Slandered out of business

THE D NOTICE AFFAIR COLONEL L. G. LOHAN

'Nay, you had both felt his desperate deadly daunting dagger: there are your D's for you.' —William Wycherley 1640-1716.

Since 16 February this year, right up to this very, moment, my life has been a special little hell. I. have tried to get on with my difficult job; but circumstances have made this near- impossible. I have had to contend with White- hall esoterics while doing my best to satisfy the natural curiosity of the press (damn Mr Graham Bell and his telephone) and the desire of the television people to let the dog see the rabbit. Had it not been for the support of Katharine, my wife, at home and the help of Rosemary Marshall, my assistant, in the office, I could not have got by.

Not many will remember the atmosphere in which Chapman Pincher's now famous cable- vetting story was conceived. Fleet Street had just undergone an agony of self-analysis in making an appreciation about its survival; both Parliament and Fleet Street had the jitters about telephone-tapping and interference with mail; and the administration was 'having its worst press since coming to power.

On 14 February a young man called Lawson went to the Daily Mail with a story about cable- vetting; dissatisfied with his treatment there he went on the sixteenth to see Chapman Pincher at the Daily Express. Within minutes of hearing the story Pincher, true to form, telephoned me to ask if there were a D Notice implication. As I understood him at the time it was clear to me there was none; but I told him to get on to the Ministry of Defence who, he alleged, were col- lecting telegrams from the GPO for vetting. I asked him to come back to me afterwards for further guidance if needed. I did not know he had already telephoned the MOD who had denied the story. Myself, I had not had a squeak out of the MOD.

All was quiet until Friday morning. There I was at my home in the heart of Kent having decided to do some official business locally. But very early that morning of 17 February I got a telephone call from a colleague who works for the Foreign Office. I knew him well; I well knew what his work was. He told me that both the Daily Mail (the first I had heard of this bit of information) and the Daily Express had been making inquiries about the collection and vetting of cables and telegrams. Knowing the man and his job, he did not have to tell me very much over the open telephone.' For the first time I knew what was at stake. I offered to come up to London; but as the heat built up, I couldn't move from my telephone.

My colleague asked me if a holding operation was possible. I said I thought it was on the basis of two D Notices; one dated 27 April 1956; the other dated 30 October 1961. Immediately I consulted another colleague who is an expert on the legal aspects of security matters. It was then that I learned about the contents of Section 4 of the 1920 amendment to the Of Secrets Act. (All said and done, all the Daily Express did was to reveal that Section in readable language.)

I did hold both papers over the tempting `Sunday for Monday' period (usually Pincher's best incubation phase). The agreement was that

I should see Pincher in my office on Monday morning and Matthewman, managing editor of the Daily Mail. at three o'clock. I did not make any arrangements to see Derek Marks, editor of the Daily Express, because Pincher is Pincher and the Daily Express is not the Daily Mail.

It so happened that it became impossible for Pincher to come to my office. I had two other desperately urgent matters to attend to and Pincher was also busy. We telephoned several times but soon it was past noon and we both agreed we had better get down to business over lunch. At all costs I had to sound out Pincher before I saw the Daily Mail.

Let it be recorded that I did not enjoy the meal because I was worried; but let it also be recorded that we were tucked away in a far corner; above all, let it be recorded that the so-called 'alcoholic aura' consisted of one small dry martini, and one and a half glasses of Volnay from a carafe. The other liquid refresh- ment consisted of eleven cups of black coffee.

I had brought copies of the two D Notices with me. Pincher argued that cable-vetting must be treated exactly like telephone-tapping (not subject to D Notice). I could not lean too heavily on the notice about cyphers and com- munications; even so Pincher would have nothing to do with that notice either.

Since my father had long ago taught me to keep close to a kicking horse, I knew my Pincher (after all, he was my best customer for D Notice guidance). I could have argued semantics for hours and got nowhere. I there- fore put aside the D Notices and argued with him earnestly on more general terms but--and this is a big 'but' —I still argued in the spirit of the D Notices and had no standing other than that of advocate of the notices.

I thought I had succeeded in convincing Pincher and he told me he would represent my case to Marks. Let there be no mistake about this: if I had gone first to Derek Marks he would still have sent me to argue with Pincher. I know my Daily Express too.

After lunch I went as arranged to see Matthewman and Angus Macpherson at the Daily Mail office. They agreed to continue to hold and I agreed to let them know what evolved at the Daily Express. I telephoned Pincher at least twice before 6.30 p.m. But he said he had no decision from his editor. I telephoned again at 6.40 p.m. to remind him that my office telephone number changed after 6.30; stilt ht had no decision but was rattled because of my nagging. At 7 p.m. I went to see my chairman (I had warned his office much earlier that I would want to see him some time). I told my chairman that I was still holding the story; but was far from satisfied that I had not received a decision. At 7.25 p.m. I telephoned my office and was told there had been no message from Pincher. I then tele- phoned Pincher's office only to discover that he had already left for home.

Anyone who knows national newspapers would realise that by 7.30 p.m. it is not a ques- tion of what you put into a paper but what you pull out; but I must make it quite clear that I had Pincher's promise that 1 would be informed the moment an editorial decision had been made. I arranged for my office to remain open until 9 p.m. and for my wife to telephone the office if any message were sent to my home. My assistant knew what to do if the Daily Express gave an adverse decision.

