The press and the election

Peter Ackroyd

"Who is it in the press that calls on me?"

Julius Caesar, Act 1, Scene II.

Lord Hartwell. the proprietor of the Telegraph, will not be having an election party at the Savoy this year. The Sunday Times will still be holding theirs. This has not been an interesting campaign.

There have, of course, been harsh, bitter and divisive struggles

between extremists an d moderates, but luckily they have been confined to Fleet Street. The floating voter may also be the floating reader, and the national press has been working on the assumption that what you gain on the swings you may also gain in the sales. The Daily Mirror, in its best Never Say Die tradition, came out strongly for Labour from the beginning. This decision was pushed single-handedly by Sidney Jacobsen, Hugh Cudlipp's successor, on the understanding that this would be his last use of power. The Mirror can at least claim to be "The Paper That Doesn't Sit On The Fence," a privilege reserved for its main rival, the unruly Sun.

Of course, none of the Sun's political correspondents have been given peerages by Harold Wilson, but this would not account for banner headlines like: THE WILSON 'PACT' RIDDLE. It Just Does Not Exist, Says Heath. The Labour commitment obviously broke when the Sun broke with IPC. And its leaders this week will be taken from 'New Every Morning.'

The most interesting rivalry of the campaign has been that of the Mail and the Express. Those once ferociously Tory papers have now lain down with the Lambs. It was the Mail which accused the Tories of being "woolly" and of treating the electorate like "ig norant spectators," And it was the Mail last Friday morning which rushed headlong down the middle of the road: "It is not surprising that intelligent men and women are.increasingly inclined to turn towards the third party, led by Mr Thorpe." Perhaps not. But it is surprising when the Mail does it. But was it really the Daily Express, on that same day, Friday, February 22, which published an editorial like the first cuckoo of spring: "Onward Liberal soldiers, marching as to war." Mr Jeremy Thorpe hails his af

army of five million and h es soar that if the opinion polls f , ast the truth, perhaps 20 electors 1 100 will give their votes to the Liberal candidates.

This could be the election to change the political face of Britain.

The editorial was titled "X marks change," meaning among other things a change of circulation. Perhaps it is not just coincidence that these pieces were written as soon as the Liberals were seen to be increasing their strength. Five million voters may mean five million readers, for the right newspaper. And the Express is doing particularly badly at the moment. What would be more natural than for a paper to change its style for the sake of those millions of moderately incomed, moderately classed and moderately intelligent people who may one day form the new majority? In Fleet Street, the battle for sales is far more important than the battle of policies. And, with the drawing of Joe Coral in his ads looking exactly like Jeremy Thorpe, misfortune may make Liberals of them all.

The other dailies ran true to form. Lord Hartwell has been keeping a riding crop over his staff, and with a front page like last Tuesday's — with the main stories 'SORE THROAT HANDICAPS WILSON,' Jenkins Cool To Benn' and 'Food Firms Answer Unfair Labour' — he has very little to complain about. If only the journalists were just as reasonable about their pay. But there has been some dissension among the Telegraph's band of young leader-writers and even Colin Welch. the deputy editor, is thought to be unhappy about the paper's general direction. Sir Barry Hoyne remains his industrious self. In the Oval Office of the Times, a series of oil-paintings commemorates past editors of that newspaper. The present occupant of the chair has no painting; he has a black and white photograph of himself. That is. allthere is to be said about the Times's political stance. It doesn't just sit on the fence, it adds sticks and stones, too. Meanwhile Bernard Levin has been causing some incidental amusement with his recent calls to action; it is as if the restaurant violinist started to meddle with the menu.

The Guardian, and John Cole to boot, has been the most mealymouthed paper during the campaign; it has come up with priceless lines such as, "A Parliament in which neither party has outright power could be the best solution." It is almost as if it were taking Mr Briginshawe's warning to its social-democratic heart. After the announcement of the election, Mr Briginshawe, general secretary of the printers' union, sent a clarion-call around Fleet Street: "Britain's hour of destiny has struck." And now the bad news: "The Press in Britain is on trial. If it acts as an instrument of one-sided politics it is doomed . . . our members are entitled to help them help themselves." Which, in plain English, amounts to not printing what you don't like.

This was not a threat to be lightly taken, as the Sunday Telegraph discovered. Peregrine Worsthorne's piece in the issue of February 17, 'New Tyranny Of The Weak,' came close to being blacked by the union. It was only printed on the understanding that the union would be given the "right to reply." Even Mr Worsthorne is running scared, and refused to appear on a radio broadcast with Clive Jenkins for fear of exacerbating the situation..

As for our 'independent' Sunday press, 'fairness' seems to be an euphemism for having nothing to say. Even an ostrich can be 'independent' as long as it keeps its head in the sand. So it is that Harold Evans, in the Sunday Times, can accuse the Liberals of being in part "woolly," "inconsistent" and "fatuous" and then go on to say that "they offer a positive change and a glimpse of a different order of things." Who are the extremists now, wanting change for its own sake and at any price?

In The Observer, David Astor temporises with the challenge from his own staff, who publicly disagreed with their 'under the bed' scares, and have produced an editorial of monumental irrelevance. Nora Beloff has, of course, been the self-appointed watchdog of 'extremism' in the Labour Party for a longtime, and it came as no surprise that last Sunday's editorial should raise the old cry: "Labour's Left-wing . . . has a tighter grip on the party outside Parliament than ever before. Many of the major unions are now dominated by left-wing leaders." If this is the case, why does the same editorial plead neutrality in this election? It is STphecetator March 2, 1974 thought that the protests of the staff (including such notable malcontents as Neal Fischerson) were too strong to be completely ignored; so the leader flaps its wings, stings and dies. There were also rumours that the Observer was about to publish an exclusive account of enormous coal-deposits discovered in the South-East; It did not appear this Sunday. An election campaign is not complete, of course, without certain diarists keeping their ears to the carpet. Adam Raphael in the Guardian has been the brightest, but I wish that he had pursued Conservative money as doggedlY as he once pursued Conservative money. 1 hear, and he may have heard, that Central Office has 3 budget of E21 million pounds for this campaign, but the sources. af theits to oitneRyaprhemaeal.in confident G The 'Onlooker' diary in the Daily Telegraph thrasphhorwaesnodbtviouslY compiled b ypists. The money must have gone trI their heads. Meanwhile, the Ton,es has wheeled out its regulars for the duration. George Hutchinson is sounding more and more Barbara Cartland, and Louis Heren more and more like himself. He was sent to 'Middletown,' °I. Buckingham as it is better knoWn. to report on Mr Average — on the principle that if you stand in one place long enough, someone Is bound to come up and talk to you: But not necessarily read you. Tins has not been an interesting calm paign.