STUDENTS of parliamentary tactics and future historians have been

given a rich new seam to explore by last night's extraordinary events in

the Commons. Labour's amendment, obliging the Government to ratify the

Maastricht Treaty with the inclusion of the Social Chapter, was defeated

only on the Speaker's vote, cast by precedent in favour of the status

quo, and with the help of the Ulster Unionists. The Government's

substantive motion was then defeated with the assistance of 23 Tory

rebels. This meant that the House had failed to arrive at the

''resolution'' on the question of the Social Chapter required by the

Act, which received the Royal Assent earlier in the week. Mr Major's

apparently impressive speech to the 1922 Committee, and his promises of

a legislative programme in the next session of a rigour to make the

right wing salivate, did not quite do the trick, and now we face the

prospect of a General Election if he loses today.

To last night's votes his response was immediately to give notice that

he would table a confidence motion linked to the Government's policy on

the Social Chapter, or rather the appropriate protocol (a distinction to

which the Government appeared last night to be attaching some

significance). Mr Smith immediately responded by promising an amendment

which would tie the question of confidence directly to the inclusion of

the chapter in ratification. In football parlance, this was a cup final

that ended in a no-scoring draw, and the replay takes place today. The

betting at Westminster seemed to be on the Government to win at the

second time of asking, but so volatile was the atmosphere that nothing

could be taken for granted.

To continue with the footballing metaphor: how will the penalty

shootout end if there is yet another draw or, worse, a defeat for the

Government? The rebels have made their price clear. It is the same as it

has been from the start -- a referendum. This option has been so

emphatically rejected by Mr Major that he could concede it as easily as

the chapter itself -- that is, not at all. The fall of the Government is

a possibility because the Cabinet has decided that should the motion be

lost today then a General Election will be held next month. This

disposes of any possibility that the Queen might invite another leading

Conservative to form a Government.

The threat of a General Election is heavy artillery, and Mr Major has

now rolled it out to cow the rebels. When he rose in the Chamber he

appeared more or less to plead for the assistance of the Opposition in

the light of its general commitment to the treaty. But politics is a

harder game than that, as he knows, and Mr Smith must play it to the

end. The rebels must therefore be dealt with; they must be given the

responsibility of provoking an election which might well end in the

Conservatives' loss of office (though it is a commentary on Labour's

weakness that this by no means can be taken for granted). But the

peculiar piquancy of Mr Major's threat is that if Labour did return to

power it would ratify the treaty with the chapter. In logic that should

be something of an incentive to the rebels to support the Government

today, but of course their real concern is with the whole treaty and the

chapter is the dagger they hope to drive through its heart. That was why

the debate itself was a prolonged charade -- ostensibly about the

chapter but in reality about the treaty and the survival of the

Government. At once we saw our parliamentary chamber at its best -- and

at its worst. The language of the debate was robust but it was not

violent and there was an undercurrent of humour. Perhaps on such a night

it was unreasonable to expect a cerebral approach. This was a night of

high parliamentary drama where strange bedfellows found common cause. Mr

Major's jacket is now on a very shoogly nail but we think it will stay,

precariously, in place.