Cameron is the biggest political loser of the Olympics

Booed by the crowds and overshadowed by Boris, the PM has not had a good Games.

It's not hard to identify the political winners of the Olympics. Boris Johnson, who never missed an opportunity to make a populist intervention, and whose named was chanted by thousands during that extraordinary speech in Hyde Park, is now spoken of as a potential prime minister by both the left and the right, and is increasingly viewed as a threat by Labour.

Beginning with the Queen's skit with James Bond (the highlight of the Olympics ceremony for voters, according to polling by YouGov), the royal family has seemed more at ease with itself than for decades. The BBC's coverage has reminded us of the virtues of public broadcasting, whilst the armed forces, filling the void left by G4S, have renewed their bond with the public.

But who are the losers? Tory MP Aidan Burley's curt dismissal of Danny Boyle's ceremony as "leftie multi-cultural crap" did little for his career prospects, and with a slim-ish majority of 3,195 in Cannock Chase, a seat that Labour held from 1997-2010, he is unlikely to be returned at the next election. Mitt Romney's suggestion that the UK was unprepared for the Olympics, inaccurate as it turned out, damaged his reputation at home and abroad, with Boris openly mocking a supposed ideological ally ("There's a guy called Mitt Romney who wants to know whether we're ready"), David Cameron quipping that it's easy to run an Olympics in "the middle of nowhere" (a reference to Romney's management of the 2002 Salt Lake City Winter Games), and Carl Lewis concluding that "some Americans just shouldn't leave the country".

The biggest loser, however, is the current occupant of 10 Downing Street. Rather than enhancing Cameron's reputation, as some Tories hoped, the Olympics have diminished it. The cringemaking photo posted by the No 10 Twitter feed of the PM watching the boxing at home while wearing a Team GB polo shirt looked like what it was: a desperate final attempt to reap some political benefit from the Games. Rather than serving as the proud leader of a successful nation, Cameron has spent more time fending off criticism of the government's school sports policies and dismissing fears that the Olympics have reduced economic activity. As Prime Minister and the leader of a party that won just 36 per cent of the vote at the last election, Cameron was never likely to survive the Games unscathed. But what makes the negative press coverage even more galling is the adoration for the prince across the Thames - Boris. While the crowds cheer for Boris, they boo for Cameron. For the first time since he became Prime Minister, conservative commentators are asking how long he can continue. After two weeks in which Britain has rarely seemed happier, few could have imagined a less happy end to the Games for Cameron.

David Cameron watches the boxing: "a desperate final attempt to reap some political benefit from the Games".

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Photo: André Spicer
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“It’s scary to do it again”: the five-year-old fined £150 for running a lemonade stand

Enforcement officers penalised a child selling home-made lemonade in the street. Her father tells the full story. 

It was a lively Saturday afternoon in east London’s Mile End. Groups of people streamed through residential streets on their way to a music festival in the local park; booming bass could be heard from the surrounding houses.

One five-year-old girl who lived in the area had an idea. She had been to her school’s summer fête recently and looked longingly at the stalls. She loved the idea of setting up her own stall, and today was a good day for it.

“She eventually came round to the idea of selling lemonade,” her father André Spicer tells me. So he and his daughter went to their local shop to buy some lemons. They mixed a few jugs of lemonade, the girl made a fetching A4 sign with some lemons drawn on it – 50p for a small cup, £1 for a large – and they carried a table from home to the end of their road. 

“People suddenly started coming up and buying stuff, pretty quickly, and they were very happy,” Spicer recalls. “People looked overjoyed at this cute little girl on the side of the road – community feel and all that sort of stuff.”

But the heart-warming scene was soon interrupted. After about half an hour of what Spicer describes as “brisk” trade – his daughter’s recipe secret was some mint and a little bit of cucumber, for a “bit of a British touch” – four enforcement officers came striding up to the stand.

Three were in uniform, and one was in plain clothes. One uniformed officer turned the camera on his vest on, and began reciting a legal script at the weeping five-year-old.

“You’re trading without a licence, pursuant to x, y, z act and blah dah dah dah, really going through a script,” Spicer tells me, saying they showed no compassion for his daughter. “This is my job, I’m doing it and that’s it, basically.”

The girl burst into tears the moment they arrived.

“Officials have some degree of intimidation. I’m a grown adult, so I wasn’t super intimidated, but I was a bit shocked,” says Spicer. “But my daughter was intimidated. She started crying straight away.”

As they continued to recite their legalese, her father picked her up to try to comfort her – but that didn’t stop the officers giving her stall a £150 fine and handing them a penalty notice. “TRADING WITHOUT LICENCE,” it screamed.


Picture: André Spicer

“She was crying and repeating, ‘I’ve done a bad thing’,” says Spicer. “As we walked home, I had to try and convince her that it wasn’t her, it wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t her who had done something bad.”

She cried all the way home, and it wasn’t until she watched her favourite film, Brave, that she calmed down. It was then that Spicer suggested next time they would “do it all correctly”, get a permit, and set up another stand.

“No, I don’t want to, it’s a bit scary to do it again,” she replied. Her father hopes that “she’ll be able to get over it”, and that her enterprising spirit will return.

The Council has since apologised and cancelled the fine, and called on its officials to “show common sense and to use their powers sensibly”.

But Spicer felt “there’s a bigger principle here”, and wrote a piece for the Telegraph arguing that children in modern Britain are too restricted.

He would “absolutely” encourage his daughter to set up another stall, and “I’d encourage other people to go and do it as well. It’s a great way to spend a bit of time with the kids in the holidays, and they might learn something.”

A fitting reminder of the great life lesson: when life gives you a fixed penalty notice, make lemonade.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.