When Someone Downloads a VPN, Peter Kyle Cries

 

Starmer Kowtows To Hamas

In a move that reeks of political cowardice, Prime Minister Keir Starmer has once again demonstrated his willingness to bend to the whims of his party’s most radical elements, this time at the expense of innocent hostages and the moral clarity required to confront terrorism. His recent announcement that the UK will recognise a Palestinian state by September unless Israel meets a laundry list of conditions—conditions that effectively reward Hamas’s intransigence—marks a new low in British foreign policy. This decision, driven by pressure from over 250 MPs, predominantly Labour’s student-politician types, is not only a diplomatic misstep but a moral failure that risks prolonging the suffering of hostages held by Hamas and emboldening a terrorist organisation.

Starmer’s policy shift, unveiled after an emergency Cabinet meeting, hinges on Israel agreeing to a ceasefire, ending the “appalling situation” in Gaza, and committing to a two-state solution—demands that conveniently sidestep Hamas’s role as the instigator of the October 7, 2023, atrocities, where 1,200 people were killed and 251 taken hostage. By framing recognition of Palestinian statehood as a cudgel to pressure Israel, Starmer implicitly legitimises Hamas’s tactics, rewarding their refusal to release hostages or disarm. This is not diplomacy; it’s appeasement dressed up as principle. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu rightly called it out, accusing Starmer of “rewarding Hamas’s monstrous terrorism” and warning that “a jihadist state on Israel’s border today will threaten Britain tomorrow.”

The timing of Starmer’s announcement is particularly galling. With only 20 hostages believed to still be alive after 21 months of captivity, the families of those held by Hamas are enduring unimaginable torment. Emily Damari, a dual British-Israeli citizen released after 471 days in Hamas’s clutches, put it starkly: 

“This move does not advance peace—it risks rewarding terror. It sends a dangerous message: that violence earns legitimacy.” 

Yet Starmer, under pressure from his own backbenchers—many of whom seem more comfortable chanting slogans at student protests than grappling with the complexities of Middle Eastern geopolitics—has chosen to prioritise domestic party management over the lives of these hostages. The letter signed by 255 MPs, including 147 Labour rebels, demanding immediate recognition of Palestine, reveals the depth of Starmer’s capitulation to his party’s hard-left faction.

This is not leadership; it’s political posturing at its worst. Starmer’s conditions for Israel—ceasefire, no annexation in the West Bank, and a vague commitment to “long-term peace”—are deliberately one-sided, ignoring Hamas’s refusal to release hostages or renounce violence. His insistence that Hamas must disarm and play no role in Gaza’s future is hollow when his policy effectively rewards their intransigence by promising statehood regardless of their actions. As Tory leader Kemi Badenoch pointed out, “Recognising a Palestinian state won’t bring the hostages home, won’t end the war, and won’t get aid into Gaza.” It’s a policy that collapses under scrutiny, exposing Starmer’s willingness to sacrifice principle for the sake of appeasing his party’s loudest voices.

The Labour MPs driving this agenda, many of whom cut their teeth in the echo chambers of university politics, seem to view the Israeli-Palestinian conflict through the simplistic lens of oppressor versus oppressed. Their letter, coordinated by Labour MP Sarah Champion, argues that recognition is about Palestinian “self-determination,” conveniently ignoring that Gaza remains under the grip of a terrorist group designated as such by the UK itself. This naivety—or wilful ignorance—betrays a fundamental misunderstanding of the stakes. Recognising a Palestinian state while Hamas still holds sway risks legitimising a regime that thrives on violence and chaos, undermining any hope for a genuine two-state solution.

Starmer’s track record on this issue only deepens the scepticism. In October 2023, he sparked outrage within his own party by appearing to endorse Israel’s right to cut off Gaza’s utilities, only to backtrack after backlash from Labour’s left wing. His flip-flopping reveals a leader more concerned with navigating internal party fault lines than standing firm against terrorism. Now, as Prime Minister, he’s doubled down on this spinelessness, caving to the same faction he once tried to placate. The result is a policy that not only fails to pressure Hamas into releasing hostages but signals to other terrorist groups that holding civilians captive can yield political dividends.

