THE key thing to understand is that politics is all about bullying. The Opposition bullies ministers. Ministers bully civil servants, or are bullied by them. MPs are bullied by the media. Whips bully backbenchers.

And the whole festival of torment coalesces at the ritualised torment of Prime Minister’s Questions. It’s called democracy. You wouldn’t understand. It’s the times we live in.

Timing was twice unfortunate to Deputy PM Dominic Raab yesterday. First, having been accused of throwing tomatoes in a bullying tantrum, he had to stand in for Rishi Sunak at PMQs, as the latter was away abroad talking turkey about Russia and playing chicken with China.

Secondly, it’s Anti-Bullying Week, for which Big Raab was never going to be poster boy, unless under the word “Wanted”.

Opposition MPs pointedly wore anti-bullying stickers, and proceedings began with Labour’s Clive Betts asking the Domster if he agreed the PM should ensure that “no minister who has a charge of bullying against them should continue to serve in his Government”.

Mr Raab, looking as ever unhelpfully guilty of something, averred that as soon as he’d heard about the complaints he’d called for an investigation. Into himself.

Picture the scene in his office: “Bullying? Me? What!” [Throws leaf of lettuce at adviser]. “I demand I be investigated immediately. Well, get on with it before I skewer you with a cucumber!”

Worse was to come for the Deputy PM when his bête noire, Angela Rayner, floated before his eyes in a frock festooned with birds in foliage. That foliage concealed thorns with which to stab Mr Prick. Sorry, prick Mr Raab.

But the Labour deputy leader didn’t go for the jugular right away. Cruelly, she played with Dominic, her first question – about Poland – being so innocuous that a relieved Raab was delighted to “entirely agree”. That was a first. And a last.

Ms Rayner changed up a gear, asking Dom where Britain came in the OECD index of 38 countries. After the temporary top Tory waffled expertly of other matters, Ange helped him out: “I will answer the question: 38 out of 38.” Yay, another British first. Sorry, last.

Ms Rayner added: “If there was a World Cup for growth we wouldn’t even qualify.” Bit cruel mentioning the World Cup when there were Scottish people present.

The cruelty continued as Mr Rayner suddenly brought out her claws and scratched Mr Raab right across the coupon with a reminder about the allegations against him. “Will he apologise?”

Dom made a sorry mess of the apology, promising only that he’d always behaved “professionally”. He didn’t say which profession. Wrestler? Gang boss?

Angela ganged up on him again: “Let me get this straight. He’s had to demand an investigation into himself because the Prime Minister is too weak to get a grip.” These “weak” and “get a grip” references are the tropes with which Labour is bullying Mr Sunak at the moment. They’ll be demanding he hand over his dinner money next. (Rishi: “OK, there’s £5,000 there. Take it.”)

Ange ripped into Rishi for defending a deputy “whose behaviour has been described as abrasive, controlling and demeaning, with junior staff too scared to even enter his office. And that’s without the flying tomatoes.”

Yes, about those tomatoes: the story goes that, having got the pip about something, Mr Raab extracted three of the controversial fruits from his Pret salad and chucked them, neither willy nor nilly nor yet at an adviser, but into a bag. Must be some shot.

Given such sordid behaviour, Ange asked: “What’s he still doing here?” I don’t know. Maybe his salad days were behind him.

Angela also wanted to know when the Government was going to appoint an ethics adviser. Imagine having that job at Westminster. Even Aristotle would think it beyond him.

Talking about folk from times past, loping lankily out of the Victorian London fog came Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conservative member for Doily Snuff, who wondered (alas, out loud) “if my right honourable and learned friend has noticed that the people who are currently criticising him have a record of bullying second to none”.

He gave examples of a Labour MP forced to quit because of anti-Semitic bullying, a BBC journalist needing bodyguards at Labour conferences, and a Labour member who’d been suspended for bullying.

This, he averred, was “at the very least hypercritical and maybe a stronger word that is not necessarily parliamentary”. What word? Pharisaic? Tartuffian? No, he meant “hypocritical”, which is not permitted under House rules.

The right honourable Moggie had a point, though. They’re all at it. Let he who cast the first stone just stoap it.

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