The UK national anthem is an embarrassing dirge belted out by sycophantic fools who salivate at the thought of being awarded an MBE

Martin Shipton

The treatment meted out to newly elected SNP MP Lara Bird exemplifies the obnoxious combination of sneering condescension and blind deference to authority that makes a certain kind of Englishness so unappealing.

Having won a resounding victory in the Arbroath and Broughty Ferry by-election, Ms Bird had to go through the anachronistic and undemocratic ritual of swearing an oath of allegiance to the monarch before she could undertake her parliamentary duties.

In line with many republican MPs before her, she crossed her fingers before uttering the compulsory oath and declared that her loyalty was to the people of Scotland.

Within minutes, right-wing TV anchors were launching personal attacks on her dress sense, her accent and her finger crossing.

The idea that there might be something wrong with a political system that forces those who have been elected to swear allegiance to an unelected king does not deflect such people from their vitriol for an instant.

I doubt whether they have much knowledge of history, and particularly of how the oath of allegiance impinged on the last occasion when the UK underwent a break-up.

To listen to Talk TV hosts with their – to me – unappealing estuarial accents, one would think that Lara Bird’s principled act of defiance was a previously unimaginable example of lèse-majesté.

In fact, the oath of allegiance became a major stumbling block in the talks that led to the establishment of the Irish Free State more than 100 years ago. The issue was seen at the time as at least as important as the partition of Ireland, with six north-eastern counties hived off artificially to form a unionist statelet.

The British negotiators, overseen by David Lloyd George, were adamant that those elected to the Dáil should take an oath of allegiance to the monarch. The Irish nationalists were bitterly split between those who saw acceptance of partition and the oath as pragmatic stepping stones to an Irish republic and those who, at least initially, saw such compromises as a betrayal. The difference of opinion led to a civil war that resulted in a Pyrrhic victory for the stepping stone faction, whose charismatic leader Michael Collins was assassinated. Eventually, in 1933, the oath of allegiance for members of the Dáil was scrapped by legislation introduced by Éamon de Valera, the head of government at the time. Having previously threatened war over the issue, the British state did nothing.

Yet in Britain, the oath of allegiance is still regarded as sacrosanct. Those elected to the House of Commons, to the Scottish Parliament, or to the Senedd who refuse to take the oath or affirmation are barred from participating in any proceedings, and from receiving their salaries. Members of the House of Commons could also be fined £500, and have their seat declared vacant “as if [they] were dead”, if they attempt to do so.

To be specific, Section 23 of the Government of Wales Act 2006 requires members of the Senedd to take the oath of allegiance.

Likewise, Section 84 of the Scotland Act 1998 requires Members of the Scottish Parliament to take the oath of allegiance at a meeting of the Parliament.

Republicans have nevertheless continued to express opposition to a compulsory oath made to an unelected monarch.

In 1992, when taking the oath, Tony Benn stated: “As a dedicated republican, I solemnly swear …”

‘Under protest’

After the 1997 election, he expanded on his position, stating: “As a committed republican, under protest, I take the oath required of me by law, under the Parliamentary Oaths Act of 1866, to allow me to represent my constituency …”. Later he said: “When one looks at the oaths of a Privy Counsellor, a Member of Parliament and the Sovereign at the coronation, they throw an interesting light on the obligations by which we are bound. The reality is that nobody takes an oath to uphold democracy in Britain. The Queen takes an oath to govern the country and uphold the rights of the bishops. We take an oath to the Queen. Nobody in the House takes an oath to uphold democracy in Britain.”

However, members of the Northern Ireland Assembly are not required to take an oath of allegiance – proving yet again that taking up arms can be more persuasive than peaceful debate.

Instead, members are required to sign the Assembly’s roll of membership, designate their identity as “Nationalist”, “Unionist” or “Other”, and take a Pledge of Office.

Members pledge to discharge in good faith all the duties of office; commit to non-violence and exclusively peaceful and democratic means; commit to serve all the people of Northern Ireland equally, and to act in accordance with the general obligations on government to promote equality and prevent discrimination; undertake to promote the interests of the whole community represented in the Northern Ireland Assembly towards the goal of a shared future; participate fully in the Executive Committee, the North-South Ministerial Council and the British-Irish Council; observe the joint nature of the offices of First Minister and Deputy First Minister; uphold the rule of law based as it is on the fundamental principles of fairness, impartiality and democratic accountability, including support for policing and the courts; participate with colleagues in the preparation of a programme for government; operate within the framework of that programme when agreed within the Executive Committee and endorsed by the Assembly; support, and to act in accordance with, all decisions of the Executive Committee and Assembly; and, comply with the Ministerial Code of Conduct.

Democratically acceptable

Unfortunately, neither the Senedd nor the Welsh Government has the power to scrap the oath of allegiance or adapt it to a version more democratically acceptable like the Pledge of Office in Northern Ireland.

I know that the recently elected Plaid Cymru government will take the view that it has more important matters to prioritise. But for me, the continuation of this feudal, medieval custom is part of a bigger problem that holds Wales and Britain back. We continue to be subjects rather than citizens and deference to an unelected monarch remains the default position in British society, with those like Lara Bird who refuse to conform subjected in her case to misogynistic bullying by those able to misuse a public platform.

The UK national anthem is an embarrassing dirge belted out by sycophantic fools who salivate at the thought of being awarded an MBE – one of the lowest rungs in an honours hierarchy dedicated to perpetuating an empire that came to an inglorious end many decades ago. Whenever I hear it I want the other team to win.

Imperial nostalgia is especially beloved by the knuckle-dragging morons of the far right. The likes of Farage see it as a good mood to tap into as they dupe people into believing they are on their side.

Thankfully, there are signs that their allure is waning: they were, after all, decisively defeated in Wales, and polls show that their support continues to decline.