The Responsibilities of Democracy

Nick Clegg, John Major

• Publisher: Haus Publishing
• Year: 2020
• ISBN:
  9781912208746
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Democracy operates on consent. That means politicians have an obligation to present and argue their causes in order to ultimately win consensus. Above all, democracy requires honesty—in facing up to challenges, acknowledging fears and dangers, and admitting the limitations of government. But democracy has its flaws, not least in the lack of efficiency in the decision-making process.Amid pressing questions about the nature and limits of democracy, both in Britain and beyond, TheResponsibilities of Democracy provides a clear-eyed perspective shared by two former politicians. Two central figures of the British political establishment, John Major and Nick Clegg, share their thoughts on where democracy is heading and how it can survive in the twenty-first century. Offering his perspective as a former prime minister, Major writes of the qualities on which a healthy democracy depends and expresses his deep concerns about the declining decorum of political exchange. Clegg brings a counter-perspective in discussing the ways in which political language has always involved trading insults and argues that echo chambers, although now more sophisticated, are nothing new. Compromise, Clegg insists, is not betrayal, but is instead the very substance of our politics and our democracy. The Responsibilities of Democracy explores the overall health of UK democracy, giving a balanced analysis of its values and flaws. It is also a clarion call to the electorate and politicians to nurture and protect the precious values on which democracy depends.

The Responsibilities of Democracy

The Rt Hon Sir John Major

As a boy in the 1950s, encouraged by two very impudent close friends, I cut my teeth as a public speaker on a soapbox, across the river in Brixton Market and, in those early days, I guess none of my friends would have imagined that one day my soapbox would be upgraded to a lectern in this beautiful and historic Abbey. I doubt, those years ago, that I imparted very much wisdom from my Brixton soapbox, but I did learn about people. No one barracked. No one told me in Brixton Market, as surely they could have done, to go away and come back when I knew something about, well, anything. Even in a crowded and busy market, people took time to stop and listen or question. No one seemed to resent me or my views, nor were they hostile, although many must have disagreed with what I said. Today, as politics has become more rancorous, I have often thought back to that time and wondered how we lost that tolerance of opposing views. Certainly, that tolerance was missing from the 2016 EU referendum campaign, when honest and thoughtful political debate was, from time to time, abandoned in favour of exaggeration, half-truths and untruths, and no one seemed either ashamed or embarrassed by this. Indeed, some revelled in it. This suggests that mendacity is acceptable, providing it panders to a popular prejudice. Such lies are then sanctioned by many who know them to be untrue and welcomed by others whose prejudices are supported by them. And if they are delivered with wit and panache, they may even be believed. Some of the media reported what was said, even when they must have known it to be improbable at best or untrue at worst and, in that way, the EU referendum showcased a deterioration in both the conduct and reporting of our politics.

There will be those who think that my subject, ‘the responsibilities of democracy’, is inappropriate for Westminster Abbey because it is a secular concern. The arts and practice of democratic politics are far removed from the higher concerns of the Church. They are wrong – as wrong, or as misguided, as those who argue that the Church should stay out of politics. It should not. Both the Church and state care for the well-being of people and, if one institution is failing them, then the other has a duty to say so. Two-way constructive criticism, if conducted civilly, is healthy and no one should shrink from it. In years gone by, the Church was sometimes criticised as ‘the Tory party at prayer’. Today, it is often told it is too left-wing. I doubt the first was ever true, and the charge of left-wing bias is trotted out whenever the Church talks about poverty. But the Church should talk about poverty. So should we all. Indeed, poverty has never been the sole preserve of the left: conservatives from William Wilberforce to David Cameron, who made overseas aid to the very poorest a signature policy, have focused upon poverty.

