ANOTHER VOICE
Miss Fookes's rotten Bill II: Lords, it stinketh
AUBERON WAUGH
This is one of the greatest revivals since Lazarus,' gloated Mr David 'Dave' Mellor, the Home Office junior minister, after he had successfully gerrymandered Miss Janet Fookes's Sexual Offences Bill through the Commons. Last week I re- joiced that two courageous men had arisen from the fawning, greasy ranks of Con- servative backbenchers to filibuster this disgusting measure out of existence. The incident demonstrated, as I thought, that the Conservative Party could still show some heroes when the need arose, as it once produced Winston Churchill. On this occasion I thought the House of Commons (whose Members are now demanding a huge increase in secretarial and research allowances on top of the £12,437 they already receive, on top of their £16,000 salary, on top of their free travel, postage, telephones . . .) had spent a useful after- noon in seeing off the hell-cat Fookes.
In his new novel, The Kingdom of the Wicked (Hutchinson £9.95), Anthony Burgess claims that Lazarus lived only a very short time after being raised from the dead. I am not sure what his authority is for this, as I can find no suggestion of it in St John's Gospel. The most interesting thing about the raising of Lazarus is that it marked the great turning point in Jesus's fortunes. Although it won Him a certain amount of instant popularity among the Jews, from that moment the High Priests really had it in for Him, and they did not let go until He had been crucified. This is rather how I feel about the New Conserva- tive Dave Mellor, who in the course of Friday's debate, answered objections that the police would use policewomen posing as tarts to.arrest punters: We deprecate and deplore the agents pro- vocateurs. We aim to ensure in the discus- sions we have with police forces up and down the country that police . . . orders reflect the extent of public concern that would arise if such police tactics were to be employed.
So goofy and half-witted were the Mem- bers present despite all their gorgeous, pouting secretaries and slim, liberated female research assistants from North America, that they let the slimy oaf get away with this. Anybody who has read the newspapers at all in the last two years would know not only that there is already a law in use against kerb-crawlers but also that police have been successfully pro- secuting under it and using policewomen disguised as tarts in a blaze of prurient publicity from the entire gutter press, which was too excited by any news about sex to express the slightest disapproval. Just when did 'we' — Mr Leon Brittan and the unspeakable Dave — start their depre- cating and deploring?
This particular raising of Lazarus is thought by the Government — which may mean Saatchi and Saatchi — to enjoy wide support in the country. I think they are wrong. If Saatchi and Saatchi really have such an influence as people say, they should use it to have both Leon Brittan and Dave Mellor quietly put down. Either it will be completely disregarded by the police, or it will be a serious nuisance, proving a charter for blackmailers, mad- women and androphobes. Last week I was so exhilarated to have found two wise and courageous men among all the sycophan- tic, nose-picking vulgarians in the Par- liamentary Conservative Party that I saw no need to explain the unpleasant conse- quences of Miss Fookes's half-witted mea- sure, if it had been allowed to succeed. Now these two heroes — Mr Parris and Mr Marlow — have been revealed as whey- faced poltroons and toadies like everybody else in Mrs Thatcher's accursed galere, I had better spell them out.
First, what is a kerb-crawler? By Miss Fookes's act it is anyone who solicits a woman for the purpose of prostitution from a motor-car, or having just got out of a motor-car. Penalty: £400, or £2,000 if the woman complains he has done it in a frightening manner. This measure does not therefore cover what is the main nuisance for respectable women walking in respect- able streets who find themselves followed very slowly by a menacing car whose occupant then makes a lewd suggestion to her. It covers only bona fide punters trying to pick up tarts in one or another of the half-dozen or so areas in the British Isles where tarts still defy the Street Offences Act by loitering in the streets. It protects respectable women walking alone in these particular areas, who, in nearly every case, can easily signify to the punter that he has made a mistake. No doubt there is a nuisance involved in having to point this out, but it is not an earth-shaking one. The punter then pushes off.
However, the measures now being taken to remove this very minor nuisance to a tiny minority of women will leave the field open for any madwoman, militant lesbian or man-hater — and, God knows, there are enough of them around — to complain to the police of any motorist anywhere in the country, who asks her the time of day, or whistles at her, claiming that she has been solicited for the purpose of prostitution. Perhaps the unfortunate man will get off, perhaps he won't, but in either case his name will be dragged through the courts.
Now let us look at the proposed law as it will affect the prostitute. She stands out- side all day, a large part of her time being taken up with such badinage as this: 'How much?' Twenty quid, dear, short time, with a rubber.' For you? You have got to be joking.' Fuck off, then.' You're dead right, I will.'
British prostitutes, I should explain, have the reputation for being not only the ugliest and greediest but also the laziest in the world. Few even pretend to enjoy the job, they make no secret of despising their customers and being in it only for money. Many will tend to sympathise with them, but that is just part of the English disease. If a job is worth doing at all, it is worth doing well, and these women are a dis- grace. The inevitable result of the Fookes Act will be that instead of saying 'fuck' these lazy women will say `Fookes': 'How much?' It depends what for, dear.' You know.' You mean straight intercourse, dear?' Yes."I have taken your car number and will report you to the police.' You have got to be joking.' Not unless you pay me £50."For nothing?' For not reporting you.' Soon half the unemployed female school-leavers from every Shirley Williams forcing centre in the land will be on the game, and totally innocent men (to the extent that any men are ever totally inno- cent) will find themselves facing blackmail demands. The Act could only work if every unsuccessful prosecution under it was fol- lowed by a prosecution of the complainant for wasting police time. But according to the Howard League Report, one in four allegations of rape investigated by the police is found to be malicious, dishonest or mad, and how many prosecutions do we see for that waste of police time?
Now this silly and hysterical measure goes to the Lords. Perhaps they will produce some heroes where the Commons so conspicuously failed. In retrospect one can see that the raising of Lazarus (whose sister, Mary — the foot-washer — is widely thought to have been a prostitute) was one of the worst mistakes Jesus ever made. The House of Lords should take note when they see the Bill, and listen to me when say, 'Lords, by this time it stinketh.'
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