Political defections, commonly known in Westminster parlance as ‘Crossing the Floor’, have been a phenomenon in Parliament since at least the 17^th century. This has either happened en masse, as part of major schisms within pre-existing parties (such as the establishment of the Liberal Unionists in the late 19^th century, or the Social Democratic Party in 1981 and The Independent Group/Change UK in 2019), or on an individual level, motivated either by political issues of national significance, or as a result of local contexts. In the History of Parliament’s Oral History archive, multiple former MPs have recounted their decision to ‘cross the floor’ and change party affiliation. These were frequently extremely difficult decisions, often at huge personal cost, in some instances causing the end of long-term friendships or associations. They also frequently reflected major changes in British politics happening well beyond their immediate experiences.

Some MPs took the difficult decision to leave their party because of local issues, typically involving conflicts with their constituency parties. In 1973, Dick Taverne, the moderate Labour MP for Lincoln (1962-74), resigned the whip after his local party deselected him due to his pro-European views, particularly for voting in favour of the UK joining the European Economic Community (EEC).

Taverne would subsequently resign his seat to trigger a by-election, which he won under the ‘Democratic Labour’ label. It was the first time a candidate other than the Conservatives, Labour or the Liberals had won an English by-election in the post-war era. While Taverne’s parliamentary career after Labour was brief (he was defeated at the October 1974 general election by Labour’s Margaret Beckett), it anticipated later political events, most notably the defection of Labour’s ‘Gang of Four’ and the establishment of the Social Democratic Party (SDP) in 1981. Taverne himself would join the SDP, and later stand again for Parliament (in Dulwich, unsuccessfully) in 1983, before becoming a Liberal Democrat peer in 1996. In 1977, Reg Prentice (Newham North-East, formerly East Ham North, 1957-79; Daventry, 1979-87) left the Labour Party due to similar local conflicts, but took the far more controversial decision of defecting directly to the Conservatives. He would later change constituencies and serve as a minister in Margaret Thatcher’s first government. Once again, Prentice’s defection partly showcased the various political divisions emerging within the Labour Party at the end of the 1970s.

Other defections were directly motivated by national political issues. In 1976, Scottish MPs Jim Sillars (South Ayrshire, 1970-79; Glasgow Govan, 1988-92) and John Robertson (Paisley, 1961-79) both resigned from Labour to set-up the ‘Scottish Labour Party’ (SLP). They were motivated by the issue of devolution, and frustration with the failure of the incumbent Labour government to establish a devolved Scottish Assembly with substantial economic powers.

While Sillars never regretted his decision to leave Labour and set up the SLP, he did admit that it was a ‘rush to the head’ and not fully thought through.  

Nevertheless, though the SLP ultimately enjoyed little electoral success, and was dissolved by 1981, Sillars and Robertson’s defections reflected the growing influence of Scottish nationalism in British politics, and anticipated the left-wing, pro-European form it would take in the following decades. In 1988 Sillars was returned to Parliament following a by-election in Glasgow Govan, this time standing as a candidate for the Scottish National Party (SNP), on a platform designed to outflank Labour from the left

Like other defections, Nicholson’s departure from the Conservatives reflected wider developments, but was also of notable personal significance, being the member of a very prominent Conservative family.  

Our interviews with both Sillars and Nicholson emphasise the emotional cost of leaving their parties. Party membership is more than a collection of people with shared political outlook; very deep relationships are made and it can be a key part of a politician’s identity.  For Sillars, leaving the Labour Party was ‘like a Catholic leaving the church […] it’s a tremendous trauma, personal trauma’ and the pressure really affected his health (he developed ulcers), his family and marriage. Nicholson described being ‘extremely angry’ with the Conservatives before she left. In part her defection was her response to feeling ‘bullied’ by the whips and a determination to resist that behaviour. Yet it was a decision she reached ‘very sadly, because I am intrinsically a Conservative.’

One of the most unusual political defections recounted in our project was that of Andrew Hunter. Having sat as the Conservative MP for Basingstoke since 1983, Hunter resigned the party whip in 2002, before joining the Northern Irish Democratic Unionist Party (DUP) in 2004. This was the first time an MP for a mainland British constituency represented a Northern Irish party since T.P. O’Connor, the Irish Nationalist MP for Liverpool Scotland (1885-1929). Hunter’s decision was motivated by conflicts with the Tory leader Iain Duncan Smith, particularly over the party’s controversial links to the right-wing Monday Club (which Hunter supported), disillusionment with the Westminster system, and a desire to pursue a political career in Northern Ireland, owing to his long-standing connections to the DUP and wider unionist community, particularly the Orange Order.  

Unsurprisingly, many of these defections sparked outrage among their former colleagues. Sillars would describe the ‘vicious’ reaction he received, while others would describe being accused of opportunism, cowardice or treason. In some instances, the defectors’ new political allies were not always entirely welcoming either. Interestingly, in many cases these defections were explained as not due to any significant change in the views of the MPs themselves, but out of discontent with their former party’s trajectory. Versions of the phrase ‘I didn’t leave the party, the party left me’ was commonly used by Labour defectors to the SDP in the 1980s, as well as by Emma Nicholson in 1995. Indeed, while some of these defections proved permanent, such as in the case of the SDP or Sillars, others were ultimately temporary. In 2016, Emma Nicholson rejoined the Conservative Party ‘with tremendous pleasure’ (BBC News, 10 September 2016), while more recently, Luciana Berger, who left Labour to form The Independent Group/Change UK in 2019 and later joined the Lib Dems, now sits in the Lords as a Labour peer. Both instances suggest that while defections have often been dramatic and bitterly divisive, reconciliation has also occasionally been possible.

Ultimately, stories from our Oral History Project reveal that political defections are often highly personal decisions and experiences, but can also reflect wider political developments, and even play a role in shaping subsequent events.

A.S. & E.P.

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Further Reading

Andy Beckett, ‘Emma Nicholson: Not her sort of party’, Independent, 31 December 1995.

Tom Chidwick, ‘“Return Taverne”: 50 years on from the Lincoln by-election’, Mile End Institute blog, 1 March 2023

Ivor Crewe and Anthony King, SDP: The Birth, Life and Death of the Social Democratic Party (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995).

