Lindsay Razaq: Dishing out honours to cronies exposes David Cameron's true colours

David Cameron delivers his speech at the Conservative Party Annual Conference at the ICC in Birmingham (PA)

MOST MPs use their maiden speech in the House of Commons to talk about the honour of being elected to parliament.

The opportunity to serve one’s country is a privilege – and an even greater one for those who rise to the ranks of minister.

They have the chance to shape people’s lives for the better, to have a say in history.

I can’t imagine that Jimmy Chamberlin – best known as drummer with The Smashing Pumpkins – is regularly quoted in a political context. But he got it spot-on when he said: “It is an honour and a privilege to play music for a living, and I don’t take it for granted, not even for a second.”

Many politicians genuinely see their role in the same terms.

So why do people need to be honoured or rewarded with a peerage if the job in itself is such an honour?

After all, that’s what it boils down to. Those listed in David Cameron’s resignation honours were merely doing their jobs.

Some, notably Defence Secretary Michael Fallon, are still in post following Theresa May’s reshuffle.

He must be doubly chuffed – not only did he avoid the new Prime Minister’s guillotine, he is also to become a Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath.

Some – such as George Osborne – were paid handsomely, having had the good fortune to travel the world and witness first-hand things most people wouldn’t dare dream of.

Many will walk away set up for life thanks to the big black book of contacts established during their tenure.

Cameron was further accused of devaluing the honours system by proposing an OBE for Isabel Spearman, his wife Samantha’s stylist, while Will Straw, who oversaw the failed Remain campaign, was put forward for a CBE.

Where people go above and beyond, of course, there is no issue.

There will always be stand-out performers in every walk of life.

But Cameron didn’t choose a handful of names. His list was extensive, which has wound the public up.

That’s because handing out honours to cronies willy-nilly, like sweeties from a jar, does water down their value.

The system of honours, especially for political service, has long been mired in controversy, most notoriously in recent times during 2006’s cash for honours scandal.

Tony Blair subsequently announced he would no longer add to or remove from the list of recipients produced by the independent honours committee, although he would continue to recommend working peers.

Gordon Brown continued this approach, but in 2012 Cameron set up a new committee to recognise political service, indicating a change of attitude.

According to the House of Commons library, his list was the first released specifically on resignation since John Major, with only four retiring Prime Ministers doing so since 1963.

So, to describe the principle as “standard” – as the UK Government did in the wake of the leaked list – was somewhat misleading.

More importantly, just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.

With this parting gift, Cameron has shown his true colours.

The former Tory leader once again revealed how out of touch he was with the public – already appearent during the EU referendum campaign when he dismissed those intending to back the

Brexit vote as “little Englanders” who didn’t love Britain.

Jeremy Corbyn’s decision to nominate Shami Chakrabarti for a peerage deserved scrutiny too.

The Labour leader was criticised by his deputy for putting the head of the party’s anti-Semitism inquiry forward.

Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis said the credibility of Ms Chakrabarti’s report lay “in tatters”.

Chakrabarti’s record as a long-standing human rights campaigner is undisputed. But whichever way you look at her appointment to the Lords, it smacks of “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours”.

There’s been a little too much back-scratching this week for my liking.