Lloyd Evans

How long before Rishi fatigue sets in?

How long before Rishi fatigue sets in?
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The Prime Minister has an Asian background. You wouldn’t know that if you listened to the Tories at PMQs because none of them thought it a big deal – not even Rishi himself. But Sir Keir Starmer instantly used the issue to scold the rest of mankind. 

‘Britain is a place where people of all races and beliefs can fulfil their dreams,’ he said, sounding bitter and angry. ‘And that’s not true in many countries,’ he added. A strangely aggressive type of jingoism. His attitude was replicated by a second Labour MP and by two SNP members. It’s a curious habit of some of those on the left: they focus on race to an unhealthy degree.

Sir Keir started a row about Suella Braverman’s reappointment as Home Secretary after resigning last week for leaking classified data. He called it ‘a grubby deal done because he was scared to lose another leadership election.’ Typical Tories, he carped. ‘Party first, country second.’

Rishi, who has a razor-sharp intellect, sent the missile boomeranging back. ‘Party first, country second,’ he echoed, citing Sir Keir’s support for the last Labour manifesto which might have threatened national security. Sir Keir berated Rishi for secretly boasting about funnelling money away from cities and into wealthy parts of the countryside. He got flattened again. Rishi: 

‘I know that he rarely leaves north London but if he does he will know that there are deprived areas in our rural and coastal communities.’

The SNP's Ian Blackford repeated Sir Keir’s attack over Suella Braverman. ‘A sleazy back-room deal,’ he said, stomping his feet huffily. ‘A return to sleaze and scandal.’

Rishi changed the subject and said he’d chatted by phone to Nicola Sturgeon and he looked forward to working alongside her. It all sounded rather cosy and civilised. Angry Blackford won’t like that.

Alyn Smith of the SNP announced that the people of Scotland are ready to embrace a political non-sequitur: ‘independence in Europe.’ He might as well talk about combustible snowmen or flying submarines or tadpoles that eat giraffes. A few mild titters floated at him across the aisle. ‘I will not be shouted down!’ he cried defiantly at his opponents who were busy tapping their screens and Googling ‘Alyn Smith.’

Up stood class-warrior Richard Burgon. This morning, the Labour MP's Casio desktop calculator nearly burst into flames as he punched in the net worth of Mrs Sunak and divided the sum by a nurse’s annual salary. The answer outraged him. He informed the house that a poor health-worker will have to toil and slave for 20,000 years before amassing as much money as Rishi’s missus. ‘The super-rich could easily pay more tax,’ he said.

Rishi avoided the obvious answer: individuals spend money more wisely than officials. Instead he trilled his favourite nursery rhyme about ‘difficult decisions’ being handled ‘in a way that is fair and compassionate.’

Rishi is brainy. And he’s a show-off. He loves being at the centre of attention. It makes him all shiny and excited. He handles the session like a chief executive in a hurry. If an issue is raised twice he brushes it aside. Dealt with already. Move on. 

Rishi’s a keen historian of Old Labour’s past and he twice invoked Jeremy Corbyn’s plan to bin Nato and used it to accuse Labour MPs of campaigning irresponsibly. He’s easy to watch. Enjoyable even. There’s something appealing about his lean, athletic figure. He seems to have been built for efficiency and speed like one of those soccer magicians who can streak past six defenders and slot in the winner. Even neutrals find it fun to see him coast to victory.

How long before Rishi fatigue sets in? A week maybe.

Written byLloyd Evans

Lloyd Evans is The Spectator's sketch-writer and theatre critic

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