Backbench MPs don’t get enough praise for the hard work they do
Sir David Amess has rightly been held up as an example as a constituency MP – backbenchers are a colossal feature of a parliamentary democracy, writes Salma Shah
It is difficult to add anything new to the sentiments shared by many that describe so fervently the respect with which Sir David Amess was held. Nor can further horror be expressed at the manner of his death. It is a tragedy, for his family, for his community and for all of us who lost a servant who epitomises every quality we value in public life.
In nearly 40 years of service to his country he never faltered in his duties to his constituents, never showed dissatisfaction with his standing. His position has been rightly described as a vocation not a career, so this is not simply a lament for his loss; instead, it’s a celebration of the special political breed to which he belonged. The noble backbench MP.
Backbenchers are often overlooked as attention is always focused on decision-makers in the ministerial ranks but the real guts of politics belong in the backbenches. Although in practical terms the backbencher wields little real power, the course of history has been altered more than once by an effective backbench campaign.
Without the European Research Group (ERG), would Brexit have happened in the way that it did? The relentless pressure on Theresa May by this formidably well-organised group held an entire economic bloc hostage and essentially delivered a new PM to the country. Whatever your view, it is hardly the picture of bumbling backbenchers.
Even strong leaders fear backbenchers. Tony Blair was constantly being challenged by his own team, on everything from domestic policy to international intervention – not least by a future leader in the form of Jeremy Corbyn, who in turn himself faced the wrath of his own backbenches. He realised perhaps it’s so much more fun being the rebel rather than quelling the rebellion.
Backbenchers are permitted a precious prize in politics: the ability to have one's own personality. Unlike sanitised ministers – forever wary of doing or saying the wrong thing – those further back on the green benches can indulge in a little razzmatazz and sprinkle some drama into proceedings. It’s an absolute prerequisite for a backbencher fighting for airtime.
No two backbenchers are alike, another great result of the relative freedom granted to those lucky enough to be devoid of a ministerial portfolio. Perhaps you’re a serial rebel? Or long in the tooth? Maybe you’ve served in government and don’t mind giving the whips’ office a collective ulcer?
You have the Jim Shannons of the world, who are parliamentary beasts and will take every chance to speak to make a point – no matter how long the debate. Maybe you’re obsessed about a certain topic and enjoy your role on a select committee and exercise considerable authority by directly challenging those who govern? Like the formidable Meg Hillier. Perhaps you are the conscience of your party? Stephen McPartland, for example. A rebel with a cause. And who doesn’t remember Dennis Skinner and his appallingly bad jokes and interventions in the chamber? A vintage backbencher. Sometimes they even come in the form of Pauline Latham, who use their time and energy to bring forward important legislation, like getting forced marriage banned for under-18s? Hardly a non-job.
Backbenchers are a colossal feature of a parliamentary democracy. Without their dining clubs, their gossiping and their general tenacity, politics would be a poorer place. Many are the real deal, the superstars and heroes of Westminster.
Climbing the greasy pole isn’t a true marker of success. Wasting political capital trying to derive meaning from the status we achieve misses all the things that matter. What David Amess managed to do – live by his values and his duty – that’s really what matters and is a job worth doing.
Salma Shah was special adviser to Sajid Javid, from 2018 to 2019. She was also a special adviser at the Department for Digital, Culture, Media and Sport