Could Tory rebels be unleashed on Clegg's Lords reform?

Unglamorous changes to the upper chamber could end up as a chew toy for frustrated Tory backbenchers

Of the many things a government might want to make a priority at a time of economic crisis and international instability, reforming the House of Lords is an eccentric choice.

Most of the public, it is safe to say, is uninterested in how the upper chamber works. Within the minority that understands the Lords, a still smaller number is so affronted by the lack of electoral accountability there as to want immediate constitutional redress. There is no clamour for a reform, which, as the Times reports this morning, will require protracted trench warfare between the government and recalcitrant peers, most of whom would end up at some stage facing eviction from a mostly elected legislature. Not surprisingly, a large number of ennobled turkeys are against a Bill for More Christmas.

The Times reports that a hardcore of 20 Tory peers are threatening to go on strike - sabotaging the whole legislative programme for the next parliamentary session if plans to create elected peers go ahead.

The reform is only being mooted because Nick Clegg needs - or at least feels he needs - a concrete constitutional reform in his legacy, having failed to secure a change to the electoral system. A Lords Reform Bill is planned for the Queen's speech in May to give Lib Dems some badge of institutional modernisation when, in the run-up to the next election, they draw up their balance sheet of manifesto pledges implemented and promises jettisoned in coalition. It would, in any case, be a purely symbolic victory for the party faithful. No-one seriously thinks the creation of an elected second chamber will earn the instant gratitude of tens of millions of citizens.

But from where the Lib Dems are standing, even modest trophies are better than none. Can they even secure that much? The prospect of a fierce rebellion among peers is certainly a problem, not least because it plays to fears among Conservative MPs in the Commons that the whole issue is about to snarl up the legislative works. This objection surfaced just before the parliamentary recess in Deputy Prime Minister's Questions (the mostly unwatched monthly cousin to the headline-grabbing weekly PMQs session). Back bench Tories have been pestering Clegg on the question of why, when the economy is plainly the issue that must take precedence, he seems determined to waste everyone's time (as they see it) with a reform that is, at best, half baked. It isn't yet clear what powers the elected peers would have relative to their unelected bench-fellows and how their relationship with the Commons would change.

One prospect that worries senior Lib Dems is that David Cameron's relations with his own backbenchers will get testier as time goes on. The warm glow of Tory admiration for the PM's European (non) veto in December has already worn off and there is increasing irritation with the number of concessions perceived to be granted to keep Clegg's party happy. At some point, Cameron will have to find some pressure valve to enable his party's rebellious rank and file to express its fury. What better mechanism than a vote on Lords reform? It is an issue on which most people would expect the Conservative party to take a conservative view and that will animate few passions outside Westminster.

Downing Street could never be seen actively to encourage a rebellion against a government Bill, but Cameron could decide how ruthlessly he wants to whip his MPs in favour. As one Lib Dem close to Clegg put it to me recently, Lords reform could be used as "the bit of the garden where it is safe to let them off the leash for a bit." Essentially, Cameron would put on a show of trying to help Clegg get his reform but would not invest too much of his own political capital in forcing it through an unhappy Commons.

Meanwhile, Labour's position is still officially to like the idea of Lords reform in principle but to sneer at Clegg's plan of an 80% elected chamber as not ambitious enough, although in reality this is high-minded cover for wanting to retain the option of making the Lib Dem leader squirm. So a half-decent Tory rebellion could see Lords Reform defeated in the Commons. The whole thing has the makings of a disaster for Clegg - another "miserable compromise" on a constitutional change that no-one can get very excited about, sabotaged by Tories itching to rein in Lib Dem influence and a Labour party disinclined to ride to the rescue.

Rafael Behr is political columnist at the Guardian and former political editor of the New Statesman

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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