A mutual crisis

In the first of our series on faith in a financial crisis the Presbyterian Church in Ireland's Moder

‘Britain must have confidence’ said the prime minister, Gordon Brown, a fortnight ago.

His comment underlined the lack of confidence that is dogging the financial system, which he propped up with the introduction of a credit guarantee scheme to the banks last October.

Alert to the implications, some investors in the Presbyterian Mutual Society, based in Belfast, realised their money was not covered by the guarantee. This triggered a run on the liquid assets of the Society.

The Society operated an easy access policy to savings, so savers withdrew their money to the tune of £21 million within a short space of time. The directors applied to the Department of Enterprise, Trade and Industry (DETI) of the Stormont Executive, to put the Society into Administration, and an Administrator took over on the 17th November 2008.

No new business is being accepted and savers cannot gain access to their money. This has placed many people in difficulty since they cannot pay bills due, nor meet commitments undertaken. Not only is lifestyle affected but also property and businesses, with a knock-on effect to jobs and livelihoods.

There are various links between the Mutual Society and the Presbyterian Church in Ireland. Only members of the Church can invest, and the Board of Directors is made up of Presbyterians appointed by the annual meeting of the shareholders. The Church has never had any operational involvement with the Society and the accounts are not presented to it for approval, but each year at the General Assembly meeting of the Church, a verbal report has been given commending the attractive dividend distributed. With that understanding, the Church, in general terms, drew the attention of members to the benefits described with a view to possible investment.

No one anticipated the difficulties that swiftly overwhelmed the Society in the autumn. We now realise that no financial institution is fireproofed against the credit crunch. The god of materialism has clay feet. There are those who feel the Church has misled them, and, because it has been pointed out that the Mutual is an independent organisation, that the Church has disowned them. Confidence in both the Presbyterian Mutual Society and in the Presbyterian Church has been shaken.

The Church is being pressed to do something to free up people’s savings or to return their money. However the Church has had no access to the books of the Society. The Administrator is severely constrained by law from divulging information. Recently he published his initial report revealing a deficit of around £100 million. People fear they will lose a substantial proportion of their money. Investors have had the opportunity to vote on five resolutions proposed by the Administrator in which he indicates how people might vote if they wish an orderly wind down over a period of time and thus get the best return. The alternative seems to be liquidation, increasing the losses. This will only become clear when the Administrator indicates what rate of distribution he can make.

The Church is able to offer limited help through some benevolent funds to those in dire need. As Moderator of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, I have written to the Prime Minister, asking for a meeting to put our case for government help, which would include the guarantee, but, also, to find some means to improve the liquidity of the Society and so stabilise the situation.

The Prime Minister has agreed, in principle, to meet the First Minister and Deputy First Minister of the Stormont Executive. I have also met several of the Northern Ireland MP’s at Westminster, local MLA’s at Stormont, and the Minister responsible for DETI. We have been encouraging Presbyterians to sign a petition on the Downing Street web site asking ‘…the Prime minister to provide similar guarantees to UK mutual societies as for banks.’ Printed copies of this have been provided for Presbyterians to sign in their local churches.

Christian faith is being tested, and, just as the principle of mutuality in financial terms has been under severe pressure, so the bond of caring fellowship is under strain. At such a crucial time, it is vital for all in the Church ‘…to carry each other’s burdens and in this way…fulfil the law of Christ.’ (St Paul’s letter to the Galatians chapter 6, verse 2)

Rt Rev. Dr W. Donald Patton
Moderator of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland

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After Strictly, I'd love to see Ed Balls start a new political party

My week, from babbling at Michael Gove to chatting Botox with Ed Balls and a trip to Stroke City.

If you want to see yourself as others see you, write a weekly column in a national newspaper, then steel yourself to read “below the line”. Under my last offering I read the following comment: “Don’t be angry, feel pity. Her father was a member of the European Parliament. Her older brother has been a member of parliament, a cabinet minister, a secretary of state, a historian, a mayor of London. Her younger brother is a member of parliament and minister for universities and science. She has a column in the Daily Mail. Can you imagine how she feels deep inside?” Before I slammed my laptop shut – the truth always hurts – my eye fell on this. “When is Rachel going to pose for Playboy seniors’ edition?” Who knew that Playboy did a seniors’ edition? This is the best compliment I’ve had all year!

