Notebook
scandalous act of self-interest on the part of Members of Parliament is receiving too little attention, too little public criticism, and from all appearances will soon be comPlete. Last summer, MPs voted themselves 48000 a year, but the Government decided that in a period of general restraint the amount should be restricted to £5750, by Way of temporary sacrifice in the public interest. It was agreed, nevertheless, that MPs' pensions should at once reflect a salary not of £5750 but of £8000—the notional amount, not the real one. • Last week the Bill giving effect to this irregular provision was before the House. A Conservative, Mr Paul Dean, moved to oPPose it in these terms: 'That this House declines to give a second reading to a Bill Which, by basing pension rights on notional rather than actual pay, provides privileged arrangements for members, ministers and Other office holders which are denied to the rest of the community.' Members of Parliament, he said, should not give themselves Privileges that the Government denied to Others. Quite so.
Another Tory, Mr Alfred Hall-Davies, called it an ill-judged and insensitive Bill. An sir precedent', said Mr Clement Freud, the Liberal; while a Labour MP, ,,
r Robert Cryer, complained that the Bill did not represent Labour Party policy and h,,,re would not vote for it. Needless to say,. Mr r Dean's motion was rejected. The Bill duly received its second reading—and will no doubt become law before the summer recess. It represents a disgraceful departure 'Min parliamentary propriety.
"ugh Delargy's sudden death under the _strain of a parliamentary controversy more cheated than any he had ever before faced arfleas a shock to friends and enemies v7alike, for he was a most gentle and conblvial man. Even when fighting the Labour ,ua,rtY establishment in alliance with his old "'tend, Nye Bevan, he avoided heat, IiplassIon and intrigue. In his later years (he
office briefly as a Whip in the early
,flies) he had settled down happily in his 1,1211e as one of that tribe of elderly backinnchers, steeped in House of Commons oltre and wholly lacking in ambition for in,„oicie:. who are essential for keeping the machinery of Westminster turning. He was :ftcOnsiderable admirer of Harold Wilson, ° regretted his retirement—though, as he to thank observed at the time, he had nothing r thank Wilson for, never having received Preferment at his hands. His abiding R.,..ssl°ns were his religion (he was a devout 2r.nlan Catholic) and Ireland: having been
IY a staunch Republican, the sufferings
of Ulster led him later to a concerned moderation. His health was never good, and he was under considerable strain for several days before the debate last Monday in which he had such a rough passage. There was never any ground for the unworthy accusation that his decision as Chairman of the Committee of Selection was made in collusion with the Labour Whips. Throughout and independently, he insisted that this was the course he would recommend.
The popular newspapers have been making a most unsavoury fuss over the cost of maintaining two Asian families at a hotel in Sussex. The type of coverage given to this story is a blatant example of newspapers catering to—if not inflaming—racial prejudice. Those who on reading such stories feel unpleasant emotions stirring within them would do well to reflect on two points. First, that the families concerned hold British passports and are entitled to full citizenship rights; and second, the statement made to the Evening Standard by Mr John Hooley, the chief executive of West Sussex Council. 'The problem we have is with the English families,' he said. 'To the best of our knowledge we have never had an Asian family for any length of time, but a lot of English families we have for years and years.' The implication, which is not difficult to accept, is that Asian immigrants are keener to find jobs and support themselves than are many English people sponging off social security.
The die is now cast, and the Italians will be electing a new parliament during the second half of June. The outcome of any Italian election is normally disappointing, for this reputedly unstable people have since the war shown an astonishing—even exasperating—stability in their voting habits. Tiny percentage swings from one party to
another, which in England would be regarded as negligible, are interpreted in Italy as important shifts of political opinion.
This time, however, there are good grounds for the fears that the Communist Party may emerge as the largest party, thus earning a right to a role in government. Opinion polls apart (and these are very encouraging for the Communists), one can sense that most Italians now regard the arrival of the Marquis Berlinguer and his comrades in the government as inevitable. Like so many million Vicars of Bray, the Italians are getting ready to be on good terms with their new masters. There seems to be nobody left who will admit to rightwing opinions. Even the industrialists and financiers pay lip service to socialism. The reason is the traditional Italian fear of being on the losing side, or being out of fashion. The warnings of Dr Kissinger or Herr Schmidt about the dangers of Communist government seem much less immediate or frightening than this.
James Margach, Political Editor of the Sunday Times, has retired after forty-two years as a Westminster lobby journalist. An Aberdonian of wry humour, Margach has always personified the quiet and unhurried authority of an earlier journalistic age. His contacts and coups are legendary. When they were referred to by Anthony Shrimsley at a lunch given by the Parliamentary Press to mark his retirement, Margach shrugged in a deprecating fashion and observed, 'It's quite untrue to say that I weekended at Chequers with every one of the twelve Prime Ministers in office during my career. It's known that two of them detested the place and never went there.' He himself reflected on the changes that had taken place since his arrival, as representative of the Aberdeen Press and Journal. There are, he said, now 1,574 public relations officers in Whitehall, most of whom spend their time trying to conceal information from reporters. When he came there were none. Shortly afterwards the lobby debated whether to recognise Whitehall's first PRO. Margach and others opposed recognition but were overborne by the argument that the appointment marked the beginning of a new period of open government. This sally raised a gust of heartfelt and cynical laughter.
It once seemed unthinkable that Ronald Reagan could deny the Republican Party's presidential nomination to Gerald Ford. Now, after his triumph in Texas, and his narrow but clear victory in Indiana, Reagan is breathing hotly down the President's neck. If (as still seems rather unlikely) Ford does fail to secure victory at the Kansas City convention it will not, however, be something unique in American history. The same unhappy experience has befallen five former presidents—John Tyler, Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, Chester Arthur and Andrew Johnson. Like Ford, Johnson was an unelected President.
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