Pmqs

He’s making the most of it before he gets the push. The Speaker chaired one of the longest-ever sessions of PMQs today. It lasted nearly an hour. He opened proceedings with a ceremonial speech welcoming a handful of visitors to the chamber. They thought they’d come to watch parliament but Bercow knew better. They were there to see him. He greeted each of his guests by name and then turned towards the public gallery, his right arm sweeping upwards in a gesture of munificent benediction. Caesar offering peace-terms to the humbled tribes of Gaul could scarcely have looked nobler. Jeremy Corbyn seized on the latest Brexit wounds. He asked the

More trouble for the Speaker today. It’s becoming clear that John Bercow is not just unpopular but unlucky as well. He skipped PMQs to attend the funeral of his predecessor, Michael Martin, who was ousted by a mutiny in 2009. Newer members, perhaps believing that insurrection is the correct way to eject an unwanted speaker, may be plotting Bercow’s dethronement already. Unluckier still, he’s just earned a new tabloid nickname, ‘Bully Bercow’, over allegations of “explosive and intemperate” behaviour toward staff, which he denies and are now under investigation. The phrase has a certain felicitous musicality – like Billy Bunter – that may soften the sting of its literal meaning, but

It was a masterclass in capitulation, a stunning act of self-slaughter. And yet, in a way, it was pitifully inept. At PMQs, Corbyn behaved like a quicksand victim who sucks in his breath in order to speed his descent.  May arrived at the House in trouble. Her Home Secretary has resigned and the PM has not yet picked her way clear of the Windrush omnishambles. Corbyn seemed unaware that Amber Rudd’s scalp was dangling from his belt and he surrendered the trophy as soon as he opened his mouth. He blamed Windrush on ‘successive home secretaries’. May pounced on this lazy soundbite, and extended its scope: ‘Including the last Labour government.’ For

The royal nativity opened proceedings at PMQs. Mrs May sounded thrilled about the newborn nipper but the Labour leader could barely conceal his ill-temper. Mr Corbyn slouched at the despatch box and forced a muttered tribute to ‘their baby’ out of the side of his mouth. He sounded like a man who’s just twisted his knee laying flowers on his mother-in-law’s grave. But why the aversion to Supermum Kate’s non-stop sproggery? A wise Marxist ought to welcome a population explosion at the palace. The more numerous and parasitical the royals, the swifter and bloodier their overthrow. Mr Corbyn led on the Windrush crisis and accused Mrs May of creating ‘a

Would she resign over Windrush? Having spent nearly eight years at the heart of government, Theresa May was clearly deeply involved in the scandal, and as PMQs began she seemed nervous and ill-at-ease. Lispy almost. She started on safe ground by thanking the Windrush generation for their ‘massive contribution’ to modern Britain. Then she garbled Windrush and turned it into ‘Windruss’. Then came this: ‘For those who have mistakenly received letters challenging them, I want to… apologise to them – and to say sorry to anyone who (has been) caused confusion and anxiety…as a result of this.’ Prezza couldn’t have put it better. She was floundering and Corbyn had yet to ask

Poor Jeremy Corbyn seemed muted and cowed at PMQs. He stooped over the despatch box, his chin down, his voice murmuring like a trapped bluebottle, his stature loose and uncertain. He grizzled through his six questions without a trace of passion or conviction. He couldn’t even whip himself into his trademark strimmer-call of petulant outrage. Is he having a bit of a crisis? Last night Jewish protestors gathered outside parliament to denounce him. Which is rather ironic. One story has it that his parents met at an anti-Mosley rally. Perhaps the parents of a future Labour leader will meet at an anti-Corbyn march. May had brought up Labour’s anti-Semitism last week

Brexit is going well, apparently. And the prime minister seemed in chipper mood at PMQs. She was even enjoying herself. To neutrals this is a distressing sight. To fans of the Tory leader it must seem downright dangerous. History has taught us that when May feels she’s on top the world, the world promptly lands on top of May. Corbyn raised council tax. His theme was Tory misrule, higher bills and vanishing services. Privatisation fetishists at Northamptonshire, he said, had caused the council to implode entirely. May felt herself on solid ground as she fought back by cataloguing Corbyn’s troubles at council level which have led to two recent Labour

John Bercow, parliament’s anti-bullying tsar, was strangely reticent at PMQs today. The all-but-speechless Speaker limited himself to a single intervention. ‘Order! Lots of questions to get through. And they must be heard.’ That was it. Twelve brisk words. Usually he spends several minutes bobbing up and down and screeching at MPs about the importance of behaving decorously in the chamber, and ‘conducting themselves in a statesmanlike manner’ – one of his favourite phrases. Allegations of misconduct seem to have curbed his interfering verbosity. What a relief. With no interruptions from the umpire, the session moved fast for once. The Russian crisis has made the PM look imposingly Churchillian in the last

Jezza was on spectacularly dreary form at PMQs. He droned through a communique about International Women’s Day which made the celebration sound inexpressively dispiriting. The movement is all about ‘how far we’ve come and how far we have to go,’ he moaned. He sounded like an Arctic explorer giving a live commentary as he slices off his frost-bitten toes, one by one, with a pen-knife. May hadn’t mentioned Women’s Day. And Corbyn, by bringing it up, had laid himself open to attack. It was swift and deadly. And beautiful in its way. ‘Thank-you for telling me it’s International Women’s Day tomorrow,’ said May in a voice that was full of

Bit of a rum PMQs today. Jeremy Corbyn, who has always loathed the EU and now pretends to admire it, asked May about Brexit. May, who has always admired the EU and now pretends to loathe it, fobbed him off with glib sound-bites. ‘Take back control of our borders,’ ‘protect workers’ rights,’ and so on. Corbyn asked a long question about the Government’s ‘desired outcome’. He got a four-word answer: ‘A bespoke economic partnership.’ Mr Speaker decided that he should be the star-turn today. Perhaps he sought to wow a posse of French MPs who were witnessing the bun-fight from the gallery. Quelling an early outbreak of shouting, the Speaker

Boris Johnson came up early in PMQs. The Cabinet’s new ‘shadow chancellor’ has called for extra money – five billion quid – to be lavished on the NHS. Jeremy Corbyn asked Mrs May if she agreed. She dustily replied that the real chancellor had promised more than five billion last autumn. He’d pledged six! Six billion didn’t satisfy Mr Corbyn. He called the Prime Minister out by cutting her pledge in half and subtracting £200m. This gave £2.8bn which, he, said, had been ‘spread like thin gruel over two years.’ Good word, gruel. Evocative of prison-hulks and Dickensian poor-houses. It adds colour to Labour’s dream-picture of the Tories as a set