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Dearest Gentle Reader,
This Author confesses to a certain grim relish this Monday morning – for there is nothing quite like the spectacle of the powerful squirming in public to restore one’s faith in the essential comedy of affairs. The month draws near its close, and yet the drama shows not the slightest inclination to follow suit.
The matter consuming Lord Starmer this Monday is, of course, the vetting scandal that simply refuses to be vetted away. Lord Starmer appointed Lord Mandelson as ambassador to the American Colonies in December 2024 – a bold choice, some said; a reckless one, others whispered. Security officials raised red flags about Lord Mandelson in January of last year, and yet Lord Starmer insists he remained entirely, blissfully unaware until just last Tuesday. One must admire the audacity of a man who governs the Kingdom yet claims ignorance with the confidence of a debutante at her first ball. Every opposition leader has called for his resignation, and Lord Starmer has pledged “true transparency” – a phrase which, in the corridors of power, tends to mean “transparency to be delivered at the earliest possible inconvenience.”
This Author turns now to a story far graver in its human weight. The Broadcasting Society’s Panorama programme has spoken with British Jewish citizens who describe a daily existence grown treacherous: spat at in the street, branded with vile slurs, threatened with death – all for the simple fact of being Jewish in the Kingdom. One woman, Amanda, who wore her Star of David pendant openly for decades, now fears it marks her as a target. More British Jews have emigrated to Israel in the past twelve months than in any year since the turn of the century – 742 souls, a figure that ought to shame every corner of society. That a community whose grandparents once fled to this island as a haven should now be quietly mapping their exits is not a scandal requiring wit. It is a reckoning requiring conscience.
On the rather more farcical plane of democratic theatre, the Kingdom stirs itself toward elections on 7th May, when all 129 seats of the Scottish Assembly are contested, the Principality’s Parliament expands dramatically from 60 to a rather ambitious 96 seats, and some 5,000 councillors face the electorate across 136 councils. Gentle Reader, the deadline to register is tonight – 23:59 on 20th April, to be precise – should you have neglected civic duty in favour of more diverting pursuits. First Minister Swinney leads the largest party in North Britain, though one seat short of a majority last time. This Author observes that in politics, as in dancing, being one step short is infinitely more mortifying than not turning up at all.
In a development that will delight academics of a litigious disposition, the government has announced a new free speech complaints system for universities in the Southern Kingdom. Academics may henceforth take their grievances directly to the Office for Students, and from April 2027, universities found to have stifled free expression face fines of up to £500,000 or 2% of their income – which, for the grandest institutions, could run into millions. This Author notes the delicious irony that the most effective way to encourage people to speak freely is apparently to threaten their employers with financial ruin. There is a certain poetry in that. Students, however, shall not benefit from this new mechanism – they must continue along their existing channels. The young, it seems, remain perpetually the last to be consulted on matters concerning their own education.
And finally, in what may be the most tragicomic tale of institutional incompetence this Monday has to offer, the Travelodge Inn in Lincoln handed a key card to a stranger – who duly walked in upon a couple freshly emerged from their showers, suitcase in hand, looking as startled as the occupants themselves. The chain’s management had, only weeks prior, promised improved security following a rather more sinister incident in Maidenhead. That Kyran Smith was jailed for seven and a half years for a related assault makes this episode not merely farcical but deeply troubling. The reception’s response – “accidents happen” – is the sort of phrase that belongs on a tombstone for common sense. This Author recommends, when next seeking overnight accommodation, the additional precaution of a good solid chair wedged beneath the door handle.
I am, as ever, your most devoted observer – Lady Whistledown.