Geoff Horn, Crossing the Floor: Reg Prentice and the Crisis of British Social Democracy (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2016).

Ben Jackson, ‘From British Labourism to Scottish Nationalism: Jim Sillars’ Journey’, Scottish Affairs 31:2 (2022), pp.233-239.

Rebecca McKee and Jack Pannell, ‘MPs who change party allegiance’, Institute for Government blog, 12 March 2024.

Emma Peplow and Priscilla Pivatto, The Political Lives of Postwar MPs (London: Bloomsbury, 2020).

Since 2011, the project has interviewed over 250 former members of parliament, creating, in collaboration with the British Library, a unique sound archive of British politics since 1945.

To fill some regional gaps in our collection, the project is specifically looking for volunteer interviewers based in, or able to travel to, either Wales or the North East of England.

Our project could not exist without our fantastic volunteers who, armed with the research we provide, head out to homes and offices of ex-MPs to discuss their childhood memories, inspiration to enter politics, first experiences of Westminster, significant political events and much more.

All volunteers will be provided with expert training in oral history methodology, with our next training session planned for 2-3 June, as well as frequent feedback and advice from the project’s manager, Alfie Steer, and the head of the History of Parliament’s Contemporary History section Dr Emma Peplow. Ideally those who volunteer will undertake at least two interviews a year. Experience in oral history techniques and an interest in modern British politics would be really useful, but are not essential.

Prospective volunteers should get in touch with our project manager, Alfie Steer at asteer@histparl.ac.uk.

A.S.

Alongside the organisers, a distinguished panel of historians and political scientists, Professors Sarah Childs, (University of Edinburgh), Helen McCarthy (University of Cambridge), and Rainbow Murray (Queen Mary University of London) gathered at Portcullis House to reflect on the changes in the lives of women parliamentarians entering parliament in or just before 1997. Drawing on a range of interviews from the History of Parliament’s Oral History Project, the panel questioned whether the increase in women MPs has altered the culture and working practices of parliament. They also reflected on whether the presence of more women at Westminster has made a difference to how women talk about their lives as parliamentarians.

Dr Grace Heaton looks back on the event and what the new cohort of female MPs might be able to take from their predecessors…

In 2018, the Women and Equalities Committee described parliament as ‘a manly place’. In the 100 years since the first woman, Nancy Astor, took her seat in parliament in 1919, women have never been equally represented.

In the 1979 General Election, in which Margaret Thatcher became Britain’s first female Prime Minister, only 3 per cent of all MPs were women. Prophesising the impact more women MPs would have on parliament, in 1987 Labour MP Clare Short argued in her Briefing for MPs that: ‘Increasing women’s representation in parliament is essential if we are to build a House of Commons which more truly represents the whole population. As more women come into the Commons, the culture will change, the agenda of politics will broaden, and the institution itself will be transformed’. That same year, 41 women were elected to parliament and Diane Abbott became the first Black woman to serve as an MP.

During the 1990s, the Labour Party sought to increase the number of female MPs via the controversial practice of All Women Shortlists for candidates chosen to fight the 1997 General Election. Despite a legal challenge temporarily halting the measure (during which two Labour activists accused their party of sexual discrimination), the increase in women candidates combined with a Labour landslide led to a breakthrough. 120 women MPs (18 per cent of all MPs) were elected in 1997 and began to seriously challenge Westminster’s culture. This number has slowly increased in recent years to 22 per cent in the 2010 General Election, and 34 per cent in 2019. In the 2024 General Election a record-breaking number of female MPs were elected, now sitting at just over 40 percent.

As the History of Parliament Trust’s rich Oral History Project demonstrates, experiences of parliamentary life varied hugely. Yet, when discussing their lives, interviewees touched on remarkably similar themes: of what drew them into politics and how they practically entered politics; how they felt about the Chamber and how they experienced the social life and culture of parliament; and how they combined politics with their lives outside parliament. Led by these testimonies, the panel’s discussion was split into three sections: Becoming an MP; Experiences of Parliament; and Balancing Politics and Family Life.

Becoming an MP:

One of the benefits of the life-story approach used by volunteers working with the History of Parliament Trust is that rich insights are gained into the family backgrounds and political heritages of MPs. These formative years often shaped their decisions to enter politics in later life. As Helen McCarthy noted, family members (and often specific relatives) inspired, taught, and encouraged political engagement.

Ann Cryer, a Labour MP for Keighley 1997-2010, for example, recalled her grandmother’s involvement in the women’s suffrage movement; Baroness Angie Bray, a Conservative MP for Acton and Ealing 2010-2015, reflected on being taught how to debate by her father; and Susan Elan Jones, a Labour MP for Clwyd South recalled taking part in her uncle’s election campaign for the Conway constituency in 1979:

From here, the panel reflected on the controversial practice of All Women Shortlists. As you heard above, All Women Shortlists galvanised contradictory responses.

Susan Elan Jones explained that:

‘Until the time of the All Women Shortlists in Wales, Wales had only ever had four female MPs. It was pathetic. […] It took the women-only shortlists to shake things up a bit in Wales’.

In contrast, Ann Taylor, a Labour MP between 1974-79 and 1987-2005, was less convinced by the impact of All Women Shortlists and others like Sylvia Heal, Labour 1990-92; 1997-2010, changed their opinion on All Women Shortlists over time.

Listening to these testimonies, Sarah Childs encouraged a reframing of the way that All Women Shortlists are conceptualised. She noted that whether you like All Women Shortlists or not is irrelevant, the worldwide evidence suggests that quotas systems provide an effective method for increasing female representation and participation in public life.

Experiences of Parliament:

While a striking level of continuity can be deciphered in the importance of familial networks galvanising political interest, experiences of parliament (and particularly the Chamber) varied significantly.

