Television
Devil-worship
Richard Ingrams
Iit possible that the BBC's God Slot on 'Sunday has now been replaced by a Devil Slot? The question occurred to me while watching a documentary on Sunday devoted to the now familiar subject of the Orange People, the followers of Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, a bogus Indian guru who achieved some status in Britain a few years ago when Bernard Levin wrote a series of long features in the Times proclaiming his wonderful gifts and spiritual profundity. Later, the Bagwash's image took a bit of a knock when the BBC showed a film made by Christopher Hitchens at the cult's head- quarters in Poona which included evidence of the cruelty and perversion practised in the name of psychotherapy and inner awareness. Hitchens pointed out, inter alia, how many of the Bagwash's disciples ended up in the loony bin as a result of their quest for sanity. Meanwhile, Spectator readers had been given a glimpse of the cult by the indefatigable Roy Kerridge, who spent a weekend at the British base near New- market. In an article now republished in Night Thoughts (Chatto £4.95) — a book which also, incidentally, contains a full ac- count of the Great Brideshead Bum debate — Kerridge reported that behind the fancy talk of deep spiritual experiences etc, what the Bagwashees chiefly meditated about was sex, a verdict that was later confirmed by another journalist from the left-wing magazine Under Currents who described the sordid goings-on in some detail. Mean- while, reports from Oregon where the Bagwash had by now settled, contained stories of copulation in front of the children being encouraged.
One wonders sometimes whether the BBC has any kind of contact with the out- side world. It didn't take much to realise that this cult, one of many which has flourished in recent years, is a sinister and fairly barbaric organisation which has caused a great deal of unhappiness to a large number of people. But in spite of everything and in spite of its own Hitchens film, which in my view didn't go nearly far enough, the Corporation continues to pro- mote the cult. The Sunday documentary, called House of Love consisted of a long puff for an obviously worthless new book on the subject by a scruffy-looking sociologist from the University of East Anglia called Bob Mullin. In the key scene we saw Mr Mullin taking his instructions from a rather shifty publisher, a represen- tative, presumably, from the firm of Routledge Kegan and Paul. This person pointed out that as the book would be bought mainly by the `Sanyassin' (as the Bagwashees refer to one another) it would have to be 'positive'. In other words, the last thing they wanted was a knocking job. No wonder therefore that Mr Mullin did not probe too deeply into what goes on at Newmarket or ask too many questions about the broken homes that have resulted from people getting trapped by the cult.
One can understand, perhaps, Mullin
'I also have a contract to test these water- proof watches.'
writing his book and Routledge publishing it — I imagine there is quite a lot of money to be made out of these poor people — but why should the BBC lend its considerable weight to promoting the book, especially when they have plenty of evidence on their files about the real nature of the organisa- tion? I take it as just another sign of the total collapse of standards and the lack of any grip by the programme controllers.
Talking of which, I was pleased to see that the Did You See..? bores gave the thumbs down to the new 60 Minutes pro- gramme which has replaced Nationwide. Sir Hugh Greene, the last 'positive' Director General the BBC had, pointed out that with all the money now being spent on Breakfast Time, the Corporation just can't afford to put out a good magazine programme in the evening, something that would compare with the old Tonight or Twenty Four Hours. I myself have never thought that big money is essential for making a good pro- gramme. What you need for a start is good presenters and reporters, not old hacks like Desmond Wilcox and Bernard Falk.
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