There have been more welcoming greetings. When Liz Truss met the King at Buckingham Palace on Wednesday evening for their weekly get-together, the first thing Charles said to her was “Dear oh dear”. The sort of thing he normally says when told Prince Harry has signed another book deal, or that Prince Andrew has agreed to give another interview to Emily Maitlis. Still, he could have been speaking for all of us. And on the plus side, he did refrain from saying “WTF”.
Where the conversation went from there we can only imagine, as the cameras were hastily removed. But it’s more than likely that Librium Liz went on to tell him that everything was going to plan and the economy was in line for record growth in time for his coronation next May. And that she had totally nailed prime minister’s questions earlier in the day, had received a standing ovation from her backbenchers at the 1922 Committee and the opinion polls had given her a 25-point lead.
We have been left with only two explanations for Truss’s increasingly erratic behaviour, neither of which are mutually exclusive. The first is that she is even more dim than she first appears, that she genuinely doesn’t understand the damage she is doing. The second is that she is a delusional narcissist – the Tory party does seem to have a penchant for choosing them as their leader – who is in a state of total denial, who looks at the chaos in the financial markets and sees only strong government.
All of which makes life well-nigh impossible for the more sentient members of Librium Liz’s cabinet who happily signed up to her agenda – anything for a top job – without realising she was seriously dangerous. Or dangerously serious. That she actually meant some of the batshit policy she had droned on about in the summer during her leadership campaign.
Take Penny Mordaunt. At PMQs she had looked like someone riven by angst and remorse, tormented by the realisation that she had tied her career to someone hopelessly inept. Now at business questions in the Commons, she was forced to explain her sense of futility. It had been in no way a reflection of Truss’s performance. Rather it was her normal “resting” expression. She and Schopenhauer were as one in their existential despair. A smile was an aberration.
Of course she was right behind Librium Liz, Mordaunt said, unconvincingly. It looked more as if she was trying to remind Tory backbenchers that there was an alternative prime minister ready and waiting, should a vacancy arise. Normal terms and conditions applied. It all depended on how brave the party was feeling. Or how desperate.
Also in the line of fire was James Cleverly. He too had looked as if he would rather have been anywhere but at Truss’s side during PMQs. His reward was to have his loyalty tested by being sent out on the morning media round. He was as good a choice as any, largely because of his life goal to disprove nominative determinism. Cleverly is doggedly dim: fighting hard to suppress any nascent signs of intelligent life. He has no ideas of his own, so is just as happy repeating those of the prime minister. Even if he ends up making an idiot of himself in the process. Indeed, at times it’s almost as if he feels there’s a virtue in it.
The foreign secretary started bullishly on Sky News by saying the current chaos was nothing to do with the government. It had all been Labour’s fault for creating a negative narrative: Rachel Reeves had said the mini-budget was full of unfunded tax cuts and market traders had believed her. If only Reeves had kept quiet, the stock market would have soared. Kay Burley didn’t sound wholly convinced and instead invited him three times to say whether there would be further U-turns on tax cuts. Cleverly may be stupid but he’s not that stupid. So he avoided the question.
He did, though, have a new line for his interview with LBC. “Truss is doing exactly what she said she would do,” he announced. Which was odd, because no one could remember her saying she was going to trash the economy, put £500 a month on most people’s mortgages and force the Bank of England to bail out the pension funds. Though maybe she just whispered that last bit. “We’re doing better than everyone else,” he insisted. It’s just that we were a bit more honest about the problems than other countries, which is why it felt worse. Bloody foreigners.
By the time Cleverly – AKA Jimmy Dimly – made it on to the Today programme, he was a burnt-out train-wreck, any claims on coherent speech long since surrendered. Everyone knew Librium Liz was both weird and mad when they elected her – he didn’t seem to realise that most of us never had that chance – so people should just shut up. If there was a fault with her plan, it was that the pound didn’t realise how brilliant she was and had panicked. Naughty pound. There was no problem with unfunded tax cuts because the economy could grow by £60bn overnight. He had no idea how mad he sounded.
Chloe Smith had a different modus operandi for riding out the chaos in her first keynote speech as work and pensions secretary. First she announced she wouldn’t be taking any questions about the mini-budget or spending cuts because she didn’t know anything and if she did she would have to kill herself. She then spent 25 minutes gibbering cliches. ‘People should go as far as their talents allow,’ she said, unaware that she has gone far, far further than that. No glass ceiling for Chloe. A vision of dull mediocrity.
Elsewhere in Westminster, the vultures were circling. It’s only a matter of time before the rest of the mini-budget is shredded and cuts to corporation tax reversed. Kamikwasi’s credibility is in tatters, assuming he ever had any. He says he’s not going anywhere. At least he got that call right. Librium Liz just marking time until the next disaster catches her unawares. Welcome to the People’s Republic of Trussia.
