Tory MPs say they support civil partnerships - but did they vote for them?

Conservative MPs use the existence of civil partnerships as an argument against gay marriage but a significant number voted against them in 2004.

One of the arguments commonly deployed by opponents of equal marriage is that the existence of civil partnerships for same-sex couples means its introduction is unnecessary. Conservative MP Edward Leigh, for instance, has argued: "Same-sex couples already have all the rights of marriage in the form of civil partnership. Why must they also have the language of marriage?" Former Tory defence minister Gerald Howarth has commented: "some of my best friends are in civil partnerships, which is fine, but I think it would be a step too far to suggest that this is marriage", while Environment Secretary Owen Paterson, who is expected to vote against equal marriage today, has said that the government is "rightly committed to advancing equality for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender people and has already taken action to do so by allowing those religious premises that wish to carry out civil partnerships to do so".

But what none of these three will tell you is that they all voted against civil partnerships when Labour introduced them in 2004. MPs are, of course, free to change their minds and we should praise them when they do. But it's hard not to see their new-found support for civil partnerships as a cynical attempt to prevent the equalisation of marriage. Gay couples might already have a means of formalising their relationships but they wouldn't if Paterson, Leigh and Howarth had had their way in 2004. So, for the record, here are the 38 Conservative MPs who voted against civil partnerships, including two serving cabinet ministers (Paterson and Transport Secretary Patrick McLoughlin) and the two Labour MPs who did. Seventeen have since resigned or lost their seats.

Conservative MPs who voted against civil partnerships

David Amess (Southend West)

James Arbuthnot (North East Hampshire)

Paul Beresford (Mole Valley)

Julian Brazier (Canterbury)

Christopher Chope (Christchurch)

Patrick Cormack (South Staffordshire. Stood down in 2010)

Quentin Davis (Grantham and Stamford. Defected to Labour in 2007 and stood down in 2010)

Adrian Flook (Taunton. Stood down in 2010)

Mark Francois (Rayleigh and Wickford)

Roger Gale (North Thanet)

John Gummer (Suffolk Coastal. Stood down in 2010)

Nick Hawkins (Surrey Heath. Stood down in 2005)

John Hayes (Current energy minister and MP for South Holland the Deepings)

Mark Hoban (Current employment minister and MP for Fareham)

Gerald Howarth (Aldershot)

Greg Knight (East Yorkshire)

Edward Leigh (Gainsborough)

Peter Lilley (Hitchin and Harpenden)

Brian Mawhinney (North West Cambridgeshire. Stood down in 2005)

Anne McIntosh (Vale of York)

Patrick McLoughlin (Current Transport Secretary and MP for Derbyshire Dales)

Owen Paterson (Current Environment Secretary and MP for North Shropshire)

Andrew Robathan (Current armed forces minister and MP for South Leicestershire)

Laurence Robertson (Tewkesbury)

Andrew Rosindell (Romford)

Michael Spicer (West Worcestershire. Stood down in 2010)

Bob Spink (Castle Point. Defected to UKIP in 2008 and lost his seat in 2010)

Desmond Swayne (New Forest West)

John Taylor (Solihull. Lost his seat in 2005)

Michael Trend (Windsor. Stood down in 2005)

Andrew Turner (Isle of Wight)

Nigel Waterson (Eastbourne. Lost his seat in 2010)

Angela Watkinson (Upminster)

Ann Widdecombe (Maidstone and The Weald. Stood down in 2010)

John Wilkinson (Ruislip-Northwood. Stood down in 2005)

David Wilshire (Spelthorne. Stood down in 2010)

Ann Winterton (Congleton. Stood down in 2010)

Nicholas Winterton (Macclesfield. Stood down in 2010)

Labour MPs who voted against civil partnerships

Denzil Davies (Llanelli. Stood down in 2005)

Jim Dobbin (Heywood and Middleton)

Environment Secretary Owen Paterson, who opposes gay marriage, voted against civil partnerships in 2004. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Keep the Burkini, ban the beach

Beaches are dreadful places. Maybe it would just be easier to ban them.