Jackie Ballard, Liberal Democrat MP 1997-2001, highlighted the sexist comments women MPs endured during her time in parliament; other members, like Baroness Angie Bray and Susan Elan Jones did not mention instances of overt misogyny, but rather focused on the gravity and experience of speaking in the Chamber:

Commenting on these clips, McCarthy drew attention to the emotions which underscored these testimonies. Noting that Jackie Ballard’s use of words like ‘loath’ and ‘detest’, and her visceral ‘ugh’ at the end of the clip, provide immersive insights into the experience of being an MP and how difficult it can be. Drawing on her own research, Rainbow Murray made a fascinating comparison to the spatial dynamics of the French parliament. Murray noted that the physical space of the French parliament was overtly unwelcoming to women – reminding the audience that for a long time the only artwork representing women were the erotic images which adorned the walls of the parliamentary bars.

Family and Political Life:

During the final segment, the panel considered the interactions between political and family life. Alongside balancing the demands of a constituency with commitments in Westminster, many female parliamentarians also had to navigate being the primary care giver in their families.

Olga Maitland, Conservative 1992-1997, recalled campaigning for the 1983 election and balancing her familial duties; Sylvia Heal acknowledged the sense of guilt that was also very prominent among female parliamentarians; Ann Taylor, Labour 1974-83; 1987-2005, was adamant that parliament should be a place where women, from whatever familial situation, can easily work:

Reflecting on these testimonies, Rainbow Murray highlighted three coping mechanisms women frequently adopt whilst trying to navigate parliamentary and home life: 1. You don’t get pregnant. 2. You wait until your children have grown to stand as a parliamentary candidate. 3. You delegate childcare – often to other women e.g. your own mother. Murray therefore urged that to address gender inequality in parliament, it is vital to address gender inequality in the home.

As the dust settles on a new parliament, with a record-breaking number of female Members, questions posed by Sarah Childs during the ‘A Manly Place?’ event provide us with much food for thought: Are MPs making a difference? Is the institution changing or are MPs changing? Do we want to change the institution based on what MPs want? When change does happen, which changes stick? And has parliament, in the aftermath of the referendum on Brexit and the pandemic, experienced a ‘remasculinisation’?

After a stimulating discussion, the event closed with the words of Jackie Ballard:

‘Less than a thousand woman have been Members of Parliament. It is an incredibly privileged thing to have done, isn’t it? As a woman, you’ve made, you know, some impact and some mark, and you hope that over generations people are not still sitting here saying how few mothers have been Members of Parliament or something because it’s more commonplace.[…] Being a woman who comes to prominence is important, and I wasn’t a woman from a privileged background, I wasn’t a woman who had a nanny, or a husband even. So, I think it’s important’.

G.H.

Further Reading

Karen Celis and Sarah Childs, Feminist Democratic Representation (Oxford, 2020).

Helen McCarthy, Double Lives: A History of Working Motherhood (London, 2020).

Rainbow Murray, ‘Linear Trajectories or Vicious Circles? The Causes and Consquences of Gendered Career Paths in the National Assembly’, Modern and Contemporary France, 18:4 (2010), pp. 445-459.

Emma Peplow and Priscila Privatto, The Political Lives of Postwar MPs: An Oral History of Parliament (London, 2020), Chapter 8.

When the HIV/AIDs epidemic arrived in the UK in the early 1980s it was a frightening, confusing time. Little was known about this new disease, other than it appeared to be deadly to all who caught it. As in other countries it spread quickly in certain communities in the UK: haemophiliacs, who relied on blood products, drug users and gay men. The last two groups were already marginalised. As recounted heartbreakingly in the BBC/British Library documentary series based on oral history testimony, Aids: The Unheard Tapes, those living with the disease, and those who loved them, faced discrimination and fear from wider society.

The lack of knowledge about how AIDs spread and how to treat the disease, alongside this marginalisation, made tackling the subject politically a difficult issue. Although homosexuality had been decriminalised in the UK in the 1960s, discrimination against the gay community was widespread and, at times, political debate was homophobic. The MPs we have spoken to as part of our Oral History Project who spoke out about AIDs in Parliament believed other MPs would stay quiet because they could find the whole debate ‘distasteful’, in the words of Labour’s Gavin Strang. This of course made introducing legislation to record and prevent the spread of HIV, as well as support those living with the disease, all the harder.

Some MPs though were determined to address this crucial public health issue. Chris Butler, for example, remembers speaking about HIV in Parliament at a time when its spread felt ‘unstoppable’. Edwina Currie became junior health minister in 1986, partly, in her words, to help front then Health Secretary Norman Fowler’s public campaign on HIV.

The ‘Don’t Die of Ignorance’ government campaign, and Currie’s inappropriate public comments about AIDS, have been criticised then and after as only encouraging the stigma of those suffering with the disease. The image of a tombstone and the apocalyptic tone of the TV advert in particular were seen by many as ‘demonising’ them as the victims of the disease. However, the campaign has also been lauded for sharing better information, its frank language, and in particular for the attempt to reach the entire country. Fowler remembered in a Guardian interview that Margaret Thatcher had wanted a campaign more targeted to specific communities, and with less direct language. This battle, as shown from the archives, was won by Fowler and the Health Department. The advert and information leaflet reached most of the country, made it clear that anyone could catch HIV, and promoted safe sex. Fowler later remembered that one of his main motivations was to prevent attacks on the gay community, arguing that better information about HIV would help undermine discrimination. He has since continued to be involved in campaigning for both the LGBTQ+ community and for those suffering with HIV.

Others out of government also worked hard within parliament to do what they could to stem the epidemic. For example, Gavin Strang introduced a Private Members’ Bill in 1987, the AIDS (Control) Act, which required reporting on numbers of cases across the country. Neil Gerrard joined, and later chaired, the All Party Parliamentary Group on HIV/AIDs because he had friends diagnosed with the disease and others who worked with AIDs patients. He later sat on an Inter-Parliamentary Union working group advising parliaments across the world on HIV policy.

Of course there were others in Parliament deeply affected by the illness. Robert, now Lord, Hayward, was not publicly out at the time but remembered how ‘frightening’ it felt on the gay scene, how ‘awful’ it was to lose good friends to this disease. Chris, now Lord, Smith – the first MP to choose to come out – was diagnosed with HIV in 1988. He chose to keep this information secret at the time. Smith was at first treated with the more experimental AZT, which he believes may have given him enough ‘breathing space’ to be able to receive better therapy later on.

