Notebook
Hopes rise, hopes fade, hopes rise. Thus the Press has day by day reported the efforts to achieve a settlement at Times Newspapers. At the time of writing, we are in a 'Hopes fade' situation. How can we help? Not, apparently, by naming the guilty men. Every time that Mr Reg Brady and Mr Barry Fitzpatrick receive publicity in the Press, they seem to become more obdurate. it Is as if their notoriety gives them a thrill Which can only be sustained by continued intransigence. But guilty they are. These two gentlemen— the leaders of two separate branches of NATSOPA at Times Newspapers—are now virtually the only obstacles to the re-appearance of The Times and the Sunday Times, as Christopher Booker Pointed out the other week. They are costing the group some £2 million a month, they are threatening some 8,000 jobs, and — despite the opposition of management and national trade union bosses alike — they appear to be competing w ith each other to be the last to settle, It is a curious form of glory they seek, A year ago, they were saying that they had not been given enough time to conclude the required agreements with the Times managements:. How much more time do they want? Despite all this, it is still assumed —though I am not clear why — that The limes and Sunday Times will be out again within a few weeks:Andlt he'papers are hopeful of selling at least as many copies as they did before they vanished. Private opinion polls indicate that at least 85 per cent of former readers will come back immediately, While thousands of new readers— wondering What was so terrific about the two papers to cause such a fuss over their disappearance — may also be expected to give them a try.
The Italians' reputation for being cruel or at least indifferent to animals is on the whole deserved. Whether they are netting exhausted migratory birds, keeping halfstarved dogs permanently on chains, or simply shooting everything that moves, they are strikingly insensitive to animal welfare. Italians tend to be interested in animals only if they are edible. When! worked in Rome, We kept a small Tibetan goat in the garden Which we would occasionally take for walks In the park. In England, it would have been drooled over for its beauty. In Rome, it was admired for its nutritional qualities. For all that, the Italian authorities do not appear to have behaved particularly badly over the notorious planeload of South African wild life. There was, it now seems clear, no proper evidence that these animals were free of disease. It is unlikely that any European country would have admitted them. Perhaps Naples zoo — their intended destination — could have shown more interest, but I have managed to find out nothing about Naples zoo except that in 1944, when General Mark Clark arrived in Naples with his liberating army, he was banqueted — in the absence of any other appropriate nourishment — with manatee from its aquarium, and thought he was eating veal. But indifference to the fate of the zebras and antelopes in Rome was reflected in the Italian press which gave the affair very little attention compared with newpapers here. Human deaths have unfortunately been stealing the headlines.
The precise opposite of the Italian position on wild life is that of Mr John Aspinall, the friend of Sir James Goldsmith, who has his own private zoo in the south of England. I was recently sent a copy of a new book called Animals' Rights (Centaur Press 16.50) which is a record of a symposium on the subject held a couple of years ago in Cambridge. Among a number of interesting and learned contributions is one by Mr Aspinall, who outstrips everybody else in his enthusiasm. He tells the story of a visit to Calcutte during which he witnessed thousands of starving Indians being fed with just enough nutrient to keep them alive by some well-meaning young representatives of OXFAM and the World Health Organisation. According to his account, he told these officials that they were wasting their time and should let the Indians die. They were shocked and began to lecture him about the sanctity of human life. 'The sanctity of human life is the most dangerous sophistry every propagated by philosophy and it is all too well rooted, because if it means anything, it means the insanctity•of species that are not human,' replied Aspinall. Warming to his theme, he said he would be very happy to sec three and a half billion people 'wiped from the face of the earth' within the next 150 to 200 years. 'With what resounding applause would the rest of nature greet our demise!'
It would be unfair to assume from such statements that Mr Aspinall would approve of what is happening to the Cambodians.
There are not billions of Cambodians—only, according to Mr William Shawcross in Wed nesday's Daily Telegraph, some four million of them compared to about seven million in 1970. Many thousands more will now die of starvation unless they are promptly given food. The West, because it does not recognise the Vietnamese puppet government which replaced the iniquitous Khmer Rouge regime, is hesitant to supply the food unless it has guarantees that it will be given to the people who need it. The situation is painfully reminiscent of Biafra. Then, as now, western governments were reluctant for political reasons to send aid. They were frightened that the Biafran leader, General Ojukwu, would use itto support a rebellihn which they hoped to see crushed. In the case of Cam bodia, there is much less reason for hesita tion. Those journalists who have been there recently report that the local authorities are as concerned as anybody else to alleviate the suffering. And even if some of the food did stray into the mouths of Vietnamese sol diers, some at least would be bound to reach the starving.
Having read Paul Johnson's remarks about Now! magazine and Sir James Goldsmith in Tuesday's Evening Standard, I feel like making out a case in favour of weak, vacillating editorship and serene, absentee proprietorship. The second issue of Now! was, by common agreement, a good deal better that the first issue. Frank Johnson's profile of Lord Goodman was particularly enjoyable. But nobody reading it could possibly feel he was witnessing 'the interaction of strong personalities and the clash of vigorously held opinions', which is how Mr Johnson apparently imagines it. Mr Johnson is a romantic whose ideas about Fleet Street do not bear examination. He is mesmerised by Sir James's willingness `to sink millions of pounds into the industry', sounding like some trade unionist talking about British Leyland. Why or how the money is spent does not seem to matter. Nor is it true that 'what Fleet Street desperately needs is capital'. There has never been a shortage of potential press barons. What Fleet Street needs is well-run newspapers, freed from the dead weight of overmanning and trade union obstruction. And as for 'buccaneers', do they necessarily make the best proprietors? Beaverbrook's record is certainly Open to criticism. And who are the proprietors of today's best newspapers? Lord Thomson, Lord Hartwell, and Lord Rothermere are hardly buccaneers. The nearest thing is Mr Victor Matthews, and look at his newspapers.
Alexander Chancellor
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