I then decided to try to catch the 7.49 p.m. train. I had exactly seven minutes to make Victoria from the MOD. I just did it. Until I caught that train no one in London, other than my assistant, knew I was even going home. I had kept everyone concerned informed blow by blow (see Mr Brown's evidence at the bottom of page 123 of the report). At 9.40 p.m. on that Monday, 20 February, Pincher telephoned mo at home and said 'You've lost.'

At 7 p.m. on Tuesday, 27 June, I walked out of my office for the last time. I still feel the pain of the desperate deadly daunting dagger.

Any sane person will ask what the fuss was all about. Some may ask why I had to have my character blackened in the process, and have it done so that I could do nothing about it.

Here are my reasons for the biggest nonsense of recent times. Many of those involved and who beaver away in the shadowy recesses of Whitehall had not the remotest idea what D Notices were or how the procedure works. These selfsame people believe that the press is there to be manipulated.

No Department wanted to carry the can for cable-vetting—quite irrespective of security considerations—and they had a thundering great row about a responsibility that no one wanted to acknowledge.

Chapman Pincher is poison to Whitehall. Some idiot somewhere must have formulated the theory that I actually conspired with him so that the story could be written and the Government embarrassed. To support this stupid and untruthful theory my reputation had to be ruined. I have been slandered out of business by half-truth. untruth and innuendo.

In the matter of this slander not only have my hands been tied behind my back because statements in the House of Commons enjoy the protection of parliamentary privilege, but in addition I have been almost totally gagged by the Official Secrets Act.

During the whole of my time as Secretary of the Services Press and Broadcasting Committee there have been precisely three occasions when I have been told that there have been matters affecting my reputation. The first occurred in April 1964 when Pincher came out with an exclusive story on the night that Gordon Lonsdale was exchanged for Greville Wynne. Both the head of the Foreign Office news department and myself had a pretty good

grilling over this matter but in the end were completely exonerated. It is noteworthy that this episode took place during my probationary period of six months: I should have thought, therefore, that if there had been anything against me this would have been the time to have got rid of me.

The second occasion was in April 1965, when it had been decided to re-do my positive vetting. (As a joint administrative planner in the Ministry of Defence, of course I had already had to be positively vetted.) There had been some official complaints about the referees I had given being of too high a level. I was asked to come down to more soothing propor- tions and to give, if possible, a name of someone who knew me at home in Kent. This was diffi- cult, as I had only just moved to Charing, but I did find a local bank manager, whom I knew slightly, who said he would act as a referee.

Later that same month I had a flaming row with my then chairman, Sir Richard Way, the Permanent Secretary at the Ministry of Aviation (in the nicest possible way since we are on Christian name terms), about two accusations: one, that Chapman Pincher had given me a key to his flat in St James's; the other, that I was grossly over-spending on entertainment (it is worth recalling that this was just after the Bossard case and Whitehall was very sensitive about people living too lavishly). I denied both accusations emphatically and asked Sir Richard to tell me who his informants were. He said he could not.

The subject of the key to Chapman Pincher's flat was almost too ludicrous to discuss; but about the over-spending I offered to make available every morsel of information they might want about my own and my wife's financial affairs. I had nothing to hide.

I heard nothing more until March 1966 when Sir Richard Way sent me a copy of a Staff—In Confidence' letter in which it was said that although my positive vetting had not been tech- nically completed, in that it had not been carried to the fourth stage, there were no grounds on which my reliability could be questioned. The letter, however, did contain a phrase saying something about 'residual dissatisfaction.' I asked Sir Richard Way to explain this to me and on 5 April 1966 I had a nice little note from him saying that the officials concerned were not hostile and now content. So much for the third and last occasion on which the question of my reputation had been raised.

On 1 June 1965 I was transferred from the Ministry of Aviation to the Ministry of Defence for pay and administration. Apparently, accord- ing to Mr Wilson, my name was once again dragged up from some murky recess. No one has told me what it was about so I can throw no light on the subject.

There is no secret about the process of posi- tive vetting. It is clearly explained in Chapter 5 of the April 1962 Radcliffe Report, which says that the range of posts to which positive vetting applies should, among others, be 'those which involve regular and constant access to the most highly classified defence information or material.'

The sensitive areas with which I dealt were clearly defined in the D Notices and there was no need for me to know any particular govern- ment secret except in specific cases; and in respect I must say that my relationship with the officials concerned with technical and other security could not have been better. I certainly have no complaints on that score.

jWhy my positive re-vetting was not carried

to the fourth stage (which the Radcliffe Report says is 'a full investigation into the character and circumstances of the individual) I do not know and I hope that when Mr Heath sees the 'secret' papers Mr Wilson has promised to show him he will question specifically on this point. I trust, too, that the Prime Minister will tell Mr Heath honestly where the accusations against me came from.

I also hope that Mr Wilson will explain very carefully what he means by my 'over-close relationship' with Chapman Pincher and other journalists. I sincerely hope that he will name the other journalists, since I should hate to think that I have only one friend in Fleet Street.

Finally, how can a man be expected to work a system which, as Lord Radcliffe has said, 'depends on good will and little else' without maintaining a friendly attitude to journalists? Perhaps Mr Wilson has not read the last sentence in the last paragraph of the last page of the 1962 Radcliffe Report, which says that 'it is desirable too, when planning the future staffing of the Secretary's post, to remember that for this reason alone [maintaining public interest in defence matters] active assistance in scrutinising copy and helping to get it passed is one of the services that is expected of its occupant in return for observance of D Notices.' In other words my job was not that of censor but that of guide, philosopher and friend.

The Spectator Ltd., 1967