The hostages, like Emily Damari, deserve better. Their families, enduring “day after day” of agony, deserve a government that prioritises their safe return over pandering to domestic political pressures. Starmer’s plan, far from advancing peace, risks prolonging their suffering by emboldening Hamas to hold firm. The Board of Deputies of British Jews has demanded clarification, rightly arguing that recognition must not proceed while Hamas rejects a ceasefire and keeps hostages in captivity. Yet Starmer’s government, in its rush to appease Labour’s student-politician MPs, seems content to ignore this moral imperative.

The broader implications are chilling. By signalling that statehood is on the table regardless of Hamas’s actions, Starmer undermines the very peace process he claims to support. A two-state solution cannot be built on the foundation of a terrorist-run Gaza. As Conservative MP Priti Patel noted, Starmer has “capitulated” to backbench pressure rather than crafting a “proper, meaningful plan” for peace. His policy risks alienating allies like the United States, which has reiterated that Palestinian statehood must come through negotiations, not unilateral gestures. Even Donald Trump, who met with Starmer days before the announcement, distanced himself, noting that the move could be seen as “rewarding Hamas.”

Starmer’s defenders might argue that he’s responding to the humanitarian crisis in Gaza, where UN agencies report “man-made mass starvation” and a desperate need for 500 aid trucks daily. But this crisis cannot be divorced from Hamas’s role in stealing aid and perpetuating violence. By focusing solely on Israel’s obligations, Starmer absolves Hamas of responsibility, reinforcing their strategy of using civilians as pawns. True leadership would demand that Hamas release the hostages and disarm as a prerequisite for any diplomatic progress, not as an afterthought.

In the end, Starmer’s decision is a betrayal of the hostages, of Britain’s moral standing, and of the very principles he claims to uphold. By kowtowing to his party’s student-politician MPs, he has chosen short-term political expediency over long-term peace. The hostages languishing in Gaza’s tunnels, the families clinging to hope, and the British public deserve a Prime Minister who stands firm against terrorism, not one who bends to the loudest voices in his party. Starmer’s legacy risks being defined by this moment of weakness—a moment when he chose appeasement over justice, and in doing so, prolonged the suffering of those who need his resolve the most.

New Series of The Apprentice Launched

 

Oops!

 

Starmer's Property Grab

 

The Prime Minister: We have to take over other accommodation, and we have to drive down the asylum lists. There is no alternative.

We Are Being Fleeced By The State

 

 

Money left (take home pay) after income tax & national insurance:

▪️£35K → £28,721
▪️£50k → £39,521
▪️£100k → £68,562
▪️£150k → £91,286

And that’s before council tax, VAT, fuel duty etc. And that’s before a 25% increase (since 2021) in the cost of many basic essentials. And…

— James Melville 🚜 (@JamesMelville) July 18, 2025

Starmer's Love of Youth

 

In a move that reeks of political opportunism, UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer has thrown his weight behind lowering the voting age to 16, a decision that’s not just bloody stupid but dangerously shortsighted. Touted as a way to “empower” youth and boost democratic engagement, this policy is a masterclass in pandering, sacrificing reason for populist applause. Here’s why Starmer’s plan is a catastrophic misstep that threatens the integrity of British democracy.

1. Starmer’s Cynical Play for Votes

Let’s not mince words: Starmer’s push to enfranchise 16-year-olds isn’t about principle—it’s about politics. Labour’s electoral calculus is painfully transparent. Younger voters, swayed by social media and progressive soundbites, are more likely to lean left. By adding 1.5 million teenagers to the electorate, Starmer is banking on a loyal new voting bloc to shore up Labour’s future. This isn’t empowerment; it’s exploitation. He’s betting that impressionable teens, fresh from scrolling X or TikTok, will be dazzled by Labour’s rhetoric, giving him a permanent edge in elections. It’s a cheap tactic, and Starmer’s willingness to gamble with democracy’s stability to secure it is shameful.

