Pursuing a career in Parliament provides one of the greatest stages in the world upon which to perform. The ever flamboyant Benjamin Disraeli, the nineteenth-century Conservative British Prime Minister, once proclaimed openly “I love fame, I love reputation”. Disraeli loved the theatre of politics in the House of Commons, and his ostentatious style would frequently rile both his scrupulously serious nemesis, William Gladstone, and the Tories on his own benches.
Yet even Disraeli surely would have balked at the way in which John Bercow has sought to turn the Commons into his own personal stage. And, certainly, not even Disraeli would have dreamed of doing so as the Speaker of the House of Commons, the office which is supposed to be the embodiment of impartiality and neutrality in our political system and legislative process.
Now, the eternally notorious former Speaker of the House, who stepped down from the position in October, has become the centre of controversy once more. This time, he has been accused of bullying by his former colleague, Lord Lisvane, who served as Clerk of the House between 2011-2014.
Lisvane, who says his mental health was seriously affected by his treatment at the hands of Bercow, lodged a formal complaint to the Parliamentary Commissioner for Standards on Wednesday. Bercow categorically denies all of these allegations. We will have to see how they are handled through the official channels before drawing premature conclusions.
Of course, the most worrying thing about Bercow is not just the backlog of bullying accusations levelled at him by his former staff. It is the boresome, hectoring way in which he harangued the entire House of Commons. It is the nauseating manner by which he abused his power, turning a venerable chamber into his own personal pantomime and derailing the Brexit process into a warped Punch and Judy show.
The nomination of Bercow for a peerage by Jeremy Corbyn is the departing gesture of a leader of the opposition embittered by resounding election defeat. It is right that the government is sceptical about honouring it. It would be a travesty to have a figure who did so much to undermine public faith in parliament elevated to the House of Lords.
As expected, Bercow now complains that it has “become increasingly obvious that the government has no intention of honouring the centuries-old convention that a departing Speaker is promptly elevated to the House of Lords” following retirement.
Yet this is the same man who, when Commons clerks advised him that he was breaking with tradition in allowing Dominic Grieve to undermine Theresa May’s Brexit Bill in January 2019, proudly declared “I am not in the business of invoking precedent, nor am I under any obligation to do so”. Indeed, he said, “If we were guided only by precedent, nothing would ever change”. Omnia mutantur – everything changes – would seem to have been his watchword.
It is therefore amusing, to say the very least, to see Bercow become a stickler for tradition after he did his damnedest to destroy the centuries-old tradition that is the impartiality of the Speaker. He should not be so surprised to discover now that those who sow the wind reap the whirlwind.
In the end, boisterous Bercow is getting what he deserves. After years of subjecting the House to his intemperate outbursts and wearying verbosity, the former Speaker has not earned the right to continue doing so in the Lords. His cynical ploys and procedural games did much to damage public confidence in a – if not the – central role for the successful functioning of parliament.
No – it would be best for Bercow, and for the British people, if he finally fulfils his destiny as a minor celebrity, living out his days as a slapstick curiosity on Italian game shows and as a part-time Professor of Politics at Royal Holloway. Let him not haunt the halls of power any longer. It is time to let his successor, Lindsay Hoyle, rebuild goodwill and repair the vandalism which he has enacted upon our constitution.