“Are you not entertained?” — Maximus in Gladiator (2000)
 
WHILE I admit the Tory leadership contest is hardly the stuff of blood-soaked arena combat, it will just have to suffice until the autumn release of Ridley Scott’s eagerly anticipated Gladiator 2 — and, of course, the next season of BBC1’s rebooted Gladiators.
 
The contest at present truly resembles, albeit in an expanded list of participants, the JL Borges quote (in reference to the Falklands campaign) about “a fight between two bald men over a comb.”

The list of candidates is hardly inspiring, the long distant titanic Tory contests of the past now reduced to a bunch of needy, squabbling muppets, echoing another quote, this time from Marx: “History repeats itself, first as tragedy, second as farce.”
 
Thunderdome — Tory style
 
But what can we expect, when looking at the winners of the party’s internal contests since the 1997 general election? Liz Truss, IDS, William Hague, Boris Johnson, Theresa May, David Cameron and Michael Howard — a sorry bunch indeed.

And challengers such as John Redwood, Michael Gove, Dominic Raab, and David (“Double D”) Davis were hardly missed opportunities for renewal either, although I possessed some misplaced regard for Kenneth Clarke, as at least he obviously regarded the whole thing as a bullshit exercise to feed both fellow MPs and Neanderthal party members.
 
Labour must be chortling (while keeping a watchful eye on Reform UK) over who could be the next leader of His Majesty’s Most Loyal Opposition; who appear to be a collection of clueless Lepidi (the forgotten Triumvir), when they feared a cunning potential Octavian, or even a pugnacious Mark Antony.
 
“Mediocrities ... everywhere. I absolve you.” — Salieri in Amadeus (1984)
 
But, for the sake of differentiating the runners and riders, a look at the current contenders bidding to be the leader of the rump parliamentary party comprising just 121 MPs.
 
James Cleverly: Former home secretary whose name appears to be an oxymoron, given his oafish demeanour and joshing about doseing his wife with date rape drugs, when at the same time discussing the criminality of their use in Parliament.

Tom “Turd” Tugendhat: Well, he managed to make his own slogan, “Together we can. Unite the party. Rebuild trust. Defeat Labour,” spell turd, which says much about this milquetoast centrist currently courting the headbangers with his anti-ECHR rhetoric.

Kemi Badenoch: Someone who really should ask her charm school for a refund. A patronising, Harriet Harman-hacking, know-it-all who would pick a fight at a funeral if she had half the chance.

Robert Jenrick: Former Bormann to Braverman at the Home Office, Richard Desmond’s go-to guy is now overtaking his former boss in the stakes to set himself up as the Obergruppenfuhrer of the Tory hard right. Oily, heep-like and singularly unappealing.

Priti Patel: Aka the “Pritser,” as patron Boris Johnson would call her, the bullying genius behind the Rwanda fiasco, whose only apparent virtue is that she’s not as immediately loathsome as Suella Braverman, her successor at the Home Office. But that ain’t saying much, if anything.

Melvyn Stride: Along with Tugendhat, another charisma-free One-Nation nonentity, one who was sacked by Johnson for voting for Gove in 2019. He might have some redeeming features, but I somehow doubt it. Unlikely to recover his anti-Brexit stance before the 2016 referendum, but may secretly agree with PM Starmer’s budding accomodations with the EU.

Suella Braverman: Braverman, in a typical fit of pique, has declined to stand for the leadership of her “traumatised” party. She now may jump ship to Reform, where her performative antics and egotism will no doubt irritate the similarly inclined Nigel Farage, Lee Anderson, Richard Tice and co to near insanity, which would be a laugh if nothing else.

Expect a vituperative campaign against her Conservative opponents, who will all be accused of backsliding from the true Hard Right Tory Faith and metaphorically stabbing their saviour in the back, a standby line for would-be authoritarians everywhere.
 
At present, the contest resembles nothing so much as a scene from the Blackadder the Third hustings. Minus the humour.

“Kick ’em when they’re down — it’s the best time to do it.” — anonymous saying.
 
Of course ... the Tory men in suits could parachute someone in as potential leader, if one of the few Tory MPs left decides to resign his seat for a gong, and let the portly “world king” over the water return, to further degrade the globe’s “most successful political party.”
 
If Johnson hasn’t got any more billionaire weddings to rock up at that is, suitably attired, as always.