
Andy McSmith
Reading extracts from the diaries of the Soviet apparatachik Anatoly Chernyaev in the Spectator reminds me how long I have been on this earth. I remember Alec Kitson and Jenny Little, who feature so prominently in the diaries, from when I was a Labour Party officer in the mid 1980s. It was no secret back then that Kitson was very fond of booze, Jenny Little, and the Soviet Union - not necessarily in that order. It is also true the TGWU block vote was used to make unilateral nuclear disarmament Labour Party policy, and to ward off attempts to change that policy, throughout the 1980s, which was attributable partly, but not wholly, to communist influence inside the union.
Where the article veers from fact to wild conjecture is towards the end when it says:
Neil Kinnock, Tony Blair, Margaret Beckett, Harriet Harman, John Reid — to name just a few — were all T&G people who made their Labour party careers thanks to the union’s backing. And at that time, of course, T&G political backing was within the gift of Alec Kitson.
This implies that all those named may have been creatures of a machine controlled by the soviet sympathising Alec Kitson. This is untrue, and misinterprets the nature of the TGWU, which was not a monolith, but a chaotic organisation within which, for instance, regional secretaries ran their territories in their way without much reference to the centre. It was the regional TGWU secretaries who could help place wannabe Labour politicians into safe seats. Tony Blair received a certain amount of help on the road to Sedgefield from Joe Mills, the North East regional secretary. Mills had faults, but was certainly not a soviet fellow traveller. Neil Kinnock was beholden for different reasons to Moss Evans, who beat Alec Kitson in the election to succeed Jack Jones as head of the TGWU in 1978, but Kinnock never owed anything to Kitson. Nor did Harman or Beckett.
The one part of the UK where Kitson could influence political careers was Scotland, his home turf. He may have exerted some influence in aid of John Reid, who had been a communist, and secured a safe Scottish seat a few months before Kitson retired. Given that when Reid was Defence Secretary, he declared that the UK should retain nuclear weapons for as long as any other nation anywhere in the world held them, I am not sure what the gain was here for the USSR, or the cause of unilateral nuclear disarament.
How much does it matter that Richard Desmond, the mega rich owner of the Express newspapers, has lost a libel action that might have bankrupted the biographer, Tom Bower, had the verdict gone the other way?
Not much, to judge by the prominence the story has been given in some of today's press. The Daily Telegraph, whose ex-proprietor Conrad Black featured rather prominently in the case, thought it worth a relatively brief report on page 13. The Daily Mirror reported it on page 22. The Times gave it six paragraphs at the bottom of a page. The Daily Mail, which has three pages today on the internal affairs of the BBC, allotted Desmond four inches at the bottom of page 33, and The Sun did not mention it at all. In the Independent and the Guardian, by contrast, it story filled two pages.
The case revolved around an allegation that a proprietor had interfered in the editorial line of his newspapers for reasons that had nothing to do with good journalism. Perhaps we should conclude that some newspaper readers are interested in this particular aspect of a free society, and some are not. It is of no concern to anyone who buys a newspaper owned by Rupert Murdoch, for example.
The Daily Express, by the way, cannot be faulted for the amount of column space given to the trial. The information given is accurate, but somewhat selective. Yesterday, you had to read to the final sentence of a long report to learn that Richard Desmond had, in fact, lost the case - which is more than you can learn from their website.
It has taken Bernie Ecclestone two days to apologise for remarks he made praising Hitler as a man who could "get things done." That is probably quick by his standards. It probably was a struggle for him to sya the word 'sprry' at all, because this is a man accustomed to getting his way.
But the wording of the apology, while less offensive than the original, is still insensitive. He says that his remarks "upset a number of people in the Jewish community, Germany and elsewhere", as if Hitler is a sort of cultural taboo peculiar to certain national or religious groups.
I happen to know that his remarks profoundly upset a friend of my mother who, as it happens, is not Jewish, German, or elsewhere, but she is old enough to have married her sweetheart before he went to war. He never came back. Nor did others of her relatives. She spent part of Saturday trying to ring The Times on the telephone to tell them how angry she was that they had published Eccleston'es remarks, but could not get through.
What is disturbing about Ecclestone's mindset, apart from the offense he caused, is that is an example of the increasingly fashionable view that democracy is a broken down system that has failed the British public. It simply is not true. Anyone with a reasonable knowledge of history or of world affairs will see that the general rule is that the most proposerous and efficienlty governed societies are democracies, and our democracy is one of the better ones. Dictatorship is wasteful as well as repressive. While Mugabe "gets thinsg done", Zimbabweans starve. But the British are like people who are born rich who have no sense of the value of money: We have enjoyed the freedom to vote and to speak for so long that we have forgottne how precious they are.
