POLITICAL COMMENTARY

Below stairs at Westminster

PETER PATERSON

Not very long ago, shortly before Harold .Wilson took office for the first time, the Conservative government of the day was

struggling with the enduring problem of :matching wage increases to the growth of productivity: a normal governmental act- 'Aivity. Mr Reginald Maudling, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, requisitioned (for that is, apparently, the correct etiquette) a meeting of the Parliamentary Lobby correspondents. Something like a hundred turned up, rep- resenting national daily newspapers, provin-

cial papers, London evenings and the BBC and rev. They were given, on a strictly 'non-

attributable' basis an advance showing of the Treasury's plans for tackling the age-old question with yet another institution, a suc- cessor to the Cohen Committee's Three Wise Men' and a forerunner to the various bodies which now deal with such problems.

The political correspondent of one of our leading daily newspapers, loath to admit that he was the beneficiary of this odd sys- tem of group journalism, and bound by the rules of the Parliamentary Lobby not to re- veal, on pain of death, that he had been given a glimpse into the future by no less a figure than the Chancellor, conveyed the information to his readers as something that had been revealed to . . those with their ears close to Treasury listening posts'.

Regular newspaper readers will be accust, omed to more workaday euphemisms for

the Parliamentary Lobby correspondents' attempts at deception. The poor fellows are just not allowed to disclose that they have been apprised of the facts by Mr Maudling,

or the Prime Minister himself, or by the Prime Minister's PRO. They therefore tell

their readers that 'It is understood ...', or that 'Circles close to the Prime Minister be, lieve ...', or 'It is confidently expected that the Government will next week They are willing conspirators in a system which not only perpetuates an undemocratic aura of secrecy around the process of govern- ment in Britain, but also impedes and cripples the attempts of any politician out side what the Lobby regards as the estab- lishment from gaining access to the mass media. It is rather like a closed shop at a motor car factory actually extending its in- fluence into the realm of customer choice by Insisting that only one model should be on offer to prospective purchasers.

At this point, if my readers have gathered that I am about to launch an attack on the Lobby as an institution, I should point out

that the Political Correspondent of the SPECTATOR is not a member of the Lobby.

By some typically British compromise worked out by my predecessors in the weekly press, I am on a list compiled by the Ser- geant at Arms which allows me physical access to the Members' Lobby of the House of Commons. This privilege gives me access to certain secret garden areas of Parliament, including the Lobby itself and an airport- type lounge in miniature known as 'Annie's

Bar', and I also have a ticket to the Press Gallery where I recently enjoyed the doubt, ful privilege of being asphyxiated by cs gas.

My predecessor at the SPECTATOR, Mr fokuberon Waugh, has fought a long and so

far unavailing battle to remain on this list in his new duties as political correspondent

of Private Eye, or to have the Sergeant at

Arms issue him with a similar passport. Looking further back into history, I cannot believe that the Sergeant's leave-pass is an absolutely necessary aid to political com- mentating, for my most distinguished pre- decessor, Mr Henry Fairlie, did not possess

it nor, I believe, do those colossi of the political commentary business, Mr Robin ' Day and Mr Alastair Burnet. Nevertheless, it is a useful aid when the House of Com-

mons is sitting, and thus will come in useful again after 27 October, the date, incredibly, that the Government has allowed the Commons to recess to for its summer holidays.

So, while one is not a bona fide member of the Lobby, one is permitted to watch the

members of the Lobby at work in the Lobby itself (which is architecturally reminiscent of St Pancras Station) and at play in Annie's Bar (though during my visits, no siren pre- sides over the dispensing of alcoholic re- freshments here, but a Scottish barman whose efficiency does him, and the entire establishment, credit). To judge from Mr Jeremy Tunstall's new book* my rather ambivalent status allowing me to enter the Lobby without being a member also spares me countless hours in which I would other- wise be part of the most influential captive audience in the country. For it seems that the Lobby gathers twice every day during Parliamentary sittings to receive a 'briefing' from the Prime Minister's public relations staff, once a week to listen to the Leader of the House, once a week to hear the Leader of the Opposition, and as often as necessary to be given the latest dope by departmental Ministers. And what characterises nearly all these information-conveying sessions is that Lobby members must not reveal that

they have taken place at all, and must not directly attribute in their reports anything said by the person who has said them. Which brings us back to the nonsense about Treas._, ury listening posts.

