The writer is reader in history at Queen Mary University of London
As Boris Johnson’s future hangs in the balance, one question seems to preoccupy his MPs. Can a nation change its leader in time of war? One country has done so repeatedly, and in the most perilous of circumstances. That country is the UK.
The British have a long tradition of removing war leaders. HH Asquith, who led Britain into the first world war, was ousted in December 1916, only a week after the first bombing raid on London by a German aeroplane. Neville Chamberlain fell in May 1940, as the Nazi war-machine was pouring into Belgium, Luxembourg and the Netherlands. Winston Churchill was voted out of office in July 1945, a month before the first atomic bombs were dropped on Japan. Clement Attlee lost power during the Korean war in 1951. Unlike today, when no UK troops are caught up in Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, that conflict saw 60,000 British troops engaged.
Nearly 40 years later, in November 1990, another war leader would fall from office. On the very day that Margaret Thatcher announced her resignation, the UK dispatched 14,000 troops to the Gulf in response to Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait, part of a military commitment that would reach 50,000 personnel. Thatcher had played a significant role in galvanising the international response, yet that did little to save her from domestic discontent.
The ability to change leader during a crisis was once regarded as a strength of the British system. Walter Bagehot, the Victorian constitutionalist, thought that one of the strongest arguments for a parliamentary system was its ability, “at the sudden occurrence of a grave tempest, to change the helmsman”. He was writing only a decade after the Crimean war of 1853-56, when the Aberdeen coalition had been upended in favour of Lord Palmerston.
Such parallels are not, of course, exact. Like Aberdeen, Asquith and Chamberlain were removed amid widespread discontent at their military policy. By contrast, Johnson’s position on Ukraine enjoys cross-party support. Yet that also removes an impediment to change. If Johnson were all that stood between the UK making a radical shift in foreign policy, the case for overlooking other offences might, perhaps, be stronger. But it is difficult to envisage any plausible successor pursuing a substantially different approach.
In truth, it is not war that makes it hard to change leader, but the rules of the Conservative party. In 1916 and 1940, a new premier could be installed in a day. Even in 1990, just two weeks elapsed between Michael Heseltine’s challenge and John Major’s arrival in Downing Street.
Today, the process is more cumbersome. The requirement to hold a ballot of party members — a process that took nearly two months in 2019 — has made it harder to change leaders at pace. A protracted power struggle between, for example, the current foreign secretary and defence secretary might not be conducive to good policy, despite the broad consensus on the war.
Whether this can be a decisive objection is less clear. If the internal procedures of the Conservative party are an obstacle to change, the patriotic course might be to change those procedures, rather than retain a leader who would otherwise be removed. The right to choose the prime minister could, under these circumstances, revert to MPs — a system that allows for swifter action.
In a healthy democracy, the conduct of policy should not depend upon one transcendent leader. It should be possible to uphold democratic norms at home, as well as abroad, and to demand high standards at times of international crisis. Whatever else it might obscure, the fog of war should not be allowed to cover the faults of those in domestic office. For as previous generations recognised, it is in times of crisis that the quality of leadership matters most.
