This must never be allowed to happen again. How often have we heard that from a politician in parliament? I’ve almost lost count. In the recent past, we’ve had Hillsborough, the Post Office Horizon scandal and infected blood. And of course the Grenfell Tower fire. It seems that no matter how serious the inquiry, how deep the shame and the guilt, the tragedies just keep on coming. But you can’t do nothing. You’ve got to hope. Hope that maybe this time something will change. That the fine words will be backed up by finer deeds. Not just to ensure the guilty, the negligent and the complicit are held accountable. But so the machinery of the state doesn’t roll back to its default settings. One where the powerful look after themselves and the less advantaged are hung out to die. So Keir Starmer was rightly in sombre mood as he made his statement to the Commons after the publication of Sir Martin Moore-Bick’s report on the Grenfell fire. It was the least that the 72 victims and their families deserved. It also helped that no one in the chamber could conceivably be held to blame other than by their position and office in parliament. Remorse is always so much easier when you’re not directly responsible.
These caveats aside, the Commons did itself proud. No one tried to get party political. What needed to be said got said. As befits a lawyer, the prime minister was thorough and forensic. He admitted that it had taken too long for the truth to be revealed. He spoke of industry failures. Companies that had falsified safety reports. Governments that had been only too willing to cut corners as part of their austerity agenda. The bonfire of red tape had never blazed brighter than in June 2017. Just as importantly, Starmer highlighted the two-tier justice. That the Grenfell residents had been ignored because they were working class or immigrants. Their concerns about fire safety brushed aside because they simply didn’t matter enough. What counted was that the cladding was cheap and cheerful. The main concern the local council had was that Grenfell should not be an eyesore to those in the posh houses nearby. Rishi Sunak was equally measured in his reply. Running through all the same themes. He too offered an apology. As a custodian of the state. Not as a person. That would be pushing it. Whether he will remain long enough in parliament to translate words into action is another matter. No one mentioned Eric Pickles, the former housing minister who was heavily criticised in the report. He was one of them, after all. No Tory MP expressed remorse for austerity. That really would be a step too far.
For now it is the thought that counts. I guess that will have to be enough for the Grenfell residents. They’ve just got to hope that it doesn’t take too long for the memories to sink back below the surface. MPs have notoriously short attention spans. Not to say, highly selective. But hey! Fingers crossed. This time really could be the one where something changes. Not quite everything has changed at prime minister’s questions. Five times during an answer to Rishi Sunak asking about the suspension of arms licences to Israel, Starmer referred to the leader of the opposition as prime minister. I guess old habits die hard. Or maybe part of Keir can’t quite believe he’s in Downing Street. Still has to pinch himself every morning to make sure it’s true. Or maybe he was just feeling a bit of pressure. Shifting the responsibility to the lawyers for the suspension is missing the point. You can get a lawyer to say almost anything if you look hard enough. Ultimately the decision was Starmer’s. That aside it was a relatively quiet, trouble-free half-hour for Starmer. There again, Sunak is rapidly turning into the disappearing man. He’s there in body but not in spirit. His heart is not in it. He, more than anyone, can’t wait until the Tory leadership election is over. The current state of suspended animation must be torture for him. No one wants him. No one notices him. No one cares. He isn’t really aware of himself. He slid into his seat in the Commons without anyone raising a murmur. He leaves no trace of his existence. Meanwhile Starmer is clearly enjoying his honeymoon period. Not just as a result of knowing Rishi poses no threat but because he’s got an instant answer to everything. It’s a short sentence that’s written in capitals inside a folder that contains nothing else: “£22bn BLACK HOLE”. Sunak tried asking about Labour’s cut to the winter fuel allowance but Starmer came straight back at him. This one was on the Tories. They were the ones that trashed the economy. They were the ones that forced Labour into doing something it had wanted to avoid. For a moment we saw a sign of the old Rish!. The incompetent leader who can’t think on his feet, that is. Because his first reaction was to suggest that the Tories had left the economy in excellent health. That everyone had never had it so good. The poor man has yet to realise that voters roundly rejected this idea at the July election. They had come to the conclusion that they had never had it so crap. Maybe Sunak is still in shock. Still, it gave Starmer the opportunity to get in a dig at the Tory members’ favourite to replace Sunak. Not so long ago, Kemi Badenoch suggested cutting the winter fuel allowance too. Now she’s in opposition, she’s not so keen. Then maybe Sunak was playing the long game. A chance to get his own back on Kemi for all her disloyalty. She learned from the master. Take a bow Michael Gove. Gone but not forgotten. Not quite yet, anyway. And that was pretty much it. Time and again, Starmer just said, “£22bn” and sat down again. Regardless of whether the questions were friendly ones from his own side, or more querulous ones from the Tories, Lib Dems or the SNP. It may be boring. It may be repetitive. But it has the virtue of being more or less true. And no one has yet thought of an effective comeback. Over on the committee corridor, the Tory leadership contest took its first baby steps to a conclusion. Not that anyone really cares. These moments used to be well attended affairs. Full of men and women in suits puffed up with self-importance and intent. Now almost no one came to hear that Priti Patel was the first to be out of the race. The Tories had clearly decided to get rid of the dimmest first. On the next plane to Rwanda. The change will do her good.