Order! Order!

Under the tenure of John Bercow, the role of Speaker of the House of Commons has come under the spotlight as seldom before

Why do we have a Speaker?

The office dates back to the 14th century: the Speaker was originally an agent of the Crown, driving the King’s business through the House of Commons. The job meant communicating the Commons’ opinions to the monarch. And that could be dangerous. Seven early Speakers were executed – hence the tradition of the new incumbent having to be dragged reluctantly to the Speaker’s chair. Today, the Speaker represents the Commons to the sovereign, rather than vice versa. In 1642, Speaker William Lenthall famously told King Charles I, when he tried to arrest five MPS in the Commons: “I have neither eyes to see nor tongue to speak in this place, but as the House is pleased to direct me, whose servant I am here.” But the Speaker’s independence from government wasn’t firmly established until the 18th century.

And what does the Speaker actually do?

The most important part of the role is chairing debates in the Commons chamber. Most Commons business is timetabled and controlled by the Government, but the Speaker has various crucial functions. MPS do not have the automatic right to speak; those wishing to do so must “catch the Speaker’s eye”, rising from their seats briefly once the previous MP has finished speaking. In practice, though, selection often follows a standard procedure (alternating government and opposition speeches, for instance). During debates, the Speaker can rule MPS out of order if they break the rules of the House: he or she can direct members to withdraw “unparliamentary” remarks, or even suspend, or “name”, them for grave misbehaviour. The Speaker also has the significant power to decide which amendments to bills or motions can be debated on – though again, this is guided by established conventions. He or she can also allow emergency debates and urgent questions, forcing ministers to the Despatch Box.

And is the Speaker meant to be entirely impartial?

Yes: since the 1830s, the convention has been that the position is above party – unlike in the US, where the equivalent role is highly partisan. On election, the new Speaker resigns from his or her political party and remains a constituency MP, but keeps well above the political fray. During later elections, he or she stands simply as “the Speaker seeking re-election”, usually unopposed by the other major parties. Speakers are meant to remain impartial even in retirement – usually going to the Lords as cross-benchers.

How is Bercow making waves?

The Washington Post recently described him as “a pint-sized disciplinarian... who is the most theatrical, sharp-tongued and proactive Speaker in modern times”. His bellows of “Or- der! Or- der!” and his florid language have caught the attention of the world: he likes to chide MPS for acting as “incorrigible delinquents”, and orders them not to “chunter from a sedentary position ineloquently and for no obvious benefit or purpose”. He has long been unpopular with many Tories, having gone on what he calls “a political journey of enlightenment” from right-wing Thatcherite to social liberal (see box): he was elected by the last Labour majority, in 2009. Yet recently he has been accused of changing the terms of the job.

How has he changed the job?

His predecessor Michael Martin had to step down during the expenses scandal, and Bercow has always cast himself as a reforming Speaker. He abandoned the traditional uniform of a black coat and gown in favour of a suit; set up a crèche; and has tried to reduce what he calls the “yobbery and public school twittishness” of the chamber. He has bolstered the power of the Commons to hold the government to account, by greatly increasing the number of urgent questions and emergency debates. Bercow is also something of a backbenchers’ champion: he is less guided by seniority than earlier Speakers, allowing newer members their say. He infuriated the Tories during the coalition government – one minister called him a “stupid, sanctimonious dwarf” – and survived a botched attempt to remove him. His latest term has, however, been even more controversial, thanks to Brexit.

What has been particularly controversial?

The most contentious moment turned on the dry issue of his power to choose amendments. Bercow took the decision on 9 January to allow a government Brexit business motion – a proposal to hold a vote – to be amended by the Tory Remainer Dominic Grieve. Business motions are never amended: the move was unprecedented, and was made, Bercow later admitted, against the advice of his clerks. Theresa May lost the vote on the amendment, as a result of which she was given only three days, instead of 21, to present a new plan to Parliament. Tory Brexiters were furious, and lined up to accuse him of bias. (Bercow has revealed that he voted Remain: his wife’s car, as has been noted in the Commons, displays a “bollocks to Brexit” sticker.) The usually combative Bercow was clearly rattled, saying

merely: “I will reflect on that.”

What was Bercow’s defence?

The best defence for Bercow’s action, suggested The Guardian’s Patrick Wintour, is that on Brexit, if Parliament makes no decision, then it will leave on a no-deal basis. Thus the Speaker is prepared to depart from normal precedent in order to force the Commons to make a decision – either to accept May’s deal or to take responsibility for a no-deal scenario. Even so, in the opinion of Vernon Bogdanor, the constitutional expert, Bercow has “damaged the role of the Speaker. Every other Speaker in living memory has been scrupulously neutral, never been accused of any partisanship. He is the first.” In making decisions about Brexit since, Bercow has cleaved to precedent. But the suspicion remains to many on the Right that the referee of the Commons has his own agenda.