Speaker gets a bee in his bonnet
February 7 2017, 12:01am,
Patrick Kidd
Donald Trump has only been in his job a fortnight and already he has earned the right to join one of the most esteemed, if not particularly exclusive, clubs in Westminster. Its members display their fellowship by wearing a badge depicting three bumble bees, code for the society’s motto: “Bollocked by Bercow.”
I trust a badge is buzzing its way to Washington after the Speaker’s extraordinary outburst yesterday afternoon. Mr Bercow gave the president the full Peggy Mitchell, or at least an Erskine May-approved version of it. “Oi, Trump, yer barred! Giddouda’ere! Nah!”
Stephen Doughty (Lab, Cardiff South & Penarth) had started it by drawing attention to a motion against Mr Trump addressing parliament during a state visit. Mr Bercow, emboldened by slapping down a Tory backbench rebellion over wigs, steeled himself and then let rip. “An address by a foreign leader to both houses of parliament is not an automatic right, it is an earned honour,” he said.
A speech in Westminster Hall, the oldest, most venerable room, is extremely rare. Only the Queen, the Pope, Nelson Mandela, Aung San Suu Kyi and Barack Obama have spoken there in the past 50 years and all but Mandela came while Mr Bercow was Speaker. As one of the three keyholders for the hall, he had no intention of opening up for this president. “My gaff, my rules.”
Mr Trump does not appear to have demanded that he be given the use of Westminster Hall, nor do we know that he was offered it by the government. All we’ve had is MPs saying that something that probably wouldn’t have happened shouldn’t happen but that’s politics for you.
The Speaker did not just bar Mr Trump from there; he said he would not add his name to any invitation to speak in the Royal Gallery either. He conceded that inviting heads of state was “above the pay grade of the Speaker” — the Queen will be relieved — but went on to say that Westminster was no place for sexists and racists. He has clearly not been on the terrace after last orders.
This performance earned him a smattering of applause from the SNP and a few Labourites. Such noise is technically against the rules and plenty of MPs have won their three bees badge for doing so, but the Speaker was prepared to turn a deaf ear this once. “We should not have clapping but sometimes it is easier to let it go,” he said. I suspect that he was offering signatures later outside the stage door.
A ban on applause is one of the quaint traditions in parliament, like the one that required members to wear a top hat when raising a point of order. That was rescinded only in 1998 after MPs admitted that it was silly. Some feel the same about making people wear wigs to work but Mr Bercow’s ruling that the Commons clerks will no longer do so went down badly in some quarters. Geoffrey Clifton-Brown (C, The Cotswolds) was the first to raise a point of order on this, demanding to know why MPs had not been asked to approve it. “Do you really want to use parliamentary time on this?” an exasperated Mr Bercow wondered.
Then up popped Sir Gerald Howarth (C, Aldershot), the sort of man you would expect to wear a top hat for old times’ sake, to suggest naughtily that Mr Bercow was firing off “executive orders” like some American tyrant. The clerks asked me to do this, the Speaker replied.
Maybe the wig ban and the Trump ban are connected. Mr Bercow may just dislike people with unnatural hair. As Sir Gerald spoke about the dignity of wigs, an SNP member was concerned about the MP for Lichfield. “What about Michael Fabricant?” he shouted. That exotic coiffure remains safe for now but is anything sacred these days?