"William Cash (Stone): Not only is the Government's failure even to carry through their manifesto promise on tax yet another example of how the Prime Minister and the Government are continuously losing authority and of how everything that he touches turns to dust, but it shows the range of their broken promises.... "
Nice to know that somebody with 'authority' is in there speaking up for the poor old taxpayer. This man is such a scourge of wasteful public spending that we should call him "Bill the Taxpayer". Or should that be "Taxpayers' Cash"?
In Old Bexley and Sidcup, the sitting MP Derek Conway was exposed last year for having dispensed thousands of pounds from his parliamentary allowance to members of his family. The Conservative Party has disowned him, but the voters of Old Bexley and Sidcup are stuck with him still.
Another case is Quentin Davies, who has not been implicated in scandal, but switched parties from Conservative to Labour, with the result that the voters of Grantham and Stamford have a Labour MP, who would never won the seat if he had stood on the Labour ticket.
Objectors to the idea of instant recall - such as Michael Howard, in today's Independent - argue that once you have given the voters this power, there is no telling how they will use it. MPs might be challenged for reasons that have nothing to do with sleaze. You can imagine that if this power had been in place during the Iraq war, there might have been a series of by elections in which individual MPs were forced to defend the stand they had taken on the war, for or against.
But why is that a bad thing? Many, many years ago, when the Labour Party opposed entry to the EU, a pro-EU MP named Dick Taverne resigned his seat, forcing a by-election on the narrow question of whether the voters of Lincoln were for or against British membership. He won. That did democracy no harm. A few by-elections fought over the Iraq war would have been a good barometer of public opinion. It is an insult to the voters that an MP can switch parties soon after a general election, in defiance of those who voted for him, or that someone like Conway, disgraced and shunned by his own party carries on for years as an MP. I think if sufficient numbers of people who are on the electoral register in one constituency call for a by election, it should happen, and the sitting MP should, of course, have the right to stand
Public relations people get more competitive by the day. No more the lazy days when they earned their keep by sending press releases through the post and waiting for the telephone to ring. The keenest now keep a constant eye on the news, looking out for events that can be used as a peg to promote a product.
A publicist working for Halliday Books, an Aylesbury based firm specialising in children's literature, is obviously one of the keenest. Or perhaps I should say 'was', because today the person is suspended. The news that David Cameron's son Ivan had died had not been out long before she spotted a marketing opportunity, and out went an email to everyone on her company's mailing list, saying this:
"We’ve all been touched by the tragic news of the death of David and Samantha Cameron’s ‘beautiful boy.
"Halliday Books publish The Lonely Tree, the best selling picture book for children about child bereavement. We’ve already sent a signed and dedicated copy to the Cameron’s this morning but would like to introduce you to this charming title in case you don’t already know it. It would be a perfect soft tie-in to this news story.
"It carries a cover quote from Stephen Fry which reads 'Utterly, completely and splendidly charming, originally illustrated and delightfully told.' Even Cherrie Blare bought a copy and sent the author a personal letter of praise after reading it.
"The author Nick Halliday is familiar with TV and Radio and will be happy to be interviewed about the book at any time in the studio or by other means."
Two and a half hours later, this message was followed by another, from Nicholas Halliday in person, apologising unreservedly, and saying that this distasteful publicity stunt had been carried out without reference to him or anyone else on staff.
Most of us remember the cautionary tale of Jo Moore, the Labour Party special adviser who saw the news bulletins on 11 September 2001 and did what she was trained to do, without thinking through the impact of what she was saying.
The public relations industry can now draw another lesson, that there are occasions when thinking to yourself that 'this is a good day to promote good days' is also crassly insensitive.
And, by the way, the wife of the former Prime Minister does not spell her name "Cherrie Blare"
* Since this blog appeared I have heard from Nicholas Halliday. He makes two points. The first is that in the original version of this blog, I identified the company employee whose name is on the first email publicising his book. Though the message was sent from her email address and identified her as its author, I am told that it was written and sent by another publicist in her name, without her knowledge.
