THE carpeted corridors of the Houses of Parliament are well-insulated from the hustle and bustle of London's streets. From the inside, the chants of the ubiquitous megaphone protesters in nearby Parliament Square are barely audible.
Within the "bubble", where MPs from opposing parties meet and greet each other with chummy familiarity, the outside world can often seem suddenly distant. Last week, that bubble was well and truly obliterated. In the heat of the moment, it is easy to
exaggerate the impact of a particular scandal, but few are disputing this weekend that the very future of British democracy is under threat, as the seemingly endless catalogue of financial abuses committed by MPs of every party emerges. In a speech to the Scottish Conservatives in Perth on Friday last week, David Cameron even suggested it could help to break up Britain. For haunted MPs, the comfort and peace of their parliament can no longer offer shelter from the disaster which they have brought upon themselves.
The astonishing extent of the abuse of their expenses shocked even some of the MPs themselves. "Before all this came out I was worried that I'd get hauled up for a claim I'd made to buy a washing machine for my London flat," says one Labour MP. "Then I saw what everyone else was claiming. I couldn't believe it." The return to their constituencies on Friday was agony. Some found themselves being jeered in the street. Others noticed that constituents refused to look them in the eye. One MP who called up BT on Friday to verify his phone bill found himself apologising about his job to the sales rep. He added: "I feel like going round saying to people: 'Hello, I'm your MP and I'm sorry about that.'" Tory MP David Davies said that MPs were now considering quitting – even if they had done nothing wrong – as they feared they would be seen "as a thief on the make". He said: "A lot of people are saying, 'What's it all about, should we get out, have I had enough?' And I think a lot of them will find the public will be helpful in pushing them in that direction anyway."
Davies's estimation of the public reaction to the seemingly endless revelations about non-existent mortgages, double-claiming, and extravagant claims for flat-screen TVs is almost certainly correct. "This is an absolute earthquake," says one Labour MP. "I do wonder whether we'll ever recover from this." There is a sense that we have reached a historic moment – when the slow decline of trust between MPs and the people has finally completely collapsed. Such is the scale of the expenses scandal, government ministers were remarking that the whole system of politics in Britain has now irrevocably broken down. In a poll this time last year, the Hansard Society found only 19 per cent thought Parliament was working for them. This weekend, the Society is warning that democracy itself is under threat. So has the expenses saga really changed British politics for good? And if so, what comes next? For many political insiders, the revelations in the Daily Telegraph were mere confirmation of a system that all those within "the bubble" had known was flawed for years. The stories about expenses abuse are legion and date back decades.
There were the four North-East MPs who shared a car to get to London, claimed mileage individually and raced a greyhound on the profits. There was the Northern Irish MP who, after putting in a huge mileage claim one month, was warned by the Fees Office (the body administering MPs expenses) that they'd worked out, for the claim to be genuine, that he would have had to have driven around his constituency non-stop for a month. One Scottish MP who was elected in 1992 recalls how, on one of his first days at Westminster, he was ushered into the Fees Office and given the rules. "Maggie (Thatcher] had decided that we weren't going to get a pay increase because of the public backlash so the rules were made clear. Put your increase on the mileage. Spread out your claims over 12 months and take cash out on a monthly basis. You could get 70p a mile. I was like, what?! But that was the culture then." The quid pro quo was simple: in return for keeping MPs' wages flat, the expenses were made available.
There was little that the Fees Office obstructed. Former Labour minister Elliot Morley was able to claim £16,000 for a mortgage that he had already paid off. Communities secretary Hazel Blears dodged capital gains tax on the sale of her London flat by designating it her primary residence. Another minister, Phil Hope, ran up a bill of £41,709 on furnishings on his own London residence. All paid the cash back last week, but the donning of the hair-shirt has seemed a little late to say the least. And only a small fraction of Westminster's 650 MPs have so far had their expenses published. The humiliation of Parliament looks set to continue.
