Close the door as you leave, Theresa
Her party won’t let her go as the alternatives are so dire
IN 10 days time we’ll be celebrating a truly historic achievement.
Theresa May’s survival for a whole year as British Prime Minister. I’m hoping she marks it by announcing an extra bank holiday for all firefighters, police officers and NHS staff.
Then changes her mind after boos from her livid back-benchers and decides instead to give it to investment bankers, Royals, FTSE 100 CEOs, private landlords and Jeremy Hunt. Just to prove how in touch her premiership has been with the common mood, and how she never flip-flops.
It’s hard to recall any national leader, including Sam Allardyce, being so humiliated over such a brief period of time as May.
When she was elected by default after all the major Conservatives had scarpered to the City or knifed each other in the face, she decreed herself a One Nation Tory. A year on, she’s struggling to find one nation that takes her seriously. Or even one house.
She spent the first few months saying nothing but “Brexit means Brexit”, which made us think she was keeping her powder dry and playing a long game. But we soon realised she bricked herself whenever she was asked a hard question hence the need for expensive brown leather trousers as camouflage.
After telling Donald Trump he was “divisive and wrong”, she legged it to the White House to hold his hand and invite him to see the Queen. Then had to tell him he’s less welcome on our shores than a fresh strain of ebola.
Instead she invited John-Claude Juncker round for dinner, who said her conversation was so boring and delusional he ended up talking to his soup and wishing he’d been served Alphabetti Spaghetti so he could spell out “SOS – MAY DAY.”
She called a needless general election to get a mandate to govern, then chose not to meet anyone outside of selected in-bred Tories to explain why she should govern.
She became the first party leader to reverse a manifesto pledge before polling day. The first to try the novel approach of alienating pensioners by telling them you hoped they all froze, mothers by telling them you hoped their kids starved at school lunchtimes, and public sector workers by telling them no matter how much blood and sweat they spilt they couldn’t touch her magic money tree.
And the first to have had her key slogans “We need a strong and stable government” as opposed to a “Coalition of chaos” thrown back in her face, amid wild guffaws, the day after she failed to win a majority.
She’s the vicar’s daughter who hasn’t got a prayer of surviving. But like the Monty Python knight stumbling around with one limb left, her party won’t let her go because the alternatives are even more dire. As evidenced by the rumour that dozens of Tory MPs believe Andrea Leadsom should be the next leader. A 1950s Fanny Cradock tribute act, who believes so long as journalists do the patriotic thing and stop asking questions, Britain can get its empire back. That’s how bad Theresa May is.
Should we feel sorry for her? Yes, if she now admits the worst thing she’s ever done was give a billion pound bribe to 10 MPs whose views haven’t left the 16th century to help her vote down a pay rise for our most vital, courageous and under-valued workers, just so she could cling to power.
No, if she adopts the full Maybot stare and says “well, I think I’ve already fully covered that question with the farmer’s wheat field answer”.
No it is, then.