Yesterday something unusual and exceptional happened at Prime Minister’s Questions in the House of Commons, and the speaker of the Commons Lindsay Hoyle made a bad and horrible mistake.
What was unusual were the circumstances. Diane Abbott, a serving member of parliament, was reported to have been subjected to a racist and misogynist insult and stated intention that she should be shot. That reported insult and death wish had, in turn, been made by a major £10m donor to the governing party. It was an issue raised by the leaders of both main opposition parties.
While such insults and death wishes are themselves an ugly aspect of political discourse, for such words to have been reportedly spoken by such a major donor to the governing party made this news story distinctive. So much so that it did not surprise anyone that both the Labour leader and Scottish National Party leader led with the matter with their questions. The issue dominated the session.
Nor was it a surprise when the current prime minister had nothing decent to say in response to such questions. There can be no adequate response other than for the prime minister to disown the donation and condemn the reported statements. The premier affected that an apology had been given for the reported insult and the death wish (which was false, for an apology had only been given for “rudeness”) and he plainly hoped that would be enough to get him through the session.
But it was not enough, for in combination with this unusual situation was the exceptional fact that the member of parliament concerned was sitting in the chamber watching these politicians talk about her. And, as it happened, the politicians talked over her, as if she was not there. It was quite an extraordinary sight.
Abbott is an opposition independent member of parliament, sitting without the whip of the parliamentary Labour party. She is entitled to ask a question at PMQs as much as any other MP. And she tried.
Throughout the session she “bobbed” (as is the phrase): standing up so as to show that she wanted to ask a question. For those watching at home, it seemed she was the only opposition MP bobbing. She bobbed 46 times. But the speaker refused to call her.
There can be no doubt that this was a deliberate decision by the speaker. An opposition MP bobbing 46 times cannot go unnoticed, especially when it was conspicuous that other opposition MPs were not seeking his attention. And there has not been any attempt by the speaker or his spokesperson to pretend that she was not noticed. The speaker must have noticed her attempt to speak for herself, and he must also have decided against it.
The spokesperson for the speaker did afterwards attempt some form of defence, but it only made things far worse. The line-to-take (which was taken) was, “This week—as is often the case—there was not enough time to call all members who wanted to ask a question.”
What converts this from a poor response to a horrible one is the blithe “as is so often the case”. This clumsy line (which should only ever be used with care) denies here the unusual and exceptional circumstances not only of the reported insult and death wish, but also of both main opposition leaders raising the matter, as well as other MPs, in front of Abbott as she sought to speak for herself. This was not a normal situation, and it was wrong for the speaker’s spokesperson to try to pass it off as one. If this was not an exceptional situation at PMQs, it is hard to think of another one.
Others have attempted to explain away the decision by the speaker by pointing to the opposition-heavy order paper listing MPs who wanted the opportunity to ask a question, and to the time limits of PMQs. But neither of these pat excuses work in this situation, for the explanations presume it was not an exceptional situation.
The speaker has a discretion to call MPs who are not listed. Of the first 12 MPs listed on the order paper yesterday, all of whom asked a question, four were Conservatives, four were Labour and four were from other parties. There were also to be nine questions for the leaders of Labour, the Scottish National Party and (as it was their turn) the Liberal Democrats.
The speaker exercised his discretion to call seven MPs yesterday to ask questions at PMQs who were neither on the order the paper nor a leader of an opposition party. Every single one of these seven MPs called at his discretion was a Conservative.
Put another way, of the questions not allocated to party leaders, eight were asked by opposition MPs and 11 by government backbenchers, and seven of those 11 were selected by the speaker exercising his discretion. There can be no good reason why the speaker did not exercise his discretion in favour of Abbott.
The speaker made a bad decision in this exceptional situation
As for the supposed time limit, that is also at the discretion of the speaker. Yesterday’s PMQs were over by 12.36pm. But two weeks ago, on 28 February, they were over by 12.39pm, and on 21 February they were over by 12.43pm. A previous speaker, John Bercow, often allowed PMQs to go on even longer. Had the speaker wanted the session to last for another couple of minutes, it would have been perfectly possible.
The speaker therefore made a bad decision in this exceptional situation. This is why there were groans in the chamber as he announced that the last question would be asked by (another) Conservative MP not listed on the order paper. Everyone watching, inside the chamber and out, saw how Abbott tried repeatedly to be able to ask a question herself about what had been the main subject of the questions: the reported insult and death wish regarding her made by a major party donor.
When the speaker made his last-but-one bad decision—to rob the Scottish National Party of a meaningful vote at one of their few opposition day debates—he protested emotionally that he did this because he cared so much about the security of MPs. (His last bad decision was to then renege on an emergency debate that he had promised the SNP.) But his deliberate decision yesterday not to call Abbott was at the other extreme, indicating he cared nothing about what she herself had to say on the topic of security.
The impression this conveys is not of a speaker who is overseeing the business of the house without fear or favour. At best, the current decision-making can be called erratic. Not to call Abbott in yesterday’s circumstances was a bad decision, made horrible by the blasé statement from his spokesperson.
And, as the moment has now passed, it was a mistake that cannot be effectively rectified, even if Abbott is called next week. For this week—as is so often the case—those directly affected by a wrong are spoken over, and not given a chance to speak for themselves.
