Notebook
An interesting competition seems to be emerging between the winners of libel actions and 'prematurely retiring' town hall officials as to which group has found the fastest way to a fortune in 1976. Last week a deeply embarrassed Camden Council announced that one of its senior officials was retiring for personal reasons' after only ten months in office. His 'golden handshake' was to consist of his usual pension, paid seven Years early, plus £2000 of the taxpayers' and ratepayers money paid as a lump sum, plus 1-113 to £20,000 in 'consultancy fees' for an unspecified amount of `advisory' work to be carried out in the future. Inquiries (which of course have nothing to do with this sPecific case) show that, thanks to union agreements and the Protection of Employment Act, local authorities are now comPletely over a barrel if they want to sack someone. Either they find that it is comPletely out of the question, or at best they can only put in a better man to do the job at the Price of having to pay ludicrous sums in compensation.
It is sad that Mr Angus Ogilvy has thought it necessary to resign from business life after being criticised in the Department of Trade report on Lonrho. And it is clear from his long statement in reply that he was deeply hurt by the strictures upon his conduct as a director of Lonrho. Mr Ogilvy's statement IS only persuasive in part—it displays an endearing sense of honour, but also a naivety unexpected in a business man of such apparent experience.
, Mr Ogilvy seems to imply that the DoT inspectors should have made some allowance for his connection with the royal family—'Nowhere in the report is my particularly difficult and delicate position even acknowledged'. But why should it be ? The real relevance of Mr Ogilvy's delicate position is to impose on him a higher duty of care in all his conduct; a duty which, the report concludes, in some of his activities at Lonrho he failed to discharge.
It is a pity that the Queen felt obliged to go to America to celebrate the treason of the founding fathers against her great-greatgreat-great-grandfather. And it was less than loyal of her to describe the rebellion, which George III rightly predicted would cause Much mischief', as a `great act in the cause of liberty'. With the best will in the world, even the Queen seemed to find difficulty in identifying any advantages for this country al the whole lamentable business. Without it, she said, 'we could never have transformed an empire into a commonwealth', by Which she meant that the experience of the
American rebellion taught us thereafter to submit instantly to any request for independence by any of our colonies. If that is all it did for us, there is not very much to crow about. Actually, the only people who have any right to celebrate the bicentenary are the French, who won the war for the Americans. They are being uncharacteristically selfeffacing about it.
Last Sunday the Sunday Times (quoting a book recently published in America) produced `remarkable revelations' on Jack Kennedy—that he had Addison's disease and was kept alive for fifteen years by drugs. But these facts were revealed a year ago by Alastair Forbes reviewing another book on Kennedy in one of the Sunday Times's sister publications, the Times Literary Supplement (13 June 1975). Something should be done about the liaison between departments in the Thomson empire.
Donald Neilson, convicted last week of the murder of Lesley Whittle, now faces a further series of charges in the same court. They are admittedly of the gravest character: three of murder; two of attempted murder (besides two alleging burglary).
But given the existing conviction, why was it thought necessary to bring the additional charges? The courts are already overburdened, and the new trial entails another heavy outlay of public funds. To what purpose ?
One pleasant tradition which has survived and indeed is flourishing is the Balliol Players' annual visit to the Middle Temple to present a modernised Aristophanes play. This year, they chose Peace, which in rewritten form starred Jack Tregeias Jones (a social climber), Denis Hermes (the best eyebrows in London) and Mrs Margaret Botcher (who blamed everything on the
government even if it was due to bad luck) accompanied by an imp, Edward, in a quest to rescue the sinking pound. In contrast to that other legacy of Ancient Greece, the Olympic Games, political satire has been preserved in a spirit of good-natured mockery that would still be recognisable— and comprehensible—to those Athenians who took such pleasure in ridicule of their politicians and welfare payments.
Last weekend's meeting in Oxford of the British-Irish Association once again provided a genial and informal debate between people from Great Britain, the Republic and various factions in Northern Ireland. The Secretary of State for Northern Ireland, Merlyn Rees, belied all the rumours that he is sick and tired of that taxing job. His remarks are not reportable but it can be said that his manner was very relaxed, often witty and that he appeared fully on top of all the insoluble problems facing the northern province. After his final address, Mr Rees was asked, tactfully, by a friend why he did not perform so brilliantly on the floor of the House of Commons. 'Why should I do so,' Mr Rees asked in reply, `before an audience of three ?' That is a dismal commentary on what has become of the Mother of Parliaments.
Tradition dies hard (if at all), even in a heatwave. In spite of the temperature and the more 'modern' arrangements promised under new management, the poor doorman at the Ritz was to be seen this week in full livery—heavy black tail coat and trousers, blue waistcoat, all of old-established 'house' design.
Hardly a day passes without Mr Callaghan improving on his traditionalist image. Replying to an insidious supplementary from Nigel Lawson on Tuesday, he quoted the Latin tag Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes, apologising for his lack of a classical education, and adding for good measure a translation with the time-honoured formula that it was for the benefit of Old Etonians. When, shortly afterwards, Hugh Fraser tried to obtain an emergency debate on the Entebbe affair, he adapted the quotation to Timeo Gallos non dona ferentes, which he translated as 'I fear the Welsh not bringing gifts'. It was hardly tactful of Fraser, because his appeal for a debate was addressed to the Speaker, a genuine Welshman. The application was refused.
Two events stood out in Bicentennial Week. In a small town in the mid-West, a 'timebox' was buried and is to be re-opened on 4 July 2176. One of the items included in the box is a bikini. It is not known if a message was also enclosed. The other event has that special American flavour: in San Francisco, a town where you are practically obliged to become homosexual in order to run for public office, the first 'gay' funeral parlour has now been opened. It is reported to be doing brisk trade.
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