There are few issues that can compete with the "Europe Question" for time in British political debate. Sure, the National Health Service struggles to do its job properly, and the trains have a tendency to crash, but it is Great Britain's involvement in "Europe" -- be that the Council of Europe, or the European Union and its various endeavours -- which dominates discussion. Euroscepticism long ago entered regular parlance.
It was seen as a remarkable step in 1998 when the Labour government of Prime Minister Tony Blair finally incorporated the European Convention on Human Rights into U.K. law. For the first time in constitutional history, British courts had to decide on issues of human rights. And now, in response to the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington, the British government is attempting to withdraw from many of these responsibilities with the attempted passage of a new Anti-Terrorism bill currently still under consideration. And in a surprising turn of events, the House of Lords -- far from a symbol of democracy -- is playing the unlikely role of defender of British civil rights.
The European Convention on Human Rights -- of which Britain is a signatory -- came into being by a vote of the Council of Europe in 1950, and for the most part mirrors the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the United Nations two years earlier. Also similar to the U.S. Constitution's Bill of Rights, the Convention is a reaffirmation of what most Americans take for granted: rights to life, a fair trial, expression, thought and religion, and assembly and association. Among other rights also included are prohibitions against discrimination, torture and slavery.
At issue in Parliament at the moment, however, is Article 15: "In time of war or other public emergency threatening the life of the nation any High Contracting Party may take measures derogating from its obligations under this Convention to the extent strictly required by the exigencies of the situation, provided that such measures are not inconsistent with its other obligations under international law."
In other words, opt out when necessary.
Before addressing the House of Commons last week, David Blunkett, the Home Secretary (a high-ranking position with duties similar to the new Homeland Security Czar) duly declared the necessary state of public emergency and then introduced his legislation, with a vote due only a couple days later. Uproar ensued, with members from all parties protesting that the speed with which the bill was moving was extremely unconstructive, especially given the seriousness of the measures.
Echoing many U.S. government officials on the need for similar types of acts in America, Blunkett responded that speed was of the utmost importance in order to combat (and protect against) international terrorism, and that not only was the law "measured and proportionate," but he could have come up with "even more draconian measures than the ones I am accused of bringing before this House."
Many commentators agreed with the government and called the action necessary to fight Britain's reputation for being soft on terrorism, and a popular destination for fringe and exile foreigner groups. Coming in the midst of a continuing debate over asylum-seekers, the bill found additional support nationwide.
The legislation itself expands the government's powers to combat terrorism in a variety of ways, allowing it to take actions similar to those done by executive order in the United States. Nearly every measure has generated some level of controversy, from human rights watchdogs and opposition-party legislators, to comedians.
Much of the early attention was focused on grumbling from the last group. Part of the new bill prohibits "religious hate speech" -- defined as hatred against any group by reference to religious belief or lack of religious belief. Designed to protect religious minorities that could be targeted in retaliation for the September 11 attacks, and prevent overly fervent preachers from advocating religious hatred or violence, many comedians took it to mean they couldn't tell offensive religious jokes. While this seemed unlikely on the face of it, closer inspection shows the new law covers the following:
- Use of words
- Publishing material
- Public performance of a play
- Distributing, showing or playing a recording
- Broadcasting or including a program in a cable program service
- Possession of racially inflammatory material
Government officials have said they didn't foresee prosecuting any comedians under the legislation.
Perhaps more seriously, concerned human rights organizations have protested some of the government's new abilities to freeze and seize funds potentially used in terrorist activities by foreign nationals or governments, which allows greater access to individual bank accounts. This section falls in line with the worldwide effort to cut off terrorist access to funding.
Of even more concern are the portions relating to the detention of terrorist suspects, or to use the vernacular of watchdogs, "internment." Once identified and certified as a terrorist, a suspect can be held without trial for an unspecified period of time. While every effort will be made to extradite individuals to countries in which they are wanted for crimes or deported to their home states, when "practical considerations" or a point of law relating to an international agreement -- namely, when their lives are in danger or they could face the death penalty -- prevent doing so, they can be held indefinitely. There is limited legal action a suspect would then be able to take.
Additionally, under the bill the government is granted greater powers of disclosure of internal information to overseas investigators or courts (and "courts" are pointedly defined as including tribunals of any sort), and detainment of international terrorists (defined as those who have committed an act of terrorism, are members of a terrorist group, or are associated with somebody who is a member).
Importantly, an international terrorist group is defined as one that is subject to control located outside the country and does not "include terrorism concerned only with the affairs of a part of the United Kingdom." This last distinction is key, as it speaks to the fact that Britain still has a terrorism problem in its own backyard in Northern Ireland, and the language excludes domestic terrorist organizations from coverage of the bill.
Shortly after its introduction to members, Northern Ireland's First Minister David Trimble of the Ulster Unionist Party protested the definition, as did other prominent Northern Irish politicians. This comes at a particularly sensitive time for the province (although that phrase could have been used at any time over the last few hundred years). The government has declared nearly all the loyalist paramilitary groups out of ceasefire, the Irish Republican Army is making moves to disarm, and violence on both sides continues. Rioting in Belfast has once again become commonplace, and in the last couple weeks, a known IRA operative was arrested in Slovakia for attempting to purchase plastic explosives. Additionally, four others are being held in Colombia on charges of training leftist rebels there.
Some of the less divisive measures include prohibitions against the handling or selling of chemical weapons and expanded police powers of search and seizure, already ordinary aspects of British life. Perhaps the most striking, yet uncontroversial, line reads: "A person who knowingly causes a nuclear weapon explosion is guilty of an offence."
This carries a sentence of imprisonment for life.
Much of the furor over the bill quietly died down, overshadowed by the ongoing story of the failure of the rail network operating company, and another brewing cricket controversy. But the Lords have killed the question of a speedy introduction of the bill into law. The House of Commons overwhelmingly passed it, despite a revolt of a sizable number of Labour "backbenchers" -- ordinary, non-Cabinet or ministerial parliamentarians -- who voted with the Liberal Democratic members against the law.
The House of Lords is a curious feature of British government. Along with the addition of the European Convention on Human Rights (as well as Home Rule for Scotland and Wales), Labour reform of the upper chamber reworked British government machinations. While a back-room deal unseated the vast majority of the hereditary peers, 92 still remain, with the balance of the body made up of government appointees, bishops from the Church of England and high court justices. With its blend of patronage and judicial influence, the House of Lords is undemocratic at best. But at the moment, it's playing the role of government spoiler.
While the upper chamber does not have the power to stop bills completely, it can delay and negotiate for amendment to anything it finds distasteful. At present, Blunkett has offered to put a five-year limit on the bill (meaning it would go out of law if not renewed by Parliament), and that time frame may shorten to two years. A vote on November 29 defeated the bill over concerns about limits on liberties and the definition of terrorists. It has been sent back to the House of Commons for reconsideration.
Since September 11, Blair and Britain have been at the forefront of coalition-building and international diplomatic efforts, encouraging governments worldwide to charge forward with anti-terrorism legislation. Fortunately in Britain, that's easier said than done.
