Econ_May_05

The Economist

May 5th 2018

HE hardest times came well into the

night. At late sittings in the House,

tended to get rowdy. That was when Mi-

chael Martin felt most on his own. He got

nervous about his job, which was to keep

them all in order, give them permission to

speak, stop them from being long-winded,

andmake thembehave. It helpedhimthen

to think of the Commons as a great big

machine that had to be maintained. As a

sheet-metal worker and an engineer, first

for the North British Locomotive Com-

pany and then for Rolls-Royce, that was a

job he knewhewas good at.

There had been Speakers from humble

backgrounds before. But he was the first to

have grown up in slums, the backcourts of

Anderston in north Glasgow, with a father

either raising hell fromdrinkor not there at

all. Hewas the first to haveworked in a fac-

tory, cutting metal with shears in the days

before lasers. And then, in 2000, the Com-

mons chose him to be one of the principal

officers of the land. Neither the govern-

ment nor the monarch could dismiss him.

He had his own apartment and public re-

ception rooms in the Palace of Westmin-

ster. And every morning when Parliament

sat he would process to the chamber with

his private chaplain, his secretary and the

Sergeant at Arms, while a trainbearer held

up his black silk robe.

He soon dispensed with some of the

flummery. The stockings, buckled shoes

and knee breeches were swapped for dark

flannel trousers and Oxford shoes. His

white hair framed his broad red face well

enoughwithout awig. He originally reject-

ed a coat-of-arms as a silly distraction, but

then enjoyed putting his own symbols on

it: a chanter for the bagpipes he loved play-

ing, a 12-inch rule from his metal-cutting

days, and a fish to represent Glasgow and

one ofthemiracles ofStMungo. For hewas

also the first Catholic to be Speaker since

Reformation times, when Thomas More,

another saint, had done the job. Hismotto,

inGaelic, was “I strive to be fair”.

That was the essence of his job, and it

was tricky. The Speaker could favour no

party. But, like all Speakers, he was still a

constituency

. Since 1979 he had held a

solid Labour majority in Glasgow Spring-

burn. This was where he had first gone to

work at “the Loco” at 15, with very little

schooling. As a long-time shop steward

and organiser for the engineering union,

he hadwon the seatwithheftyunionhelp.

His constituency was infested with heroin

addiction, alcoholism, decrepit housing

(his chief concern) and, as the old plants

closed down, joblessness. He was mindful

that he had joined the Labour Party and

gone into politics to helpworking people.

Too mindful, maybe. As Speaker, he

went on being chummy with Labour

in the members’ tearoom. Some said he

also indulged them in the House. He even

intervened from the Chair himself in fa-

vour of Labour government policy. This

was not Speakerly behaviour. But on the

other hand the

he once rebuked for her

“pearls ofwisdom” (more unSpeakerly be-

haviour) was from the Labour side. And he

insisted in 2003 that the House should de-

bate an amendment critical of Tony Blair’s

decision to go to war in Iraq. He had long

known he would not make a minister. But

he always felt, as he worked his way slow-

ly upwards through various committees,

that he could hold things fairly together.

What faced him on the other side was

snobbery and disrespect. That rollingGlas-

wegian accent reminded southerners of

pub brawls on Saturday nights. His posh

diary secretary called him “Mr Martin”,

not “Mr Speaker”. His private secretary,

public school and Oxbridge, struck him as

pompous. Both left. Because he was not

tooproud to askhis clerks for advice during

debates, critics said he was floundering in

his job. The parliamentary sketchwriters,

the worst of the mockers, called him “Gor-

bals Mick”. That was brainless—he was

from north of the Clyde, the Gorbals lay

south. It also proved they were not fit to

wipe the boots ofGorbals people.

He defended Parliament just as robust-

ly. That was his job as Speaker, but it was

also his undoing. In 2008 journalists dis-

covered that

s had claimed from the

Fees Office, which he controlled, large

sums for second homes, moat-cleaning,

duck houses and the like. They demanded

full public disclosure of expenses, and re-

forms. He refused, wanting only to know

who had leaked the data to the press. Un-

fortunately he had stretched the rules him-

self, spending £1.7m on doing up Speaker’s

House and letting family members use his

official air miles. All this, added to the rest

ofit, led

s tourge himto go. InMay 2009

he acceded. He was the first Speaker to be

forced fromoffice in 300 years.

Not beaten yet

In leaving, he was as defiant as ever. His

speech lasted 34 seconds. He would have

stayed, he said later, if the press had not at-

tacked hiswife (who had run up £4,000 for

taxis) as a steel-smelter’s daughter. He left

to keep unity in the House, not because

“they” had beaten him. They had not.

He picked up a peerage as he left, as

Speakers do. He became Lord Martin of

Springburn. His old constituency, now

GlasgowNorth East, had prospered on his

watch. The shuttered Wills cigarette fac-

tory in Dennistoun was now a high-tech

hub, and on the site of his sooty tenement

in Anderston stood a five-star hotel. He re-

turned home as lord indeed.

Order and disorder

LordMartin of Springburn,156th Speakerof theHouse ofCommons, died on

April 29th, aged 72

Obituary

Michael Martin

РЕЛИЗ ПОДГОТОВИЛА ГРУППА "What's News"

VK.COM/WSNWS