SPECTATOR'S NOTEBOOK
J. W. M. THOMPSON
The wrangle between Washington and Hanoi over the location of their conference is part of the interminable diplomatic game customary in such cases, with each side accusing the other of being evasive or dragging her feet. But it also illustrates the dreadful complexity of or- ganisation which now has to precede any such meeting. Two states, even when less overtly hostile than the United States and North Viet- nam, can only confront each other in nego- tiation when a massive infrastructure of communications, accommodation and expert agencies has first been constructed. There is a persistent American myth of the showdown seen as in a Western film: two men walking slowly towards each other in a deserted street. Its modern equivalent, in international terms, requires each man to have a huge force of ad- visers, countless miles of telephone wire and masses of electronic equipment, an army of security guards and, of course, a teeming gallery of press and television men. The con- frontation has grown almost unmanageably complicated. I remember being in New, York when Mr Khrushchev suddenly announced his intention of attending .a United Nations ses- sion. The entire city, in many ways the most blasé and self-assured in the world, was thrown into utter consternation at the prospect of re- ceiving the head of the Soviet state at only a few days' notice. The security and organisa- tional problems daunted even New York.
It's a sign of the insecurity of modern governments that they feel it necessary to field an entire army in order to hold a conversa- tion. But since this is so, might it not be worth while one day creating a permanent inter- national centre for delicate negotiation between rulers? A neutral island with a pleasant cli7 mate might be suitable. Years ago it was thought the United Nations might fill this role. That hope having been somewhat blighted, the case for finding another site seems strong.
Benefactor
Over Easter I read Robin Fedden's The Con- tinuing Purpose, the official history -of the National Trust just published by Longmans (42s). A weekend when the land was seething with motoring families in search of `the country' was an appropriate time to digest this story. It embraces, incidentally, a major seg- ment of English social history over some seventy years; the National Trust owes its origins to that extremely Victorian phe- nomenon, the high-minded individualist re- former, and at its first meeting were such eminent Victorians as Thomas Huxley, G. F. Watts and Holman Hunt; and it has changed with the times right up to its recent experience of conflict with a vociferous `protest' move- ment. After reading this book my main impres- sion is of surprise (and gratitude) that the Trust has been able to register so many victories in its struggle against the tide of history. One of the causes of the 1966 ructions, I think, was the delusion common to all the hard-working volunteers who govern this institution that although events may be working towards the obliteration of the countryside, people support their long defensive campaign. They thought they could assume general goodwill. But in reality only a minority is prepared to pay
a price for preservation. That is why what the Trust has achieved is so remarkable, and I think a time will come when it is seen as a public benefactor on a unique scale.
Back to nature
Anyone wishing to know what the rural scene of the future is going to be like ought to read the many turgid columns of Hansard reporting the debate on the Countryside Bill which took place just before the House of Commons rose for the holiday. Some of the headings of Clauses discussed are enough to suggest a bureaucratically regulated nightmare—`Riding of Pedal Bicycles on Footpaths and Bridleways,' !Avoidance of Pollution,' 'National Parks Joint Planning Board,' Duty to Maintain Stiles, Etc.' The Ms's went on for hours .about all this, Worthily and kindly trying to prescribe an elaborate legal machine so that people may still enjoy themselves in ,.tomorrow's country- side. While some of this seemed to stem from mere legislative mania—the feeling that there ought to be a law abOut everything, even about how to go along a footpath across a field— the enterprise as a whole is admirably intended and I dare say valuable. The ghastly fact is that some such massive state regulation prob- ably is necessary if the whole country is not to disappear beneath an advancing flood of concrete and a motor-borne army dispensing aural napalm from its transistors.
But at least the MPS' deliberations yielded some of the lunatic comedy inevitable when bureaucracy really gets up a head of steam: see the passage concerning the. proposed law governing the deportment of pedestrians, cyclists and horsemen on footpathi and bridle- ways. Should a .cyclist be required under pain of prosecution to dismount when overtaking a pedestrian? The debate waxed hot on this: if a cyclist (who may be a slow walker) has to dismount, what certainty is there that he will ever be able to overtake the more practiied pedestrian? _ He might have to trudge. along despondently for miles. The Commons had a tough time sorting out the rights and wrongs of this, but in the end,. they got the clause withdrawn. It was a famous victory for rustic liberties. Wordsworth, thou shouldst be living at this hour!
Out of focus
Of all the higher prices to be inflicted upon us in coming months the threatened increase of a pound in the cost of a television licence
• is surely the least justifiable. Without it, say the Bac lobbyists, what is termed the `develop- ment programme' for radio and television would be impaired: and this is evidently seen as a• clinching argument. Yet the nation prob- ably already spends more time watching the enormous output of television than it does on any other activity, and the BBC could well cut down its activities without depriving us of anything of importance. On the other hand, an extra pound (or even more, it's rumoured) would be a painful increase to many people- The new Postmaster-General, having already put up the price of almost everything else he is responsible for, might at least leave this alone until circumstances favour a change
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