On occasions such as this, there are two kinds of lecture. One is uplifting and intellectual; it enlivens the conscience and leaves us pondering the higher purpose of humankind. The other, of which mine is one, has a more prosaic purpose. My lecture seeks to provoke thought about democracy, both generally and in our own country. Democracy is very precious, but how is it performing in a new world that is changing at bewildering speed? Is it doing its job? Is it at risk? Where is it failing? What is its future? In many countries today I see a distaste for politics that runs very deep. That is a danger to democracy. So inevitably my theme this evening is, in part, a cry for action where there is none and of warning where there is peril.

What is democracy? It is surely more than electing a government through a universal franchise. Elections are an expression of democracy, but the ballot box alone is insufficient. President Putin wins elections: is Russia a democracy? No, it is not. Is Turkey? Is Egypt? Even on the narrowest and meanest of definitions, the answer is no, and the same is true for many other countries that hold elections, some of which are rigged. Voting apart, these countries have few of the attributes of a genuine democracy.

My worry, my concern, is that democracy is in retreat: stifled in part by its own virtues. Democracy operates on consent. That being so, it is slower to make decisions than autocracy or outright dictatorship. Democracy must cajole, persuade and seek consensus. Not so autocracy. And this can make autocracy seem much more efficient than democracy, more decisive, more able to deliver its promises, more prompt to act in a time of crisis. The rise of non-democratic China to economic superstardom is one of the great stories of history, but there is a price to pay for her success and that price is a lack of personal freedom for the masses. For now, no doubt countless Chinese people are grateful for the economic improvement, but human nature suggests that, as their individual wellbeing grows, they will demand greater personal choice and liberty, and, if that happens – when that happens – autocracy must yield or repress. The same choice lies ahead for many countries.

At the heart of true democracy is liberty: liberty under the law. Democratic government must be freely elected for a fixed period in a universal franchise, untainted by coercion. There must be checks and balances to its authority. The rule of law must apply, even to the most powerful. The Judiciary must be independent, and there must be a free media, an independent academia and a functioning opposition, free to oppose without sanctions. Only then can freedom of speech and action be protected. But these attributes, even these attributes, are merely the trappings of democracy.

Democracy in action is more than satisfying the material demands of the majority or honouring the promises of an election manifesto. It seems to me that democratic government must govern for the future as well as the present. A governing party must govern for political opponents who did not vote for them and may never do so. It must govern for the unborn and the country they will inherit; it must govern for minorities and for the wider international community; and all governments have a responsibility to themselves for the manner in which they govern.

One has only to set out these responsibilities to see that no government, perhaps ever, has met this ideal. Government by humans, not saints, is not a vehicle for perfection. But that does not mean the imperfections of governments should be ignored or accepted. Yet today, in some parts of the world, they often are, as a disillusioned, uninterested, preoccupied or, in some cases, a cowed or misled electorate shrug their shoulders and turn away. In such a climate, there is a risk that democracy faces a threat from the rise of nationalism. This is not a theoretical threat: in many countries, it is a reality. In others, it is a clear and present danger.

In the democratic West, we have come to believe that our liberal social and economic model of democracy is unchallengeable. It is not. In 2016, as the United Nations has reported,³² 67 countries suffered a decline in political and civil liberties while only 36 had gains. What has happened in these countries can happen elsewhere. Over 20 democracies have collapsed since the mid-1990s and, as we all know, there is widespread dissatisfaction in many others.

Across Europe, our own backyard, nationalism has gained more than a foothold. It begins with a populism that masquerades as patriotism but morphs into something far less attractive. In many countries, nationalist parties have significant support. They can attract true patriots, but they are also a political vehicle for those who flavour that patriotism with xenophobia. Nationalism is authoritarian. It turns easily towards autocracy or, at worst, outright dictatorship. Nationalists hide their threat under an exaggerated love of a country, an unthinking patriotism: ‘my country, right or wrong’. Its leaders view other countries, and sometimes other races, as inferior. Nationalism is suspicious of foreigners. It accuses immigrants of ‘stealing jobs’ or in some other way undermining the ‘indigenous’ population. This has been so for hundreds of years. It is often wrong and, let it be said in this House of God, un-Christian.

