Electric Review

BOOKS: What did it matter?
Revolts and Rebellions by Philip Cowley

I have sometimes wondered whether, if by some accident I found myself an MP, would I have it in me to rebel against the party whip over an issue of principle? Rather like when one watches a war film and wonders, how would I react under fire? Would that strange mixture of bravery and madness suffuse enough to be able to discharge oneself honourably? As Cowley’s book reveals, some of these rebels firmly believe that their rebellions are the high points of their parliamentary careers. This is the key to understanding the issue — they are mostly backbenchers; passed over, bored with sham bribes and inducements, and sore about it. If they make a habit of rebellion the whips label them ‘the Usual Suspects’ and demean their motives.

This is a book focusing on the Parliamentary Labour Party in the last Parliament; those 418 who formed the largest majority since 1935 and no doubt some of them voted against their government safe in the knowledge that their rebellion would not affect the outcome. Most of these rebellions were doubtless sincerely meant moments of principle but, overall, who cares? At one time or another 133 of them voted against their government but the legislation passed anyway, often unaffected, although we also learn of any subsequent, minor concessions. Cowley analyses in great detail each troubled vote in Labour’s relentless social democratic programme and provides us with plenty of tables and graphs of those revolting Labour MPs. He lectures at the University of Hull and clearly is very fond of statistics. His lectures must be great fun.

I was hoping to learn something of the psychology of parliamentary rebellion. Statistics only tell you so much. It is, after all, natural to vote with ones parliamentary party in a democracy where the electorate votes for parties, not individuals. Even ex-ministers with the wounded pride of failed ambition know this. However, when one extracts the kernel from all his analysis Cowley, in a rather dry manner, notes that there are three preconditions for rebellion: an issue needs to be on the legislative agenda, the MP needs to have a different position from his party on the issue and, lastly, he needs to have an independent concept of himself. Really? I was wondering.

Voting against the wishes of your party managers can be a disturbing and frightening experience. Unless by means of wealth and a healthy disinterest in politics, which is rare, or from an untouchable status of fame or gravitas, which comes with longevity, the whips organise the framework of most of your working life. Their power and influence to cause inconvenience can therefore be intimidating. Mostly they like to use persuasion and whatever charm they can muster but their negative powers — of withholding honours, better offices, foreign trips and time away from the House — usually carries the day for them. It is harder for them to discipline any sizeable number of rebels, if at all, beyond the usual bearing of grudges. Cowley does not even mention another obvious carrot, that whips are usually the only ones who notice new MPs. Front benchers are too busy. Therefore, common behaviour for ambitious freshmen and sophomores eager for promotion is to suck up to the whips. Such practical boundaries clip the principles of most.

Also, whips do resort to old fashioned bullying and physical force and such behaviour is not exclusive to either of the parties. In a passage of rare interest Cowley quotes an anonymous Labour MP, ‘If I were a normal employee working in a normal company, I’d be waiting for the cheque from the tribunal’. This is more like it, but I am afraid such insights are not sustained. Anecdotes are lost in an amorphous mass of blah. Well, actually they are lost in an over-structured, comprehensive record of quite disturbing blandness. It is worthy, serious research gleaned from countless hours poured over Hansard but misses out all the interesting ingredients: ambition, fear, venal selfishness and candour.

The cover, however, gives the book a promising sheen. Old Labour warriors who have made a habit of exercising independent thought adorn the cover: Tony Benn, Sir Tam Dalyell Bt, Dennis Skinner, Gwynneth Dunwoody and a man with a beard who I did not recognise. The back cover has Kirk Douglas as Spartacus in heroic pose, holding a flaming torch and rousing his men. On the front, Tony is smoking his pipe and Tam is holding a microphone. How these images are supposed to connect I am not sure.

If you want to learn what it feels like to rebel against the party whip then there are better references than this. Teresa Gorman’s ghostwriter can barely write but The Bastards tells a fascinating tale from the perspective of the Tory Maastricht rebels of pressurised, claustrophobic bullying and introspection. One MP told me of when a whip screamed at him to ‘fuck off back to business if you can’t support the Party’ and that, once the rant had finished, he had had to wipe the spittle from his face. Those times, of a parliamentary party’s discipline imploding, were settled in great drama. Forgive me, but Maastricht was the mother of all parliamentary rebellions: friendships were ruptured, promised knighthoods lost, whips withdrawn and a government intent on suicide forced the issue. Did those Labour revolts over Iraq and social security reform have the same frisson? Well, no. Blair’s babes have never put his administration in danger of collapse, only wobbled the odd minor concession from behind the scenes. The Welfare Reform and Pensions Bill gave Labour whips eight rebellions involving 74 MPs, but these did not really seem to have ministers shaking in their boots. It did, however, nearly send me to sleep.

Philip Cowley, Revolts and Rebellions [Politico’s Publishing, £20.00, pp. 286]

After the noble enterprise of the Redwood ‘95 campaign, Johnny Leavesley worked for Conservative 2000; he now alternates between the West Midlands and Wiltons.

Johnny Leavesley, November 17, 2002 09:48 AM