It’s time to set the record straight. Lewis Carroll never called his Hatter character “Mad”. That came from the Cheshire Cat – let’s call him Larry. Larry told the Hatter that he and the March Hare were “both mad”. But that was something of a confession too: as far as Larry was concerned, everyone in Wonderland – himself included – was completely bonkers. He even told Alice, when she whinged about having to hang out with nutters: “If you weren’t mad you wouldn’t come here.”

Carroll was writing in 1865, and his satire was aimed at the vicissitudes and inequities of mid-Victorian-era society. But as Rishi Sunak – undoubtedly much less of a populist loony than either of his two predecessors – stooped to stroke Number 10’s Larry for the first time, he must have wondered whether he, an apparently sane millionaire married to a billionaire, must actually be mad to want to take up stewardship of the Westminster asylum.

Let’s face it, over the past few months the shitshow that has characterised British public life since 2019 has reached something of a climax

He might well pause for thought. Let’s face it, over the past few months the shitshow that has characterised British public life since 2019 has reached something of a climax. The WTAF stitched to the Hatter’s lapel on our front cover barely sums it up. Boris Johnson – thankfully – resigned in July. As the nation grappled with rampant inflation and fretted over war on the Continent, as we became frustrated and angry at the realisation that we can no longer rely on our once-envied health service (see Polly Morland, Ode to Autumn), as some of us worried about how we’d deal with the “eat or heat” decisions of the winter ahead, as others found themselves relying for the first time on charitable largesse just to feed the kids (see Lucy Easthope, One day at a time), as we all took time away from our worries to acknowledge the death of our longest serving monarch and greet a new King, as all of this was going on, the ruling Conservative Party with its 80-seat “stonking majority” was engaged in time-profligate and politically-schizophrenic shenanigans that oscillated between self-fellation and self-flagellation (those of a more tender disposition should try not to think of Jacob Rees-Mogg here). In short, they took eight weeks to choose a prime minister who was demonstrably unqualified for office and who in the event lasted just six weeks in the job, but who nonetheless managed to send the economy into a tailspin in the short time given to her. WTAF indeed.

And even after Liz Truss – thankfully again – resigned, it’s not as if Tory MPs suddenly came to their senses and started thinking of the interests of those they supposedly represent. Depending on who you believe, between 50 and 102 of the more moronic among them decided that digging up Johnson’s barely cooled political corpse was a devious and cunning plan worthy of Baldrick of Blackadder fame (see Simon Heffer Pond life). Only after several more days of juvenile high jinks did they install without further contest the man who most of them thought all along should be prime minister.

There is of course much to applaud in Rishi Sunak’s rise to office. He is the first Asian, and first practising non-Christian (Disraeli, having converted to Anglicism) to occupy 10 Downing Street, and in terms of faith and ethnicity his appointment will mean a lot to British Asians of all political persuasions. The fact that even now some of the Tory members who voted for Liz Truss are expressing barely concealed racist alarm at her replacement by Sunak just makes it all the more significant and gratifying. But while he has promised to govern with “integrity and humility”, Britain’s richest MP, who has enthusiastically supported most of his predecessors’ hard-line agenda, will find it hard to connect with the millions who are now struggling to make ends meet.

And it must be said that the manner of Sunak’s appointment is regrettable; the way the Tories have conducted themselves has nullified what mandate they ever had. Voters have simply grown tired of their mendacity (see John McTernan’s cover story, Bonkers Britain). Sunak has, predictably, resisted calls for a General Election. If positions were reversed and Labour were in power and a million miles behind in the polls, they’d do the same. And that, basically is the problem. The last time there was a majority government at Westminster was in the 1930s (see Sam Fowles’ new column, Star chamber). Without a proportionally elected House of Commons, you can argue that the current government – and many before it – have never really had a mandate. In any event, the carousel of clowns at Westminster has gone on long enough and if we don’t all kick and scream and demand an election pronto then Larry’s right – we’re all bonkers.

Peter Phelps, Editor