Britain’s potential prime ministers both face accusations of prejudice

AT A RABBI’S home in London, a dozen or so guests take their seats for Shabbat dinner, a Friday staple of Jewish households. Before digging in to hunks of challah bread and home-made hummus, each answers a question from their host: “Which non-politician should be prime minister?” One guest nominates Greta Thunberg, a climate-change activist. Another plumps for Prince Andrew on the grounds that he has time on his hands and has already managed to unite the country. The oldies are baffled by a teenager’s choice of Lizzo. “A pop star,” she explains.

This jolly ice-breaker is also a calculated dose of escapism. Like many other Britons, the guests are not thrilled that the next prime minister will be Boris Johnson or Jeremy Corbyn. Jews have particular reason to take against Mr Corbyn, who has been accused of turning a blind eye to anti-Semitism in Labour ranks. On November 25th Ephraim Mirvis, the chief rabbi, wrote in the Times that a “poison—sanctioned from the top” had spread. The next day Mr Corbyn declined four times in a BBC interview to apologise for the long-running sore.