It's a rare occasion when I'm not writing my column on a Sunday night, and an even rarer occasion when I'm not flipping through the channels to find something worthy enough to distract me from writing said column. For the past few weeks, I've seriously found myself watching some fascinating programming courtesy of C-SPAN.
Suddenly I am transported from my cramped Hillsides room to the archaic pews of Parliament in London, England. There, from 9 to 9:30 p.m. each Sunday night, the members of the House of Commons play Twenty Questions with Prime Minister Tony Blair. And it is the most riveting example of political entertainment on television since the latest "American President" rerun.
The C-SPAN broadcast is a re-airing of the previous Wednesday's "Prime Minister's Questions"-which you can incidentally watch live at 7 a.m. on C-SPAN2-and is quite a spectacle to behold. For half an hour, Tony Blair sits in the center of the House of Commons at the mercy of the entire chamber and answers each and every question thrown at him.
Like most other Tufts students, I pretend to have a working knowledge of how the United States government operates. From reading The Washington Post or The New York Times online, I hope that I'd be able to explain the general system of checks and balances to a na??ve outsider. But to be perfectly honest, I've probably learned the majority of what I know about Congress and the White House from watching reruns of "The West Wing."
On the flip side, I don't pretend to know anything about how the British parliamentary system works. I vaguely comprehend that Prime Minister Blair governs with a different construct of "power" than does President Bush in the U.S. government. But beyond that, I'm totally in the dark. I hereby provide an open invitation to any political science majors to give me a crash course in the operating procedures of the British government.
Blissful ignorance aside, the actual telecast is truly fun to watch.
The Prime Minister sits on a pew on one side of the room with a large book on his lap, facing the members of the opposition party in the pews across from him. When asked a question, he pops up like a jack-in-the-box, ready and prepared to respond. Sometimes he refers to the tome, as if it were something out of a medieval library. After answering, he promptly sits down, only to rise again thirty seconds later to answer the next question.
This ludicrous manner of rising and sitting appears even more absurd when the entire House does so as well. Each time Blair finishes his response, dozens of members of the House stand up like prairie dogs, and when not called upon, they sit back down. I'd love to believe that the process is well-organized and structured, but either way, it's a joy to watch this organized chaos.
One of the other fascinating things about those crazy Brits is their penchant for cheering or sneering at the Prime Minister while he speaks. Blair cannot argue about housing prices or the war in Iraq without someone cheering "Here, here!" or "No, no!" If the racket becomes too loud, the Speaker - an old codger reminiscent of the stereotypical Jeeves the Butler - kindly asks the room in his eloquent accent, "ohdeh, ohdeh ... it's well an unworthy thing to shoot acroos the chamber, it's unworthy..."
In between outbursts from the crowd, the Prime Minister occasionally has the opportunity to define his party's position on specific subjects, something he does magnificently. It doesn't matter what the subject is - whether it be health care, the Iraqi war, crime prevention, education issues, or even laws about child care (which they adorably refer to as "childminding"), Blair will have an answer about it.
Sometimes, when Blair says something the Conservative opposition party finds objectionable, the majority leader of the party stands up and rebuts the Prime Minister's statement. But he does this from no more than three feet away! Here are the two biggest political figures in the country, debating with each other like Talmudic scholars, standing close enough to shake hands - or exchange blows.
I realize I sound like the na??ve American here, but I honestly enjoy watching these British politicians carry on, and wonder why we can't have something like this here. Pundits always complain that the youth of America are apathetic about politics. Maybe if they had something like the "Prime Minister's Questions," they could be excited about politics.
What if Nancy Pelosi or Harry Reid could go toe to toe with President Bush on a weekly basis, discussing their thoughts on social security or healthcare reform? What if our executive branch was held accountable for its actions more than once every four years? Can't issues be discussed in non-election years?
Imagine if President Bush, the man who runs an administration with tighter lips than Marcel Marceau, went before Congress and said "bring it on" to each and every representative. Imagine, hard as it may be, having a chief executive who would take it upon himself to be knowledgeable about the issues facing each and every citizen of our nation.
I realize it's not feasible, but wouldn't that make great television? And more importantly, wouldn't that make for an even greater country?
Brian Wolly is a senior majoring in history. He can be reached via e-mail at brian.wolly@tufts.edu.
