A Spectator's Notebook
Many are the explanations for the Liberal vote in the general election, but my favourite comes from a Tory lady in the North. "It was the BBC again," she explained. "They'd do anYthing to damage the Tories, so they made Sure that the Pallisers would be going out in 1,h.e period of a general election campaign. )11.1ce the series shows Liberals in power, and Is highly glamorous, it got people accustomed to the idea of them as important. What is brn,5)re they deliberately chose a leading actor diP Latham who looks like Jeremy Thorpe." Actually, you know, I checked, and he does.
Minority view C,anadian friends, I found, were utterly asOnshed, both at the behaviour of the Prime ,51inister in clinging miserably on at Downing
3treet, and at the British fear of a minority gOvernment. Their practice is that the party
With a majority of seats forms a government; rd their common experience is of minorities. 1.12,1957, for example, Mr Saint Laurent 'signed when his was the smaller of the two rnajor parties after a general election; and Mr Trudeau. of course, at the moment heads a Ininority government and shows every sign of enjoying the business. Lester Pearson, I am „reminded, governed Canada for a large "umber of years, without ever having a !1ajority in Parliament, and there was still no b'esulting weakness in his administration. It ,egins to look as though, in our present flap, Ee Could well learn something from the fr,cIrnmonwealth powers to whom, as we "ndlY believe, we taught the virtues of Parliamentary democracy.
Harris in Wonderland mr plath Louis Harris — of the firm that produced Ive most inaccurate of all the election polls — I thought, a little huffy with me on pay, during a BBC radio programme on inue election results. Peter Hill was doing an thterview with Harris and a gentleman from rival firm, National Opinion Polls, but I 1.1as allowed to get one question in. I invited ;-!th the pollsters to tell us what arguments geY would advance to newspaper proprietors assuming that there would be another r?neral election before the end of the year tv, Persuade them to continue running polls. at! Harris replied that he would advance no h gunients: not, he hastened to add, because iee didn't have any, but because he would tua\:e it to proprietors and editors themselves su Judge the newsworthiness of the polls. I tusPect, nonetheless, that he just was not able think of a single reason in defence of h„ection opinion polls. To be fair to Harris, r:cr ever, he repeated several times on several lo and TV programmes that he wanted to • def.Y in aid of Fiorella la Guardia's classic ence of a mistake. "If you must make a At'Istake," Harris said, "be sure it's a beaut. takcle.,b, Y God we've made a beaut of a misThe perfect Butler tel'a.s quite an election night at BBC je?ision centre where, along with Peter 111 Kins and Tony Howard, I formed a jour:ts Panel on call from ten pm on Thursday vv6"t until nine am on Friday morning, when Ale Were replaced by Alan Watkins, Andrew Ale Were and Ian Waller. We rather proudly
boasted, when Alistair Burnett, Robin Day and Bob MacKenzie went off duty for a breakfast break that we. had the stamina for two successive shifts (conveniently forgetting that the burden on Burnett and the others was, of course, very much greater than that on ourselves). But the real phenomenon was David Butler, whose eighth general election night coverage for the BBC this was. He went right through the whole stint, merely changing his clothes a couple of times. And when I staggered into the main transmission studio in the break between the night ride and the breakfast show to borrow a typewriter and start a radio script I found Butler there, fresh as a daisy and anxious to have a discussion about the new history of the Tory Party and one of its authors. Never let it be said again that academic life robs a man of stamina.
Silent on a peak There was a rather splendid confrontation on another television programme which British viewers did not, alas, see. Peregrine Worsthorne, Barbara Kelly, Joe Gormley and John Braine were hauled in by the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation fOr a high level discussion of the issues and personalities at about three am on Friday morning. After a more or less amicable series of exchanges Braine and Gormley fell to squabbling, from their respective Conservative and Socialist positions, about extremism in politics. Miss Kelly intervened, crying out that it was just such spectacles of grown men arguing like children that made her a Liberal. Without batting even one eyelid between them the two men turned on her and rent her, insisting that it was just such disputes as theirs that made up the essence of politics as it should be practised, and implying that women and Liberals shouldn't really have the vote. Perry Worsthorne, splendidly attired in red shirt and socks, sat unmoved throughout. I wonder what Canadian viewers made of it all.
Unhappy dreams I must say, continuing on the theme of television and the election, that the Prime Minister's general courage and behaviour contrasted badly with that of Harold Wilson in 1970. Then, you will recall, Wilson bravely faced a grilling from David Dimbleby immediately after it had become clear that he had lost the election, and, gruelling though the experience was, he answered searching questions manfully. Heath gave an interview early on during the count last week, and was reasonably courteous but, at that time, the trend of events was not altogether clear, so he could not be put through the wringer. Asked if he would have another statement to make later he said roundly that he would not and returned to London to, as he claimed, go to bed in Number Ten. For the rest of the time commentators were obliged to report that the Prime Minister was probably asleep in his official residence, but I doubt it, somehow.
Hawk on the wing I was somewhat surprised, in the days following that poll, that Lord Carrington appeared to have lost none of his influence with the Prime Minister. Amiable and gifted though he, in many ways, is, Lord Carrington's political judgement has scarcely been borne out by events. He was the principal hawk arguing for a general election last January, when he was defeated by the wiser counsels of Mr Whitelaw who was convinced then (as I believe he was still convinced at the beginning of February) that the Tories were bound to lose. Nothing daunted, Lord Carrington continued with his pressure until the Prime Minister eventually gave way. Throughout the campaign he was the picture of aristocratic langour and hauteur, as he Fat beside his leader on the platform at the daily Central Office press conferences. He did little campaigning and did not, it appears, find time to vet that party political broadcast which caused such a scandal. Nor did he, as in 1970, preside over the daily meetings of the Questions of Policy Committee (an ad hoc affair consisting of the better brains of the party not involved in the campaign, and this year chaired by Lord Windlesham). After all this he still had the cheek to look tired when he went to Number Ten on Friday, only to urge on the Prime Minister, with success, even more disastrous courses than before. Really, the man's endurance is remarkable.
Word game There will no doubt be all too many theses, articles and volumes following in the wake of this dismal election. But there will be no commentator who rises above the level of academic analysis and/or gossip; this country needs a Matthew Arnold at times like this, to remind the politicians that they cannot talk nonsense, and ungrammatical nonsense at that, forever. What, for example, are we to , make of this new catchword, 'moderation'? It is now a received truth that anything which is 'moderate' is also wise and good. 'Moderation' no longer means 'nothing too much', it means nothing too powerful, too consistent or too likely to frighten the mass of good-natured, sloppy-thinking people who have never had an idea in their lives and would bolt if they saw one. Moderation is not, of course, the only item in the new terminology of politics; 'fair', 'firm', and 'reasonable' have all entered the public mind. And if we cannot have an Arnold, can we at least have a Partridge. an Onions or even a dictionary?
Francis Hope As we go to press we learn with great regret of the death in the Paris air disaster of that young and distinguished journalist, Francis Hope, who wrote regularly for our respected contemporary, the New Statesman. Francis Hope did not follow the family footsteps into the business of Crittall-Hope Ltd but chose to pursue an academic and literary career, becoming a fellow of All Souls. He was thirty-five and will be deeply missed. PC ••
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