
Conservative pundits are gloating: 130 Labour MPs have rebelled against the government’s bill to cut the welfare budget by a mere four per cent.
That earth-shattering reduction of a budget now topping £100 billion a year is to come at the expense of genuinely disabled people, those suffering from MS, Parkinson’s and similar conditions.
Should the bill be enacted, they’ll have to wash themselves and prepare their own meals. Since most of those patients are unable to perform such arduous tasks, they may starve to death in their fetid houses, see if the government cares.
Now, about 11 per cent of all Britons, 7,000,000 in absolute numbers, receive some form of disability or incapacity benefits. This means we have more cripples now than in the aftermath of either World War, which strikes me as incongruous.
Moreover, the number of such benefit recipients has doubled over the past 20 years. Why? The demographics of Britain haven’t changed much since then, and I can’t remember offhand any major wars claiming vast numbers of limbs during that period.
The hard-nosed, insensitive part of me pushes the rest of my system to conclude that perhaps some of those recipients aren’t so disabled that they can’t get a job or look after their own nourishment and hygiene. Such malingerers would be the first place I’d look for possible cuts in the welfare budget.
Yet even those few who, unlikely as it sounds, may be even more hard-nosed and insensitive than I am would agree that MS and Parkinson’s patients can’t survive without help. Choosing them as the first group to suffer benefit cuts looks insane.
However, when Chancellor Rachel Reeves mentioned the forthcoming cuts in her Spring Statement last March, most of the same MPs reacted like ecstatic schoolgirls throwing items of their intimate apparel at pop stars. Why such a change of heart now?
Having calmed down after their fit of Schadenfreude, those same pundits gathered their wits and came up with a credible answer. The dissenting MPs are driven by their numeracy, not conscience.
They’ve looked at the polls, seen where they are heading, pondered the rapid rise of Reform, and realised where Starmer’s stewardship will lead them at the next election: the rough and tumble of private life. That harrowing prospect would have made them rebel with equal gusto against any bill proposed by Sir Keir.
This time around, their lips may be saying “no cuts to disability benefits”, but their hearts are screaming “Starmer out!”. That’s what they really mean – and that’s where I disrespectfully disagree.
This reminds me of the old Persian tale about a tyrannical shah dying. Jubilant crowds sing and dance all over the land, and only one old woman is weeping quietly. “What’s the matter, Grandma?” a passer-by asks. “Aren’t you happy the tyrant is dead?” “Young man,” replies the old woman, fighting tears. “I’ve lived for a very long time, and I’ve seen many tyrants come and go. And you know what? Each incoming tyrant was worse than the outgoing one.”
Nowadays, most people vote not so much for some candidates as against others. The general train of thought runs along these lines: “The present government is rubbish. It’s so [expletive deleted] bad, that the next lot have to be better. [Expletive deleted] me, they can’t possibly be any worse.”
That’s where those hypothetical individuals are terribly wrong. The next lot can be worse and usually are. Perfection is absolute, but rubbishness is relative. There is, by definition, no upper limit to the former, but there always is a new lower limit to the latter.
In this case, the talk in Whitehall is that a Labour leadership contest is brewing, and Starmer may soon be ousted. The signals being sent out suggest that his replacement will combine Disraeli’s sagacity with Churchill’s fortitude and Attlee’s appeal to Left-leaning voters.
Yes, but who specifically? Funny you should ask. Deputy PM Angie Rayner, of course. Why?
That half-literate girl as feeble of mind as she is febrile of ideology is the talk of the town. An éminence grise and PM in waiting, she is supposed to be the big race-neutral hope of the Labour Party and the whole country.
Well, let me tell you, Starmer may have already put Britain into a coffin, but you can rest (or rather tremble) assured the Angie will hammer the nails in. This fire-eating class warrior and member of the Labour Friends of Palestine promised Britons in 2021 that her party “cannot get any worse than a bunch of scum, homophobic, racist, misogynistic, absolute pile… of banana republic… Etonian… piece of scum.”
Angie also supports ‘transgender rights’, whatever they are, and of course Black Lives Matter, something Karl Popper would call an unfalsifiable proposition. Actually, going down the whole list of Angie’s ideological positions is a waste of time. She has never seen a destructive cause she couldn’t love. Just name one at random, and she supports it.
‘Things can’t get any worse’ is idealism at its most simple-minded, but, alas, no one has ever accused the electorate in any country of voting on the basis of an historical perspective and sound political principles.
That unfortunate sentiment was behind the Labour 170-seat landslide at the last general election. People, including some of my readers, were saying, rightly, that the Tories were rubbish and, wrongly, that they had to go.
Now they are gone, possibly for ever, and we have the worst government in British history, or at least one that can successfully compete for that honour. And, given the chance, Angie can prove that things can indeed get much, much worse.
Moreover, replace Labour with any other realistically possible government, and things still won’t improve much if at all. The social, economic, political and cultural foundations of today’s Britain are termite-eaten and so rotten that the resulting cracks can’t be papered over.
The whole rickety building must be pulled down, the site cleared of debris, and a new structure erected. Malignant rot of socialist subversion has penetrated the old one, and, unless the problem is dealt with decisively, the house will come tumbling down like Jericho.
The starting point ought to be the thorough dismantling of the welfare state, to which the true-blue Tory Peregrine Worsthorne wanted Britain to “claim allegiance” back in 1954. So the country did, in one of the worst displays of self-harm in her history.
Neither Britain nor any other European country can keep afloat that leaky raft floating on the rowdy ocean of debt. The problem is so much more than just economic. It’s above all moral.
With 11 per cent of all Britons on disability benefits and over 50 per cent on some kind of state support, the nation has been so thoroughly corrupted that any government could introduce drastic changes only at its peril.
Even if some politicians, say Nigel Farage, don’t start out as socialists, the closer they get to power, the more socialist they get. Even a solidly anti-socialist PM like Margaret Thatcher blessed with the best advice the country could offer was only able to touch things up here or there, shoring the tottering structure up as best she could.
Everything she was able to do has since been mostly undone, by Labour and Tory governments alike. Some of them let the disease fester unimpeded, some try to put a coat of paint on a condemned building. But condemned it remains.
So forgive me if I refuse to gloat over Starmer’s impending demise. On the contrary, I hope Sir Keir hangs on for as long as he can. Whatever comes after him is practically guaranteed to be even worse.