The Guardian: War pitches Straw into survival battle

‘Jack Straw!” chorus children in sing-song voices on the steep streets of Bank Top. One boy bounces a football. Another waves a frighteningly realistic toy handgun. Special Branch twitch. People pop out of their terraced homes. Flat cap in hand, the foreign secretary strides from doorstep to corner shop, greeting many voters by name and asking after their fathers.

Flat cap? Did he bring his whippet as well? I get back to Lancashire quite a bit - my family’s still there - and I don’t think I’ve seen anybody in a flat cap up there since about 1975. Maybe he’s doing a celebrity endorsement or something in an attempt to bring them back.

He’s great though Jack Straw, isn’t he? A comedy stalwart. Of course he’s a desperately cynical politician and complicit in the deaths of thousands, but he cuts such a prattish figure it’s not difficult to feel a twinge of sympathy for him.

His willingness to do anything to get the vote out is quite endearing, whether it be to ditch the spectacles and get a new haircut, describe himself as a “football enthusiast” or be photographed in his barefeet and turban on a visit to Gujarat (the Gujariti Muslims are a vital element of his core support back home, apparently). You just want to go, “aw, bless!”

Imagine what he might do should the fear really kick in.