Allan Massie: Tart response to those who can’t bear Rupert Murdoch

The Leveson Inquiry is revealing much of interest. When all the evidence has been collected, and Lord Justice Leveson issues his report, his recommendations, if acted upon, may be beneficial. Yet, because so much of the attention has – understandably – been directed at the Murdoch press and at his attempt to buy the 61 per cent of BSkyB which he doesn’t already own, a misconception about the relationship of politicians and the press seems to be taking hold. This has been encouraged by the House of Commons Select Committee on the media, whose Labour members forced through a declaration that Rupert Murdoch was not a fit person to head a major company. There are two charges against him. First, employees at some of his newspapers may have broken the law by their alleged phone-hacking activities, and senior executives either condoned these actions or attempted a cover-up to prevent investigation. Second, Murdoch is alleged to have exerted, or attempted to exert, undue influence on ministers, thus allegedly corrupting politicians and politics. The two charges are distinct. The first relates to actions which may lead to prosecutions. The second is merely a complaint that Murdoch and News International have too much power, and that this is bad for democracy. The misconception is that there is something new in the relations between politicians and a press mogul. The fact is that newspaper proprietors have always attempted to exert influence, and some far more blatantly – and, on one occasion at least, more successfully – than Rupert Murdoch. The most conspicuous example is Lord Northcliffe during the 1914-18 war. Northcliffe, who owned both the Daily Mail and the Times, had no confidence in Prime Minister Herbert Asquith as a war leader, and deliberately set out to destroy him, acting with Asquith’s rival, Lloyd George. He succeeded. Roy Jenkins, in his biography of Asquith, wrote: “Northcliffe exercised an influence greater than that of any newspaper proprietor before or since.” Half a century later, Northcliffe’s nephew, Cecil King, tried to unseat Harold Wilson. “Enough Is Enough” shrieked the Daily Mirror banner, as King called for a change of Prime Minister. Unfortunately for him, he had forgotten that, unlike his uncle, he didn’t own the paper, but was merely its chief executive. So it was King, not Wilson, who went. In truth attempts by press lords to throw their weight about effectively have usually failed. The most famous example was the effort by Lords Beaverbrook and Rothermere to get the Conservatives to ditch leader Stanley Baldwin. He saw them off saying they were seeking, “power without responsibility, the prerogative of the harlot throughout the ages”. Beaverbrook was the most ideological of press lords, and a man of demonic charm and energy, who took pleasure in corrupting idealistic young left-wingers. But all his campaigns failed. Newspapermen forgave him because, with all his faults, he loved newspapers – and for the same reason many are ready to forgive Rupert Murdoch. Indeed, there must be some journalists who wish he would buy their paper. Murdoch has strong views, though these have varied over his life – at Oxford University he was a member of the Labour Party. There is, however, very little evidence he has imposed his views on editors, and this, I guess, is because he has sufficient understanding to realise the need for editors to exercise their judgment and relate to readers rather more closely than their proprietor. Consequently, his papers have not always taken the same line – especially at election time. Leveson may decide there was some impropriety in the relations between ministers and News International in relation to the BSkyB takeover bid. It is certainly possible some ministers favoured giving this their approval to keep the Murdoch press onside – though the most evident piece of impropriety came from Business Secretary Vince Cable, who declared his opposition to a takeover, which was going to go to the appropriate authority for consideration. Yet it can hardly be surprising if senior members of News International took advantage of any meeting with ministers, even at a social occasion, to make the case for the takeover. Any businessman will lobby any minister on a matter that concerns him if he gets the chance. Politicians themselves are not averse to a bit of arm-twisting. In 1966, Roy Thomson, then the proprietor of The Scotsman and the Sunday Times, reached an agreement to buy the Times from the Astor family. The deal required to be cleared either by the government or the Monopolies and Mergers Commission. Prime Minister Harold Wilson invited Thomson and some colleagues to Chequers. In the course of the evening, recalled William Rees-Mogg, “Wilson, more or less openly, proposed he was prepared to allow the purchase of the Times by the Sunday Times, which would expect David Wood, political correspondent of the Times, to be fired.” They made no reply, hoping he would take silence as assent. The deal went through; Wood kept his job. Who says standards in public life are lower, and relations between politicians and the press murkier, than they used to be? It’s a point of view that cannot be supported by anyone with a knowledge of history. As for the influence of the media in general and the Murdoch press in particular, this is easily exaggerated. In general, the Murdoch press has followed public opinion rather than leading it. If politicians – both Labour and Conservative – have expended more effort in cultivating the Murdoch papers than any other ones, the reason is clear. Most other London papers have fixed political positions. The Murdoch papers have been the only ones to swing. So politicians seek their approval just as in elections they seek to appeal to the swing voters whose shifting loyalties decide who wins and who loses.