Notebook
The Liberal Party has of course made itself look very foolish in its handling of the Jeremy Thorpe problem. In particular, Mr Steel's decision on the eve of the Prime Minister's non-election announcement that he would sack Mr Thorpe as the party's foreign affairs spokesman was a classic example of political mistiming. But is Mr Bernard Levin's fury and indignation, as expressed in last Tuesday's Times, altogether justifiable? Mr Levin makes a habit of getting very angry about things, so perhaps one should not take him too seriously. But it seems to me that he Is being almost as silly as the Liberal party by trying to pretend that Mr Thorpe is not a Problem. Of course, Mr Thorpe should be presumed innocent unless and until he is Proved guilty. He is entitled to seek reelection to parliament, and he is entitled to attend the Liberal Party Conference, though most people would be grateful for an opportunity not to do so. But there is no reason why Mr Steel or anybody else should have to pretend that the former leader of the party has not been charged with two extremely serious offences. To demonstrate awareness of Mr Thorpe's situation and its potentially embarrassing consequences for the Liberals may be stupid or even unkind, but it is not, as Mr Levin unfairly claims, the same as to behave as though one believes Mr Thorpe to be guilty. And why should one ask any more of Liberal MPs than a presumption of Mr Thorpe's innocence? There is no earthly reason why Mr Grimond, who has behaved impeccably throughout the whole affair by saying precisely nothing, should feel obliged to invite Mr Thorpe to speak in his con stituency when he might not even under normal circumstances feel tempted to do so. And why should Mr Clement Freud place at risk his slender majority in the Isle of Ely by doing the same? Still, this is what Mr Levin expects of them, and there will be more righteous indignation if they don't.
However, I would not like my objections to Bernard Levin to overshadow my objections to the Liberal leaders. The most objectionable of them all is Lord Evans of Claughton, the outgoing party president, Whose attempts to stop Mr Thorpe from going to Southport and simultaneously to emphasise the warm welcome he would receive if he went there have bee.: pitiful to behold. In his efforts to maintain this extraordinary posture, Lord Evans found himself blurting out the silliest remark of the week. In an ITN interview about Mr Thorpe last Monday, he declared at one stage: 'I don't think it's fair really that what happens to a Person's private affairs should be linked to his public image. If in fact I have habits in pri vate like playing golf, it is nothing to do with the fact that I am publicly a Liberal'. Playing golf indeed!
Mr Auberon Waugh has only been back from his holiday in France a few days, but he is absolutely right (page 6)in his interpretation of the public attitude towards Mr Thorpe's alleged involvement in a plan to murder Mr Norman Scott. Mr Thorpe, even if guilty, would be assured of most people's sympathy. The upper classes, who take the view that probably everybody has some little skeleton in his cupboard, find blackmail the most odious of all offences. The working classes feel that boring, bumptious homosexuals deserve anything that is coming to them. Only some members of the middle class may still feel that murder is the nastiest and most unforgivable crime of all.
I am pleased to see that Mr Jo Grimond, in a perceptive article in this issue of the Spectator, has complained, among many other things, of the state of British fire regulations. They are, he says, 'unnecessarily rigid and elaborate'. I was privileged last week to meet two middle-aged Uruguyan ladies who have been visiting London for the purposes of shopping and sightseeing, but mainly shopping. These ladies are fond of taking baths, but, when staying in European hotels, they are naturally worried about picking up germs from some previous occupant of the bathtub. Their well-tried formula for averting this danger is to sprinkle the bath with alcohol and set light to it. This practice is apparently found to be acceptable in hotels throughout Europe, but not at the YWCA in London. They are most indignant about this. They blame, like Mr Grimond, our oppressive fire regulations. It might not be so bad, they say, if Britain were (like Uruguay) a racially pure country. But here oh, dear literally anybody might have been in your bath before you.
So many new countries like to forget their colonial past that I was pleased to find an exception in the case of the Republic oi Trinidad and Tobago, where my grandfather was Governor from 1916 to 1921. I have received a postcard from a member of our staff who has been on holiday there. It portrays a rural scene at Port of Spain described on the back as 'Lady Chancella's (sic) Hill', named after my grandmother.
Great excitement. I may be about to win £1,000 a year for life from Reader's Digest that, or a lump sum of £15,000. Not only that. They have sent me a plastic key to a 'Ford Cortina 2.3 Ghia'. This is a Bonus Award. If I don't want the car, I can have another £5,000 pounds in cash. It is thrilling. I get all these things by entering the paper's 'Golden Windfall' prize draw. Their IBM computer has, they say, 'picked the Chancellor household' to receive six numbers, which they have sent me. It has also already picked the winning numbers. All I have to do is to send the numbers back and find out if I have won. And the glory of it is that I don't even have to read Reader's Digest. Of the two envelopes provided for returning the numbers, one (alas much dingier than the other) carries the slogan `No thank you. I do not wish to accept your offer of a subscription to Reader's Digest at a reduced introductory rate.' Such is my confidence that I know that! can use this envelope with out my prospects being in any way affected, so I am posting it this minute. The only nagging little worry is how their IBM computer had ever heard of 'the Chancellor house hold' to begin with. I have no credit cards, no subscriptions to anything. Is it possible that other organisations less generous and less honourable than the wonderful Reader's Digest may also have me on their lists? Is there no such thing as privacy? But £15,000! This is hardly the time to raise such questions.
The tourists are now drifting away from England. One can hardly blame them. The country is afflicted with smallpox, cholera, typhoid, lassa fever and botulism. Can Bangla Desh do better? I only hope that I survive to celebrate the Spectator's 150th anniversary next week. We will be producing a bumper full-colour issue that includes a history of the paper by Robert Blake and articles by, among others, Ian Gilmour, Michael Foot, Alan Watkins, Alan Brien, and all our regular contributors. Please buy it.
Alexander Chancellor
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