Mr Tunstall has performed a very worth- while service by publishing for the first time

the rules of the Lobby, drawn up in 1956 and shown to each new member to ensure that the tradition of secrecy is carried on.

The rules strike me as excessively defer- ential and slightly freemasonic, almost like the list of do's and dont's that might adorn the servants' hall of a stately home still in private occupation. 'Do not talk about Lobby meetings BEFORE or arrEa they are held, especially in the presence of those

not entitled to attend them. If outsiders appear to know something of the arrange- ments made by the Lobby, do not confirm their conjectures, or assume that, as they appear to know so much, they may safely be told the rest.' Just the kind of advice that should be given to an impressionable young under-butler who might get over-excited by what transpires at one of.. his master's dinner parties.

And what about this one, conjuring up images of wild scenes in the Lobby before the rules were drawn up:. `Do not run after a Minister or a Private Member. It is nearly always possible to place oneself in a position to avoid this.' Only one step removed, one would have thought, from the holding of classes in deportment. Or, as an object lesson in the duty of a journalist: 'It is the Lobby correspondent's primary duty to protect his informants, and care must be taken not to reveal anything that could lead to their identification . . .', a rule which has to be taken in conjunction with its rider: 'Some- times it may be right to protect your inform- ant to the extent of not using a story at all. This has often been done in the past, and it forms one of the foundations of the good and confidential relationship between the Lobby and members of all parties.'

Ministers, this code of practice tells us. talk more freely under the rules of anonym- ity. But in case they are to be embarrassed by contentious carping during their dis- sertations, Lobby members are enjoined not to make 'political or debating points' during the meetings. They must also, however bor- ing or irrelevant the proceedings, stay until the end. 'This rule should always be ob- served, unless there is some compelling reason to the contrary, in which case an officer of the Lobby must always be in- formed.' Not that there is any possibility of evasion by assessing the situation before- hand, for the rule states: 'When meetings are arranged on behalf of the Lobby, it is your duty to attend, even if the subject to be discussed is not of first-class importance to you. Important news stories sometimes de- velop unexpectedly at such meetings.'

Any such set of rules must look faintly ridiculous when set down in cold print, and the Lobby committee of 1956 clearly as- sumed the authority of a nanny in attempt- ing to codify practices and customs which had grown up over nearly a century of Lobby correspondence. But are such rules still relevant today? The biggest danger, one would have thought, is that governments would stand to benefit to a much greater degree than the Lobby from the elaborate pretences designed to safeguard the secrecy of the process. News management is the real threat, not the revelation of the names of Ministers alongside their exercises in kite-flying. My own suggestion would be that in place of these secret briefings, the Lobby might very well pioneer the televised political press conference, asserting their undoubted rights and privileges by nominating which of their weekly meetings is to be thus thrown open to the common gaze. Such a move could help to break down the shyness of the House of Commons in having its own proceedings on television. Any dispute over the right of the press to be present at all, let alone to enjoy special privileges, might be solved, together with the acute problems of inade- quate accommodation desaibed by Mr Tunstall, by the newspapers and radio and television authorities establishing their own press centre outside the Palace of Westmin- ster.

They would thus free themselves front their present menial status, throw their deferential rules out of the window and be- gin to behave like servants of the electorate rather than the self-disciplined, forelock- touching servant class of whoever happens temporarily to be in residence at St Stephen'si * The Westminster Lobby Correspondents by Jeremy Tunstall, (Routledge and Kegan Paul £1 12s)