THE TRIALS OF BECOMING AN M.P.

ANY British subject 21 or over-- unless, among other things, he or she is a lunatic, felon, traitor, clergyman, civil servant, member of the House of Lords or one of the Royal Family--may stand for election to the House of Commons. A candidate need not live in the constituency he represents (for 14 years Winston Churchill represented a constituency in Scotland), need not know much about its people or problems, theoretically need not even appear there except for the formalities of campaign time. He does need a $420 deposit, ten supporters to sign a petition, and the patience to put up with a mixture of restrictions, frugality and party discipline that makes the average U.S. Congressman seem a money-gushing, stenographer-surrounded individualist by comparison.

Selecting. First a candidate for Parliament must get accepted. The national party (Conservative, Labor, Liberal) has to okay him, and he must also be "selected" by the local party's selection committee. Sometimes the national may impose a choice on a local committee, as Labor did last month when it made a Bevanite constituency in Liverpool accept that bulky anti-Bevanite, Mrs. Bessie Braddock (TIME, May 9). Locals can be balky. "Constituency-hunting is not an agreeable occupation," confessed the late Alfred Duff Cooper. "I sometimes thought that the members of the small executive committees, 'drest in a little brief authority,' took a certain pleasure in humiliating the candidates who presented themselves for approval." But one advantage of constituency-hunting is that the party can sometimes place its brightest lights (who may not be men with the most popular appeal) in safe constituencies, thus assuring their reelection.

Once formally "adopted" by the local party, a candidate is by law required to hire a campaign agent who, for a set fee of $210, assumes responsibility for running the campaign, lining up volunteer workers, and keeping a stern eye on every ha'penny.

Financing. Money is one of the candidate's major problems, because the law is so stringent about how much can be spent, and how. The 630 constituencies (five more than last time because of population changes) average about 50,000 registered voters. A candidate in an average rural constituency may spend only $2,450, an urban candidate about $2,150. The agent's fee comes out of this; so do all printing costs (a campaign address, or opening statement, must be printed, enveloped and sent to every voter), headquarters' rent and similar expenses. The candidate himself may spend an additional $280 for expenses--three or four weeks' worth of transportation, meals, hotel, laundry, etc. A precise accounting of every coin spent must be saved for the Returning Officer, and the law is rigidly specific about what the campaign funds may not be spent for:

P: Automobiles, gasoline or chauffeurs.

These must be donated free and candidates are restricted to one car for every 1,500 to 2,500 voters.

P:Payments for banners, musicians or music, choirs, phonograph records. Music may be used if donated and if no copyright fees are paid, but regulations are so complex that most campaign experts prefer musicless campaigns.

P:Treats for the boys at the pub. A candidate may drink Dutch or even accept drinks from constituents, but should he so much as suggest a drink or a cigar on him, he may be invalidated.

If he gets less than 12.5% of the total vote in his division, the candidate loses his $420 deposit.

Winning. And if he wins he may wonder why--except for the prestige and an urge to serve--he ever bothered to seek the seat. His pay is only $2,800 a year plus an expense allowance of $5.60 for each full day he sits in Commons. (U.S. Congressmen get $22,500 a year.) Out of his salary and allowance he must hire secretarial help, maintain himself in London, entertain constituents who "look in" at the House, and maintain at least a minimum of the front expected of a member of the Queen's Parliament. Of some 40 M.P.s who announced they would not seek re-election this time, several quit for financial reasons. "I just can't live on the salary," said Captain Robert Ryder, winner of the Victoria Cross for leading the naval forces in the raid on St. Nazaire in 1942. It is an open secret that Laborite M.P.s are occasionally helped along by allowances from trade unions, and Conservatives by appointments to the boards of sympathetic companies.

Once elected, an M.P. must submit to party discipline (the whip) in a way that any U.S. Congressman would consider intolerable. Occasionally a maverick like Churchill or Bevan has defied his party's leadership, has survived and even profited by doing so. But increasingly, to a degree that disturbs many Britons, the average M.P. must check his personal opinions at the door of Commons, voting on crucial matters as the party chieftains and their whips tell him. Otherwise, he may find someone else next time favored for Selection and accepted for Adoption.

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