A Litany of Scandals

But these two high-profile scandals are far from the only examples. We have seen the Greensill lobbying row involving David Cameron. There has been widespread anger over second jobs for MPs and the government’s attempts to change parliamentary standards rules to protect Owen Paterson from being disciplined for his alleged breach of lobbying rules.

There have also been questions over donor funding of Boris Johnson’s Downing Street flat refurbishment, and the awarding of billions of pounds of Covid-19 contracts to a ‘VIP list’ of companies without following the usual procurement processes. The latter was recently judged by the High Court to be unlawful—and yet the politicians responsible have so far not received so much as a slap on the wrist.

So, ‘Partygate’ can’t be seen in isolation. It is a story of a government and political class that habitually betrays the public trust. It’s just that, on this occasion, the betrayal was even more stark. As the British public diligently followed lockdown rules, some facing the heartbreak of being unable to visit unwell or dying loved ones, the rule makers behaved as if they were not accountable to anyone. As it has dawned on the government the depth of public anger, they have sought to spin a web to cover for their behaviour. This web in turn has caught the Prime Minister, who has now been fined by the police for attending a party for his birthday in No 10 and faces an inquiry into claims he misled parliament.

One thing is clear: this stream of scandals has had a corrosive effect on our democracy. After years of austerity economics, which made it clearer than ever that our politicians do not serve the people who elect them, this deterioration in our representative structures is likely to lead to further fraying of the social fabric. Public perception of politics has moved very little despite legislative activity to enforce standards in public life and the creation of the Standards Committee within Parliament—and this latest scandal shows us why.

Honesty Matters

Recently, the Citizens Assembly on Democracy and University College London posed the question ‘What kind of democracy do people want?’ Among the 6,500 respondents, 98 per cent agreed that standards were still not strong enough and that ‘lying or intentionally misleading Parliament’ should be identified as ‘contempt of Parliament’.

Interestingly, when asked to ‘imagine that a future prime minister has to choose between acting honestly and delivering the policy that most people want’, 71 per cent said it would be better if he or she acted honestly and only 16 per cent preferred delivery. When asked about a range of characteristics that politicians should have, ‘being honest’ came top, followed by ‘owning up when they make mistakes’. ‘Getting things done’ and ‘being inspiring’ were far behind.

These are important lessons for those of us on the Left to learn. Too often during this scandal, the question of public trust in elected officials has been dismissed, as if it was something naive. We may have deeper criticisms of the political system than many in our society—but we must also aspire to represent the will of the people. And in this case, the public is entitled to demand that politicians who make rules are held accountable to them.

Honesty in politics is a baton we must pick up. I would assert that a truly honest politician is one with clarity of beliefs, conviction, and the ability to persuade—not simply shift position to what is most politically advantageous at a given time. I believe that these are characteristics embodied by any principled socialist.

Principled Politics

Of course, there are many political commentators and politicians who would disagree. They would argue that relying on honesty and conviction is its own form of naivety and a losing political strategy. ‘If parties want to win general elections, they have to tell the people what they want to hear’, the argument goes.

Looking back at history we can see that none of this is new. The broadcaster John Humphreys once wrote about the classic contest between the nineteenth-century prime ministers Gladstone and Disraeli. He contrasted Gladstone’s ‘high-principled moralism’—a man ‘of strong convictions under the sun’—with Disraeli, ‘the dodger and weaver, who would change his position on almost anything with lightning speed.’

Yet despite the clear differences between them, both won elections. And, indeed, both achieved considerable political reform. So, we must ask ourselves, if both approaches can work, which one should the Labour Party choose?

I know which one I choose, and there is no clearer example in our party’s history of the triumph of conviction politics than in the premiership of Clement Attlee. Jim Callaghan once referred to him as ‘a quiet politician with considerable subtle skills, bringing the same decency, honesty, and integrity in public life as he showed in his private behaviour.’ After leading Labour for twenty years and implementing the most radical reform programme our country has ever seen, Attlee achieved not because he had the charisma of a film star, nor the dark arts of spin and political subterfuge, but because of his honesty, ability to persuade, and his commitment to democratic socialist principles.

Interestingly, he was ill at ease with media appearances. But on occasions when he did speak to the public, he did so in a manner resembling that of a bank manager, articulating Labour’s radical policies in an honest manner that sounded sensible and matter-of-fact. The public liked this honesty, and at a time of great change, it was reassuring. He was not reacting to ever-changing headwinds; he was trying to ensure that Labour’s vision became common sense.

Clement Attlee was trusted by the people because he took the question of accountability seriously. And, by introducing the National Health Service, unemployment protection, building new towns and social housing, and ensuring public ownership of key sectors of the economy, that Labour government delivered on the trust placed in it by the public.

The philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau once wrote that ‘those who desire to treat politics and morals separately will never understand anything of either.’ He was right, and a commitment to our principles is the only way to win the Labour government we need.