Secondly, though Mr Halliday is profusely embarrassed and apologetic about this episode, he balks at the comparison with 'burying bad news' , which is something which you shouldn't do on any day, whereas he believes that encouraging children to read his book, especially if they have suffered recent bereavement is something you should do, though obviously not in the way it was done yesterday.
He might have added that this company have done all they could, as quickly as they could, to repair the original damage, whereas in Jo Moore's case, the government exacerbated the problem by refusing to admit that there was one.
Even so, the parallel is there. What you have in each case is someone involved in that line of work that includes PR and political lobbying, who applies such a one-track to the main task, whether it be to protect a minister or to sell a book, that she cannot see how insensitive her behaviour looks to everyone else. It is - I repeat - a cautionary tale that should be told to others in the profession.
There is an old joke which I think originated in East Germany during the reign of the appalling Walter Ulbricht. Two East Germans who knew each other well were having a chat, when one said: "What do you really think of Ulbricht?" The other went ashen, seized his friend by the arm, took him out of the room, out of the building, down a side alley to a remote spot where no one could see or hear, looked around to check that they were unobserved, and whispered: "Actually, I quite rate him."
I have been writing for tomorrow's Independent about Derek Conway, the Tory MP who got his come uppance for using his parliamentary allowance to pay thousands of pounds to his sons they were at university. I say this with shamed face, in a whisper that I hope no one hears, but I feel that the man has suffered enough.
In 1981, when Conway and I were a year or two younger, I was involved in a left wing bookshop in Newcastle, when a well dressed man came in, whom I recognised as a Conservative councillor. I knew he was up to no good, and asked why he was there. He wouldn't say. He bought something and hurried out. This was during the time when Toxteth, Moss Side and other places were being torn apart by riots. Councillor Conway, for it was he, returned to his office and put out a press statement claiming that there was a bookshop in town selling literature that incited people to riot. He had bought some wretched anarchist pamphlet, and since it was the only copy we had, those of us who ran the shop had no idea what it actually said. I spent the rest of the day fielding questions from journalists from a position of complete ignorance, trying to point that we obviously had not been very successful in our alleged incitement to riot, as Newcastle was almost the only major city in England that was trouble free. If anyone had told me on that day how Conway's career was going to end, I'd have laughed like a drain.
Conway was remarkable - unique, almost - in that he came from Gateshead, and was a Conservative. His uncle was Mayor of Gateshead. Conservative don't get to be Mayor of Gateshead. Conservatives don't get to be anything much in Gateshead. Derek Conway didn't go into politics to represent the people among whom he grew up, but to escape them.
He fought his way into middle class south of England society, and evidently did not want his sons to have to run the same obstacle course. He had been to a secondary modern school; he spent a fortune sending Henry and Freddie to public school. He went to Technical School; he diverted a chunk of his office allowance to make sure that his sons were not short of money as they went through university.
If he had started from the premise that what was good enough for him when he was young will do for Henry and Freddie, he would not have ruined his political career and brought disgrace on himself.
I don't for one minute suggest he should have been allowed to get away with an abuse of his position and of public money. So why do I feel a twinge of pity for the guy?
Hard to say.
I am pleased to see that Sir Paul Stephenson, the new head of the Metropolitan Police, does not want to be a celebrity but does want to be his own man. I hope that means he will avoid the current obsession with statistics and targets.
Last night, I met the policeman who is assigned to visit my son's school, a big London comprehensive with the social mix that implies. There are between 20 and 60 pupils, out of 1200, who are - shall we say - known to the police. That is not the same thing as knowing a policeman, but thanks to our PC's regular visits, they know him now.
The other day a lad of 15 approached him to say that he had been offered a motorbike for just £40. The boy asked whether it was against the law to buy a stolen bike. Second question: if he did buy it, did that mean he would have take out insurance?
As the constable said afterwards, you would think that there would think there would be someone in the boy's home background who could fill him in on these basics, but apparently not. Now he knows, and he says he is not going to buy the bike.
So what are the statistics one can attach to this tale? Arrests - none. Persons stopped and searched - none. Cautions issued - none. Paperwork completed - none. Targets met - nil. Youths steered away from a life of crime - one, possibly. Crimes averted - who knows?
None of this sort of work is quantifiable, but anyone with any sense can see its value. I hope Sir Paul can see it too.
The best I can say for Shriti Vadera and her 'green shoots' gaffe is that it was a throwaway comment in a television interview, whereas Norman Lamont's use of the same phrase was a centrepiece of a scripted speech to Conservative Annual conference. He meant it; she wishes she had not said it.
