The Professor Will See You Now: Norway
Illustration by Tracy Worrall
4 min read
Lessons in political science. This week: Norway
There are, in an average calendar year, around 220 divisions on the floor of the House of Commons. An MP who stayed in the Commons for, say, 10 years and who had a turnout rate of 70 per cent (which is about the average over the last decade) would take part in more than 1,500.
It would be interesting to know how many of these votes they would be able to recall in their dotage. Vanishingly few, I suspect. A handful of the bigger revolts, maybe, or one or two of the knife-edge votes. Perhaps some of the spicier free votes, like those on assisted dying recently? But maybe not many more. Most votes are eminently forgettable. “The average division list,” wrote Peter G Richards in 1970, “is not an exciting or revealing document.”
Yet every now and again zingers occur. One that would certainly qualify was the vote late in the evening of 8 May 1940, which is the subject of a fascinating article just published in the journal Parliamentary History. The opening lines of the article claim it as “the most important vote ever” given its consequences for Britain and the rest of the world. I guess this is moot, but since it led directly to the resignation of Neville Chamberlain and his replacement as prime minister by Winston Churchill at the head of a multi-party coalition two days later, if it isn’t the most important, it must at the very least be one of the most important votes ever held.
Formally on the adjournment, the division followed a two-day debate on the conduct of the war. It came just over a month after the German invasion of Norway and several weeks after the evacuation of British troops – hence why it is often known as the Norway debate – but the debate ranged much wider. Things were looking dicey. “At no point in the last war,” said Churchill closing for the government, “were we in greater peril than we are now.”
The opening lines of the article claim it as “the most important vote ever” given its consequences for Britain and the rest of the world
When the debate began, there was no anticipation that it would end with a vote, but it soon revealed the depths of disquiet on the government benches. As well as resulting in one of the most consequential votes, the debate also contains one of the most famous parliamentary speeches: Leo Amery’s attack on the government, which ended by quoting Oliver Cromwell: “You have sat too long here for any good you have been doing. Depart, I say, and let us have done with you. In the name of God, go”. Labour forced a vote, which became a de facto vote of confidence. The government won, comfortably, 281 to 200, but with a vastly reduced majority, and it was clear things had to change.
Given the importance of the vote, it is surprising that so many different claims are made about the size of the government rebellion, put variously anywhere from 33 to 44 votes against, along with a much vaguer large number of abstentions. The confusion is caused both by some sloppy reporting on the one hand, but also by genuine differences of definition.
Some accounts just include Conservative MPs; others include the National Labour and National Liberal MPs; some include a handful of independent MPs, but who were usual supporters of the government. The new article pins the correct figure of cross-voters at 39 MPs who were in receipt of the government whip. There was also a sizeable number of abstentions, between 30 and 40.
Even more important, however, is the composition of those 39. Most accounts of the vote focus on the die-hard anti-appeasers, those who had followed Churchill and Anthony Eden prior to the war. Yet this group amounted to just 14 of the rebels. A rebellion by this group could have been shrugged off. What made the vote so damaging was the involvement of a wider group of another 25 MPs, mostly previously loyal – but who had had enough.
Indeed, as the article makes clear, on the morning of the vote, the intention of the anti-appeasers had been merely to abstain; it was only when they realised that a head of steam had built up that they decided they had to vote against. It is a classic example of the importance in parliamentary terms of the normally loyal. Governments get into trouble – in 1940, as in 2026 – when they lose the solid middle.
Further reading: S Ball, The Rebel MPs in the ‘Norway Debate’ Division of 8 May 1940, Parliamentary History (2026)
