The Guardian - 08.08.2019

(C. Jardin) #1

Section:GDN 1J PaGe:4 Edition Date:190808 Edition:01 Zone: Sent at 7/8/2019 18:37 cYanmaGentaYellowblac



  • The Guardian Thursday 8 Aug ust 2019


4 Opinion


M


edia obsession with powerful
advisers is not new. The
infl uence of Alastair Campbell
and Peter Mandelson was the
stuff of hysteria in the Tony
Blair years. Bernard Ingham and
Marcia Williams were accused of
having undue power during the
eras of Margaret Thatcher and Harold Wilson.
But how well grounded is this in reality? What we do
know is that those who work in the shadows are catnip
to journalists who know less than they pretend about
the workings of government. This is especially true in
an embittered political era with a taste for conspiracy
theories that seem to off er partisan observers simple
explanations for complicated events.
All of this has suddenly come together in Dominic
Cummings, the new Downing Street prince of darkness ,
whose reputation for malign mastery has quickly
vaulted to levels unmatched even by Campbell and
Mandelson. Last week Cummings reportedly told his
team that parliament could not oust Boris Johnson
before the 31 October Brexit deadline even if he lost
a vote of no confi dence. Yesterday Malcolm Rifk ind
warned that Johnson could lose his head if he did a
Charles I and defi ed the constitution in that way.
When advisers become the story , as Cummings did
this week, they should watch their backs as well as their


Susannah
Thraves
is a TV journalist

heads. This sort of thing breeds resentment. Cummings
already risks appearing – and being – the over-mighty
subject of what is anyway a precarious and sectarian
government. Something similar ended Nick Timothy and
Fiona Hill’s tenure under Theresa May. Over the next few
weeks the narrative of Cummings the magician will be
tested to destruction. The destruction will either be ours
or his, and possibly both.
Yet it would be as much of a mistake to dismiss
Cummings as to exaggerate his mastery. He has certainly
brought two weeks of focus to the Johnson government
by making the Halloween deadline a non-negotiable
centrepiece. He has changed the political conversation
from Brexit or people’s vote to deal or no deal.
But Cummings does not control events. He is not
Prospero, able to conjure up a tempest that delivers his
enemies into his hands. He is also only one player. The
Brexit outcome depends on a tangled web of interests
and infl uences beyond his control. These include
everything from the role of the Queen to the hoarding
of toilet rolls. In particular, it depends on events in the
real economy, in parliament, in the courts, in Northern
Ireland, Scotland and the Irish Republic , in the EU and in
Johnson’s own head.
Those who take a Cummings-fi xated view of the
options fi nd it is easier to forget this. They say the
government’s aim is to crash out with no deal on 31
October and nothing will stand in the way. But that is not
quite what Johnson and some of his ministers say. They
say, still, that a deal is one possibility, perhaps a remote
one, and that the UK government is even now looking for
a deal with the EU in the next 12 weeks.
This is often dismissed as a mere smokescreen
because the deal Johnson wants is not on off er from the
EU. But Johnson’s specifi c demand, though diffi cult for
the EU to concede, is also very particular. He does not
want to reopen every bit of the withdrawal agreement.
He wants the Irish backstop removed from it. The
EU says the backstop – a sensible guarantee that is
supported on both sides of the Irish border – is a non-
negotiable part of the withdrawal agreement. On the face
of it, therefore, there is no possibility of a new deal.

