This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at https://www.theguardian.com/politics/2016/jul/18/trident-is-no-deterrent-to-labour-self-destructing

The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
Trident is no deterrent to Labour self-destructing Trident is no deterrent to Labour self-destructing
(about 3 hours later)
It had always been lined up as David Cameron’s treat. A chance, after an unpleasantly divisive referendum campaign, to feel a bit of backbench Tory love by dancing over the unhappy, rotting corpse of the Labour party. Events rather put paid to that and it was Theresa May who got the strokes. But Dave had the date in his diary and he was damned if he was going to miss it. So shortly before the debate on the renewal of Trident began, Dave took his seat on the backbenches. One or two Tory MPs even made a point of recognising him. Most ignored him. You find out who your real friends are when you’re on the way down. The numbers were always going to be beside the point, and few raised an eyebrow at the government majority of 355. The Trident vote had always been lined up as David Cameron’s treat: a chance, after an unpleasantly divisive referendum campaign, to feel a bit of backbench Tory love by dancing over the unhappy, rotting corpse of the Labour party. Events rather put paid to that, and it was Theresa May who got the strokes. But Dave had the date in his diary, and he was damned if he was going to miss this. So shortly before the debate on the renewal of Trident began, Dave took his seat on the backbenches. One or two Tory MPs even made a point of recognising him. Most ignored him. You find out who your real friends are when you’re on the way down.
With the government scrabbling around for something resembling a plan for how to go about planning Brexit not to mention a failed coup in Turkey you’d have thought it might have had enough on its hands. But the House of Commons can always make time for a little pettiness. This was a debate about nuclear weapons in name only as the go-ahead to renew Trident had been passed in 2009; its real purpose was to highlight the divisions on nuclear weapons within Labour. With the government scrabbling around for something resembling a plan for Brexit, you’d have thought it might have had enough on its hands without going through the motions of an unnecessary debate. But the House of Commons can always make time for a little pettiness. This was a debate about nuclear weapons in name only, as the go-ahead to renew Trident had been passed in 2009; its real purpose was to highlight the divisions on nuclear weapons within the Labour party.
May got the ball rolling with a barely serviceable advocacy of nuclear weapons. “Nukes are good, and even if I really don’t have a clue how much they are going to cost, they are still a bargain” was about the extent of her argument. She looked knackered: four days in Downing Street is the equivalent to four weeks out of it. But Theresa wasn’t there to be the star turn. She was there to be interrupted. And when the interventions came, she was only too pleased to take a breather.
Related: Jeremy Corbyn opposes Trident renewal in Commons debate – liveRelated: Jeremy Corbyn opposes Trident renewal in Commons debate – live
May got the ball rolling with a barely serviceable advocacy of nuclear weapons. Nukes were good and even if she really didn’t have a clue how much they were going to cost they were still a bargain was about the extent of her argument. She looked knackered: four days in Downing Street is the equivalent to four weeks out of it. But Theresa wasn’t there to be the star turn. She was there to be interrupted. And when the interventions came she was only too pleased to take a breather. “Whatever you may hear from the opposition front bench,” said Labour’s John Woodcock, “it is Labour party policy to maintain a nuclear deterrent.” May thanked him and a hint of a smile crossed her face. It was like taking candy from a playground full of five-year-olds.
“Whatever you may hear from the opposition frontbench,” said Labour’s John Woodcock, “it is Labour party policy to maintain a nuclear deterrent.” The only time May came off autopilot was when the SNP’s George Kerevan asked her if she would be happy to launch a nuclear strike and annihilate a million innocent civilians. “Hell, yeah,” she screamed, with rather too much enthusiasm. Hopefully we can put that down more to the excitement of her having just been given the codes “Oh go on, just a little one. No one will notice” than see it as a sign of things to come.
May thanked him and read out the exact line from last year’s Labour conference at which the commitment was made. A hint of a smile crossed her face. It was like taking candy from a playground full of five-year-olds. Labour’s Pat McFadden and Madeleine Moon made much the same points and Theresa indulged them fully. Then came Jeremy Corbyn. You can only admire the way in which he is turning the Labour party into a piece of dadaist performance art. However sincerely his views on nuclear weapons are held, there are few things more absurd in Westminster than a party leader who openly speaks against his own party policy. For a man who actively appeals to party loyalty in the defence of his leadership, Corbyn manages to make up his own rules as he goes along.
The only time May came off autopilot was when the SNP’s George Kerevan asked her if she would be happy to launch a nuclear strike and annihilate one million innocent civilians. “Hell, yeah,” she screamed, with rather too much enthusiasm. Hopefully we can put that down more to the excitement of her having only recently been given access to the codes “Oh go on, just a little one. No one will notice” rather than a sign of things to come. This hadn’t escaped Labour’s Angela Smith, who wondered why the Commons wasn’t hearing Labour party policy from the opposition frontbench. Corbyn was quick with an answer. “Party policy is also to review our policy,” he declared with a confidence that suggested he hadn’t actually thought through the implications of what he had said. If the overriding policy of the Labour party is that any policy is up for grabs, then it doesn’t actually have a policy on anything – just a vague wish list that can be updated hourly.
Then came Jeremy Corbyn. You can only admire the way in which he is turning the Labour party into a piece of Dadaist performance art. However sincerely his views on nuclear weapons are held, there are few things more absurd in Westminster than a party leader who openly speaks against his own party policy. For a man who actively appeals to party loyalty in the defence of his leadership, Corbyn manages to make up his own rules as he goes along. With the surreal made real, it was no surprise that the Ionesco farce spread through the fourth curtain on to the Labour frontbench. Diane Abbott hammered away on her mobile, rubbishing any Labour MP who dared to support Labour party policy on Twitter. Clive Lewis, the shadow defence secretary, just fidgeted uncomfortably before summing up.
This hadn’t escaped Labour’s Angela Smith who wondered why the Commons wasn’t hearing Labour party policy from the opposition frontbench. Corbyn was quick with an answer. “Party policy is also to review our policy,” he declared with a confidence that suggested he hadn’t actually thought through the implications of what he had said. If the over-riding policy of the Labour party is that any policy is up for grabs then it doesn’t actually have a policy on anything. Just a vague wish list that can be updated hourly. As well he might. Faced with choosing between two principled arguments on either side, he’d chosen a third option, of not making up his mind. He and Emily Thornberry, Labour’s shadow foreign secretary, sat out the vote, neither with their leader nor with their party. Just when you think the Labour party couldn’t get any more divided, it finds ways to subdivide still further. It is now the retrovirus of British politics. It is also in urgent need of a deterrent against itself.
With the surreal made real, it was no surprise that the Ionesco farce spread through the fourth curtain on to the Labour frontbench. Diane Abbott hammered away on her mobile, rubbishing any Labour MP who dared to support Labour party policy on Twitter. Emily Thornberry, shadow foreign secretary, and Clive Lewis, shadow defence secretary, just fidgeted uncomfortably. Both were planning to up the ante still further, by diverging from their leader and party policy by abstaining in the vote. Just when you think the Labour party can’t get any more divided it finds ways to sub-divide still further. It is now the retro-virus of British politics. It is also in urgent need of a deterrent against itself.