Human Rights & Democracy Movement

THE WESTMINSTER SYSTEM:
ITS RELEVANCE TO TONGA IN THE 21ST CENTURY
(By Dr. Bill Hodge)

INTRODUCTION

I have been asked to speak about the Westminster system, which, together with the Presidential model, is one of the two great political-constitutional systems prevalent in the world today.

In Part I, I describe briefly the essence of the Westminster system, and its similarities to, and differences from, the Presidential model. I conclude that part by suggesting that the success of the Westminster system, and its real strength, is its near-infinite flexibility. Its essential characteristics are so suttle that, at one extreme, it has been plugged into the traditional village economics of small, sun-baked tropical islands, governing a few thousand people like those of Niue and Nauru, and at the other, it turns over the engines of government in a frozen continental dominion, reaching tens of millions of ice-skating, hockey-playing French – and English – speakers, like those of Canada.

In Part II, I thought it useful, for this audience, to review in a few paragraphs, the peaceful evolutionary development of the characteristics of that system, in 18th century England, a world away from 20th century Tonga. My conclusion here is that the English parliamentarians of that era, the anti-Catholic Puritans and anti-royal Whigs had no idea whatsoever what to do with their winning position after defeating the Stuart kings of the 17th Century, Charles I and James II. The parliamentary forces had won a thumping great victory, a double test victory in the Puritan Revolution of the 1640s and the Glorious Revolution of 1688. There was, however, no precedent, no constitutional guide book, and no fly-in overseas academic experts like Paul Theroux to lecture them. That, of course, was just as well, since they worked out the right answer the hard way, step by step and by trial and by error.

In Part III, to follow on era from remote 17th century Englishmen, we turn to the modern Pacific, and the constitutional system of every independent Polynesian, Melanesian and Micronesian state. My purpose here is not to suggest that Tonga is out of step; it is for Tongans, alone, to take stock and look around. Perhaps if they see something common to the systems of theCook Islands, Niue, Western Samoa, Tuvalu, Vanuatu, the Solomon Islands, Papua New Guinea, Fiji, Nauru, Kiribati and the Marshall Islands, well, as what the Judges say, that is a matter for you.

In Part IV, I admit that all is not well in many Parliamentary systems, such as New Zealand, where the Westminster formula may have aged poorly, stiffened with misuse, broken down with abuse, and may be headed for a major overhaul. I conclude, however, that the culprit in New Zealand is the rigid British two-party revolving door, with rule by party caucus and party whip. This conclusion affords me the luxury, happily, of telling you that the stench of state party politics is most un-Tongan and unlikely to pain any conceivable future Tongan Westminster experimentation.

PART I: THE WESTMINSTER SYSTEM IN BRIEF

Every constitutional system has a law-making body, like the American Congress and the Japanese Diet. Every constitutional system has a formal head of state like the American president and the Japanese Emperor. The distinction between the Westminster model and the Presidential model, the absolutely crucial difference, is the linkage, or the barrier between the lawmakers collectively, and the formal head of state.

A legislature, if I might be permitted an automotive metaphor, is like the internal combustion engine of a powerful motor vehicle. It burns a voltile, even explosive political mixture in a legislative chamber. It generates raw, but sometimes directionless power. To continue this metaphor of the state as motor vehicle, the critical issue then, is the driver who sits in the driver’s seat? Who decides whether the state shall go forward, or back, left or right, and at what speed? In the Presidential model, an independently elected president sits in that driver’s seat, with power derived directly from popular choice. Such a presidential term in the driver’s seat is for a fixed constitutional period (four years in the U.S., six years in Mexico, seven years in France) and that term is in no way dependent upon “confidence” of the legislative body or any party majority in the legislature.

In the other system, to pursue this metaphor just a bit further, the Westminster mechanism is like the transmission and universal joint of a motor vehicle, which transmits and transfers power from the up and down motion of the pistons to the rotary motion of the rear wheels. It allows those who have control of the engine to take control of the steering wheel and foot pedals and sit in the driver’s seat. Most importantly, it relegates the formal head of state, such as the emperor of Japan, to the passenger seat. Sitting there, the head of state as passenger has only the right, the privilege of any passenger, to be informed by the driver of the vehicle’s direction and destination, as well as the right to advise and to warn the driver of the sharp curves and pot holes ahead.

