Harry Palmer reads the New Statesman

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Now a rather embarrassing confession. I'm reading a book by Len Deighton.

I've always rather liked the Harry Palmer films starring Michael Caine, particularly Funeral in Berlin. Anyway I came across a rather nice hardback edition of the Ipcress File at a National Trust house. Don't worry it was legally acquired, not snatched while my pregnant wife distracted an elderly steward...

Anyway I digress. At the start of Chapter 2 Palmer is walking down London's Charlotte Street towards Soho when he purchased "two packets of Gauloises, sank a quick grappa with Mario and Franco at the Terrazza, bought a Statesman, some Normandy butter and garlic sausage".

Now this got us thinking. The Ipcress File was first published in 1962 - easy to find out if you've got a first edition - so just what could HP have been reading about?

A quick email to walking New Statesman archive, rain expert and media guru Professor Brian Cathcart and we thought we'd worked it out...

To a spy the Vassall affair would have been particularly interesting. John Vassall was a gay civil servant who got photographed in some rather compromising situations with a Soviet citizen enabling the Russians to recruit him as a spy.

He then became a secretary to Tory minister Tam Galbraith which gave him access to all sorts of classified documents which he passed over to the USSR.

Eventually someone realised that Vassall had a rather high standard of living for his salary and it was a top news item for most of autumn 1962.

In a thundering editorial, Paul Johnson wrote about it in the 16 November edition of the NS.

In it Harold Macmillan is castigated by our former editor for regarding the "security chaos in the Admiralty as purely secondary to the political aspects of the affair".

But it can't have been the Vassall piece Palmer was reading. Nor could it have been the review of Ian Fleming's The Spy Who Loved me from the 11 May edition.

We know this because Deighton refers to Palmer's stroll down Charlotte Street taking place on "that sort of January morning that has enough sunshine to point up the dirt without raising the temperature".

So what could our spy have been reading? Was it Bertrand Russell's defence of unilateral disarmament in the letter pages? Or Johnson's profile of the Cold War Earl - foreign secretary Alexander Douglas-Home? A review of such titles as Lenin's Collected Works and Philosophy and Myth in Karl Marx? All were in the 5 January edition. Or perhaps an item on Soviet ideology in the 12 January edition?

Personally I think the clue is in some of the other items Palmer bought.

Deighton wants us to know Palmer is a sophisticate and the reference to the NS indicates that just as surely as the normandy butter shows he is a gourmet.

Ben Davies trained as a journalist after taking most of the 1990s off. Prior to joining the New Statesman he spent five years working as a politics reporter for the BBC News website. He lives in North London.
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Just you wait – soon fake news will come to football

No point putting out a story saying that Chelsea got stuffed 19-1 by Spurs. Who would believe it, even if Donald Trump tweeted it?

So it is all settled: Cristiano Ronaldo will be arriving at Carlisle United at the end of the month, just before deadline day. It all makes sense. He has fallen in love with a Herdwick sheep, just as Beatrix Potter did, and like her, he is putting his money and energy into helping Cumbria, the land of the Herdwick.

He fell out with his lover in Morocco, despite having a private plane to take him straight from every Real Madrid game to their weekly assignation, the moment this particular Herdwick came into his life. His mother will be coming with him, as well as his son, Cristiano Ronaldo, Jr. They want to bring the boy
up communing with nature, able to roam free, walking among the lakes and fells.

Behind the scenes, his agent has bought up CUFC and half of Cumbria on his behalf, including Sellafield, so it is a wise investment. Clearly CUFC will be promoted this year – just look where they are in the table – then zoom-zoom, up they go, back in the top league, at which point his agent hopes they will be offered megabucks by some half-witted Chinese/Russian/Arab moneybags.

Do you believe all that? It is what we now call in the trade fake news, or post-truth – or, to keep it simple, a total lie, or, to be vulgar, complete bollocks. (I made it up, although a pundit on French TV hinted that he thought the bit about Ronaldo’s friend in Morocco might not be too far-fetched. The stuff about Beatrix Potter loving Herdwicks is kosher.)

Fake news is already the number-one topic in 2017. Just think about all those round robins you got with Christmas cards, filled with fake news, such as grandchildren doing brilliantly at school, Dad’s dahlias winning prizes, while we have just bought a gem in Broadstairs for peanuts.

Fake news is everywhere in the world of politics and economics, business and celebrity gossip, because all the people who really care about such topics are sitting all day on Facebook making it up. And if they can’t be arsed to make it up, they pass on rubbish they know is made up.

Fake news has long been with us. Instead of dropping stuff on the internet, they used to drop it from the skies. I have a copy of a leaflet that the German propaganda machine dropped over our brave lads on the front line during the war. It shows what was happening back in Blighty – handsome US soldiers in bed with the wives and girlfriends of our Tommies stuck at the front.

So does it happen in football? At this time of the year, the tabloids and Sky are obsessed by transfer rumours, or rumours of transfer rumours, working themselves into a frenzy of self-perpetuating excitement, until the final minute of deadline day, when the climax comes at last, uh hum – all over the studio, what a mess.

In Reality, which is where I live, just off the North Circular – no, down a bit, move left, got it – there is no such thing as fake news in football. We are immune from fantasy facts. OK, there is gossip about the main players – will they move or will they not, will they be sued/prosecuted/dropped?

Football is concerned with facts. You have to get more goals than the other team, then you win the game. Fact. Because all the Prem games are live on telly, we millions of supplicant fans can see with our eyes who won. No point putting out a story saying that Chelsea got stuffed 19-1 by Spurs. Who would believe it, even if Donald Trump tweeted it?

I suppose the Russkis could hack into the Sky transmissions, making the ball bounce back out of the goal again, or manipulating the replay so goals get scored from impossible angles, or fiddling the electronic scoreboards.

Hmm, now I think about it, all facts can be fiddled, in this electronic age. The Premier League table could be total fiction. Bring back pigeons. You could trust them for the latest news. Oh, one has just arrived. Ronaldo’s romance  with the Herdwick is off! And so am I. Off to Barbados and Bequia
for two weeks.

Hunter Davies’s latest book is “The Biscuit Girls” (Ebury Press, £6.99)

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 12 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's revenge