Speaker’s Statement

Ed Davey Excerpts

Tuesday 14th October 2025 Commons Chamber

[Mr Speaker]

Before we start the statements, I want to say a few words about our former colleague Lord Campbell of Pittenweem—better known to us as Ming—who died during the conference recess.

Ming was universally liked and respected across the House, regardless of people’s party allegiance. Unflappable, kind, principled, incredibly active and held in great esteem by all parties, Ming achieved success as an Olympian, as a lawyer and as a formidable politician in both Houses of Parliament, as well as leadership of the Liberal Democrats. He was one of Westminster’s most authoritative voices on foreign affairs, particularly in articulating his party’s opposition to the invasion of Iraq in 2003.

On a personal level, Ming was a loyal friend to me and to my family. He served with my father on the Trade and Industry Committee, where they conducted many inquiries, most notably into the Iraq supergun affair. The two often vented their frustration about the thwarting of their efforts to get Ministers, officials or even fellow Members to appear before their Committee, but despite that, they pursued the inquiry fearlessly in order to get to the truth. Some things have never changed.

I know that Ming was hit especially hard by the death of his wife Elspeth; they were, of course, married for more than 50 years. Courage, wisdom and integrity were Ming’s hallmarks. We have lost a dear colleague and, for many of us, a wonderful friend. Our thoughts are with Ming’s family, his friends, and his allies across the political parties.

[Ed Davey (Kingston and Surbiton) (LD)]

On a point of order, Mr Speaker. May I first thank you for that generous tribute to our dear friend Ming?

I want to let the House into a secret about Ming Campbell: he was obsessed with sport—as one might expect from someone who was the captain of the Scottish men’s team at the Commonwealth games. I remember him talking about how he had been captivated by the 1948 London Olympics at the age of seven, listening to it on the radio with his mother, and how he had decided back then that he wanted to run at a future Olympic games. It is a dream of so many young boys and girls, but Ming—thanks to his determination, drive and work ethic—actually made it happen: he represented our country at the Tokyo games in 1964.

For a man once known as “the Flying Scotsman”, who set a new British 100-metre record at 10.2 seconds and who was probably the fastest person ever elected to this House, Ming was never one to brag about his sporting accomplishments. In fact, he was such a gentleman and so averse to boastfulness that it could be hard to get him to talk about them at all. I remember when Wayne Rooney broke a metatarsal in his foot ahead of the 2006 World cup. Ming had told us a story about how he had suffered an injury before the 1964 Olympic games and how hard he had worked to overcome it. We were all begging him to go on the radio, tell that story and encourage Wayne Rooney—a rare chance for the Liberal Democrat leader to break into the biggest sport story of the day—but Ming would not do it. I have to admit that it was frustrating at the time, but it was also a mark of why he was so respected and admired. That level of modesty is rare in anyone, especially in a politician, but those of us who knew Ming knew that it was simply the kind of man that he was.

It says a lot about Ming’s many and varied accomplishments that his extraordinary sporting achievements—being Britain’s fastest man and representing his country at the Olympics—will not be what he is most remembered for. Nor will he be most remembered for his law career, though he excelled at that too. He was even offered the chance to become a judge on Scotland’s High Court in 1996, but he turned it down because by then, as he put it, politics had got into his blood. And so, what Ming will be most remembered for is his enormous contribution to British politics—a parliamentary career spanning five decades, including 28 years representing North East Fife.

I got to know Ming early during his first Parliament, when I was the party’s economics adviser based in our Whips Office. Even then, he already had so much gravitas. He was so charming, so thoughtful and so respected. Ming was among those few MPs who were genuinely grandees from the first day they were elected, but his calmness, reasonableness and intense decency masked a radical politician: a man who never forgot his roots after growing up in a Glasgow tenement, and who was driven by a deep commitment to social justice. He said it was his role and the role of the Liberal Democrats to “rattle the cage” of British politics, and he did—especially, as you said, Mr Speaker, when it came to foreign affairs and defence, on which he led for our party for over 18 years, including, of course, in the lead-up to and after the Iraq war.

I remember how difficult a decision it was for us to oppose that war. It felt like we were not just going against the Government, but taking on the full might of the British state and the United States too. The way Ming tackled it, with his typically steady, forensic and lawyerly approach, gave us both the confidence and resolve to speak up strongly for what we believed. He made our position firmly rooted in respect for international law. At a time when the world was in turmoil following the horrific terrorist attacks of 11 September, Ming provided principled leadership with his trademark combination of morality, courage and wisdom, and he continued to do so, whether as leader of our party, as a respected member of the Intelligence and Security Committee and of the Foreign Affairs Committee, or in the other place.

I benefited greatly from Ming’s advice and guidance over more than 30 years, and turned to him often about foreign affairs in my own time as leader. I will miss his wise counsel, as I know many of us will. But, more than that, he was an incredibly warm and caring friend—a colleague with such generosity and humour. He called his late wife Elspeth his rock, and she was always by his side—mostly with a cigarette. They were such good fun and such great company.

It was once said of Ming that he

“runs the risk of giving politicians a good name.”

Well, he certainly did that. His passing is a moment for us to consider how we are all viewed as politicians and what changes we could make, both individually and collectively, to further the cause of good, decent, hopeful politics—something that Ming embodied entirely.

Ming Campbell was a dedicated public servant, a tireless champion for Fife, St Andrews and the United Kingdom, and a true Liberal giant. I know all of us in the Liberal Democrat family and across this House will miss him terribly.

[The Prime Minister (Keir Starmer)]

Further to that point of order, Mr Speaker. Everyone in this House knows what an honour it is to represent our country, but for most of us that appreciation comes from the rather sedentary position on these Benches, not from the international running track where Lord Campbell of Pittenweem first represented Great Britain at the Olympic games in Tokyo in 1964. He remained quick on his feet as a barrister, before becoming an MP, where, I am told, he made the most of his talents by sprinting door to door while canvassing. Ultimately, of course, he became a respected voice on foreign and defence affairs, becoming leader of the Liberal Democrats. This was despite many overtures from one of my predecessors, his old Glasgow University friend John Smith, to join the Labour party as a young man. No, Ming, as many came to know him, was determined and he knew his own mind.

Ming Campbell was authoritative on the subjects that he was passionate about, so it was no wonder that he had the respect and admiration of colleagues across the House, who recognised his wisdom and unfailing kindness over 28 years of service as a Member of this Parliament. Today we remember his commitment to Scotland and in particular of course to Fife—championing its industries from fishing to, in his case, flying—as well as becoming chancellor of the University of St Andrews, where he spoke of his joy at meeting students and young people full of hope for the future—a future he had done so much to shape. It was a full life, well lived alongside Elspeth, his beloved wife of more than 50 years. We are all enriched by his sense of duty and commitment to this country. He stands in the finest traditions of this House, so it is a privilege, on behalf of the Labour Benches, to pay tribute to the “Flying Scotsman”. May he rest in peace.