Midway through prime minister’s questions, Rishi Sunak appeared to enter an altered state. His eyes went vacant and his body inert. As if he was desperately retreating inside himself, searching for an as yet undiscovered happy place. Somewhere far away from the scene of his latest humiliation. Dominic Raab looked concerned and nudged him. A parliamentary private secretary tapped him on the shoulder. To remind him that this was the moment he was supposed to get to his feet and deliver an answer from the dispatch box. As Rish! slowly returned to consciousness, one Labour MP called out: “Bring back the lettuce.” He had a point. You might have got more sense out of the lettuce that managed to see off Liz Truss than the man who had been chosen to replace her. Labour knew it. More tellingly, many Tory backbenchers also knew it. You could see the despair on their faces.
Only a few diehard loyalists had bothered to offer a weak cheer when Sunak had entered the chamber. More the memory of acclaim than acclaim itself. But this was worse – much worse – than even the most pessimistic had feared. The whole purpose of selecting a Goldman Sachs technocrat as prime minister had been that he could aspire to a basic level of competence. Could give the appearance of knowing what he was doing. But Rish! couldn’t even aspire to that. Couldn’t manage the mere basics. There was barely a veneer of plausibility to his leadership. Like Boris Johnson and Librium Liz before him, just lurching from one self-inflicted disaster to another. It’s what happens when you race though the gene pool of talent and wind up in a puddle. He’d chosen a duff cabinet. Of course he had. Because who could possibly have guessed that Gavin Williamson would crash and burn. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d twice previously been sacked. The idiot who thought The Thick of It was a style guide. Then there was Suella Braverman. Another unnecessary accident waiting to happen. But it wasn’t just the big stuff where Rish! was failing. He couldn’t even master the basics of PMQs. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask? Apparently, it was. PMQs may not be that big a deal in the wider scheme of things, but it’s a time for the Tory faithful to feel good about themselves for half an hour a week. To feel as if they are still in the game. That they aren’t existentially redundant. Genetically superseded. Most new prime ministers get a free pass for their first PMQs. Rish! has now done three and is actually getting worse each time. The more you see of him, the less there is. The incredible vanishing man.
The independent Neil Coyle got the session under way by asking whether Sunak would ensure that none of the Tories who had picked up fixed-penalty notices during the Covid lockdowns – always a touchy subject for the not entirely law-abiding prime minister – would be rewarded in the many resignation honours lists currently doing the rounds. Who knows? Rish! might even be drawing up his own list this very afternoon. Things move quickly in the current Tory multiverse. Sunak couldn’t give that commitment. No point in creating a precedent that might come back to bite him when the time has come for him to be given a peerage. Instead he feigned outrage. No one had worked harder to protect the country during the pandemic than the Tory government. Er … let’s think that one through. That would be the Convict who seemed to have a party a week for his staff. And Matt Hancock. The health secretary who banned other people from meeting one another. Who insisted that the epidemiologist Neil Ferguson visiting his girlfriend was a matter for the police. Who was then forced to resign after it was revealed he had been having an affair with one of his co-workers. The CCTV image is scarred on all our memories for ever. The former health secretary who dumped his family in a heartbeat to shack up with his lover. And is now earning £400K for eating kangaroo anus on I’m a Celebrity. That level of care from a loving and compassionate Tory government. Keir Starmer homed in on Gav’s latest resignation. Williamson is probably already sitting by the phone expecting to be reappointed to the cabinet. How did Sunak imagine the person on the end of the “slit your throat” bullying felt when the prime minister had greeted Gav’s departure with “great sadness”? Gav was just “a cartoon bully with a pet spider” who had been enabled by a weak boss. Surely the prime minister was aware of Gav’s management style. After all, everyone else was.
“Er … Um …” squeaked Rish!, dancing nervously from foot to foot. He had definitely not heard anything about anything, he insisted. Not even sounding as if he was managing to convince himself. Williamson’s behaviour had come like a bolt from the blue. Nobody could conceivably have expected someone with Gav’s spotless record to turn out to be a bully. But the moment he had heard about the allegations, he had demanded that Gav resign. Except he hadn’t. He had pleaded with him to stay. Even going so far as to dream up various non-jobs for him to do as minister without portfolio. Rish! hurriedly tried to change the subject. Yeahbutnobutyeahbutno. At least the British people trusted the Tories to run the economy. Cue outright laughter as the Labour leader pointed out that it had been the Conservatives who had crashed the economy and that no one in their right mind would bet on them fixing it. Sunak visibly winced. Wishing he could dematerialise. All he could do was mutter “But Jeremy Corbyn”. The third week he’d done that and a sure sign he was completely out of ideas. Maybe Corbyn does live rent-free in Sunak’s head. There was to be no recovery. Rish! lurched from one mini-crisis to the next. He couldn’t say why he was keeping a Scottish secretary who was more interested in being in the Lords than in cabinet. He couldn’t say that he thought the Office for Budget Responsibility was right to highlight the damage caused by Brexit. Worst of all, he didn’t have a clue why he had promised a government of professionalism, integrity and accountability. That had never been going to happen. Almost no one on the Tory benches bothered to stay for Sunak’s statement on Cop27. Then, why should they? After all, Rish! had shown almost no interest in the climate summit during his three-minute speech on Monday. Best to escape from this very public hell. They might as well be leaderless again. No direction. No hope. Run for the hills. A year in Westminster with John Crace and Marina Hyde: Join John Crace and Marina Hyde for a look back at another chaotic year in Westminster, live at Kings Place in London, or via the livestream. Wednesday 7 December 2022, 7pm-8.15pm GMT. Book tickets here.