Having pushed my clumsy automotive metaphor about as far as it will go, uphill, I should now turn to a real expert, the original, and after one and a quarter centuries still the best analyst of the British Westerminster system. Walter Bagehot pulished ‘The English Constitution’ in 1867, and with its introduction by Richard Crossman, the republication of 1963 remains the classic revelation of how the English Constitution actually operates. In Part IV, I will return to Crossman’s Introduction, and its incisive critique of Cabinet, but for now allow me to paraphrase Bagehot’s conclusions.
First he divided English political institutions into two categories: the dignified parts, the monarchy and the House of Lords, which were “imposing, very old, and rather venerable” (p.65) with “excite and preserve the reverence of the population” (p.61) and the efficient parts, being the House of Commons and the Cabinet, by which the authority held by the dignified parts is actually employed and used.
Secondly, “the efficient secret of the English Constitution may be described as the close union, the nearly complete fusion of the executive and legislative powers … The connecting link is the Cabinet.”

Thirdly, he defined Cabinet as “a board of control chosen by the legislature, out of persons whom it trusts and knows, a committee of the legislative body selected to be the executive body” (p.66-67) [emphasis]. Although the Ministers as individuals enjoy the Queen’s warrant, it is a fiction that they are Her servants. The Cabinet in fact is “a combining committee – a hyphen which joins, a buckle which fastens, the legislative part of the state to the executive part of the state. In its origin it belongs to the one, in its functions it belongs to the other” (p.68) [emphasis in the original].
The genius of this two-layer system, like a snake with two skins, or a musculature concealed within an outer shell, is that the inner layer, the efficient part, evolved peacefully, without violence (but see Part II) and in the absence of statutory codification. Because there is no constitutional rigidity here, the practice of the Cabinet government, the steering of the executive by the leaders of the legislature, is capable of complete flexibility. The Cabinet is usually dominated by members of the Commons, but members of the House of Lords frequently figure prominently. There is no absolute necessity for membership in either House, though the convention is strong that a Cabinet member without a seat will soon gain one. The Cabinet is usually composed of members of the majority faction, or party, in the House, but Coalition Government is entirely possible, either because no one party has an absolute majority, or because of national emergency. By convention the formal Head of State, the Queen, will take absolute majority, or because of national emergency. By convention the formal Head of State, the Queen, will take advice from the political leader, the Prime Minister, in presenting a legislative programme to the Parliament, in making appointments to the Ministry, in signing regulations and statutes, and in convening or dissolving an elected Parliament. Of course, that is a convention, a political habit, a custom grown up over three centuries. The convention is, simply put, that the formal Head of State, the monarch of England, the Governor-General in the Dominions, will take the unanimous advice from the Cabinet, as offered by the Prime Minister. (There is never a minority or dissenting opinion emanting from Cabinet, for the simple reason that that might re-invigorate the royal prerogative by providing alternative courses of action. When “advice” is offered, it is never served up as a choice). Of course, the convention that the Head of State takes advice from the Prime Minister is dependent upon the Prime Minister continuing to enjoy the “confidence” of the majority of electoral representatives – if the Prime Minister no longer commands a majority, or if the Prime Minister cannot meet the minimum test, which is to pass a budget, then there is no reason for the Head of State to continue to accept advice.

In the Presidential model, in contrast, the President remains an independent decision-maker with a genuine power of veto and a power base external to the legislature. A Presidential cabinet is also a council of advisors and departmental heads, but, in contrast to the Westminster Cabinet, the President appoints the members of the Cabinet, from outside Congress (or, if they are inside Congress, they resign their seat in the legislature). The Senate, the upper of the two houses of Congress, must consent to the appointment of those Cabinet officers, just as they do judicial nominations, as well as treaties entered into by the President in his foreign affairs power. The President is thus checked and balanced, but only balanced, not blanketed, not reduced to the “nodding automation” of New Zealand legend.

I should add that in my opinion while the Westminster head of state takes advice inconventional situations, there remains a reserve or emergency power, which has never been legally abolished, residing in the Monarch or Governor-General, which comes to the fore in times of legislative gridlock, or national emergency, be that emergency natural disaster or insurrectionary armed rebellion. The Head of State remains an ultimate constitutitonal safeguard, a symbol of national unity and historical experience – but not a day-to-day hands on chief executive officer.

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