Tories demean themselves in tawdry attempt to change 600-year-old rule

John Bercow is the sort of man who tends to annoy people: he is prickly about his small stature, assertive and sure of the worth of his own opinions and prone to bouts of self-importance.

He has also been a good speaker of the House of Commons over the last six years, if one judges him by his efforts to ensure MPs can challenge the powers of ministers. David Cameron loathes him, allegedly bristling when he is within sight.

Elected as a Conservative in 1997, Bercow became speaker in 2009 and was returned automatically as an MP for his Buckinghamshire constituency a year later.

The full degree of the Conservatives’ loathing for Bercow explains the tawdry final act of this parliament’s life when they sought to ensure that he would face a secret ballot for the job after the May election is over.

The motion was put forward by William Hague in one of his final acts as leader of the House of Commons before he steps down from parliament after a 25-year career. The motion demeaned the man.

The Conservatives’ argument was simple: who could be afraid of a secret ballot? Is not every Commons committee chair appointed now in such a way? Does the public not do so in elections?

However, opponents argued that prime ministers are elected by open ballot, while applying it in this way would undermine a speaker from the off – thus strengthening the executive. Even if it was right to change, it should not be rushed.

Uncomfortable

The change in the 600-year-old rule was recommended by the Commons’ procedures committee, said Hague, the most accomplished parliamentarian of his generation, but one who looked uncomfortable dealing with this last-minute shafting.

Conservative MPs mostly, but not entirely, share Cameron’s opinion of Bercow, if with less strength, but procedural Conservatives such as Jacob Rees-Mogg were clearly upset by the sleight of hand.

Hague’s case was damaged beyond repair in an extraordinary few minutes when Conservative MP Charles Walker, who chaired the committee on which Hague had so relied, rose with tears in his eyes.

He had never recommended that changes be made without notice or proper debate in the final hours of the parliament’s life, said Walker. Ominously for Hague, Graham Brady, the chair of the Conservatives backbenchers’ 1922 Committee, sat beside Walker.

He had gone to Hague's leaving drinks this week, Walker said. He had spent time on Wednesday with Hague's officials. He had spoken to chief whip Michael Gove that evening. None of them had told him of their plans.

“I have been played as a fool and when I go home tonight, I will look in the mirror and see an honourable fool looking back at me. I would rather be an honourable fool in this and any other matter, Mr Speaker, than a clever man,” he said.

The Labour benches rose to applaud: a breach of parliamentary rules and something that has only happened twice in recent memory. Exeter MP Ben Bradshaw waved an order paper like a scarf-waving football supporter.

Labour frontbenchers, including Angela Eagle, continuously looked to the clock, hoping that some of their MPs who had left for their constituencies on Wednesday night returned in time.

Indeed, they would not have been able to have done so had Bercow not granted three “urgent questions” earlier to the opposition, the very practice that has made Conservatives hate him so much.

Hague resisted calls to withdraw the motion. Michael Gove – education secretary before he was recently demoted – hurried in, indicating that he had the numbers for the vote.

The MPs divided. Even then, the Conservatives believed they had won, until Labour MP Davie Hamilton, a Scottish ex-miner jailed during the 1984 miners strike, came in beaming.

Gleeful

The Labour MPs rose joyously and were joined by a couple of Conservatives. The 228-202 victory was won only by the decision of 23 senior Conservatives, including Brady, David Davis and Bernard Jenkins, to vote No.

Hamilton remembered a Bercow kindness later, saying that Bercow had found him a boarding house when he had first come to Westminster: “I’ve always had a soft spot for you since then.”

Bercow was gleeful after the vote. He would not have been human if he had not been, though it may perhaps have been better to have hidden it. A speaker may struggle to rule over a divided house.