MELLOR, THE MEDIA, AND MANY MORE
THE LAST glimpse that the British public had of the late Sir James Goldsmith was of him giving David Mellor, the loser of the election at Putney, a slow handclap. As Jimmy crashed his large hands together he leant slightly forward and shouted, 'Out! Out! Out!'
This was taken by journalists and activists of all political parties not to be quite the form expected at a general elec- tion count. More usually the loser of the seat concerned makes a speech congratu- lating the winner and comments on the fairness of the fight — truth never seems to count a lot in politics. The winner makes complimentary remarks about the losers, almost to the extent where voters watching on television begin to wonder if they did the right thing in kicking the incumbent from office.
On this occasion, however, the conven- tion had already been reversed. The loser, David Mellor, referred to Sir James Gold- smith and the other minority party candi- dates as 'the people from the Zoological Society'. One of them started a slow hand- clap and this was spontaneously taken up from the floor, where the chant 'Out! Out! Out!' began. Sir James Goldsmith joined in this demonstration of dislike for David Mellor. It is not hard to sympathise with Mellor, a man who believed that he was God's gift to his electorate at least and possibly to the world in general. To find oneself so terribly wrong must be very off- putting.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, Goldsmith followed rather than led — this was a mistake, a mistake that a politician would never have made. It was the fact that Jimmy Goldsmith was not a politician that made him so refreshingly different. It was this difference that made him so attractive to the people who joined his party and to those who admired his style.
During the European election in 1994, I followed Goldsmith for several days as he campaigned in France. I was at the time working for the Sunday Express. During those days he made speeches to disparate audiences. These speeches, however, had one thing in common: as soon as he had finished speaking and the applause began, he left the platform. He was there to deliv- er a message, not to take applause. No politician born would ever do such a thing; to walk away from a cheering crowd surely must be madness. Politicians are totally different from busi- nessmen. James Goldsmith was first and foremost a businessman. Knowledgable, indeed expert, in history, philosophy and politics, he had the tools of a politician but not the instincts. Had his activities and those of his Referendum party been the subject of business reporting, those reports would have been glowing. Goldsmith, how- ever, was like a wild animal set loose in a jungle understood and tamed by political journalists. They knew the animals by name, knew their habits and their habitat. Goldsmith was a troublemaker in their eyes, unpredictable, likely to make their opinions expressed in yesterday's journals worthless. He on the other hand saw them as the enemy, and in business enemies are given no quarter.
The writ is the weapon of commerce, and Goldsmith used it with devastating skill all his life. He was not about to abandon his favourite weapon just because he was fight- ing a political battle. The Express was the first paper to receive writs. It reported that the Referendum party was illegally using paid canvassers. The canvasser in question was an Express reporter who, disguised as a student, had been hired by the Referen- dum party as an extra pair of hands to work in the office. Charlotte Blacker, the agent in Putney who hired this young man, is a highly competent agent, formerly employed by the Conservative party, and would never have made the mistake of paying a canvass- er. Sir James took action to silence what he regarded as a canard.
Charles Lewington, in charge of commu- nications, was reported as having claimed this coup against the Referendum party as his own. When he was faced in the green- room of a television company by Sir James, the conversation went thus: `I am James Goldsmith, I am told that you are Charles Lewington.' He then took Lewington to task about the piece of disin- formation. `Just a bit of good journalism by the Express,' Lewington claimed.
`Just another act of corruption by the most squalid and putrid political party in Britain today,' Goldsmith replied. One thing about Jimmy Goldsmith was that he did not mince his words.
The phrase 'I vomit on politicians' was, however, an invention reported by Hugo Young in an interview before the launch of the Referendum party. Goldsmith was sur- prised to see these words, misquoted in an earlier article by another journalist, appear in Young's piece. He was also sur- prised to see Young's interview appear earlier than expected, breaking an agreed embargo and scooping a piece in the Sun- day Telegraph. The game of politics and the press is very different from that of business and the press.
Right from the beginning, Sir James Goldsmith took the view that his party would be frozen out by the media and the political establishment. After one five- minute party political broadcast, the Ref- erendum party spent most of its time fighting inaccurate or totally untrue sto- ries. Writs were threatened and often mis- takenly believed to have been taken out. A Spectator article wrongly asserted that Lady Annabel Goldsmith was not seen in the constituency, a mistake lightly printed but deeply felt by a wife fighting an elec- tion for her husband knowing full well that death was his only appointment of any consequence in the immediate future.
During the whole of the election cam- paign, I saw and spoke to Goldsmith fre- quently. I did not get an inkling that he had cancer. He seemed to suffer from a bad back, often standing after he had sat for a while, then walking around and standing again. There was no sadness about the man, nor the least trace of self- pity. When Goldsmith laughed, his eyes laughed as well. He enjoyed the cut and thrust of campaigning, gurgling with delight when he wrong-footed an oppo- nent. However, he was filled with rage when he believed that the press had not done his party justice. Pointing at the jour- nalist, Simon Sebag Montefiore, he declared in almost Biblical tones, 'You were once a member of a great family!' Mr Sebag Montefiore was somewhat confused as the crowd stared at him.
In the case of the Evening Standard, Max Hastings, the editor, hated Goldsmith, mis- takenly imagining, it is believed, that Gold- smith had had a hand in his leaving the Telegraph. There is little doubt that Hast- ings would have loved to have had Gold- smith's style, while most people believed that Goldsmith was of the opinion that Hastings was a 'fake gent'.
All this confusion had one extremely use- ful consequence: the Referendum party lost its case against the Express and the courts ruled that political parties should not resort to the courts. The case has clari- fied the law. There is no doubt that when- ever Goldsmith was involved, the gentle pace of a convenient life was disturbed. If to irritate is to stimulate, the traditional parties at the last election underwent a course of stimulation the like of which they had not experienced for many a year.
For me, working with Sir James Gold- smith was a delight. In jest I have said, 'I have spent 15 years working for the Con- servative party, who have had dozens of ideas and no money. How wonderful it is to work for a party that has only one aim and lots of money.' That aim was to give the British people a choice regarding the posi- tion of their nation and Europe.
It was a grand idea. It still is a grand idea, as grand as the generosity of Gold- smith's spirit, a generosity of spirit that brought disparate people together with one ambition, putting party politics to one side. Sir James Goldsmith, ignoring a painful and fatal illness, fought ferociously for the success of that ambition.
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