2. Teenagers Aren’t Ready for the Ballot Box 

At 16, most kids are still figuring out how to pass their GCSEs, not dissecting the nuances of fiscal policy or international trade deals. The human brain’s prefrontal cortex, responsible for impulse control and long-term thinking, isn’t fully developed until the mid-20s. Expecting 16-year-olds to make informed decisions on issues like Brexit’s aftermath, NHS funding, or military interventions is absurd. While some teens are politically curious, most lack the life experience to contextualise complex issues. Starmer’s policy assumes a level of maturity that science and common sense flatly contradict, risking votes cast on whims, trends, or whichever influencer screams loudest.

3. A Magnet for Manipulation 

Starmer should know better than to open the floodgates to a demographic so vulnerable to manipulation. Teenagers live in echo chambers of social media, where algorithms amplify outrage and oversimplification. A 16-year-old’s worldview is often shaped by viral clips, not policy papers. Starmer’s decision hands political operatives—Labour included—a golden opportunity to target impressionable voters with slick ads, memes, or celebrity endorsements. This isn’t democracy; it’s a popularity contest on steroids. By lowering the voting age, Starmer is inviting a future where elections are decided by who can best game the algorithm, not who has the best ideas.

4. Legal Inconsistency Exposes the Absurdity

If 16-year-olds are mature enough to vote, why can’t they buy a pint, drive without restrictions, or sign a mortgage? The law rightly recognises that teenagers aren’t ready for certain responsibilities, yet Starmer wants to hand them the power to shape national policy. This contradiction lays bare the policy’s absurdity. Voting isn’t a symbolic pat on the head; it’s a decision with consequences that ripple for generations. If society doesn’t trust a 16-year-old to handle a beer, trusting them to weigh in on Trident renewal or tax reform is laughably inconsistent. Starmer’s willingness to ignore this logic smacks of desperation.

5. No Proof It Boosts Engagement 

Starmer’s claim that lowering the voting age will “strengthen democracy” by boosting youth engagement is baseless. Scotland’s 2014 referendum, where 16-year-olds voted, saw high turnout for that one-off event, but there’s no evidence it created lasting civic participation. Austria, with its voting age of 16, hasn’t seen a youth-driven democratic renaissance either. If Starmer genuinely cared about engagement, he’d invest in civics education or debate programs, not fling open the ballot box to kids who might vote based on a TikTok trend. His policy is a lazy shortcut that risks more harm than good.

6. Undermining Democracy’s Credibility 

Voting is a cornerstone of adulthood, tied to the responsibilities of living in society—paying taxes, working, or making independent choices. Lowering the voting age to 16 cheapens this privilege, turning it into a participation trophy for kids still dependent on their parents. It also risks alienating older voters, who may see elections as less legitimate if teenagers, swayed by fleeting fads, hold equal sway. Starmer’s plan threatens to erode trust in the democratic process, all for a cynical grab at political advantage.

The Danger: A Recipe for Chaos 

By enfranchising 16-year-olds, Starmer is inviting chaos into an already polarised political landscape. Teen voters, easily swayed by emotion or misinformation, could tip elections toward candidates or policies that sound cool but collapse under scrutiny. In a world facing economic uncertainty, global conflicts, and climate challenges, Britain needs sober, informed decision-making—not a democracy swayed by the whims of teenagers. Starmer’s gamble could destabilise governance, handing undue influence to a group unready for the responsibility.

A Smarter Path Forward 

Instead of this reckless stunt, Starmer should focus on preparing young people for civic life. Fund better civics education, encourage youth forums, or create mock elections to teach critical thinking. Let 16-year-olds engage with politics through learning, not by wielding power they’re not equipped to handle. By 18, they’ll be ready to vote with clarity and purpose, not as pawns in Labour’s electoral games.

