I wish I could do a Welsh accent, but I can’t
I found myself earlier today trying to explain away the fact to an infuriated Welsh farmer that I hadn’t turned up to a pre-booked car park space on his farm. He seemed just a bit too unreasonably angry in relation to my slight offence, so eventually I asked him how else his day was going, and soothed him towards the knowledge that I would be back down there soon enough, and he could trouser my soft, southern tenner after all.
‘I should never have watched the news last night,’ he said with great honesty, describing our nations legislators, all of them, with a one-size-fits-all word that rhymed with the thing you use to stop your boat moving out at sea. ‘The stupid bastards don’t realise that we couldn’t give a toss about their constitutional games. We just want it over. Done. And you can throw the clever bastards in Brussels into the mix. And Dublin. There. I’ve had my say.’ We chatted a little more, and we parted as the very best of friends.
So, on behalf of him and me, here is our manifesto, offered to our 650 legislators in a spirit of soft focus loveliness:
We want an end to all this. You went into politics to sort this kind of stuff out. Just sort it, whichever side you are on.
We have lost count of the number of tosses (and you know I wanted to use a worse word than that) we don’t give about the well-being of your political parties. Any of them. You let the extreme activists take them over, and now you do what you do just to please the unpleasable. How about trying please the silent majority for a change?
We’re not as thick as you think we are, and we understand absolutely what is going on. Like he said, you’re playing constitutional games.
The colour grey exists, you know. Just saying. Not black, not white, but that lovely, warm, consensual, boring colour in between, the one John Major was criticized for being.
Just because someone is wrong doesn’t mean the opposite is right. Just like disagreeing with someone doesn’t of itself constitute a workable plan.
You should all stop reacting to threats, whoever is making them. Listen to the still, small voice of calm. Go and re-read Desiderata, and then stick it up in your bathroom. Stick it anywhere you like, for that matter, but read it.
Learn to negotiate. No, really. All that boring stuff like establishing the gap, and working towards a deal, it actually works.
Embrace the fine art of trying to be nice, to see the best in each other’s arguments, no matter your starting point. When interviewed, try and say something positive about your opponent’s motives. Just remember that most of you went into politics to make the world a better place. You still can.
Respect each other, even if you disagree. In fact, go back to nursery school and learn how to listen. And not to shout over the top of others.
Moderate your language. It’s not about who’s got the biggest roar in the jungle. ‘Treason’ and ‘traitor’ and ‘betrayal’ are words that need to be used very sparingly, and not just about someone who disagrees with you. It’s all about who has got the courage and resilience to make an achievable plan, build a consensus around it, and eventually prevail.
Revenge is a dish best not served at all in political life. It has too many bastard children. Maybe it looks good for 18 nano-seconds, but not afterwards.
Many of you are being honest and dignified, whatever your stance. For our part, know that we have noticed. For your part, make it count.
Stop tweeting. Just promise never to do a clever little 140 character self-serving piece of twattery ever again. Or any of those off-the-cuff interviews that you think make you look good, and your opponent bad.
Remember David Cameron’s austerity-selling phrase ‘we’re all in this together’. Obviously, he didn’t mean it, but you can. Because this time we are.
Thank you for putting your head above the parapet. And, quite genuinely, good luck. A small handful of you are going to make your names on this, in a good way.
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