Cameron is preparing for defeat over Leveson

The PM's repeated references to "a hung parliament" suggest that he expects Labour and the Lib Dems to combine forces and defeat him in Monday's vote.

After months of trying and failing to reach agreement on a new system of press regulation, David Cameron has decided to call Ed Miliband and Nick Clegg's bluff. A Commons vote will now be held on Monday night on his proposed Royal Charter model, with government amendments submitted to the crime and courts bill in order to "bring this to a head". 

At his press conference at Downing Street, Cameron dared Labour and the Lib Dems to support him or being their forward own rival amendments. "They can back my amendments and support this Royal Charter to secure a workable new system," he said, "or they can grandstand and end up with a system that I believe won’t work". Cameron later confirmed that Tory MPs would be whipped "in the normal way" and that, were statutory regulation introduced, a majority Conservative government would repeal it.  

The key question now is whether Labour and the Lib Dems will combine forces to defeat Cameron on Monday. With 315 MPs between them, to the Tories' 304 (excluding Speakers), they have the numbers to do so. There are a small number of anti-Leveson Labour MPs (such as David Blunkett, Frank Field, Kate Hoey and Gisela Stuart) but they are outweighed by the larger group of pro-Leveson Tories. A total of 68 Conservative MPs have publicly expressed their support for state-backed regulation, although some have since backed Cameron's stance. 

Labour and the Lib Dems have refused to say how they will vote on Monday, with both expressing their surprise at Cameron's decision to break off the cross-party talks. One Labour source told me that the talks had been "making progress" and that the party still "hoped to reach agreement". 

A Lib Dem spokesman said: "the prime minister has unilaterally decided to pull the plug on cross-party talks. We are still prepared to work with politicians of all parties, including the Conservatives, who want to work with others to implement Leveson." 

That last line is significant. It suggests that the Lib Dems are prepared to combine forces with Labour and any Tory rebels in order to vote for state-backed regulation. Since Leveson lies outside of the coalition agreement, collective responsibility will not apply in the usual fashion, allowing the Lib Dems to oppose the Tories. 

During his press conference, Cameron pointedly (and unusually) referred to the fact that parliament is hung. "Look, we have a hung parliament," he said. "In the end, parliament is going to have to decide. Parliament is sovereign." Those are not the words of a man confident of victory. With no Commons majority for his position, the PM is preparing for defeat.

Update: Ed Miliband has just responded to Cameron's announcement, stating that he and Nick Clegg  may "have to go above David Cameron’s head and work with other Conservative MPs".

Miliband repeatedly name-checked Clegg, suggesting that he is confident of a Labour-Lib Dem alliance on Monday. 

Protestors wear papier mache heads in the likeness of Rupert Murdoch and Prime Minister David Cameron outside the Queen Elizabeth II centre. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

Show Hide image

For the first time in my life I have a sworn enemy – and I don’t even know her name

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

Last month, I made an enemy. I do not say this lightly, and I certainly don’t say it with pride, as a more aggressive male might. Throughout my life I have avoided confrontation with a scrupulousness that an unkind observer would call out-and-out cowardice. A waiter could bring the wrong order, cold and crawling with maggots, and in response to “How is everything?” I’d still manage a grin and a “lovely, thanks”.

On the Underground, I’m so wary of being a bad citizen that I often give up my seat to people who aren’t pregnant, aren’t significantly older than me, and in some cases are far better equipped to stand than I am. If there’s one thing I am not, it’s any sort of provocateur. And yet now this: a feud.

And I don’t even know my enemy’s name.

She was on a bike when I accidentally entered her life. I was pushing a buggy and I wandered – rashly, in her view – into her path. There’s little doubt that I was to blame: walking on the road while in charge of a minor is not something encouraged by the Highway Code. In my defence, it was a quiet, suburban street; the cyclist was the only vehicle of any kind; and I was half a street’s length away from physically colliding with her. It was the misjudgment of a sleep-deprived parent rather than an act of malice.

The cyclist, though, was enraged. “THAT’S CLEVER, ISN’T IT?” she yelled. “WALKING IN THE ROAD!”

I was stung by what someone on The Apprentice might refer to as her negative feedback, and walked on with a redoubled sense of the parental inadequacy that is my default state even at the best of times.

A sad little incident, but a one-off, you would think. Only a week later, though, I was walking in a different part of town, this time without the toddler and engrossed in my phone. Again, I accept my culpability in crossing the road without paying due attention; again, I have to point out that it was only a “close shave” in the sense that meteorites are sometimes reported to have “narrowly missed crashing into the Earth” by 50,000 miles. It might have merited, at worst, a reproving ting of the bell. Instead came a familiar voice. “IT’S YOU AGAIN!” she yelled, wrathfully.

This time the shock brought a retort out of me, probably the harshest thing I have ever shouted at a stranger: “WHY ARE YOU SO UNPLEASANT?”

None of this is X-rated stuff, but it adds up to what I can only call a vendetta – something I never expected to pick up on the way to Waitrose. So I am writing this, as much as anything, in the spirit of rapprochement. I really believe that our third meeting, whenever it comes, can be a much happier affair. People can change. Who knows: maybe I’ll even be walking on the pavement

Mark Watson is a stand-up comedian and novelist. His most recent book, Crap at the Environment, follows his own efforts to halve his carbon footprint over one year.

This article first appeared in the 20 October 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Brothers in blood