Showing posts with label Democracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Democracy. Show all posts

Thursday, 4 July 2024

One last heave by desperate PM

 

In his last-ditch attempt to ensure the success of Project Oblivion, the PM has apparently been sending out hourly tweets making increasingly fantastical claims about what Labour will do if they win, including the abolition of exams, the demolition of the green belt, and taxing people for driving their cars. About the only things he hasn’t so far accused Starmer of planning are the abolition of democracy and the installation of Starmer as PM for life. Which is something of a pity, because it takes much less deliberate misinterpretation of Starmer’s words to conclude that he wants to do both of those things.

Yesterday, Starmer told us that the UK will not rejoin the EU in his lifetime, one of the few definitive pledges he’s managed to give in a somewhat lacklustre campaign. Since no government can bind its successors, the only way he can deliver on that pledge is to remain in office until he dies. That, in turn, obviously means the abolition of democracy. It’s a silly extrapolation of a silly statement, of course – but no sillier than much of what Sunak has been saying about Labour’s plans.

But there is a real point here about democracy, and it doesn’t just apply to Starmer; it equally applies to Sunak (or whoever succeeds him as party leader). Ruling things out categorically clearly implies that public opinion has no role or place in decision-making. And nor is it just about the EU. Both parties have repeatedly made it clear for example that even if the SNP were to win every seat in Scotland on a manifesto pledging an independence referendum they would ‘never’ allow such a referendum to be held. They’ve gone further as well – they have claimed that a defeat for the SNP in today’s election, an outcome which is possible according to the polls, will kill the idea of independence for ever, as though those who argue for it have no right to continue promoting their views after a single electoral setback. It is a profoundly anti-democratic stance to take.

Whether the issue is the EU or Scottish independence, or whatever else, it is reasonable to suggest that the decision shouldn’t be revisited by an annual referendum, and to debate, in that case, how long is a reasonable period before re-assessing public opinion. It is not reasonable, and not the act of any democrat, to argue that it doesn’t matter what the public think (nor, in the case of Scotland, whether they vote for parties supporting such a proposition) and that the decision can and will be made by the PM of the day. It serves to underline how strongly both the main English parties are wedded to the idea of absolute sovereignty being vested in the crown-in-parliament rather than in the people. On the basis that you can’t abolish what you don’t have, they don’t really need to propose the abolition of democracy.

Thursday, 9 November 2023

The power of the hat

 

This week saw the official state opening of parliament. This is a strange ceremony which sees a posh bloke and his wife arrive in a horse-drawn carriage, with his magic hat following behind in a carriage of its own because, apparently, only three people are allowed to touch it (presumably in case the magic wears off or gets imparted to the wrong person). The procession is followed by people responsible for sweeping up the inevitable results of parading horses through the streets. When they get to parliament, the posh bloke sits in a posh seat, wearing his magic hat, and his wife sits in another slightly less posh seat deliberately placed at a lower level so that no-one ends up looking taller than the posh bloke himself. 

He then gets handed a speech, written on goatskin parchment which contains no trace of goat, which he is obliged to read out to an audience comprising as of right several hundred legislators who have not been elected to the role, including the hierarchy of a single sect of a single religion of only a part of the UK as well as a group which are only there because some ancestor or other did something or other which pleased one of the posh bloke’s ancestors. The officially humble elected legislators are summoned to attend whether they like it or not and forced to stand, which is not entirely strange to them because the legislature has never considered it necesary to provide enough seats for its members anway. The speech contains details of things that the government might or might not do during the next twelve months: there is no obligation on the government to do something just because they’ve forced the posh bloke to say that they would, and there is nothing to stop them doing things which they didn’t even tell the posh bloke about. It also contains party political propaganda which the posh bloke is obliged to read out whether he agrees with it or not.

Apparently, the UK’s so-called modern parliamentary democracy cannot operate without this pantomime being performed before each session. But who, in their right minds, would ever invent a process which placed such a dependency on the alleged powers of that magic hat?

Wednesday, 5 October 2022

Lexicographical crime

 

Yesterday, the new empathy-challenged Home Secretary, chosen for the job on the basis that her predecessor, Priti Patel, was simply not nasty enough, claimed that those Tory MPs who had ‘forced’ the government to abandon part of its proposed largesse towards the richest, had staged some sort of ‘coup’ against the elected government of the UK. Her definition of a ‘coup’, which is that MPs had threatened not to vote for a policy which they did not support and which formed no part of their manifesto at the last election probably constitutes some sort of crime against lexicography, but using a different dictionary than the rest of us, and defining words to mean exactly what they want them to mean (well, perhaps not exactly; exactitude is another missing attribute amongst the current government) is far from being the biggest problem with her statement. Within the normal meaning of the word coup, the overthrow of one government and its replacement by another, there has indeed been a coup, but it’s the one which took place a few months ago under which the Tory Party deposed one clueless leader in order to give itself free rein to find someone even more clueless, which is, I suppose, at least one task they’ve managed to complete successfully.

The bigger problem is that, under the UK’s unwritten constitution, and despite the way the media cover and present elections, we do not elect (and never have elected) governments, parties, or Prime Ministers. The only thing we are allowed to elect is a member of parliament for the constituency in which we live; once elected, he or she is free to support whatever policies, parties, or leaders he or she might choose, regardless of any pledges which might have mistakenly appeared on his or her election material. The result is that we now have a government whose leader was chosen by a vanishingly small proportion of the electorate as a whole which is following a programme which is significantly different from what the same people promised in 2019. And it’s all entirely legal and above board. There may be a few deranged members of the governing party who inexplicably consider that they might have some sort of duty to stand by what they said only three years ago – the ones who Braverman accuses of being coupists – but seen from the bunker in Downing Street, these people are little better than traitors, reneging on the only responsibility they have, which is to do as they are told.

What the rest of us need to remember is that this ability to replace a government with a wholly different one, committed to a completely different political direction, isn’t a bug in the UK’s constitution, it’s a feature of it. There has been an entirely legal coup; this is the way things are supposed to work. The PM is appointed by the monarch, not elected by the people, and once appointed is free to do almost anything he or she wishes, subject only to having a sufficiently servile bunch of MPs for those changes which require legislation, which is far from being all of them. The ‘solution’ is not just to hold a new election. That might defer the problem until halfway through the next parliament, or the one after that, but it doesn’t solve it. And since the only solution for the UK as a whole involves persuading turkeys to vote for Christmas, the only way out is to escape from the turkey farm and ensure that independent states in Wales and Scotland start life with proper written constitutions, fair electoral systems, and a recognition that sovereignty belongs to the people not the monarch. We could call it something novel and exciting, like perhaps ‘democracy’.

