Nateb A U G 1 1981 I dikautromuummxtvaxxwouok politics in Italy
have been dominated ever I since the war by the efforts of democrats to exclude the Communists from power. The cost of keeping the country's second largest political party in eternal opposition has been a very high one. It has meant sustaining in office for 35 years a generally corrupt and incompetent group of politicians who have never been called upon to pay the normal democratic price for their corruption and incompetence. The result has been growing public disillusionment with the political process and a series of scandals that have culminated this year in the wonderfully all-embracing P2 affair. But it is nevertheless widely accepted by the Italian electorate, and even more so by Italy's allies, that this price has been worth paying. It has been assumed, and (to judge by the rather poor showing of the Communists in the Rome municipal election this week, despite the fact that they alone were untainted by the P2 scandal) it is still assumed that the admission of the Communists into government could be a disaster. Apart from the obvious dangers to individual freedom of a Communist presence in government, it would be seen as a serious threat to the Atlantic alliance and to the homogeneity of the European Common Market, which the Italians, unlike the British, regard as important. And yet, in a country far more powerful than Italy, a Communist Party far nastier and far less popular than its Italian equivalent is suddenly, and for no decisive reason of political necessity, allowed into government, and nobody seems to think it matters. The West German Chancellor, Herr Schmidt, described it as an event of 'no great significance'. Even Nato, which exists to protect western Europe against communism, is reported to be feeling perfectly relaxed about it all. France, of course, is not part of Nato's integrated military structure, and President Mitterrand may feel that he has the Communists under his thumb. But even if France does not suffer much from the experience of having a few Communist ministers, what of its effects on the rest of Europe? What of its effects on Italy, which is part of Nato? The spectacle of a seemingly successful experiment in Communistshared government in France may in due course weaken the resolve of the Italians and open the way to a similar experiment in Rome, with much greater risks.
Iyou are getting paid three million dollars I for using a certain type of tennis racket, as Mr John McEnroe is reportedly being paid by Dunlop, you must be feeling very angry indeed if you decide to break one. Mr McEnroe was very angry and therefore behaved very badly at Wimbledon on Monday, but I have some sympathy for him. When so much is at stake, it must be very provoking for tennis players to watch umpires enforce their sometimes erroneous decisions with expressions of such smug satisfaction. They could at least be a little more understanding, not to say more polite. But it is their practice, when players challenge their decisions, to make no comment and to avert their eyes, as if some sort of sacrilege had taken place. Their presumptions of infallibility might be more convincing if television were not there to prove them wrong. Television, however, is too kind to them at Wimbledon. In other sports, like football or cricket, whenever there is a disputed point, the BBC shows the event in question again and again, in slow motion and in freeze frame. But at Wimbledon, the line calls that so annoy players (even the ones who do not protest so volubly as Mr McEnroe) are rarely, if ever, replayed on the screen. Umpires might become a little humbler if they were.
SO the unacceptable face of Mr 'Tiny' Rowland will soon be presiding over the board meetings of the Observer, unless the Trade Secretary, Mr John Biffen, decides to overrule the advice of the Monopolies Commission. I can think of no good reason why he should so decide. Mr Rowland, it is true, does not look like a suitable proprietor for the Observer, His business success depends in large part on his close personal ties with African leaders, and the temptation to guide the paper's policy towards Africa will no doubt be difficult for him to resist. Only recently, for example, Lonrho took toadying advertisements in The Times and the Financial Times to welcome the President of Ghana to Britain; a few days beforehand, the Observer had published an article saying that Ghana was going down the drain. But this is not really Mr Biffen's problem. If Mr Murdoch was right for The Times, by what criterion can Mr Rowland be deemed wrong for the Observer? And why should a government minister decide such things anyway? The function of the Monopolies Commission in advising how newspapers should be run in the public interest is a very dubious one. The Commission cannot seek to prevent somebody buying a newspaper just because it does not like him, so it concentrates instead on negotiating safeguards for the paper's editorial freedom. Such safeguards are not likely to be of much value, and they involve, as in the case of the Observer, the curious and perhaps dangerous concept that a government can dictate the internal management arrangements of a private company. At the Observer, it wants there to be an eight-man 'independent' board, a device proposed by Lord Shawcross on Mr Rowland's behalf. Its members will, of course, be paid by Mr Rowland.
T have written before about Bradfield 1 College, the admirable public school in Berkshire which has the unique distinction of buying 106 copies of the Spectator every week. This is such an intoxicating situation for the editor of a small weekly magazine to find that last year I eagerly accepted an invitation to address the Sixth Form about the Spectator, despite the risk that this might result in the cancellation of the school's bulk order. I would certainly not have dared go, however, if I had known in advance that my fumbling efforts were to be subject to a popularity test. I now have a copy of a survey conducted among members of the Sixth Form, placing last year's lecturers in order of popularity. Happily, I emerged with some distinction from this piece of audience research (otherwise, of course, I would not be telling you about it). I was by no means top of the list. The boys' favourite speaker was John Drummond, Director of the Edinburgh Festival, who was given an amazing rating of 90 per cent for a talk on the arts in society. Next was General Sir John Hackett, everybody's favourite soldier, on international politics; and third — rather surprisingly perhaps — the Dean of Trinity Hall, Cambridge, on the 'Concept of God'. I came seventh with 76 per cent — just beaten, damn it, by Lord Caradon on 'world affairs', but well ahead of Professor A.Flew on 'equality', of the Chief Executive of Berkshire County Council on local government, and, believe it or not, of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Beethoven, who was perhaps standing in for a speaker who didn't turn up, scored only 55 per cent. Even he did well, however, in comparison with scientists from Harwell talking about nuclear power, with a lecture on 'The Bible: its use and abuse' and with one on 'The potter as creator'. Sir Patrick Dean on Nato came 16th with only 39 per cent, but bottom of the list by far was Mr Patrick Montague-Smith, the editor of Debrett, with only 25 per cent. As he was talking about genealogy, one wonders why he fared so badly. Is there no longer any interest in this important subject? Are public schoolboys no longer the little snobs they always used to be? Is Bradfield not getting the best class of pupil? Or is Mr Montague-Smith a bore? I think we should be told. The Spectator, incidentally, is used at Bradfield as a basis for discussion in the Sixth Form's General Studies course. Boys were asked if they felt it was of value to the course. Fifty from per cent said it was, 14 per cent said they saw no direct connection but enjoyed reading it, and 32 per cent said that it was not. That sounds quite an encouraging result.
For the past ten years a former town clerk of Keighley in Yorkshire has been setting a weekly crossword puzzle for the Spectator. Now, alas, because of ill health, he has asked to stop, and the last of the regular `JAC' puzzle appears in this week's issue. The author of these unfailingly ingenious puzzles is Mr J.A. Caesar, who lives in retirement in Weymouth. His association with this paper began in 1971 when a package of 18 unsolicited crosswords arrived in the post. Since then he has been a model contributor; utterly reliable and meticulously accurate. His many devotees will be pleased at least to know that he will continue to contribute the occasional puzzle, including a lumbopac' at Christmas. And, with Mr Caesar's help and advice, we will continue to publish crosswords of a similar type.
Alexander Chancellor
Previous page