 

Three parts of Michael Gove

Part one Bumped into Michael Gove the other day for the first time since I called him a “political psychopath” and “Westminster suicide bomber” in print. We had one of those classic English non-conversations. I babbled. Gove segued into an anecdote about waiting for a London train at Castle Cary in his trusty Boden navy jacket and being accosted by Johnnie Boden wearing the exact same one. I’m afraid that’s the punchline! Part two I’ve just had a courtesy call from the Cheltenham Literature Festival to inform me that Gove has been parachuted into my event. I’ve been booked in since June, and the panel is on modern manners. De mortuis nil nisi bonum, of course, but I do lie in bed imagining the questions I hope I might be asked at the Q&A session afterwards. Part three There has been what we might call a serious “infarction” of books about Brexit, serialised passim. I never thought I would write these words, but I’m feeling sorry for the chap. Gove gets such a pasting in the diaries of Sir Craig Oliver.

Still, I suppose Michael can have his own say, because he’s returning to the Times this week as a columnist. Part of me hopes he’ll “do a Sarah Vine”, as it’s known in the trade (ie, write a column spiced with intimate revelations). But I am braced for policy wonkery rather than the petty score-settling and invasions of his own family privacy that would be so much more entertaining.

 

I capture the castle

I’ve been at an event on foreign affairs called the Mount Stewart Conversations, co-hosted by BBC Northern Ireland and the National Trust. Before my departure for Belfast, I mentioned that I was going to the province to the much “misunderestimated” Jemima Goldsmith, the producer, and writer of this parish. I didn’t drop either the name of the house or the fact that Castlereagh, a former foreign secretary, used to live there, and that the desk that the Congress of Vienna was signed on is in the house, as I assumed in my snooty way that Ms Goldsmith wouldn’t have heard of either. “Oh, we used to have a house in Northern Ireland, Mount Stewart,” she said, when I said I was going there. “It used to belong to Mum.” That told me.

Anyway, it was a wonderful weekend, full of foreign policy and academic rock stars too numerous to mention. Plus, at the Stormont Hotel, the staff served porridge with double cream and Bushmills whiskey for breakfast; and the gardens at Mount Stewart were stupendous. A top performer was Jonathan Powell, Tony Blair’s former chief of staff, who runs his own conflict resolution charity. Powell negotiated the Good Friday Agreement and also has a very natty line in weekend casual wear. Jeremy Corbyn has said he wants a minister for peace, as well as party unity. Surely “Curly” Powell – a prince of peace if ever there was one – must be shoo-in for this gig.

PS: I was told that Derry/Londonderry is now known as “Stroke City”. I imagined stricken residents all being rushed to Casualty, before I worked it out.

 

On board with Balls

Isn’t Ed Balls bliss? From originating Twitter’s Ed Balls Day to becoming Strictly Come Dancing’s Ed Balls, he is adding hugely to the gaiety of the nation. I did the ITV show The Agenda with Tom Bradby this week, and as a fellow guest Balls was a non-stop stream of campery, charleston steps, Strictly gossip and girly questions about whether he should have a spray tan (no!), or Botox under his armpits to staunch the sweat (also no! If you block the armpits, it will only appear somewhere else!).

He is clever, fluent, kind, built like a s*** outhouse, and nice. I don’t care that his waltz looked as if his partner, Katya, was trying to move a double-doored Sub-Zero American fridge across a shiny floor. After Strictly I’d like to see him start a new party for all the socially liberal, fiscally conservative, pro-European millions of us who have been disenfranchised by Brexit and the Corbynisation of the Labour Party. In fact, I said this on air. If he doesn’t organise it, I will, and he sort of promised to be on board!

 

A shot in the dark

I was trying to think of something that would irritate New Statesman readers to end with. How about this: my husband is shooting every weekend between now and 2017. This weekend we are in Drynachan, the seat of Clan Campbell and the Thanes of Cawdor. I have been fielding calls from our host, a type-A American financier, about the transportation of shotguns on BA flights to Inverness – even though I don’t shoot and can’t stand the sport.

I was overheard droning on by Adrian Tinniswood, the author of the fashionable history of country houses The Long Weekend. He told me that the 11th Duke of Bedford kept four cars and eight chauffeurs to ferry revellers to his pile at Woburn. Guests were picked up in town by a chauffeur, accompanied by footmen. Luggage went in another car, also escorted by footmen, as it was not done to travel with your suitcase.

It’s beyond Downton! I must remember to tell mine host how real toffs do it. He might send a plane just for the guns.

Rachel Johnson is a columnist for the Mail on Sunday

This article first appeared in the 29 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, May’s new Tories