FOR a politician said by his critics to despise the press, the welcome was remarkably warm. Michael Martin exuded bonhomie as guests, including reporters from The Scotsman, Guardian and Daily Telegraph, were invited to enjoy the hospitality and tour his lavish state apartments, recently refurbished at a cost of around £700,000.
The event was a parliamentary awards ceremony for international journalists who had contributed most to the preservation of democracy. The award is named after Speaker Abbott, who 200 years ago ensured that reporters had access to the Commons, having
been unable to gain access to the chamber to hear Pitt the Younger announce the resumption of the war against France.
The current Speaker, perhaps to counter the reputation created for him in the right-wing press, made clear that Westminster's motley crew of hacks were "very welcome", as he chatted to them before retaking the chair in the Commons chamber later that night. But one journalist not present was the Daily Mail sketch-writer Quentin Letts, who famously dubbed Mr Martin "Gorbals Mick" and has long argued that he is a dud as Speaker.
Events of the past fortnight have cast the media spotlight firmly back on Mr Martin. Now MPs of all sides are daring to ask a question considered very bad form in the corridors of power – namely: is it now time for Speaker Martin to stand aside?
At the centre of the furore is Mr Martin's role in the police raid on the parliamentary office of Conservative MP Damian Green. MPs believe the Speaker should have done more to protect them from the law.
Some suspect Mr Martin of delusions of grandeur, a problem magnified by a Sun-day newspaper story yesterday suggesting he was determined to remain Speaker after the general election. Mr Martin's spokesman told The Scotsman that the story was not wholly accurate. She said the Speaker recognised he served two constituencies – the people of Glasgow North East, and his 645 fellow MPs in the House of Commons – and he "would continue as long as his constituents want him to".
But how long do MPs want him to remain? Not much longer, if a BBC poll of MPs yesterday is true. A survey for Radio 4's The World This Weekend found that 32 of the 90 backbench MPs who agreed to answer questions about the Speaker said they had lost confidence in him.
Sir Malcolm Rifkind, the former for-eign secretary, said he was "greatly surprised and very, very disturbed" at Mr Martin's role in the Damian Green affair and he would not "go down as one of the great Speakers of the House of Commons".
Such assessments are familiar of a man whose gruff Glasgow accent is alone enough to attract hostility at Westminster. He entered Parliament in 1979 as Labour MP for Glasgow Springburn, having left school at 15 to become a sheet-metal worker. His first parliamentary job was as a bag-carrier for Denis Healey, the former Labour chancellor.
Mr Martin was a controversial appointment as Speaker in October 2000. He followed another Labour MP, Betty Boothroyd, and his selection ignored the recent tradition of the Speaker being drawn alternately from Labour and Tory benches. The Tories had wanted party grandee Sir George Young, but when Labour made it known that it was prepared to use its substantial majority to impose Speaker Martin, he was selected by 370 votes to eight after 11 other candidates were defeated in "knock-out" rounds.
He became the first Catholic Speaker since the Reformation, and was a teetotaller to boot, having moved on from his days of under-age drinking in Glasgow. "Speaker Martin's malt whisky" – a ten-year-old Macallan featuring a sketch of bagpipes to show his love of piping – was not selected by him, but by 16 friends.
Some Tories have since suspected Mr Martin of favouring his own side in debates, once preventing David Cameron from asking then-PM Tony Blair who he wanted as the next Labour Party leader. Recently Mr Martin called Labour troublemaker Dennis Skinner at Prime Minister's Questions, in what the Tories believe was a move designed to ramp up the pressure on shadow chancellor George Osborne over the Corfu yacht affair. But most whispered comments against the Speaker tend to question his competence, not his class.
One former Labour minister told The Scotsman that he suspected Mr Martin would aim to continue until the general election to secure his seat, renamed Glasgow North East, for his son, the Labour MSP Paul Martin. This timeline would also suit the government. Speakers who retire before the end of a parliament traditionally leave the Commons immediately – which would result in another tricky Glasgow by-election for Gordon Brown.
But the former minister said he believed Mr Martin would be unlikely to be re-elected Speaker if he chose to stand again after the general election. A combination of the Damian Green fiasco and Tory opposition would make the current Deputy Speaker, former Tory MP Sir Alan Haselhurst, the favourite, he said.
The rumpus over the decision to spend around £700,000 of public money refurbishing Speaker's House was typical of how some media outlets love to twist the facts against Mr Martin. Speaker's House is a little-known national treasure, a Grade I listed part of the Palace of Westminster situated at the foot of Big Ben. Essentially, it is a collection of state rooms used for official engagements – not for Mr Martin and his wife, Mary, to live like royalty. It is as much Mr Martin's home as 10 Downing Street is that of the Prime Minister (though he has a personal apartment within the rooms).
Mr Martin also faced criticism when he was found to have claimed £75,000 in parliamentary allowances for his constituency home over the last six years, despite not having a mortgage (though he broke no rules and made one of the smallest claims in Parliament), while Mrs Martin was criticised – but later cleared by an inquiry – after running up a £4,200 taxi bill shopping for receptions at Speaker's House.
Mr Martin has also attracted strong criticism – arguably more fairly directed – over his court battle to prevent full disclosure of MPs' expenses, as required under Freedom of Information legislation.
In his corner, he has union bosses such as Derek Simpson, joint general secretary of Unite, who accused the Tories of mounting a "witch-hunt" on Mr Martin because he was working class. Mr Simpson said: "He is a proud man with strong working-class roots but that has made him a target for the silver-spoon Tories who want a Speaker schooled at Eton rather than a former sheet-metal worker."
Three famous faces who imposed order in the HouseONE was a former member of the Tiller Girls dance troupe; another carried a thimble in his pocket to remind him of his humble upbringing as a tailor; the third was a 1970s colossus with a voice that resonated through the valleys.
Commons speakers Betty Boothroyd, Bernard Weatherill and George Thomas were known throughout the land, each of them invariably respected more than the leaders of the warring front benches over which they tried to keep the peace.
Ms (now Baroness) Boothroyd began her political career as an adviser to Barbara Castle, the formidable Labour Cabinet minister, and contested seats unsuccessfully in 1968 and 1970 before being elected as MP for West Bromwich in 1973. She was Speaker from 1992 to 2000, and won the parliamentarian of the year award in her first year in the chair.
The former dancing girl, with a gravelly voice from a 20-a-day cigarette habit, was often compared to a Coronation Street barmaid with her no-nonsense approach to the job. "Right, time's up," she declared after her first Prime Minister's Questions.
She was preceded by Bernard "Jack" Weatherill, Speaker from 1983-92. It was during this time that Commons proceedings were televised, guaranteeing Speaker Weatherill – the last Speaker to wear a wig – national fame.
He had entered the family firm in Savile Row at the age of 17 and, on the advice of his mother, always carried a thimble to remind him of his humble upbringing and the need for humility. He was highly regarded on all sides of the House for his gentlemanly courtesy.
George Thomas, who became Lord Tonypandy after leaving the Commons, served as Speaker from 1976-83. He was deeply religious, and first elected as an MP, representing Cardiff, in 1945 – the year that brought Clement Attlee's Labour government to power. The son of a miner, he was the only one of his family to enjoy a full education and he became a teacher in London before entering parliament.
But it was Speaker Lenthall who is regarded as the greatest protector of democracy – and whose legacy has been contrasted with the apparent meekness of Speaker Martin. When King Charles I stormed the Commons in 1642 and tried to arrest five MPs for treason, he was met by resistance from Speaker Lenthall, who declared that he had "neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak" but as he was directed by his fellow MPs – and, as such, would not follow the King's orders.
