Television
Lessons of the past
Wendy Cope
At the end of the discussion program- me Shoa — Experience of the Holocaust (Channel 4) the participants were seen to stand up and leave the studio. It seemed that the honesty that characterised the making of the film had influenced the producer of the discussion. Why do we never normally see anyone get up and walk but of a television studio? This, of course, is not a very important question compared with the matters that had been under discussion for the previous hour and 40 minutes.
The programme, like the film, was dauntingly long in prospect but absorbing, as well as disturbing, once it got under way. Michael Ignatieff, the chairman, kept an admirably low profile. At times passions ran high among the other participants. Much of the talk centred around the question of the Polish 'bystanders' and director Claude Lanzmann's opinion not explicitly expressed in the film itself that it was no accident that the extermina- tion camps were in Poland and that 'it is very difficult to imagine Treblinka in a western European society, specifically France.'
'I find this discussion almost unbear- able,' said George Steiner angrily. 'None of us can know how we would behave.' Asked, towards the end of the programme, what he thought the consequences would be of broadcasting Shoa, he replied that the only way of honouring such a film . . . is to ask how one would behave oneself next time around. This is the most urgent moral question for a human being.' The chilling pessimism of that 'next time around' was underlined by Steiner's remin- der that adults and children were buried alive in Cambodia.
Earlier on Sunday I attempted to im- prove my understanding of more recent events by watching Weekend World (ITV) on 'The Crash of '87'. Weekend World used to be a regular feature of my routine, partly because it suited me to do the ironing at noon on Sunday and partly because of a liking for the way Brian Walden asked politicians the same ques- tion over and over again until he elicited something resembling an answer. Matthew Parris isn't Walden but he is perfectly adequate and he has sweet ears.
The alteration in my habits is chiefly due to a preference for listening to the radio while doing the ironing nowadays. Howev- er, when seized by an urge to bone up on some current affairs topic, I still trust this programme to explain things. As a very small investor, I have had some difficulty in seeing why people like me are supposed to be frightened by what has happened. At the time of writing, shares in British Gas continue to look like a better investment than any building society account, but perhaps this view of the matter will seem unduly sanguine by the end of the week.
Weekend World made it clear that a lot depends on President Reagan. This is not at all reassuring. A film clip of the Presi- dent telling the world that there is no need to panic caused me to reflect that he looks more and more like a man who has difficulty in remembering his lines. Profes- sor J. K. Galbraith, asked if he thought the administration would do the right thing, commented drily that, 'The capacity of President Reagan to be wrong is, I think, well established.' And what advice would the professor, as an older man, give the President? 'I'd tell him that different peo- ple age at different rates.' Galbraith was good value. It was harder to listen to one or two of the other American experts who appeared on the programme because they spoke in a tone of voice that suggested it was all just too boring and obvious and they'd said it a million times before. They've probably been doing half a dozen television shows a day since the index began to fall.
For those who feel in need of a little glossy escapism, there is a promising new series called The London Embassy (ITV) with a nice American hero, who won't go to lunch at the Savile Club because it doesn't admit women. It is based on stories by Paul Theroux and some of the jokes are funny. I shall watch it again.
Peter Phillips is away.