For some MPs, the mea culpa shows the start of the road back. Scottish MP Tom Harris – who keeps a close eye on public reaction through his blog, one of the most popular at Westminster – said: "I think it could have a really damaging effect on democracy but my best guess is that provided we can prove we are above board and that we have cleaned up our act, then I think our reputation will recover." He added: "If we carry on trying to block Freedom of Information requests and so on, then that way destruction lies. I think it would be a big mistake for the House authorities to withhold any information that should be in the public domain."
Others are less sanguine. Ruth Fox, of the Hansard Society – which seeks to promote democratic engagement in the UK – is warning of "serious and long-term consequences for our democracy" from the saga. Meanwhile, Shahid Malik, the justice minister who stepped down on Friday following allegations about his own expenses, claimed the media stories focusing on expenses were in danger of "decimating" democracy.
Or did he really mean decimating the Labour party? The most obvious and immediate consequence of the scandal is likely to be a further crushing slump in its support. New polling, taken in the wake of the scandal, now places Labour on a mere 22 per cent, just three points ahead of the Liberals, and their lowest rating in government. Independent MSP Margo MacDonald, one of the most astute political observers around, believes the affair will trigger a permanent shift in the political landscape. "Margaret Thatcher changed the way the Tories were seen in Scotland. It wasn't rational and it wasn't fair but it happened and that change became permanent. I think this could have the same effect for Labour in England," she said. Labour party chiefs share her fears, pondering this weekend whether the affair will see them slump below the Liberals to become the third force in British politics.
The scandal is also likely to lead to a growth in the "anti-politician" vote. Government ministers said last week they were anticipating a surge in independent candidates at next year's general election, campaigning on the "at-least-I'm-not-one-of-them" ticket. Meanwhile, at the European elections, to be held on 4 June, the minor parties look set to benefit. The same YouGov poll on Friday found that 15 per cent of voters are preparing to back the UK Independence Party – just 5 per cent fewer than Labour. A further 6 per cent said they would back the Greens, with 3 per cent supporting the British National Party. The BNP was quick last week to seize on the mood of popular discontent. "The public can throw all these pigs, thieves, liars and crooks out of their sties by voting for us," declared chairman Nick Griffin.
Given the scandals of recent weeks, it is easy to imagine several MPs, including the Speaker Michael Martin, being challenged at the next general election by a "Mr Clean" independent. In Martin's case, it remains standard practice for the established parties to allow the Speaker a free run. But a figure in the mould of former BBC journalist Martin Bell, who successfully beat the then Tatton MP Neil Hamilton, following the cash for questions scandal in 1997, would have no such qualms.
Bell himself found it difficult to impose himself on a parliament which is physically constructed in favour of the two-party system. A cohort of independents, elected on the back of the current scandal, would wield genuine influence, however. And while it is still hard to imagine a Green or British Nationalist or UKIP MP, given the nature of Westminster's first-past-the-post system, the possibility no longer seems as outlandish as it would have appeared three weeks ago. Any breathrough by the fringe parties or a group of independents would have the effect of further eroding the authority of the three big parties.
For many MPs, particularly in the Labour camp, where defeat at those elections is now almost taken as read, it is all too much. Ground down by the daily pummelling from the media, the expenses saga has been the final straw for many. "There are loads of MPs who don't think it's a good job and if there was another job coming then they would take it like a shot," said one Labour MP. Another added: "You're going to see people saying to themselves, ah, I've had enough of this."
But in the ruins of their careers lie opportunities for others. Some MPs and parliamentary candidates argue that the scandal will lead to a new culture of service and duty. One Tory candidate, Charlotte Leslie, says she thinks of her possible future job as a "vocation". "It is like being a doctor or a vicar, to do with service and duty, not payment and career progression," she declared. If, as expected, they win the next election, the Conservatives will swing fully into austerity mode, in a bid to restore public trust. MPs, said David Cameron last week, "will only be able to claim the bare necessities: no furniture, no household goods, no food bills, no decorations." It may well be that, instead of outrage at the greed of Fat Cat MPs, the public may soon feel nausea at politicians' ingratiating puritanism.
In the short-term, the events of the past two weeks look certain to hasten the demise of the Labour government. In the longer-term, it may come to be seen as the moment when the erosion of trust between politicians and the public reached its nadir. One thing this weekend is clear: the clubby closeted world of Westminster politics has gone for good.
