Our obsession with political ‘rebellions’ is unhealthy for British democracy

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Political rebellion is an integral part of any healthy democracy. Polite disagreement and compromise are the basis of our political system, and members of parliament should feel free to express their views, even when they conflict with their own party. In the UK parliament, however, rebelling against one’s political party is both discouraged and, occasionally, sensationalised.

Since the July election, Sir Keir Starmer’s government has faced two ‘rebellions’ in the House of Commons. The first, a vote on scrapping the two-child benefit cap, saw the temporary suspension of seven Labour MPs who voted against the government. The second, over plans to means test winter fuel payments, saw an additional MP vote against the government, and a further twelve MPs abstain without permission.

As a member of the UK parliament, voting against your affiliated party is not an infringement of the parliamentary code of conduct — the rules which MPs must abide by. It is, however, a violation of parliamentary social norms.

Membership of a parliamentary party carries the expectation that members will vote in accordance with the desires of the party leadership. Parliamentary whips, MPs appointed by the party leadership, encourage MPs in their parliamentary party to vote in a particular way, otherwise known as the ‘party line’. Where they do not, they often face sanctions, such as being overlooked for cabinet or shadow cabinet positions or, at the very worst, expulsion from the parliamentary party — this is what happened in the case of the Labour MPs who voted against the government on the two-child benefit cap.

Whips classify parliamentary votes into three categories, the names of which are thought to originate from physical lines historically drawn by party whips under the title of each vote on the parliamentary schedule. Single-line whips are an indication of how the party might vote — attendance is not expected. Two-line whips are more common. They suggest how MPs should vote and attendance is compulsory unless permission is granted by the whip. Finally, three-line whips are serious instructions to attend and vote in a particular way. To be excused from two and three-line whips is almost impossible; even when constituency issues or prior engagements conflict with voting, exemption is difficult to obtain.

The consequences of missing whipped votes, or of voting against the party line, are obviously damaging for the career of an individual MP. But, when obsessed over, breaking from the party line also has serious consequences for the integrity of the government, and our democracy more generally.

When in session, both houses in the UK parliament vote upon countless bills, amendments and motions each week. The majority of these are rather mundane, technical votes about issues which neither captivate the hearts and minds of the British public, nor the journalists whose job it is to report on them. As such, the majority of votes go unnoticed, alongside any rebellions which might occur.

On the rare occasion that rebellions are reported on, however, they are unnecessarily sensationalised in a sense which is rarely appropriate in the political arena. The recent rebellions faced by Starmer’s government are a prime example. With a working majority of 167, the rebellion of a few MPs is hardly likely to result in a defeat. Yet reporting of these events had a dooms-day approach as journalists critiqued the rocky start of Starmer’s government.

The so-called rebels received wide-spread media attention and dominated newspaper headlines. This seems out of proportion for the scale of what happened, and was comparable, if not more intense, than when Rishi Sunak’s government was *defeated *over an amendment to the Victims and Prisoners bill.

It goes without saying that an entire government defeat has far greater consequences than a small-scale rebellion against the party-line: government defeats mean that major legislation cannot pass through parliament, sometimes resulting in votes of no confidence and the dissolution of parliament. Meanwhile, rebellions can only cause embarrassment for the whips and party leaders or, if severe in number, cast doubt on the discipline of the parliamentary party. Even still, an ill-disciplined parliamentary party is only problematic if it leads to government defeats or a lack of scrutiny from the opposition, neither of which happened over the two-child benefit cap or the winter fuel vote.

Given recent political turbulence — the UK has been served by five prime ministers in as many years — the dramatisation of minor rebellions can only fuel further instability. Such intense media attention casts doubt over the government’s command of its majority and, consequently, questions the stability of our democracy.

So while political heavy-weights might long for the chaos and intensity of the Brexit years when Prime Ministers Theresa May and Boris Johnson lost several attempts to pass legislation through parliament, journalists should be wise not to over-dramatise the mundanity of a select few MPs voting against the government’s party line.

This is not to say that rebellions should not be reported on — reporting on parliament’s affairs is vital for transparency in both government and parliament, boosting parliament’s output legitimacy. Instead, such rebellions should not be sensationalised. The media should not over-play the significance of these rebellions which mean little in the grand scheme of parliament’s deliberations, nor should they cast doubt about the capacity of the government to command its parliamentary majority.

MPs should feel free to speak their minds, to scrutinise legislation to the best of their abilities, and to openly criticise the government and their political party if they see fit. Whilst the social convention of Parliament’s whips might set a party-line on which to vote, the occasional rebellion of MPs is both natural and healthy for the state of our democracy. To obsess and sensationalise over such rebellions, however, is quite the opposite.

Conor Walsh is a masters student at the University of Oxford where he reads Politics (Political Theory). Conor is interested in global inequality and humanitarian crises, with particular interest in the Calais migrant crisis, alongside constitutional matters concerning the United Kingdom and it’s parliament.