Here he describes how he reacted to his diagnosis:

Lord Smith describes his ‘determination to fit everything in come what may’ kept up his motivation to continue sitting on Labour’s front bench: ‘If I’m not here in 5 years’ time I want to make the most of what I’ve got.’ Even for a MP though, the discrimination around HIV remained. Lord Smith decided much later to make his diagnosis public and to talk about his experiences. He has since featured in campaigns demonstrating that a HIV diagnosis no longer means a death sentence.

EP

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Mo Mowlam became Secretary of State for Northern Ireland at a crucial time for the peace process. Taking up the role under Tony Blair, the New Labour government was able to build on and add impetus to a peace process already well underway. It was still one full of difficulties, distrust, and deeply-felt divisions. Mowlam, however, was a politician of a different mould. Sadly she passed away before our oral history project was established, but that hasn’t prevented her name ringing through our archive. Her fellow MPs were full of praise for her: ‘really an incredible woman’ (Sylvia Heal, Labour), or ‘like a breath of fresh air’ (Alice Mahon, Labour). All who spoke of her remembered her as a politician of great talent and a true and trusted friend.

Mowlam was born in 1949 in Watford, moving to Coventry as a teenager. Despite a sometimes difficult family life – her father was an alcoholic – she thrived at school, becoming head girl and going on to Durham University. She was active in student politics and joined the Labour party, and later gained a PhD from the University of Iowa. After some time in the US she returned to the UK, working as an academic and in adult education.

One of the first memories of Mowlam in our archive is from the 1980s, from her good friend and later Labour’s Chief Whip Hilary Armstrong. Both were active in Labour in the North East and looking for a parliamentary seat. This was not an easy proposition. Armstrong described how the regional Labour party at the time had decided that women ‘weren’t interested’ in becoming MPs: ‘Joyce Quinn, Mo Mowlam and I said we’re not going to let them get away with that.’ As the 1987 election was announced Armstrong had been selected to fight her seat in North West Durham, but Mowlam still had not found anywhere:

Armstrong and Mowlam shared a flat when in London, and also an office in parliament (the whip ‘thought he had to give us one together because we were women’). Mowlam soon got a reputation for sound political advice and generous friendship. Fellow Labour MP Bridget Prentice remembered Mowlam taking time to visit her in hospital after she had a hysterectomy. Syliva Heal remembered discussing her nomination as Deputy Speaker with Mowlam in the 1990s. Unsure of whether to give up her role as a PPS to accept the nomination, ‘Mo said ,‘Yes but Sylvia, just imagine, as a Deputy Speaker, if you ask to see a minister, do you think they’ll say no? And I thought ‘bless you, Mo.’’ Her mind was made up.

At the same time Mowlam was building her career in the Labour party. A supporter of Blair’s leadership campaign, he made Mowlam Shadow Secretary of State for Northern Ireland. At the time John Major’s government had been making slow but significant progress in the peace process. The 1993 Joint Declaration by the Irish and UK governments had led to an Irish Republican Army (IRA) ceasefire in 1994 and cross-party talks. Yet progress stalled, and the IRA bombing of Canary Wharf in 1996 put an end to negotiations, as well as damaging trust.

Mowlam and took her brief incredibly seriously, as Tony Worthington, one of her team, remembered:

This groundwork was part of Mowlam’s hands-on approach. The moment she was appointed Secretary of State in 1997 she famously jumped on a plane to Belfast to spend time in a marketplace. Her plain speaking and approachability was the feature of her tenure. She was determined to understand the province and tried to reach out to as many communities as possible, including, for example, the women’s movement. Her friend Sylvia Heal was asked to visit community groups and report back, and her PPS, Helen Jackson, was given the specific role of liaising with these community groups:

Enlisting her friends and staff in meetings like this allowed Mowlam to reach out to even more sections of the community in Northern Ireland, including groups it might be controversial for her to meet in person. Her approach led her to make some controversial, but crucial, interventions – such as her visit to the Maze Long Kesh prison in January 1998 to convince Ulster Defence Association (UDA) prisoners to continue their support for the process. This unorthodoxy did not please everyone, however. The Ulster Unionist leader David Trimble reportedly did not know how to take her.

In all this hard work, however, there was still some time for some fun – both Alice Mahon and Chris Smith told us about invitations to stay at Hillsborough Castle for long weekends with Mo and her husband Jonathan Norton. Smith remembered ‘we’d play games, we’d have fabulous meals, we’d sometimes go out and see parts of Northern Ireland. It was huge fun’. Throughout all this Mowlam was battling serious ill-heath: diagnosed with a brain tumour before the election in 1997, she tried to keep her condition private before press reports on her appearance forced her to share it. Helen Jackson remembered Betty Boothroyd letting Mowlam rest in the Speaker’s Apartments when crucial legislation was being passed in Westminster.

On 10 April 1998 members of all sides signed the Good Friday Agreement. A ‘complex and subtle’ document, it settled Northern Ireland’s constitutional position and created the framework for power-sharing in Northern Ireland that still exists today. Creating the Assembly in Stormont with devolved powers, leadership would be effectively shared between nationalists and unionists as First Minister and Deputy First Minister. The Republic of Ireland agreed to rewrite two articles in their constitution regarding Irish unity, and any moves in the future towards a united Ireland would need approval by referenda on both sides of the border. Reviews were commissioned into the police, the Royal Ulster Constabulary, and safeguards included for cross-community equality and human rights. Perhaps most controversially political prisoners would be released early, and paramilitary organisations on all sides agreed to decommission their weapons, if doubts remained about how this would happen.

The Good Friday Agreement was approved by 71% of the people of Northern Ireland in a referendum, although this hid the fact that the unionist community were deeply divided about whether or not to accept it. It took years to implement, with many false starts, and serious violence continued – including the 1998 Omagh bombing, one of the worst atrocities of the Troubles. Yet all those involved in creating the Agreement will be remembered for their courage in compromise. Mowlam herself will be remembered as a crucial, if unorthodox, leader. As Alice Mahon remembered: ‘I think history will be kind to Mo because she wanted peace and she got it.’

