Labour leader wanted to talk about policy but instead faced questions about the ‘plot’ against him and brother David Miliband Ed Miliband answered the questions that have kept Britain awake at night during the depth of recession. When did he murder his brother? And where exactly has he buried the body? Actually, the Labour leader did no such thing. He took a short bus ride across the Thames to the thriving community centre in Coin Street (next to the National Theatre) to warn welfare scroungers, parasitic bankers and anyone speculating in Southern Cross’s elderly residents that he’s on their case. Watch out, there’s a Miliband about and he’s tough! This was a difficult pitch for two reasons. One, that the media is not as interested in Labour’s welfare policy as its warfare policy. Two, there isn’t a Miliband about, there are two, Ed and David; also a second Ed (Balls). They are all supposed to be knifing each other like Borgia popes. Apart from the fratricide, it must be a benefit office’s nightmare. Is the Miliband with a wife and two children in NW3 the same as the one living in similar circumstances in NW5? Which one has been on jobseeker’s allowance since losing the leadership? Does Ed Balls deny plotting more than 16 hours a week against Tony Blair for fear of losing housing benefit? Do parasitic bankers claim multiple bonuses from different banks using faked national insurance numbers? And when Labour leaders bury their brother under the political patio, do they carry on claiming their child benefit? Leader Ed’s wholesome audience, mostly voluntary sector workers, clapped him warmly before asking earnest questions that were even longer than his speech about leading “the party of grafters”. They wanted to discuss immigration, disability hate crimes and other real-world issues. No one watching on TV could actually see them, but they could hear their applause. Whenever a TV reporter asked Ed about his missing brother and his own leadership problems they whooped supportively while he dismissed Westminster village “gossip and tittle tattle” irrelevant to most people in the real world. It was all a bit like Ryan Giggs’ love life: no one cares except those who do. Grafter Ed managed to be cheerful and gracious under pressure. He ignored the fish and chip shop owner from Herne Hill who mistook him for his brother, the one he hasn’t murdered. He kept insisting that we each have a duty to look out for each other and bind up the fraying bonds of society; not easy when you’re accused of knifing your bro’. Reporters refused to believe that everything is normal in the Miliband family. Why isn’t David in the shadow cabinet? “Totally unfair.” He just decided it wasn’t right for him, replied Grafter. Do they never talk any more, as a new biography claimed this week? No, ” we talk all the time”. Only the spoilsport Guardian asked (unhelpfully) about mere policy. Throughout the proceedings Grafter Ed waved his hands in an expressive and animated way which, under the TV lights, cast shadows on the white wall behind him. To a friendly audience it must have looked as if he was making bedtime rabbits on his kids’ bedroom wall. But to the hacks it looked like Eisenstein’s film about Ivan the Terrible, all shadowy conspirators queuing up behind Ed, plotting to do away with him. It said much for Ed’s inner confidence that he didn’t have the room searched in advance to make sure the other Miliband (or the other Ed) wasn’t hiding inside the podium with an axe. Ed Miliband Labour party leadership Labour Ed Balls Michael White guardian.co.uk