Mon. Dec. 2, 2024 at 4:23 AM

The Editor, Amandala

Dear Editor,

In the course of my reading I came across the following historical incident and felt I should share it, as it contains very valuable lessons:

The only assassination of a British prime minister occurred in 1812. The murderer had spent six years being tortured in Russian prisons, although he was neither a spy, nor a terrorist, nor had committed any crime. What was his motive for assassinating the prime minister? His motive was almost unbelievable. But let us begin with a betrayal.

In 1812, Prime Minister Spencer Perceval walked into Parliament like any other day. Minutes later, he lay dead on the floor—shot through the heart. His killer did not flee. He calmly sat down and said: “I am the person who shot the Prime Minister. My name is John Bellingham.”

Bellingham was not a revolutionary. He was a merchant with a grudge over paperwork, and a businessman who had been trading with Russia. But in 1804, disaster struck—he was falsely imprisoned in Russia; his travel papers had been confiscated; and his business destroyed. The British government’s response? “Not our problem!” Thus, Bellingham spent six very brutal years in Russian prisons. He was tortured regularly and almost died from the terrible conditions within his prisons. He had also been marched through the streets in chains.

When he finally escaped to England in 1809, he wanted only one thing: compensation. To obtain compensation, for three years Bellingham followed protocol. He filed endless petitions, wrote to every government office and begged for hearings. To all this, each response was: “Fill out more forms”.

Then in April 1812, a civil servant made a fatal mistake. The civil servant told him: “You’re free to take whatever measures you think proper.” And, Bellingham took this literally. He bought two pistols, had a special coat pocket sewn, and waited in Parliament. At 5:15 p.m., Perceval entered. Bellingham stood, walked directly to him, and fired point-blank into his chest. The Prime Minister’s last words were: “I am murdered!” The killer sat down and waited for his arrest.

The trial stunned England. Bellingham’s defense was simple: “I tried every legal channel. The government left me no choice.” But the incredible aspect of this was that many people sympathized with him. A French observer wrote: “You taught ministers they should do justice when asked.” But sympathy could not save Bellingham. After a one-day trial, Bellingham was hanged. His last words were chilling: “I feel no hate for Mr. Perceval. But he led the government that refused me justice.”

The aftermath changed Britain forever. This included the government’s reformed complaint systems and new protections for citizens’ rights. And, no British prime minister has been assassinated since 1812. Sometimes, the deadliest threats are not from external enemies, but from ordinary people who have been pushed too far. The final irony? Parliament later investigated Bellingham’s claims. And, he was right, as he had been owed compensation. But it was too late for both the merchant and the prime minister he had killed for presiding over a government that had denied him justice.

However, this historical incident is not merely about paperwork or bureaucracy gone wrong, and a resulting assassination. It is actually about what happens when systems meant to serve people, instead become their prison. It is also about when efficiency trumps humanity; and when following protocol becomes more important than doing what is right.

A Contribution,
Thérèse Belisle-Nweke