After years of relative silence which some MPs might have quietly enjoyed, Big Ben has officially resumed its bongs, reminding the nation that tradition is not dead but merely delayed by extensive scaffolding and an eye-watering budget. The Elizabeth Tower, which houses the famed clock and has been under renovation since 2017, is finally bonging back to life, much like an old rocker returning for a reunion tour nobody asked for but everyone secretly missed.
The House of Commons erupted into a polite smattering of applause mixed with stoic nods, as the first chimes rang out across Westminster. The ceremony was peppered with remarks from officials who praised the restoration project for its impressive craftsmanship, although perhaps refrained from mentioning the nearly £80 million price tag, presumably to avoid spontaneous wincing from taxpayers already nursing their energy bills and grocery receipts like war wounds.
“The Elizabeth Tower stands not only as a testament to our history but also to British engineering and patience,”
declared House of Commons Speaker Sir Lindsay Hoyle, his tone regal but possibly masking the slight fatigue of someone who had to sit through seven years of repair committee meetings.
Big Ben’s chimes, which had been silenced to protect workers from ringing-induced hearing loss and to avoid clock-related injuries bizarre enough to become government case studies, now return timed to the second, thanks to state-of-the-art mechanism updates. In other words, it is now louder, prouder and, crucially, less likely to maim anyone.
As lawmakers continue to argue passionately beneath this freshly restored symbol of British punctuality, one might find it poetic that the clock is now ticking louder than ever — audibly reminding all parties that time, unlike policies, waits for no backbencher.
Big Ben is back and it is making a racket louder than your uncle at Christmas lunch politics.