Behind the latest push for recognition of a Palestinian state – even though there is no agreement of what it is that might be recognised – is a sort of impersonation of the story of Israel. Palestinian activists want their own Balfour Declaration. President Macron wants France and Britain to come up with their own Sykes-Picot agreement, but pro-Palestinian. You might think that the clamour would have been shamed into silence by the massacres and hostage-taking committed by Hamas on 7 October 2023. On the contrary, these have somehow empowered the mimicry in wilder and more horrible ways. The genocide, we are now told, is being committed not by Hamas, but by Israel’s response. The ‘concentration camps’ are being set up by Israel in Gaza. And back here in Britain, where it might seem to the unprejudiced observer that anti-Semitism is now almost literally running riot, it is ‘Islamophobia’ which is being defined as an enemy so great that only one of our many religions must be protected by law, despite the cost to free speech. ‘Zionists’, by which is now meant Jews (note this change of nomenclature between the Hamas Charter of 1988 and that of 2017), are painted as the murderous classes, so Britain must be ‘de-zionised’. Does David Lammy realise where his new rhetoric is leading him and his party?
One reason why nothing gets done in this country is that bureaucratic power lies in delay. A business or a private individual needs to get on because his time is his money: the bureaucracy’s time is our money, so it has all the time in the world. This is an acute problem in relation to payouts for infected blood, the Post Office scandal etc. A faithful reader, Keith Miles, has an idea. Reverse the process, he says. Force the civil service to pay out £1 million to each acknowledged victim within three months unless it can be proved in that time that the money is not owed. Then the boot will be on the other foot.
On Monday, the House of Lords agreed that the bill to remove all hereditary peers from the House of Lords ‘do now pass’. The thing will not be complete until the Commons has considered amendments in September, but the death sentence has now been pronounced on the practice of more than 700 years. One or two speeches noted the melancholy historical significance of the change. The House is becoming a rump, though admittedly a large one. But I was interested by a rather more basic point made by the departing Earl of Caithness. When he had first taken his seat 50 years ago, he said, the daily allowance for attending the Lords was £4.73, which is £105.14 in current values. After Labour got rid of most hereditaries and brought in more of its own appointments at the turn of this century, the allowances ‘increased hugely’, the maximum daily allowance going up by 50 per cent. Today, peers can claim an allowance of £371 a day. As many of us have complained, Labour is jettisoning the hereditaries without reforming the Lords on a new basis, but I think we can be perfectly confident that, as it becomes predominant there, the allowances will rise higher still.
The Nationwide, by far the country’s biggest building society, is trying to be like a bank, and its customers are unhappy. Its chief executive, Dame Debbie Crosbie, earns £7 million a year and board candidates proposed by its members never get chosen. I suspect the members’ fears are well founded. In the market town near us, all the high-street banks have closed, but the Nationwide branch continues. I go there from time to time because my mother is now too frail to manage the journey and so I transact her Nationwide account for her. My visits have impressed me with the social utility of the place. Almost every customer is either old or, like me, acting on behalf of the old. There is a lot of fiddling with spectacles and hearing aids and struggling with forgotten passwords. Old ladies try to sort out their late husband’s financial affairs or transfer money to their daughter in New Zealand. Everything moves slowly. The staff are completely patient and, unlike the computer, very rarely say no. I can see why Dame Debbie might feel she has bigger fish to fry. And I agree with the members who therefore suspect her. What is a building society building by paying £7 million to anyone?
In the early 1970s, I used to stay with a schoolfriend whose parents lived in Old Church Street, Chelsea. In the same street was the rectory of Chelsea Old Church which was, believe it or not, occupied by the rector, and parish children could play in its two-acre garden. Not long afterwards, the Church Commissioners sold it off. Now it is offered for sale by its non-dom owner who is fleeing the Reeves-Starmer Terror. The reported price is £250 million. I sometimes wonder if anything has done more than house prices to damage our social fabric.
Although for professional reasons I feel I must sometimes listen to the Today programme, I almost never listen to anything else on Radio 4. This is a wrench for me since it was the staple of my parents and my boyhood but, like so many, I cannot stand being preached at. However, I keep in touch with the station because my wife has erected a sort of alarm to keep deer out of our garden. As the fallow or roe jump in, they trigger a burst of whatever is playing on Radio 4. My sister’s partner uses the same contraption in their garden, but he tunes the alarm to Radio 2 and has much less success in frightening off the marauders. I wonder why. When I go past the alarm myself, setting it off, I do notice that most snatches of dialogue are, even now, conducted in the tones of educated men and women. Perhaps the deer are more in awe of voices ‘born to command’ than of popular songs.
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