An end to Theresa May’s premiership is a double-edged sword, with Jeremy Corbyn on one side – and #M
- George Calladine
- Sep 29, 2017
- 4 min read
Theresa May is in trouble.

The end of her premiership is imminent, and she knows it. Many have been salivating in anticipation of the floundering PMs downfall, waiting in eager anticipation for that killer blow, which this week came in the form of a desperate plea to Parliament for help in both policy and Brexit, as well as the despicable excluding of the EU’s fundamental rights from the (not so) Great Repeal Bill.
Rising like hungry lions smelling blood in the air, Jeremy Corbyn and the Labour party have, since the general election, launched a full-frontal assault against the collapsing Tory minority government; however, the likes of Jacob Rees-Mogg and his circling kettle of aristocratic vultures stand ready to pick the bones and steal the keys to Downing Street.
The critical factor here is the prospect of another general election. Should that scenario be realised, it stands to reason that Labour could clinch a majority for the first time in over a decade. The meteoric rise of Jeremy Corbyn is the most unprecedented development in British politics for years – or, at least since Brexit. And thus, a Labour majority is possible. But, what if we do not get another general election? As an electoral candidate, Jeremy Corbyn stands as the sole exemplary amongst an otherwise terrible bunch – his odds would be fantastic. I’d even put a tenner on it. His odds, however, are entirely non-existent should a Tory civil war erupt, and it’s already brewing. What could be worse than yet another unelected Tory PM?
Provided May’s successor is quite as happy as she was to get in bed with the DUP, the survival of the make-shift majority – the only thing holding the Conservative Party in power – is likely to continue. So, we have to ask ourselves, what is there to fear should Theresa May be cast aside to make room for somebody else?
Look no further than Jacob Rees-Mogg and #Moggmentum. Like it or not, the man commands a cult like following on social media, not dissimilar to Jeremy Corbyn albeit to a lesser degree. That, however, is where the similarities end. Rees-Mogg is a living, breathing stereotypical aristocrat. Born into a privileged, privately educated family as the son of Baron Rees-Mogg, Jacob, a fund-manager turned MP, later married into another; his mother in law, Lady Juliet Tadgell, is the daughter of the 8th Earl Fitzwilliam. Jacob and his wife Helena de Chair live with their six children – the youngest of which is named Sixtus, like some sort of rip-off emperor in-waiting – at Guarnay Court, Somerset. And no, just in case you’re wondering, Guarnay Court is not a charming block of under-funded urban flats dressed in flammable cladding. Instead, it’s a Grade II listed country house, constructed in the 17th Century, whose previous owners include the Duchy of Cornwall.
Typical of poor hating, blue-blooded Tories, Rees-Mogg has a track record of voting to reduce benefits and state welfare. Ironically, one policy he has consistently voted for is the ‘bedroom tax’ which, if you don’t know, is a levy against social tenants by way of reducing housing benefit if they are fortunate enough to have a spare bedroom. I do wonder if Guarnay Court, which kept 57 hospital bedsduring World War II, has any spare rooms? I also wondered if Rees-Mogg and clan have truly worked to earn those rooms or paid any extra tax on them? Fortunately, I have an answer for the latter, but predictably, that answer is no. A combination of inherited wealth (a key area of Tory tax breaks), and a state hand-out of £7.6 million for Mogg’s mother-in-law’s ancestral home, secured Jacob, his wife, their offspring, and their extended family, their exceedingly large and lavish homes. So, being as Mogg and family were fortunate enough to inherit his wealth and home, and receive subsidies from the tax payer, it stands to reason he would be happy to give his bit back to the British public – well, no. He consistently voted against a ‘mansion tax’, and for raising the income tax threshold. A policy of take from the poor to give to the rich.
Mogg, a Christian, typifies the pious right-winger as a man who is anything but moral and loving. While the depths of right-wing social media hail him as a lovable, anti-establishment posho, Mogg continues to vote against same-sex marriage legislation, help for the poor and needy, laws promoting equality and human rights, and measures to prevent climate change. He’s also in favour of mass surveillance. A stand up bloke, by all accounts.
While Mogg’s appeal is his social media profile, one of a comedic stereotype, a man displaced in time, renowned for his humorous speeches and filibustering (holding the unofficial record of longest word ever said in parliament), it could not be a more inaccurate portrayal of his true self. It’s these displaced twentieth century attitudes that are so concerning. Equally as alarming, is his ability to allude public scrutiny and deceive social media users, demonstrating his true calculating and deceitful nature.
As a result, Mogg is the antithesis of the Maybot. She, a socially inept, spontaneous, and humourless mainstream-Tory drone, is malfunctioning and on her way down. He, a cunning, conniving, and presentable social media whiz, unafraid of his own anti-establishment tendencies, is on his way up and there’s no end in sight.
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