A SPECTATOR ' S NOTEBOOK T HE British public has had so
much news to hearten it this week that it could hardly find time to discriminate between its
satisfactions. Yet half-consciously, half-subconsciously, it has always, I think, given the Egyptian news first place. And rightly. It was not merely that in eastern North Africa it was primarily a British show and in western North Africa primarily an American show, though that, no doubt, went for something. It was not merely that the Egyptian triumph was gained at heavy cost (for 13,000 casualties cannot be regarded lightly, inconsiderable though the figure is compared with the enemy's), and as the result of brilliant strategy and tactics, while in Morocco amazing organisation and complete surprise overwhelmed what half-hearted resistance there was. All that played its part, but first and foremost what we are experiencing now is relief at last from the anxieties and frustrations that have beset us regarding Libya since Wavell's first spectacular advance was followed by the hardly less spectacular retreat in 1940. First came the conviction, supported by many war-correspondents, that the campaign in Libya could only swing like a pendulum, which would never swing far enough either way to be decisive. Then followed the shock of this summer when, after the still unexplained disaster of June 13th, it swung so far eastward as nearly to hit Suez. Now the swing is the other way, and no one doubts that it will hit Tripoli, unless, as is likely enough, Tripoli is already in Allied hands before Montgomery can get there. At any rate, it will hit Benghazi, and that is quite good enough. The public is quite right to put Egypt first.
Mr. Churchill's tribute, at the Mansion House, to President Roosevelt as the author of the whole great enterprise in Morocco and Algiers lends force to one comment an American here has made to me. The Congressional elections took place last week and resulted in a moral defeat—but for half-a-dozen votes in the House an actual defeat—for the Democrats. The Republicans' chief accusation was that the war was not being waged with sufficient vigour. The voting was on November 3rd. If it had been on November 9th, the day after the North African news was published, the Democrats would have swept the field. If a day before November 3rd the President had felt able to give even a guarded hint of what was in prospect the decision in dozens of electoral areas might have been different. He knew that—and kept rigorously silent. He had, of course, no choice, but his attitude in such circumstances deserves some appreciative recognition. A rather different tribute is due to Mr. Churchill himself. If ever a man had justification for rounding on the critics who have been snapping and snarling at his heels for months about a Second Front it was the Prime Minister. If he had devoted to them a single biting sentence in bis speech on Wednesday the House of Commons would have greeted it with a tumult of cheers. Actually he spoke no such word. The Prime Minister is not a rancorous man.
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It must have frequently been observed that persons of a certain type, morally as white as driven snow, are possessed of an amiable weakness for putting strings of letters after their names. Since this is so harmless an aberration—if Mr. Pickwick liked being G.C.M.P.C., why not?—I should like to be of what use I can
by trying to indicate how a limited financial outlay in this field will go farthest. You can, to begin with, become a Fellow of the Zoological Society for quite a modest subscription and no questions asked—or very few. That gives you an F.Z.S. The Royal Geographical Society supplies an F.R.G.S.—that and an F.R.Hist.S., which is granted without any searching stipulations about historical knowledge, being particularly serviceable adornments (not without their pecuniary value) to persons engaged in instruction in com- mercial colleges and similar institutions. This, it may be repeated, matters little as long as the public generally is conscious of the distinction between the initials that mean something and initials that mean nothing. Otherwise values may get rather confused. There may seem to be little difference, for example, between E.R.S.
and F.C.S. In fact there is quite a lot. * * *
The question whether there is an increasing interest in religion in these searching days is hard to answer, but certain sidelights on it are instructive. What are called, in the terminology now fashion- able, Religious Brains Trusts, are arousing considerable interest in the many R.A.F. camps within compassable distance of Cambridge. So, indeed, they should, in view of the distinction of the team which an enterprising organiser has got together. When men like the Masters of Trinity and St. John's, General Sir Frederick Maurice (Principal of St. Mary's College, which is now domiciled at Cam- bridge) and Principal Elmslie, of Westminster College, are ready to form a platform and deal with such fundamental questions as " Why doesn't God stop this war," it is not surprising that they
gather, on occasion, audiences not far short of a thousand.
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Since Government Departments, and perhaps the War Office in particular, are pretty constantly accused of forgetting everything they ought to remember, it is worth putting on record the fact that the War Office, without talk or parade, is seeing to the training of a picked corps of administrators capable of dealing with the number- less problems that will crop up in connexion with the handling of civilian populations in any area which the British Army may be called on to occupy. This arrangement, which involves a good
deal of education in out-of-the-way languages, seems very sound. * * *
Sir Max Beerbohm, I learn, is to deliver the next Rede Lecture at Cambridge. This Lecture (founded by Sir Robert Rede, Justice of the Common Pleas in Henry VIII's reign) is delivered annually by a man of eminence in science or literature. Sir Max can be relied on for something out of the common in both his choice of
subject and his treatment of it. * * * * •
Who decided on the Spitfire? While Lord Castlereagh's filial loyalty in submitting that his father, Lord Londonderry, was largely responsible for introducing the fighter aeroplane which saved Britain can be appreciated, the claims of another Air Minister must not go by default because he happens to be away in Africa. Surely it-was Lord Swinton who adopted as the standard fighter the Spitfire that won the Battle of Britain. To that decision more than -any other the salvation of this island was due. JANus.
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