Where is the British constitution?
With no single document, constitutional nerds need to go searching for it.
In the United States, if a citizen wants to locate their country’s constitution, it is a fairly straightforward process - they can take a trip to the National Archives in Washington DC and view the original document in the portentously-named “Rotunda for the Charters of Freedom”, or if they want a more up-to-date and easily available copy, they can look at the version on the Constitution Annotated website, published by the Library of Congress (that site, incidentally, is a constitutional nerd’s dream - bringing together not just the amended text of the document, but explanatory notes and authoritative interpretations of its provisions based on Supreme Court judgements. They even have a podcast!)
The United Kingdom, by contrast, has no single document we can point to as “The Constitution”. This leads some people to assert that the country has no real constitution at all, and is simply muddling through on the basis of precedent and tradition. This is only half true: we Brits are indeed often muddling through on such a basis, but we nevertheless do have a real constitution. And whilst it is indeed characterised by precedents and traditions as much as by codified laws, that accumulated understanding, shaped by centuries of civil wars, power struggles and political wrangling, is arguably a more “real” constitution than any piece of paper on its own. What matters for a settled constitution, after all, is the shared consent of the people and their political leaders to accept the rules of the game, not that those rules are neatly written down in one place.
The debate about whether the UK should formally codify its constitution is one that flickers into life from time to time, usually driven by those who wish to see changes to what it would say, or to introduce tougher safeguards against those who seek to bend the rules. But it remains the case that at present there is no single convenient text setting out the undisputed official version of the UK’s constitution.
It therefore falls to constitutional writers, lawyers, academics and other assorted nerds (amongst whom I presume to count myself) to study, interpret and keep track of the bits of the constitutional architecture in which they are most interested. Few brave souls attempt the herculean task of mapping the entire constitutional landscape, but when they do, their work can take on a degree of significance that ironically becomes quasi-constitutional in its own right. Hence the 19th-century scribblings of the journalist Walter Bagehot, in his book The English Constitution, have come to be treated in some quarters as though they are themselves constitutionally binding. Particularly pervasive is his dictum that the sovereign in a constitutional monarchy has “three rights - the right to be consulted, the right to encourage, the right to warn.”
This sentence, written during the reign of Queen Victoria, has shaped not only how generations of academics and students of the British political system have viewed the proper role of the monarch, but also how subsequent Kings and Queens have approached their duties, and how Prime Ministers have understood the role of the Crown. The fact that it isn’t necessarily true (and certainly wasn’t at the time it was written) is a detail that often gets overlooked. Other constitutional scholars since, such as A.V. Dicey and Ivor Jennings, have achieved at least some measure of the same influence for their weighty texts on the constitution, but as with Bagehot, one sometimes wonders whether it was their ability to pen a memorable turn of phrase (“the right to make or unmake any law”) that made their descriptions so persuasive and pervasive in the years since.
These scholarly texts are essential reading to help develop an understanding of the complex and subtle nuances of the British constitution, but they are not without their flaws. Inevitably they at times reflect the views, prejudices and idealistic projections of the individual authors - and they have also become rather out of date as constitutional practice has continued to evolve. Trying to navigate your way around the British political system with a copy of Bagehot is rather like Michael Portillo travelling around the rail network with his trusty Victorian copy of Bradshaw’s Guide - an interesting whimsical adventure, but full of references to long-defunct branch lines and unrecognisable town centres.
Specific parts of the constitution benefit from up-to-date and officially-sanctioned handbooks and resources: the entire statute law of the land can be found on the excellent legislation.gov.uk website, which is constantly updated as laws and statutory instruments are passed by Parliament. The procedure of the House of Commons, with all its conventions and evolving precedents and Speaker’s rulings, is painstakingly recorded in successive new editions of Erskine May (originally an unofficial Victorian text, but now quasi-official and published online after the success of the splendidly nerdy #FreeErskineMay campaign).
For the rules and expectations on ministers and the operation of Cabinet Government, we can look at the Ministerial Code, published by each Prime Minister towards the start of their term of office and occasionally revised by them thereafter. There was also the splendid and more comprehensive Cabinet Manual, which was published by the Cabinet Office in 2011, but has shockingly never been revised since (though we geeks live in hope).
