The BBC made the decision to broadcast Hilary Mantel's short story. Photo: Getty
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The BBC is right to broadcast Hilary Mantel's The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher

The fictional account of an IRA sniper targeting the Conservative Prime Minister threatens no one and shows the Corporation is in good shape.

"Froth and bile” neatly sums up Tory criticism over the BBC’s decision to broadcast Hilary Mantel’s short story The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher.

The author herself came up with the above quote as a response to the anger of Norman Tebbit and others over her work being serialised in Radio 4's Book at Bedtime.

Tebbit – himself badly injured in the 1984 IRA bombing of Brighton that Thatcher survived – went as far as to say the decision was the product of a “sick broadcasting company”.

That is quite wrong and I’d suggest the former Tory Chairman and cabinet minister knows it. Certainly having worked for BBC News for a dozen years it is not a description I recognise.

The funny old thing about the BBC is, given its size and scope, it’s pretty hard to define as a single entity, “sick” or otherwise.

The corporation – despite internal PR spin of "One BBC" – is a place where people work in silos. On the shop floor of news, radio rarely talks to TV, and just about no one talks to online (even in the open plan newsroom at New Broadcasting House).

The Book at Bedtime producers are not journalists, and are not dealing with politics every day. Rather they are in their jobs because they love bringing words to life.

They would not have been thinking of some grand anti-Tory conspiracy in airing the work of the two times Man Booker prizewinner, nor most likely the attendant fallout.

In the wider BBC, decisions would then have to be made about what had become a story in itself once Tebbit and Lord Bell had waded in. These are never taken lightly in my experience, and always in the knowledge that the establishment is watching. 

“Should we do it?” and, “how should we do it?” would be among many questions asked by editorial teams working on programmes and news bulletins of all shapes and sizes, with plenty of knockabout before an outcome is reached. 

The truth of the matter is the BBC is no nest of socialists fomenting revolution. Despite longstanding claims of left-wing bias, it has folk of all political persuasion, and none, in its ranks; alumni include Ben Bradshaw (Labour MP), Craig Oliver (communications chief to David Cameron) and Paul Lambert (the political producer who recently jumped ship to Ukip).

Perhaps the most illuminating tale of conservatism at the Corporation was that of a chap – well known to old soaks who ran the newsroom when I joined – who stood in silence with a pint at the bar every lunchtime.

Apparently he was the MI5 man permanently placed inside the BBC, with the full knowledge of the Director General. When recruits arrived, their files would be sent to the spook for vetting. Deliciously this took the form of a stamp in the shape of a Christmas tree.

If the tree was the right way up you were cleared for promotion at a later date, if upside down, however, you had been identified as a subversive. Worthy of Mantel herself? Perhaps, but it was always told as plain fact by aged and wise colleagues.

I rather suspect the Book at Bedtime row shows that the so often embattled BBC is now a bolder beast than in the years immediately after the death of Dr David Kelly where fear of original journalism stalked the corridors of Television Centre.

Mantel’s detractors should realise, in stamping their feet, they are merely adding to public interest in a story they foolishly seek to suppress.

They would also do well to welcome a BBC that, though cut to the bone, remains determined to stick to the "Reithian Values" of education, information and entertainment.

It would be a strange political animal indeed who cried foul over such noble objectives. So let’s snuggle up in January and enjoy The Assassination of Margaret Thatcher (a work of fiction).

Douglas Beattie is a journalist, author of The Rivals Game, Happy Birthday Dear Celtic, and The Pocket Book of Celtic, and a Labour Councillor based in London.

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Europe's elections show why liberals should avoid fatalism

France, Germany and the Netherlands suggest there is nothing inevitable about the right's advance.

Humans are unavoidably pattern-seeking creatures. We give meaning to disparate events where little or none may exist. So it is with Brexit and Donald Trump. The proximity of these results led to declarations of liberalism's demise. After decades of progress, the tide was said to have unavoidably turned.

Every election is now treated as another round in the great duel between libralism and populism. In the Netherlands, the perennial nativist Geert Wilders was gifted outsize attention in the belief that he could surf the Brexit-Trump wave to victory. Yet far from triumphing, the Freedom Party finished a distant second, increasing its seats total to 20 (four fewer than in 2010). Wilders' defeat was always more likely than not (and he would have been unable to form a government) but global events gifted him an aura of invincibility.

In France, for several years, Marine Le Pen has been likely to make the final round of the next presidential election. But it was only after Brexit and Trump's election that she was widely seen as a potential victor. As in 2002, the front républicain is likely to defeat the Front National. The winner, however, will not be a conservative but a liberal. According to the post-Trump narrative, Emmanuel Macron's rise should have been impossible. But his surge (albeit one that has left him tied with Le Pen in the first round) suggests liberalism is in better health than suggested.

In Germany, where the far-right Alternative für Deutschland was said to be remorselessly advancing, politics is returning to traditional two-party combat. The election of Martin Schulz has transformed the SPD's fortunes to the point where it could form the next government. As some Labour MPs resign themselves to perpeutal opposition, they could be forgiven for noting what a difference a new leader can make.

2016 will be forever remembered as the year of Brexit and Trump. Yet both events could conceivably have happened in liberalism's supposed heyday. The UK has long been the EU's most reluctant member and, having not joined the euro or the Schengen Zone, already had one foot outside the door. In the US, the conditions for the election of a Trump-like figure have been in place for decades. For all this, Leave only narrowly won and Hillary Clinton won three million more votes than her opponent. Liberalism is neither as weak as it is now thought, nor as strong as it was once thought.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.