Conclusion 

Keir Starmer’s push to give 16-year-olds the vote is a masterclass in political cynicism, dressed up as progressive idealism. It’s a bloody stupid idea that ignores the realities of teenage maturity, invites manipulation, and undermines the seriousness of democracy. By prioritising short-term political gain over long-term stability, Starmer is playing a dangerous game with Britain’s future. He should scrap this nonsensical plan and focus on building a democracy that values informed choice over populist stunts. Anything less is a betrayal of the public’s trust.

Rayner Suspended From UNITE

 

Starmer’s 17 In, 1 Out Migrant Deal: A Betrayal of Britain’s Borders

 

In a move that reeks of political capitulation and diplomatic incompetence, Prime Minister Keir Starmer has reportedly sealed a so-called “one in, one out” migration deal with French President Emmanuel Macron, a deal that has morphed into a humiliating 17-to-1 exchange, according to French media reports. This agreement, unveiled during Macron’s state visit to the UK in July 2025, is not just a policy failure—it’s a slap in the face to every British citizen who has demanded stronger border control. Starmer’s negotiation flop is a masterclass in weak leadership, exposing his inability to prioritise national interests and leaving Britain’s borders more porous than ever.

The deal, which was initially pitched as a balanced “one in, one out” arrangement to curb illegal Channel crossings, has devolved into a lopsided travesty. Reports suggest that for every 17 migrants crossing the Channel to the UK, only one will be returned to France, with a trial phase capping returns at a measly 50 migrants per week. With over 44,000 migrants having crossed the Channel since Starmer took office, this equates to a paltry 6% return rate—a figure so negligible it barely qualifies as a policy, let alone a solution. The British public, already frustrated by years of unchecked migration, has been sold a false promise of border security, only to be handed a deal that effectively waves more boats through.

Starmer’s supporters might argue that this deal is a pragmatic step toward cooperation with France, a necessary compromise to tackle the small boat crisis. But pragmatism doesn’t justify surrender. The Prime Minister’s willingness to accept such an imbalanced arrangement reveals a deeper truth: his government lacks the backbone to confront the smuggling gangs exploiting Britain’s borders. Instead of demanding robust action from France—such as intercepting boats before they reach UK waters—Starmer has settled for a token gesture that does little to deter illegal crossings. The French, meanwhile, appear to have outmanoeuvred him, securing UK concessions while offering minimal returns. Macron’s smiling photo-ops with Starmer during the state visit only underscore the one-sided nature of this diplomatic debacle.

The numbers tell a damning story. Home Office figures indicate that over 21,000 migrants have crossed the Channel in 2025 alone, a record high for this point in the year. Yet Starmer’s response is to greenlight a scheme that, at best, will return a mere 1,500 migrants by year’s end, assuming the trial phase even succeeds. This is not a deterrent; it’s a drop in the ocean. The smuggling gangs, who have adapted their tactics to evade authorities, must be laughing at the Prime Minister’s naivety. By accepting a deal that allows 17 times more migrants to stay than are sent back, Starmer is effectively incentivising the very crossings he claims to want to stop.

Worse still, the deal has sparked opposition from other EU countries, including Italy, Greece, Spain, Malta, and Cyprus, who fear France will offload returned migrants onto them under EU rules. This diplomatic fallout exposes Starmer’s failure to anticipate the broader consequences of his negotiations, further isolating the UK in European discussions on migration. The Prime Minister’s much-touted “reset” with the EU, meant to foster cooperation, is crumbling under the weight of his own missteps.

Starmer’s defenders might point to the abandonment of the Rwanda scheme as a sign of moral progress, but scrapping a policy that aimed to deter illegal migration without replacing it with a credible alternative is not leadership—it’s negligence. Shadow Home Secretary Chris Philp has rightly called out Starmer’s cancellation of the Rwanda plan, which could have served as a genuine deterrent. Instead, we’re left with a half-baked agreement that does nothing to address the “pull factors” Macron himself has highlighted, such as access to jobs and benefits in the UK. Starmer’s refusal to consider measures like ID cards, despite French pressure, only compounds the perception of a leader unwilling to take bold action.

