Yowls, screeches, dramatic thumping sounds. It sounds like the England soccer team formulating tactics for their next Euro 2024 match. In fact, it is the unofficial soundtrack to the final British general election debate between Rishi Sunak and Keir Starmer, in advance of the vote on Thursday, July 4th (BBC One, 8.15pm)
Election debates are associated in the common imagination with the razzmatazz of the race for the White House – or, in the Irish context, the eternal silence that descended when Leo Varadkar was asked in 2020 if he’d ever smoked cannabis. This UK back-and-forth falls somewhere between American glamour and Irish waffle – and initially, there is a real possibility of it being derailed by pro-Palestine protesters chanting outside the venue at Nottingham Trent University.
Chanting isn’t quite the word. The sounds that reach the chamber are closer to a weird Lovecraftian parping. It’s impossible to determine what the demonstrators are on about, but the aggressive burbling is off putting and might give you a migraine – though mediator Mishal Husain correctly points out that the right to stage a protest is “part of democracy”.
What is also part of democracy is two politicians droning on as if their lives depended on it (their careers certainly do). Neither Sunak nor Starmer are electrifying speakers, and the face-off lacks the Hollywood punch of the US presidential debate – Donald Trump and Joe Biden square off once again on Thursday.
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One distraction is the set – bright blue and full of chunky hexagons, with a sweeping flight of stairs on either side. It looks like the old ITV quizshow Blockbusters repurposed as the Tardis from Doctor Who. But instead of two Time Lords, the occupants have all the charm and grace of a duo of Daleks trapped in a portaloo.
Sunak, the serving British prime minster, is much the showier, with the clear mission of frightening the bejasysus out of voters who are considering going with Labour (as most are, according to opinion polls). He has his zingers locked and loaded. Addressing the migrant crisis, he claims Starmer’s British Labour Party is soft on illegal immigration and then – wait for it – warns that “If Labour win, the people smugglers are going to need a bigger boat”.
Starmer is less slick and habitually turns puce when addressing a subject about which he is passionate. He accuses Sunak of misrepresenting Labour’s tax plans and bangs on a bit about his track record heading Britain’s public prosecutor office. He also gets off a decent line as Sunak continues to interrupt – saying that if the PM listened more often, he would not be so out of touch with the electorate.
Because we live partly in the British media bubble, Irish viewers will be reasonably familiar with Sunak and Starmer and have a decent grasp of their politics. Yet the debate goes to places the Irish equivalent never would. More time is given to social welfare reform than to the accommodation crisis; infrastructure is not mentioned, but Sunak boasts about the success of his plan to send asylum seekers to Rwanda.
Homelessness is not mentioned once. Incredibly, the unaffordability of housing and its impact on an entire generation (two or three generations, if we’re honest) are bunged in at the end as an afterthought. Meanwhile, at one point, a man asks the two politicians what makes them think they have what it takes to lead “this great nation”.
Can you imagine someone in an Irish debate referring to the country in those terms? They’d be laughed all the way into the RTÉ car park (assuming it hadn’t been sold off first).
Tempers seldom fray. The two talk over each other a bit. Sunak waves his hand when making a point, and Starmer looks incredulous whenever his opponent opens his mouth. Ultimately, it’s stupendously banal. Amid the many upheavals that have wracked British politics since the Brexit vote 2016, the debate somehow goes the full Gareth Southgate. It’s full of huff and puff, but, to the impartial viewer at least, adds up to so very little.