In 1999 Mowlam was removed from her position. There have been various suggestions why: her health, objections from Unionists who had come to see her as too sympathetic to Republicans, or even the extent of her popularity on both sides of the Irish Sea. Mowlam was not happy about it, and she retired from cabinet and parliament in 2001. Sadly her illness continued, and she died in 2005. What is clear from our archive is that she is greatly missed: as a towering figure, a key architect of the peace process, and a good friend.

E.P.

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In his interview for the History of Parliament oral history project, Sir John Hannam (MP for Exeter 1970-97) referred in detail to his extensive activities campaigning for disability rights, especially in his role as an officer of the All Party Disablement Group (APDG) (now known as the All-Party Group Parliamentary Group for Disability).

Alf Morris (MP for Manchester Wythenshawe 1964-97) and Jack Ashley (MP for Stoke-on-Trent South 1966-1992) were instrumental in setting up the APDG in 1969. Two years earlier Ashley had suffered the total loss of his hearing: “I was plunged into a new, blank world … whenever I walked into the Chamber I was struck by the absolute silence of the greatest debating forum in the land.” When Morris won first place the Private Member’s Bill ballot in 1969, Morris consulted Ashley about tabling a Bill concerned with disability rights. In 1970  the Chronically Sick and Disabled Persons Act entered the statute book, and in 1974 Morris became the first Minister for the Disabled in the world.

Hannam described the APDG as “the strongest backbench lobby group [Parliament] had ever had.” The records of the APDG testify to the range of issues the group tackled and also serve as a record of the many individuals and organisations from outside Parliament whose expertise and commitment to the rights of the disabled helped the APDG to drive legislation forward.

This is where I first came across the name of Dr Margaret Agerholm when she is listed among the attendees of the 1984 meeting to discuss the Oglesby report. She was there in her capacity as chair of a working party at the National Council for Voluntary Organisations. The minutes of the meeting indicate she was a long-standing actor in this parliamentary sphere, referring to her earlier association with Sir Hugh Rossi (MP for Hornsey and Wood Green, 1966-83) during Rossi’s time as Minister for Social Security during the early 1980s. The minutes also give a sense of Agerholm’s forthright criticism of any inadequacies she identified in public policy for the disabled, contradicting Rossi over what she considered the “poor quality of the review and its report.”

This was someone who was evidently recognised as an expert in her field and confident about the contribution she brought to discussions about advancing disability rights, yet I was surprised to find very little information about her online. What follows shows how the History of Parliament’s collection of interviews with former MPs can kick-start research into many aspects of twentieth-century parliamentary history. Who exactly was Margaret Agerholm and where does she fit into our understanding of British disability history?

I began with a search of Google Scholar. From early work with Professor Josep Trueta into the epidemiology and prevention of polio she developed into a leading and practical authority on the rehabilitation of disabled people. In a 1964 talk she explained that with polio “we were faced with an appalling accumulation of severely disabled, but still alert and enterprising, people, for whose problems standard rehabilitation practice was not always adequate.”

The title of that talk, ‘Helping the Disabled to Live to Capacity’, sums up what I went on to discover about Agerholm’s working life and personal ethos. Thanks to one of those enterprising people I found another reference to her online. Geoff Webb had contracted polio in 1959 and made a recording about adjusting to life as a disabled person which is part of the British Library’s Disability Voices collection. “The Nuffield was a very different kettle of fish to the acute ward I had been in. It was human and everybody was so kind and understanding. Dr Margaret Agerholm was in charge of polio patients and her one mission in life was to get people like me back into society. Within a few weeks she had me getting in and out of bed using hydraulic power instead of a troop of nurses. She lost no time in making me work out plans to set up home on my own.”

I made further headway when I found a brief mention of Agerholm in the philosopher Mary Midgley’s memoir, since Midgley and Agerholm were both students at Somerville College, Oxford University in the late 1930s.

However it was a few random messages to Twitter users called Agerholm where I struck lucky, connecting with Agerholm’s daughter who was delighted to show me boxes of her mother’s papers. From those papers and her daughter’s stories a clear picture of this impressive medical woman has emerged: intelligent, compassionate, determined – an independent thinker whose work transformed the lives of many disabled people.  

Margaret Agerholm (née Myers), born 1917, was known as Greta to her family and friends. At Somerville they included Midgley, Mary Pickard (née Cozens-Hardy), Pamela Schiele and Anne Cobbe (Cobbe later became godmother to one of Agerholm’s sons). Agerholm, Midgley, Cozens-Hardy and Cobbe had all been schoolgirls at Downe House where they were taught History by an old Somervillian, Jean Rowntree. Pickard remembered that “at that time it was considered the natural thing for anyone with sufficient academic gifts to take Somerville entrance in History”, the subject in which Agerholm began her undergraduate studies in 1936. However within a year she had decided she didn’t agree with the way History was being taught and switched to medicine, despite her limited science education. According to her daughter, “she had to teach herself science” and did it so successfully that in 1942 she won the John Radcliffe Clinical Prize.

Letters of recommendation during Agerholm’s early career describe her as an outstanding student, highly intelligent and industrious with a quiet and amusing sense of humour: “she is a woman of strong character, and clear ideas which she has no hesitation in expressing.” One of her first roles was as a graduate assistant in the Nuffield Department of Orthopaedic Surgery and it was there that she met her husband John Agerholm, a Danish orthopaedic surgeon, whom she married in 1945. They had three children before the marriage ended in divorce in the mid-1950s.

By then Agerholm was working as a lecturer at the Nuffield. She continued collaborating with Trueta and led on the design, establishment and running of Mary Marlborough Lodge, a dedicated disabled living research unit which opened in 1960. Her patients included around 70 children referred to the unit who had been severely affected by thalidomide.

It was during this time that she worked with Elizabeth Hollings, the Nuffield’s head occupational therapist, and Wanda Williams, warden of the Mary Marlborough Lodge, to produce Equipment for the Disabled: An Index of Aids and Ideas. The index was designed to allow patients and their families to choose for themselves the options which might be the most helpful.

In 1965 Agerholm moved from Oxford to Surrey, taking up consultant positions at Banstead Place Rehabilitation Centre and with the Inner London Education Authority. In the latter part of her career she worked at Henan House, a residential rehabilitation centre attached to St Joseph’s Hospice in Hackney.

