3 hours ago
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Who would have thought it? Most of us would have put money on Kemi Badenoch failing to read the room for Keir Starmer’s last ever prime minister’s questions. Not a bit. From her opening tribute to Ann Widdecombe to her final gags, Kemi was the model of warmth, generosity and tenderness. Pitch perfect. Not a word out of place. So much so that you couldn’t help wondering if the real Kemi had been locked up in her office and her minders had sent a doppelganger out to the Commons. If so, it would be lovely if we could see more of her body double.
There were loud cheers from the Labour benches as Keir made his way past cabinet colleagues to his place on the frontbench. It’s one of life’s little tragedies that a prime minister’s popularity peaks when they are on their way out of the job. Suddenly, any misgivings that MPs might have over their leader’s management of the country are forgiven. It’s like falling for an ex all over again. Which, on balance, is something best avoided. Things tend to get messy quite quickly.
The looks on the faces of Keir’s cabinet team were more nuanced. As was their leaving present to their boss. A carriage clock is the sort of gift you give to someone you don’t really know or care about. I suspect it may not make the cut in the Starmer home. If you’re after a cheap timepiece, try the Islington charity shops in the next few weeks.
Many of the cabinet are likely to go down with the ship. Rachel Reeves and Liz Kendall frequently seemed close to tears. If not, at times, in tears. Two years ago, they both thought their jobs might be safe for a decade. As Kemi was to point out, life comes at you fast in politics. Now the best Rachel can hope for is a demotion.
Standing behind the speaker’s chair was Ed Miliband. Seemingly lost in thought. Presumably wondering if, as some papers had been reporting, Andy Burnham had been spooked at the last minute into not putting him in charge of the Treasury. All that plotting just to stay in the same place. As for Shabana Mahmood, she was nowhere to be seen. Bizarrely she is now the firm favourite to be Burnham’s chancellor. Despite the fact she has no economic experience, and has publicly declared she would like to remain home secretary. Go figure.
As for Keir, this was to be one last gentle 45-minute effort before he steps down on Monday. He won’t miss the preparation and the repartee – he was never the best at thinking on his feet – but he will miss the theatre. The feeling of being at the centre of things. The most important person in any room in which he finds himself. All prime ministers do. They say to themselves that they are looking forward to spending more time with their families, but part of them dies when they are out of office. A wound that never heals.
Not that Starmer ever really excelled at PMQs. He was never a Tony Blair or a David Cameron. Or, when he wasn’t lying or being evasive, Boris Johnson. They could command the dispatch box. Keir never could. He wasn’t a natural showman. Just someone you could rely on to put in a solid shift. Never a disaster, seldom memorable. The ultimate mid-table prime minister. Theresa May, Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak could only look on with envy at his accomplishment in the Commons.
On a star rating you would give him a consistent six-and-a-half. Blessed by the fact that, for the first year or so, Kemi was a walking disaster area at PMQs. Cursed by his own policy shortcomings and U-turns. Battered by international conflicts over which he had no control. Never quite recovering from his decision to appoint Peter Mandelson as ambassador to the US. His judgment having proved to be terminally fallible.
There again, PMQs was never Keir’s problem. It wasn’t his performances on Wednesday lunchtimes that did for him. It was all the other stuff. So it was a relief to see him being allowed to bow out with some dignity and good grace. And if the proceedings did occasionally lapse into sentimentality and mawkishness, then the Commons was none the worse for that. All too often we only get to see our politicians ripping each other apart. Seeing that they can behave with decency towards one another is good for the soul. They do have one, after all.
Tory Graham Stuart got the ball rolling with a gentle doozy. Keir was the Jude Bellingham of the Labour party. His 400 MPs were dodgy referees brandishing the red card. Keir smiled. That probably summed up his own feelings. He must have been sorely tempted to skip this final PMQs and fly to Atlanta for England’s World Cup semi-final against Argentina that evening. He could easily have got away with it.
“I have an important appointment with my TV at 8pm tonight,” he said. We all have. Fingers crossed he gets to go to New York on Sunday for the final. He’s earned the freebie.
The exchanges with Kemi were almost touching. First she thanked his for his tribute to Ann Widdecombe and the suggestion she was given a memorial shield in the Commons, similar to the ones for Jo Cox and David Amess.
Then she made a couple of decent gags about Labour treachery – she knows she will inevitably be on the end of the same kind of betrayal from her own backbenchers at some point in the next few years – before uniting the house with some great lines on Count Binface and Farage. Kemi concluded by extending her heartfelt wishes to Keir and his family.
As for Keir, he just rolled along with it. Soaking up the love. Offering his thanks to Kemi and his love for his family and friends. At times he looked close to tears as he directed his remarks to his wife and children who were at the other end of the Commons.
And the love kept on coming. Ed Davey, who, after making a shameless pitch to appear on Strictly Come Dancing – part of his Ann Widdecombe tribute – then had a pop at Farage before going into a rambling Toy Story anecdote. Keir replied that he hoped Ed would take advantage of the government’s £20 off a family day at Chessington World of Adventures.
Even Richard Tice picked up the mood. You never know quite where you are with Dicky. One day he’s all charm, the next he sounds deranged. Still, better than Zia Yusuf, who is always deranged.
The last word went to Carolyn Harris, a longtime Starmer supporter. She didn’t have a question. She just wanted to fight through her tears and thank Keir and his family for all they had done. By now, Keir was near to tears again as he said it was time to pass on the baton, and that he would be cheering on Andy Burnham from the sidelines. Not sure we can say the same about Labour MP Neil Coyle. He had been the lone wolf who had nominated Catherine West for the leadership, on the grounds “there was no more room up Andy’s arse”.
With that, Keir left the chamber. Labour, Lib Dem and Reform MPs all stood to clap him out. The Tories all remained seated. It was the one churlish moment in an otherwise near perfect display of decency. It wouldn’t have cost them anything to get to their feet. Clearly Kemi can only keep being nice for a few minutes. It’s a start.
