PMQs review: Miliband keeps his cool and wins another NHS battle

The Labour leader refused to rise to Cameron's child benefit jibes and left the PM struggling to explain away the A&E crisis.

Even before Ed Miliband got to his feet at today's PMQs, David Cameron went on the attack over his U-turn on child benefit. Reminding Miliband that he had criticised the changes in his first-ever outing at the despatch box, Cameron derided Labour's "total and utter confusion" and quipped (in response to a question from Douglas Carswell on a recall bill): "I hope the leader of the opposition will recall his attack on child benefit". He topped that later with this line: "I know I've been in Ibiza but they've been taking policy-altering substances".

But Miliband, his zen-like calm on full display, refused to rise to Cameron's bait and challenged him over the new figures showing that A&E waiting times have reached a nine year high. As before, Cameron blamed Labour's 2004 decision to remove responsibility from GPs for out-of-hours care but Miliband was on strong ground, noting that waiting times fell between 2004 and 2010, that GPs' leader Clare Gerada had described this explanation as "lazy", and that doctors blamed the upheaval caused by the government's NHS reorganisation. The voters, weary of Cameron's excuses, are likely to side with Labour, which now enjoys a 15 per cent poll lead on health (compared to a Tory lead of 3 per cent in 2010).

Cameron, who has chosen to maintain the NHS ring-fence in the Spending Review, attempted to carve out a dividing line when he claimed that Labour would "cut the NHS", but it's worth noting that Miliband last month stated that a Labour government would protect the NHS. He told Nick Robinson: "We're not going to be cutting the health service, I'm very clear about that. We will always be protecting the health service and will always make it a priority." Labour won't allow the Tories such an easy chance to claim that they are "the party of the NHS".

When the Labour frontbench alerted Cameron to as much, he replied: "That's changed as well! We've got a new health policy! Honestly, there are so many U-turns they should be having a grand prix." But while politicians and journalists obsess over U-turns, the voters are more concerned with whether the party in question has the right policy (and the majority supported the child benefit cuts). If Labour's move on child benefit helps convince a sceptical public that it would be fiscally responsible in government then it will be Miliband who gains.

A more awkward moment came when Cameron, in response to a piece in today's Daily Mail reporting that half of the shadow cabinet now support an EU referendum, asked those who did to raise their hands. When none did, he declared: "the people's party doesn't trust the people". It is precisely for fear of this line of attack that the likes of Ed Balls and Jon Cruddas have urged Miliband to commit to holding a referendum after 2015. As we get closer to the vote on the Tories' EU referendum bill on 5 July, expect Cameron to take every opportunity to make hay with this divide. 

Ed Miliband at Prime Minister's Questions.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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I dined behind the Houses of Parliament in my sexually connected foursome

My wife and I would sometimes dine out with another couple. We did not always check the significance of the date. 

I am self-employed and find that working from home, setting your own schedule, the days generally blur into each other, with weekends holding no significance, and public holidays, when those who are employed in factories, offices or shops get time off, meaning nothing. I am often surprised to go out and find the streets empty of traffic because it is some national day of observance, such as Christmas, that I wasn’t aware of. I find myself puzzled as to why the shops are suddenly full of Easter eggs or pancake batter.

Growing up in a Communist household, we had a distinct dislike for this kind of manufactured marketing opportunity anyway. I remember the time my mother tried to make me feel guilty because I’d done nothing for her on Mother’s Day and I pointed out that it was she who had told me that Mother’s Day was a cynical creation of the greetings card monopolies and the floral industrial complex.

Valentine’s Day is one of those I never see coming. It’s the one day of the year when even the worst restaurants are completely booked out by couples attempting to enjoy a romantic evening. Even those old-fashioned cafés you’ll find still lurking behind railway stations and serving spaghetti with bread and butter will tell you there’s a waiting list if you leave it late to reserve a table.

In the late 1980s my wife and I would sometimes dine out with another couple, he a writer and she a TV producer. One particular place we liked was a restaurant attached to a 1930s block of flats, near the Houses of Parliament, where the endless corridors were lined with blank doors, behind which you sensed awful things happened. The steel dining room dotted with potted palm trees overlooked a swimming pool, and this seemed terribly sophisticated to us even if it meant all your overpriced food had a vague taste of chlorine.

The four of us booked to eat there on 14 February, not realising the significance of the date. We found at every other table there was a single couple, either staring adoringly into each other’s eyes or squabbling.

As we sat down I noticed we were getting strange looks from our fellow diners. Some were sort of knowing, prompting smiles and winks; others seemed more outraged. The staff, too, were either simpering or frosty. After a while we realised what was going on: it was Valentine’s Day! All the other customers had assumed that we were a sexually connected foursome who had decided to celebrate our innovative relationship by having dinner together on this special date.

For the four of us, the smirking attention set up a strange dynamic: after that night it always felt like we were saying something seedy to each other. “Do you want to get together on Sunday?” I’d say to one of them on the phone, and then find myself blushing. “I’ll see if we can fit it in,” they’d reply, and we would both giggle nervously.

Things became increasingly awkward between us, until in the end we stopped seeing them completely. 

This article first appeared in the 25 May 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Why Islamic State targets Britain

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