The Foreign Secretary Philip Hammond has hinted at a complex future for the war against Isis. Photo: Getty
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Foreign Secretary: the US legal basis for action in Syria “looks robust”

Today, parliament will vote on the UK using airstrikes against Islamic State in Iraq. 

The House of Commons is to vote today on whether or not to use airstrikes against Islamic State (also known as Isis) in Iraq.

David Cameron has recalled parliament today to ask MPs’ approval to join the US in targeting the militant group.

The BBC’s Nick Robinson reports that it is very likely the vote will pass, because the three party leaders alongside their whips have ensured against a defeat in “minute detail”. This diligence comes a year after the Prime Minister’s damaging defeat in a vote on military action in Syria.

However, in spite of the likelihood of a win for the government, one difficulty remains. The government has only made the motion about intervention in Iraq, to help the Iraqi government, and will not be voting today to go into Syria. This is because there is a clear legal basis for the former, whereas the latter – under Bashar al-Assad’s regime – is more complicated.

It seems a precedent is emerging for the opposition to hold an effective veto when a British Prime Minister attempts to join in foreign wars, and it is thought that Labour will only vote in favour of  action unequivocally sanctioned by international law.

As the Labour MP Diane Abbott, who is one of a handful of MPs planning to vote against the motion, told the BBC’s Today programme this morning, “call me pernickety, but [military intervention] has to be legal”.

However, the Foreign Secretary Philip Hammond, speaking on the same programme this morning, suggested that he does see a legal basis for attacking IS in Syria.

The US, which began its airstrikes against the extremists this week, has struck targets in Syria. It argues a legal justification of “collective self-defence”, which is a case that currently has uncertain status in international law.

Hammond, when asked whether he sees this action in Syria as legally sound, replied, “it looks robust to me.”

He said:

The US is already carrying out military operations in Syria. The first challenge is to push Isil out of Iraq. . .

Well, in the future is another question. . . We’d look at the circumstances at the time, if we felt we had some capability to contribute, and it [airstrikes in Syria] was needed. . . then we would certainly make the case for doing that if circumstances were right. . . It is clear that the US intervening in Syria is also able to do so on a legal basis on collective self-defence . . . it looks robust to me.

He added, “we’re absolutely not ruling anything out”, but insisted, “everyone understands very well that if there was any suggestion of going further than that [striking IS in Iraq], we [would go back to the Commons for another vote].”

For the few MPs – mainly Labour, but also some Tories ­– opposing military action or unsure about how to vote, the Foreign Secretary’s words will not be much comfort. A key argument deployed against intervening in foreign conflicts is that it quickly becomes difficult to extract oneself once it’s begun. And Hammond’s words hint at a war that will only get bigger and take longer. Indeed, he said that, if necessary, Britain could send more Tornadoes to the area than the six it will send initially if the vote passes in the Commons today.

This, coupled with the Defence Secretary Michael Fallon’s suggestion in the House magazine that the campaign could be a “long haul” of “two to three years”, may make many politicians think twice before voting for military action this afternoon.

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.

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Why Philip Green's fall should bring down the honours system – but won't

Sir Shifty may fall in disgrace, but our ridiculous system will endure. No matter what's happening in the rest of politics.

Sir Philip Green’s Efficiency Review (2010) is his Das Kapital and it is still, happily, online. You can, if you wish, smirk at his recommendations to the government, which were solicited by David Cameron, I imagine, because when he stood next to Green he looked not like a 17th-century woodcut but like a tall, handsome semi-aristocrat.

“There is no motivation to save money or to treat cash ‘as your own’,” Green grumbles, before complaining, “There are inconsistent commercial skills across departments.” I am weeping with laughter at the whole report. But I’m not one of those BHS employees watching their pension ­vanish as the hideous cushions, throws and bedspreads pile up on the Green family yacht Lionheart. I instantly rename the yacht 14-Day Return Policy No More.

