Michael Martin, now a Lord, escapes expenses ordure

Sketch: Ex-Speaker leaves expenses horrors behind

Sketch: Ex-Speaker leaves expenses horrors behind

Michael Martin, robed in ermine, giving his supporters a friendly thumbs-up: it’s an image that will stick in the memory for some time. For most MPs, it’s an image that will stick in the throat.

By Alex Stevenson

The former Speaker of the Commons looked utterly delighted as he assumed his seat in parliament’s upper House. This very great honour was being bestowed on the first Speaker to be effectively ousted from office by sitting MPs in 300 years.

What forced them to take this historic step? Nothing but his handling of the expenses scandal, for which he said he was “profoundly sorry” at the time. At its height the expenses crisis plunged Westminster into a mood of profound misery. On returning 83 days after breaking up for the summer, little has changed.

MPs are stalking the corridors, barking rebukes at all and sundry. Journalists are tearing their hair out trying to get hold of them. The letters sent out by Sir Thomas Legg have sent anguished MPs scuttling to and from their offices, from which howls of despair are heard at regular intervals. The outlook in the Commons is rather bleak.

In the Lords, by contrast, all was sweetness and light in the moments before today’s session began. Beaming smiles from Labour peers filled the peers’ lobby. Waiting nervously in the wings – in the Moses Room to be exact – was the man himself. After a blissful summer away from the headlines Michael Martin was about to make his comeback. His red-faced smile was one of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. The thumbs-up was instinctive, triumphant, confident. Here, at least, was an island of happiness in this parliamentary sea of expenses misery.

The sitting began with the usual prayers, which appeared to drag on and on. They’ve got a lot to pray for, one fan of ‘Gorbals Mick’ muttered. After a few moments of muted excitement, the summer recess officially over, Black Rod strode slowly in to the upper chamber. Martin, accompanied by bosom pals George Foulkes and Charles Falconer, trooped in. His family looked down proudly as he was elevated to the Lords.

The Queen, it turned out, was keen to “advance, create and prefer” Martin from his previous commoner status. He was to be transformed into “Baron Martin of Springburn, of Port Dundas, in our city of Glasgow”. Martin ought to be careful with his peerage, the Queen had written. It was being entrusted “to have and to hold unto him by his life”. Martin looked extremely pleased at this. It appeared he was able to enjoy the “rights”, the “privileges” and the “eminences” of a baron.

Interpreting these three benefits in the Commons was, in its own way, how he ended up here in the first place. Acting in what he thought was the best interest of MPs, Martin had done his best to prevent the details of ‘flipping’ and other expenses outrages from coming to light. The consequences of his decisions were being played out at the other end of the Palace, where wriggling MPs agonised over how best to get out of the mess he had left them in.

What a shame they won’t be able to copy Martin’s exit strategy, which culminated today in his ennoblement. “So help me God,” he said expansively to the heavens, his strange high-pitched tone echoing around the Lords chamber as he wrapped up his vow of fealty. Lord Martin doesn’t need help. His thumbs-up proved he’s doing just fine.

You couldn’t say the same about those he’s left behind. Most MPs won’t even be aware he’s getting kicked upstairs today. You’ll be able to tell which ones have by listening carefully as you approach them. What’s that low grinding sound? Ah yes, of course – the gnashing of teeth.