Jess Phillips doesn't look like patron saint of 'believe all women' to grooming victims

A Cabinet minister has been forced to apologise for the Government's botched handling of the national grooming gangs' inquiry. Four survivors have now walked away, fearing the probe is being quietly diluted to include other forms of child sexual abuse. But the person who really owes an apology is the woman leading it: Jess Phillips.

Yes, that Jess Phillips: Labour's straight-talking, no-nonsense Brummie, unafraid to say what others are too timid to say. A self-styled champion of women and girls; the patron saint of "believe all women". For years, she built a reputation as Westminster's conscience on violence against women - and a politician who actually cared.

Yet here she is, at the centre of an inquiry that survivors themselves are calling a cover-up, accused of misleading Parliament and publicly undermining one of the women she was meant to protect. The irony stinks to high heaven. The inquiry, meant to shine a light on decades of institutional failure, is instead exposing a newer kind of moral rot. And it's one dressed up in the language of progress.

Jess Phillips, the same woman who made a career out of demanding that we "believe women", is now presiding over an inquiry that's done the exact opposite. And the tragedy is that I once believed her. I thought her passion for women's safety was genuine. But, as ever, conviction in Labour's moral order comes with an asterisk. It's easy to "believe all women", until the women in question are working-class, white, northern, and brutalised by Pakistani-heritage grooming gangs. Suddenly, the slogans lose their sparkle.

Two of the four victims who have since resigned, Fiona Goddard and Ellie-Ann Reynolds, said the inquiry created a "toxic environment", that the process "felt like a cover-up," and officials used "condescending and controlling language". These are women who survived unimaginable abuse, only to relive the trauma of not being believed - this time by the very people tasked with securing justice.

Their frustration is justified. Phillips told Parliament that claims of broadening the inquiry's remit were "untrue". Yet leaked consultation papers asked participants whether the inquiry should take a "broader approach". Victims had even texted her about this. She denied it anyway. To be accused of lying by a government minister, when your entire teenage life was defined by being disbelieved, is the ultimate betrayal.

Phillips's defenders say she's in a difficult position, under pressure to balance sensitivity and political risk. But it's worth remembering that this is the same woman who faced heckling from pro-Gaza activists at her election count last year, and who narrowly avoided losing her own seat. I wonder how amenable her constituents would be to the idea of "believing all women".

Let's be honest: if the perpetrators at the heart of this inquiry had been white, posh boys from Chelsea rather than men of Pakistani heritage, Jess Phillips would've been all over it like a rash. There would be panels, documentaries, and tearful Commons statements about "toxic masculinity". But the moral calculus changes when racial optics get messy. Suddenly, the great feminist truth-teller starts tiptoeing around the facts.

The grooming gang crisis was never simply about race; it was about cowardice, denial, and class contempt. Thousands of vulnerable girls - poor, white, often from broken homes - were ignored by police and social workers, terrified of being labelled racist. That paralysis allowed predators to thrive. And now, with Phillips in charge, the cycle of disbelief is repeating itself under the banner of progressivism. It's as though institutional fear has been replaced by institutional spin.

To be clear, this isn't about political point-scoring. It's about accountability, and who really counts as a victim in modern Britain. Phillips once mocked the Tories for lacking empathy; yet here she is, accused of misleading Parliament and belittling survivors. She may not have dipped into donors' cookie jars or underpaid on her property taxes like some of her colleagues, but she's proving every bit as untrustworthy. Forget two-tier Keir. This is two-face Jess.

No one is really surprised, though. Keir Starmer, who smeared those demanding an inquiry as "jumping on the bandwagon of the far right", only authorised it because the political cost of ignoring it became untenable.

In the end, the survivors' exodus says it all. They wanted justice. They got bureaucracy. They wanted truth. They got Jess Phillips. Britain's grooming gang victims have spent decades being told to shut up for the sake of community cohesion. Now they're being told to smile for the sake of political optics.

If Phillips had an ounce of the integrity she once preached, she'd step down and let someone with genuine moral conviction lead this inquiry. Because right now, the only thing being laid bare is the hypocrisy of those who claim to care.