May finds her voice amid tragedy of Westminster
IT MIGHT look accomplished but for a politician to strike the proper tone in a crisis is a hard balance.
The speech-writers are to hand, with their phrasing and parsing, but ultimately it is what we disdainfully refer to as the “human delivery mechanism”, the master's voice, at the sharp end.
So, in the space between the speech notes and the dispatch box, leaders look into themselves. It is when we need to find our own strength that we discover how affected we all are by our parents.
Gordon Brown's speeches echoed the pulpit style of his preacher father, the soaring Presbyterian rhetoric that few Scots are familiar with now, yet many find mesmerising.
Yesterday, Theresa May found the firm, comforting voice of the Reverend Hubert Brazier, whom she must have seen sympathising with bereaved parishioners in the Cotswolds when she was knee-high.
Consciously or not, the vicar's daughter deployed the cadences of the Book of Common Prayer, the short sentences, the plain passages and the resolute faith in what she stood for.
That is how her statement on the Westminster attack came across, and came across all the better for it.
The opening professed the values that ensured Parliament convened yesterday in defiance of a terror attack.
The tributes and condolences to the family of the fallen policeman, Keith Palmer, followed.
The middle section was informative, providing much needed news on the latest details on the injured and the attacker.
The peroration – you will not defeat us, we will prevail – was as strong as the opening declaration: “We are not afraid.”
Grief and crisis never fail to make the Commons perform at its best.
Jeremy Corbyn, in his tributes, looked up at the French foreign minister, present in the gallery above, as he
mentioned the schoolchildren from Brittany caught up in the carnage and talked of common humanity and love.
It shouldn't be forgotten that the horror on Westminster Bridge was more harrowing than anything on the parliamentary estate. People there were far more vulnerable than those inside the citadel protected by armed police.
The SNP's Angus Robertson, more soft-spoken than he has had cause to be of late, paid tribute to “the right honourable and gallant member for Bournemouth East, Tobias Ellwood”, who had helped the downed officer.
Ellwood stood at the bar of the house, visibly moved by the tributes.
James Cleverly MP, who served with PC Palmer in the Royal Artillery, broke down in an emotional tribute to a comrade. It was hard going.
Iain Duncan Smith framed democratic defiance in the historic arch entrance to the chamber, rebuilt from bomb-scarred stone as a monument to the attacks of World War II.
There is history in every corner of Westminster. The heraldic shields of MPs lost in two wars adorn either end of the Commons chamber. There is one for Airey Neave above the door and space for the late Jo Cox too.
Labour's Chris Bryant added to the symbolism, calling for Keith Palmer to be similarly honoured. Bryant said: “He was our shield”.