Pomp, pageantry... and the SNP were spellbound
BLACK Rod has heard it all before. History buffs will tell you he’s been getting it in the neck from members of the lower house since 1642.
At recent State Openings of Parliament, it was veteran socialist MP Dennis Skinner who provided the jeers for the Lords usher who, down the centuries, has called MPs through to the upper chamber to hear what the Monarch had to say.
No need, surely, this time. Not in a Commons where all but three of the 59 Scottish seats are now occupied by seething Nationalists, each sporting a rebellious white rose in the lapel, each oozing contempt for the unelected red-robed elite in the Palace of Westminster’s posh chamber.
If they had their way the Lords would be evicted tomorrow. So would the Queen if you listen to some of the scarier ones. Aye, just wait and see whit the boy wi’ the rod is in fur this year.
At the appointed hour, TV cameras zoomed in on the present incumbent in the role, Lieutenant General David Leakey, as the Queen signalled she was ready for her MPs to be brought to her. Nervous? Maybe fearful was more like it, for Black Rod did not leave his spot.
Oh, come now Mr Rod, everyone knows the Nats’ bark is worse than their bite.
But no, the little pause was all part of the ancient pantomime in which our 56 Nationalist MPs now find themselves players. Tradition dictates that Black Rod must wait for the MPs to finish praying before disturbing them.
Was this really the activity newbie SNP members such as Natalie McGarry were engaged with at the time? Unlikely. ‘Wearing #whiterose & preparing to find out what right wing ideological cuts we have to oppose,’ she tweeted, moments before Black Rod’s knock came.’
Then, there he was, entering the
lions’ den in his splendidly ridiculous ceremonial garb, there to request the attendance of MPs in the Lords.
Had he not heard the words of Alex Salmond on election night less than three weeks ago, that the Scottish lion had roared?
By gosh, he was going to hear it roaring now. You could have heard a pin drop. But not a whimper.
On the bench where the SNP bloc has been fighting an increasingly unseemly territorial battle with Mr Skinner, the Nats sat motionless, rapt with the period drama unfolding before their eyes.
These archaic customs, the breeches, the tights, the ruffs, the maces, the swords, the horses and gilded carriages and the 3,000 jewel Imperial State Crown on the head of the Queen spoke for royal, governmental and constitutional practices stretching back centuries: traditions which the 56 MPs want to regard as the strutting pag- eantry of a foreign country. There were, then, surely no lumps in any SNP throat as, with perfect clarity and diction, Black Rod’s voice pierced the silence to declare: ‘Mr Speaker. The Queen commands this Honourable House to attend Her Majesty immediately in the House of Peers.’
And they were off. What a rush it was. It was almost as if the Nats were old hands, scurrying through the palace at pace to ensure at least some of the standing room behind the Prime Minister was SNP. Mr Salmond must have briefed them on the gig.
Certainly, he and SNP Westminster leader Angus Robertson were among the front runners. With their ‘little white roses’ pinned to their suits they looked more like lost wedding guests than senior politicians bent on dismantling the kingdom whose parliamentary spectacle they were rushing to see.
Piling in at the back, the taller ones may j ust have glimpsed another Scotsman at the front. Yes, wasn’t that Aberdeen lad Michael Gove all dressed up as the Lord Chancellor and taking the Queen’s Speech out of his ceremonial pouch to hand to the Sovereign?
Indeed, and Justice Secretary Mr Gove, clearly, is not a man for half measures in his pageantry. Offered the choice of trousers or breeches and tights, he plumped for costume over comfort.
How very different political life would have looked for him had he sought a seat instead in Scotland’s achingly modern, push-button parliament. No breeches there. No cloaks, people with rods or members of the Yeomen Warders with swords, lanterns and silly shoes.
How different too, if the SNP contingent had found gainful employment in Holyrood instead of this place, so steeped in history.
Yet, among the 56, only Mr Salmond and Glasgow North-East member Anne McLaughlin have held seats in both parliaments.
Watching the whole affair with BBC anchor Huw Edwards was Pete Wishart, a Nationalist MP since 2005 and a veteran of Queen’s Speeches. Asked what the newcomers in his party would make of such unashamed pomp, Mr Wishart said: ‘They’ll be thrilled to be there, I think.’
It was a surprising answer which hints at the great paradox of the party’s MPs. They are thrilled to be there – proud representatives for their nation in one of the world’s oldest and grandest parliaments, engrossed activists at its most eyecatching set piece. Yet, even as they settle in, they want out. Their brand of politics demands it.
Barely half an hour after Mr Gove handed the Queen her speech, Her Majesty and Prince Philip were back in the Diamond Jubilee state coach to return to Buckingham Palace. At the instant its wheels started turning the Royal Standard was lowered on the Victoria Tower flagstaff and the Union flag was raised. It was the Union flag, too, which lined the Mall. There was not a Saltire in sight.
Back in the Commons, Mr Skinner had not left his seat. His own republican protest to Black Rod’s request for MPs’ attendance was to remain where he was while the Nationalists deserted the disputed bench to see the Queen.
But the 83-year-old, dubbed the Beast of Bolsover for his brutal interventions, gave a poignant explanation for his uncharacteristic silence this year. It seems he was simply exhausted.
He told journalists: ‘I was engaged in an activity today to ensure that the Scot Nats weren’t going to take over that front bench.
‘You have to get up very early in the morning to do it. I was up at just after 6am.’