Like almost everyone else, I have no idea whether the accusations about paedophilia in Parliament in the 1980s are true. One thing I do feel quite confident about, though, is the business of the lost ‘dossiers’. The suggestion is that the disappearance of the file containing Geoffrey Dickens’s accusations of about 30 years ago and of 114 other files proves a cover-up. It does not. Literally tens of thousands of government files are destroyed every year, without much inspection. I believe, for example, that the overwhelming majority of the files from the offices of Chief Whip, the Leader of the House and Lord President of the Council from the 1980s were thrown out. And it is commonplace for departments to destroy files from the private offices of ministers. Such obliteration is, perhaps, a form of cover-up, but not a selective one. The prejudice is in favour of chucking out things which might be interesting (and therefore embarrassing), but this is done not by weeding out individual stories: it means that everything gets thrown away unless specifically saved. Only departments with a careful eye to history, such as 10 Downing Street and the Foreign Office, make much effort to keep things properly. The departments have too much power in the matter, the National Archives too little. The scandal, in this respect at least, is not about ‘historic’ child abuse allegations, but about the sloppy treatment of historical records.
This year, for the first time, Royal Ascot was sponsored. Qipco, the investment vehicle of the Qatari ruling Al-Thani family, were the ‘official partners’ of the meeting. As a result, several al-Thanis were feted at the races. On the Wednesday, the Emir of Qatar had lunch with the Queen at Windsor and then rode with her in her carriage in the Royal Procession. On the Thursday, according to the list, the emir’s cousin, Sheikh Hamad bin Abdullah Al-Thani and his mother, Sheikha Amna bint Mohammed Al-Thani, also lunched at Windsor, and were listed as riding in the third carriage. Sheikh Hamad, with his brothers, is the big recent Qatari investor in British racing. He and his mother were supposed to be sitting with the blameless Lord and Lady Daresbury, but it was noticed that in fact the Al-Thanis were absent, replaced by the Earl and Countess of March. What had happened? The story is that, while lunching, the Sheikha had been distressed to discover that she would not be travelling in Her Majesty’s carriage, but only in the third one. It is said she was so upset that she had insisted to her son that they must return to London at once, and skip the racing bit. It was also suggested that the Qataris’ PR, Lady Elizabeth Anson (who is a cousin of the Queen), was found at Ascot in tears, having been summarily sacked from her post, though she was later reinstated. Obviously none of this can be true, since an official notice was quickly put out saying that the sudden absence of the Al-Thanis was ‘due to a family health issue’. But the rumour illustrates the fragility of the Al-Thanis’ recently acquired status. This tiny nation of fewer than 300,000 people is proving very resourceful. Controversially, it has secured the football World Cup for 2022. It also gives honoured house-room to Sheikh Yusuf al-Qaradawi, the spiritual guide of Hamas and the Muslim Brotherhood, who believes that Hitler did well to ‘put the Jews in their place’. Sir John Jenkins, who is conducting an official inquiry into the role of the Muslim Brotherhood, will no doubt tell us more about Qatar’s backing for this revolutionary organisation. It is very nice for racing, of course, to get the Al-Thanis’ money, but is it so wonderful that the money can get them so close to our head of state?
It is this column’s melancholy, self-appointed duty, at this season, to remind readers of the Prince of Wales’s warning, in Brazil in March 2009. He said that the world had ‘only 100 months to avert irretrievable climate and ecosystem collapse’. Since the planet has not followed the princely remedies for survival, that collapse is presumably still expected on time. If he is right, we have only three years of our civilisation left. The Prince’s entire position, wealth and status depend upon him being wrong. His Royal Highness is closely associated with at least two institutions — the Duchy of Cornwall and the British monarchy — famous for taking the long view. So far, thank goodness, neither is showing the faintest sign of putting their money where his mouth is.
I have just reviewed What You Want, by Constantine Phipps. A verse novel — half-Dante, half-Pushkin — it is the best new creative work I have read for a long time. The biographical note about the author says: ‘Constantine Phipps was born in Yorkshire and is the author of two previous novels [named]. For many years he has been involved in property development and has interests in the UK and Canada. He lives in London with his wife, the author Nicola Shulman, and has four children.’ That is one, truthful way of putting it, but here is another: ‘The 5th Marquis of Normanby was educated at Eton and Worcester College, Oxford, and is seated at Mulgrave Castle, Whitby. He is the author of two previous novels [named]. He has a daughter of Sophie McCormick. He is married to the ravishingly beautiful writer Nicola Shulman, the former wife of the novelist Edward St Aubyn; her sister, Alexandra, is the editor of Vogue. He has three children with Nicola.’ According to the normal rule that writers should try to make themselves as interesting as possible to sell their books, this second version would clearly be preferable, but one respects Phipps’s canniness in choosing the dull one. I am sure that Dear Mary would counsel that the mark of a modest marquis is as much self-concealment as can be achieved without telling a flat lie. My only criticism of these self-effacing biographies is that by leaving out places of education, they fail to pay tribute where tribute is due. Few good writers can climb the slopes of Parnassus unassisted by good teachers.
Comments