Friday, 23 September 2022

Games, not answers

 

There is an old joke from the Soviet era that workers used to say “We pretend to work, and they pretend to pay us”. It tells us something about the economic processes of that time and place. The UK has its very own equivalent, and it’s found in Westminster where it’s known as ‘Question Time’, or, in its grandest form where the Prime Minister him or herself is the subject, ‘Prime Minister’s Questions’. Sometimes, the same process is repeated after a ministerial statement, a difference of nomenclature rather than substance. More of a game than the process of enlightenment which any of those names suggests, the objective is for the opposition to pretend to ask questions (whilst actually trying to make a political point), whilst the relevant minister pretends to answer them (whilst actually attacking the questioner, his or her party, and any bystanders who might be easy game). In a functional democracy, it would have been abandoned years ago as being utterly unfit for purpose, but that initial caveat rules out any prospect of abolition for the foreseeable future.

Yesterday, it was Jake’s turn to take questions on the subject of fracking. Faced with a fairly simple and straightforward question from Plaid’s Hywel Williams (“will the Secretary of State confirm that licencing powers on fracking remain with our Senedd, and that he has no intention of trying to return those powers to Westminster?”) he could have chosen to give a really simple, one word answer, ‘yes’. That would be cheating, though; the rules of the game require that he must never give a straight answer. Instead, he chose to say, “I am not seeking to upset the devolution settlement”, a response which could have at least three different interpretations. The first is the way in which it has been widely interpreted – simply a verbose way of saying ‘yes’. The second is that he means ‘no, and using parliament’s powers to over-ride those of the Senedd does not upset the devolution settlement because the right to do so is part of that settlement’. And the third is ‘no, I don’t want to merely upset the devolution settlement, I want to tear it up’. I don’t know what he actually meant – but then, we’re not supposed to – but on the basis of his record and that of the current government, the first of those somehow seems the least likely.

He was similarly evasive when it came to how the government was planning to honour the commitment given by Truss just a few weeks ago that fracking in England would only go ahead with local consent. All he could say was that it comes down to money and is up to the companies wanting to undertake fracking to offer sufficiently large sums of money to communities (or those individuals in them deemed to be most negatively impacted) to ensure that there is only minimal opposition. Who decides what is sufficient and how much opposition remains was left deliberately unanswered, but the suspicion must surely be that he, Jacob Rees-Mogg, will decide. It certainly won’t be determined by any democratic process on the ground (making it, stunningly, even less democratic than the Russian approach to referendums, which involves sending armed men door to door demanding that people complete the ballot papers under their gaze). In a strange way, we should probably welcome his statement. Formalising the fact that bribery is a key part of the way the current government takes decisions, and is much more important than any type of democratic vote, is a rare display of honesty, even if that might not have been entirely intentional.  

Thursday, 2 June 2022

Of dogs and mice

 

Imagine, for a moment, working in an environment where the boss is a vicious and vindictive bully, always placing his own needs above those of all others. Imagine an anonymous complaints system under which the boss positions spies outside the complaints office to record the names of anyone entering, and where you can’t trust the complaints manager not to reveal your name to the boss. Imagine being unsure whether you can even trust one of your less timid colleagues to deliver the complaint on your behalf. Imagine being too frightened to talk to your colleagues in the corridor or by the water dispenser for fear that one of them will report every word you say to the boss. Imagine the boss’s spies looking into every aspect of your everyday life, noting down anything incriminating for use against you at a later date.

This may sound a bit like living in the Soviet Union under Stalin, or the way the Stasi used to operate in East Germany, but it is actually the daily life experience of the mice who cower in terror on the Tory backbenches in Westminster. Paid in excess of £80,000 a year to use what passes for their knowledge, experience and ability to represent the people who elected them, it turns out that many of them are too terrified of the boss (or the Big Dog as he apparently prefers to be known) to speak out of turn or express an independent opinion which might in any way reflect badly on the Big Dog. The hound’s spies are everywhere. Emails may be intercepted and passed on and, in an echo of his own favourite era, even the walls are assumed to be in possession of ears.

Tory MPs are proud to refer to themselves as the world’s most sophisticated electorate, but it’s just another of their ‘world-beating’ fictions. No matter how hard I look, neither my thesaurus nor any other sources to which I’ve referred draw any synonymity between ‘sophisticated’ on the one hand and ‘duplicitous’, ‘devious’, and ‘dishonest’ on the other. But when ‘sophisticated’ is used as a euphemism for all of those, it’s surprising that they want to take so much pride in it. One of the few certainties in life is that if Johnson is brought down, the number of Tory MPs claiming to have voted for that outcome will be significantly higher than the number of votes of no confidence recorded by the returning officer, and if he wins the vote, the number admitting to having voted against him will be a lot lower than the number of votes recorded. As the old saying goes, success has many fathers, but failure is a bastard.

It ought to surprise us that they are such a timid bunch; it ought to surprise us even more that the electorate can be so easily persuaded to vote for mice. We take far too much about our political system for granted. That merely empowers the big dogs of this world – and breeds more mice.

Friday, 12 November 2021

The Tories support only their own version of democracy

 

There have been plenty of studies over the years which show the correlation between the probability that people will register to vote and then turn out to do so on the one hand, and relative poverty or wealth on the other. There is no doubt that relative affluence corresponds to an increased likelihood of voting. By the same token, that correlation is reflected in the support for different parties – parties which draw support from the more affluent citizens benefit directly from the differing propensity to vote – and a lower overall turnout thus works to their advantage. Those few simple facts of life are all that is required to understand why the Tories in the UK are so keen to make it harder for people to vote; their insistence on presenting ID will have a disproportionate negative impact on the support of their opponents.

Conversely, of course, making it easier for people to vote potentially damages the Conservatives; increasing the turnout will disproportionately benefit their opponents. It’s easy to see, therefore, why the Tories have turned their faux outrage blasters to the maximum setting to attack the experiments being proposed by the Welsh Government for next year’s council elections. However, in accusing the Welsh Government of deliberately choosing Labour areas in which to run the experiments they have not only ignored the basic facts of the selection process (that all council areas were given the opportunity, but only some responded) they have also spectacularly failed to understand the electoral dynamics referred to above. If I wanted to give Labour a chance to win more councils by making it easier for people to vote in carefully selected areas, I wouldn’t select areas where Labour is already the dominant party. I’d select areas like Monmouth or the Vale of Glamorgan, where an increase in non-Tory votes might be enough to dislodge a few Tory councillors; I wouldn’t be trying to just stack up even larger majorities for Labour in existing strongholds. If this is, as the Tories claim, a sneaky attempt by Labour to give themselves an unfair advantage, then Labour would be staggeringly incompetent as vote-riggers.

