Day after day, the residential status of Lord Ashcroft, a deputy chairman of the Conservative Party, has been making headlines. The controversy about this is focused on the assurances that he is said to have given at the time, some 10 years ago, that he was made a peer — and a member of the House of Lords. Were these assurances that he would become a permanent resident in the UK, or that he would give up his status as a non-dom — someone not officially domiciled here? What was the understanding of William Hague, then leader of the Conservative party, about this? What was the understanding of the political honours and scrutiny committee?
The more the matter has been discussed, the more fuzzy it has become. The politicians and the press have been having a field day in exploring who knew what when, and whether those concerned fully understood the information that they had. The controversy has been exacerbated by the fact that Lord Ashcroft has been a major financial supporter of the Conservative party. Not surprisingly, as a general election rapidly approaches, politicians on both sides of the political divide are wringing every possible drop of poison out of the story.
Wider issues
The whole affair, however, raises wider issues than those specifically related to the political parties in the run up to the election. It highlights, yet again, the unsatisfactory arrangements by which membership of the upper chamber of the UK Parliament — the House of Lords — is decided. For many years, the House of Lords was made up of hereditary peers. That was the tradition. No one could, or did, pretend that it was in the least democratic, and there was sporadic discussion of the need for reform. Two main possibilities were discussed. One was a second chamber whose members would be nominated by the Prime Minister. It was criticised for the obvious reason that it would have given even more power to the Prime Minister, and the government. The second idea was that there should be an elected upper house. It was criticised on the ground that it would become a political rival to the House of Commons.
When the Labour party came to power in 1997, with Tony Blair as Prime Minister, the process of reform began, with the removal of the right of nearly all the hereditary peers to sit and vote. The role of life peers remained important; many of them, it should be recognised, bring great experience and skill to their parliamentary role.
The need for further reform was accepted, and among ideas mooted was that the second chamber should include members elected to represent the regions, and also independent members. One crucial idea was that membership should no longer be linked to the peerage. Argument about how membership should be decided — essentially argument about appointment versus some form of election — continued, and reform has still not been achieved.
Confusion of roles
One important corollary of this is that membership of the second chamber — the House of Lords — still requires the award of an honour. As I see it, this perpetuates a confusion of roles that dates back to an era when democracy as it is understood today simply did not exist, and when the practice of politics was more a matter of privilege than service. (As one illustration of how different things were in relatively recent times, women in the UK did not have the vote until after the First World War.)
Many people would no doubt argue that the whole idea of the peerage, of labelling someone as Lord or Lady, is an unacceptable anomaly in what is a less deferential and more egalitarian age. My own view is that there is nothing wrong with a bit of anomaly, but there is a lot wrong with linking lordship (and ladyship) to membership of a parliamentary second chamber. Apart from any other considerations, we should appreciate that while politicians may, and indeed should, be honourable that should not require that they are put on a kind of honour plateau.
This week, two British army bomb disposal experts, who had faced great danger, and saved many lives, by disarming explosive devices in Afghanistan, were awarded the George Cross. In one case, the award (to Staff Sergeant Otto Schmid) was posthumous, as he was killed by an explosion on the last day of duty in the country. Those awards are unquestionably honours. Beside them, the award of peerages to politicians is surely put in perspective.
Bill Kirkman is an Emeritus Fellow of Wolfson College Cambridge, UK.
Email him at: bill.kirkman@gmail.com
