Of lynch-mobs and witch-hunts

How powerful people see opposition.

The Justice Secretary Ken Clarke has dismissed those scrutinizing his colleagues Jeremy Hunt and Baroness Warsi as a “lynch-mob”.   Not long ago, a well-known tabloid journalist attacked those investigating newsroom excesses as conducting a “witch-hunt”.

Of course, what is going on is nothing like a lynch-mob or a witch-hunt.  

Really, it is not.  

There are no terrified vulnerable people being persued down country lanes by vigilantes or hooligans with cruel violence on their mind.  There are no ropes thrown over branches nor any stakes placed on bonfires.   There is no bloodshed.    

Indeed, such stale but extreme language tells you a great deal about the mentalities of  those who employ it.  So unused are certain people of not getting their own way - either individually  or as a class - that they can think only in terms of mobs and witch-hunters when the prospect is raised of any genuine but unwanted accountability.  

So, as usual, the most revealing thing about a powerful man or woman is how they view those who can check them.  

For them, the sound of awkward questions being asked is the noise of breaking glass.

One should not be surprised by their responses.  

Yes, politicians from time to time may lose office; but the greater number of those who exercise actual power - civil servants, judges, police officers, and media proprietors and editors  - will be quite untouched by mere elections.  

They are settled in and do not like the “instability” of being confronted and challenged.  

For a citizen to even directly tell a Permanent Secretary, a High Court judge, a Chief Constable, or the owner of a tabloid, that they may be wrong and culpable and should answer questions is almost unthinkable as any practical matter.  

Such things do not happen, and there are various means in place to stop such impudence from occurring. 

As we observe the Queen’s diamond jubilee, it is clear that the United Kingdom has fashioned a polity where many individuals who exercise power never are really challenged.  

Tory politicians: off to the gallows? Photo: Getty Images

David Allen Green is legal correspondent of the New Statesman and author of the Jack of Kent blog.

His legal journalism has included popularising the Simon Singh libel case and discrediting the Julian Assange myths about his extradition case.  His uncovering of the Nightjack email hack by the Times was described as "masterly analysis" by Lord Justice Leveson.

David is also a solicitor and was successful in the "Twitterjoketrial" appeal at the High Court.

(Nothing on this blog constitutes legal advice.)

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“Trembling, shaking / Oh, my heart is aching”: the EU out campaign song will give you chills

But not in a good way.

You know the story. Some old guys with vague dreams of empire want Britain to leave the European Union. They’ve been kicking up such a big fuss over the past few years that the government is letting the public decide.

And what is it that sways a largely politically indifferent electorate? Strikes hope in their hearts for a mildly less bureaucratic yet dangerously human rights-free future? An anthem, of course!

Originally by Carly You’re so Vain Simon, this is the song the Leave.EU campaign (Nigel Farage’s chosen group) has chosen. It is performed by the singer Antonia Suñer, for whom freedom from the technofederalists couldn’t come any suñer.

Here are the lyrics, of which your mole has done a close reading. But essentially it’s just nature imagery with fascist undertones and some heartburn.

"Let the river run

"Let all the dreamers

"Wake the nation.

"Come, the new Jerusalem."

Don’t use a river metaphor in anything political, unless you actively want to evoke Enoch Powell. Also, Jerusalem? That’s a bit... strong, isn’t it? Heavy connotations of being a little bit too Englandy.

"Silver cities rise,

"The morning lights,

"The streets that meet them,

"And sirens call them on

"With a song."

Sirens and streets. Doesn’t sound like a wholly un-authoritarian view of the UK’s EU-free future to me.

"It’s asking for the taking,

"Trembling, shaking,

"Oh, my heart is aching."

A reference to the elderly nature of many of the UK’s eurosceptics, perhaps?

"We’re coming to the edge,

"Running on the water,

"Coming through the fog,

"Your sons and daughters."

I feel like this is something to do with the hosepipe ban.

"We the great and small,

"Stand on a star,

"And blaze a trail of desire,

"Through the dark’ning dawn."

Everyone will have to speak this kind of English in the new Jerusalem, m'lady, oft with shorten’d words which will leave you feeling cringéd.

"It’s asking for the taking.

"Come run with me now,

"The sky is the colour of blue,

"You’ve never even seen,

"In the eyes of your lover."

I think this means: no one has ever loved anyone with the same colour eyes as the EU flag.

I'm a mole, innit.