The underlying attitude of the Tories is revealing – when encouraging more people to take part in the democratic process by making it easier to vote is regarded as being some form of cheating, it’s reasonable to ask to what extent the Welsh Tories believe in democracy at all. But then, looking to their masters in London, I think we already know the answer to that. Back in the 1970s, it was Dafydd Iwan who sang “Rwy’n credu mewn democratiaeth – fy nemocratiaeth i”. I somehow doubt that he intended it as an instruction manual for the Tories.

Thursday, 28 October 2021

Talking to the hand

 

Whether the pre-budget announcements of all the bits that the Chancellor thought would be well-received was a brilliant idea or a case of foot-shooting is yet to become entirely clear. The planned outcome was that there was a week of ‘good news’ stories leading up to the budget itself yesterday. On the other hand, it meant that, instead of unravelling in the day or two following the budget (a process which has become something of a tradition for Tory Chancellors in recent years) parts of it started to unravel before they’d even been properly announced, such as the revelation that an end to the public sector pay freeze doesn’t necessarily mean that anyone will get a real terms pay rise at all. It also, of course, took some of the pressure off the opposition leader, or in yesterday’s case, his substitute. Normally, they are given only hours to prepare a response; Sunak kindly extended that to days, and Labour did a reasonable job of taking advantage of that.

The Speaker of the House of Commons and his deputy were left to express their ire at the breach of protocol, both in the days ahead of the budget and on the day itself. The Speaker’s warning a few days ago drew the response from Downing Street that the government “recognised the importance of keeping parliament and the public informed when decisions are taken”. The Chancellor proceeded to carry on regardless. The Deputy Speaker’s rebuke to Sunak before the Chancellor started speaking led the Chancellor to say, “Madam Deputy Speaker I’ve heard your words and those of Mr Speaker. I have the greatest respect for you both. And I want to assure you that I have listened very carefully to what you have said”. They both sounded a lot like “Talk to the hand, because the face ain’t listening” to me. The whole episode underlines one of the problems of a set of ‘rules’ which aren’t rules at all in any meaningful sense of the word. They’re just conventions, protocols, long-standing custom and practice; an unscrupulous government with no respect for norms can and does ignore them with impunity. The Speaker, selected very much for his indications in advance that he would not attempt to be as creative or imaginative as his immediate predecessor in seeking to protect the rights of parliament, turns out to have neutered himself. He is a toothless tiger.

Similar thoughts crossed my mind when David Attenborough said earlier this week that we have a “moral responsibility” to act on climate change. It’s hard to disagree, but when dealing with a PM and government to whom the words ‘morality’ and ‘responsibility’ only ever apply to other people (and then only if they can apply their own ego-centric definitions), he is simply wasting his breath. The English constitution and parliamentary system are broken, and badly so. Their operation has always been dependent on the invalid assumption that those in power would be ‘decent chaps’ for whom the unwritten rules were as important (if not more so) than the formal, written ones. It’s never actually been true, but it takes a special degree of amorality and self-interest to expose the extent of that. I suppose that’s one thing for which we should be, at least slightly, grateful to Johnson. The question, though, is what is the mechanism for changing it? As long as a sufficient proportion of English voters (a majority is not required) continue to accept – or even positively welcome – a government which plays to their prejudices, even if it ignores the rules on which democracy is based, there is no mechanism for changing it at UK level. That doesn’t need to be the case for Wales or Scotland, though – we have a practical and readily available escape route if we choose to use it. The problem with England’s descent into autocracy, kleptocracy, tyranny, and international piracy is that it is happening one step at a time, and it is always possible to argue that none of the individual steps is significant enough to warrant action. But each step (removing the right to protest and reclaiming devolved powers for London are obvious examples) actually makes it harder to act. Mankind has been here before though; if we learn anything from history it is that it is better to act while we can than be swept along until we can’t. The to date distant prospect of independence needs to become an urgent imperative, before it’s too late.

Monday, 6 September 2021

Falling bridges

 

It is not entirely unreasonable for someone to be making plans for the death of a 95 year old woman, particularly if that woman just happens to be the head of state. And whatever one might think about the way in which the UK’s head of state is chosen, it’s not unreasonable to suppose that the various parliaments within the UK might decide, when the death is announced, that they will suspend their deliberations for a period as a mark of respect. It seems, though, according to the plans leaked last week, that it will not be up to them; it has already been decided by someone in London that that will happen without waiting for those parliaments to decide for themselves. The exquisitely Ruritanian exception, apparently, is that in the event that the UK Parliament finds itself in recess at the time, it will be recalled in order to adjourn itself. It has also already been decided that on the seventh day after the death, the Senedd will pass a motion of condolence and the new king will travel to Cardiff to receive it. Whether any of the elected members have any say on any of this is a question answered only by the fact that no other possibility seems to have been considered. However reasonable the proposed actions might be in themselves, there seems to be a certain detachment from the idea of democracy here.

In order that no-one eavesdropping on any Prime Ministerial conversations understands what has happened in the few minutes before an official newsflash makes the actual public announcement, the PM will be given the message in code, being told merely that “London Bridge is down”. Presumably, now that this particular code has been broadcast to the world, the civil servants will have to come up with a new code phrase instead. How can they choose a suitable phrase allowing the secret to be maintained for a whole ten minutes - and, more relevantly, why on earth does anyone think that it needs to be?

My favourite bit of all, though, came in the Guardian’s report on the same story which tells us that one of the big concerns of those writing the plans is the “potential for public anger if Downing Street cannot lower its flags to half-mast within 10 minutes of the announcement since there is no ‘flag officer’”. Perhaps I’m underestimating the degree to which the reality at the time will match the pre-scripted outpouring of official grief, but I’m struggling to believe that people will take to the streets (or even just write cross letters to the newspapers) protesting at the absence of a designated flag-lowering person in Downing Street if it means that a whole eleven minutes passes between the announcement and the lowering of the flag. Or could it just possibly be that those drawing up the plans have ever-so-slightly lost the plot?


Tuesday, 29 December 2020

Playing games

 

One of the favourite games played by opposition parties in the House of Commons is to attack other opposition parties by accusing them of voting against something they’ve previously claimed to support or voting ‘with the Tories’. Labour’s apparent policy of abstaining on any opposition motion not proposed by themselves makes them an easy target for accusations of being unwilling to vote for what they claim to support. It’s a simple way for another opposition party to generate a tweet or two, repeated and amplified by supporters on social media, but whether it has much impact on voter opinion is another question entirely. It’s probably more confirmatory than an influential agent of change.

