It has to be Kemi
Lord Fat Nonce
Sir,
We are delighted in our official capacity, and delighted in our unofficial capacity, as former Independent Chief of the Independent Government Advice on ‘the Good’, to endorse the #Renewal2030 hashtag campaign for Kemi Badenoch as Leader of Her Majesty’s Conservative Party.
This is because Kemi Badenoch is ‘Good’.
By this our independent advice must be clearly understood to say that Kemi Badenoch appears to meet all the independent guidelines of what ‘Good’ is, contained very clearly in our advice, of what ‘Goodness’ is. It is a reasonable conclusion of the impartial but informed bystander that, as Kemi Badenoch appears to be good within the definition thereof contained in the guidelines therein, Kemi Badenoch most likely is ‘Good’ as well.
This endorsement has been precipitated by a great deal of thoughtful, and indeed, compassionate reflection by all relevant authorities, namely myself. When I was asked the first time, I refused to endorse all five candidates. When I was asked the second time, I refused to endorse all four candidates. When I was asked the third time, I refused to endorse the three candidates remaining. And when I was asked yesterday (which was the fourth time my counsel had been sought on this matter), I was delighted in my official capacity to announce that I shall, actually, be voting for Kemi. As you can see, the very highest standards of impartiality reflected in a broad consensus of British public life are manifest in the judgement of both myself, and also, those less important people than me.
Kemi just has that *oomph* about her. That jazz. The electric tingle, the very same sensation I get at the mention of the word “mentoring scheme”.
‘Fixing things’, ‘having policies’. It is our considered judgement that these things are, at best, irrelevant distractions from the business of Opposition. I spoke to one of my young friends the other day, Sir Charles Moore, and he agreed. “Tory Boy, she ain’t” Sir Charles told me, he may have told me something else as well, but the word “boy” has the effect of diverting one’s attention to a zealous survey of the confines of the Traveller’s Club.
Another young friend, Sir Simon Heffer, had the following to say: “It's time we had a woman in charge.”
Thick as paint in a tight spot, Sir Simon but with a brain as sharp as whistle.
I think it is time, in the 21st century, for women to take charge of everything. Absolutely everything. We chaps have made such a hash of things, we may as well give it a go.
There’s only one place for men, especially young men, in Public life today. Stark naked. Strolling along the hot sands of Morocco, or posing amidst Doric ruins; girding themselves on the sun-hallowed, perennial stone of Burmese temples. All colours and races, lightly whipping each other with sticks of bamboo, driven to the pious ecstasies described by Lawrence among the esurient Bedouin; and all, carefully supervised, by gentlemen of mature years, with decades, if not centuries, of experience in public life, watching from some discrete veranda with air conditioning, an endless succession of Mentoring schemes.
The woman should just get on with it. Like “Mrs” Thatcher got on with it. Especially when the whips office stirred up some puritanical hoo-hah about the goings on of some young friend like Sir Cyril Smith or Sir Harvey Procter with his boon companions. No, no, no she said. That is why I say “Yes, yes, yes” to Kemi.
Perhaps the youngest and most pungent of my young friends is Sir Anthony Powell, this is because he is in fact dead, with decades of experience in that valued role. An English gentleman of the old school, it was vital to get his opinion from the Ouija board + a goat + several young friends with not a War Studies course between them, but plenty of zest for Networking to make up for it.
“Sir Anthony…” I declaimed, in a stentorian voice. “Sir Anthony Pole. Kemi is in the front-running for leader of the Oldest Political Party in the World.”
“...”
“She has been endorsed by Camilla Tominey.”
It would, of course, be of the highest interest to a man of Mr. Powell’s culture to learn that Mrs Tominey had thrown her weight behind Team Kemi; and I’m delighted to say our seance ended in a productive manner. With fun for all involved. Our Party, as Burke had it, is a Democracy of the living and the dead.
When I reflect on the breadth of experience, and, indeed, my experience of breadth, I have had in public life; of the personalities I have known, practically all of them would be casting their votes for Kemi.
I vaguely recall that the late Norman Douglas said something to the effect, encinctured by the palms of a young friend on the island of Capri which he was proud to call his home, that it was “time for a British Obama.”
Norman died before his time, that is to say, before the outbreak of World War Two. But I am told he is just as relevant today as ever, according to no less than authority then that modish rocker, A.N Wilson.
Of course there will always be some firebrands trying to stir up mutiny in the troops. Young Turks without the buggery. Your Salman Rushdies and Martin Amises. One hopes that a lesson they shall learn with appropriate age, indeed, their departure from the mortal realm, is that, while they might understand Roller-Skating and CD-Rom, they don’t understand the Conservative Party.
I came across one of their number the other day, while dining with Peter Hitchens (Peter has yet to wrestle a title from the aerium of life’s gifts). Of course, ‘dining’, here, is more a phatic expression than a verb. Trying to drag Peter, from the odious embrace of ‘his table’ at Zizis Pizza Restaurant, towards Soho House, has been but one of several martyrdoms inflicted on me, since I commenced the project of taking this sprightly Pompeian under my wing, with mixed results.
Peter had just finished a lengthy disquisition on the merits of Kate Winslet as a “mature” actress, possibly with a view to the upcoming Letby biopic. I felt that now was the time to make an essay of culture, to invite him into the world of Wilde, Saki and Father Rolfe; from there — a holiday of the Aegean.
But Peter spoke first, in that deep, Old Testament rumble of his, “Celine Buckens in Showtrial. A deeply accomplished performance…”
What Peter does not understand, what they all fail to understand, in their youth, is that The Conservative and Unionist Party is not about ‘erasing the legacy of Tony Blair from history’. The Conservative, or ‘Tory’, Party is about principles. Right and Wrong.
As Sir Max Hastings put to me the other day, while sitting, quite snugly I might add, in the Topsy-Turvy World ball pool:
“We’ve got to put a line under the ‘have your cake and eat it’-era. Show what we’re about.’
Sir Max has the good fortune to be in agreement with Me. Even though I am much more important than he is.
It is time to pick between top and bottom, carrot or stick, slap or tickle. You cannot have both. From now on, it is either Slap, or Tickle; one thing, or the other. No palming me off with some nonsense about how you ‘need to get home’ and then pretending to have a girlfriend.
That’s why I’m voting Kemi.