There is an immense divide between nationalism and patriotism. Patriotism is more than pride in a country. A mature patriotism concerns itself with the condition of the people, as well as the prestige of the nation. Such a patriotism worries about deprivation, about opportunity, and about incentive, and it asks itself, ‘How can we spread our wealth and opportunity more evenly around our country?’ It is as concerned with the growth of foodbanks as it is with any shortage of aircraft carriers.

I fear for the loss of our broad, socially liberal attitudes. The financial crisis of 2007 and onwards led to less security, low or no growth and rising taxes, and that has created public dissatisfaction with the old, albeit fallible, politics. Anger about its shortcomings replaces cool, dispassionate judgement about its performance. Despair gives a credibility to promises of easy solutions when, in truth, there is none. Our social and economic liberalism may be fallible, but it is not some mish-mash of woolly headed do-gooders. It protects individual liberties and human rights, promotes market freedoms, ownership of property and freedom of movement. We dare not take these values, so familiar to us, for granted. We need to celebrate them, protect them and practise them. Politics must not become a playground for demagogues. Capitalism and free trade, in my view, are bulwarks of democracy. They have lifted untold millions of the poorest people in the world out of abject poverty. As trade has grown, wealth has grown. As wealth has grown, money has been spent, literacy levels have risen and fatal diseases have been eradicated. But free trade is under attack. When growth was buoyant, all was well but, after the financial crash, many workers around the world see global trade as a threat. They are told to see it as a threat, and many companies exposed to foreign competition feel the same way.

Now, there are problems here that have to be addressed. Globalism has been a force for good, but it has distributed its gains very unevenly. Individuals have gained wealth that Croesus would have envied. Global companies have driven out competitors and become mega rich. To protect itself, capitalism must be ethical and, if it is not, then opposition to it will grow. So business must confront malpractice and eliminate it. Capitalism must reform itself or government must do so for it. ‘Anything goes’ capitalism is not acceptable: it can only damage free trade and open markets and encourage protectionism, less trade, slower growth and, as a result, greater poverty. If that happens, everyone loses, but those with the least will lose the most.

Around the world, our British democracy is seen as honest, not corrupt, free, not repressive. Our legal system is widely admired and respected. Our elections are acknowledged as fair, not fixed; governments leave and enter office without violence, and they do so within a few days. Our Parliament has been a democratic model. As a nation we can, and should, be proud of all this and I am – with reservations.

Let me say, first, that I have never been among that minority of Britons who disparage our country and always side with its critics. I am, and I always will be, proud to be British. But, having seen our democracy at work over many years from the inside and for many years from the outside as a reasonably informed observer, not all is as it could be, or should be. We can do better. Our present Parliament faces an extraordinary range of complex problems. Brexit – a historic blunder in my own view, though it is not my theme for this lecture – will consume the time of this Parliament and crowd out domestic issues that are crying out for action and have done for a long time. It cannot be, but it would be better were Parliament free to focus its attention on health, on social care, on housing, on education, on transport and on deprivation. But until Brexit has been resolved, which may take years, few – if any – of these subjects will get the full attention that they merit. Nor will constitutional issues over Scotland or Northern Ireland, or the social problems of income disparity and the North–South divide, which surely cannot be permitted to continue as it is. All of these, each of them vital to the wellbeing of our country, will be secondary to the fallout from the EU referendum.

On the day I entered Downing Street in 1990, I set out an ambition to produce a country at ease with itself. For a raft of reasons I failed in that and no one has subsequently succeeded, but that objective is as important today as it was when I set it out over a quarter of a century ago.

