Kenny Farquharson: Sun shines on political winners

Published on Saturday 3 October 2009 19:43

THE message from my boss simply said to be at a fashionable Glasgow city centre restaurant at 1pm. Who was I meant to be meeting, I asked. The answer came back: "Les Hinton." My first thought was: "Oh-oh." My second thought was: "I wish I'd shaved this morning."

It was ten years ago and I was Scottish political editor of the Sunday Times. Les Hinton was executive chairman of News International – otherwise known as "Rupert Murdoch's presence on earth". My routine at the time was to see Hinton a couple of times a year; once in Glasgow where, over lunch or dinner, he would ask searching questions about Scottish politics; and once at the lavish party he would throw in his hotel suite at Labour party conference, with the bath full of ice to chill the champagne, and half the cabinet in attendance.

Why this trip down memory lane? Because the story of this particular lunch provides a wee insight into the kind of decision we saw last Wednesday, when The Sun told its 7.9 million readers it was switching its political allegiance. The day after the Prime Minister's speech to Labour party conference, the paper, instead of giving its verdict on the speech, gave its verdict on the man. Gordon Brown no longer enjoyed its backing. Under the headline "Labour's lost it", the leader column said: "After 12 long years in power, this government has lost its way. Now it's lost The Sun's support too."

That lunch in Glasgow came in the run-up to the first Scottish Parliament elections in 1999. For much of the decade the SNP had enjoyed the support of The Scottish Sun – a crucial factor in the Nationalists' resurgence. The SNP was on a roll, but at this crucial election would it have the propaganda power of Scotland's biggest tabloid behind it?

Hinton wasn't at the restaurant when I arrived but someone else was sitting at the table. It was Steve Sampson, the Loretto-educated former editor of The Scottish Sun who was at that time on his way to becoming a publishing millionaire in his own right. "What the hell are you doing here," he said. I asked the same question. When Hinton eventually arrived all became clear.

He wanted the two of us to debate Scotland's future, while he watched. I didn't know it at the time, but Hinton's chauffeur-driven car was waiting outside the restaurant and after lunch he intended to go to Kinning Park, then Scottish HQ of News International, to tell the editor of The Scottish Sun what party his paper would be supporting in this landmark election. Murdoch had entrusted Hinton to suss out the lie of the land and make the right decision. Two falls, a submission or a knockout would win the day. Seconds out. Ding-ding!

Sampson was a strong supporter of The Sun's support for the SNP cause and was close to senior Nationalists. He argued passionately about the resurgence in national pride; the Braveheart factor; the Scots' growing self-confidence; and, crucially, the seemingly inexorable rise of the SNP under a leader, Alex Salmond, who was one of the finest politicians of his generation.

All of this was undoubtedly true, but it didn't mean the first devolved government of Scotland was going to be run by the SNP. Scots had spent a century trying to get a measure of home rule, I argued. Were they going to reject a devolved parliament without even giving it a try? Would they really jump straight to full independence? I suggested not.

Hinton is an interesting man – tall and charismatic with steel-grey hair, extremely charming and intelligent with no airs or graces, as happy talking celebrity gossip as macroeconomics. (These days he's one of the most powerful men in New York, running Murdoch's latest acquisitions, the Dow Jones and The Wall Street Journal.) Coffees drained and arguments spent, we all shook hands. An hour later The Scottish Sun's editor was being told he was backing Labour.

A year or so later I met Hinton again and the subject of the lunch came up. I told him I was relieved my prediction had proved accurate. He laughed and said: "I was relieved too!" If the election had gone the other way, Murdoch would have wanted to know why.

That, when all is said and done, is what tabloid newspaper endorsements are all about. Newspaper proprietors of Murdoch's standing like to back winners. That way they can enjoy a good working relationship with whoever is in power. Rocket science, it ain't. And yet – when it comes to Scotland I suspect Rupert Murdoch's usual instincts don't always apply.

Murdoch once flew up to Scotland in the family's private jet to pay a visit to a new call centre for Sky TV, and afterwards he came to Glasgow for dinner in a private room upstairs at the Corinthian. I sat next to him throughout the evening and answered his questions about Scottish politics in general and Nationalism in particular. I was struck by how much Scotland, the land of his ancestors, seemed to mean to him (this, after all, was a man who named his sons Lachlan and James). He seemed puzzled about why the SNP wasn't more nationalist. Why didn't they have a policy that only Scottish companies should control Scottish oil, for example? The night ended with Lachlan begging for time so the editor of the Scottish News of the World and myself could show him the Horseshoe Bar. But father was firm – the private airfield outside London was only open for another couple of hours.

All of which makes me think the SNP shouldn't give up hope of once again winning the backing of Scotland's biggest tabloid. Not next year, but perhaps at the next Scottish elections, or at an independence referendum. It might make an old man very happy.