Professor Kenneth Galbraith relates how J. J. Riardon, the popular
New York Democrat and President of the County Trust Company, went to his bank one Friday morning in 1929, checked the ac- counts, and, very sensibly, elected to shoot himself. This he did with a surprising deg- ree of efficiency and the mourners gathered quickly to hold a wake 'with one eye on the corpse and the other on the clock'. When the bank had safely closed at noon on Saturday the rest of the world was invited to join in the obsequies. It was a fine ex- ample of the art of political timing.
What we have witnessed in the continu- ing saga of the V & 0 affair is a prime
example of the dangers of bad political timing. But not of that alone. In the general gloom surrounding the efforts of the De- partment of Trade and Industries, which has now become the 'Marie Celeste' in the Skipper's fleet, backbenchers are wont to say that with a spot of judgment all would have been well. Such thoughts may be com- forting but they are also illusory. There is more to learn from this unfortunate business than the merits of political promptitude.
Two distinct strands run through the whole affair: the political actions of Mr Davies and his juniors, and those of the Civil Service. If no other good comes out of the sorry episode the wide terms of ref- erence of the tribunal of inquiry might provide a glimpse at the workings of that extraordinary bowler-hatted Mafia, the Civil Service. Such glimpses are extremely rare. By the time any man withinthe Service fully comprehends the manoeuvres he will be sufficiently high up the scale to guard its secrets with masonic fervour although there are splendidly irreverent exceptions such as Mr Geoffrey McDermott, the for- mer top Foreign Office official. One inter- esting peek into the working of the Civil Service mind, albeit an old one, was given in the recently published Memoirs of a Conservative—the papers of the late Lord Davidson. He proudly relates how he re- fused to allow Sir Max Aitken (later Lord Beaverbrook) to use a Whitehall telephone because it was improper—especially for contacting the City. This was obviously seen as a triumph of moral rectitude but in the same note we are blithely informed why the then Sir Max was anxious to use the telephone so quickly: 'One of the first things that happened when Bonar (Law) became Secretary of State for the Colonies was a visit from Max at the time when we were negotiating with Australia for the purchase of all their non- ferrous metal deposits . . . and one of the things that Max wanted to know was the terms on which this concession had been purchased so that—I supposed—he could make a few deals on the Stock Exchange with those Australian companies. which were going to supply us . . Those were certainly less squeamish days—but not as far as illegal use of the Civil Service telephone was concerned. Clearly we are dealing with an organisation motivated by reasons which are often in- comprehensible to ordinary mortals.
Whilst the political questions arising from the v & G fiasco are certain to be aired, what will be more difficult to pin- point is the Civil Service involvement. It will be argued, of course, that one should not attack civil servants who cannot defend themselves. It will also be argued that if the Civil Service is involved in improper disclosures at anything below Permanent Secretary level then it would be absurd for any minister to resign as did the then Sir Thomas Dugdale over Civil Service blun- ders in the Crichel Down affair of 1954. Yet if both stances are adopted we then have finally accepted that much of the political fighting at Westminster is akin to professional wrestling where the real battles are fought in private, with the public ex- cluded, and the choreographers preserving a modest but profitable anonymity. Should that prove the case then the political diffi- culties of Mr Davies and his wayward juniors could be of great service to democ- racy in exposing this anomaly, just as punch-drunk pugilists reveal the brutality of boxing.
One of the key questions puzzling former government ministers at Westminster is the fact that the Civil Service machine failed to alert the Prime Minister of the trouble in the DTI, or even of the police investiga- tions. To understand the remarkable nature of this omission one need only remember that there are twin routes to the PM run- ning through all government departments. There is the political route, and Mr Davies will have some explanations to make about the diversions that took place on that wind- ing and slippy road which ought to be so straight and narrow. There is, also, the civil service network which stretches right down to the permanent officials attached to political under-secretaries. One junior minister told recently of his - astonishment with the Civil Service. He believed that once in office he would have a kindly Jeeves looking after him, ever ready to smooth his path. In fact his private secretary proved to be a young man whose greatest anxiety was to ensure that the private secretary of the Cabinet Minister running the department knew exactly what the junior minister was up to. Since the young civil servant's career lay in the hands of the senior civil servants in the depart- ment, rather than with the junior minister, the direction of his loyalty was in little doubt.
It has also been suggested that the passage of information through the Civil Service network to the Prime Minister could have been stopped by the intervention of a poli- tical minister in the DTI. That assertion, however, runs contrary to the experience of previous ministers, even of Cabinet rank, where questions of departmental security were involved.
One such Cabinet Minister in the last government was faced with a minor breach of the Official Secrets Act and found a gentleman from the security services in his office to discuss the matter. The Minister asked if a prosecution should take place. The security chap having a suspicious turn of mind—probably a professional hazard —thought that he was trying to hush the matter up. 'If you do nothing, Sir,' he said curtly, 'the matter will have to go straight to the PM.' If Mr Heath was not informed of the police investigations then it was a departure from the normal practices of the Civil Service and one that requires thorough investigation.
And what of contacts in the City? One City MP remarked that he had been aware of the difficulties of the v & c for a long time before the departmental leak last November. It seems inconceivable that the Conservative party, let alone the Treasury, should lack men with a nose for political dangers in the City, of all places. The situation is comparable to a Labour leader being unaware of communist malpractices in a major trade union election.
The PM could prove his mettle by expos- ing the Civil Service to more critical scrutiny. One member of Mr Wilson's close personal staff, during his tenure of office, commented ruefully that a quite certain result of the whole affair was that the top brass in the Civil Service would close its ranks in self-protection. But, such is Mr Heath's anger at being kept in ignorance of the politically explosive actions in the DTI that, for once, the Whitehall Mafia system might not work.
Not long after he arrived in Number 10 Mr Heath started to encourage his ministers to fly to engagements round the country, using small local airfields. To his surprise he found that he personally had to sanction each flight. When the Cabinet Secretary, Sir Burke Trend, approached him with the first list he observed that this was 'a prece- dent'—of which no more heinous sin exists in the civil service handbook to demonology. 'Now, Sir Burke,' said the PM amiably, 'just think. Someone must have approached a British Prime Minister—per- haps in this very room—to complain of the precedent in using a horseless carriage. Now the Prime Minister has an excellent chance to show his strength. If the Civil Service is involved in the general bungling which has gone on in the DTI, why not sack a few? That would set a quite excellent precedent.
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