On the 4th July, Independence Day, my wife and I made a short walk to the village hall to register our vote to ratify the separation of the thirteen colonies from Great Britain…I do beg your pardon, I am confusing history with current affairs. It is true I voted (how shall remain confidential) but as I did so, I pondered how peaceful, easy and genteel it all was. There was no queue: the whole process did not take longer than two minutes (or it would have had we not stopped for a chat with the tellers). The lady behind the trellis table scarcely looked at my identifying passport for the very good reason that she knew me. Nobody approached us threateningly. Nobody offered us a bribe. Nobody encouraged us to vote one way or the other. We were simply left alone and without harassment to put our cross where we wished. And as we placed our folded voting slip into the ballot box, we were in no doubt that the electoral process would proceed honestly and conscientiously and that the result would be fair and genuine and that nobody would contest it. Democracy works!
Well, it doesn’t. Not everywhere. Elections in some countries are a sham. Elections in other counties are violent. And elections in most countries you care to mention are anything but free and fair; some are clearly rigged, and many are subject to intimidation and corruption somewhere along the line. So, we should count our blessings that we can stroll along to a village or school or church or sports hall or leisure centre to vote, secure in the knowledge that the ballot papers will suffer no interference.
But it wasn’t always like this. Politics in Britain has a chequered and volatile history. Following the Reformation and the Dissolution of the Monasteries under Henry VIII, the country was divided along religious lines. During the reign of Queen Mary (‘Bloody Mary’), 280 Protestants were burned at the stake. Her successor, Elizabeth I, ordered the execution of 600 Catholic priests. Not much freedom of choice there. Religious persecution may have diminished by the 16th and 17thcenturies, but British politics remained chaotic and unregulated. Take the 1705 elections. There was widespread mob violence across the country. The cry of the Tories was ‘Church in Danger’ because it was suspected that the Toleration Act, permitting freedom of worship to all Non-conformists (but not Catholics), would put the Church of England in peril.
By the turn of the 18th century, the concern of politics was to avoid the bloody revolution that was taking place across the Channel. The truth of the matter, though it was scarcely appreciated at the time, was that England had had her civil war two hundred years previously and though fisticuffs were not uncommon at hustings, the population did not really have the stomach for another revolution. Nonetheless, it could hardly be claimed that elections were orderly and peaceful. In fact, disorder was endemic, with noisy, contentious debate, even descending into violence from time to time, as the two parties, Whigs and Tories, battled it out for supremacy. In spite of the Great Reform Act of 1832, which extended the franchise and greatly addressed the unequal distribution of seats, politics continued on its turbulent path, reflecting deep-seated local animosities, family rivalries and endemic bribery and corruption.
The Secret Ballot Act of 1872 was passed into law in the expectation that it would reduce electoral violence and abuse and it is true that vicious tribalism slowly diminished, to the extent that the tongue rather than the fist dominated public discourse. These days we just have the odd rotten egg or milkshake thrown at politicians on the stump. In point of fact, we rarely see the leaders of parties out and about mingling and engaging with the populace; they prefer choreographed set pieces, surrounded by supporters and party faithful, all dressed, for some reason, in high-vis jackets.
Probably, it ill behoves us to pour scorn on elections in other countries that fall short of our orderly and demonstrably fair process. After all, we have had centuries of practice, stretching as far back as 1215 and Magna Carta, and even now, nobody can claim that our system is perfect. Churchill had this to say about it all: “No-one can pretend that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed, it has been said that democracy is the worst form of government except for all the other forms that have been tried from time to time.” Enlightened autocracy has sometimes been held up as a more efficient form of government but there is another famous quotation, admittedly this time from a less famous person, Lord Acton, a 19th century historian: “Power tends to corrupt; absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Dictators, even the altruistic (and how many of those have there been in history?), never give up power voluntarily. At least we have the wherewithal to change the pilot every five years…with minimum disruption. And what other country has Monster Raving Loonies standing alongside cabinet ministers for the count?
The result is announced, the people have spoken, and the handover of power is quick and seamless. One prime minister goes to the Palace, shakes the King’s hand and gives up the seals of office. Shortly afterwards, his successor enters, shakes the King’s hand and takes hold of the seals of office. Nothing could be simpler. In America, the inauguration occurs several months later. One cannot imagine Rishi Sunak taking to a rostrum, urging fellow Conservatives to march on Parliament and invade the House of Commons, to cause mayhem and riot, claiming that the election had been ‘stolen’ by Keir Starmer. Friday morning in this country was peaceful and unexceptional. No deaths as a result of political protest and civil anarchy. More noise was caused by England’s forthcoming match against Switzerland the following day.
It's odd but every incumbent to the premiership doesn’t look like a prime minister until the very moment he – or she – stands in front of the No. 10 doorway. It’s not as if a different uniform has been donned, denoting promotion and power, and there are no gaudy rallies and ostentatious ceremony to mark the changing of the guard. The new prime minister walks up Downing Street, accepting applause and congratulation from party faithful, before he disappears inside No. 10, while his predecessor makes a speedy exit out of the back door. It’s all very British and understated but means a lot. We reserve panoply and ceremonial for State occasions, birthdays, marriages, funerals and the like, which mean very little.
So perhaps we ought to pause for a moment as political change is afoot. There could be worse constitutional systems to suffer. We might even win the Euros. But if we do, are you not a tiny bit concerned that Ursula von der Leyen won’t allow Harry Kane to put his hands on the trophy because we are no longer Euro?
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