It’s underpinned by a parliamentary system which is unfit for purpose in the contemporary world, whose business is largely set and constrained by the executive arm of government, and which reduces everything to a simple question of ‘ayes’ and ‘noes’ (the word ‘yes’ being a tad too modern for the honourable members to cope with). We will have a classic example of this tomorrow when parliament is due to vote on the government’s comprehensive plan to erect new trade barriers with the EU. The issue is a complex one, but will be presented (and voted on) as a simple matter of ‘this deal or no deal’. There are, though, many opposition members who believe that the best answer is ‘neither’ (Tory MPs who share that view having largely been purged by Johnson last year). Abstention is an option, but there is no way of distinguishing between an abstention as a way of saying neither and abstention as a way of expressing apathy or indifference. And abstention will always be presented by others as being a cop-out.

I don’t envy the MPs who have to make a call on this tomorrow. The Johnson deal is clearly better (for which read ‘less bad’) than no deal, but voting for the deal means aiding and abetting the biggest assault on freedom of movement, freedom of trade and international co-operation which has been seen in generations. Labour’s opposition to a no deal seems likely to drive them to support what will become, as a result, a Labour-Tory Brexit, something of which others will no doubt constantly remind them as the consequences become clearer in coming months and years. The SNP seem determined to vote against, given that Scotland clearly voted against any sort of Brexit. It’s a brave stance, which others will no doubt use to accuse them of supporting a no deal exit. Those who decide to abstain will, for years to come, be accused of not being able to take a clear position on one of the most important votes in decades. The detail and the principles involved will rapidly be lost in the fog of propaganda.

It would be comforting to think that all this might propel at least some of them to start thinking about parliamentary reform, not least in finding ways to record the nuances of different positions in the final decisions taken. If ‘taking back control’ meant anything at all, it would surely mean strengthening parliamentary democracy, yet the whole Brexit process has shown how weak and ineffective a legislature which is subordinate to the executive can be. It can’t even set its own agenda. There is little cause for optimism, however. The honourable members are too comfortable playing their games within the constraints set for them, and besides, the main opposition party clings to the belief that it will be their turn to govern eventually, and the last thing they would want to deal with is a powerful and effective legislature. They fully deserve their share of the blame for what is about to happen.

Thursday, 1 October 2020

Patriotism, scoundrels, and rule-breakers

 

In his attempt to explain, during PMs Questions last week, why it was that other countries have both a lower death rate from Covid-19 and fewer restrictions, the PM came up with an absolute classic example of the English exceptionalism which is proving so damaging to the whole of the UK. He said, “Actually, there is an important difference between our country and many other countries around the world: our country is a freedom-loving country. If we look at the history of this country over the past 300 years, virtually every advance, from free speech to democracy, has come from this country. It is very difficult to ask the British population uniformly to obey guidelines in the way that is necessary”. I’m not sure which is worse – the possibility that he actually believes any of this, or the possibility that he knows it to be absolute guff and says it anyway.

It is one of the problems of a certain kind of nationalism that those nationalists have a desperate need to believe that their nation is in some way ‘better’ than other nations; claiming that ‘we’ invented virtually everything of value plays to that. I wouldn’t argue against the proposition that the UK has been the home of people – both native-born and immigrants – who have been responsible for a number of major advances (more than average for a country of its size, even) in a range of fields, including science, technology and political philosophy, but most advances are the result of a process of collaboration and synthesis of work done in many places. Ideas feed off each other. However, conflating the genius of particular individuals who happen to reside in one place with the characteristics of a nation is a nonsense – and a dangerous nonsense at that.

To take one specific of his claim, the idea that a state more than half of whose parliamentarians hold their position due to heredity, religious affiliation, or appointment rather than election, and where a governing party can gain an overall majority on around 30-35% of the vote, can be regarded as the ‘inventor’ of democracy is laughable. At best it requires a strange definition of democracy; at worst it’s a deliberate attempt to mislead.

To turn to the more immediately relevant specific, the idea that ‘the British’ love their freedom so much that they can’t be made to follow rules sounds like an attempt to project his own attitude onto the population at large. He certainly has some difficulty getting his own family and advisors to follow rules, but – despite such application of double standards – most of the population were willing, for an extended period, to follow the rules laid down.

He may, though, have accidentally stumbled upon a key point, even if it isn’t the one he thinks it is. There is indeed a key difference between the UK and most of the rest of Europe, and it’s about social solidarity. One of the key elements in getting a population to follow advice willingly and collectively is that they should believe that it is for the common good. That works better in much of Europe that it does here, because in the UK the Tories (aided and abetted by New Labour) have spent four decades promulgating the idea that there is no ‘common good’. People, they have argued, should put their own interests first and look after themselves rather than expecting the state to look after them. Competition, they have told us, is good – there must always be winners and losers, and the losers have only themselves to blame. The problem is not, as Johnson effectively says, that people in the UK (and he largely means England here, of course) are too fond of their freedom to follow rules, it is that they have been drip fed an ideology (by Johnson and his ilk) which encourages them always to ignore the needs of others and pursue their own selfish interests. Against that background, the surprise is not that some have not been following the rules, but that so many have done so.

Tuesday, 4 August 2020

Where's the Praetorian Guard when it's needed?


Caligula, the third emperor of Rome, never actually appointed his horse to the Senate, despite the popular myth. He certainly wanted to, and fully intended to, but he was assassinated by the Praetorian Guard before he could implement his plan. The historical record suggests that it wasn’t so much that he believed that the horse would be particularly good at the job, it was more about showing that he had the power to appoint it, and that no-one could stop him. It wasn’t his only foible – he also spent huge sums of the empire’s money on building projects, some of which were useful and others merely bizarre, like the 3 mile floating bridge which he ordered to be built from impounded merchant vessels weighted down with sand and tied together across the Bay of Bauli so that he could gallop back and forth across it. It seems that his reign started comparatively normally but after just a few months in the job he suffered a serious illness which left him unhinged and he spent the rest of his life displaying his worst tendencies, including outright cruelty to others (including members of the Senate) and a series of brazen affairs. It was during that latter period that he became famous for the phrase “Remember that I have the right to do anything to anybody”. In an empire with a lack of checks and balances, he did things simply because he could do them and get away with them.
History never precisely repeats itself, but there are often parallels. Appointing a brother and a whole batch of cronies to the House of Lords isn’t the same as appointing a horse to the Senate, for instance, although the bits about impractical bridges and brazen affairs do strike a certain chord. Suffering a serious illness after a few months in post also rings a bell, although I wouldn’t argue that Covid-19 was responsible for the PM’s unhinging, not least because the evidence for a fully hinged prior state is somewhat lacking. But the most obvious parallel is the apparently untrammelled power to appoint whoever he wishes to the legislature, whether they’re suitable or not, with little control over the process. The parallel which is so far sadly missing is the presence of a Praetorian Guard, even if, in these more enlightened times, a political rather than a literal assassination would suffice.

