Fixed-term Parliaments

The Fixed-term Parliaments Act (FTPA) was enacted after the General Election of 2010, which resulted in a hung parliament. As part of the coalition agreement between the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats, the purpose of the Act was a short-term one: to prevent either coalition party causing a snap election at a time of its choosing. Under the FTPA the next general election is automatically scheduled for the first Thursday in May of the fifth year after the previous general election—or the fourth year if the date of the previous election was before the first Thursday in May.

The first election called under the Act was that of 2015. In 2019, because the Conservative government of the day could not get its Brexit Bill through the House of Commons, they introduced the Early Parliamentary General Election Bill, to take advantage of one of the exceptions provided for in the FTPA, whereby an election can take place subject to the approval of two-thirds of MPs. In a moment of egregious hubris and stupidity, Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn directed his MPs to vote for the Bill ("bring it on!"), the election resulting in an overall majority of 80 for the Conservative party and the subsequent passing into law of Brexit.

The new government then proposed to repeal the FTPA ("job done; let's get back to the PM doing whatever he wants"); the Fixed-term Parliaments Act 2011 (Repeal) Bill was introduced in December 2020 and a joint Commons-Lords Committee established to consider its provisions. After the Committee reported, the Bill - renamed as Dissolution and Calling of Parliament Bill (DACOP) - was given its first reading on 12 May this year and completed all stages through the House of Commons on 13 September, being given a third reading by 312 votes to 55.

The second reading debate is scheduled for 24 November (SOON - diarise this) in the House of Lords. It's clear that this legislation will be enacted so: does it matter?

The Liberal Democrats, Green Party and Scottish Nationalists were those who voted against the DACOP. I suppose that's understandable: they will never (at least for a while) be in a position to benefit from the restoration of the power of the Prime Minister of the day to request a prorogation from the Monarch. It is clearly in the interest of the two largest parties, who expect to be competing for forming a government, to be able to call an election when they seem best placed to win it. The Labour Party manifesto of 2019 promised to repeal the FTPA on the grounds that it had "stifled democracy and propped up weak governments". They however inexplicably abstained this time round, clearly uncertain whether they supported democracy or not.

At present the FTPA is still in place and the next general election is due on 2 May 2024. Given the present government's travails, it may actually not happen until then - the DACOP still includes the "maximum five year" term limit.

Should we care about this? I guess for some of my readers a return to the old arrangement might seem more likely to result in a "get rid of Boris" moment but it might actually turn out to be the opposite; be careful what you wish for. I'm not sure that Prime Ministers are always smart enough to judge the moment to call an election. Remember Gordon Brown in 2008? Missing the opportunity after taking over from Tony Blair, he "bottled" it. The Guardian called it "the biggest unforced political error in the history of New Labour."

I turned to Wikipedia for an assessment of how the biggest democracies of the world handled the issue of fixed term parliaments. The most common appear to be fixed or maximum terms with provisions for extreme circumstances such as a deadlock between two chambers, e.g. the House of Representatives and Senate in Australia. The three "absolute", i.e. non-negotiable, fixed term parliaments are in the US, Europe and Norway. In Australia, actually, the Senate has the "fixed except for deadlock" provision but the House of Representatives has only a maximum term. There are so many weird variations that I would need a few years of constant [and sponsored] travel round the world to get you the information you need in order to judge the pros and cons of each different system.

If you don't see Boris or Geoffrey Cox in the House of Commons for the next few months, that's probably what they're doing.

Katsushika Hokusai

More stimulating paintings...I really like these. Katsushika Hokusai was a 19th century Japanese artist who used the wood block technique of ukiyo-e, which translates as "pictures of the floating world".

In the beginning there was the wave. The towering blue-and-white tsunami in the foreground of the most august of mountains in Japan, 'The Great Wave off Kanagawa' was one of Katsushika Hokusai’s series of “Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji.”

Hokusai later produced "One Hundred Views of Mount Fuji". Also from the Thirty-Six Views of Mount Fuji, though, I selected the following.

Lake Suwa Shinano Province:

Fine Wind, Clear Morning:

There are many more for you explorers to find. Let me know your favourites and, since I don't think you can insert images in comments, I'll post them for you.

Kamāl ud-Dīn Behzād

Kamāl ud-Dīn Behzād was a 15th/16th century Persian painter, living and working in the tiny city of Herat. A Great Artist in the Civilization VI computer game, we learn:

Behzad lived his life primarily in the city of Herat, in what is today Afghanistan. His miniatures were exceptional in the way that human figures and architecture were arranged on the page, creating a sense of flow that draws viewers’ eyes around the page. These miniatures were testaments to the cosmopolitanism of the time – they drew inspiration from Chinese art, portrayed individuals of all of the different peoples that lived their lives in the globally-connected empire, and focused as much on everyday moments of humanity as well as those of conquering kings. While Persian art did not forbid showing human figures (as much Muslim art did), Behzad also excelled in incorporating Persian love for architecture and geometry, creating dizzying patterns with tiles, roof gables, staircases, etc (as in the miniature Yusef and Zuleykha).

