Judging the honesty of British politics
One of the great things about the British political system is its extraordinary integrity and honesty. Everyone says so. It’s so clean. Ask any politician; they’ll tell you.
By Robert Shrimsley
The moral state of the UK political realm is not quite as clean as it likes to think
One of the great things about the British political system is its extraordinary integrity and honesty. Everyone says so. It’s so clean. Ask any politician; they’ll tell you.
Of course, we turn up the odd bad apple every now and then – that’s unavoidable. Obviously, the jailing of Chris Huhne this week was disappointing. He let the side down. But the striking thing is how low-grade our scandals are when they do crop up, and how thoroughly we jump on them. Everyone says so. The British political system is among the most honest in the world. Ask any politician; they’ll tell you.
A UK politician only has to break the law and he’ll be sent to prison. That’s how upstanding we are.
That’s why we do so enjoy a good international comparison of integrity. Look at Italy, our political class will say; consider Silvio Berlusconi, for heaven’s sake. In Spain, the prime minister is mired in corruption allegations. Think of all the French leaders who have been embroiled in corruption allegations: Jacques Chirac, Alain Juppé, Pierre Bérégovoy – top-drawer people. And unlike France or Italy, there’s no immunity in high office here. In the US, we’ve seen the jailing of former House majority leader Tom DeLayfor money-laundering and a former Illinois governor serving 14 years for trying to sell Barack Obama’s Senate seat when he became president.
In that context, we are spotless. We couldn’t imagine a high-office holder – a home secretary or a chancellor of the exchequer – lobbying for contracts and public funds on behalf of a businessman who paid him and employed his son. Well, apart from Reginald Maudling, of course, but, look, that was years ago and we’ve tightened up a lot since then. It’s true “Reggie” avoided prosecution but that’s because he was a first-class chap and no one wanted to humiliate him. But if you are going to dredge up stuff from decades back, you’ll be talking about David Lloyd George selling peerages next. We’ve changed the rules; you wouldn’t get away with that sort of thing now. Ask any politician; they’ll tell you.
You can mention “cash for peerages”, “cash for questions” and “cash for access” all you like. No one was ever charged.
It’s true, there were those expenses scandals of late. But, honestly, we’re talking about a few grand here or there. And it’s not as if they were misappropriating public funds. OK, technically, they were – but in tiny amounts. That’s not the same as real corruption, is it? And what did they really do? Claim reimbursement for non-existent mortgages or falsify invoices for a company that never existed. In the US, Congressman Jesse Jackson Jr diverted $750,000 in campaign funds to buy himself treats such as a $40,000 Rolex and a hat worn by Michael Jackson. When you consider that, swiping a few grand from the taxpayer with a false mortgage application barely counts.
Four MPs and two peers have been jailed so far. Six parliamentarians in a couple of years; that just shows how good we are at clearing up our mess. It’s not as if it is systemic or that parliament bent over backwards to stop the information coming out. And besides, we have officials to regulate MPs’ behaviour, and they can be pretty tough. At least one has been forced out for getting a little bit too forensic in her investigations. But then do you really want
do-gooders undermining the reputation of the most honest political system in the world?
As for Huhne, all he did was pervert the course of justice – that’s not real dishonesty, is it? I know you’ll bring up Jonathan Aitken, the last cabinet minister to be jailed before Huhne. But he only committed perjury to win a libel action. The idea that he might get his daughter to lie in the witness box on his behalf is a bit rum but his admiring biography of Richard Nixon might, with hindsight, have been a clue to his approach to truth.
So Mr Aitken was a special case; a one-off. Well, apart from Lord Archer, the former Conservative deputy chairman, jailed for committing perjury to win a libel action. OK, it was a two-off. So that’s two cabinet ministers, a Tory deputy chairman, four MPs and two peers jailed in 15 years. Is that many?
The key thing to remember about all our crimes is that they were isolated piffling events involving tiny sums of money. We lack the sweep and grandeur of some foreign scandals. That’s something to be smug about, surely. So, perhaps our politics isn’t quite as clean as we’d like to think but it’s a lot less ambitious in its criminality.
Ask any politician; they’ll tell you. Copyright The Financial Times Limited 2013.
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