By Gavin St Pier
‘What does the Bailiff do?’ That is a question often asked by visitors to the islands who are interested in our systems of government.
The simple answer, often offered, might be along the lines of: ‘Well, the Bailiff is the island’s civic head or first citizen, the head of the judiciary and the head of the legislature.’
This might be interpreted by someone from the UK as: ‘So it’s like being Lord Mayor of the City of London, the Lord Chief Justice and the Speaker of the House of Commons, all in one then?’
The Bailiffs effectively also used to head what we now call ‘the executive branch’ of government. Within living memory, they chaired senior committees, sat on other committees and met political leaders from outside the islands. Separation of powers just wasn’t a thing back in the 13th century when the office evolved out of the medieval feudal soup.
That concept needed the thinking of Montesquieu in the 18th century. In the decades following the end of the Second World War, democratic representation and control of the islands’ governments has developed incrementally, to the point where the Chief Minister in each is indisputably the island’s most senior political representative.
In 2000, the European Court of Human Rights, in the Guernsey case of McGonnell, didn’t much like the appearance of a judge having presided over the parliamentary sitting that made the law on which the judge was then opining. This judgment arguably had more impact in the UK where the role of the Lord Chancellor and that of the Law Lords sitting in the House of Lords evolved to recognise the concept of separation of the judicial, legislative and executive more clearly.
The Bailiff’s role as the presiding officer of their island’s assembly is one that has been more frequently questioned and tested in Jersey than in Guernsey. Jersey’s Clothier Review, Carswell Review and the Independent Jersey Care Inquiry all had something to say on the subject.
Ironically, it is Guernsey rather than Jersey that has experience of someone other than the Bailiff presiding, albeit in the other islands of the Bailiwick. Alderney directly elects the president of the States of Alderney, a post created in 1949. Meanwhile, in Sark, one of the constitutional reforms agreed in the early 2000s, under considerable external pressure, resulted in its parliament, Chief Pleas, having its own president, separated from the role of the Seneschal as judge.
Last year, three of Guernsey’s longest-serving Deputies, its acting presiding officers, ended up presiding over a meeting of the assembly. It was not the car crash that many expected. As a proof of concept, or a window into the future, it was an interesting experiment.
In Guernsey, the primacy of Jurats and members of the Royal Court over the elected chamber is deeply embedded and further reinforced by the fact that the assembly does not have its own location. This means that it is required to physically meet in Royal Court and, if push comes to shove, no one is in doubt that the court’s requirements for time and space will trump those of the assembly.
Oddly, the King’s recent Coronation inadvertently tossed a stone into the quiet constitutional pond, the ripples of which may yet have further to run. The islands, like the Isle of Man and the UK’s Overseas Territories, such as Gibraltar, had two tickets available for showtime in the abbey.
His Majesty’s other dominions were represented by their governors and senior political leaders. Exceptionally, the Channel Islands chose to send their Bailiffs to accompany the Lieutenant-Governors. While this might have been the acceptable protocol last time this all happened in 1953, with no personal animosity to either Bailiff, in 2023, the Chief Ministers should have taken that much-sought-after second seat.
Notwithstanding the longevity and status of the role of Bailiff, the absence of the islands’ most senior political leaders in keeping with other jurisdictions, unfortunately diminished the status of the Channel Islands. This may be a difficult message for those who view this through a simple historical lens that a crown role of nine centuries standing self-evidently trumps a very recently constructed political office.
That view ignores the perceptions of the majority, particularly outside the islands, who are not bestowed with that knowledge and simply took away that Guernsey and Jersey were not of sufficient importance to have their elected leaders present.
The intangible value for our political leadership being able to ‘brush by’ their counterparts, should not be underestimated, underlined by the fact that the Isle of Man’s Chief Minister, Alf Cannan, managed to spend 20 minutes chatting to Labour leader Sir Kier Starmer while in one of the holding areas that protocol teams manage at these events.
There is no doubt whatsoever that either of our Bailiffs would have been equally at ease chatting to the person who is odds-on favourite to be the UK’s next Prime Minister – and they may even have done so – but given their apolitical roles, any such conversations bring no political advantage to the islands.
It is conceivable that this event could help trigger a further re-examination of the role of the Bailiff in Jersey’s Assembly. And if Jersey were to resolve to follow the recommendations of all those prior reviews and elect an independent speaker, without doubt, it would force consideration of the issue in Guernsey.
As the servants of their respective assemblies in their role as presiding officer, the Bailiffs will of course tread carefully in their public comments, but they would not welcome the removal of this part of the day job.
At one level, it could be as simple as enjoying the variety it brings to their suite of responsibilities. More significantly, it might be feared that the loss of a highly public part to the role would diminish the office although it would simplify the answer to that question, ‘what does the Bailiff do?’
-
Gavin St Pier is a Guernsey politician. He previously served as the president of the island’s Policy and Resources Committee.
