Re-Inventing Rishi... Again
Russell Jones, author of 'The Decade in Tory' and 'Four Chancellors and a Funeral', on why Sunak's latest relaunch ended up nose down in the English Channel
It’s been a week since Rishi Sunak’s most recent wild stab at finding literally any idea that will improve his electoral prospects. You may remember his last sticky fumble in the Tory Policy Tombola, a bit of performative cruelty towards those his party’s previous policies had left depressed and anxious, and as per usual it backfired. The mood of his MPs is now so grim that they too will probably need paying in vouchers.
Sunak has realised something needs to change, although he yet hasn’t realised it’s the Government. Which explains why we were subjected to yet another relaunch of the Prime Miniature, a man who has already been through more relaunches than the Space Shuttle, generating just as much hot air, and culminating in just as many disasters. The latest attempt revolved around Lego Elvis deciding the best way to appeal to voters is to scare us shitless. I guess making us piss ourselves laughing qualifies as a near miss.
The reveal party for New Rishi had all the right ingredients. He did that point-with-a-thumb thing that for some reason people think is a key prime ministerial trait. He waved at cameras as though he was struggling to get the attention of waiter. He even tried to pretend he cared about our survival in the forthcoming World War Three by arranging his eyebrows into a sad expression that looks like he's learned it from a dog.
But it was a waste of time because we are already terrified. Not of Putin and nuclear war, but of more prosaic things that in a functioning country wouldn't keep us awake at night: a gas bill, for example, or fear that in the unlikely event we ever get to see a GP, the health centre would fall in on us because somebody in power had decided to construct it out of foam.
Sunak wanted us to forget all of that, and to focus on his brand-new credentials as a man of action who was tough enough to see off the Red Army, having just successfully seen off Natalie Elphicke.
The switcheroo MP for Dover and erstwhile apologist for a sex offender demonstrated the wrap-around nature of our politics, having gone from being too right wing for a party that still contains John Redwood directly into a Labour party that – at time of writing – still finds space for John McDonnell.
This was all too much for Vidal Sassoon's nemesis, Michael Fabricant, who accused Elphicke of wanting to drown migrants and start a war with France. It was, said Fabo, "utterly amazing that someone with those views is accepted into Labour”, yet he seemed entirely relaxed that she'd been at home in his own party until just three days earlier.
Yes, you could cut the relaxation with a knife.
Meet the New Boss
Elphicke's absence meant a vacancy had arisen for Sheriff of The Nuttiest Tory Badlands. Chief contenders: Suella Braverman and Esther McVey, and I can't be alone in thinking the only reason the Minister for Common Sense is still wandering around in public is that all this bloody wokery means it is no longer acceptable to place the village idiot in the stocks.
McVey tackled the biggest issue facing the country: banning rainbow lanyards in an attempt to secure victory in the Culture War. She hasn't yet realised that the whole point of a Culture War is to never ever win it, because if you win, the misdirected anger might find a more appropriate target. Brexit, for example.
The Tories have “Got Brexit Done”, and enjoyed the process so much that now they have to “Get It Done Again” practically weekly. Right now, they're “Doing” the Windsor framework, a Brexit sticking plaster which is following the established pattern: it “failed on first contact with reality”, said Braverman. And she prefers policies that will never have to experience such contact, for instance Rwanda, which even James Cleverly had described as “batshit”.
He's still doing it though.
But Jim Dim had to abandon another bit of his predecessor's legacy this week, a money-making wheeze to levy gigantic fines from people too poor to sleep indoors. This is part of the government's wider attempt to convince Britain that people who have nothing have taken all your money, yet people drowning in riches are too poor to pay tax.
That sales pitch is not going well. The idea of fining someone for being homeless had to be abandoned after it was finally, very slowly, explained to the Home Secretary that people sleeping in doorways were rarely flush.
Along with her beloved Brexit and Rwanda, this made it a hat trick of failure for Braverman, catapulting her into prime position to be custodian of the ashes of a Conservative party she is helping to burn down.
We are still minutes, days, weeks or months away from the final conflagration being announced, so there's probably time for at least another half dozen versions of Rishi Sunak to emerge before the election. It's like being led by Mr Benn. The Tories should drop their current tactic of being funded by embarrassing racists, and instead sell collectable sticker books of all Rishi's relaunches.
Russell Jones is the author of two books, The Decade in Tory, and most recently, Four Chancellors and a Funeral. His forthcoming book Tories: The End of an Error, the final volume in the ‘Torygeddon’ Trilogy, is currently crowdfunding on Unbound. His legendary #The Week in Tory threads can be found @RussInCheshire on X/Twitter
An excellent summary of the current crazy situation...