Social media sentiment, particularly on X, reflects the public’s outrage. Users have branded the deal a “stitch-up” and accused Starmer of orchestrating the “intentional destruction of Britain by design.” While some dismiss these criticisms as right-wing hyperbole, the underlying frustration is undeniable: the British people want their borders secured, not bartered away in lopsided deals. Starmer’s promise to “smash the gangs” and tackle illegal migration rings hollow when his flagship policy allows 17 migrants to stay for every one returned.

This agreement is not just a failure of negotiation; it’s a betrayal of trust. Starmer campaigned on a platform of competence and control, yet his first major test on migration has exposed him as out of his depth. The British public deserves a leader who fights for their interests, not one who hands Macron a diplomatic victory while Britain’s borders remain a free-for-all. If Starmer cannot deliver on something as fundamental as border security, what hope is there for his government to tackle the myriad other challenges facing the nation? The “17 in, 1 out” deal isn’t just a policy misstep—it’s a symbol of a Prime Minister too weak to stand up for Britain.

RIP Norman Tebbit (1931-2025)

 

Lord Tebbit of Chingford, Former Conservative Stalwart and Thatcher Ally, Dies at 94

Norman Tebbit, a towering figure in British politics and one of Margaret Thatcher’s most steadfast allies, passed away peacefully at his home in Bury St Edmunds on July 7, 2025, at the age of 94. His death, confirmed by his son William, marks the end of a remarkable life shaped by political tenacity, personal tragedy, and an unyielding commitment to Conservative principles.

Born on March 29, 1931, in Ponders End, Middlesex, Tebbit rose from humble beginnings to become a defining voice of Thatcherism. The son of a working-class family—his father an unemployed man during the 1930s—Tebbit often cited his upbringing as the foundation of his resilient character. After serving as a Royal Air Force navigator and working as a journalist and airline pilot, he entered politics, winning the Epping seat in 1970 and later representing Chingford until 1992. Elevated to the House of Lords as Lord Tebbit of Chingford in 1992, he remained an active peer until his retirement in 2022.

Tebbit’s political career flourished under Thatcher’s leadership. As Employment Secretary (1981–1983), he tackled the trade unions with a steely resolve, helping to reshape Britain’s industrial landscape. His tenure as Chairman of the Conservative Party (1985–1987) was instrumental in securing Thatcher’s third general election victory in 1987. Known for his combative style, he earned the nickname “Chingford Skinhead” and was memorably dubbed a “semi-house-trained polecat” by Labour’s Michael Foot. His “On yer bike” remark—urging the unemployed to seek work as his father had—became a symbol of Thatcherite pragmatism, though it drew criticism for its perceived indifference to social hardship.

Tragedy struck on October 12, 1984, when an IRA bomb exploded during the Conservative Party conference in Brighton. Tebbit suffered severe injuries, and his wife, Margaret, was left paralysed from the neck down. His stoic response—returning to public life and caring for her with unwavering devotion—earned him widespread admiration. Margaret Tebbit predeceased him in 2020, and their partnership was a cornerstone of his legacy.

Tebbit’s influence extended beyond policy. As Trade and Industry Secretary (1983–1985) and Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, he championed economic reform and national resilience. His puppet on the satirical show *Spitting Image*—a leather-jacketed hardman—captured his public persona, a role he embraced with pride. Tributes poured in following his death, with Reform UK leader Nigel Farage recalling Tebbit’s early support, and Conservative leader Kemi Badenoch praising his “unstinting service” and embodiment of Thatcherism.

Survived by his son William and daughter Victoria, Lord Tebbit leaves behind a legacy of political courage and personal fortitude. His funeral arrangements are pending, but his impact on British politics will be remembered as a blend of confrontation and conviction, etched into the fabric of the Thatcher era.