Aside from these, however, there are few authoritative resources that map out the entire landscape of the British constitution as it stands in 2024. Which is why last week’s low-key publication of a new briefing paper by the House of Commons Library entitled “The United Kingdom constitution – a mapping exercise” was a delightful surprise. I say “briefing paper”, because that is what the Library calls all its research publications, but that rather downplays this 249-page magnum opus. Its author, David Torrance, is an incurable member of the constitutional geek community, and he has done the rest of us a great service in bringing together in one document all the significant (and many of the insignificant) sources of the UK constitution, complete with proper footnotes, links to other source material, and up-to-date examples and precedents. It is a significant and impressive achievement, and best of all, it will be regularly updated
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Unlike the previously lauded works of constitutional scholarship, it does not seek to examine constitutional questions and debates in depth or to provide its own interpretation. Rather, in Torrance’s words, it is “intended as a navigational aid to what can often appear an endless and impenetrable mass of constitutional information.” As a publication of the House of Commons, it carries a degree of authority, and whilst its primary audience is MPs and their staff, it deserves a much wider readership. I highly recommend it.
Kings and Queens
I’ve been kept busy this week with various writing projects and meetings around town, but found time to indulge myself with some entertaining events too. One of these was the arrival of the Amir of Qatar for his state visit as guest of HM The King on Tuesday. It was reportedly the last to be hosted at Buckingham Palace for some years, as the refurbishment of “Monarchy HQ" continues, and future such visits will instead take place at Windsor.
It was therefore the last chance for a while to see an arrival ceremony for a Head of State take place on Horse Guards Parade, followed by a carriage procession down The Mall to Buckingham Palace. Fortunately, I had a meeting that morning nearby in Pall Mall, and was able to nip along to wave at His Majesty and the Amir, and to the Prince and Princess of Wales, who followed in the second carriage. Unlike the big state occasions like Trooping the Colour, the timings of such visits are not widely publicised, and the crowds are more modest, allowing a much better view without staking a place hours before. As ever, I wished I had a better camera for some close-ups, but my phone seemed to do a decent enough job at capturing the spectacle.
I have also been to a few book events over the last week or so. An enjoyable one was a talk at the Author’s Club by the ballet dancer and actor Wayne Sleep, about his new memoir “Just Different”. He recounted some wonderful stories from the book - from dancing with Rudolf Nureyev and Margot Fonteyn to his legendary surprise routine with Diana, Princess of Wales. He has certainly lived a life - partying with Freddie Mercury and Elton John, and finding time to set two Guinness World Records along the way. He also appeared on the second series of I’m a Celebrity… back in 2003, and given the latest series is currently on our screens I couldn’t resist asked if he missed the jungle. His answer was a very firm “No!”.
Also promoting a new memoir this week in London was former German Chancellor Angela Merkel, and I went along to hear her being interviewed about it by the BBC’s Europe Editor Katya Adler at the Royal Festival Hall. The venue was packed, and I was way up in the balcony, but even at such a distance it was fascinating to see such a giant of recent European politics, whose 16-year term as Chancellor saw her share the world stage with five British Prime Ministers from Tony Blair to Boris Johnson; and four US Presidents, from George W. Bush to Joe Biden.
The book is called Freedom, and she began by reading the prologue, in which she writes powerfully about her experience growing up in the communist dictatorship of East Germany. For the Brits in the audience whose GCSE German didn’t quite cut it, the organisers helpfully provided an earpiece through which we could hear a simultaneous translation of the “Queen of Europe” (one of the nicknames Frau Merkel was once given). If you want a flavour of the discussion, Katya Adler had previously interviewed Merkel for a BBC documentary last month, currently available on iPlayer in the UK.
Books for Christmas?!
The countdown to Christmas is well underway, and I wouldn’t be doing my duty as a struggling author if I didn’t use the season to try to flog more books, assuring you that they are definitely the perfect Christmas present.
If the special person in your life has recently been elected as an opposition MP, or if you’re perhaps a US Democrat or find yourself on the losing side of an election anywhere else, then How to be in Opposition might be the very thing they need…
Otherwise, if you enjoy bite-size historical nuggets with a dash of humour, a James Bond-style car chase, assassinations, scandals and other assorted historical delights and pub-quiz trivia, then do consider The Not Quite Prime Ministers, my sketches of the leaders of the opposition from Charles James Fox to Jeremy Corbyn who failed to make it to Number 10 Downing Street:
And that’s all for now…
Which brings us to the end of another newsletter - if you’ve enjoyed it, do please recommend it to others, and let me know if you have any suggestions for things you think I should include in future weeks. You can drop me an email via the contact page on my website at: nigelfletcher.org
Very best wishes, and happy Christmas shopping…