Behzad remains thought of as one of the most notable Muslim artists of the medieval period.

I thought I'd share some images of works attributed to Behzad. Let me know if, like me, you like them.

The construction of castle Khavarnaq

Battleground of Timur and the Mamluk Sultan of Egypt.

Timur granting audience on the occasion of his accession

Credibility Stretch

Man turns up at his wife's memorial and makes a speech in which he accuses her of selfishness in committing suicide.

Man (same man, let's call him Our Man for brevity), a surgeon, hooks up with a dodgy cockney (we'll call him Lee, because that's his name), who is an eco-eccentric and survivalist with a whole suite of 'rooms' deep underground beneath Temple [remember that, you'll need it later] tube station. They run a business providing medical services to those who are unwilling to go through the usual medical channels. Patching up gunshot wounds, for instance.

We discover that Our Man's wife isn't actually dead. She is in a 'hospital ward' in the underground complex, next to a laboratory in which he is continuing her research into a possible cure for her illness.

Lee brings in a mate (we'll call him Jamie) with a gunshot wound. Jamie arrives with £2 million in a brown paper bag (actually a sports bag). He ran away with the cash from a robbery, leaving his fellow robbers at the mercy of the police. Who are now looking for him. The robbers that is. And the police of course.

Jamie needs a blood transfusion but they have run out of the universal O negative. Our Man phones the only person he knows with that blood type - Anna, his wife's co-researcher and his ex lover - and 'invites' her to see his new home, where she is knocked out with chloroform and her blood used on Jamie.

Anna finds Our Man's wife and agrees to help the research.

Jamie's pregnant wife is given a 'burner' phone with which to communicate with Jamie - the underground complex has full WiFi, obviously - and not surprisingly she gets interrogated. By the police. And the mates of the by now incarcerated robbers.

Our Man discovers that his wife is suffering renal failure and needs a kidney transplant. He makes contact with an underworld supplier of kidneys and needs £100,000 to buy one. So he steals the money from Jamie's stash.

Sounds a promising plot for a TV show? It. Does. Not. Unless it's a comedy. Which Sky's Temple is not, being presented as a 'medical crime drama'.

I've watched some dross in my time as an armchair TV critic but this takes the proverbial biscuit. Want a recommendation? Avoid it like the plague. The above summary covers five episodes of this ludicrous show. There are many more but I won't be watching.

Government by Panic

The Parliamentary Standards Committee recommended that the House of Commons suspend Conservative MP Owen Paterson for 30 days for a number of 'cash for questions' offences outlined by the Standards Commissioner.

Maybe the Prime Minister was worried that the Parliamentary Standards Committee might unearth more unpalatable truths about his fellow Tories.

So he panicked, whipping his MPs to vote against the motion - normally approved unanimously - to suspend Paterson. 13 of them voted in favour of the motion to suspend, i.e.  against the Government and 38 (shamefully - do you not care about this important issue?) abstained. A Minister was sacked.

Today the government reversed its stance and promised a repeat of the suspension vote. The Minister was un-sacked.

Later Owen Paterson resigned as an MP. So there will no longer be a re-vote.

Could the government have handled this any worse?

Cornelis Gert Jan

The Cornelis Gert Jan is a British trawler that was impounded by the French authorities in the UK-France fishing dispute, part of the residual outcome of issues in the Brexit trade deal with the EU which were "kicked down the road" for future resolution in order to get the deal done in time for 31 December 2020.

But the most important part of this dispute is not Brexit. The ship is a scallop dredger, an irresponsible and destructive type of "fishing" which scoops up layers of the sea bed, destroying habitat and ruining fishing for years to come. You can see the heavy metal [no! not Black Sabbath, my musical friends] scoops used here:

openseas.org.uk tells us "Scallop dredging is known to have the most severe ecological effect of all UK marine fisheries because of the damage and mortality it causes to the seabed habitat and species that live there." These effects are known to governments and they typically designate a limited number of areas where bottom dredging is allowed. A 2014 report for the University of York states "The king scallop fishery is the fastest growing fishery in the UK and currently the second most valuable. The UK is also home to the largest queen scallop fishery out of all of Europe ... the majority of scallop landings (95%) are made by vessels towing scallop dredges."

I tried reasonably hard to find out in what proportion of the coastal waters of the UK dredging is allowed but, unable to raise enough enough enthusiasm to wade through academic reports, I suggest we all get someone to submit a Freedom of Information request to answer the question.