Disraeli knew that there was a place for robust rhetoric in Parliament debates

Has too much been made of the current controversy over what some deem to be intemperate language in the House of Commons?

Lesley Riddoch’s qualified plea to concentrate on the impact of policies rather than words is one I think we should all heed (Perspective, 30 September).

The safety of individual members of parliament was an issue long before last week’s outbursts in the chamber; the threats come from more complex matters than simply the way Prime Minister Boris Johnson chooses to express himself.

They include the growing gulf between public and politicians, the mental health of individuals, sometimes lax security in local offices and ignorance, not just about the European issue, but the race question.

The rhetoric on both sides may sometimes be heated – listening to it can never be used as an excuse for violence or killing and I personally doubt if it has done. As someone who has listened over the years to the rich rhetorical tradition of mining communities in Fife and throughout Scotland, I’m surprised that people should be so offended by terms like “surrender”, “betrayal”, and “traitor”.

Many people have been injured or killed by lax controls on health and safety at work, for example, rather than lax controls over what activists are allowed to say at meetings or rallies.

One concern about the furore involving the Prime Minister and opposition backbenchers is that there may be pressure to outlaw the calculated and often humorous parliamentary insult.

Benjamin Disraeli was once wished a future by an opponent that might involve either the gallows or a social disease. He replied that it would depend on whether he embraced either his opponent’s principles or his mistress.

Perhaps violent rhetoric for the time, but the stuff of which parliamentary toing and froing should be made.

BOB TAYLOR Shiel Court, Glenrothes