Lee took his place next to that rich chap who looks like a hairdresser
BACK in Cold War days, the big defections involved ballet dancers and chess players, the Baryshnikovs and Korchnois who felt hemmed in by an orthodox apparat. Lee Anderson, MP for Ashfield, is not the nimblest of twinkle-toes. His opening gambits have yet to be acclaimed by the English Chess Federation. And yet, in his way, he is an artist, an artist of eyepopping political bluntness.
Told off by foolish Tory whips, he could no longer express himself freely. That and a glance at polling numbers in his Nottinghamshire seat persuaded him to go over to the other side.
One difference between him and Rudolf Nureyev is that Rudi was signed by the Grand Ballet du Marquis de Cuevas whereas Big Lee got a staid room at the Institute of Civil Engineers, SW1.
His pas de deux was with the leader of Reform UK, Richard Tice. He’s that rich chap who looks like a hairdresser.
Reporters were summoned to the institute and its swirling carpets mid-morning. After preliminaries from ‘Monsieur Ricardo’, as we salon girls refer to Mr Tice, there came the big reveal. Mr Tice said something about how Reform was going to provide the main opposition to ‘Starmergeddon’; then Mr Anderson, 57, appeared at a side door and heaved himself on stage. He looked coy and a bit hot.
‘I want my country back.’ He was starting to explain that he had ‘done a lot of soul-searching about my political journey’ when there came sniggers from the journalists. ‘Who’s laughing?’ snapped Mr Anderson. Spying the political editor of one of the top- shelf dailies, he asked: ‘Is that you laughing?’ He read his speech off a tablet computer.
‘I might not know a lot of those long words people use in Parliament but I knew a few short ones,’ he confessed. He was fed up with being called ‘controversial’. ‘My opinions are not controversial. It is not controversial to be concerned about immigration.’
The stage was festooned with Union Jacks, including one flag almost directly in front of him. He had to peer round it. A slogan said ‘Let’s Make Britain Great’.
People said he was ‘taking a gamble’ but Mr Anderson declared himself comfortable with the odds. He had been greeted warmly at a football match he attended at the weekend. So no, he wasn’t going to apologise for saying that the Mayor of London, Sadiq Khan, was controlled by Islamists.
He was proud of Britain for giving the world ‘railways, culture, sports and medicines’. He added: ‘We defeated fascism in two world wars.’ Kaiser Wilhelm II was asked to comment on this accusation but did not respond by the time we were going to press.
‘I feel we are slowly giving our country away,’ growled Mr Anderson. ‘We are allowing people to erase our history. We are giving up our streets to a minority of people who literally hate our way of life. We are allowing people into our country who will never integrate and adapt to British values.’
Hang on. Didn’t Rishi Sunak says almost the same in Downing Street two weeks ago? The Tory whips may need to have words with Rishi next. Booting him out of the party might solve all sorts of problems.
REFRESHINGLy, Mr Anderson does not suck up to the Westminster lobby. One scribe was called ‘Mrs Journalist’, another ‘darling’. The last politician who did that to me was Norman St John-Stevas. Her ladyship Beth Rigby, the Sky News corncrake, was brushed aside like a speck of dandruff. One young colleague told me Mr Anderson was ‘not like other MPs who always treat me politely’. She obviously never met John Prescott.
A grumpy Mr Khan commented elsewhere that the Tory party ‘still can’t even utter the word Islamophobia’. At least I think that’s what he said. He’s not the clearest.
The only person who looked thrilled was the hairdresser, who was bursting with excitement and kept waving his arms, clearly believing it was all about him.