Tuesday, 21 April 2020

Restricting liberties


In parts of the USA, people are gathering in crowds with guns demanding an end to the lockdown, while the President encourages them in pursuit of his own re-election. Leaving aside the way in which the standard US response to most things seems to be ‘more guns’, it would be easier to understand the protests, to an extent at least, if they were because of the hardship that the lockdown is causing. One key difference which marks out the US is that it is a lot harsher on individuals who are unable to work than the UK, let alone the European mainstream. But that isn’t the protesters’ motivation – for them, this is about their inalienable right to ‘freedom’, including, apparently, the freedom to catch the virus. As one protester put it, “Even if the virus were 10 times as dangerous as it is, I still wouldn’t stay inside my home. I’d rather take the risk and be a free person”.
It raised a question in my mind, though: if they do get infected and die as a result of such gatherings, should the cause of death really be recorded as being COVID-19? Might not accidental suicide or even insanity be a better description? Or, given the way in which they’re being egged on by the man himself, maybe unlawful killing or even murder might be more appropriate? I’m not the first to suggest that charges of murder should be brought against politicians whose incompetence has increased the number of preventable deaths.
It isn’t really a matter for levity, of course, and the protesters have a point to the extent that actions being taken do indeed limit their ‘freedom’, although describing it as ‘house arrest for the healthy’ seems a bit extreme. There are those in the UK who feel the same way about the restrictions on freedom, although, fortunately, very few of them believe that the answer is more guns. Isn’t taking their own decisions about what level of risk to run at least a part of the reasoning of those who break restrictions? Putting it down to simple selfishness is a dismissive and judgemental response, which ignores and devalues alternative views.
There is always a balance when considering individual freedom; it can never be as absolute as the gun-toting protesters seem to be demanding. Extending an individual’s freedom in ways which potentially damage the lives or liberty of others crosses a line. That is, ultimately, why murder is considered a crime. Applying that principle – limiting the freedom of some to protect others – isn’t always straightforward, though; and it isn’t always obvious how one’s own behaviour might harm others. To use one recent example, if one person sunbathes in a park, it poses little risk to anyone else, but if thousands do so the risk increases rapidly. A decision which is risk-free to one individual who takes it becomes very risky if everyone else takes the same decision. The real issue isn’t the risk to those who decide to take it, even if they make that considered decision after carefully weighing up all the factors – it is the extent to which they have the right to pose a risk to others, including the health workers who would have to treat them.
I remain broadly supportive of the restrictions being imposed by governments, and that seems to be true for most people as things stand. I’m conscious, however, that there are valid concerns about the freedoms being lost – and deeply troubled about the way in which authoritarianism so readily takes root in people’s minds. Rational debate is not aided by governments – like that in the UK – which start from the assumption that weighing up arguments is too difficult for the plebs, who just need to be told what to do. Treating people like adults and explaining the choices is just one more area in which the UK could learn something from the German government. Democracy is about involvement and engagement, not just electing people to issue orders.

Monday, 30 September 2019

Misdirected anger


The attempts by the PM and those around him to play up the possibility of riot and disorder unless the UK leaves the EU on 31st October are clearly entirely deliberate.  Making anger more widespread and turning it into street action is an unconventional ploy to say the least, and one which is potentially very dangerous.  But the way that they are now framing Brexit no longer has anything to do with the supposed benefits, and everything to do with the alleged frustration of democracy.  And I can understand why people will be angry that having been asked to vote on something and having given their opinion, the promised outcome has not yet been delivered.  A degree of anger is justified, but things are more complicated than that.  (And it isn’t one-sided either – Remainers are also entitled to feel a sense of anger that the result was, in any event, achieved on the basis of a false prospectus, something which would be illegal when selling anything other than politics.)
What exactly are they angry about?  It’s true that the majority (a minority of the electorate, for sure, but under the rules of the game, a majority of those voting is what counts) voted to leave the EU, but there was nothing on the ballot paper which defined either how or when the UK would leave.  Those questions were implicitly left to parliament to decide, and to date parliament has been unable to reach an agreement on them.  In that regard, parliament is simply a reflection of the wider populace – there is no consensus about the how or the when.  Anger expressed as being about ‘denial of democracy’ is really anger about the refusal of the majority to accept that the minority have the right to determine answers to questions about timing and method which the referendum didn’t even ask.
In terms of who is to blame for parliament’s failure to agree, well, like everything else associated with Brexit, the buck ultimately stops with the Conservative Party.  Had Theresa May made any attempt to seek consensus around a Brexit negotiating position at the start of her premiership, I rather suspect that the UK would have left by now, on the sort of terms which the Brexiteers themselves talked about during the referendum campaign, i.e. a close relationship probably involving continued participation in the single market and Customs Union whilst being outside the political structures.  The Tory extremists would have voted against, of course; but if such a path had been adopted in the immediate aftermath of the referendum, enough opposition MPs would probably have felt bound by the referendum to deliver such an outcome.  She decided, however, that maintaining the unity of her party was more important and laid down a series of red lines which stemmed primarily from that consideration rather than from the result of the referendum per se.  From that point on, whether Brexit would be delivered or not depended entirely on her ability to convince her own side and, as we’ve seen, depending on Theresa May’s ability to do something isn’t exactly a recipe for success. 
Part of the dishonesty of the current PM and his government is that they are seeking to blame the opposition, the judges, the EU – anyone and everyone except the real culprit here, namely a disunited governing party.  And in the process, they are diverting the anger away from those who made a sensible Brexit (to the extent that there is such a thing) impossible, and on to those who would have been willing to deliver a more consensual outcome. 
There is another element to the dishonesty as well, which is the assumption that anger is to be found only on one side of the debate.  Unless they are arguing that Leave supporters are uniquely prone to anger and to expressing that anger through violence (which would be quite an admission in itself), their talk of riots and disorder ignores the possibility that the same degree of anger could end up being expressed by the other side if some of the worst scenarios arise.  What makes them think that some people’s anger at having their votes ‘stolen’ from them would be greater than other people’s anger at not being able to get medicines, losing their jobs and incomes, or losing future opportunities?  Implicit in their current approach is the idea that one sort of anger from one side in the debate has more legitimacy that any other sort of anger and is more likely to be expressed in street violence.  That latter part is in serious danger of becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy, especially when whipped up by wild talk from irresponsible politicians.
There’s another disturbing aspect to this as well.  Even supposing that Leavers’ anger is more justified than that of Remainers, and even supposing that Leavers’ anger is more likely to be expressed violently (both of which are core to the threats emanating from Downing Street), when did it become a tenet of UK politics that the politicians must do what the mob demand, when they demand it?  Yet that’s what threats of riots and disorder amount to.
Stripping aside the rhetoric, the situation in which we find ourselves is remarkably simple to understand.  A majority voted to leave but left parliament to determine the date and terms of that departure.  Parliament has so far agreed three different dates but has been utterly unable to agree the terms.  The solution to that quandary isn’t to call for riots, it is either to elect a new parliament or else to hold another vote.  The first of those looks unlikely to resolve much (a hung parliament remains far and away the likeliest outcome), but either is easily achievable.  However, both require a delay in the departure date.  The real obstacles to progress on either are an obstinate PM who refuses to contemplate any delay and a divided opposition, some of whom seem to be more concerned about which individual should become temporary PM than about resolving the issue.  That's where the anger - on both sides - should more properly be directed.

