It’s becoming existential. First the Tory MPs began to wonder if there was any point to them being in Westminster. Sure, the title impresses some people and gets them one or two freebies, but those minor thrills soon start to pall as reality kicks in. Just drifting in the liminal spaces. Out of power. Out of control. And next to nothing to look forward to. They are less popular than Reform and in any case the next election is at least four years away. Days, weeks, months and years of nothingness lie ahead.
Now Conservatives are starting to have the same thoughts about Kemi Badenoch. At first they believed she was an exciting breath of fresh air. Someone ready to get stuck into any culture war.
But within a few months the excitement has worn off. KemiKaze is just the latest in a long line of disappointments. She’s not the Messiah. Just a hollow woman whom they can barely manage to look in the eye. Their cheers for her are just a muted, half-arsed Pavlovian response. We’re here because we’re here because we’re here.
The guilt works both ways. Because deep down Badenoch is also a disappointment to herself. She should never have allowed herself to be seduced into believing she could make a difference. If it’s any consolation, it’s a misjudgement all wannabe party leaders invariably make. Overweening ego and ambition before hubris. Now she has to find a way of living with herself. Of managing her party’s expectations. And her own.
Put bluntly, KemiKaze needs to do something and quick. Each week of underperformance only adds to hers and the party’s unease. But we’re in to a vicious circle. Because she’s bright enough to realise that nothing she can say or do will make a difference. Partly because she’s just not that good at this stuff. Partly because almost certainly no one could.
Too proud to even make an effort. She could sit down for hours in preparation for her one televised match-up of the week, but she can’t even be bothered to do that. Instead she channels her inner Beckett. Try Again. Fail Again. Fail Better. She knows she’s unlikely to last to the next election.
If there was one PMQs when KemiKaze was going to rise from the ashes – to take one last power drive – then surely it was to be this Wednesday. Business confidence low, interest rates at record highs and Labour’s self-inflicted wound of its anti-corruption minister being forced to resign. Hell, which of us hasn’t been handed somewhere to live with no questions asked?
Things don’t get much sweeter for an opposition leader. Kemi could hardly have written a better script for herself. Only she blew it.Right from the start her heart wasn’t in it. Then who could blame her. Just look at the state of her shadow cabinet. The idiot’s idiot Chris Philp in his union jack socks. Mel Stride, the man who will never be chancellor. Priti Patel. A joke. These were not serious politicians.
Last week KemiKaze had used all six questions on child grooming gangs. That hadn’t worked out so well. So this time she went scattergun. Something must land. Surely. She began with an attack on the government’s handling of the economy. It didn’t help that she had to qualify her question with the caveat that she knew the Tories had wrecked the economy and that global pressures had hit all countries. But apart from that …
Predictably Keir Starmer batted this away. Tough decisions. £22bn blackhole. He’s come to enjoy his outings at PMQs. Most prime ministers dread them, but he’ll make an exception when up against Badenoch. It was like she just wanted to get the whole thing over and done with as soon as possible. She knows that she hasn’t got a record to defend. Has yet to earn the right to be given a fair hearing.