The £20K Mattress

 

The Folly of Labour’s Wealth Tax: A Recipe for Economic Stagnation and Capital Flight

 

Labour’s proposed wealth tax has been floated as a silver bullet to address inequality and fund public services. On paper, it sounds noble: tax the ultra-rich, redistribute the proceeds, and everyone benefits. In practice, however, it’s a poorly thought-out policy that risks shrinking the tax base, stifling economic growth, and driving capital out of the UK. Here’s why Labour’s wealth tax is a self-defeating exercise in economic mismanagement.

The Mechanics of a Wealth Tax—and Why It Fails 

A wealth tax targets accumulated assets—property, investments, savings, and other holdings—rather than income. Labour’s plan, while not fully detailed, reportedly aims to impose an annual levy on individuals with assets above a certain threshold, potentially £1 million or higher. Proponents argue it will generate billions to fund public services. But the reality is far messier.

Wealth taxes are notoriously difficult to implement. Valuing complex assets like private businesses, art, or illiquid investments is a bureaucratic nightmare. Unlike income, which is relatively straightforward to measure, wealth fluctuates with market conditions and requires constant reassessment. This creates administrative costs that eat into the revenue generated. France’s wealth tax, for example, cost nearly as much to administer as it raised in some years, with estimates suggesting administrative expenses consumed up to 80% of the revenue.

Moreover, the tax take is often overstated. The UK’s wealthiest individuals hold much of their wealth in non-liquid forms—real estate, private companies, or offshore trusts. A wealth tax would incentivise aggressive tax planning, as the ultra-rich hire armies of accountants to undervalue assets or move them out of reach. Historical data backs this up: when France implemented its wealth tax, it collected far less than projected, raising €4.2 billion at its peak against expectations of €6-8 billion annually.

Capital Flight: The Inevitable Consequence 

The biggest flaw in Labour’s plan is its blindness to human behaviour. Wealthy individuals are not passive ATMs; they’re mobile, and their capital is even more so. A wealth tax creates a powerful incentive for the rich to relocate their assets—or themselves—abroad. The UK is not an island in a vacuum; it competes globally for investment and talent. When France imposed its wealth tax, an estimated 60,000 millionaires left the country over a decade, taking their wealth, spending, and tax contributions with them. The UK, with its open economy and proximity to low-tax jurisdictions like Switzerland, Ireland, or Monaco, would face a similar exodus.

Capital flight doesn’t just mean fewer billionaires at London galas. It means less investment in UK businesses, fewer jobs, and a smaller tax base. The wealthy don’t just sit on piles of gold; they invest in startups, property, and infrastructure. When they leave, or move their assets offshore, the ripple effects hit the broader economy. For instance, France’s wealth tax led to a measurable drop in entrepreneurial activity, as high-net-worth individuals diverted funds to avoid taxation rather than reinvesting in businesses. The UK, already grappling with post-Brexit investment challenges, can ill afford such a hit.

Shrinking the Tax Take

Ironically, a wealth tax often reduces overall tax revenue. The rich contribute disproportionately to income, capital gains, and consumption taxes. When they leave, or shift their assets to tax havens, these revenue streams dry up. France’s wealth tax, again, is a cautionary tale: while it raised €4 billion annually, the associated capital flight cost the government an estimated €60 billion in lost tax revenue over its lifespan, as wealthy individuals moved income-generating activities abroad.

The UK’s tax system already captures significant revenue from the wealthy. The top 1% of earners pay nearly 30% of all income tax, and capital gains tax ensures that asset growth is taxed when realised. A wealth tax risks double taxation—hitting assets that have already been taxed as income or will be taxed as gains—while driving away the very people who fund the system. The Institute for Fiscal Studies has warned that a UK wealth tax could generate as little as £1-2 billion annually, far below Labour’s lofty projections, while triggering behavioural changes that reduce other tax revenues.

