It’s all very confusing. On Monday, during his statement to the Commons, I could have sworn I heard Rishi Sunak say – with great modesty – he had been vitally important in international efforts to limit the violence in the Middle East. Only his personal interventions with Benjamin Netanyahu, Mohammed bin Salman and Abdel Fatah al-Sisi had prevented an even worse humanitarian catastrophe. Some were even proclaiming him to be a global peacemaker. A saviour among men.
So it was a surprise on Tuesday to hear James Cleverly making pretty much the same claims for himself during Foreign Office questions. Time and again, the foreign secretary would preface an answer with a reference to his own diplomatic missions to the Middle East. He alone had a full grasp of what was at stake as politicians from Israel, Turkey, Egypt and Qatar had begged him for advice. Sure, the prime minister had done his bit, but that had been largely cosmetic. The real donkey work had been done by him. The Great Jimmy Dimly.
There’s something about a war and other global disasters that brings out the vanity in foreign leaders. It’s not quite the simple shallowness of politicians flying around the world in search of photo opportunities back home. Though that’s certainly part of it. Rather, it’s also the megalomaniac belief that you can make a difference.
Which may be true if you’re the president of a superpower, like Joe Biden: Israel always takes notice of the US. But the UK barely has a walk-on part in Middle Eastern politics. At best we are tolerated. Given a polite hearing and then ignored. At worst, an unwanted distraction. Sunak and Cleverly have been merely living out their own statesmanlike fantasies during their jet-setting adventures.
The reality of this was soon evident once Cleverly got beyond the self-promoting soundbites and tried to answer penetrating questions from MPs on both sides of the house. Because he didn’t really have very much to add other than he cared very deeply and was doing his best. Which was nice to know but didn’t get us very far. Because his sphere of influence was extremely limited.
Inevitably most questions were about the conflict in Israel and Gaza. Tory Desmond Swayne wondered what the chances were for a two-state solution given the war and Israel’s refusal to give up its illegal settlements. Jimmy D just wittered helplessly. The two-state solution was what everyone wanted, he assured the Commons. Really? Hamas and Netanyahu have got an odd way of showing it. But the foreign secretary was certain that everyone really wanted peace. It was within the grasp of all of us.
That was just the start. MP after MP – not just Labour members with large Muslim populations in their constituencies – wanted more done to help civilians in Gaza. Even the shadow foreign secretary, David Lammy, interrupted his ongoing bromance with Cleverly. Look, I love you a lot, Jimmy D. Big hugs and all that. And you’re doing a great job. But Israel has a legal and moral duty to obey international law. You get it? The Hamas atrocities of 7 October were unforgivable. But you can’t respond to one war crime with war crimes of your own.
The foreign secretary looked distinctly awkward. He didn’t like the way this session was going. It was all well above his pay grade. Um, he had spoken to the Israelis and they had assured him they were operating within international law. And who was he to check their claims? That would be a bit rude given everything they were going through. So he was sure everything was just fine.
I see, said countless other MPs. Could we agree then on what constituted a breach of international law? How about the doctrine of collective punishment? Withholding water, fuel, food and medical supplies? Jimmy D was sure that none of that was happening and if it was then it was all happening within international law. If there were disagreements it was because his definition of international law was a bit different to everyone else’s. As in international not-law.
Nor could he agree to a ceasefire. Though he couldn’t say why. Surely that is a necessary precondition for any peace settlement. But Jimmy D wanted it both ways. He wanted to be thought a player. A man of influence. When really he has none. Why is that so hard for this government to say?
Hell, there are plenty of things to blame Sunak for, but war in the Middle East isn’t one of them. Laid bare, the government position is one of hopelessness. A ceasefire is impossible. So there is nothing anyone can do to stop thousands more civilians dying in Gaza and Israel. “We’re doing all we can,” said Andrew Mitchell, minister for development. He’s almost certainly right. It’s just that what we can do is next to nothing.
We can, though, still be beastly to foreigners, as Robert Jenrick was keen to point out in his later statement on immigration. Plus ça change. We hadn’t actually done very much to get rid of refugees yet, mind. Despite the bad weather. Or maybe because. Foreigners in small boats love the thought of drowning. But don’t worry. All that was about to change. He was about to close a few hotels and force people into five-in-a-room quarters in a formerly legionella-infested barge.
This all went down a storm with the dozens of Tories in the Commons who were queueing up to ask for hotels in their constituencies to be taken off the list. Honest Bob had to let them down gently. He had been planning to favour hotels in marginal constituencies. But that now included anyone with a majority of less than 30,000. Or everyone. So there was going to have to be a Tory party ballot. A Christmas raffle.
On Monday, Thérèse Coffey had been taken to visit some flood victims. She couldn’t have looked less interested. What did people expect if they bought homes near to water? These people could just go fuck themselves and stop bothering her. So on Tuesday, she took her rudeness to the environment select committee.
Species reintroduction? Couldn’t be arsed. Tenant farmers? Someone else’s problem. Polluted rivers. One for Ofwat. Why should she get involved? Food insecurity? Yawn. That was for the DWP. Flooding. All the fault of the wind for blowing in the rain from the wrong direction. Literally, nothing was anything to do with her. It’s almost as if she actively wants to be sacked in the coming reshuffle. A sketch writer’s loss, if no one else’s.
Depraved New World by John Crace (Guardian Faber, £16.99). To support the Guardian and Observer, pre-order your copy and save 18% at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
