A sense of schadenfreude as ‘no deal’ Leavers face consequence of their actions
ONE wonders if schadenfreude is appropriate at this moment? Bring on a no deal, even by default, and the advocates of Leave will face the political consequences of their decisions and votes.
Indeed, a great deal of personal hardship will follow, but this is what the archaic and now atrophying UK political and constitutional system has now led to, no deal and no direction.
All the flummery, pomp, faux mystique and uncritical reverence has masked the creaky systems of government in the first-past-the-post system.
Add to that the plethora of arcane precedents, conventions and Erskine May’s “guidelines”, and add the current “Mayist” antics of repeat tabling of rejected motions, then the system is now dysfunctional on a grand scale
Blend in the personal incompetence of key ministers from PM downwards and chaos ensues.
So what will bring the upholders of this auld creaking Union to their senses? North of the Tweed the rejection of it has already begun, but south of the Tweed the reverence for the fundamental system has yet to be seriously challenged. No deal might just kick the complacency out of their introverted mindset, having been fed a diet of jingoistic Rule Britannia for the last 200 years.
Langmuir Quadrant, Kilmaurs
Mhari Black’s Rab C Nesbittstyle Brexit speech in the third Commons debate (14 March) was a delight.
Notes held like a cosh and an “I’ll tell you this, my boy!” rancour, she razored through three years of the chamber’s procrastination with the righteous unbridled wrath of an old school football manager “hairdrying” a team of slackers.
No wonder she’s Jacob Reesmogg’s favourite political enemy: her bellicose brass tacks bombshell gave the Commons a taste of the street politics it’s long been overdue. If Westminster was constipated, Black’s is the Syrup of Figs.
What a pity her boss, Ian Blackford, couldn’pay attention whilst she did so. Bad enough Black was heckled by the usual dinosaurs. Worse the rest of the SNP snoozefest hadn’t the courtesy to shut up and learn from a masterclass in public speech missing from the Scottish contingent since the days Winnie Ewing stalked Westminster’s corridors.
Linn Park Gardens, Johnstone,
Renfrewshire