20 APRIL 1996, Page 28

MEDIA STUDIES

At official level, there is disappointment that the press did not behave worse in Dunblane

ALAN COCHRANE

0 ne month has now passed since that dreadful day when all those children died in Dunblane; four weeks during which the world's press has packed its tents and moved on to some other outrage, some more dead children, some more grieving parents. That is always the way of it; or at least that is the way we journalists always see it. But for those we leave behind, those we regard as yesterday's news, what impressions linger?

It is axiomatic with massive news events such as Dunblane that the lasting impres- sion is not a good one. The sight and sound of hundreds of journalists riding into one's town cannot be pleasant. And when these strangers arrive, waving bundles of credit cards and Treasury notes to book up every hotel room and telephone in sight, their image is not particularly savoury. They are seen as jackals, feeding off the corpse, intent simply on satisfying their own needs and offering nothing in return.

However, that being their eternal fate, there is nothing the journalist can do except shrug his shoulders and move on to the next story. People personally affected by tragedy on the scale of Dunblane will never understand (and who could blame them?) that other people want to watch and read about their grief and that journalists are the medium which makes this possible.

So, while Dunblane may still be shell- shocked by its visitation from the press's so- called hellish legions, what of the wider reaction to the coverage of the massacre? I am bound to say that at official level in a great many quarters there is a sort of disap- pointment that the press did not behave a great deal worse in Dunblane than, in fact, it did.

It is probably because I am a journalist and — who knows? — am always on the look-out for slights, real or imagined, that I say this. A few facts, however, may bear me out.

Two weeks after the massacre, Scotland's senior law officer, Lord Mackay of Dru- madoon, ordered the Scottish Office to send a guidance note to Scottish newspaper editors warning them that they were in dan- ger of being reported for contempt of court if they published interviews with potential witnesses to the Tribunal of Inquiry to be chaired by the High Court judge, Lord Cullen. It noted with concern, but without being specific, instances of newspaper arti- cles which had explored and attacked the behaviour of public officials, including police officers and council staff, and it warned that further instances would be reported to Lord Cullen for possible con- tempt proceedings.

Lord Mackay also complained of 'intru- sive personal approaches' to individuals by newspapers. His edict entirely lost sight of the fact that it was the media which had prompted the inquiry, by revealing the numerous occasions where officialdom had failed to stop the murderer Thomas Hamil- ton getting the guns which killed the chil- dren. If the press embarrassed officialdom, then it was doing no more than its job.

The attempt at a gagging writ — the Lord Advocate has since denied that this was his intent — prompted a furious response from editors. Unlike their English brethren, Scottish editors, through the Scottish Daily Newspaper Society, have a professional body to which most belong. They quickly despatched a delegation to see Lord Mackay and sorted things out. At least for the time being. . . .

What irked the Scottish editors most was their belief that each and every one of them had acted with the utmost restraint in deal- ing with the story. This was not a restraint forced upon them, as some in officialdom would have those far removed from the event believe. This was a wholly instinctive reaction. Most Scottish newspapermen know Dunblane well, some of them live there. I myself have a brother and sister-in- law living nearby, and my niece, Beth, goes to a nursery not far from the scene of the massacre. Those killings touched us directly.

But the powers-that-be thought — and still think — that they should keep a close eye on us. The press and television cannot be trusted to behave responsibly, goes the argument, so officialdom will control them. This thought process reached ludicrous heights last Wednesday when the gym in which that infernal massacre took place was to be demolished. This fact was well known — the Prime Minister had decreed that is should be knocked down on his emotional visit to the murder scene with Tony Blair. Scottish Secretary Michael Forsyth had agreed; more importantly, the parents had agreed. But the local council did not want the event recorded. They arranged a rota to cover the event — for 24 hours later! News- papers largely ignored their attempt at cen- sorship and sent their reporters and photog- raphers to the school on the Wednesday to see the workmen raze the gym. For the life of me, I cannot see why not. But if there is one branch of officialdom which needs most to examine its role at Dunblane and whose role needs to be looked at in great detail by the press, it is the police. For reasons best known to itself, Central Scotland Police, in whose 'parish' lies Dunblane, has no press officer. Thus, the neighbouring, and much bigger, Strath- clyde police sent in their press team. How- ever, the police took upon itself another, wider role — a censor's role.

There have been instances of Scottish editors being 'invited' by police not to use this or that photograph or interview; of being 'advised' that certain individuals did not like articles which had appeared about them. It was the police which organised press rotas and called on the media to leave Dunblane before the children's funerals.

Now, there will be those who argue that someone has to deal with the press at times like these. But we must remember that this was not a criminal inquiry, in the strictest sense of the term. A crime had certainly been committed, but the criminal was dead. So why did the police run this particular show? And why do they think that it falls within their bailiwick to concern themselves with entirely non-criminal matters like the contents of newspapers and television news bulletins?

It is a power which the Association of Chief Police Officers seems keen to have. And it is their very enthusiasm for such control which makes it all the more impor- tant for the media to resist it.

I can well imagine that already there are symposia under way at the police staff col- lege at Branshill, entitled: `Dunblane. How We Controlled The Media', where senior officers are learning the latest string to ACPO's bow.

The British press is fighting to retain its right to regulate itself. By general consent, the Press Complaints Commission is seen to be working. (I understand it has received not one single complaint from anyone directly involved in the Dunblane saga about press coverage.) Officialdom, however, has decreed that controlling the press is their problem even when, as in Dunblane, there is no problem.

But then, of course, where there is no problem, then the only remaining thing to do is — yes, that's right — create one.

Alan Cochrane is editor of the Scottish Daily Express. Stephen Glover returns next week