You have to hand it to Jeremy Corbyn. The man sure has a Chumbawamba thick skin. He gets knocked down, he gets up again. Most people would have stayed hidden under the bedclothes, sobbing to their therapist via Skype, after the mauling the Labour leader had received from the chief rabbi and Andrew Neil the day before.
But Corbyn just keeps coming back for more. He’s even happy to let Richard Burgon out on the media round to defend him. The shadow justice minister is quite possibly the stupidest person in Westminster – he makes Liz Truss look like an intellectual colossus – and there is no bad situation he can’t make a whole lot worse. A mitigation plea from Burgon invariably results in a heavier sentence. But Jeremy is OK with that. The more he is vilified, the more he is certain he is in the right.
Even so, the Labour leader did look somewhat battered as he made his way with Barry Gardiner into a meeting room at Church House, flanked by a swarm of photographers who could scarcely believe he was still upright. His eyes appeared bloodshot, as if he’d had little sleep, and he walked more slowly than usual as if each step was a struggle. He didn’t smile and his voice seldom rose above a lifeless whisper. This was Corbyn at his most defensive. Exasperated, reedy and not even bothering to conceal his contempt for most of the media who had turned up for the event.
“We’re going to start with a short film,” he said curtly.
For a moment I thought we might be in for an edited highlights package of his Andrew Neil interview, but even Corbyn wasn’t yet ready for that level of martyrdom. Instead, he showed a clip from the debate in Salford during which Boris Johnson had categorically denied putting any part of the NHS on the table in trade talks with the US after the Labour leader had pulled out some redacted documents he said proved otherwise.
Once the film was over, Corbyn reached into a briefcase and pulled out a large wad of papers. Suddenly everyone in the room perked up. This wasn’t just going to be another off-the-shelf campaign event in which Jeremy did his standard “You can’t trust Boris with the NHS” number. Rather there might actually be a genuine story to be had.
These were the actual minutes of six trade meetings between UK and US officials that had taken place over the last two years, said Corbyn. And what they conclusively showed was that the US wanted to overcharge the NHS with patented drugs, have access to other NHS services and flog us chlorinated chicken, and was pushing hard for a no-deal Brexit. As he concluded his speech, he invited eight NHS doctors dressed in scrubs to hand out copies of the 451-page document to everyone in the room. Or most of them at any rate. It turned out Labour HQ hadn’t printed off quite enough to meet demand.
“Has anyone got any questions?” said Corbyn, still surprisingly listless for what was meant to be the election’s WikiLeaks moment.
They had. Though mostly on antisemitism. Would Corbyn now like to apologise to the chief rabbi as several others in his shadow cabinet now had? He wouldn’t. Presumably because he wasn’t that sorry. He had apologised once a while ago and that was more than enough. A bloke can’t go on apologising for doing bugger all about antisemitism in his party otherwise there would be no time for anything else. Enough was enough. He was opposed to all forms of racism yadda yadda yadda.
“Can you stop having a dig at Jeremy?” Gardiner snapped. Corbyn’s tetchiness was contagious. “Don’t you have anything to ask about the NHS?” Not Bazza’s finest moment. As if antisemitism was only a pretext for getting at Corbyn. Besides, trying to speed read 451 pages in 30 seconds in order to ask an intelligent question was one hell of an ask of any journalist.
A few gave it a go. All the documents seemed to show was what the US wanted out of the negotiations. Where was the smoking gun pointing to UK agreement? Gardiner shrugged. Surely the UK wouldn’t have spent the last two years bothering to talk about something that was definitely off the table? Not the best of answers, as that level of idiocy is all too imaginable given the clueless state of most Tory politicians. After all, Truss is responsible for international trade. Terrifying but true.
The event broke up inconclusively with the Conservatives already issuing denials on Twitter. There were even suggestions that all this information had been available for months online but that no one had bothered to read it. Still, it hadn’t been a total waste of time for Labour. At least no one was now talking about antisemitism. Well, not as much.
Not long afterwards, one of the more depressing opinion polls was published: 30% of people thought Boris was racist, 41% thought he wasn’t and 29% didn’t know; 30% thought Jeremy was antisemitic, 32% thought he wasn’t and 38% didn’t know. Just about the only thing you could conclude from that was that most of those who thought Johnson was racist looked on it as a positive quality. What a choice! What a time to be alive!
John Crace’s new book, Decline and Fail: Read in Case of Political Apocalypse, is published by Guardian Faber. To order a copy go to guardianbookshop.com or call 0330 333 6846. Free UK p&p over £15, online orders only. Phone orders min p&p of £1.99.
