24 September 2015
Sex, Drugs and Memory Loss
by J R Thomas
The silly season has arrived late this year. Mr Corbyn was the first to feel the chill blast as his past romantic life (especially with Diane Abbott, now a member of his shadow cabinet) was dissected in the popular press. As Mr Corbyn has made no secret of his rather wide-ranging and energetic history, this really did not make much of a story. In any case, attempts to make something of it were rapidly eclipsed by much fruitier allegations concerning the PM.
In a new book about Mr Cameron, Lord Ashcroft has suggested that the prime minister, whilst at Oxford and in his early career, had done and smoked those things which students and young persons frequently do and smoke at that jolly stage in their lives (maybe not the pig thing, but then, most students do not have much access to hog’s heads). What is a bit odd is the reaction to these stories (which have mostly appeared in the press before). Mr Cameron’s press office said he would not be responding to the torrid tales and that they “did not recognise” the allegations; a statement to file alongside Bill Clinton’s remark that he smoked cannabis at Oxford but “did not inhale”.
The problem with that sort of denial is that it suggests that the stories might be true, and that the press office is waiting to see if any collaboration or further evidence emerges. The 1st Duke of Wellington had a much better way of dealing with such things. “Publish and be damned!” he said when the courtesan Harriet Wilson threatened to expose her alleged relationship with the Great Duke. She did – publish that is – but the British public saw it as a further evidence of the true manliness of their hero soldier. The modern equivalent might be to say “Well, indeed, so what? I don’t remember all the details but we are all young once.” That surely would endear Mr C much more to the great British public who are a pretty tolerant bunch and might respond very positively to a man who was not perfect but has got over it.
The Shaw Sheet is not here to repeat salacious gossip (we recommend one of the smaller daily prints for that), but what is interesting is how politicians handle such matters and how it plays out among the public. Mr Clinton realised that a bit of naughtiness did little harm among Democrat voters, and indeed seemed to make him even more popular if anything (though his claim to have, um, erm, not inhaled with Ms Lewinsky seemed a little ingenuous, if not downright ungentlemanly). George W Bush, you may recall, made a positive virtue out of a very misspent first third of his life, confessing openly to major problems with drugs and alcohol and by implication his great strength of character in overcoming them. In the current electoral run nobody has yet set about Mr Trump’s past, but there seems little doubt that the only thing that might upset the Donald would be suggestions that there was nothing he liked better in his youth than a quiet game of Scrabble with a few friends and then to retire to bed early with a mug of cocoa.
We will be having a look at the American Presidential race next week, but in passing we note that Mrs Clinton is suggesting this week that if only the voters got to know her, they would see what fun she is. “Real people go shopping” she said, slightly bafflingly. But she is missing the point. She needs to find a hunky life guard who scooped her out of a Florida pool 45 years ago, or a couple of red hot student lovers reminiscing about Hot Hilary at Yale Law School and that night they fought over her favours on the lawn beneath her window. Part of the public mistrust of Hilary is that they suspect she was too immersed in law-books and late-night study to have an interesting past. The world does not readily warm to swots…
What upsets the public, one suspects, is the suggestion that they are been fibbed to or that they are likely to believe stories of ludicrously saintly behaviour (especially by persons who claimed to combine youthful sanctity with membership of the Bullingdon Club). Within reason, signs of a naughty past seem to be vote-winning rather than vote-loosing. Wellington we have already mentioned honourably, but other Victorian politicians also lived their lives to the full. Disraeli was always keen to have about him the suggestion of a past life best not talked about (though in reality seemed devoted to his Mary Anne and to enjoy quiet nights in her company above all things). Lord Palmerston not only enjoyed a rumbustious youth but kept it up throughout his life to popular delight, even managing to die on a billiard table in flagrante delicto. And Gladstone, whilst he was no doubt driven by the highest and purest of motives in his attempts to assist Victorian streetwalkers, caused much good-natured public comment and pleasure by “misunderstanding” of his good works. It is true that James Stewart Parnell was weakened by his long-standing love affair with Katherine O’Shea and involvement in her appallingly messy divorce; but his fundamental popularity amongst Home Rule supporters seems to have been little damaged, and he would almost certainly have continued as “uncrowned King of Ireland” had he not died. And what brought Mr Profumo down, and so damaged the then Prime Minister, Harold MacMillan, was not so much the naughty behaviour but the lying about it to the House of Commons and to the public.
It is a while since British politicians’ private lives have been raked over in public to this degree. In fact, one has to go back to John Major’s government in 1992 to 1997, when he was rocked by allegations of weak morals on every side, including his own. What probably did the damage though was not so much the behaviour as the general feeling of incompetence and lack of firm government that grew from the constant muck-raking. Angry and slighted billionaires aside, it seems unlikely that there is any real appetite for a return to the turning of stones and the emergence of love children, wronged mistresses, secret boyfriends (of male MP’s) and deceived wives that the News of the World made its particular stock in trade. Politics is not enhanced by this, and what the modern voter wants seems to be honesty and sincerity. Nevertheless, the modern voter also seems to like a giggle; so however Mr Cameron handles this, and whatever may yet emerge to his credit or demerit, Dave will undoubtedly find that any proximity to pigs will not help serious attention to his policy pronouncements or strategic positionings. Like Mr Milliband, he will be well advised to be avoid bacon sandwiches for the foreseeable future.