The days when Green could write efficiency reviews for people to ignore are gone. It is said that he could lose his knighthood, because that would be exciting and pointless. If so, I hope the ceremony features the formal rending of a garment from the BHS sale bin – perhaps a torn sock will be flung at his head? The Queen will not be happy, because de-knighting makes the ancient system of patronage look as ridiculous as it really is. Do intercessors between man and God make mistakes? Would they raise a man the Daily Mail now calls “Sir Shifty”? (I checked whether there was a Sir Shifty among the knights of the Round Table who flogged the Holy Grail to a passing tinker. There was not.)

Lord Melbourne advised Queen Victoria not to attempt to make her husband, Albert, a king, for if the people knew that they could make kings, they might unmake them. Green will discover this in his tiny way. But the elites should not hide their baubles. One fallen knight will not destroy the system (and I cannot think that Green will take £571m from his Lionheart cushion budget to save his knighthood by replenishing the BHS pension fund, because a knighthood is, in essence, just a tiny Bentley Continental that you wear over your nipple). One fallen knight should destroy the system but it won’t, because human conceit and docility are without end. Green will be shunned. Nothing will change.

One might have hoped that the Brexit vote would have alerted Cameron to the abyss between the electorate and the elected. (Even Alastair Campbell, chomping against Brexit, seemed to forget that he was as complicit in the alienation of voters as anyone else: government by sofa, teeth and war.) The response was glib, even for Cameron, a man so glib that I sometimes think he is a reflection in a pond. Brexit hit him like someone caught in a mild shower without an umbrella. He hummed at the lesson that history dealt him; he hummed as he left his page. It was the hum of the alpha Etonian caught out in a mistake, yes, but it was still a bloody hum.

His next act was to increase pay-offs to favoured courtiers against civil service advice and at public expense; then, it was reported, he nominated his spin doctor Craig Oliver and his former spin doctor Gabby Bertin for peerages, because the upper house needs more PRs. He has learned nothing. I wish him a relaxed retirement in which he will, apparently, write his four-page memoir, David Cameron: My Struggle (sub-subtitle: Eton Mess?). I hope he does not attempt to deny “the prosciutto affair”, because there is no need. It was not true. It was too pure a metaphor.

So the honours system, an essential part of our alienating politics, alongside dodgy donors, duck houses and George Galloway, endures in its worst form as conventional politics fails. It is a donkey sanctuary for political friends and Bruce Forsyth. I am not suggesting that everyone who has been honoured is dreadful – some lollipop ladies deserve to be patronised with an OBE (when there is no E any more), I am sure, and the lords, some of whom are excellent, are the functional opposition now – but the system can no longer be defended by the mirth potential of watching politicians ponder what light-entertainment celebrities might swing a marginal before being posthumously accused of rape. We must find something better before the house burns down. Perhaps a robust parliamentary democracy?

The problem is best expressed by the existence of a specialist consultancy called Awards Intelligence, which engages in “VIP brand-building” by soliciting awards. It sells “awards plans” from £795, which I could well imagine Philip Green perusing as he bobs about aboard Lionheart, were it not too late. The Awards Intelligence website tells us so much, though obliviously, about the narcissism of modern politics that I am tempted to reproduce it in full. But I will merely report that it asks:

"Did you know that you can join the House of Lords on a part-time basis as an Independent Crossbench Peer or a political peer affiliated to one of the main politial parties – even if you have ongoing work, family or community commitments!"

The message from Awards Intelligence, which boasts of a 50 per cent success rate, is clear: the legislature is part-time, it exists to “instil trust, add credibility and provide a platform for you to have your say” – and it can’t always spell “political”.

Sir Shifty and Awards Intelligence do not constitute the worst crisis in the history of honours, dreadful though they are. During the First World War the royal German cousins were stripped of their garters, so that British soldiers would not have to kill men of higher rank. But it is time for the Queen to stop pinning toys on nipples. They are part of a political system sweeping us, swiftly, towards the night.

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue