SUN-TANNED Premier David Cameron breezed back to the Balearics yesterday and asked: ‘Terror Crisis? What Terror Crisis?’
Admitley, the climate right now – political or otherwise – is less ‘Winter of Discontent’ right now and more ‘Spring of Disappointment’, but I think the sentiment fits.
When that news intro was originally penned by The Sun nigh-on four decades ago the public demanded to know, ‘Why the hell is the guy in charge on holiday while there’s turmoil on the home soils ?’
As the PM and his family idled around Ibiza, a hoard of right-wing protesters marched on his home address, while his Foreign Secretary prepared to go to bat for thousands of rebel fighters being butchered by a dictator.
And worse still, at least from a PR perspective, the grieving family of slain serviceman mourned at the spot where he was slashed and stabbed to death as DC and Sam Cam posed for the annual holiday snaps.
This wasn’t an easy decision for Mr Cameron, and one I dare say wasn’t taken lightly.
Even toff-goading Nadine Dorries defended it.
And The Mirror’s Kevin Maguire wasn’t quick to put the boot in on breakfast television.
No-one will deny the chap has a tough job and needs the odd few days in the sun.
After all, Gordon Brown never took time off and look what happened to him.
But yesterday was Bank Holiday Monday, and across the nation hundreds of thousands of self-employed Brits, and those in need of overtime rates were back to the grindstone.
They’re not working all the hours under the sun because they’re running a country; they’re doing it to keep a roof over their heads – arguably a much more stressful position to be.
And to wake up to one picture of the PM sunning himself juxtaposed with that of the grieving family of a boy killed for doing a poorly paid job defending the nation is a hard one to swallow for most members of the public.
So what should Big Dave have done? The man was on a hiding to nothing and sure to be persecuted either way, right?
Well yes, but I’d rather be criticised by the odd political columnist accusing me of PR stunts than the odd million or so voters accusing me of abandoning my post.
Stay at home, go to Woolwich, meet the family BEHIND CLOSED DOORS and not for the cameras.
You’ll probably be slated, but who really cares?
Because ultimately – and this is something Westminster and the media village often neglect – most people won’t remember those 500 words of comment because those front page pictures are worth at least 500 more.