May and Corbyn were like two vegetarians squabbling over the last sausage
MarGaret thatcher, if tV cameras were nearby, would occasionally seize a shopping basket and dart into a supermarket in search of provender. We were encouraged to see the then prime minister as a shopper-gatherer, a Cerberus of the household accounts, poring over price tags to make sure that she bought the best-value tin of grapefruit segments.
and all poor Denis wanted was some cheese balls to accompany his evening snifter.
Modern Westminster women being less keen on grocery-shopping, theresa May has generally resisted this impulse and seldom plays the domestic tartar. But at PMQs yesterday she used the idea of her weekly shopping jaunt to goodish effect.
She and Jeremy Corbyn were arguing about – guess what? – Brexit. to see these two disagree over our eU departure is an odd thing, since neither of them really seems to want it. two vegetarians squabbling over the last sausage on the plate.
Mrs May noted that Labour’s big policy on Brexit at present is to keep mentioning its ‘six tests’ for a good deal. ‘Six bullet points!’ she snorted. ‘My weekend shopping list is larger than that.’
this ignited great fnarrs in the house. Many MPs seemed amused by the idea of Mrs May having a weekly shopping expedition. Does she keep kicking the cans down the aisles? Can she ever decide which loo roll to buy?
Mr Corbyn had a wisecrack of his own. Mrs May described her withdrawal agreement as ‘the best possible deal – the only deal’. With an uncharacteristic leap of logic, Mr Corbyn concluded: ‘It’s not hard to be the best deal if it is the only deal. By definition, it is also the worst deal.’ this line may have been prepared for Mr Corbyn by his sous-chef Seumas Milne, a Wykehamist. Mr Milne, sitting upstairs, permitted himself a ghostly smile.
I once did a diploma course (in archaeology) on which I was the only student. I thus came top of the class. and bottom. But not in the middle. Bad place to be, the centre.
Philip hammond, Chancellor, was not in his usual place alongside Mrs May. Perhaps he was busy. Or perhaps he was keen not to have to answer an urgent question on Government Brexit forecasts which was scheduled to follow PMQs. that task was entrusted to another treasury minister, Mel Stride, who is regarded as more reliably pro-May than treasury Chief Secretary Liz truss (also absent). Mr Corbyn made some light hay of Mr hammond not being there.
Mrs May’s efforts to win her backbenchers’ support for her Brexit deal bore little evident fruit. Douglas ross, a new chap from Moray, was worried about fishing rights. anne-Marie trevelyan (Con, Berwick-on-tweed) said we’d be better off spending the £39billion divorce payment on ‘a clean, global Brexit’.
SIr David amess (Con, Southend W), a Brexiteer but no troublemaker, was unexpectedly withering, saying her deal was the work of ‘largely unelected people and has a distinct remain flavour’.
Mrs May somehow kept her temper. her equanimity is, in itself, striking. ‘he might not be surprised if I do not quite share that analysis,’ she murmured. Sir Desmond Swayne (Con, New forest W) may be a vigorous Brexiteer but he is also a Christian and he took pity, so asked her about religious intolerance in the holy Land and a coming visit by the Patriach of Jerusalem.
If Mrs May spoke with rare feeling about persecution, that was perhaps not surprising.
On the front bench alongside her? Quite a few 2nd XI figures. In addition to the absent hammond and truss – and health Secretary hancock who was standing at the far end with pink shoe laces – there was no Gove, Williamson, Gauke, fox or Grayling. foreign Secretary hunt and International aid Secretary Mordaunt looked far from zesty.
I left them to it and headed for Windsor to see Basil Brush in panto. Perhaps we need Basil in the Cabinet.