As her experience broadened, Agerholm became convinced of the need to develop a classification and nomenclature of handicap. She saw a universal language as essential in breaking down barriers of communication between medical and social service professionals while enabling disabled people to access the benefits and services to which they were entitled. She also saw it as an important element in the drafting of effective insurance and legal documentation.

Agerholm promoted her publications across her network of professionals, practitioners and policy-makers, notifying MPs such as Alf Morris and arguing her case in the journals of the Medico-Legal Society, the Royal Society of Health and at seminars such as one hosted by the Department for Health and Social Security. Her papers contain correspondence with a wide range of MPs (many of whom belonged to the APDG), civil servants in Whitehall and campaigning organisations, and annotated copies of Hansard debates demonstrate the attention she paid to every change in the relevant legislation.

She understood where influence lay, communicating vigorously with those who could potentially effect positive change for the disabled – her neighbours remembered “the strangely comforting clatter of her typewriter next door, at all hours of the day and night!” Her story illuminates the vast network of experts that support and inform the work of parliamentarians in developing and changing public policy. As her friend Pickard wrote, she was “candid in her criticisms.” Letters published in peer-reviewed journals demonstrate how her detailed knowledge of the provision of services for the disabled enabled her to point out where government decisions were failing rather than improving her patients’ situations.  

Agerholm also had aspirations to shape politics from the inside. She was a long-standing member of the Liberal Party, and ran as a Liberal candidate in her local elections in 1976. Yet she did not need political office to transform the lives of those she cared for. Tributes received on her death in 1986 indicate the extent of her dedication and influence. “Her professional expertise, courage, forthrightness, dislike of petty officialdom and the warmth of her personality made her an unforgettable person.” “A Herculian authority in this field of rehabilitation and her pioneer work helped to establish it as a reputable and scientifically based speciality.” “A tireless campaigner, never afraid to offend those in authority by her plain speaking and totally without any sort of personal ambition.”

Dr Margaret Agerholm, b. 27 November 1917, d. 25 December 1986.

With many thanks to Margaret Agerholm’s family and the archivists at Somerville College and Oxfordshire Health Archives for their assistance.

Further reading

Margaret Agerholm, ‘Helping the Disabled to Live to Capacity’, British Council for Rehabilitation of the Disabled (1964).

Margaret Agerholm, ‘The Changing Character of Disability, 1972’, Physiotherapy, 58(9) (1972).

Jack Ashley, Journey into Silence (1973).

‘Trueta: Surgeon in War and Peace’: the memoirs of Josep Trueta, MD, FRCS, DSc, tr. Meli and Michael Strubell (1980).

Scandals are nothing new for the House of Commons. Just take the twentieth century: there was Lloyd George and the Marconi scandal, the Crichel Down affair, the Profumo resignation or the Poulson fraud trail – cases I remember from A level British Constitution or lived through. More recent generations have also been no strangers to claims of corruption, epitomised by the 2009 expenses scandal, or the allegations of ‘sleaze’ which plagued John Major’s government. History of Parliament interviewee, Lord David Hunt, was charged by Major with finding a way to investigate the claims. This resulted in the formation of the Committee on Standards in Public Life chaired by high court judge Lord Nolan.

As David Hunt explained in our interview, he was well-placed to take on this task. Since 1969 he had been a partner in a law firm which became DAC Beachcroft, combining the roles of solicitor and parliamentarian from 1976 when he became Conservative MP for Wirral. Even from his student days Hunt was interested in public ethics: achieving a balance between rights and responsibilities. Moreover, he recalls Lord Denning (Master of the Rolls) shaking his hand on his qualification as a solicitor and enjoining him to adhere to the highest professional standards. He also held firm views about avoiding potential conflicts of interest: something he formally committed to when he entered the Cabinet as Secretary of State for Wales in 1990 whilst continuing legal practice.

In 1995 Lord Nolan found no evidence of sleaze but widespread perceptions of sleaze in government behaviour. Even this mild conclusion upset Hunt’s Cabinet colleagues. Worse for them and for many MPs was Nolan’s proposal for MPs to agree to follow certain standards in their parliamentary life. Objections came from all quarters, not least from Ted Heath. Opponents of Nolan’s proposition were affronted by the idea that the government should tell them how to behave and to foist its definition of behavioural standards on them: they knew how to conduct themselves according to their own precepts of good practice. In the end Hunt managed to secure Cabinet and parliamentary agreement to Nolan’s code of conduct. This was called the Seven Principles of Public Life which detailed such seemingly uncontentious principles as integrity, honesty and accountability. Hunt reflected that this sort of injunction should be nothing strange to those who were working or had worked in other professional occupations, including the law.

The code has since been widely applied, including being incorporated into the Ministerial Code and the Civil Service Code. As Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster and Minister (Public Service & Science) Hunt was involved in the development of the Civil Service Code believing that civil servants, apart from themselves adhering the highest professional standards, should be protected from undue party political influence. The arrival of special advisers to ministers has created trickier boundaries for civil servants to navigate between public administration and the partisan interests of politicians. Hunt is a keen supporter of the quality of the UK civil service as his experience is that it manages to give independent, impartial, quality advice. He sees the proliferation of unelected SPADs as an unhelpful development in intruding in the relationship between Ministers and their senior civil servants.

Hunt continued to pursue his interest in good governance in his later career, commissioned in 2009 by the Law Society of England and Wales to update the regulation of legal services, and after being raised to the peerage in 1997, serving as a member of the House of Lords committee on Standards and Privileges between 2007 and 2012. In fact, Hunt’s move to the upper chamber itself could be linked to the public backlash against perceived sleaze and MPs exploiting their position for personal gain. In the interview he highlighted the impact of the ‘cash for questions’ scandal involving Tatton MP, Neil Hamilton, and the damage it caused to Conservative prospects in the North-West of England in the 1997 general election. The sight of white-suited BBC journalist, Martin Bell, campaigning against Hamilton and corruption was a visual the contrast in propriety. Hunt lost his West Wirral seat with a near 14% swing to Labour. (Hamilton also lost but by a much bigger margin.)

