“The prime minister is either incompetent, gullible or a liar. Or all three.” So tweeted Stephen Flynn MP, the SNP Westminster leader, last week when it emerged that former US ambassador Peter Mandelson had failed Foreign Office security vetting.
Having repeatedly told Parliament that “full due process was followed”, Keir Starmer insists he would have blocked the appointment had he known. – and set for a dramatic showdown in the House of Commons over an affair that simply won’t go away.
This afternoon, Starmer’s mission is simple: to update the House on the latest revelations about Mandelson’s appointment, and persuade MPs – not least his own Labour benches – that he is neither incompetent nor a liar. If he can get away with merely being “gullible”, while offering an apology and sufficiently answering difficult questions, he may yet see off those calling for his resignation.
Preparing for a Commons grilling is not fun. I have worked with my fair share of embattled prime ministers and frontbenchers, and you’d be amazed how many of them would rather be roasted by Jeremy Paxman in his heyday, given an earful by members of the public – or eat a kangaroo penis, in the case of Matt Hancock – than be scrutinised by their peers. Getting mentally punched in the head for three hours straight by people you eat, drink and – in some cases – sleep with is no one’s idea of a good time.
Certainly, the prime minister has big, potentially career-altering questions to answer. Are the data points that barred Mandelson from developed vetting status so different from the reports the PM had already received on the “reputational risks” associated with appointing him to the role? Did the PM, perhaps inadvertently, mislead the House when he said in February that Mandelson had passed security checks? If so, why did he not correct the record at the soonest opportunity? And why did he never think to ask about the outcome of the security checks, the ones he insists would have prevented Mandelson from ever being sent to Washington?
Given the speed of developments in AI, who knows if Minority Report-style technology will one day rule out future prime ministers being able to dodge what they knew, or forgot, or would have done. MPs have now had four days – a luxurious amount of time – to prepare their questions for the prime minister. And Downing Street has had plenty of time to prepare answers.
While the nation waits for the prime minister to appear at the dispatch box, I thought I would offer a sense of what will be going on behind the scenes, right up to the moment that Starmer gets to his feet to speak.
Many were surprised to see the prime minister in Paris on Saturday, meeting the French president Emmanuel Macron to discuss the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz. Starmer then travelled from Paris to HMNB Clyde for a defence visit. Why? World leaders and submarines are great optics of him, given that foreign affairs is where the public largely think Starmer is doing a good job.
A strong “getting on with the job” message also contrasts nicely with the grainy photo of Andy Burnham loitering on Angela Rayner’s doorstep, which appeared in the Sunday papers. Plus, all that international travel gives him productive time to prep with the PMQs team.
His diary today will largely have been cleared so that the PM can bone up on his brief before his expected appearance mid-afternoon; ministerial statements and urgent questions are taken from around 3.30pm, depending on how long earlier business takes.
Until that moment, the large ringbinders of files that ministers carry in the Commons – known as the “pack” – will be being constantly updated, as facts are triple-checked and exact wording is worked out. After all, a lot might hang on very precise uses of tenses, modal verbs and so on.
Easy questions will be handed out to friendly MPs hoping for a slot in the next reshuffle. Members of the cabinet will be bayoneted onto the front bench under strict instructions to nod and frown, and not cry.
His inner circle will be preparing him for his big moment. In my experience, it’s all about the little things, beginning with the basics. Eat some slow-release carbs and, depending on your general tolerance, don’t drink coffee for an hour beforehand, or you’ll be sweating uncomfortably for more than one reason.
As fresh MPs tag-team into the Commons for the second hour, you will gradually run out of steam (hence the slow-release snack). Do not lose your temper. With every question, imagine someone listening who has never even heard of you, and how reasonable you would like them to think you are. Use the soft questions from allies to mentally rest. You know what they’ll say, you know how you’ll answer. Check out for a bit. Think of your favourite Arsenal goals, or what notable eggs there are besides Humpty Dumpty…
Ordeal over, the prime minister will go back to his parliamentary office to hear how the outside world is receiving his apology/defence/memory loss. He will be exhausted, but he will have done it – got through the day, not winning, but still in one piece. His ministers will go on air and say he’s smashed it and that it’s time to move on. All opposition parties will call for his resignation. The sun will set.
Then, as it likes to do, the sun will rise, and Olly Robbins – the now former FCDO permanent secretary who the prime minister sacked last week for overruling security vetting concerns over Mandelson – will have his day in Parliament, at the Foreign Affairs Select Committee, where he will explain his department’s role in the saga.
The prime minister can only hope that Robbins is not one for p***ing into tents.
Cleo Watson is a former deputy chief of staff to Boris Johnson, and co-host of The Independent’s politics podcast, ‘In The Room’, with ex-deputy cabinet secretary Helen MacNamara. New episodes come out every Friday on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, and YouTube
