The Rod Liddle affair

Spectator defends "right to offend"

Rod Liddle's blog on crime and multiculturalism has prompted a fierce reaction on Twitter and in the blogosphere. Here's the Spectator editor Fraser Nelson's defence of his errant blogger:

The Spectator stands up for the right to offend; our blogs often say things that people find offensive but that's part of our right of free expression. Rod is one of the greatest writers in Britain today. His column and blog are loved by readers. It's a significant part of my job as editor to defend people's right to be offensive.

No one (as far as I can see) is questioning Liddle's right to offend. They are questioning the implied causal link between crime and skin colour.

His fellow Speccie blogger Alex Massie issued a rebuttal of Liddle's claims and revealed he considered resigning in the wake of his diatribe. The former Spectator blogger Clive Davis summed up the affair thus:

Now why does he keep doing this? He's clearly an intelligent man. Does he really get a kick out of pandering to the bigots who hang around on his blog? It somehow doesn't seem worth the effort. When I was a blogger with the Speccie, it always puzzled me that the editors didn't make more of an effort to attract intelligent online readers as opposed to the noisy idiots who had taken up residence.

Meanwhile, Sunder Katwala, writing on the Fabian Society blog Next Left, simply asks:

How much nonsense could one man talk in just 91 words?

As a reminder of what Liddle has "done" before, read his blog on "Muslim savages" in Somalia. The post reacted to the horrific stoning of a 20-year-old woman who had committed adultery, and concluded:

Incidentally, many Somalis have come to Britain as immigrants recently, where they are widely admired for their strong work ethic, respect for the law and keen, piercing, intelligence.

 

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George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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Commons Confidential: What happened at Tom Watson's birthday party?

Finances, fair and foul – and why Keir Starmer is doing the time warp.

Keir Starmer’s comrades mutter that a London seat is an albatross around the neck of the ambitious shadow Brexit secretary. He has a decent political CV: he was named after Labour’s first MP, Keir Hardie; he has a working-class background; he was the legal champion of the McLibel Two; he had a stint as director of public prosecutions. The knighthood is trickier, which is presumably why he rarely uses the title.

The consensus is that Labour will seek a leader from the north or the Midlands when Islington’s Jeremy Corbyn jumps or is pushed under a bus. Starmer, a highly rated frontbencher, is phlegmatic as he navigates the treacherous Brexit waters. “I keep hoping we wake up and it’s January 2016,” he told a Westminster gathering, “and we can have another run. Don’t we all?” Perhaps not everybody. Labour Remoaners grumble that Corbyn and particularly John McDonnell sound increasingly Brexitastic.

To Tom Watson’s 50th birthday bash at the Rivoli Ballroom in south London, an intact 1950s barrel-vaulted hall generous with the velvet. Ed Balls choreographed the “Gangnam Style” moves, and the Brockley venue hadn’t welcomed so many politicos since Tony Blair’s final Clause IV rally 22 years ago. Corbyn was uninvited, as the boogying deputy leader put the “party” back into the Labour Party. The thirsty guests slurped the free bar, repaying Watson for 30 years of failing to buy a drink.

One of Westminster’s dining rooms was booked for a “Decent Chaps Lunch” by Labour’s Warley warrior, John Spellar. In another room, the Tory peer David Willetts hosted a Christmas reception on behalf of the National Centre for Universities and Business. In mid-January. That’s either very tardy or very, very early.

The Labour Party’s general secretary, Iain McNicol, is a financial maestro, having cleared the £25m debt that the party inherited from the Blair-Brown era. Now I hear that he has squirrelled away a £6m war chest as insurance against Theresa May gambling on an early election. Wisely, the party isn’t relying on Momentum’s fractious footsloggers.

The word in Strangers’ Bar is that the Welsh MP Stephen Kinnock held his own £200-a-head fundraiser in London. Either the financial future of the Aberavon Labour Party is assured, or he fancies a tilt at the top job.

Dry January helped me recall a Labour frontbencher explaining why he never goes into the Commons chamber after a skinful: “I was sitting alongside a colleague clearly refreshed by a liquid lunch. He intervened and made a perfectly sensible point without slurring. Unfortunately, he stood up 20 minutes later and repeated the same point, word for word.”

Kevin Maguire is the associate editor (politics) of the Daily Mirror

Kevin Maguire is Associate Editor (Politics) on the Daily Mirror and author of our Commons Confidential column on the high politics and low life in Westminster. An award-winning journalist, he is in frequent demand on television and radio and co-authored a book on great parliamentary scandals. He was formerly Chief Reporter on the Guardian and Labour Correspondent on the Daily Telegraph.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era