HENRY DEEDES watches Theresa May serving the coldest revenge on Boris Johnson
She had waited two years to go for his jugular and was in no mood to miss: HENRY DEEDES watches Theresa May serving the coldest revenge on Boris Johnson as he fights to save himself after the Gray report
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Assassins tend to wear black and keep well hidden. Yesterday’s wore a jacket of bright blue and positioned herself just feet from her chosen target.
Theresa May was seated two rows behind Boris Johnson when she was called by Sir Lindsay Hoyle to speak. Her expression was stern, her voice calm and methodical.
She had waited two and a half years to fire her poisoned dart at her successor’s jugular vein and she was in no mood to miss.
Reflecting on Sue Gray’s report into those boozy Downing Street parties, she summoned the most patronising tone in her vocal armoury and said: ‘Either my right honourable friend had not read the rules or didn’t understand what they meant and others around him, or they didn’t think the rules applied to Number 10. Which was it?’
From Labour’s benches there came a chorus of loud cheers but there was only stunned silence from Conservatives.
Reflecting on Sue Gray’s report into those boozy Downing Street parties, Theresa May summoned the most patronising tone in her vocal armoury and said: ‘Either my right honourable friend had not read the rules or didn’t understand what they meant and others around him, or they didn’t think the rules applied to Number 10. Which was it?’
As the PM stuttered, Mrs May narrowed those dark, impenetrable eyes and twanged a bright blue face mask back around her ears. I can’t be sure but behind it may well have lurked a smile as wide as her lapels.
We were barely 20 minutes into Mr Johnson’s statement and already the session was a turning into a nightmare. Weekend whispers suggested he had weathered the worst of the squall but by the time he departed the chamber nearly two hours later, it was clear his leadership had entered dangerous waters once again.
His speech hit the wrong notes. That much was clear from his backbenchers’ faces as soon he sat down. Glum and lifeless, every one of them.
The PM had issued an apology of sorts, admitting ‘failures of leadership’ that were ‘difficult to justify’. ‘I get it and I will fix it.’ As self-flagellations go, this was a light lashing.
Then came some clumsy boasting about Brexit and the vaccine rollout. Wrong gear change. It was like a DJ pumping out party classics when the mood required something infinitely more solemn.
The cocky Sir Keir Starmer of recent weeks had been packed away, replaced by a more earnest creature. He went light on detail for once and opted instead for some straightforward character defenestration.
The PM had ‘held people’s sacrifices in contempt’, he said. He had ‘insulted the public’s intelligence’. He was a ‘man without shame’, who had ‘damaged everyone and everything around him along the way’.
That last barb felt close to the bone. Up in the press gallery, there was a round of surprised wind-sucking.
What gave Starmer’s attacks resonance was that they were heard in uninterrupted silence by Conservatives. The PM came back with a limp sally about Starmer failing to prosecute Jimmy Savile when he was director of public prosecutions. A desperate lunge from a fighter whose battered eyes were already swelling.
He got a brief respite when the SNP’s Ian Blackford chose to make the session all about himself. Having lambasted the PM for breaking the rules, he then deliberately flouted Parliamentary regulations by accusing the PM of lying.
Five times the Speaker threatened him with eviction unless he retracted. Five times Blackford refused. And so out he went, one of his whips scurrying behind like a loyal Highland terrier.
Seated next to the PM’s most recent Brutus – David Davis – was Andrew Mitchell (Con, Sutton Coldfield). Never a good sign. Thick as thieves ‘Thrasher’ and ‘Basher’ are.
Theresa May was seated two rows behind Boris Johnson when she was called by Sir Lindsay Hoyle to speak. Her expression was stern, her voice calm and methodical
Mitchell admitted he had been a ‘full-throated’ backer of the PM but now ‘he no longer enjoys my support’. The MP’s expressionless face suggested a man innately comfortable doling out public beatings.
Labour repeatedly demanded that Boris resign. This is what opposition MPs do, of course. More worrying for Boris were the barbs from his own side.
Aaron Bell (Con, Newcastle-under-Lyme) furiously recalled attending his grandmother’s funeral last year and not being able to hug his relatives. ‘Does the Prime Minister think I’m a fool?’ he asked.
Ominously, little Sir Bernard Jenkin (Con, Harwich and North Essex) reminded Labour MPs he and his colleagues needed ‘no reminder of how to dispose of a failing leader’. Gulp.
Support for the PM did arrive – not all of it necessarily welcome. We endured a lengthy, tub-thumping rant from Rob Roberts (Ind, Delyn) which prompted evident discomfiture on the Government’s front bench.
Priti Patel massaged her temples wearily. Mr Roberts was suspended from the Conservative Party last year for sexual harassment. His enthusiasm for Boris’s leadership at this time may not be considered entirely helpful.
At 5.23pm, deputy speaker Nigel Evans called time and the PM made a hurried dash for the exit.
A stormy meeting with the 1922 committee awaited. It was going to be a long evening.
