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Daily Mail
January 4, 2014
The Right Honourable Nigel Keith Anthony Standish Vaz has never been noted for his self-awareness. Without a doubt, he’s self-important, self-satisfied and self-promoting.
He’s certainly acutely aware of himself. But that’s not exactly self-awareness. Quite the opposite.
Vaz is a human selfie.
There’s no photo-opportunity or publicity stunt into which the Labour MP for Leicester East and self-appointed representative of the entire Indian subcontinent can’t thrust himself front and centre.
Thumbs up, three sombreros.
One minute he’s inviting the repulsive Russell Brand to turn a Commons select committee into a grotesque celebrity circus. The next he’s posing outside Parliament with the bewildered family of the hospital nurse who took her own life after becoming entangled in the Royal radio phone hoax fiasco.
Vaz has the uncanny ability to paint himself into a corner and then walk out over the wet paint, apparently unscathed.
He has survived a series of well-documented scrapes, scandals and dubious associations which would have ended the political careers of most men with even a Rizla-thin carapace of self-awareness.
None of this has prevented him rising to membership of the Privy Council and becoming chairman of the Home Affairs Select Committee.
Hilariously, he is now touting himself as the next Speaker in succession to the equally absurd buffoon Bercow, another parliamentary puff-adder with whom Vaz shares Norma-Desmond-scale delusions of grandeur. But given his seemingly unstoppable career trajectory, who would bet against him stepping into Bercow’s size zero pumps?
Perhaps Vaz’s ambitions also extend to becoming our next monarch. When he turned up at Luton Airport this week, glad-handing Romanians in the arrivals lounge, he looked like the Queen greeting guests at a Buck House garden party.
‘Have you come far?’
Either that, or the bloke from the Campari ad with Lorraine Chase: ‘Were you truly wafted here from Paradise?’
‘Nah, Bucharest Airport.’
It was one of the most bizarre spectacles since the then Labour Home Secretary Jack Straw travelled to Dover to shake the hands of illegal immigrants from the Sangatte transit camp clambering on to British soil from the back of a lorry.
The reluctant Romanians roped in for the greater glory of Keith Vaz looked as baffled as all the rest of us. They’d been told Britain was a land of milk and honey, but even they didn’t expect to be met by a distinguished Member of Parliament bearing a complimentary cup of Costa coffee and a cheese and ham panini.
What on earth was Vaz doing there? Perhaps he was simply passing through the airport on his way to a midwinter parliamentary ‘fact-finding’ mission in sunnier climes and couldn’t resist the chance to cash in on a quiet news day when he saw the assembled camera crews.
His high-profile intervention doesn’t seem to have added much to the immigration debate.
If anything, the sight of him handing out free cappuccinos at the airport will have made Britain appear even more attractive to potential migrants watching events unfold on satellite TV in their Sofia slums.
Vaz even had the chutzpah to call for the British people to be given a referendum on freedom of movement in Europe. Bit late for that, old son. We’re talking stable doors here.
This from a prominent member of a Labour government that deliberately dismantled Britain’s borders without a democratic mandate and, in the words of Peter Mandelson, ‘sent out search parties’ for millions of immigrants from all over the world.
Maybe Vaz has been influenced by the fact that the settled ethnic communities in his own constituency are among the 80 per cent of British voters now opposed to further mass immigration.
