Sketch: Balls and Osborne’s predictable battery
Balls’ first Commons exchange with Osborne saw him attack the chancellor’s skiing trips. But Osborne’s shadow has the same sense of entitlement as his prey.
By Ian Dunt
Put them together, and you have a fairly good idea of what’s going to happen. It’s hard to think of two more predictable political personalities than Ed Balls and George Osborne. No-one was expecting them to dance around each other. These two are just going to batter away, eyes closed, fists slapping forward in a whirl of angry motion, hoping to land a couple.
Of the two, Osborne probably landed the better blows, although most people watching were of the same persuasion when they left as they were when they entered. Namely, that Balls will have him. It’s just a matter of time.
The former right-hand-man to Gordon Brown is almost a parody of himself. He sat on the green benches with as much entitlement carved on his face as Osborne ever had. He appears always on the verge of violence, a rare interplay of conflict and warmth constantly shimmering on his lips, as if he is about to smile, and then stab you in the groin. He mutters to himself constantly.
“It is an honour and a great responsibility to shadow the chancellor of the exchequer,” he began, lying instantly. “I seem to have inherited an unprecedentedly large number of breakfast bulletins from my predecessor. Good job we didn’t have one today or I would have missed this morning’s rather hurried mini budget.” Ball regularly implied that Osborne was forced into announcing the permanent levy on the banks out of his fear of this meeting with his new shadow. A couple of people in the lobby have been wondering the same thing. Probably wishful thinking.
Tory backbenchers exhibited considerably more nervousness at Balls’ presence than the chancellor did. Several of them were screaming at the Labour man from the moment he rose, with one female MP in particular barely in control of herself. Any attack from the shadow chancellor was met with the customary handbag chant of “oooh”. But the attacks were far too understated to merit such a reaction and it ended up revealing their anxiety more than it countered the opposition.
Osborne was magnificently confident. “First of all, can I welcome him to his post?” the chancellor began. “Now he and the leader of the opposition know what it’s like to be people’s second choice.” Osborne was witty and well-poised throughout, but he cannot mask his glee. He enjoys the pomp and party politics too much. He is hugely affected by his surroundings and yet he exhibits a sort of sneering disinterest in his environment. He has a uniquely unfortunate lack of charisma. He is Gordon Brown to David Cameron’s Tony Blair, but without the patent hatred for his business partner.
“He is a man with a past,” Osborne mentioned, ominously. “We have had to deal with his economic legacy.” Balls was quick to make good use of the skiing trip Osborne had managed to secure last month with his family, despite the political attacks he knew it would trigger. Maybe he thought it would be least painful now, in the first year of government. “Perhaps the chancellor should have spent less time on the ski slopes of Switzerland and more time in the conference halls of Davos,” Balls shouted.
So there you have it. Revelation. Osborne doesn’t like Balls’ economic record. Balls doesn’t like Osborne swanning off to Switzerland while the economy goes magnificently down the toilet.
Those two questions were Balls’ lot and his frontbench team quickly used up their remaining allocation, leaving us nothing for topical questions. Instead, Balls simply gazed forward, oblivious to those around him, as Osborne responded to other inquiries. As the chancellor spoke, Balls sat back on his bench, that nasty smile playing on his lips, shaking his head, speaking calm abuse, full of disdain.
It’s not the entitlement of Eton or the Bullingdon Club. It’s the plain, unfussy entitlement of his own sense of intellectual superiority. No amount of skiing trips can overcome it. They’re as predictable and dogged as each other, Balls and Osborne. We’ll be lucky if either of them get out of it alive.
