Way of the World

At first, Extinction Rebellion seemed rather entertaining. Three years ago I was sitting in the House of Commons, covering a debate on Brexit, when into the gallery sauntered a group of six men and six women – wearing nothing but their underpants. Casually, the 12 of them strolled to the front of the gallery, turned around, and pressed their buttocks against the security glass.

MPS goggled. Police officers attempted to remove the interlopers, but with little success. It was soon clear why: they’d coated their buttocks in glue. Eventually, however, an officer arrived brandishing a can of solvent spray, and peeled them off the glass.

At the time, I assumed that what I’d witnessed was just an amusing one-off. But I was wrong. Soon, climate activists were staging all kinds of protests – and these ones were rather less amusing. Especially to those who were delayed getting to work, or to hospital, because climate activists had glued themselves to the road.

So it was good to hear this week that ministers will make it illegal to block roads in this way. Those protests were a dangerous nuisance.

Inevitably, climate activists will be outraged. They’ll angrily remind us of all the damage that mankind is still doing to the planet. But they should remember something. It isn’t just happening here. It’s happening abroad, too.

In particular, think of all the damage being caused by the war in Ukraine. During the first two months of the invasion, Ukrainian ecologists recorded more than 1,200 environmental disasters. Clearly, Vladimir Putin is a far greater threat to the ozone layer than the long-suffering British motorist.

So, since Extinction Rebellion can no longer glue themselves to British roads, perhaps they should go and glue themselves to Russian tanks, instead.

The Government has got itself into a terrible bind. In 2019 it pledged to build 300,000 new homes a year by the mid 2020s. Many voters, however, are fiercely opposed to new housing estates being built in their local area. This week the problem became more apparent than ever. First Michael Gove, the minister in charge of housing, appeared to distance himself from the 300,000-a-year target. But then No 10 insisted that the commitment still stands. Whatever the truth, it isn’t easy to see how the Government can deliver on its pledge without upsetting existing homeowners. Then again, I think I can imagine how they’ll manage it. Mr Gove, I suspect, will simply take a leaf out of Priti Patel’s book.

In short: he’ll build 300,000 new homes a year. But all of them will be in Rwanda.

This plan would enable the Government to say it has met its stated target, while successfully preserving all of the green belt. Admittedly, the idea may not be greeted with universal acclaim. The Government is already trying to force asylum seekers to go to Rwanda. Under this new proposal, it would be forcing everyone under the age of 40 to go to Rwanda, as well. Because it will be the only place any of them will be able to buy a house.

No matter how deafening the outcry, though, I believe that the Government will stand firm. After all, almost everyone under the age of 40 votes Labour. So sending them all to live 5,000 miles away may be the only way to win the next election.

There has been widespread disbelief at reports from Durham of a so-called “death match”: a particularly brutal form of competitive wrestling, which in this case is said to have involved combatants attacking each other with garden strimmers. Many people were surprised that so violent a contest should be held at all. But they were even more startled to read that it had been held at, of all places, the local Conservative club.

The public, however, should not be unduly alarmed. Because in point of fact, death matches are a longstanding Conservative Party tradition.

For example, Sir Edward Heath’s antipathy towards Margaret Thatcher stemmed not, as most people assume, from her triumph in the 1975 Tory leadership election, but from her comprehensive defeat of Sir Edward in a charity wrestling match at Cleethorpes Conservative Association in 1973. Spectators were reported to be dazzled by Lady Thatcher’s mastery of the chokeslam, the roundhouse kick and the spinning headlock elbow drop.

Similarly, during the row about the Maastricht Treaty in 1993, Sir John Major attempted to resolve party divisions by challenging backbench Eurosceptics to a winner-takes-all, no-holds-barred wrestling match at his local Conservative club in Huntingdon. It is understood that he planned to form a pro-brussels tag team with Lord Heseltine, who ordered his tailor to produce a bespoke leotard featuring the 12 stars of the EU flag on the front and the name “Tarzan” picked out in sequins on the back.

Disappointingly for party members, however, the showdown had to be cancelled after Sir Teddy Taylor pulled a hamstring while practising his reverse chinlock.

Still, the Conservatives are not the only party known to have settled internal differences in this manner. At Labour’s autumn conference of 1981 a dispute between the party’s numerous rival factions ended in an impromptu death match involving all 13,000 delegates.

After seven hours’ fighting the contest was declared a draw, although Dennis Healey was disqualified for beating Tony Benn with a young Jeremy Corbyn’s prize marrow.