Labour could hardly have written KemiKaze a better script – and she blew it

It’s becoming existential. First the Tory MPs began to wonder if there was any point to them being in Westminster. Sure, the title impresses some people and gets them one or two freebies, but those minor thrills soon start to pall as reality kicks in. Just drifting in the liminal spaces. Out of power. Out of control. And next to nothing to look forward to. They are less popular than Reform and in any case the next election is at least four years away. Days, weeks, months and years of nothingness lie ahead.

Now Conservatives are starting to have the same thoughts about Kemi Badenoch. At first they believed she was an exciting breath of fresh air. Someone ready to get stuck into any culture war.

But within a few months the excitement has worn off. KemiKaze is just the latest in a long line of disappointments. She’s not the Messiah. Just a hollow woman whom they can barely manage to look in the eye. Their cheers for her are just a muted, half-arsed Pavlovian response. We’re here because we’re here because we’re here.

The guilt works both ways. Because deep down Badenoch is also a disappointment to herself. She should never have allowed herself to be seduced into believing she could make a difference. If it’s any consolation, it’s a misjudgment all wannabe party leaders invariably make. Overweening ego and ambition before hubris. Now she has to find a way of living with herself. Of managing her party’s expectations. And her own.

Put bluntly, KemiKaze needs to do something and quick. Each week of underperformance only adds to hers and the party’s unease. But we’re in to a vicious circle. Because she’s bright enough to realise that nothing she can say or do will make a difference. Partly because she’s just not that good at this stuff. Partly because almost certainly no one could.

Too proud to even make an effort. She could sit down for hours in preparation for her one televised match-up of the week, but she can’t even be bothered to do that. Instead she channels her inner Beckett. Try Again. Fail Again. Fail Better. She knows she’s unlikely to last to the next election.

If there was one PMQs when KemiKaze was going to rise from the ashes – to take one last power drive – then surely it was to be this Wednesday. Business confidence low, interest rates at record highs and Labour’s self-inflicted wound of its anti-corruption minister being forced to resign. Hell, which of us hasn’t been handed somewhere to live with no questions asked?

Things don’t get much sweeter for an opposition leader. Kemi could hardly have written a better script for herself. Only she blew it. Right from the start her heart wasn’t in it. But who could blame her. Just look at the state of her shadow cabinet. The idiot’s idiot Chris Philp in his union jack socks. Mel Stride, the man who will never be chancellor. Priti Patel. A joke. These were not serious politicians.

Last week KemiKaze had used all six questions on child grooming gangs. That hadn’t worked out so well. So this time she went scatter-gun. Something must land. Surely. She began with an attack on the government’s handling of the economy. It didn’t help that she had to qualify her question with the caveat that she knew the Tories had wrecked the economy and that global pressures had hit all countries. But apart from that …

Predictably Keir Starmer batted this away. Tough decisions. £22bn black hole. He’s come to enjoy his outings at PMQs. Most prime ministers dread them, but he’ll make an exception when up against Badenoch. It was like she just wanted to get the whole thing over and done with as soon as possible. She knows that she hasn’t got a record to defend. Has yet to earn the right to be given a fair hearing.

Having gone through the motions on the economy, Kemi shuffled her notes and settled on the Chagos Islands. Why had the government sewn up such a crap deal with Mauritius? Shame she hadn’t thought this one through.

First, that it had been the Tories who had started the negotiations. Second, she had forgotten to listen to the bit where Labour was saying it was delaying the deal until the new Trump administration could sign it off. By the end of these exchanges she was so confused she was saying she would hang on to Chagos at all costs. Which will have come as news to many of her MPs.

Realising she was getting nowhere with this, KemiKaze moved on to Tulip Siddiq. This, too, backfired. There was a point to be made in questioning Starmer’s judgment, but it got totally lost under the Tories’ own record on sleaze. It must have been hard for Starmer to keep a straight face as he stared at Priti Patel. Two breaches of the ministerial code: freelancing in Israel and bullying.

“Just to be serious for a moment,” said Starmer. Here was a window to his soul. Everything up until now had been lighthearted pleasantries. A break from the realities of government. He took time to talk Kemi through the failures of Tory legislation in Northern Ireland. He would do all he could to avoid paying compensation to Gerry Adams. But if he did, it would be the Tories who were primarily responsible.

Keir ended with a gratuitous dig at Liz Truss. Because he could. However much the Conservatives now want to disown her, she’s unquestionably one of their own. That’s their cross to bear. She may have lasted only 49 days, but her memory lingers.

The rest of PMQs faded to nothingness. Barely even inconsequential. Labour MPs saying “isn’t Glasgow marvellous” and that kind of thing. The Tory benches looked as if they were suffering from PTSD. Insanity being repeating the same mistake and expecting a different result. They had hoped this time – maybe this time – all would be different. Instead it had been business as usual. Come the end they were so confused that the Tory spokesperson committed Kemi to never having a single reshuffle throughout the parliament. What could possibly go wrong?