Thursday, 29 August 2019

The arcane and the bizarre


Responding to the move to prorogue parliament yesterday, the Speaker denounced it as a “constitutional outrage”.  The Leader of the House of Commons, Jacob Rees-Mogg responded on BBC Breakfast this morning by saying that, “It is not constitutional for the speaker to express his opinion without direction of the house”.  It’s like a game of constitutional trumps.  They’re both right – and they’re both wrong.  Both are highlighting instances of actions which are, in one way or another, outside the norms of UK parliamentary process, but in a country whose constitution is unwritten and depends totally on precedent, nothing can ever, in strict terms, be ‘unconstitutional’.
The idea of ‘precedent’ assumes that little can ever change, and that the action to be taken in any given set of circumstances must be exactly the same as taken the last time those circumstances arose.  If the circumstances are unique (as, in reality, they always are), then the action to be taken must mirror as closely as possible the action taken in the most closely similar circumstances in the past.  It’s a recipe for superficial ossification, and in the absence of any real objective basis for deciding which is the closest historical parallel, for making things up as we go along.  And I’m really not sure which is worse – the de jure constitutional position that we always do whatever we did in the past, or the de facto constitutional position that we simply make up the rules as we go.  Neither seems compatible with a modern ‘democracy’, let alone one which its fans consider to be a model for the rest of the world to follow.
It’s not the only thing which is incompatible with a modern democracy, and if Brexit has served any purpose at all, it has been in exposing the inadequacies (or lunacies, more like) of the current system.  We’ve had two other examples this week alone.
The first was the suggestion that the solution to a situation where the PM of the day disagrees with majority opinion in a parliamentary chamber which is already hopelessly over-populated with unelected appointees, hereditaries and bishops is to simply find a lot more people who agree with him and appoint them as additional parliamentarians so that he can get his way.  Is there any other country in the world, with serious aspirations to call itself a democracy, in which the membership of one of its two chambers of parliament is completely unelected and where the government of the day can ‘adjust’ the membership so as to give itself a majority?
The second was yesterday’s news that the Privy Council had met with the monarch and advised her to prorogue parliament, advice which she then accepted.  It’s true that 3 members of the Privy Council flew up to Balmoral to impart their advice, and that, under the unwritten constitution of the UK, that amounts to a ‘meeting of the Privy Council’.  There are, though, around 700 members of the Privy Council, and we can safely assume that at least 650 of those didn’t even know that there was going to be a meeting yesterday.  And under the rules under which the Council operates, they didn’t need to know.  A ‘meeting’ of the Council need not consist of more than a few members, hand-picked by the PM of the day, sent to convey his views to the monarch.  It’s a complete anachronism, like so much else about the UK’s system of ‘democracy’.
The more Brexit teaches us about the UK’s definition of ‘democracy’, the more I find myself wondering whether the UK has ever really complied with the spirit of the EU’s charter on the rule of law, which is supposedly a fundamental requirement of membership (and which may now be used against the UK).  I’d like to think that current events might provoke more people into recognising that we need a proper written constitution which lays down processes and procedures to be followed, but I’m not going to hold my breath.  Regularising the arcane and bizarre is, though, a clear advantage to Welsh independence.  It is inconceivable that a new Welsh state would be so stupid as to follow the processes of the so-called ‘mother of parliaments’, isn’t it?

Monday, 10 June 2019

Electoral arithmetic


Last week, the leader of Nigel Farage plc demanded that his ‘party’ be given a role in future negotiations over Brexit, whilst also demanding that the UK leave the EU without conducting any such further negotiations.  His basis for issuing this demand was that his ‘party’ won 40% of the seats in a parliament which has no responsibility for the issue in question after receiving 32% of the vote.  In his mind, this is an overwhelming democratic mandate which should oblige the government to accede, because his ‘party’ stood on a clear platform stating that it should be allowed a seat at the non-existent table where no negotiations would take place, and 32% of the electorate supported that demand.  It slightly overlooks the fact that, whether the other 68% voted for parties supporting different varieties of Brexit or not, they unquestionably did not vote for the only party arguing for that policy.
This is, of course, the same man who argues that in a referendum where 52% voted for Brexit and 48% against, the 48% can be ignored because they lost.  52% beats 48%, but at the same time 32% apparently trumps 68%.  The requirements of democracy (or even majoritarianism which is what we have) only apply to other people. 
There is, though, one part of his little missive with which I half agree, and that’s the bit where he claims that his ‘party’ has the “most recent and winning democratic mandate on Brexit”.  I say ‘half agree’ because 32% of those voting isn’t much of a winning mandate for anything; but in principle, he’s right about the result being the ‘most recent’ indication of feelings about Brexit.  And, perhaps unwittingly, he’s conceded a great deal there, because it’s an admission that a mandate won in one vote only applies up until another mandate is won in another vote, and that the ‘mandate’ can change over time.  I’m not sure that a letter hand-delivered to number 10, which he probably only ever thought of as a stunt giving him another excuse to play the betrayal card, was intended to be quite so revealing about the nature of democracy.

Monday, 15 April 2019

Who writes the definition?


