Blokeish James Cleverly ‘like Baldrick … without the cunning plan’

James Cleverly speaking in the House of Commons following the Rwanda judgment
James Cleverly speaking in the House of Commons following the Rwanda judgment - Maria Unger/UK Parliament

It was the PMQs after Rishi Sunak’s worst-ever day in No 10 – or at least, the worst since the day before – and the opposition were cock-a-hoop.

“I hardly need to remind the Prime Minister,” began Sir Keir Starmer, in the tone of someone who was about to enjoy asking to see the manager, “of the threat posed by the Chinese Communist Party.” Rather than majoring on the Supreme Court, he went in on the PM’s choice of Foreign Secretary.

But the best “Call Me Dave” action came not from Starmer, but Kevin Brennan, who asked the PM to name David Cameron’s finest foreign policy achievement.

Mr Sunak very convincingly began his reply by saying there were “many, many to pick from”. You could see the panic in his eyes as his brain ran through the options – Libya, Syria, Brussels renegotiations.

In the end, the needle finally alighted on “he hosted a G8 summit” – widely considered, Mr Sunak assured us, to be one of the most successful of recent times.

Given the standard of the other ones of late – and recent events in foreign policy – it’s a bit like saying the former prime minister oversaw the least damaging house fire.

As Mr Sunak described how the Conservative Party had “restored the country’s financial security”, Emily Thornberry, two seats down from Sir Keir, looked at him and slowly shook her head as if the Prime Minister had done something unspeakable in public.

Next came a battle of chalk and cheese as new Home Secretary, James Cleverly, delivered a statement on the Rwanda judgment.

Despite Wednesday’s setback, insisted Cleverly, Britain was still out-performing the rest of Europe in reducing small boat arrivals. One of the few areas where we still outperform Italy.

Cleverly’s demeanour could only be described as blokeish – shades of the rugby club or stag do. It seemed only a matter of time before he let off a fire extinguisher.

He referred to himself and immigration minister Robert Jenrick as a “tag-team”, saluted Lindsay Hoyle, and at one point directed a roguish wink in the direction of Chris Bryant.

In this respect, he sticks out – “normies” in Parliament are a rare breed. Alas, these laddish charms were lost on his opposite number.

Across the floor, Yvette Cooper was puffing like a grampus as she awaited her turn to speak.

“Government by gimmick,” she shrilled, between furious head jerks and jabbing hand movements.

Cooper has perfected an officious tone that conjures up a metaphorical clipboard and high-vis jacket; imagine a health and safety officer-turned-union rep at a provincial hospital.

Nearing crescendo, Cooper dropped a swear-word – such a regular occurrence nowadays that your average Hansard entry must resemble a copy of Trainspotting.

“I don’t believe the new Home Secretary ever believed in the Rwanda plan,” she barked. “He may even, on occasion, have called it bats—.”

Tirade duly delivered, Cooper sat down and scrolled indignantly through Twitter.

The backbenchers seemed marginally less enraged than the shadow home secretary.

Stella Creasy went into kumbaya mode, asking the Home Secretary to “pay tribute to all those in public life who’d arrived at the country as refugees”. There was a toadyish intervention from Sir Bob Neill, who congratulated Cleverly on the “tone and manner of his statement”.

Sammy Wilson of the DUP, however, remained unpersuaded. Never one to mince his words, he described the Home Secretary and the Government as “Baldrick … without the cunning plan”.

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