THE TV CAMPAIGN
De Arte Rhetorica
By STUART HOOD
AusrortE said that a speaker should make his audience feel that he possesses intelligence, virtue and good will. It would probably be libel-
lous to attempt to categorise the politicians one has seen on television lately under any of these three headings; but it seems safe enough to look at them from another point of view—equally Aristotelean—and consider their powers as com- municators and persuaders. Take the toughest test of all—the piece to camera, of which the Party Political Broadcast is the obvious example.
So far neither of the two major parties has put up a performance to challenge Ludovic Ken- nedy's solo turn—a .professional demolition job by a professional communicator.
On the Conservative side, kin Macleod has the great virtue of appearing positively to enjoy his appearances. When he analyses Mr. Calla- ghan's performance as Chancellor he does it with a certain zest, a touch of mischievousness, which helps wonderfully to focus the attention on what he says. Flanked by a vulturine Aidan Crawley and a Quintin Hogg sans ashplants or other obvious eccentricities, he contrived to stage a reasonably lively discussion on the Tory policy towards the unions. It was clear, unforced, easy; but then came the descent into a homily from Mr. Maudling—limp, uninspired and uninspiring. It was impossible not to suspect that this was Buggins's turn—and Buggins is a notoriously bad broadcaster.
The nadir was reached, however, by Ray Gunter, who had elected to be interviewed by three journalists—one a colleague from the SPECTATOR, who had the temerity to prod Mr. Gunter by asking a supplementary, thus drawing on himself a certain amount of plunging fire discharged from a great height. The rest of Mr. Gunter's contribution consisted of a display of Welsh chapel rhetoric, bristling with subjunc- tives and immensely condescending to everyone concerned—including the viewer. Having started with an abominably formulated question by one journalist the programme ended with the kind of feed question that has been stamped out long ago among television interviewers. The end of the affair was lost in inexplicable dumbshow. The result was to make one thank heaven for the professionals on the rival networks.
On Twenty-Four Hours and Election '66 they have been indefatigable. On performance it is hard to say with which team the balance of ad- vantage lies. What has emerged, however, is a sensation that Election '66 is somehow cramped —not just in the sense that the Twenty-Four Hours studio is physically bigger, but that the BBC has been able to deploy more resources and generally be more lavish in its coverage. Whether this lavishness always pays off is another matter. I doubt if the series of grass roots studies of con- stituencies is worth the exertion and the film used on it. This apart, Twenty-Four Hours in its speed and authority in handling news has given an irrefutable answer to those diehards in the BBC's News Department who used to maintain that no one could be trusted with a news item who was' not an old Ally Pally hand. It has all been terribly professional and rather. dull. One cannot but wonder where the fault lies: with the broadcasters or with the politicians?
Take the case of the Panorama special on
Rhodesia. It had a good solid piece of reporting from Central Africa by James Mossman with sufficient wild men accusing Wilson of being a Communist—'he has been in Moscow twelve times'—to make the blood curdle a little. There was an interview between John Morgan and an African politician. We had Michael Stewart in the flesh, Selwyn Lloyd in the flesh and Thomas Killock for the Liberals seen, as in a glass darkly, at the end of a line somewhere. Robin Day was in the chair. He was well up to form—fair, busi- ness-like, informed. The politicians were articu- late and clear. It was all very reasonable; it assumed intelligence on the part of the viewer; it was rather boring. Only professional zeal kept me at the set.
One can argue, putting a good face on things, that the politicians are being reasonable because they are addressing the few million voters who may perhaps be swayed in their allegiance by reasoned arguments. One is more likely to have a sinking feeling that there is no real fight to report, no sharply formulated issue to discuss. And whatever else the broadcasting organisations are there for it is not to inject adventitious excite- ment into the proceedings.
Perhaps the last week of campaigning will bring the screen to life—not just with the odd piece of heckling, not even with a confrontation, but with passionate argument about issues which will decide the fate of the nation for years to come. I am inclined to doubt it, however.
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