The Economic Chill

Beyond revenue, a wealth tax sends a chilling signal to investors and entrepreneurs. The UK thrives as a global financial hub because it’s seen as a stable, predictable place to do business. Introducing a wealth tax undermines that reputation, suggesting that accumulated success will be punitively targeted. This discourages risk-taking and long-term investment. Why build a business in the UK if the government will tax your wealth annually, regardless of whether you’ve realised any gains?

Small businesses and family-owned enterprises would be particularly hard hit. Many “wealthy” individuals under Labour’s threshold own illiquid assets like farms or small companies. Forcing them to pay an annual tax on these assets could mean selling off parts of their business or land, undermining their viability. This isn’t soaking the super-rich; it’s kneecapping the middle class and small entrepreneurs.

The Global Evidence 

History offers clear lessons. France repealed its wealth tax in 2017 after years of capital flight and disappointing revenue. Sweden, Norway, and Germany all abandoned similar experiments for the same reason: the costs outweighed the benefits. Switzerland, often cited as a wealth tax success, has a vastly different system—low rates, decentralised implementation, and a culture of tax compliance—that the UK cannot replicate. Labour’s plan ignores these failures, banking on ideological appeal rather than economic reality.

A Better Way Forward 

If Labour wants to fund public services, there are smarter alternatives. Reforming capital gains tax to align rates with income tax could raise revenue without the administrative bloat of a wealth tax. Cracking down on tax avoidance through international cooperation would target actual evasion rather than punishing wealth creation. And boosting economic growth—through deregulation or incentives for investment—would expand the tax base organically, without driving anyone away.

Labour’s wealth tax is a populist mirage: it promises riches but delivers economic stagnation. By ignoring the mobility of capital and the complexity of wealth, it risks shrinking the tax take, gutting investment, and sending the UK’s wealthiest contributors fleeing to friendlier shores. The result won’t be a fairer society—it’ll be a poorer one.

Palestinian Popular People's Party of Islington Collpases Within One Hour

 

In a plot twist that could only be scripted by the gods of political farce, Zarah Sultana and Jeremy Corbyn, the dynamic duo of hard-left heroics, have managed to form a new political party and promptly fall out faster than you can say "socialism or barbarism." The as-yet-unnamed party—rumoured to be tossing around names like "Real Change," "Peace and Justice Project," or perhaps "The People’s Glastonbury"—lasted roughly 60 minutes before descending into the kind of factionalism that would make a Monty Python sketch blush. Here’s how the revolution imploded before it could even print its first pamphlet.

On Thursday evening, Zarah Sultana, the firebrand MP for Coventry South, took to X with the fervour of a revolutionary poet, declaring she was resigning from the Labour Party after 14 years to co-lead a new left-wing utopia with her comrade-in-arms, Jeremy Corbyn. “Westminster is broken,” she thundered, “and the two-party system offers nothing but managed decline and broken promises.” With a flourish, she announced that she and Corbyn, alongside a ragtag band of independent MPs, campaigners, and activists, would forge a new path to challenge the billionaire-backed status quo. The rallying cry was bold: “In 2029, the choice will be stark: socialism or barbarism.” Stirring stuff, indeed—until it all unravelled faster than a poorly knit red scarf.

Mere minutes after Sultana’s grandiose proclamation, whispers began to circulate that Corbyn, the bearded sage of Islington North, was not quite on board with this impromptu launch. According to reports, the former Labour leader was “furious and bewildered” at being blindsided by his supposed co-leader. Sources close to Corbyn—presumably sipping herbal tea in a north London allotment—revealed he hadn’t even agreed to join the party, let alone co-lead it. The Sunday Times’ Gabriel Pogrund reported that Corbyn was less than thrilled about Sultana’s unilateral declaration, with some in his Independent Alliance describing it as “premature and potentially counterproductive.” In other words, the revolution hadn’t even started before the comrades were bickering over who got to hold the megaphone.

