.png)
2 hours ago
2
You would have thought that one embarrassment would have been enough for Kemi Badenoch this week. That she would have had time to reflect on her performance during Tuesday’s Gaza statement and decided that being the only person in Britain who is actually against a ceasefire between Israel and Gaza was not a great stance.
But self-awareness just isn’t Kemi’s strong point. She has never come across a hole she didn’t want to dig deeper. She’s just not that bright. Throughout her life, people have told her she can achieve anything if she tried hard enough and she’s made the fatal mistake of believing them.
Of course, Kemi might argue that she has proved the doubters wrong. She has become leader of the Tory party, after all. Though that’s not the job it used to be. A small party becoming ever smaller. Where no sensible person really wants to be leader anyway. But credit where credit’s due – Kemi is the living embodiment of the Dunning-Kruger effect.
She had come to Wednesday’s prime minister’s questions pumped up to continue her interrogation over the collapse of the China spying case. Just as everyone had expected. Not least, Keir Starmer, who opened the session with a lengthy statement.
The Tory accusations were baseless. It was just a desperate attempt to make trouble. The facts of the case were as described earlier – it had been the Tories’ failure, while in government, to describe the Chinese as a threat that had led to the charges being dropped. But in the interests of transparency, he was going to publish the three witness statements, including the key one from Matt Collins, the deputy national security adviser.
All this completely wrongfooted Kemi. She had come to the Commons expecting to put Starmer under the cosh simply by repeating the same allegations she had made during the ministerial statement on Monday.
She had made no real headway then, but had come back for another go. She is nothing if not a trier. It had worked at her party conference where standing up for an hour without falling over and announcing a tax cut she was never going to make happen was enough to make everyone think she had been sent down from heaven as leader. The latest in a long line of Tory Messiahs.
Other Tories sensed the danger that Kemi was in. Neil O’Brien, shadow minister for policy renewal – whatever that means – came rushing to her side, hoping to explain the implications of what Starmer was saying. Only Kemi wasn’t really in the mood for listening. She never is. Instead she just ploughed on with her original questions.
“The prime minister has had to be dragged here to make a statement,” she said. “And he refuses to answer questions.” All great, except none of it was true. Starmer had voluntarily chosen to make a statement and had said he would be happy to answer any questions. From there, it was pretty much all downhill for Kemi. She would have been better off saying she would return to the case once she had time to consider the new evidence. Put the prime minister on notice that this was not yet over. Then change tack for the rest of PMQs. Tax rises, for example.
But Kemi is Kemi. She can’t change. Can’t think on her feet. Or when sitting down, for that matter. So for the next 10 minutes she just had to suck it up while she had her arse handed to her on a plate by Starmer. While Keir appeared confident that the evidence would back up his assertions that no pressure had been put on the Crown Prosecution Service to drop the case, Kemi was all shouty conspiracy theory allegations.
“You’re a lawyer, not a leader,” said Kemi at one point. Failing to appreciate that this was one occasion where it was quite useful to have some legal expertise. Keir merely pointed out that she was neither a lawyer nor a leader. Case proved.
None of which is to say that Starmer provided all the answers. The case is incredibly complex and the evidence confusing. Apparently it’s fine for us to spy on the US – it’s a patriotic duty – but not for the Chinese to spy on us. Spying on friends isn’t really spying. Just back up. Helping them out.
Nor was it clear why anyone might think that a Tory MP, Alicia Kearns, was worth spying on. She’s never done anything of any interest to a would-be spy. Copying out her diary would hardly be intelligence. Above all, no one has properly explained why the Crown Prosecution Service dropped the charges. No one – apart from Kemi – is ruling out incompetence.
As it was, Kemi was out-thought and outgunned. Starmer was able to point to quotes from both James Cleverly, the then foreign secretary, and Kemi herself in which they had described being careful not to call China a threat. Time and again, he hammered home his central point that it had been the Tories’ failures that had led to the collapse of the trial. He looked and sounded like a man who thought he had nothing to hide.
Tory Tom Tugendhat, who probably knows rather more about the legal complexities of the case, asked Starmer outright whether the government had put any pressure on the CPS. “No,” he said. What’s more, when he had been director of public prosecutions, no government had ever leant on him. It was an article of faith. If it turns out Starmer has been economical with the truth after this, then he will be in a lot of bother. But no one is holding their breath.
A lively session ended with Cleverly making a point of order. When he had said China was not a threat, what he had really meant was that China was a huge threat. Would that do? It wouldn’t. Poor old Dimly. Sometimes he says it best when he says nothing at all.
