Spare a kind thought for the new political fall girl
For heaven’s sake, have some priti. I mean ‘pity’. OK, to have one wholly unauthorised meeting with the Israeli government may be considered a misfortune, while a dozen looks like carelessness. But these things happen. A beach holiday is a long time in politics.
Yet consider the private drama behind the public shemozzle. Second only to Napoleon’s retreat from Moscow, the flight home from Kenya of the former Secretary of State for International Development tops the chart for ignominious returns. In some ways it was worse. Napoleon may have been frozen to the bone, but at least he didn’t have 22,000 ravening Twitterati keeping tabs on his trudge through the snow.
Priti Patel brought trouble upon herself. Yet which demonic deity decreed that the storm should peak while she was far from home, thus rendering her humiliation so protracted? Rarely can the sword of Damocles have hovered for so long with such certainty of falling in the end.
How did she occupy those long hours between Nairobi and London? What thoughts assailed her? To know that we would need a window into her soul. But perhaps we can hazard a guess...
What do I tell the PM? Should I plead comparative injustice?
“Oh miss, it’s so unfair! Look what Boris did – why don’t you sack him? Just because he’s big and bonkers and after your job, you always let him get away with it...”
No, not good. First rule of sound political discourse: keep Boris and Hitler out of it. Perhaps I should try reasoning with her instead...
“Well, Prime Minister, you know these holidays. There you are in, say, Wales, walking in the mountains and enjoying the view. Before you know it, you’ve called a spurious general election, bungled the campaign and blown a perfectly good majority, leaving everything in chaos and Jeremy Corbyn measuring up the curtains. It does happen, you know...”
No, too bolshie. Second rule of sound political discourse: never criticize the PM until you’re sure that she’s about to resign. Anyway, still hours before we land. Perhaps I should sleep on it...
Ah, but to sleep, perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub; for in this mid-flight sleep what dreams may come must give me pause: Michael Fallon lunging, brushing my knee; Michael Gove and Lord Kinnock making jokes about it all on Today; Harriet Harman coming round to offer the solidarity of the sisterhood...
Too horrible. Better to stay awake. O Jerusalem! What if Israel had never even been created? What if the Jews had accepted the Uganda Scheme for a homeland back in 1903? Perhaps then East Africa would have been spared its dictators, my parents would never have fled to Britain and I wouldn’t be getting the sack from this job. Unlike bloody Boris...
And then Heathrow arrives, London calls and another ex-cabinet minister goes not gentle into the good night; smiling penitentially for the cameras, but inwardly raging, raging against the dying of the light.
Looking for another great piece by Richard Nye? You can check out more of observation pieces by clicking here
You can also follow us on Facebook and Twitter for updates on all our latest articles
Sign up to our Weekly Newsletter for exclusive competitions, offers and stories
Looking to advertise your business in Surrey or SW London? Check out our 11 different lifestyle magazines with a combined monthly distribution of over 210,000 AB1 homes