But there is always somebody nearby seeing green shoots. Our local butcher had a great Christmas, because customers who normally went off on somewhere for the holiday stayed home and ordered turkeys, and now he is so busy he can barely keep up, having just landed another contract to supply meat to a borstal. "It's great the number of kids they're locking up," he told me. "And they don't half eat well." Happy days.
I am shocked, SHOCKED, to read the assertion in The Times today that "there was no Master Bates" in the stories of Captain Pugwash.
Years ago, Pugwash's creator, John Ryan, successfully sued two newspaper who had fallen for the urban myth that his characters include a 'Seaman Staines' and a 'Roger the Cabin Boy'. There is no such seaman, and the cabin boy's name is Tom. Also, to be strictly accurate, there is no "Master Bates".
But among Pugwash's crew there is, undeniably, a Master Bate. If you don't believe me, watch this. I have lost count of the number of times have I sat with small children and held a straight face through the episode in which Pugwash utters the line "I certainly did, Master Bate." And in case Mr Ryan is tempted to sue, I still have the video.
His stories have a great deal of charm, though, and of course the double entendre was never meant.
As every shopper will have noticed, it is difficult to find a reliable beast tamer or manure dealer in the modern shopping parade. But if you are curious to know what was on sale in your local high street 100 years ago, or more, it is worth a dip into the Ancestry website, where a vast collection of old business directories are available on line from tomorrow (Wednesday).
There you can discover what other shops there were in Liverpool in 1909, when Frank Woolworth opened Britain’s first Woolworth’s at 25-25A Church Street, starting a century in British retailing history that ended today.
Woolworth’s was something of a novelty because it was a general store buying in stock from a range of suppliers, instead of the normal family affair offering one specialised service or commodity for clients who knew what they wanted to buy before they left the house. Impulse buying and retail therapy were not common in those days.
The only name from Church Street, Liverpool, that has outlasted Woolworth’s is also the only other general store trading in 1909, namely The Bon Marche, who listed themselves simply as ‘merchants’.
The other shops along that street were all specialists. They were The Liverpool China & Indian Tea Co, Trainor Campbell - fancy drapers, Beresford & Co - brush manufacturers, Salmon & Gluckstein – tobacconists, Bennett John - coal merchants, Naylor Harry – hosiers, and The Standard Guano Co – manure store.
Other shops in the vicinity included Thomas Bennett & Co., a major manufacturer of casks and barrels based in Liverpool city centre. There was also a well known tailor’s shop, C. Sutherland, in North John Street, where you could buy a three piece suit for “just three guineas”, and Riley, J. & Co., a popular toy shop, and Hampshire, Hobbs & Co Ltd, the well known fish curers.
In other parts of the country, names that are familiar to us were already in the directory, though not always in the context that we expect. John Cadbury, for instance, is listed as a Tea Dealer, though he also sold groceries in his ship and, by the way, chocolate. In the 1840s, there was a grocery shop in Knightsbridge run by a former miller named Charles Henry Harrod. A century later, in Southend High Street, in 1937, a man named Charles Kalms set up a photographic studio, whose frontage was so narrow that the name Kalms & Co would not fit on the sign, so he called the shop Dixons instead. His son Stanley is now President of the huge conglomerate that owns Dixons, Curries, and PC World.
Winding back another century, and the shops listed on Church Street, Liverpool, in the 1790 edition of Gores Directory, are all specialists. They are William Crosdale - corn merchants, Ann Cross – victualler, Mary Daniel – apothecary, Johnson & Malaby’s – liquor vault, Thomas Binns – currier & leather cutter, Thomas Stelfox – sadler, John Thornley – hatter, and Charles Wilson – roper.
Nearby, there was also J Clarkson – beast tamer, George Clayton – gunsmith, Thomas Eyres – dealer in exotic substances, Sarah Knowles – Bacon Driers, and the Institute for Recovering Drowned Persons, which offered half a guinea for each body of a drowned person fished out of the water.
Olivier Van Calster, Managing Director of Ancestry.co.uk said: “This collection of directories is unique in that they cover 250 years of UK’s social and commercial history and include many famous names that can still be found on the high street today.
“Because the collection spans most of the UK, just about everyone will be able to discover something of relevance - whether it's what their ancestors were doing hundreds of years ago or how their hometown has changed across the centuries.”
