In Westminster, Politicians Come and Go, but Traditions Endure

Governments change, prime ministers come and go, and political parties alternate in power, but the enduring traditions of Westminster remain. The green benches, the Mace, the two wooden boxes touched by speakers on either side of the House, and the rules governing parliamentary debate have stood witness for centuries to a simple truth: individuals depart, but Parliament endures through its traditions.

Sir Keir Starmer’s final session of Prime Minister’s Questions also became a vivid lesson in Westminster culture and its constitutional traditions.

The weekly confrontation is normally allotted half an hour. It is sharp and fast-paced, punctuated by sarcasm and cutting remarks, as both the prime minister and the leader of the opposition seek to inflict maximum political damage on one another. A well-timed quip can wound more deeply than a lengthy speech.

This time, however, the exchange between Starmer and opposition leader Kemi Badenoch went on longer than usual. The sarcasm softened into something more cordial, and confrontation gave way to banter between two political adversaries who knew this would be their last encounter of its kind.

The exchanges at the Dispatch Boxes lasted 45 minutes, while the entire segment, including the transition to the next item of business, ran for 49 minutes. There was no crisis to justify the extra time; the House of Commons simply allowed the farewell to run its course.

The scene also contained an element of the political hypocrisy from which parliaments are rarely free. Most of the government MPs who rose to applaud Starmer were the same MPs who, only days earlier, had nominated his rival, Andy Burnham, to succeed him, helping to drive one of the final nails into the coffin of his government.

Ministers and prominent Labour figures sat at a distance from him on the government benches. In Westminster, the geography of where politicians sit can sometimes reveal a transfer of power before words formally acknowledge it.

Even so, most of them rose to applaud him at the end. Westminster politics can, if only temporarily, draw a line between political rivalry and respect for an opponent.

But the Speaker of the House, Sir Lindsay Hoyle, is charged with maintaining order. Applause is not traditionally part of House of Commons proceedings, despite having crept into the chamber with increasing frequency in recent years. Approval is conventionally expressed through cries of “Hear, hear,” rather than through the clapping common in other parliaments.

And so, most government MPs found themselves reprimanded by the Speaker for applauding the very man they had just helped remove from office.

Some of Westminster’s rituals may appear strange at first glance. There is no elevated podium from which the prime minister delivers speeches. Instead, the head of government and the leader of the opposition stand at two historic wooden lecterns known as the Dispatch Boxes.

From these boxes, speeches are delivered, questions are asked, policies are announced, and history records moments of triumph and defeat. Speakers place their papers on top of the box and often rest their hands on its edge as they face their opponents across the chamber, separated, according to tradition, by a distance designed to prevent two fully extended swords from touching.

If the chamber were a theatre, the two Dispatch Boxes would occupy the front of its stage, while the Mace would command the scene from the central table between them, where the House clerks sit in their traditional wigs.

The golden Mace is the visible symbol of Parliament’s authority, derived from the Crown.

At the beginning of each parliamentary sitting day, the Speaker proceeds ceremonially from his official quarters to the House of Commons chamber. Ahead of him walks the Serjeant at Arms — the sword-bearing parliamentary officer and holder of one of Westminster’s oldest offices — carrying the Mace.

The Mace is then placed on the Table of the House, signifying that the Commons is formally in session and that its constitutional authority is in force. When proceedings end, it is lifted from the table and carried out of the chamber behind the Speaker.

The presence of the Mace on the table gives parliamentary proceedings their constitutional life; its removal brings down the curtain.

Farewells by departing prime ministers have long formed part of Britain’s political memory.

Tony Blair’s final words from the government Dispatch Box, after ten years as prime minister, were: “That is that. The end.” The words fell almost like a Shakespearean curtain descending on an entire era.

David Cameron, meanwhile, bade farewell to the House with humour, borrowing a line Tony Blair had once directed at him: “I was the future once.” He left the chamber burdened by the result of the Brexit referendum, which brought his premiership to a premature end.

Boris Johnson, characteristically, was more theatrical. He concluded his final appearance with Arnold Schwarzenegger’s famous Terminator line: “Hasta la vista, baby.”

Yet another phrase famously associated with Schwarzenegger — “I’ll be back” — seemed to linger behind Johnson’s words, hinting at the possibility of a political return.

Starmer, by contrast, chose words that were simpler and quieter:

“Thank you, Mr Speaker. It has been an honour to serve in this House.”

There was none of Johnson’s defiance, none of Blair’s dramatic brevity, and none of Cameron’s self-deprecating wit. Yet his words perhaps unintentionally captured the essence of what had unfolded over those unusually long 45 minutes: a prime minister was leaving, while the House remained.

The Speaker restored order to the chamber and moved on to the next item of business. Parliamentary work resumed as though history had paused for only a few moments.

The green benches remained.

The Dispatch Boxes remained.

The Mace remained upon the Table of the House.

Governments change and political figures come and go, but the rituals, rules and symbols endure.