As I said, I have reservations. To cynics, the words ‘service’ and ‘duty’ are old-fashioned, yet they are virtues that deserve praise, not scorn. To a very large extent, our public service embodies them. The Civil Service is a fundamental engine of our democracy. It has a historic memory, which protects against the errors of the past being repeated. It is politically independent. It brings balance to our system of government and yet, in the last 20 years, it has been undermined by its own political masters. When things have gone wrong, a small number of ministers, against all past practice, have blamed the Civil Service for the failure and not themselves. Political special advisers have undermined civil servants and usurped their role. The Freedom of Information Act has hampered the dispassionate advice offered to ministers because, in due course, it will be published and civil servants are not public figures in the sense that the latter’s views are expected to be made public. Ministers may decide policy, but the Civil Service must deliver it and, to do so, it trawls for ideas, delves deep into potential pitfalls, advises, cautions and prepares legislation. It is, very much, in our national interest that public service should remain a career that attracts some of the very best brains in our country. We should value it, not disparage it, and I hope that the Government will rethink some recent approaches towards special advisers. Ministers have a right to non-Civil Service advice but, as advisers are paid from the public purse, they should, I believe, be people of experience and ability. Many are, but not all. Their role needs refining. Good special advisers, with expertise and political nous, can make for better government and better liaison with the Civil Service but, over the years, a handful of advisers have acquired unjustified power that they have misused. At times, they have driven wedges between ministers and their civil servants. Some have been used as attack dogs against both their master’s political opponents and colleagues. The culprits were often protected by ministers when they should have been dismissed without ceremony. Some advisers, with intellect but little judgement, are easy prey for the media. They are flattered, wined and dined, and the naive among them talk unguardedly while the more unscrupulous leak stories – perhaps under orders – that create feuds between senior ministers and complicate policy. This is not what special advisers are appointed for. Any that behave in this fashion should go. A ‘one leak and you’re out’ policy would be a worthwhile discipline for the Prime Minister to institute across all government departments.

It is a strength of our democracy that debate on policy is fierce. That is as it should be; policy affects people’s lives. Passions can rise, and sometimes it is right that they do so, but policy disagreement is not only heard across the floor of Parliament. Too often, members of the same party are seen as opponents – not ‘one of us’, to echo an unfortunate phrase from the 1980s³³ – and this leads to rival camps being formed. And these factions, opposing wings of the same party, fight one another more vigorously than they do their opponents. This is potentially destructive of the party system, which is the main operating structure of our democracy. The old political adage ‘my opponents are opposite, my enemies are behind’ is currently apt for both our main parties, and there is a reason for this. The anti-European right wish to control the Conservative Party; the neo-Marxist left wish to dominate the Labour Party. Both are making headway in a battle for the soul of their respective political parties. But these ideological battles have dangers for our democracy. The rebellious radicals of right and left argue for partisan policies that appeal to the extremes of their party base. And as they do so, political divisions widen, consensus shrinks and a minority of the party begins to manipulate the majority. This is dangerous territory. The malcontents would be wise to remember that, without some give and take, without some effort at consensus, our tolerant party system can become ungovernable. In politics, as in life, consensus is wise not weak, and tolerance is a virtue not a failing. If fringes begin to dominate a political party, I believe the middle ground of their support will turn away in disgust, and the shrillest voices and the most extreme views will begin to dominate debate. Where that risk arises, democrats should worry. Indeed, they should do more than worry: they should fight back.

Politics has always been a rough trade. It arouses strong feelings and plain speaking, which, sometimes, can turn into abuse. A hard-boiled professional will say, ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen’. Well, maybe, but the language and tone of politics matters. It can enthuse or repel, excite or deflate, uplift or cast down. Clarify or confuse. It can examine the truth or ignore it. In the 1930s, the fascist leader Oswald Mosley used his oratory to stir up violence. During World War II, Churchill, in Ed Murrow’s memorable phrase, ‘mobilised the English language and sent it to war’. In the 1960s, the Conservative Enoch Powell inflamed opinion on immigration, and the dockers marched in his support. Oratory can change public opinion for good or for ill, and today we need it to explain increasingly complex policy in a way that is readily understood.

The world is different today from the way it was. It has decayed since the popular press fully reported speeches in Parliament. The speeches may have been dr...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Halftitle
• About the Contributors
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• The Responsibilities of Democracy
• The Coarsening of Political Language
• Notes