Deselection: A Beginner’s Guide
4 min read
We need a whipping system for our parliamentary democracy to function. But we should spare a thought for the deselected: MPs are human after all, writes Jamie Reed
On Monday of this week, twenty-one Members of Parliament went to Westminster to represent their constituents, consciences and party, unprepared for the fact that by 10pm on Tuesday, the political party to which they had devoted so much of their lives would eject them from its ranks.
The group were – understandably – lauded for defying their party machine, choosing instead to represent their constituents in accordance with their consciences. Equally, the conscientious objectors were castigated for refusing to adhere to the ordinary norms of parliamentary discipline upon which parties of both government and opposition depend.
Away from the misty-eyed tropes that sought to channel James Stewart and Martin Bell, the truth is that a functioning Parliament requires an effective whipping system; this is the basis upon which legislation is passed and resisted, change achieved, manifestos delivered and upon which countries are run.
Harsh, but true. In many ways, Tuesday’s ejections resemble a no-fault divorce; the Whips had real justification for expulsion, the refuseniks had real justification in following their consciences at a time of national crisis.
But beneath the high-drama, there are people in a unique kind of emotional turmoil.
In part, I left Parliament due to the fact that I considered it to be inevitable that the Brexit process would play out exactly as it has done. I remain in admiration of those who thought it would play out differently, but it never could and it was never going to. It’s equally true that I received a number of ‘deselection threats’ before departing, and so I have a little insight into how those de-frocked MPs might now feel.
Despite being delegitimised as sentient carbon-based life forms since the expenses scandal, believe it or not, MPs are human beings. Having spoken with a number of people who have been subjected to the threat of deselection, it’s clear to me that the threat (quite apart from the act itself) is enough to bring about a remarkable shift in mindset amongst those subject to the threat.
Belonging to a political party, let alone representing that party in Parliament, is more than belonging to a club, gang, team or band (trust me, I’ve been in them all). It’s like belonging to a family. You find an expression of yourself within it; your cares, your passions, your beliefs, even your purpose. In a strange, intangible way, you kind of love it…you are part of the tribe and the tribe is part of you. It’s a strange passion that the uninitiated cannot understand and it’s precisely why activists of all persuasions give their time, money, energy and effort to the party capable of making their pulse race.
Odd, I know.
To find yourself on the outside of the herd, unwanted by the tribe, disowned by the family is, frankly, painful.
The pain of abnegation is worsened by the fact that it has been caused by a faithful adherence to the ideas, principles and passions which caused you to devote your life to the party in the first place.
Ultimately, the clichéd break-up norms set in; “It’s not me, it’s you…”
And soon, the night ends, the sun rises, confidence surges. Liberated, the sense of purpose returns like never before. Most politics is based upon compromise in some way, shape or form. It always will be. But there will always be times when the compromise asked of individuals by the groups to which they belong becomes an intellectual and even moral impossibility.
We should celebrate the fact that our legislature contains people of all stripes with the strength to observe their consciences in times of extremis. We should recognise that we need a whipping system for our democracy to function and we should spare a thought for the deselected: MPs are human after all.
Finally, ask yourself this: if keeping your career meant that you had to pretend to believe in things that caused you profound offense, or to commit acts that you knew to be wrong, would you have the guts to resist? In politics, self-respect is one of the most powerful drivers of all.
Jamie Reed was Labour MP for Copeland from 2005 to 2017
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