In recent days and weeks, the Prime Minister has repeatedly demanded that MPs “put the country first” and “act in the national interest” rather than pursuing party political interests.  In principle, it’s an entirely reasonable expectation; the problem is that it doesn’t equate directly with supporting her deal in the way that she demands.  For what it’s worth, I believe that the overwhelming majority of MPs (there are a few, of course, who put their own personal interests first) are trying to do what they think is ‘right’ for their constituents and the country as a whole, it’s just that they define what is ‘right’ in different ways.  Some also, of course, define ‘country’ in a different way than May – it does not necessarily follow that what’s good for England is good for Scotland or Wales.
What May actually thinks about anything is a mystery even to those closest to her (and perhaps also to herself), but her words suggest that she thinks that the national interest is served by honouring the result of the 2016 referendum, since doing otherwise damages (further) people’s faith in the UK’s system of democracy.  In a limited sense, I’d agree; telling people that you’re giving them the decision and then ignoring the result is indeed damaging, and I can see that the ‘national interest’ is served by implementing the result.  But it is surely also ‘in the national interest’ that the government does not wreck the economy or take decisions which lead to shortages of food or medicines.  It is surely not ‘in the national interest’ to destroy jobs and opportunities, especially for our young people.  And it is surely not ‘in the national interest’ to reduce standards of environmental and employment protection.  Determining where the balance lies between those different factors is always going to be a matter of opinion, not fact; and opinions will differ.  Holding a different opinion on such a complex issue is not at all the same thing as acting against the national interest, as the PM seems to be claiming.
Demanding that people act ‘in the national interest’ is just rhetoric; the real question is who defines where that interest lies and on what criteria.  It is far from being the simple question as which she presents it.  There’s another aspect as well – she claims to be defining it in terms of ‘honouring democracy’, but what history teaches us is that individual leaders of governments who claim that they, and they alone, are the arbiters of what constitutes the national interests aren’t usually over-interested in democracy.  Claiming the unique right of definition and attacking all those who disagree as enemies of the people are the hallmarks of dictatorship, not democracy.

Tuesday, 26 March 2019

A majority isn't enough


One of last week’s posts talked about the problems of equating ‘democracy’ with simple ‘majority rule’, and argued that there has to be more to democracy than that, particularly in relation to securing and ensuring the rights and freedoms of all citizens.  Brexit has highlighted one aspect of the problem: whilst (according to the rules under which referendums are held) a majority of 50%+1 is considered sufficient to determine the question, making a major change on the basis of such a narrow majority – especially a change which has major implications for the lives of all citizens, including those opposed to it – leaves a country in a situation where 50%-1 of the population are potentially unhappy with the decision.  There’s a serious question to be asked about whether securing the narrowest of all margins in a public vote is really a good way of determining the ‘will of the people’; in the narrowest conceivable scenario, it’s really only the will of half the people.  There is a lesson here for independentistas as well.
Some have suggested that there should be a requirement for some sort of ‘super majority’, such as 60% support, before a change can be implemented following a referendum.  The main problem that I see with that approach is that it creates a built-in bias in favour of the status quo, even if the status quo enjoys only minority support.  As an example, if the two options on a ballot paper are a) remain part of the UK, and b) become independent, and if the electorate were to vote 40%+1:60%-1 in favour of independence, on what ‘democratic’ basis can the 40%+1 be declared ‘winners’?  Any rule other than 50%+1 means, effectively, that the ‘losing’ side can end up winning, which is as unsatisfactory to me as the idea that a simple majority can always impose its will on the minority.
I see the UK’s ‘winner takes all’ approach to elections as being a significant part of the problem.  In the case of the Brexit referendum, it meant that a party which secured only 36.9% of the vote in the 2015 election was rewarded with an absolute majority of seats in parliament, and then called a referendum (for which it was the only party to have campaigned) in order to placate the even smaller minority of anti-EU individuals amongst its members.  Had they been given only the 37% of seats which their vote earned them, then the referendum would never have been called and the subsequent shambles would have been avoided.  There is a very real sense in which a properly proportional electoral system creates a potential lock on reckless referendums, since it effectively requires a majority to vote for a party or parties supporting a referendum before one can be held.  In such a circumstance, a referendum is closer to being a confirmation of what people have already voted for rather than the prime method of taking the decision.
It does not, though, overcome my other reservation about a potential referendum on independence for Wales, a reservation which has grown considerably in the light of the outcome of the 2014 independence referendum in Scotland and the 2016 EU referendum across the UK.  If a referendum posing a binary question between two propositions can only fairly be decided by a simple majority (for the reasons outlined above), then the narrower that majority the greater the extent to which the referendum exposes a split amongst the population.   (And ‘expose’ a division is all it does; contrary to what many have argued, the two referendums to which I referred did not create the difference of opinion).  Imposing such a major decision made by barely half the population on an unwilling minority (on whichever side it is found) is, as we have seen with Brexit, a deeply unattractive proposition. 
On some questions there is a possibility of a ‘middle way’ if those involved are willing to look for it (in the case of Brexit, for example, a closer relationship with the EU than the PM has been willing to countenance).  But sometimes there is no middle way.  Certainly, powers can be gradually transferred to Wales under a devolution model, but at some point, there is an inevitable binary question – does sovereignty lie with the crown in parliament or does it lie with the people of Wales?  ‘Devolution’ avoids that question (and can continue to ignore it as considerable additional powers are devolved), but the price of avoiding it is that devolution is always unilaterally reversible by Westminster; independence is not.
For independence to be the ‘will of the people’ therefore requires, in my view, more than winning a simple majority in a referendum; it requires that the people as a whole are ready and willing to accept it, even if it’s not their preferred option.  That has been a central problem with Brexit – the Brexiteers campaigned with the sole objective of winning the vote (by any means at all, as it turns out), and not with the aim of persuading people that it was a good (or at least reasonable) idea.  Even now, the Brexit ultras are clinging to the idea that the referendum vote gives them the absolute right to impose their view of what it meant on the population as a whole; they are still making little or no effort to persuade.  Majoritarianism is a deeply-rooted concept in a ‘winner-takes-all’ style democracy.
The lesson for independentistas is clear; our job is not simply to press for a referendum and then seek to win a majority by whatever means are available – it is to create the desire for independence and to persuade even those not willing to vote for it that it is a reasonable and acceptable way forward for Wales.  Most of the nations that have gained independence over the years did not do so as a result of a majority vote, they did so because it was the obvious and natural step for them to take.  We need to make it the obvious and natural step for Wales to take.
Too much of the independence movement in Wales is over-focussed on the electoral aspect rather than on developing that desire and creating the environment in which independence becomes entirely natural.  It is perhaps inevitable; the winner-tales-all approach is the familiar territory in which politics in Wales plays out – it’s just another of those instances where we need to start thinking differently before independence.  Insofar as the case is being made at all, it is often made on a ‘transactional’ basis, such as being a means of avoiding Tory austerity.  But building a general consensus around a willingness to accept responsibility for shaping our own futures is much more important – and difficult, of course – than merely calling for a referendum and then looking for a simple narrow majority in a one-off vote in a nation where that ground work hasn’t been done.  Calling for an independence referendum in the immediate future isn’t the same as a campaign to persuade people that independence is the best way forward for Wales.  Advancing Welsh democracy and achieving a consensus around independence requires more than applying traditional Westminster majoritarianism in Wales.

