7 APRIL 1979, Page 5

Notebook

Ho! Ho! Ho! Off to the polls we go. The Government went out in a blaze of dishonour. The Prime Minister, who appears never to have noticed his predecessor's final honours' list, never heard of a slag heap nor indeed of politician farmers, taunted the Tories with promoting land speculation. Mr Foot claims victory in the war as a triumph for his party. Whoever won the war it was Certainly not the left-wing Socialists. At the time Mr Foot himself was an editor for Lord Beaverbrook, one of the worst of the aPPeasers of Germany and soothers of Britain. Nowadays we have no foreign policy. Indeed, how could a country which fawns utt China but finds Rhodesia unspeakable aspire to any such thing, even if it had the economic strength to do so? The only consistent item in the Socialist management of overseas affairs seems to be the sale of arms. How Sir Basil Zacharoff must be laughing at the official merchants of death funded by Whitehall. We shall now have four weeks of Pulls, scares, accusations, press conferences, manifestos and promises. In May some party will claim a 'mandate' probably for making matters worse. I reject the doctrine of the 'mandate' but if mandates are to he claimed then recent governments have had no popular mandate for any of their major pieces of legislation. I suspect every one of these would have been rejected on a referendum. That the Government has got away with them is due to our ludicrous electoral system and our methods of choosN and financing candidates. These have le. d to a series of unrepresentative par'Laments whose members have forgotten that their job is not to sustain but restrain government. As someone who has opposed all governments for twenty-nine years I Object to being blamed for their follies.

When the Liberals win a by-election they do lo style. That Edge Hill was a special case I uo not deny. But I would hotly deny that it has no lessons of significance to teach us. First, it shows that there is a yawning gap on the Left. The Labour Party now represents the establishment, the apparatus of power, conservatism. Secondly, far too little attent1911 has been paid to Liverpool where the Liberals practising positive community Politics have kept the initiative for ten Years. Thirdly, to forecast the result of the General Election you must now look closely at what may happen in, say, fifty seats, each different. The overall swing one way or the her may be of little importance. Allegiance to the doctrines of the parties giluws weaker and weaker. How important will the speeches and programmes of the Parties be? Here I must put in a word for my much-abused profession of politics. To read some of the sanctimonious rot preached by the press, you would think that an upright and self-denying electorate were eagerly awaiting a politician who would 'tell them the truth', 'make no promises', 'warn them that they must accept lower wages, pensions, etc'. If any politician does so (and a few have) the first people to leap at them are journalists with headlines designed to inflame the most sluggish appetite. Nor do public appetites take much inflaming. 'More bread and circuses' is the demand even from people who should know better.

Three myths should be nailed at the start of the General Election. First, that the British people want a lead. Whatever else they may be in doubt about, they are deeply determined to ignore any lead. Secondly, that they will take much notice of the truth. They don't mind a few uplifting generalities or exhortations to face the future, give a day's work for a day's pay, etc. — but nothing specific thank-you. Thirdly, that there is some deep vein of democratic wisdom lurking in Britain. It would indeed be strange if, in a country which apparently cannot vote twice on one day without confusion, any such vein existed. But in any case as a country we show little or no awareness of the presuppositions upon which democracy, freedom and prosperity must rest. Nor apparently are child= educated to understand the workings of a free economy. Least of all are we taught to use our eyes and our judgment. We are prey to newspapers and broadcasting. If anyone cares to look round in the tube or bus they will see worried faces and all too often clothes which would be thrown out of any Orkney jumble sale. As for the state of our cities, state socialism has rendered great areas of them uninhabitable and other parts can be seen deteriorating under the growing welter of cartons and broken paving stones. Yet we are conditioned to demand more waste by the public authorities, more corporatism and to tolerate strikes and incompetence of every kind.

Having got that off my chest let me just mention one happy, economical, contented organisation which, believe it or not, is not demanding 'more'. I refer to the Scottish Royal Academy. The Scots are singularly inept in honouring their great men. Three Scotsmen have been geniuses. I leave aside the Scotch scientists and doctors, several of whom certainly are of world-wide significance. The three I refer to are Adam Smith, David Hume and Robert Adam. They receive small honour in their own country. Nor do the Scottish painters such as Peploe, Leslie Hunter, Melville and 'the Glasgow Boys' get the credit afforded even to some third-rate Scottish writers. Yet they were among the first British artists to respond to the continental mainstream of painting in the early twentieth century and they left behind some worthy successors such as Gillies and Joan Eardley. In the honourable tradition of Scottish art over the last hundred and fifty years the Royal Scottish Academy have played a central part. And they have done so with modesty, without the clamour of the public relations industry, and at little expense to the taxpayer.The same sort of compliments could be paid to their opposite number in London.

What goes on in the heads of the people who murdered Airey Neave? If they want the British out of Northern Ireland they are certainly going the wrong way about it. But, in any case, if the troops go, so should the subsidies and British-supported social services. Even the British taxpayer will ultimately jib at supporting anarchy or leftwing fascism. If nothing more than murderous bile fills the IRA, how about the people who appear to support the causes they stand for, from Kennedy downwards to the people who must be sheltering such thugs? I came across Airey chiefly over his efforts on behalf of Hess whose treatment at the orders of the Russians is a minor but typical example of the brutality of communism. At a time when nonentities and self-seekers ride so high in office little use was made of his organising talents. But then he was not self-seeking: he lacked all the vices which make politicians serviceable to the press or amenable to the bureaucracies.

Could not some airline break ranks and allow its girl attendants to deviate from the insincerities they are forced to mouth? Either that or employ a good gramophone. I wince at the hope that 'the delay has not caused you too much inconvenience' when it must be obvious that it has and the parrot-like apology only confirms me in thinking that the airline doesn't care. I am infuriated when a national monopoly complacently purveying a poor service hopes that I will fly with them again on routes where I can fly with no-one else. Must every girl in every plane say the same thing, at the same stage, in the same accents on every journey? Let the airlines learn from the railwaymen whose comments are frequently caustic, sincere and at appropriate moments blasphemous. I believe air-girls are much cleverer than they have to pretend.

Many MPs who have served the Commons well are leaving us — Douglas Jay and George Sinclair and John Gilmour, for instance, distinguished by their ability to say something worth hearing and do it in ten minutes. Alas, we shall enjoy no more those crusty performers Myer Galpern, Willie Ross and Clark Hutchinson. However, they will no doubt all turn up again in the unsinkable House of Lords, the only institution which spreads universal euphoria among its denizens. To repeat a joke picked up by my son: 'Old professors never die, they simply lose their faculties.'

Jo Grimond