The Eeyores of British politics insist dolefully that the institution of Parliament is in steady decline. Gone are the Speaker’s wigs and noteless speeches. Even the political coups seem to have lost their heft and gravitas. Once grandly named after stately homes, or excitingly combustive materials, the latest backbench putsch against the Prime Minister was dubbed the “Pork Pie plot” (in homage both to Rutland and Melton, the constituency of alleged plotter Alicia Kearns, and Melton Mowbray – home of the iconic meat and hot water crust pastry combo.)
As for the plotting itself, well, that appears correspondingly hapless too. William Wragg, Vice Chair of the 1922 Committee, accused No10 of threatening backbenchers who’d considered calling for a vote of no confidence in the Prime Minister.
“The reports of which I’m aware would seem to constitute blackmail”, he quavered, aghast – curiously so, given that Government whips are, well, whips – not lollipop ladies. It felt like the Pope expressing surprise at the news that the adoring crowds massed in St Peter’s Square were actually of the same religious persuasion as himself; or perhaps Brutus lamenting that he’d been warned to stop stabbing; on pain of being knifed himself.
“It looks like checkmate”, Brexit Hardman Steve Baker told Nick Robinson on the BBC, but in truth as the PM-putsch entered its second day, things seemed more like a raucous Hungry Hungry Hippos session than a game of chess.
In the Commons, Brutus seemed to be preparing for his close-up – MPs continued their furious WhatsApping, fingers darting at lightning pace. But what of Wednesday’s knife-wielder-in-chief David Davis? He was on a roll, speaking stirringly of “questionable ethics” and “intimidating bullying”.
No, not the Whips’ office this time, but kleptocrats and autocrats using London’s world-class legal firms to shut down media criticism – with a chilling effect on free speech.
Davis, along with Labour’s Liam Byrne, was moving a backbench motion on “Lawfare and the UK Court System”. True, few backbenchers had actually turned up, but those who had sounded reassuringly on top of their brief. “It’s saddening to hear the extent to which London has become perhaps the money laundering capital of the world”, sighed Sir Roger Gale.
Here was something far rarer than backstabbing in Parliament – a group of knowledgeable MPs coming together to discuss an important issue. There were some shocking disclosures, including the allegation that the telecoms tycoon and Tory donor Mohamed Amersi had used his wealth and influence to intimidate the former MP Charlotte Leslie after she’d rebuffed his efforts to become Chair of the Conservative Middle East Forum.
They seek to murder the truth,” cried Byrne, “and we are letting them do it.”
“Why are powerful interests from far away suing journalists, who are not English and do not write in English titles, in English courts?” he concluded.
It was a fair question. Perhaps Parliament hasn’t lost its mojo just yet.
