Notebook
News from Israel at times like this always gives an impression of a land exclusively Peopled by unshaven violinists rushing out between rocket attacks to gather oranges arid succour wounded Arab children. Can it really be like that? Israel is a country where nearly 25 per cent of the wage-earning PoPulation is on or below the official poverty line. The entire civil service is threatening to come out on strike and for the last three months a national seamen's strike has brought Israel's merchant fleet to a standstill. Next year's budget shows that the sum allocated to servicing the national debt has risen from 24 to 33 percent. In another two Years it can be expected to rise to over 50 Per cent, which will approach banana rePublic proportions; before long a moratorium on repayments will have to be Posed. When one remembers the increasLI number of Russian Jews who are choosmg not to live in the Promised Land and notes the high annual emigration, one begins to suspect that it is peace which truly threatens Israel, not war. To add insult to injury, last February's Zionist Congress declined to number migration to Israel rsanlong the duties of members of Zionist urganisations. Donations of money are 4eceptable instead. In the face of all this one canwith Mr Begin's need for a distracting adventure on the banks of the Litani River.
lleturning, after several years, to t,elevision-viewing gives one a splendid anpression of the advances which have been ade. Last weekend there was an oppor:unity to watch an elderly and obscure man 'all 120 feet off a high wire into the street. It as impossible to miss this treat since the a programmes repeated their scoop '.'iroughout the day. And recently Tonight tilansmitted a graphic study of the corpse of „sue journalist David Holden. It was the 'ertuary photograph, Mr Holden's eyes ere Open and there was an interesting picPre of the bullet wound in his back as well. 2flight showed these snaps three times in course of their investigation into the rriurder; they formed a sort of motif for the Ilint Nor did the producer spoil the surprise warning viewers of what he was going to udeApparently Tonight obtained Mrs Holt "la Permission by saying that the film was 0 be an obituary of her husband, which it a not. And they will probably try to jus'11Y it to others by saying that the photo?'rihaPhs were an invaluable part of their clUirY• In fact the pictures added nothing f' an to Tonight's rambling and unin cut2rrnative efforts to explain this mystery.
they could hardly send a film crew out to Cairo for days and then admit that they had completely failed to obtain any information which was not already available in London.
On the burning questions of the day, like whether or not Michael Marshall, the Bishop of Woolwich, should move into a commune, it is best to have all the facts before deciding. The bishop apparently does not like living on a Wates estate with a crowd of dentists and insurance brokers, so he has gone off in search of the real people. Repairs to the Lewisham vicarage where he intends to lead the simple life will cost his diocese £.35,000. It may be that the real people of Lewisham will hesitate before responding to the bishop's need to be more in touch with his parishioners. But they should know that this could be a more agreeable experience than idle contemplation of his photograph might lead one to suppose. This bishop takes very good care of himself, as a survey in a women's magazine revealed last year. By his bed the Rt. Rev. Marshall keeps three pectoral crosses and a sachet of gold, frankincense and myrrh. (But will he take this to the commune?) His bedside reading includes This Slimming Business. And in his bathroom cupboard there is Sculpt hair spray (for men), Equipage by Hermes, Pearl Drop tooth powder, musk cologne by Monsieur Houbigant, Mendocil aftershave skin conditioner, and five other male beauty aids. Keeping in close touch with this firm, slim, tasteful figure must be quite delicious. Even his appeal for fellow communards, 'people of varying colours and persuasions' evokes Liberty's pattern book. The Arts Council's director of literature, Charles Osborne, who was manoeuvred into an outraged protest (Letters 4 March) by Shiva Naipaul's description of Hull, has poked his head above the parapet again. This time he has been persuaded to answer a questionnaire in the Author, the house journal of the Society of Authors. Question 8 is, 'Why can't the Literature Department get a bigger share of the Arts Council's grant?' Osborne's reply starts: 'This frequently asked question is based on ignorance of the way the Arts Council works.' With this answer Osborne moves from the familiar realm of smug conceit to one of positive stupidity. The main reason why so little is understood about the workings of the Arts Council is the secretive habits of its functionaries. Osborne is a prime example. When The Times asked for permission to attend a meeting of the literature Panel it was told that this could not be authorised because if one paper was allowed in others would want to come too. Quite. Last November the newly appointed chairman of the Literature Panel, Melvyn Bragg, said in an interview in the New Review that the Arts Council should be 'open to scrutiny, should be thumped, should be looked at hard'. He also undertook to work out a new policy by Easter. When he got the job Mr Bragg was very sensitive to the suggestion that he had only been appointed because he was a television personality. His visible progress so far does nothing to refute that suggestion. It is time for the thumping (Bragg's word) to start.
The fact is that a government department, which is what the Arts Council boils down to, has an overwhelming fear of public scrutiny. Whether this stems from the defensive self-esteem of men whose power is increased by their monopoly of essential information, or whether it is due to a guilty conscience, is debatable. But there have just been two excellent examples of this common official reaction. Reassuring the House of Commons that nothing was amiss in the matter of Norman Scott's national insurance social security file, the minister responsible, David Ennals, said that when he had been approached by two journalists from the BBC he had 'sought a meeting with the director-general of the BBC to satisfy him that the allegations being made were without foundation. As a result he was able to satisfy himself that there was nothing further to pursue with my department.' I wonder whether the director-general remains satisfied with this old boy approach, now that he knows that he was told a lie by one of Mr Ennals's senior staff. And the same viewpoint is echoed by the new proprietor of the Daily Express, Victor 'I don't have ink in my veins' Matthews. 'God help any editor of mine who printed the Leyland slush-fund story,' he says. 'If I got that information I would go straight to the government.' There speaks the real Fleet St man.
Patrick Marnham
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