Guernsey Press

Spreading the words

DIFFERENT countries call their politicians by different titles.

Published
(24201600)

In Guernsey we call our parliamentarians ‘deputies’ or, to give them their full title, ‘people’s deputies’. Some people have occasionally suggested a change to this title because, apparently, the term deputy is not well understood outside of these islands, which can lead to confusion.

It has even been suggested that many beyond our shores think they are speaking to a substitute. ‘Why did you send a deputy? I want to talk to the person in charge.’

Internationally this has to be complete nonsense because the term deputy, or some close variation thereof, is one of the most common terms for parliamentarians around the world. From Ireland to Russia and from China to South America, very many countries call their legislators deputies. Not to mention just about the whole of the francophone world.

That it is not to say that there isn’t a problem with the title, but this is principally in the UK and I blame their media for it. Every branch of the fifth estate, from tabloids to the BBC, will refer to Irish MPs or Russian MPs. Presumably because they think that makes it easier for their British readers/listeners/watchers to understand than giving them their proper title.

Maybe we need to find an alternative title for those few deputies who do need to operate regularly in the UK on our behalf. One which they can use instead of deputy when they are over there. One which even the Brits can comprehend.

Or should we just stick by our guns and if our British cousins wonder why politicians from Guernsey have a title which is very different to theirs, we can simply reply, ‘because we are different, with a different history, a different culture and we are not, repeat not,

part of the UK’.

Talking about political names, maybe we should consider changing a few more? For instance, the term ‘Crown Dependency’ is a very new creation and not entirely helpful. The expression was coined for two reasons. Firstly, to distinguish us from Britis h Overseas Territories – which is useful. Secondly, to have a snappier term than simply talking about ‘Guernsey, Jersey and the Isle of Man’.

I suppose brevity is always handy but personally I don’t think the term ‘dependency’, applied to territories which are almost completely autonomous in their domestic affairs, is particularly apt. Of course our head of state is the British monarch, but hopefully that doesn’t make us particularly dependent on anyone. It’s true we are ‘dependent’ when it comes to defence and international representation but in all else we are very proud of our independence.

Perhaps the political name which is most out of date is that of our legislative assembly itself. The term ‘States of Deliberation’ was once highly apt. It referred to the various ‘estates’ which populated it. There was the Anglican estate, represented by the island’s rectors, who all had seats, as of right, in the States. Then there was the Royal Court, with jurats similarly enjoying reserved seats in the assembly. Eventually we even had (heaven forfend) democratically elected representatives thrown into the mix. Now, thankfully, only the latter remain, so is the title ‘States’ still valid?

The short answer is no, but tradition should not be thrown away lightly so, personally, I would still like to keep the old title. Although I suppose changing it would at least put an end to constant references to ‘the worst States ever’. Again, the problem is that while we in Guernsey all know what the States are (or should that be is?), when our government needs to interact with external bodies no one else has a clue.

‘I represent the States of Guernsey.’

‘Do you, old boy, and what exactly might that be?’

I suppose that, just like the name deputy, the answer might be to have an alternative name for use in the UK or internationally. Such dualism is not ideal but we really can’t hamstring our external representatives when they go about their work.

We already allow the president of the Policy and Resources Committee to use the absurd title ‘chief minister’ externally for exactly this reason. How on earth can a government with no ministers have a chief minister? It clearly can’t. On the other hand, if it conveys the message to others that this is our ‘top politician’, I suppose it can be seen as mission accomplished.

Of course, Jersey’s erstwhile Council of Ministers has just changed its name to the Government of Jersey. Guernsey has a completely different system of government so we can’t simply mirror that move. We have no ministers and certainly we cannot have P&R calling itself the ‘Government of Guernsey’. However, that title could validly be used externally as a term for the entire States of Deliberation.

Whereas telling an outsider ‘I represent the States of Guernsey’ may induce much head-scratching, the alternative of ‘I represent the Government of Guernsey’ would very easily be understood by all.

Finally, before closing, I want to change subject.

I have been castigated by a leading proponent of a runway extension for apparently exaggerating the amount of land that would be required for such a project to proceed. Of course, if I have in any way got my facts wrong, then I am keen to apologise and correct myself, but I do want to seek other expert advice first, particularly about the technical issues surrounding ‘runway end safety areas’.

That said, the key point here is not exactly where the new RESA would end, but rather what we would achieve by carrying out such works. We all want cheaper flights but simply extending our runway isn’t a sure-fire way of achieving this. In fact, a longer runway coupled with an open skies policy could even damage our connectivity in the long run.

That wouldn’t be true if we had a bigger critical mass.

Of course there are alternative ways to guarantee cheaper flights, but it would involve direct subsidies from the States. I am not closed-minded over that approach, but it would clearly mean those who never leave the island (including some of the least well-off) subsidising those who do.

A tricky dilemma.