A war of robust, rollicking words in British Commons

LONDON, ENGLAND–My addiction developed honestly and at a very early age and it's something I inherited from my father who dragged my mother off to see John Diefenbaker deliver a stump speech while my parents were honeymooning back in the late 1950s. This was a notion I grew to believe totally romantic and always admired my father for it. And while my father took me to Leafs games, Disneyworld, and more, it was the historic places he insisted we visit, often involving politics and stories from Canadian, American and British history, where his passions emerged. On my first childhood visit to Parliament Hill–where I barfed on a Mountie in Red Serge when my parents posed me for the obligatory tourist shot–sorry!–I recall my dad telling me about J.S. Woodsworth and John Diefenbaker. Another time, he took me to Kingston to visit Sir John A. Macdonald's grave, where I didn't vomit, and to FDR's home at Hyde Park, Jefferson's Monticello, and more. So as an adult, it seemed perfectly normal to, for example, ask my now wife to marry me while standing on the Hill, to set the wedding date for Sir John A. Macdonald's birthday, and to put that fact on our wedding invitation. My wife has learned to live with the fact that political history is part of every trip we take. Since 1997, I've dragged her to every historical site in Canada as well as to the hometowns and birthplaces of Warren Harding, Calvin Coolidge, Chester Arthur, and too many U.S. presidential libraries to mention. By this year, however, she'd had enough. When I announced that I wanted to go to England for the first time, she put her foot down. So it was that I was standing on a sidewalk, solo, in front of the Mother of all Parliaments earlier this month and a 'man' by the name of Cromwell stared down at me. Yup, I thought, I'm finally here–this political history junkie's Mecca. I entered the British Parliament Buildings and attended the Prime Minister's Questions (PMQs, those around me were all calling it). I took a seat in the Distinguished Strangers' Gallery. While I've definitely been called 'strange' before, it's rare the day I'm noted as being 'distinguished.' I liked this place already. I was immediately struck at how small the Commons really is. The benches only provide room for 437 of the 646 Members. Because it was the final PMQ before Tony Blair's resignation announcement, the place was packed. MPs crowd around the Speaker, others stand, and the air hangs heavy with political anticipation. No one is disappointed. "'Cameron conservatism is ... an attempt to shift the theory of the State from a provision-based paradigm to a framework-based paradigm,'" PM Blair says, leaning confidently across the famous dispatch boxes, in response to a question hurled at him from Opposition Leader David Cameron, and quoting a Conservative MP's remarks from the day before. "'The provision-theory of the modern State is the successor to socialism in the post-Marxist era.' It concludes with the words: 'It all goes back to Marx.'" Members on both sides cheer at a well-delivered shot from the PM. Blair, a 10-year prime minister who looks as confident at the dispatch boxes as Wayne Gretzky does on skates, delivers a perfectly-timed ending before again taking his seat on the treasury benches. "That is Groucho, I assume," he says with a confident grin as the MPs and those of us in the galleries explode with laughter. As for Mr. Cameron, he and his own front bench colleagues nod as if saluting their opponent for delivering such an excellent shot. "Good one, Centurion," I imagine them saying among themselves in true Monty Python fashion. But Blair leaves the 30-minute session unscathed. Conservative MP Sir Peter Tapsell–who first arrived at Westminster when Harold Macmillan was prime minister–catches Mr. Speaker's eye. "At this transitory phase in the right hon. gentlemen's political life, may I commend him for managing to portray, despite the deep disillusionment of his fellow countrymen with his premiership, an optimism that eluded King James II and would have delighted Walter Mitty?" Sir Peter says to Blair to cheers and hoots and hollers. "Some things are never transitory, and the hon. gentlemen is one of them," Blair replies, honouring his interrogator before unsheathing his own Parliamentary sword. "As my right hon. friend the chancellor has just reminded me, King James was not elected three times as Prime Minister." Foreigner that I am, I can only conclude that Sir Peter and the Prime Minister have reached a draw. I'm later in a London pub. "That's quite a show you folks have in Parliament," I say to the man next to me. "I'd take that over the best seats at the best show in London right now." "From Canada are you," he replies, "and you flew over here to see that lot? Strange." A distinguished stranger no longer but I'm happy just the same. Kingston's Arthur Milnes has been contributing to The Hill Times for more than 10 years. Both British Rail and Visit Britain partly subsidized his trip to the U.K. The Political Traveller will appear occasionally in the coming months. news@hilltimes.com The Hill Times

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A war of robust, rollicking words in British Commons

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