Left, right and centre - party political sketch

Today has been one of those days when, after a period of relative calm in UK politics during the Parliamentary Summer Recess, all the pieces are thrown up in the air.

On Monday, Sir Keir Starmer was launching 'Phase 2' of his government after a difficult first year. Today, with the resignation of his Deputy Prime Minister, Deputy Leader of the Labour Party and Housing Secretary (a three-in-one trinity in the person of Angela Rayner) he has had a full-scale Cabinet reshuffle - of which more anon.

Today also saw the opening of Reform UK's party conference in Birmingham, with a bullish Nigel Farage sounding faintly miffed that Angela Rayner's shock (some people are easily shocked) resignation was somehow timed to steal his thunder. With Farage it's always all about him. He's predicting a 2027 general election - in other words two years early - and calling on his members to gird up their loins. (Perhaps I should rephrase that? Actually, I can't be arsed.)

He may well be right, though - a stopped clock and all that - but, while he gleefully predicts the demise of both the Labour and Conservative parties, he has seemingly failed to factor in the upset that will inevitably be caused by Jeremy Corbyn and Zarah Sultana's new left-wing party. Currently awaiting its launch with the working title, Our Party, some 800,000 people (it could be a million by now for all I know) have expressed an interest - myself included - and eagerly anticipate the arrival of a new(ish) socialist kid on the British political block.

With Labour seemingly in meltdown and the Tories frankly irrelevant - Nadine Dorries is the latest rat to leave the sinking ship for Reform, need I say more? - the rise of two new parties, about as polar opposite as they could possibly be, could be the biggest shake-up in British politics since the Labour Party joined the fray in Westminster a century ago.

And then there's the Green Party under its newly-elected leader, Zack Polenski. Young (well, 42), Jewish, gay, vegan, teetotaller, hypnotherapist, former member of the Liberal Democrat party and now a Green Assembly Member on the London Assembly, he was recently confirmed as party leader with 84.6% of his membership's vote - a pretty convincing win by any standards. His relationship with the Corbyn/Sultana grouping in parliament, when it finally emerges as a party, will be one to watch given his leftish leanings.

Back (as promised) to Starmer's Cabinet reshuffle. It seems to have been a game of musical chairs with only one mayor player (Rayner) out. David Lammy is DPM and Justice Secretary, while Yvette Cooper moves from the Home to Foreign Office, with Shabana Mahmood taking over her old role. This could be an interesting one: Mahmood is hawkish on migration issues so we can expect tough rhetoric (if not action) from her on stopping the boats and asylum hotels.

But where will she stand - as a practising Muslim who has spoken about the centrality of her faith in her life - on Cooper's proscription of Palestine Action as a terrorist organisation? As previous Justice Secretary, her role in early release of prisoners was seen as a pretext for clearing prison space for the hundreds of recently-arrested Pro-Palestine Action protesters. Her voting record suggests she'll duck the issue of proscription and continue to spin Cooper's line of secret intelligence as long as possible.

One thing is already clear: it's going to be a rollercoaster of an autumn.

Popular posts from this blog

A knight's tale - creative non-fiction

England - 1088 'What's a king without a kingdom?' 'A man, sire. And a man fights for what's his.' The king had been thinking aloud and the thirteen year-old lad's unexpected reply to his rhetorical question caught him off-guard. It was a bold response but, rather than being angered, he felt chastened by it. It was profound coming from one so young and junior in his service though prompted, he knew, by genuine love and loyalty rather than impertinence.  At a moment of grave peril so early in his new reign he valued candour, a commodity in short supply at court. He had followed his father, the Conqueror, as King William II less than a year earlier and now faced widespread rebellion. At such a time he could ill afford self-pity, much less self-doubt. He blamed himself for allowing a brief moment of self-indulgence in front of his page.  Since receiving the devastating news at Eastertide of his brother Robert's challenge the lad had been his closest companio...
Read more

2024 - a year to forget?*

As we approach the end of another rollercoaster year of 'natural' and manmade disasters, I'm taking a moment to look back - and forward. Janus, the two-faced Roman god, gave his name to the month of January, a time for both reflection and anticipation. But as I find myself unexpectedly housebound with a bout of 'flu - or it could be Covid but who has a lateral flow test kit lying around these days? - I'm self-isolating for the remainder of December. Fortuitously, this gives me some time to ponder the existential ' quo vadis ?' questions now rather than waiting until the New Year. I can always have another bite of the glacé cherry then, of course, so these are just some preliminary musings, though with so much hanging in the balance - Syria, Gaza, Ukraine, a second Trump presidency - my observations at this stage can't really be anything more than prefatory. Let's start with the unfolding situation in Syria, the outcome of which could prove to be piv...
Read more

Withering hates

News of a new film adaptation of Wuthering Heights directed by Emerald Fennell (of Saltburn fame) led me to re-read Emily Brontë's classic novel. It brought back many memories. I was raised close to 'Brontë Country' in the 1960s when that area of the West Riding of Yorkshire (as it still was then) remained very much as the Brontës would have known it: remote, bleak, inaccessible and inhospitable. Today, while the moors, apart from a few jarring wind turbines, remain as ruggedly magnificent as ever, the gaunt 17th and 18th century millstone grit farmhouses have been transformed. Fifty years ago, their cold, stone-flagged floors, rattling sash windows and smoking chimneys made comfort hard to find. Only the main living room, t' house in dialect (in Brontë's text as in my youth), had a constantly-burning range, while rag rugs helped keep the chill off our feet. Almost all have been modernised, if not outright suburbanised. Paved driveways, landscaped gardens, double...
Read more