Wednesday, 20 March 2019

Majoritarianism isn't enough


There are many Brexiteers who are claiming on a regular basis than any decision to cancel or delay Brexit would be some sort of affront to ‘democracy’, and that people will feel cheated if Brexit is in any way delayed or watered down.  Trump Junior has added his support to the idea that democracy is “all but dead” because the “will of the people” is being ignored.  He’s expressing a view which many of those who voted for Brexit share, and which is being expressed by many.  After all, the argument goes, 17.4 million people voted to leave the EU, and only 16.1 million voted to remain, so ‘democracy’ requires that we leave.  But is that true?  One of the things I learned from my studies many years ago is that there isn’t actually a single simple agreed definition of what ‘democracy’ means.  And one thing which is certain is that there’s a huge difference between ‘democracy’ and ‘majoritarianism’.
If asked to define the word ‘democracy’, I suspect that most people would come up with some variation on Lincoln’s statement about “government of the people, by the people, for the people”, and I wouldn’t disagree with that formulation.  I would point out, though, that it talks about “the people”, not “the majority of the people”, and there’s nothing in the famous phrase which requires that the vote of the majority should outweigh the interests of any minority.  The minority in any binary choice are still part of ‘the people’, and ‘government by the people for the people’ cannot simply exclude them as a result.  It may or may not (no-one is entirely sure) have been Benjamin Franklin who said that “Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have for lunch”.  It highlights the inherent problem in equating democracy and majoritarianism.  (It’s worth noting, though, that whoever did say it went on to add that “Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote”, highlighting the need to protect minorities from the absolutism of majority rule.) 
I’m not particularly in favour of arming the lambs, but it neatly illustrates the point that there has to be more to a truly democratic process than simply following the will of the majority.  No matter how large the majority, the idea that they always have the absolute right to over-ride the interests, freedom and rights of those who disagree with them is contrary to the idea of all people having rights; and positing extreme examples of what majorities might vote for highlights the problem.  Just to give one simple example – if the majority of citizens in a unitary state such as the UK voted to outlaw all languages other than English, would the government be obliged by ‘democracy’ to implement such a decision?  It’s an unlikely scenario, of course; but it demonstrates that modern concepts of rights and democracy demand that there must be limits on the rights of a mathematical majority.  (The much more difficult question is about who decides where the limits lie, but I’ll leave that one to one side for today.)
Turning back to the matter in hand, one of the problems clouding the debate about Brexit has been the UK’s traditional approach to democracy, which is based very much on the absolute and untrammelled right of the majority, even when it isn’t really a ‘majority’ at all.  Individual MPs are elected on a plurality of votes (which usually means a minority of the electorate), and whichever party can put together a simple majority in one house of parliament then expects the absolute right to pass whatever laws it chooses.  It doesn’t matter that no recent government has received the votes of a majority (meaning that in every case since 1935 more people have voted against the party which ‘won’ the election than for it); under the UK system, a government once formed expects absolute power.  That winner-takes-all expectation helps the current PM to assume that she has a right to the support of parliament for any proposal which she places before it.
It is also that adherence to majoritarianism which leads people to expect that achieving a small but clear majority in a referendum means that the result is inviolable and absolute.  The winner takes all, and the losers must go away and stop complaining, even if the ‘democratic’ result costs them their jobs, their livelihoods and (in the event of some of the more extreme projections over medicines etc) potentially even their lives.  An alternative, rather more inclusive, approach to the democratic outcome would have been to note that the majority was small, to note than an enormous number of people wanted to remain in a close relationship with the EU, and to devise an approach to Brexit which tried to honour the letter (ending formal EU membership) of the vote whilst maintaining close links.  I believe that there would have been (and probably still is) a majority in parliament for such an approach, but the ‘winning side’ has deliberately chosen not to pursue it.  The extent to which a mindset based on traditional UK absolutism has shaped the PM’s approach is open to debate, but a state more interested to trying to govern ‘for (all) the people’ and taking a more inclusive approach to defining the ‘will of (all) the people’ would not have followed the same path.
One of the things that Brexit has highlighted is that the UK’s system of ‘democracy’ is badly broken and needs repair.  It’s more than simply adopting a proportional electoral system, to ensure that the elected parliament more accurately reflects public opinion.  It’s also about developing a better understanding of what we mean by ‘democracy’; what are the limits on the rights of the ‘majority’; and how the rights and interests of minorities are protected.  If anything, Brexit to date has displayed clearly how far away we are from building a form of democracy in which no-one would ever consider that the lambs need to be well-armed.

Tuesday, 5 March 2019

Yet more not-nationalism


The former UK Ambassador to the EU has delivered a withering judgement on the UK’s approach to negotiating with the EU, in which he argues that the PM simply did not, and still does not, understand how the EU works, assuming (like Cameron before her) that the real negotiations were with the heads of government of the 27 member states, not with their appointed representatives in the EU institutions.  As a description of the mess in which we now find ourselves, it’s a helpful insight from someone who’s been there and knows how things work.  I wonder, though, whether it gets right to the bottom of the underlying problem.
There was another story over the weekend about the former Foreign Secretary’s complaint that ‘we don’t really know who’s running the EU or how to kick them out’, which, leaving aside his usual colourful and unhelpful language, struck me as being another side of the same coin.  In truth, it isn’t about not knowing who runs the EU, nor about knowing how to kick them out, it’s more about not liking the answer to those questions.  What he really seems to be hinting at is that there is no way for the UK electorate, acting alone, to change the people at the top of the EU.  For Johnson, as with May, the problem starts and ends with their own ideological perspective about what the ‘right’ way to do things is, and utter incomprehension that anyone else might take a different view.
From their perspective, the ‘right’ place – indeed, the only place – for power to lie is with what they choose to call the ‘nation state’ (although it’s actually more a question of which set of lines on the map was in place when the fighting stopped – a debate for another day).  From that point of view, it makes eminent sense that May would expect to be dealing with other nation states, just as it makes eminent sense for the nation state (well, for ‘our’ nation state at least) to be able to remove its leaders at any level.  It’s a position which has more holes in it than a colander though, when looked at from any perspective other than theirs.  They find it easy enough to dismiss the counter argument that the same rule should apply to Wales or Scotland, neither of which can change the UK Government unilaterally – after all, they’re not ‘nation states’ are they?  They’re merely regions of the only nation state which counts, with comparatively small populations.  And being able to change the people who rule over us doesn’t include the head of state (obviously – her power was given to her by God, not through any electoral process) nor the membership of the largest house of parliament (tradition and ‘the way we do things’ being more important than considerations of democracy).
It’s just as well that they keep reminding us that they’re not nationalists (apparently, only other people can be nationalists) because otherwise it would be very tempting to describe their view as being extremely nationalistic.