If Papandreou feared a coup, perhaps Cameron should too

JUST DAYS before the beleaguered George Papandreou agreed to step down as prime minister of Greece, he dismissed the heads of all three of the armed services plus a host of lesser top brass. The official line is that the promotions and retirements were "overdue" and nothing at all to do with fears of a coup d'etat.

Papandreou had every reason to worry about the military. During the Greek Colonels' coup in April 1974 his grandfather Georgios (three times prime minister of Greece) was arrested by a group of soldiers with fixed bayonets. His father Andreas (later twice prime minister in the 80s and 90s) managed to escape onto the roof of their villa but gave himself up when soldiers put a gun to the head of his 14-year-old son.

Of course it couldn't happen here in the United Kingdom. We don't experience sudden unconstitutional changes of government. In the same way that we don't have corrupt politicians, politicised intelligence services or armies that lose wars. Such things are not part of our culture. Our parliamentary democracy is one of the stable glories of civilisation.

In reality, we do have very British coups. Men in suits rather than Sam Browne belts despatch prime ministers with great brutality when their ambitions are thwarted or their resentment boils over, without anything so vulgar as recourse to the electorate.

Two out of the last five incumbents have been ejected from Downing Street in this way – a statistically worse record than Henry VIII's wives. In 1990 and 2007, duly elected prime ministers, Margaret Thatcher and Tony Blair, were toppled by groups of jealous and chippy subordinates. No tanks or colonels in ridiculous dark glasses were at the scene. But no electors were anywhere in sight either.

One wonders if any ambitious army officers have noticed this. It is not necessary to face the country in an election if you want to be in charge.

Military planning for a coup in London would be straightforward. The template has not changed since being perfected in fly-blown, ex-colonies half a century ago. Declare a state of emergency on the grounds of national security. Take control of the parliament building, the palace and the state broadcasting headquarters. Arrest some undesirables in a show of force to appeal to the masses – Fred the Shred and a few of those unpleasant young men who burn poppies would go down well with the punters. And then schedule never-never elections for some time far in the future. A few hundred well-led soldiers would be enough.

Aspects of the UK's public life are in any case looking rather Greek. The political class is despised. The government has a dubious electoral mandate. The financial elite are widely regarded as crooks and looters. Taxes are extortionately high but not paid by the very rich. There isn't any money left. We seem unable to control the country's streets let alone its borders. The only difference is that the ·