This is the first in a monthly series on the constitution.
There was a long run up to the decision to prorogue Parliament in August 2019. Baroness May of Maidenhead reports in her memoirs that I suggested it to her when she was Prime Minister, but that she did not want to do it.
Once Boris Johnson became Prime Minister, I certainly suggested it again and discussed it with Dominic Cummings and the Attorney General, Geoffrey Cox. It did not occur to anyone that this use of prerogative power, that is, the power of the Queen exercised on the advice of the Prime Minister, was justiciable, let alone unlawful. It was thought that even the increasingly aggressive judicial activism of the Supreme Court under Baroness Hale would not presume to intrude in such a matter.
Once the decision was taken by the Prime Minister and formal advice given to the Queen, the prorogation had to be approved by the Privy Council under the Prorogation Act of 1867. This was why I needed to travel to Balmoral, as I held the mainly honorific post of Lord President of the Council. I went with the Chief Whip, Mark Spencer, and the Lord Privy Seal and Leader of the House of Lords, Baroness Evans of Bowes Park.
It was all meant to be very secret, but that inevitably did not last. The three of us flew from Heathrow to Aberdeen, and as we were waiting to board the flight met a former Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod who, being an intelligent man, realised immediately why three Privy Counsellors were going to Aberdeen. However, the cover had been more fully blown by a leak to the media, so by the time we landed our task was already being reported.
As we arrived, all three of our telephones rang, as a remote Cabinet meeting was being held to approve the decision. It was slightly hard to concentrate on the details while getting off the plane and being stopped for selfies. Naturally, the people who stopped me were unaware that the phone call I was on was with the Prime Minister. Fortunately, I knew the plan already, so was prepared.
At Aberdeen, we were met by a charabanc sent from Balmoral, and had an amusing journey accompanied by the Queen’s hairdresser. It was a role he had filled since 1997, and he regaled us with anecdotes, not least that the first time he had cut the Queen’s hair he had been so nervous that he had hardly dared breathe on her, so turned away to take each breath. As we neared Balmoral, we saw a satellite TV van take the high road to the front entrance while we took the low road to the back entrance. This was not, however, an efficacious attempt at discretion, as the story was already out.
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