The most puerile scenes I’ve ever witnessed – yet Bercow adored it
HOW symbolic that within hours of announcing that he is to vacate the job of Commons Speaker which he has performed with a shocking lack of impartiality, John Bercow presided over, arguably, the most puerile scenes in the modern history of Westminster.
Long into the night, Opposition MPs sang, chanted, tried to occupy the Speaker’s Chair and waved placards – while recording it all on their mobile phones.
It was like watching a gang of school-leavers, having raided the parental drinks cabinet, embarking on a farewell bender. And trendy Bercow, following his own tawdry example of valedictory showmanship, was more than happy to go along with it, egging them on with a pompous little speech saying that he ‘completely understood’ their behaviour.
Except, of course, this was so much worse. This was an orgy of contempt for Parliament which should be played on a loop as a reminder to voters whenever we finally get round to the next election.
In the middle, Black Rod – the Sovereign’s emissary – was booed and mocked like a pantomime villain.
Labour MP Lloyd Russell-Moyle had to be restrained by Commons staff as he made a theatrical attempt to block the Speaker’s departure for the Lords, as custom dictates come prorogation.
On his return, Bercow rounded off this night of shame by galloping through the Sovereign’s formal message of prorogation to the House in sarcastic ‘yeah, whatever’ teenage tones. He then reverted to being his most unctuous and ingratiating as he invited MPs to shake his hand.
From the Opposition benches, led by a back-slapping Jeremy Corbyn, they queued to simper and salute the self-styled ‘backbencher’s backstop’.
From the Government benches, there came not a soul. They had long ago left the Chamber to chants of ‘Shame on You!’ from Labour and the Scottish Nationalists.
And to think that these are the same MPs who not only failed to deliver the Government’s Brexit plan
three years after the referendum but also failed to come up with an alternative. Having spent several years as a parliamentary sketchwriter, I remember, during the final stages of the furious debate over the Maastricht Treaty to strengthen Brussels’ power, some bizarre scenes involving a top hat flying around the Chamber.
Under some ancient rules, any MP wishing to make a point of order during a division had to wear one of two collapsible opera hats kept in the Chamber for the purpose.
All utterly bizarre. But none of this came anywhere near the behaviour in the early hours of yesterday.
This descent to borderline yobbery has not happened overnight. The decline started with Tony Blair’s New Labour MPs in 1997.
Many arrived with a deep- seated belief Parliament was an extension of an Establishment men-only club with rules created by toffs for toffs.
Therefore anything archaic was ‘elitist’ while every modernising gesture was ‘good’.
Few would quarrel with changes such as those to make the parliamentary timetable more family-friendly. However, there was also a gradual relaxation of other rules.
For centuries, Parliament limited applause to the cry of ‘ hear, hear’. That rule slowly began to fall apart.
It began in 2007 with a luvvie-style send- off for a departing Tony Blair. There were further occasional outbursts which were usually slapped down by the Chair.
After the 2015 general election, Bercow came down firmly against the new crop of Scottish Nationalist MPs when they arrived at Westminster behaving like a game show audience.
‘The convention that we do not clap in this Chamber is very, very long established and widely respected,’ he barked. Now, however, that convention has been wholly abandoned.
Last week, the Opposition benches rose to clap a Sikh Labour backbencher during Prime Minister’s Questions when he accused Boris Johnson of ‘racism’ for that newspaper column likening the burka to a ‘letter box’. The Chair let it pass.
Now, how can Bercow or his successor complain when Tory MPs orchestrate a standing ovation for the next person to call Jeremy Corbyn an anti-Semite?
Worst of all is MPs’ undignified new habit of filming the Commons – with impunity. If any member of the public was caught doing this they would be thrown out.
In recent months, however, Speaker Bercow has decided that it is perfectly acceptable for MPs to flout their own law.
Look at the brazen tweet by Labour MP Danielle Rowley who was busy snapping away during yesterday’s Leftie slumber party. She said disingenuously: ‘I know you’re not meant to film in the Chamber, but everyone on the Opposition benches is singing and this moment was beautiful.’
DO these people have the faintest idea how self-indulgent and childish all this looks to the outside world? In their bubble of ‘yay, look at me’ self-righteousness, narcissistically lapping up the cheers of their own fanbase, they may feel that all this is perfectly principled rebellion.
Boris Johnson has committed ‘democratic outrage’, by proroguing Parliament, they argue, so why can’t we?
To call an extra six days of autumn conference season a ‘coup’ is absurd. Previous governments have prorogued Parliament for their own ends and a court of law has ruled that they may do so.
It may not be nice or pretty but it is politics. Similarly, there is nothing unparliamentary about rowdiness and rhetorical combat. It is part of Westminster’s robust tradition.
What we saw this week, however, is a new low; a debasement of British politics. The next time this wretched bunch all reconvene at Westminster will be for the Queen’s Speech.
It is the ultimate tradition, an historic pageant which goes to the heart of our democratic system.
If they want to play games with that, then they really are in the wrong place – as the electorate will no doubt remind them in due course.