Be thankful for small mercies. If it was up to Priti Patel, the UK would already be at war with Iran. In a former life as international development secretary, Priti got herself fired for freelancing foreign policy on Israel. Now, as shadow foreign secretary, she’s at it again. Old habits die hard.
Out and about on the morning media round, Priti was volunteering to personally fly the US stealth bombers deep into Iran. To ride the Massive Ordnance Penetrator – the Americans are nothing if not relentlessly macho – bombs deep into the nuclear facility at Fordow. Her very own last-chance power drive.
In her defence, you have to remember Priti Vacant has no memory of what happened yesterday, let alone 22 years ago. If she did, she might be aware of what can happen when a UK government tries to hedge its bets on legal advice before going to war in the Middle East. That didn’t work out so well for anyone. Arguably, we’re all still paying the price of that George Bush–Tony Blair joint venture.
Likewise, she has no insight into likely outcomes in the future. She has less imagination than a tardigrade. She is only capable of living entirely in the present. And a very limited present at that. Unaware that you can’t bomb knowledge. Unaware that even if the bunker-busting bombs did penetrate 80 metres of reinforced concrete and rock, the destruction would only make Iran more likely to develop a nuclear capability in the future.
So it’s probably just as well for all of us that we’ve got someone like Keir Starmer as prime minister. A man whose natural instincts are set towards diplomacy and de-escalation. A lawyer who is likely to take the advice of Richard Hermer, the attorney general, seriously. Who understands that extending a war between Israel and Iran to one that includes the US and the UK is in no one’s best interests. No easy task when you’re dealing with a US president who seems to think he is starring in his own first-person shooter video game. Donald Trump and Priti Vacant have a disturbing amount in common.
It’s customary for the prime minister to update the Commons on the meeting of the G7 – or in this case, the G6 and a half – as soon as possible after returning home. But this Thursday, Keir thought better of it. Had decided he had better things to do than face awkward questions from MPs of all parties on just how close the UK was to getting dragged into another war, and whether we intended to let the Americans use Diego Garcia as a base from which to bomb Iran. To avoid being asked what The Donald might do next. As if anyone had any idea. Even Trump doesn’t know what Trump will do next.
So in the absence of a statement from the prime minister, we got one from chief secretary to the Treasury, Darren Jones, on the government’s 10-year infrastructure strategy. This felt like a rare outbreak of optimism. A cause for national celebration. At a time when many of us can’t be sure we’ll still be alive this time next week with the west on the brink of yet another war, we had Darren to hold our hands. Everything was going to be OK. Even if the world was to turn to rubble, Labour had a plan to put things back together. We might not be around to see it, but everything would be OK eventually.
On a practical level, this did have an air of hope over experience. After all, when was the last time the UK completed an infrastructure project on time and on budget? Only on Wednesday the transport secretary, Heidi Alexander, had given yet another update on the fiasco that is HS2. A rail line that is already billions of pounds over budget, does nothing to increase connectivity to the north and won’t be ready until 10 years time at the earliest. The French managed to complete a high-speed railway the same length as HS2 in five years. We are still building tunnels through former Conservative constituencies. HS2 is this country’s own Ionesco study of the absurd.
Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained and Darren was eager to share his Brave New World with us. And here was the thing. The 10 years had already started. Things were already far, far better than they had been. To be fair, they were for Dazza. No one enjoys being in government more than Darren. He’s been walking around with a rictus permagrin since last July. This is his time. If only we could all be a bit more like Dazza, the better it would be.
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Darren opened our eyes to £725m of new infrastructure spending. What glories! Treasures the like of which had not been seen since Howard Carter opened Tutankhamun’s tomb. Hospitals, prisons, schools. Railways. Lucky Wales was to get £445m, the same amount as was being given to refurbish Leeds station.
All would be rebuilt in Dazza’s own image. And they really would be built. This wasn’t a 10-year plan like so many other 10-year plans that barely survive contact with reality. This was to be a 10-year plan that would last for 100 years. Permanent secretaries might feel like temporary secretaries. Minister may come and go. Governments could fall. But the 10-year plan would remain. As would Darren. Because there would be a new quango. The National Infrastructure and Service Transformational Authority had been born to save us all.
There was little argument from the Conservative’s Richard Fuller about any of this. Then there was hardly like to be. He didn’t want to suggest this was all a pipe dream by drawing attention to the fact that the Tories had achieved next to nothing in 14 years. So he just asked which of the projects that the Tories had failed to deliver were being scrapped by Labour.
Dazza had no idea. Everything was going to be great. There would be a new level of skills and coordination that didn’t currently exist. “I’m confident in my abilities,” he smirked. That goes down as one of life’s understatements. Darren has yet to find something he doesn’t do better than anyone else. We might have to hold our breath to see what The Donald did next, but Darren was there to reassure us that the future belonged to him.
