It’s the thing every MP fears, but it is increasingly becoming an occupational hazard: the brick hurled at the office window, the rape and death threats that arrive in the post, angry voices abusing you, your staff or your family, both on and offline. In recent years, I’ve experienced all of these things, and I know I’m not alone. Public life is drowning in hate, and violence and harassment towards political representatives is increasingly being normalised. Unless we take responsibility for addressing this, the outcome will not simply be that the loudest voices and largest wallets win: democracy will lose.
Every MP has not just the shadow of the deaths of our beloved friends David Amess and Jo Cox looming in our thoughts, but also knowledge of the day-to-day violence our colleagues experience. I don’t need to agree with Tobias Ellwood or Mike Freer on policy to know that a line has been crossed when their private addresses and constituency offices have been targeted – and they are not alone. As campaign groups seek to be heard, they are taking ever more incendiary directions. Just Stop Oil stated to the Guardian that it would challenge MPs “at their homes”, and protests over Gaza have happened outside MPs’ houses, with protesters daubing constituency offices with red paint.
Politicians are used to people disagreeing with them – indeed, few would wish to live in a world where they didn’t. Listening to those you disagree with is often the best way to learn – or to confirm you’re on the right path. A culture that tries to stifle dissent and arouses such anger is not just bad for politicians – many of whom are walking away rather than face the ignominy of wearing protective clothing to go outdoors – it is also bad for the causes and campaigns that drove so many of us into public life, and on which we want to see progress. Draconian efforts by the government to shut protest down have rightly been challenged, and indeed many of us have defended those who do disagree with us, both in other political parties and in community movements.
What we are seeing now is not simply a livelier version of public life. You cannot have free speech if 50% of a conversation is spent living in fear that saying no will mean a risk of harm to either yourself or someone you love. Nor is it OK for protest to become about persecution because you may or may not agree with an issue. Climate protesters picketing MPs’ houses is no more acceptable than the threats I have received from anti-abortion campaigners. All would argue that their cause is so vital and important that such tactics are merited – but to allow these behaviours to become the norm for any is to enable it for all.
The ultimate irony is that this behaviour is driving the closure of the public sphere itself, with MPs being told they need to have security at any public meeting, no matter the subject, and not to meet constituents in person. Yet one of the best things about Britain’s parliamentary system is that we expect our politicians to be part of the communities they’re elected to serve. Now that the parliamentary security team requests the details of your daily travel plans – when you’ll be visiting your local supermarket, or the pub – it’s hard not to feel that something has gone very wrong. Indeed, my local council records me as a safeguarding risk to my own children because of the threats I face as an MP.
Understandably, there is a real fear of talking about this problem among politicians – especially women, people of colour and LGBT representatives, who are targeted the most. We’re told that to raise concerns is to show we can’t “take the heat” or we’re seeking to avoid accountability. Indeed, Westminster has not acted with grace, thought, empathy or inclusivity in recent years. MPs have been found to be abusive or corrupt. Wednesday night in the Commons showed we can lose sight of what matters. The subjects we deal with – economic insecurity, genocide and hunger, fundamental human rights – are messy, complicated and nuanced, and our discussions are too often stage managed, petty and dismissive.
But the answer isn’t to go low. It is to reinforce the value of robust and reasoned democracy. If we don’t, only those who enjoy conflict and fear will go into politics. It may make for entertaining viewing, but it will lead to terrible policymaking, setting back the progress we’ve made in achieving a consensus around important issues such as net zero. Finding someone to scream at may make you feel better, but it is not a healthy political culture. When shock tactics become commonplace, the quality of public debate suffers. We begin to lose the ability to have conversations with people we disagree with, to discuss contentious issues with constituents, and to learn to live alongside one another. And that, surely, is what politics is supposed to be about.
-
Do you have an opinion on the issues raised in this article? If you would like to submit a response of up to 300 words by email to be considered for publication in our letters section, please click here.
