Keir Starmer has taken the unusual step of summoning his Cabinet back from their summer holidays for an “emergency meeting”.
What pressing matter will our rulers chew over? The public’s simmering fury over unvetted migrants being given full bed and board in hotels, perhaps?
Surely they’ll touch on the working-class revolt against those hotels – a very English uprising that has spread from Epping up to Nottingham, Leeds and across the nation.
Or maybe they’ll finally get down to brass tacks on our insanely porous borders. I would certainly call it an “emergency” when hundreds of young men with regressive beliefs are pouring into the nation day in, day out.
Don’t be silly. It is not for anything as trifling as Britain’s own problems that ministers are cutting short their overseas jaunts. No, the emergency they’ll be discussing is Gaza.
The PM is arousing his ministers from their sunbed slumber to discuss the “next steps” the Government should take to help resolve the crisis in the Middle East.
Nobody doubts that what is happening in Gaza is dreadful. And yet there is something faintly ridiculous, not to mention ludicrously self-regarding, about Starmer’s calling of an emergency conflab.
It is a wild overestimation of modern Britain’s global clout to fantasise that we might fix a bloody, complex war an entire continent away.
Starmer might fancy himself as Mr Human Rights mounting his white steed to save the wretched of Gaza, but I doubt either Israel or Hamas will have time for the ponderings of a PM who can’t even get his own national house in order.
What about the UK, Sir Keir? Or the “Yookay”, as they call it on the internet: a disparaging term for this once proud nation that’s been pummelled by the ideology of multiculturalism and the incompetence of our rubbish new ruling class.
Britain feels taut with anger right now. The public is fuming over officialdom’s flagrant abandonment of its most basic duty: to defend the borders. Brits feel like they’re being taken for a ride. They face tougher taxes while illegal immigrants are fed and bedded in hotels. They’re called racist toerags if they dare to speak about the “grooming gang” scandal or the fact that some illegal immigrants are carrying out sexual assaults.
Even the good, loving mums who hit the streets of Epping to say they don’t want large numbers of men from afar mingling with their kids were damned as “far Right”. The “emergency” Starmer should be addressing is why some Brits can’t seem to speak about our social decay without being likened to Nazis.
Starmer’s emergency meeting on Gaza feels like a big, shiny deflection from crises closer to home. Bereft of solutions for the problems plaguing Britain, he opts instead to pontificate on Gaza.
How much easier it is to clamber on to your moral soapbox and say “Gaza is suffering” – something everyone agrees with – than it is to overhaul Britain’s own madly lax border controls or address the heartfelt concerns of millions of our citizens.
This emergency meeting smacks of a showy virtue-signal designed to distract attention from the uselessness of this Government. Starmer hopes his preaching on the Gaza calamity will make him look statesmanlike for once. A true statesman, of course, sorts out his own state before wagging a finger at other states.
We shouldn’t be surprised. Starmer has always been more comfortable mixing with global bigwigs and holding forth on human rights than he has with listening to the “oiks” here at home.
This is the man who once said he’s happier hanging out with the gold-collared superclass at the World Economic Forum in Davos than he is in that “tribal, shouting place” of Westminster. Charming. Way to demean Britain’s democratic institutions.
You get the impression that this new breed of technocrat finds governing a drag. They far prefer tweeting and moral preening and soirees with super-rich moralists.
This is Starmer summed up: as we approach the first anniversary of the Southport massacre and the riots that followed it, he holds an emergency meeting about a strip of land 3,000 miles away. What about this land, Sir Keir? The one where you were elected PM – remember?
Keir Starmer has taken the unusual step of summoning his Cabinet back from their summer holidays for an “emergency meeting”.
What pressing matter will our rulers chew over? The public’s simmering fury over unvetted migrants being given full bed and board in hotels, perhaps?
Surely they’ll touch on the working-class revolt against those hotels – a very English uprising that has spread from Epping up to Nottingham, Leeds and across the nation.
Or maybe they’ll finally get down to brass tacks on our insanely porous borders. I would certainly call it an “emergency” when hundreds of young men with regressive beliefs are pouring into the nation day in, day out.
Don’t be silly. It is not for anything as trifling as Britain’s own problems that ministers are cutting short their overseas jaunts. No, the emergency they’ll be discussing is Gaza.
The PM is arousing his ministers from their sunbed slumber to discuss the “next steps” the Government should take to help resolve the crisis in the Middle East.
Nobody doubts that what is happening in Gaza is dreadful. And yet there is something faintly ridiculous, not to mention ludicrously self-regarding, about Starmer’s calling of an emergency conflab.
It is a wild overestimation of modern Britain’s global clout to fantasise that we might fix a bloody, complex war an entire continent away.
Starmer might fancy himself as Mr Human Rights mounting his white steed to save the wretched of Gaza, but I doubt either Israel or Hamas will have time for the ponderings of a PM who can’t even get his own national house in order.
What about the UK, Sir Keir? Or the “Yookay”, as they call it on the internet: a disparaging term for this once proud nation that’s been pummelled by the ideology of multiculturalism and the incompetence of our rubbish new ruling class.
Britain feels taut with anger right now. The public is fuming over officialdom’s flagrant abandonment of its most basic duty: to defend the borders. Brits feel like they’re being taken for a ride. They face tougher taxes while illegal immigrants are fed and bedded in hotels. They’re called racist toerags if they dare to speak about the “grooming gang” scandal or the fact that some illegal immigrants are carrying out sexual assaults.
Even the good, loving mums who hit the streets of Epping to say they don’t want large numbers of men from afar mingling with their kids were damned as “far Right”. The “emergency” Starmer should be addressing is why some Brits can’t seem to speak about our social decay without being likened to Nazis.
Starmer’s emergency meeting on Gaza feels like a big, shiny deflection from crises closer to home. Bereft of solutions for the problems plaguing Britain, he opts instead to pontificate on Gaza.
How much easier it is to clamber on to your moral soapbox and say “Gaza is suffering” – something everyone agrees with – than it is to overhaul Britain’s own madly lax border controls or address the heartfelt concerns of millions of our citizens.
This emergency meeting smacks of a showy virtue-signal designed to distract attention from the uselessness of this Government. Starmer hopes his preaching on the Gaza calamity will make him look statesmanlike for once. A true statesman, of course, sorts out his own state before wagging a finger at other states.
We shouldn’t be surprised. Starmer has always been more comfortable mixing with global bigwigs and holding forth on human rights than he has with listening to the “oiks” here at home.
This is the man who once said he’s happier hanging out with the gold-collared superclass at the World Economic Forum in Davos than he is in that “tribal, shouting place” of Westminster. Charming. Way to demean Britain’s democratic institutions.
You get the impression that this new breed of technocrat finds governing a drag. They far prefer tweeting and moral preening and soirees with super-rich moralists.
This is Starmer summed up: as we approach the first anniversary of the Southport massacre and the riots that followed it, he holds an emergency meeting about a strip of land 3,000 miles away. What about this land, Sir Keir? The one where you were elected PM – remember?