King’s Speech 2023: Parliament puts on its best white gloves and hats

The view from the stalls at the State Opening was a comic opera of ermine and frocks, of dashing diplomats and fat sheikhs – and a fellow in a fez who had probably left his camel on a meter at Piccadilly Circus. Parliament is at its best when the King comes to tea. The ladies dust off their tiaras; the policemen put on gloves.

As His Majesty set off from Buckingham Palace in his golden coach, wisely avoiding delays on the Jubilee Line, Lefties grumbled that they’d prefer to see a slimmed-down ceremony in these impoverished times (perhaps the King, minus his head?) But nothing could contain the excitement of the Baroness of Aghadrumsee (AKA Arlene Foster) who took a cheeky selfie from the red benches with several stars of GBNews.

Do you know, I spotted no less than three Telegraph columnists on those plump cushions? It makes one wonder: what’s a girl got to do to get a peerage? I suppose one could start by writing a rave review of the King’s Speech…

This beautiful event is a celebration of accessories, for we are a free people, ruled by hats. The Crown arrived in its own carriage; two gentlemen marched solemnly into the chamber carrying the cap of maintenance and the sword of state – the latter watched hungrily by Penny Mordaunt, like a cat with its eyes on a bird. Oh, how she wanted to grab it and wave it about shouting “I am the Queen of wands!” But no, Penny! This is not your show! It belongs to His Majesty and his good lady wife, who sat in self-possessed silence, their robes laid gently down the throne steps, like a purple waterfall.

The Lord Chancellor presented the King with a Xerox of the speech, and exited backwards – leaving Charles III to perform the onerous task of reading Rishi Sunak’s words.

It was akin to forcing Laurence Olivier to recite the Argos catalogue, wasting the King’s time and talent on empty buzzwords and such tiny fry as banning ciggies or a war on rogue pedicabs (how wicked to make a King Charles sound like a Puritan). Apart from legislating tougher sentences for sex crimes – which I fear many MPs will come to regret – this was a conservative King’s Speech only in the sense that the Government has committed itself to doing as little as possible, and at one point His Majesty almost rifled through the pages as if to see how much more of this nonsense there was to go.

Then, a moment of magic. “I pray the blessing of Almighty God might rest upon your counsel,” said the Sovereign, reminding us that he is where he is by divine grace. Whereas Rishi is there because Boris is a bounder and Truss can’t count.

Three hours later, after a big lunch, Siobhan Baillie MP told the Commons that Sunak is “the hardest working prime minister I’ve ever known – and I’ve known quite a few recently”. The MPs roared with laughter. Theresa May did not.

Funny speeches

As per custom, the new parliamentary session opens with funny speeches delivered by one MP on the way out (Robert Goodwill) and one on the way up – Baillie, who knocked us sideways by introducing herself as a working-class girl who left school at 16 (always dressed fashionably beneath a mountain of blonde hair, I had her down as a relative of Lady Penelope). 

“The King,” she said, “is following in his mother’s footsteps”, which is exactly the point of monarchy. The purpose of democracy, meanwhile, is to entertain, and Goodwill revealed that he once canvassed a council estate where a woman of the soil informed him that Boris was “one of us”.

“But he went to Eton,” protested Goodwill. “You don’t understand,” she replied, “he had a row with his wife and the police came round. That’s what happens on this street all the time.”

Keir Starmer followed with a speech that misread the room, lost it, and caused several Tories to leave noisily. I am told he’s been receiving voice coaching. Who from? Neil Kinnock? But this was wind-baggery without even Kinnock’s wind, just a scrap of tumbleweed rolling across the Despatch Boxes as Sir K spelt out the miseries of 13 years of Toryism in an oration that felt like it lasted 20.

The PM’s effort was better for being interrupted by Chris Bryant, who asked Sunak if he agreed with the Home Secretary’s words that being homeless is a “lifestyle choice”? We know the answer isn’t yes because it doesn’t come with a flag, but the PM dodged that one with some stats on rough sleeping, just as eyelids were growing heavy.

A couple of Labour members walked out. Tit for tat. Once the PM wrapped up, Stephen Flynn rose to speak for the SNP and half the Commons rushed to the bar. “Was it something I said?” asked Flynn. No. No. They were simply exhausted by a day of pomp and circumlocution.