The comedy of errors didn’t stop there. While Sultana was busy rallying her 14,000+ online sign-ups with visions of dismantling capitalism, Corbyn was apparently still mulling over whether he even wanted to be the figurehead of this new venture. Having spent months carefully nurturing his Independent Alliance—a loose coalition of pro-Palestinian MPs who beat Labour in last year’s election—he wasn’t keen on rushing into a formal party structure, especially one announced without his say-so. His preference for collective decision-making, a hallmark of his leadership style, clashed spectacularly with Sultana’s bold solo act. It’s as if she declared herself co-captain of the ship while Corbyn was still deciding whether to board.

X users, ever the Greek chorus of modern politics, wasted no time piling on. One post gleefully noted, “The new Corbyn and Sultana party appears to have lasted about 90 minutes before descending into factionalism and division.” Another quipped, “It’s genuinely funny that the Sultana-Corbyn party had a split literally within an hour of being launched. Stereotypes are usually stereotypes for a reason.” Even Nigel Farage, never one to miss a chance to stir the pot, jabbed: “If you thought Keir Starmer was having a bad week, it just got a whole lot worse.” The schadenfreude was palpable, as the hard-left’s latest attempt at unity crumbled like a stale scone.

The irony is thicker than a Corbynista manifesto. Sultana, suspended from Labour for her principled stand against the two-child benefit cap, positioned herself as the voice of the disenfranchised, accusing Starmer’s government of being “an active participant in genocide” in Gaza and failing to tackle poverty. Corbyn, meanwhile, has been dropping cryptic hints about a new party for months, telling ITV’s Peston there was a “thirst for an alternative” and that a “grouping will come together.” Yet when push came to shove, it seems Sultana’s enthusiasm outran Corbyn’s caution, leaving the duo in a public spat before their party could even settle on a logo.

This isn’t the first time the hard-left has tripped over its own ideals. The Labour Party itself has a storied history of splintering under the weight of ideological purity—think of the SDP in the 1980s or, more recently, the pro-Gaza independents who siphoned votes from Labour in 2024. Polls suggest a Corbyn-led party could snag 10% of the vote, enough to dent Labour’s prospects and hand Nigel Farage’s Reform UK a gleeful advantage. But if Sultana and Corbyn can’t even agree on who’s leading their revolution, it’s hard to see them troubling Starmer’s sleep.

As the dust settles on this one-hour wonder, one can’t help but marvel at the sheer audacity of it all. Sultana’s vision of a new socialist dawn was bold, passionate, and—let’s be honest—doomed from the start. Corbyn, ever the reluctant messiah, seems to have been dragged into the spotlight only to recoil at the chaos. Together, they’ve given us a masterclass in how to launch a political party and dismantle it before the ink dries on the press release. Somewhere, Keir Starmer is probably chuckling into his morning coffee, while the rest of us are left wondering: will the next left-wing rebellion last long enough to make it to lunch?

The Tears Didn't Cross My Desk

 

Goodbye-ee!

 

Goodbye-ee, goodbye-ee,
Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye-ee,
Tho’ it’s hard to part I know,
We’ll be tickled to death to see you go.
Don’t cry-ee, dont sigh-ee,
there’s a silver lining in the sky-ee,
Bonsoir, old thing, cheer-i-o, chin, chin,
Nah-poo, toodle-oo, Goodbye-ee.

The Nowhere Man

 

He's a real Nowhere Man, 

Sitting in his nowhere land, 

Making all his nowhere plans for nobody. 

He has no opinion, 

Doesn't have a point of view, 

Knows not where he's going to, 

He has no vision, 

Blind to what the future holds, 

Drifting through the tales he's told, 

Nowhere Man, just floating aimlessly. 

He has no principles, 

No foundation where he stands, 

Empty heart and empty hands, 

He doesn't own the suit he wears, 

Borrowed life, he just don't care, 

Wearing masks to hide the bare, 

Nowhere Man, where are you going now?