A Spectator's Notebook
Last week in this column I suggested that Hartford Thomas, a former City editor of the Guardian, was circularising newspapermen (at the expense of the European Movement, and with expenses for himself into the bargain, I believe) asking them to be associated with the Pro-Market group that is to go by the name of Journalists for Europe.' They are planning to publish the names of their members supporting membership of the EEC and are asking Journalists to allow their names to appear beneath letters written for them to the press. Now David Malbert, the City editor of the London Evening Standard, has taken me to task for attacking Thomas. Malbert says that if he decides to attack, in the language of the Evening Standard, the 'grab plans' of Mr Benn and seeks to influence others he is not 'muddling' the issue, as I did. If he were to adopt the methods of Hartford Thomas, I think he might well be doing a great deal worse. If he were to send letters to Christopher Fildes, the City editor at the rival Evening News, and to other City journalists, suggesting that they get together to puff the gold price which Malbert alone among his staff was 'bulling' a few weeks ago, or if he were to write around to suggest that they have a united front on the price of a certain share, Malbert would not be , guilty of muddling the issue, he would be guilty of manipulating opinion and gross abuse of his Position: if not, indeed, of conspiracy. Instead of making a free-masonry of thought, the place for Mr Thomas and Mr Malbert is Within their own columns, where they should be explaining that the great issues before us are, as they have been for 100 years, Free Trade arid Tariff Reforimin different clothes.
Diarists
The Sunday Times has, for the past two weeks Without explanation, stuck the Dorothy L. Sayers biography on the back page, losing Alan Brien's Diary in the process. I suppose Dorothy Sayers and the Crossman Diaries are needed to hold sales during the cover-price increase. But the Sunday Times is always good value for money, so long as Alan Brien is there.
Brien comes from that barrel-chested, beerswilling, coarse-tongued, post-war school of Journalism which curiously combines bluster with an acute sensitivity for language and insensitivity to situations. He has no enemies but many friends — especially Bill Grundy, who thinks he is something of a snob: "Alan says his father went down the pits, when he was really a bus conductor."
Tube disaster
The stifling dead-end tunnel in which the terrible Underground accident occurred last Week was just eighty-six feet long. An immediate reaction is to ask why it was not dug much longer, so that in the event of an over-run there was a chance of the sand-drag slowing a train before the buffers. But if the tunnel could not be longer, why a dead-end tunnel at all? Peter Paterson, once this paper's political commentator, mercifully escaped from the second coach with 'merely' a broken hand, concussion, bruises and cuts, and a half-inch Piece of glass in his navel. Paterson is an active London journalist with plans to launch a new London newspaper. It must have been a galling personal 'Operation Heartbreak' to be a victim In a major news story that he was too injured to
cover. By the way, what was he doing travelling to Moorgate so early in the morning?
Question of timing
The people I meet who seem most opposed to the referendum are racing people — and that, it seems, because of its probable timing. There are great fears, apparently, that it will be held in Ascot Week — actually on Gold Cup day — and that the same rules will apply as in the case of general elections, when racing is cancelled. What would happen, presumably, if this terrible conjunction of events came to pass, would be the extension of Royal Ascot to the Saturday.
The only comfort I am able to offer these Turf enthusiasts is that things are even worse in the United States. Over there, I gather, they close all the bars as well while the polling stations are open.
.0ff the rails
British Rail's efforts to deal with inflation are becoming increasingly bizarre. First it was that saga of the deteriorating bacon, and now it is something known as a "supplementary fare". On my morning train from Colchester to London I was astonished when the ticket collector demanded an extra 20p for the privilege of travelling non-stop to Liverpool Street. The man laboriously wrote out a receipt for the extra money (no doubt he is employed to do nothing else), but it seems an odd way of annoying the poor passenger who buys a ticket in the fond hope that it will take him to his usual destination.
Lady Hartwell— an apology In our issue of February 22 we attributed to Lady Hartwell the following remark she was' alleged to have made about Mrs Margaret Thatcher, at a reception: "God, I see they've picked that fascist female as leader!"
We accept unreservedly' that no such statement was in fact made by Lady Hartwell and that it does not in any way reflect her views. We offer our sincere apologies to Lady Hartwell for the distress and harm caused to her by this offensive publication.
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