News International's problem is now Cameron's problem.

Employing and then losing Andy Coulson illustrates the Prime Minister's worst flaws.

You're in favour of abolishing the monarchy and have probably done it more damage than anyone since Cromwell. You despise the class-ridden nature of contemporary Britain. And you played a central role in Labour's three crushing general election victories, supporting the party in every poll between 1997 and 2005. But still the left hates you. So who can you be? None other than Rupert Murdoch, who's in a bit of trouble. Not his fault, of course – how was he supposed to know what his bestselling newspaper was getting up to during that brief period when one rogue individual was getting up to whatever it was? Why on earth would Rupert have paid attention to that, then or since?

No, all this has obviously come as a vast shock and has, right now, right in the middle of this pesky Sky bid referral business, just this moment come as a shock to Murdoch. But while there is absolutely no possibility that the owner of the News of the World is in any way personally culpable for what his paper did; David Cameron can't escape responsibility for his sins of commission in quite the same way. For employing and then losing Andy Coulson illustrates all the Prime Minister's worst flaws and promises plenty more harm to come.

The first thing that needs to be said about the phone-hacking scandal is that the internet has had nothing to do with it. This has been a story that has been kept alive by antique media, being almost entirely the work of the Guardian and the BBC. (Though perhaps that gladdens Rupert's romantic heart?) It's hard for Tories like me who fall into the "shut it down" rather than the "sell it off" camp, as far as the BBC's concerned, to face up to what it would have meant if the corporation hadn't existed. Fleet Street is so compromised by its own relationship with the police, past and present, that it hasn't been willing to give any heft to this story, if it can avoid doing so. It took the BBC to make this story -- and all those Tory flacks who screamed that there wasn't one here are discreditable fools. But for all that Murdoch is the real story, it's the Andy Coulson chapter that tells us a depressingly large amount about the Tory party that Cameron leads.

Even in the manner of his departure, Coulson reminded us, and more pointedly, the Prime Minister, what sort of man he is: "I've kept a diary!" being one of the century's most unsubtle threats thus far. When Cameron made him his spin doctor, immediately in the wake of the first elements of the News of the World scandal emerging, plenty of Tories shook their head.

Cynics wondered about the practicality of the second chance being offered, and whether it would end in tears, while traditionalists simply wondered what the leader of the Tory party was doing giving hundreds of thousands of pounds to man who ran front page after front page attacking and undermining the royal family. However modern the party was, it surely didn't need to be quite that modern? But how those monarchy-knocking stories came to be on Coulson's front page has come back to bite Coulson and Cameron good and hard.

One of the problems with the left is that, at root, you just don't respect the right: you think we're absurd, unreasonable, dishonest, or merely dim. Thus if you read that pro-monarchical sentiment motivated some of the people who were right when David Cameron was so very wrong, you either don't believe it, or you laugh it off as being risible. Yet, it was taking on the monarchy that was the step too far even for News International.

Hacking into the phones of royalty obliged an intimidated Met to act and that's what has set in train the greatest challenge Murdoch's empire has ever faced in Britain. It's certainly getting a far harder time than it ever got during any of those three parliaments, with their massive Labour majorities, for which Rupert had his papers campaign. You really might want to consider standing up for "God Save the Queen" the next time you hear it, as the press regime isn't anywhere as nice.

Who can blame the police for their reticence? When they arrested Damian Green for being in receipt of the contents of ministerial safes, because one lone civil servant felt he knew best where those contents should be, who stood up for them then? Partisan, Cameron-cheerleading Tories frothed at the mouth and disgraced themselves by calling the police "Nazis". And the liberal left wasn't exactly vocal in its defence of John Yates et al, either.

Having been burned by that experience, and after the frustrations of having to accept that no crime had been committed under the inadequate laws that provided for the cash-for-honours investigation, who exactly were the Met to look at for help in taking on any element of our sacred free press? Labour? Even today Ed Miliband can't wait to assure Rupert that he'll come running, should he ever be called.

Labour's ongoing fear of Murdoch was amply demonstrated by PMQs this week. Only the heroic Tom Watson stood up and asked a question about the phone-hacking scandal. The leader of the opposition certainly didn't feel the need to waste any of his questions asking, oh, "Did the Prime Minister discuss News International or any of its subsidiaries when he secretly met James Murdoch and Rebekah Brooks in the immediate wake of Cablegate?" Even though, thanks to the Independent, we know that Cameron's I've-always-got-away-with-it arrogance is so colossal that he willingly ran the risk of his conclave emerging last year, in the heat of Cablegate.

There's a school of thought, exemplified by the Telegraph's Charles Moore, that says that Cameron is an admirably cold-blooded, sure-footed master of business. In short, a grown-up who knows how things are done. If only. Anyone whose judgement is so poor that they go to a meeting like this merely confirms everything that went into his mistake in appointing Coulson in the first place.

The new Tory comfort-blog about Cameron's serial incompetence is that, with Coulson gone, the story goes away as a problem for the Prime Minister. But it's the opposite that's true: precisely because Cameron needlessly drew Coulson into his inner circle, every subsequent eruption from News International is now going to rain down on No 10, too. And if last week shows nothing else, there's plenty more hot stuff to come.

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org