A Fair United Kingdom. It could have been worse. It could have been A Fair United Conservative Kingdom, but it is a safe bet that the Afuk poster that acted as a backdrop to William Hague’s speech on English votes for English laws (Evel) will not be seen again.
Nor, for that matter, will we be seeing much more of the leader of the house as Hague is standing down from parliament at the next election.
He looks like a man who cannot wait. Hague has been party leader, foreign secretary and fashion accessory to Angelina Jolie. The last thing he had in mind was to end his political career by getting bogged down in drafting proposals for a problem that no one in his own party agrees upon and that are unlikely to even be properly considered before he has gone.
Hague strode briskly into the room, apparently intent on getting the whole thing over with as quickly as possible. “Good morning ladies and gentlemen – thank you for joining me today. For 20 years the question of English votes for English laws had been … ” His eyes glanced down as it dawned on him that some idiot of a special adviser had accidentally printed out his A-level dissertation and that he would not be free till well after lunch if he did not get a bend on.
To save time, Hague tried keeping his mouth closed: “Inthebackgroundofthedebateaboutthefutureofourcountry … ” Seldom had his monotone been so monotonous. “There is a very quiet revolution going on,” he assured us 10 minutes later.
So quiet that everyone had missed it. “People in England want their say. English votes for English laws.” He paused, remembering he was married to a Welsh woman. “Or English and Welsh votes for English and Welsh laws. Ewvewl.”
Though that might just have been him clearing his throat. He tried again. Weevil. He nodded. Weevil was much better.
Weevil was not about party political advantage, he insisted. It was about fairness. Or rather the unfairness of Ed Miliband and Nicola Sturgeon being able to come to some deal to push the Tories on to the opposition benches next May.
It was true to say, he acknowledged, that he could not say exactly what would constitute a Weevil but he was confident that such Weevils did exist and where and when they were spotted the Tories would reluctantly sacrifice the support of their one Scottish MP if Labour was to forego their 40 MPs.
“To clarify things,” he concluded. “Scottish MPs will be able to vote on Weevils; it’s just that their votes won’t count.” Or something.
Having successfully muddied the waters in the interests of clarity, Hague took questions from the few remaining people in the room who were still awake. Or alive.
Wasn’t it the case that no one much likes these proposals and they have all been a bit rushed? Hague looked aghast. How could anyone think that? He had been worrying about little else but Weevils for 16 days. Weeks. He meant years. Definitely years.
And would these proposals be a red line in any coalition agreement? For the first time, Hague gave a genuine smile. “I’m not going to be involved in that,” he said, punching the air in relief. He checked his watch.
Lunch called and he did not want to keep Angelina waiting. Not before his script for Tomb Raider 3: the Forces of Weevils had got the green light.
Meanwhile, on the Tory backbenches a new party was formed. A Fair United Kingdom Unionist party.
