By John Boothman
THE tears of joy and of sadness have been shed – congratulations and commiserations dispensed – posters taken down. And the whole thing has been exhaustively reported, analysed and regurgitated. Is there anything more, therefore, to be said about the ground-breaking 2022 election, without scraping the bottom of the lexicographer’s barrel, or clutching at metaphorical straws?
Well, let’s start by taking a few steps back. The elimination of Senators, redrawing of constituencies and addition of new seats in St Helier were the brainchild of Privileges and Procedures, and particularly of committee chair Russell Labey. This hotchpotch was intended to rebalance the ratio of representatives to residents as between town and country, encourage more and better candidates to stand, ease the passage to political parties and increase voter turnout.
How did that work out?
Patchily would be a generous assessment. As was entirely predictable (and predicted), the creation of new seats in town was a gift to Reform Jersey, which hoovered up all five of those in St Helier Central on a derisory turnout of 29%. A great result for RJ, but not one of the famous five breached the 1,000-vote threshold that was achieved by winners elsewhere; fifth-placed Geoff Southern scoring a paltry 734. The same was true in St Helier South where three more seats were added to the RJ tally on modest vote counts. But as one brave (or indiscreet) St Helier candidate told me before polling day, in a moment of unusual candour, ‘I don’t care how few people bother to vote, so long as those that do vote for me’.
Overall, RJ’s 12% of votes cast (up from 10% in 2018) delivered 20% of the seats. So much for proportionality.
Turnout across the whole Island was 42% compared to 43% in 2018 – hardly a ringing endorsement of Mr Labey’s botched electoral reforms. Poetic justice, then, that he was among those defenestrated, scoring just 591 votes in St Helier South.
Outright election victor was once again the JAP. You’ve never heard of it? How strange, since there’s a better than even chance that you are a member, or at least a supporter. The Jersey Apathy Party counts those on the electoral roll who failed to make an appearance – 58% this time round – as its very own, and this year its new activist wing NOTA (voting for ‘none of the above’) added further support. (Though the idea of a party grounded in lethargy having anything so energetic as an activist section does admittedly sound oxymoronic.)
Joking aside, voters delivered an emphatic rejection of the John Le Fondré regime, most of whose members lost their seats (including the Chief Minister himself).
With the exception of RJ, those who put their faith in political parties were similarly disappointed. There is a simple reason for that. At the core of any successful party must be a distinctive ideology that can readily be defined and communicated to potential supporters, as well as a slate of credible candidates. Only RJ (which models its thinking on that of the UK Labour Party) passed that test. The Jersey Liberal Conservatives, Progress and Alliance all claimed to occupy space on the centre-right, but their mish-mash of policies was largely indistinguishable. Just as anticipated, those confused by these lookalike groupings mostly voted as they had always done – for the independent candidates who, as individuals, most appealed to them.
The upshot is that there has been a wholesale clear-out of the old guard, with only a handful of ministers either clinging on or returning after a spell in the real world. And the intake is, on balance, more diverse and more progressive than those who are gone. This is both exciting and dangerous. Even as the Covid crisis recedes, the Island faces daunting challenges – economic, social, financial and demographic – and tough decisions. For the new Chief Minister and her team, especially those lacking political experience, it’s going to be a hard slog once the honeymoon’s over.
The extent of the turnover certainly came as a surprise. On the eve of the election, local bookmaker Chris Benest had Steve Pallet as 5/1 on favourite in St Brelade (‘certain to top the poll’). He finished a distant fifth. The poll-topper there was Dr Helen Miles, ranked as a 20/1 outsider. In St Clement, Sir Mark Boleat was joint favourite at 11/10 on, but finished in last place; winner Alex Curtis scored twice as many votes as Sir Mark, despite a starting price of 40/1. And this pattern recurred across the Island. Mr Benest was not alone among political observers in underestimating the electorate’s hunger for change.
Does the new intake presage a new, more left-wing, direction for Jersey politics? It certainly seems so, but perhaps history offers a corrective. Following the indecisive UK general election of December 1923, which culminated in the first (minority) Labour government, there was widespread anxiety about the impact of socialism on such tried and tested British institutions as the City of London, the armed forces and even marriage. Humourist Hilaire Belloc in response coined these perceptive lines:
‘The accursed power which stands on Privilege / (And goes with Women, and Champagne and Bridge) / Broke – and Democracy resumed her reign / (Which goes with Bridge, and Women and Champagne).’
Of course, the world has changed a lot in 100 years – bridge is less common than it was then, while nowadays we mostly consider women a necessity rather than a luxury – but the ‘don’t panic’ message still resonates. As in the UK then, perhaps here too it really was time for a changing of the guard, even if the policy re-boot turns out to be less radical, and less immediate, than some might wish and others might fear.
To all those who won seats last week, whether left, right or centre, my very best wishes as you tackle the trials that undoubtedly lie ahead.