To hell with political correctness, I'm just going to say it. I think women who wear burkinis to the beach are silly. I also, for that matter, think women who wear bikinis to the beach are silly. Not because of what they're wearing – women, quite obviously, should be able to wear whatever the hell they want without interference from eyebrow-furrowing douchecanoes and neighborhood bigots whose opinions are neither relevant nor requested. No, my problem is with the beach. 

Beaches are dreadful places. I question the judgement of anyone who chooses to go, of their own free will, to a strip of boiling sand that gets in all your squishy bits, just to lie down. I associate beaches with skin cancer and sunstroke and stickiness and sharks. As a neurotic, anxious goth who struggles with the entire concept of organised fun, even the idea of the beach distresses me. I won't go and you can't make me. Especially given that if I did go, whatever I chose to wear, some fragile man somewhere whose entire identity depends on controlling how the women around him behave would probably get outraged and frightened and try to ban me.

Men love to have opinions on what women should wear on their holidays. Nipples are not to be tolerated, and burkinis are now an invitation to Islamophobia, so I can only imagine how my grumpy summer goth robes would go down. The annual summer storm over women's beach attire has a xenophobic twist this year after burkinis – the swimsuit alternative for women who want to conform to a “modest” Islamic dress code – were banned on many beaches in France (although one specific one, in the town of Villeneuve-Loubet, has been overturned by a test ruling in the country’s highest court).

Not to be outdone, Nicholas Sarkozy has promised to institute nationwide legislation against the “provocative” garment if he's re-elected as president, jumping gleefully on the bandwagon brought to global attention by race riots in Corsica. Photos have emerged of Nice police officers apparently forcing a sunbathing Muslim woman to strip down and issuing her with a penalty slip. I can only imagine what that poor woman must have felt as the state swooped down on her swimsuit, but hey, Sarkozy says that public humiliation of Muslim women is a vital part of French values, and women's symbolic experience is always more important than our actual, lived experience. There are many words for this sort of bullying, but Liberty does not come into it, and nor does Equality. Fraternity, of course, is doing just fine.

Whatever women wear, it's always provocative to someone, and it's always our fault – particularly if we're also seen to be shamelessly enjoying ourselves without prior permission from the patriarchy and the state. If we wear too little, that's a provocation, and we deserve to be raped or assaulted. If we wear too much, that's a provocation, and we deserve racist abuse and police harassment. If we walk too tall, speak to loud or venture down the wrong street at night, whatever we're wearing, that's a provocation and we deserve whatever we get. The point of all this is control – the policing of women's bodies in public, sometimes figuratively, and sometimes literally. It's never about women's choices – it's about how women's choices make men feel, and men's feelings are routinely placed before women's freedom, even the simple freedom to wear things that make us feel comfortable as we queue up for overpriced ice cream. It's not about banning the Burkinis, or banning the bikini. It's about stopping women from occupying public space, curtailing our freedom of expression, and letting us know that whoever we are, we are always watched, and we can never win.

If you ask me, the simplest thing would just be to ban the beach. I consider people on the beach a personal provocation. Yes, I grew up in a seaside town, but some of the beach people come from far away, and they aren't like me, and therefore I fear them. The very sight of them, laying around all damp and happy, is an active identity threat to me as an angry goth, and that means it must be personal. As far as I'm concerned the beach is for smoking joints in the dark in winter, snogging under the pier and swigging cheap cider from the two-litre bottle you've hidden up your jumper. That's all the beach is good for. Ban it, I say. 

I do, however, accept – albeit grudgingly – that other people have different experiences. Some people actually like the seaside. And given that I am neither a screaming overgrown toddler with affectless political ambitions nor a brittle, bellowing xenophobe convinced that anything that makes me uncomfortable ought to be illegal, I have learned to tolerate beach people. I may never understand them. That's ok. The beach isn't for me. Not everything has to be for me. That's what it means to live in a community with other human beings. As performative Islamophobia and popular misogyny bake on the blasted sand-flats of public discourse, more and and more conservatives are failing to get that memo. I'd suggest they calm down with an ice lolly and a go on the Ferris wheel – but maybe it'd be easier just to ban them. 

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.