Boris Johnson’s ousting as Conservative leader following a series of scandals and resignations since the 2019 general election reinforces Hunt’s argument that upholding of personal standards is a perennial Parliamentary requirement and failure to do so has electoral consequences. Yet Hunt acknowledges that the pressure on MPs is these days greater than when he was in the Commons because of the intrusive nature of social media. As chair of the Press Complaints Commission during its closure in 2014 (to be replaced by the Independent Press Standards Organisation) Hunt sought to rein in journalistic excess, but he believes some protection of MPs’ private lives is necessary if they are to lead reasonable lives.

Hunt remains committed to the notion that being given the privilege of representing one’s constituents depends upon MPs ‘making a difference’ and improving their lives, individually and collectively. In his political philosophy this centres on facilitating decent employment, giving choice in housing and securing equal opportunities irrespective of gender, colour or creed. He ended our interview with a final reference to Nolan and the need for ethical standards in serving the public in this way.

P R

Read an earlier blog from Peter Reilly here and find more from our Oral History project here.

Download ALT Text for audio clips here.

The seminar takes place on 18 October 2022, between 5:30 and 7:00 p.m. It is fully ‘hybrid’, which means you can attend either in-person in London at the IHR, or online via Zoom. Details of how to join the discussion are available here

Although sadly I will be presenting solo next week, this paper is a collaboration between myself and Dr Priscila Pivatto and takes inspiration from the first few chapters of our introduction to the History of Parliament’s sound archive, The Political Lives of Postwar British MPs. In it, we explore the importance of home and school lives in creating a political generation.

Our long and wide-ranging oral histories are ideally suited to exploring this topic. We begin our interviews asking about an MP’s home life, and many are surprised by the level of detail we are interested in. We ask about the MP’s parents, their attitudes, how religious the family were, about their wider communities and their schooling. Although perhaps shaped by hindsight and their later political lives, this method can give us rich detail about early influences and help to explain what it is that drives particular individuals into active politics.

Over half of our interviewees, for example, came from homes that could be described as actively political: in parliament, the local party, or trade unions. For example, Sylvia Heal described writing and stuffing envelopes for the Labour party, at times resenting the importance of neat handwriting on the envelopes! Olga Maitland described how, every night in her childhood home, on the ‘ping’ of six the drinks would come out and ‘the [political] conversation would start’, led by her father, who was an MP and later peer.

Even if the family was not politically active most of our interviewees learnt to respect and value politics and public service whilst at home. Many described political arguments, reading newspapers, or otherwise being encouraged to take an interest in the wider world. If this did not happen at home, then it did in school, through debating societies, mock elections and the inspiration (good and bad!) of teachers.

These values often went deeper than which party you supported. Many told us that they were taught the importance of democracy at home, learning the difference between life under a democratic system and various totalitarian systems. Others learnt to value public service, especially in more privileged or religious families. This is best described by Toby Jessel:

[My grandmother] thought Jews from privileged families should give public service. When she heard I’d left the navy, aged seventeen, she took down a photograph of me from a mantelpiece beside one of Queen Mary, banded it and put it in a drawer and never took it out again. And I heard about this, it upset me slightly, and when I failed to get into the Royal Academy of Music, I determined to get on with trying to do public service through politics. […] I, I grew up in a British patriotic and public service atmosphere. Serve the country: queen and country. Toby Jessel (Conservative, 1970–97)

Hilary Armstrong remembered her father, a Methodist lay preacher as well as an MP, telling her along with her brother that: ‘you’ve got some responsibilities for other people. You should be involved in public life in some way.’ These influences could also be quite tribal – the MPs who grew up in the Welsh valleys, for example, described thinking of Tories as ‘odd’, an attitude that never left them!

These men and women grew up to become politically active: joining parties whilst at school, university or because some later cause pushed them into activism. Yet the fundamental values were instilled much earlier, whilst at home. Our archive provides rich and detailed insights into what made a political generation, and helps us to understand their later political thinking.

EP

Emma’s seminar takes place on 18 October 2022, between 5:30 and 7:00 p.m. You can attend either in-person in London at the IHR, or online via Zoom. Details of how to join the discussion are available here

Find out more about the history of the Palace of Westminster and its famous Elizabeth Tower, home to Big Ben, in our upcoming publication with St James’s House, ‘Big Ben: An Icon of Democracy and Leadership’, due for release in December.

We ask every former MP we interview for our Oral History Project about their first impressions on arrival at Westminster, and unsurprisingly many of them discuss the buildings themselves: Westminster Hall, networks of corridors, committee rooms and offices, and of course, the Chamber. The buildings of the Palace form so much of the atmosphere of Parliament, framing the working environment and setting the tone.

The overwhelming first impression from many MPs is a sense of awe. Having worked so hard to get there, the grandeur of the buildings adds to the excitement and an awareness of the privilege of their position. Even Robert Cecil, later Marquess of Salisbury, told us that he felt like ‘a rather small ant in front of this great institution.’ [C1503/131, [1, 00:48:55-00:49:40]]. Of course not everyone was impressed – David Curry told us in no uncertain terms that he was not overwhelmed when he arrived – yet others reflected on the privilege of their new workplace. This could be because of a sense of history: David Clark remembered: ‘you suddenly realise, you know, this is where Churchill walked, Atlee walked, Gladstone, Disraeli, all the big players of British politics, and really the changes of British society were [made] here […] I couldn’t but feel impressed.’ [170, 2, 16.35-17.20]. As Eileen Gordon told us:

Of course the Chamber itself was the focus of a lot of this excitement. Again, several remarked that the Chamber was quite small and intimate, but that this only added to the atmosphere. Matthew Carrington told us that to sit in the Chamber for the first time was ‘absolutely wonderful’ and that he ‘relished’ the atmosphere in a busy and buzzing Question Time. For Ann Widdecombe, it was proof that she had made it as an MP:

Some MPs had less warm reactions to the Palace. For those who felt that Parliament was part of an elite culture they did not belong to, the architecture of the buildings themselves seemed to reinforce a feeling of not being welcome. Anthony Coombs described being ‘overawed’, telling us he was ‘too young’ when he arrived: ‘all [the] Pugin architecture, the statues of the Great and the Good – who subsequently you discover had feet of clay.’[134, 2,06-20-06.40]. For Jenny Tonge the Palace was dark, inward-looking, and cut off from the outside world. She described moths ‘fluttering everywhere’ and mice ‘running around’ in the tea rooms: ‘the whole place is like a crumbling old Dracula’s castle.’ Linda Gilroy had a similar reaction:

There was also the practical consideration of working in a historic building. At least before Portcullis House was built, many were allocated offices in unsuitable locations; asking for a noticeboard might mean having to drill through a medieval wall! Certainly many MPs complained about the state of the facilities and how that hindered their work. This was also the case in the simple practical matter of finding your way around. John Hannam remembered ‘something like 80 miles of corridors’ which meant that ‘you had no idea where you were all the time.’

