Political sketch: Laying the Sun King to rest

Rupert takes away all of the blame - none of the responsibility.

 

In the end the Sun King just rambled on as might befit someone in his eighty-first year, and thus Rupert Murdoch was finally laid to rest on the Strand - fittingly at the end of Fleet Street where it all began 45 years ago. 

On the journey we discovered the man with his hand around the throats of all our political leaders believed that if you scratch my back I'll scratch yours - but not when it comes to our political leaders. He did them no favours and they did him none. 

We discovered he had not really liked the News of the World, the newspaper which brought his empire to crisis, and he wished he had closed it years ago. 

We discovered he took all the blame for what has gone wrong but none of the responsibility. 

We discovered he was seriously distressed by what had happened and some people were to blame but clearly not those close to him. 

As dramatic events go, the (probably) final public appearance of the media mogul who has so dominated parts of British public life was almost embarrassing.

At times, he was almost Alex Ferguson in his replies to charges that he had to accept his part in the scandal tied to his newspapers, but as soon as he flared he failed back into the gaps of someone who has remembered the answer but not the question. 

We learned it has cost him hundreds of millions of dollars and it was a serious blot on his reputation. 

We learned that son James might have been too inexperienced for the job that an editor of the Sun said he had been drunk all the time he had the job - but nobody noticed and that the Sun was, and is, his pride and joy. What the Sun says is what Rupert thinks. Or maybe the other way round. 

We learned too that if he had not taken the print unions, some of the papers doing him down today would not have been able to afford it. 

Sadly, or deservedly, he was asked by Lord Leveson to sum up the future of newspapers and he lost his way - maybe just like them. 

His many enemies, well earned and well deserved, will have to settle for the demise of the News of the Screws and the evisceration of son James. But they have also been present for the humbling of Rupert Murdoch - and that should be remembered. 

 

Peter McHugh is the former Director of Programmes at GMTV and Chief Executive Officer of Quiddity Productions

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The Women's March against Trump matters – but only if we keep fighting

We won’t win the battle for progressive ideas if we don’t battle in the first place.

Arron Banks, UKIP-funder, Brexit cheerleader and Gibraltar-based insurance salesman, took time out from Trump's inauguration to tweet me about my role in tomorrow's Women’s March Conservative values are in the ascendancy worldwide. Thankfully your values are finished. . . good”.

Just what about the idea of women and men marching for human rights causes such ill will? The sense it is somehow cheeky to say we will champion equality whoever is in office in America or around the world. After all, if progressives like me have lost the battle of ideas, what difference does it make whether we are marching, holding meetings or just moaning on the internet?

The only anti-democratic perspective is to argue that when someone has lost the argument they have to stop making one. When political parties lose elections they reflect, they listen, they learn but if they stand for something, they don’t disband. The same is true, now, for the broader context. We should not dismiss the necessity to learn, to listen, to reflect on the rise of Trump – or indeed reflect on the rise of the right in the UK  but reject the idea that we have to take a vow of silence if we want to win power again.

To march is not to ignore the challenges progressives face. It is to start to ask what are we prepared to do about it.

Historically, conservatives have had no such qualms about regrouping and remaining steadfast in the confidence they have something worth saying. In contrast, the left has always been good at absolving itself of the need to renew.

We spend our time seeking the perfect candidates, the perfect policy, the perfect campaign, as a precondition for action. It justifies doing nothing except sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the state of society.

We also seem to think that changing the world should be easier than reality suggests. The backlash we are now seeing against progressive policies was inevitable once we appeared to take these gains for granted and became arrogant and exclusive about the inevitability of our worldview. Our values demand the rebalancing of power, whether economic, social or cultural, and that means challenging those who currently have it. We may believe that a more equal world is one in which more will thrive, but that doesn’t mean those with entrenched privilege will give up their favoured status without a fight or that the public should express perpetual gratitude for our efforts via the ballot box either.  

Amongst the conferences, tweets and general rumblings there seem three schools of thought about what to do next. The first is Marxist  as in Groucho revisionism: to rise again we must water down our principles to accommodate where we believe the centre ground of politics to now be. Tone down our ideals in the hope that by such acquiescence we can eventually win back public support for our brand – if not our purpose. The very essence of a hollow victory.

The second is to stick to our guns and stick our heads in the sand, believing that eventually, when World War Three breaks out, the public will come grovelling back to us. To luxuriate in an unwillingness to see we are losing not just elected offices but the fight for our shared future.

But what if there really was a third way? It's not going to be easy, and it requires more than a hashtag or funny t-shirt. It’s about picking ourselves up, dusting ourselves down and starting to renew our call to arms in a way that makes sense for the modern world.

For the avoidance of doubt, if we march tomorrow and then go home satisfied we have made our point then we may as well not have marched at all. But if we march and continue to organise out of the networks we make, well, then that’s worth a Saturday in the cold. After all, we won’t win the battle of ideas, if we don’t battle.

We do have to change the way we work. We do have to have the courage not to live in our echo chambers alone. To go with respect and humility to debate and discuss the future of our communities and of our country.

And we have to come together to show there is a willingness not to ask a few brave souls to do that on their own. Not just at election times, but every day and in every corner of Britain, no matter how difficult it may feel.

Saturday is one part of that process of finding others willing not just to walk a mile with a placard, but to put in the hard yards to win the argument again for progressive values and vision. Maybe no one will show up. Maybe not many will keep going. But whilst there are folk with faith in each other, and in that alternative future, they’ll find a friend in me ready to work with them and will them on  and then Mr Banks really should be worried.