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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Why relations between Theresa May and Philip Hammond became tense so quickly

The political imperative of controlling immigration is clashing with the economic imperative of maintaining growth. 

There is no relationship in government more important than that between the prime minister and the chancellor. When Theresa May entered No.10, she chose Philip Hammond, a dependable technocrat and long-standing ally who she had known since Oxford University. 

But relations between the pair have proved far tenser than anticipated. On Wednesday, Hammond suggested that students could be excluded from the net migration target. "We are having conversations within government about the most appropriate way to record and address net migration," he told the Treasury select committee. The Chancellor, in common with many others, has long regarded the inclusion of students as an obstacle to growth. 

The following day Hammond was publicly rebuked by No.10. "Our position on who is included in the figures has not changed, and we are categorically not reviewing whether or not students are included," a spokesman said (as I reported in advance, May believes that the public would see this move as "a fix"). 

This is not the only clash in May's first 100 days. Hammond was aggrieved by the Prime Minister's criticisms of loose monetary policy (which forced No.10 to state that it "respects the independence of the Bank of England") and is resisting tougher controls on foreign takeovers. The Chancellor has also struck a more sceptical tone on the UK's economic prospects. "It is clear to me that the British people did not vote on June 23 to become poorer," he declared in his conference speech, a signal that national prosperity must come before control of immigration. 

May and Hammond's relationship was never going to match the remarkable bond between David Cameron and George Osborne. But should relations worsen it risks becoming closer to that beween Gordon Brown and Alistair Darling. Like Hammond, Darling entered the Treasury as a calm technocrat and an ally of the PM. But the extraordinary circumstances of the financial crisis transformed him into a far more assertive figure.

In times of turmoil, there is an inevitable clash between political and economic priorities. As prime minister, Brown resisted talk of cuts for fear of the electoral consequences. But as chancellor, Darling was more concerned with the bottom line (backing a rise in VAT). By analogy, May is focused on the political imperative of controlling immigration, while Hammond is focused on the economic imperative of maintaining growth. If their relationship is to endure far tougher times they will soon need to find a middle way. 

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.