"To the economist embezzlement is the most interesting of crimes. Alone among the various forms of larceny it has a time parameter. Weeks, months, or years elapse between the commission of the crime and its discovery. ( Read more... )
It has been decreed that the Christmas number one shall be Hallelujah, performed by Alexandra Burke.
By the time you read this, at least one teenage member of our household will be among the hundreds of thousands who have bought it off iTunes.
My objection to this track – and sorry to be a Christmas party pooper – is that it is another example of someone with healthy lungs belting out a ballad, as if powerful emotions have to be expressed at maximum volume..
Hallelujah is a song about a middle aged man lamenting a sexual relationship gone wrong. Frustrated old blokes don’t belt out their woes, they growl. In the original (which is not very good) Leonard Cohen growled. The lyrics are not suited to being sung by a wholesome young woman.
Indeed, if you study the lines "She tied you to a kitchen chair/She broke your throne and she cut your hair…" it become perfectly obvious that there is only one person who is has been in the public eye this year who is qualified to perform this number..
Yes, the Christmas number one should be Hallelujah, sung by Max Mosley.
In The Independent, Mary Ewert defended his suicide and the decision to broadcast it on the grounds that it helps people comes to terms with the fact that all of us will have to die eventually. It is, she said, a “taboo”.
But others say that if assisted suicide became legal in Britain, vulnerable patients might fear a visit from their GP, not knowing whether he is going to administer medication, or try to persuade them to consent to a quick death. And some will agree with Cardinal Keith O'Brien, head of the Roman Catholic church in Scotland, who said: “Life is a gift from Almighty God…He can take that from us but we're not taking it from Him.”
What do you think? Please have your say on the assisted suiced debate in the comments section below...
You see some pretty silly behaviour in the House of Commons sometimes, but when Nick Clegg's attempt at a question was drowned in laughter at Prime Minister's Questions today, it really was primary school stuff.
He was struggling to make a serious point about tax credits, which he began by saying he had been visited by a single mother in his constituency. This of course is the politician who is misquoted as boasting that he has slept with 30 women. Actually, in his ill-fated GQ interview, Clegg brushed off a question about his sex life by saying that he had slept with "no more than 30" women - the kind of quip you might make in private conversation knowing that your listener understands that it is a jokey way of saying mind your own business.
Perhaps politicians just should not joke. When Clegg uttered the words 'single mother', cue uproarious laughter from all sides of the House of Commons, which Speaker Martin struggled to quell.
Grow up boys.
Last night there was an item on the BBC 10 o’clock news explaining why some British sports, such as rowing are to receive generous financial backing, between now and the 2012 London Olympics, while others including fencing and volleyball, will get nowt. Defending this decision, the head of UK Sport, Sue Campbell, said it was a matter of “focusing investment on those athletes and those sports who could meddle.”
At least I thought that was what she said, and momentarily I had a vision of Steve Redgrave and his fellow rowers interfering like anti-terrorist officers on the trail of a Home Office leaker. But she did not mean “meddle”, she meant “medal”. She was following this irritating new practice of using nouns as verbs. Such people should be deofficed until they knowledge how to grammar.
I am grateful to this blogger for helping with the impossible task of getting the size of the bailout of US banks into perspective. In real terms, the US could have bought Louisiana off Napoleon for 21 times the price they actually paid, and still pocketed some change. Or they could have fought the war in Vietnam nearly seven times, or sent nearly 20 manned missions to the moon.
Alternatively, for the same amount, assuming a parity of one dollar 51 cents to the pound, I calculate that you could buy The Independent at its current price of £1 every day excluding Sundays for just under 10 billion years.
Before he slips out of the news, here is my most vivid recollection of Sergeant in his days as a political journalist, when he was the only person who ever induced a group of Lobby journalists to give Tony Blair an ovation.
( Read more... )
Dover has been caught doing a 'Derek Conway', on a grander scale. Conway, it will be recalled, paid £260,000 to members of his immediate family, over six years. Dover paid £758,000 in nine years to a company that provided secretarial services, of which the directors were his wife, Kathleen, and daughter, Amanda. He is likely to have to pay £500,000 of it back. Pocketing half a million quid that does not belong to you is spectacularly greedy, to say the least.
I suspect that there is more of this in the European Parliament than has ever come to light, more than will ever be found in the House of Commons, for the simple reason that MPs know that they are under constant public scrutiny, and very few have the combination of brass nerve and greed that Conway displayed. In the European Parliament, there is more of a feeling that you can get away with it, because no one is watching.