Y


et step back from this confrontation
a moment if you can. Listen to the
talk about talks this week. In London,
Downing Street says it wants to
negotiate. In Brussels, the commission
says it is open to “clarifi cation”. In
Dublin, Leo Varadkar says: “Our
position is that the withdrawal
agreement, including the backstop, is closed but there is
always room for talks and negotiations.” In Belfast, if the
Sunday Times is right, the DUP – yes, the DUP – says it is
prepared to consider a time-limited backstop.
Think too about the economic and political pressures
bearing down again on all the protagonists. In Britain
the pound is sliding, the food industry is worrying
and, according to Bank of England chief Mark Carney,
business faces an “instantaneous shock” and an early
2020 recession. But while Britain will be most aff ected by
no deal – and heavily Tory and Brexit-supporting regions
in England will suff er most of all – others will suff er too.
A survey in March by the Bertelsmann Foundation
concluded that Ireland will be hard hit, as will northern
France, Belgium and parts of the Netherlands.
This is not to say that there will therefore be
a rephrased deal to avert these and other bad
consequences. Varadkar in particular is facing an
election and has less room for manoeuvre as a result. Nor
is it to say that the UK parliament can be relied on to fi nd
a way of stopping no deal, or that the Tory party would
fall into line in suffi cient numbers if a deal were on off er.
It is nevertheless possible that time-limiting the
backstop in some way – fi ve years is mentioned in
some circles – and agreeing to negotiate the issues in
the political declaration in good faith over an agreed
timetable might, just might , make a diff erence. It would
mean Britain leaving the EU. Johnson could claim a
victory. But it could spare a lot of people, businesses,
countries including Britain, and even Johnson himself,
some real pain in the process. That deal might just be
doable even now – whatever Cummings may say.

M


y weekend was spent at the
Edinburgh fringe watching
comedians that I love, while
s itting curled up in my seat
with heat pads stuck to my
skin. This isn’t ideal in summer,
but I needed the heat pressed
against my left side to drown
out the agoni sing pain I often experience. The only way
I can describe it is that it feels like my organs are being
squeezed as tightly as possible.
In February, I learned that my left kidney is
damaged. I have a pelvic ureteric junction obstruction ,
meaning that one kidney doesn’t fi lter properly.
Instead, it fi lls up like a balloon ready to explode inside
me. Unfortunately for me, I’ve (unknowingly) had it
for so long that it has caused the kidney to swell to
the point where it is now badly damaged and needs
surgery. I met my surgeon at the beginning of June and
was put on the NHS surgery waiting list.
I can cope with the physical pain. But I really
struggle to deal with the distress and anxiety of being
on what seems like a never-ending waiting list. The
maximum wait for my surgery is supposed to be 18
weeks. To even get to this point has involved months
of waiting for scans and appointments. Last month’s
fi gures show a record high of 4.4 million people are
now waiting for routine surgery, and I no longer have
faith I will be treated within the target time.
The mental anguish during the wait for surgery
is something I had never expected to feel. It’s hard
enough fi nding out there is something wrong with
your body, but learning that you have to wait for an
unknown amount of time to get it fi xed is unbearable.
I’ve found myself on edge with anxiety, enduring
many sleepless nights. The link between our physical
and mental health becomes all the more potent
when awaiting surgery. Pain, severe fatigue and a life
interrupted by illness create the perfect cocktail for
extreme stress and anxiety.
Our NHS doctors and nurses work tirelessly so that
when you are eventually seen, you are given some of
the world’s best care. But reali sing that they currently
do not have the resources to give you that care is
unsettling. The row over consultants’ pensions – with
senior doctors avoiding working overtime to avoid
hefty tax bills – is making the situation even worse.
Boris Johnson has pledged £1.8bn of extra funding
for NHS hospitals, but experts have argued this isn’t
new money , and it’s reserved for capital projects rather
than staffi ng. At best, there will be a knock-on eff ect,
but this will involve – you guessed it – waiting.
We’ve become so accustomed to seeing lengthening
delays for NHS treatment that it’s easy to forget that
behind those stats are people in pain and distress,
relying on not much more than a hope that they
will one day be given a date for their life-changing
operation.

Susannah


Thraves


Deal or no deal:


it’s not really


up to Dominic


Cummings


My wait for


NHS surgery


has caused


its own pain


Dominic Cummings PHOTOGRAPH: SIMON DAWSON/REUTERS

Martin


Kettle


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