For good or for bad, the Palace of Westminster formed a distinct impression on our interviewees: it shaped their experience of working in Westminster and how they related to the institution as a whole.

EP

Find more blogs based on our Oral History project here.

‘The Political Lives of Postwar British MPs: An Oral History of Parliament‘, a publication based on the History of Parliament’s Oral History project written by Dr Emma Peplow and Dr Priscila Pivatto, is now available in paperback!

Find out more about the upcoming publication ‘Big Ben: An Icon of Democracy and Leadership’ in this blog.

Sadly Sri Lanka is in the news for all the wrong reasons at the moment: political turmoil and economic instability culminating in the storming of the Presidential Palace. The island has also suffered in recent years from a terrible civil war and a devastating tsunami. I first experienced its charms on my honeymoon and then on a thirtieth anniversary trip, with a work visit in between. Michael Morris, Lord Naseby, whom I interviewed for the History of Parliament, has a much longer association.

In April 1963, Morris was working in Calcutta for Reckitt and Coleman selling household goods like Dettol/Reckitt Blue when he, his wife and young son were despatched at a week’s notice to Ceylon to cover the sudden departure of the marketing manager. He was to be stationed in Colombo for the next nine months. From there he toured the island promoting his company’s products to wholesalers and retailers, visiting markets as well as solving logistical problems.

It was in Ceylon that Morris’s active political interests were developed. He became friendly with the Ceylon Chief Executive of J. Walter Thompson (the international advertising company), Maha de Alwis, who had decided on a parliamentary career and Morris helped him plan his first election campaign. Indeed, De Alwis later became the Speaker of the Sri Lankan Parliament and Morris Deputy Speaker of the House of Commons. When arriving back in England, Morris then helped with the Conservative Party’s GLC election campaign in the Spring of 1964. In turn this led him in 1968 to run successfully for the Tories in the London Borough of Islington where he was chosen as Council Leader. He became an MP in February 1974 winning Northampton South.

On arriving at the Commons, Morris resumed his connection with Sri Lanka through his determination to set up a new, specific All-Party Parliamentary Group (APPG) for that country. APPGs are informal, numerically balanced cross-party groups of Lords and Commoners which promote the interests of their country (or subject area) and seek to improve bilateral relations. He managed to persuade Betty Boothroyd, the House of Commons Speaker, to be vice-chair. Soon the group made its first official visit as the ethnic division between Singhalese and Tamils was becoming more evident and conflictual. Since 1974 both as an MP and as Lord Naseby, after he lost his seat in 1997, he has kept a role with the committee as chair or co-chair.

In his interview for the History of Parliament, Lord Naseby identified the three greatest achievements of his APPG involvement. Firstly, in 1979 he personally persuaded Margaret Thatcher to continue UK funding of the construction of the Victoria Dam on the Mahaweli River in the Kandy district of central Sri Lanka. There had been proposals to axe the aid as part of the incoming government’s cost saving measures, but Morris presented a compelling business (UK companies were heavily involved in the dam’s construction) and environmental (irrigation of the surrounding drought-ridden land was desperately needed) case. Mrs Thatcher officially opened the dam in 1985.

Secondly, he was instrumental in obtaining test cricket playing status for Sri Lanka in 1981 from the International Cricket Conference working with Gamini Dissanayake, a prominent politician also connected to the Mahaweli Development Project (subsequently assassinated by the Tamil Tigers). Together they plotted how to secure the support of the ICC and the England Cricket Board. The success of Sri Lanka’s elevation was demonstrated earlier this month by their defeat of Australia by a substantial margin in a test match played in Galle even while a political revolution was taking place in Colombo, eighty miles away.

His third memorable contribution to Sri Lanka was in December 2004 when the tsunami hit the southern side of the island. Naseby and his wife Ann were watching Boxing Day television news when they saw the tsunami’s devastation. They left as soon as possible for the island. Ann, a GP, offered support to the medical and education systems in Colombo. He worked on other logistical challenges, ‘untying knots,’ getting in supplies through the UK High Commissioner. Their trip started in the Maldives (he was chair for its APPG too). There his efforts included arranging a supply of eight Royal Navy electricians who were stationed in Trincomalee to restart the electrical generation capacity of many atolls which had been damaged by the flood, but with special dispensation from President Maumoon Abdul Gayoom to allow alcohol consumption by the servicemen in what is normally a ‘dry’ country.

However, given the civil war and claims and counter-claims of wartime atrocities by the Sri Lankan army and the Tamil Tigers, UK Parliamentary involvement in that country’s affairs is not straightforward. Since war officially ended in 2009, Naseby sought to obtain evidence of whether the national army was involved in human rights’ abuses through access to the despatches of the UK’s military attaché. He has also been working to establish a truth and reconciliation process akin to Colombia’s rather than South Africa’s. Colombia focused its efforts on the clarification of the truth, recognition of the victims and promotion of peaceful coexistence between previous enemies. Testimonies obtained during the process cannot be used in any individual prosecutions.

In 2020 Lord Naseby published a book on Sri Lanka. Its sub-title ‘Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained’ now seems premature in its optimism. Let us hope that the country’s political institutions can regain popular approval and a new government restore economic stability. In that process it can count on loyal supporters like Naseby and of the parliamentary committee he established and led.

P R

If you are interested in volunteering as an interviewer for the History of Parliament Oral History project, find out more here or email website@histparl.ac.uk.

Find more blogs based on our Oral History project here.