Society

Brendan O’Neill

The crusade against FGM is out of control

Imagine if a Ukip politician wrote about being on an aeroplane that was ‘heaving’ with black people. Imagine if he described becoming suspicious of them, and assuming, on the basis of no evidence, just a hunch, that they must be flying overseas to get up to no good. Imagine if he complained to British police about this ‘heaving’ group of dark-skinned air travellers, and the police agreed to interrogate them upon their return to Britain. There would be outrage. We’d see this as racialised suspicion. In which case, why has there been no outrage, not so much as a raised eyebrow, over what the Lib Dem Baroness Jenny Tonge did at the

Rod Liddle

Why is the Royal family so bothered by its own archives?

I should declare an interest – because I work for the Sun. But even so, I cannot quite see what the Royal family’s objections are. It does no harm to remind the nation that Edward VIII had a sort of juvenile admiration for Hitler and that the Windsors are, in general, to the right of a fish-knife. I found the photographs historically fascinating. Nobody, surely, would blame Liz at the age of six or seven for joining in the Nazi salute urged on her by the future King. One of my own sons, when he was the same age, once asked me about the Nazis. So I told him, and

The Spectator at war: Magnanimity in stone

From ‘The Magnanimity of Italy’, The Spectator, 18 July 1915: The Italian always aspires not only to do great things, but to do them in the great way, whether it be to build a church, a hospital, or a railway station, paint a picture, or write an ode. Picturesqueness and the refinement of miniature work—these appeal to him very little. He wants the big brush, the big canvas. What Sir Thomas Browne so well called ” the wild enormities of ancient magnanimity” inspire no fears in his mind. The grandiose does not alarm him, but only the mean and the petty. This great-heartedness is shown very clearly not only in

Damian Thompson

Brave Cardinal Pell challenges Pope Francis’s dogma on climate change

‘The Church has got no mandate from the Lord to pronounce on scientific matters.’ In that one sentence, Cardinal Pell puts his finger on what is wrong with Laudato Si‘, Pope Francis’s encyclical on the environment. In that document, Francis waded into an argument about climate change and took sides. Moreover, he gave the impression that he was speaking for all Catholics when he did so; and, if by any chance he wasn’t, errant faithful should fall into line. In an interview in Thursday’s Financial Times, the Prefect of the Secretariat for the Economy stepped out of line. See above. It was a brave thing to do: Pell’s wholesale reform of

Fraser Nelson

The Queen won’t have been the only British girl messing about with Nazi salutes in 1933

Reassuringly, not even anti-monarchists are making mischief out of today’s pictures of an eight-year-old Queen being shown by her uncle how to make a Nazi salute. It’s a striking picture, but as everyone knows, it simply did not mean then what it means now. It was taken in 1933, when the full horrors of Nazism had not begun. It’s possible that the eight-year-old Queen was not following the rapidly-changing events in Germany very carefully. Hitlerism – with its uniforms, goose-stepping and other weird gestures – was seen by most Brits as a strange phase that Germany would soon grow out of. Hitler’s antics were looked upon with fascination and horror, but

Spectator competition: a lecherous poet gets his come-uppance (plus: Gove’s rules)

Given the kerfuffle caused by the recent publication of Craig Raine’s ‘Gatwick’ in the London Review of Books, I thought it might be interesting to invite competitors to compose their own poem about an encounter in an airport. Raine’s poem brought the Twitter bullies out in force to broadcast their disgust at an elderly poet sharing his lustful thoughts about young women. Fiona Pitt-Kethley’s submission imagines a scenario in which one of them wreaks her revenge: ‘We’ll see whose arse is large next time he comes/ To my desk in the airport. I’ve got chums/ With latex gloves and penetrating ways,/ Prepared to hold and search for many days.’ Others

The Spectator at war: Money matters

From ‘Phantom Gold’, The Spectator, 17 July 1915: There is something about the sight of golden coins which excites the imagination. Was it for economic nations alone that the world settled upon gold as the universal token? What delight children take in counters made to represent sovereigns—small children who have certainly never possessed a real twenty shillings. They know the round yellow shams have no value, they do not think about spending them seriously, but they love to play with them nevertheless. There are analogous games which we all play with phantom counters from time to time. The counters represent nothing that we have, or have lost, or even expect

Isabel Hardman

Government takes the trash out with barrage of sneaky announcements

Quiet Fridays are the best sorts of days to bury bad news: or at least so the Whitehall wisdom goes. That doesn’t seem to have worked today, given that ministers’ attempts to bury three bits of awkward news have been picked up – and because it’s a relatively quiet news day, they’re getting a good amount of attention. Today is clearly a take-the-trash-out day, when ministers get rid of a load of announcements that involve them admitting they’re either doing something unpopular, or they’re not going to do something that they are supposed to be doing. Today’s trash includes: 1. The government is delaying the cap on social care costs

The focus on terror has distorted the debate on encryption

Surveillance has hit the headlines again. This morning, the Data Retention and Investigatory Powers Act, or DRIPA, which passed last year after just 24 hours debate, was ruled illegal by the High Court in a landmark case. DRIPA was an emergency measure to allow law enforcement agencies access to communications data, and its illegality puts even more pressure on Theresa May’s forthcoming Investigatory Powers Bill, announced in the Queen’s Speech. Last week, David Cameron announced that WhatsApp, Snapchat, iMessage, indeed, any encrypted messaging system, could be banned under new laws. In the fight against terrorism, the security services’ ability to intercept communications by would-be violent extremists is said to be

The Spectator at war: A voice from the ranks

From ‘A Voice from the Ranks’, The Spectator, 17 July 1915: [To THE EDITOR OF THE “SPECTATOR.”] Sir,—Having served in the ranks since August, allow me to say a word about “National Military Service” and the “Drink” problem. On the grounds of equity and right, the flower of our British manhood—that manhood which is now serving with the colours—cries out for National Military Service throughout the Empire. We of the rank-and-file also see for ourselves the wonderful physical development which takes place in a lad after some two or three months of military training. We note the clearer eye, the more sprightly step, we notice the “glory ” of a

Fabulous Fabiano

Fabiano Caruana notched the result of his life at the Sinquefield Trophy in St Louis last year. Since then he has done nothing in particular and not done it very well, to adapt W.S. Gilbert’s lordly formula from Iolanthe. Now Caruana has reasserted himself at the elite tournament in Dortmund, where final scores (out of 7) were as follows: Caruana 5½, So and Nisipeanu 4, Kramnik 3½, Nepomniachtchi and Naiditsch 3, Hou Yifan and Meier 2½.   As can be seen, Caruana outclassed the field by a substantial margin, in spite of losing one game to Wesley So.   Nisipeanu-Caruana, Dortmund 2015 (see diagram 1) Black’s plan of advancing the

No. 370 | 16 July 2015

Black to play. This position is a variation from Kramnik-Naiditsch, Dortmund 2015. How can Black make a decisive material gain? Answers to me at The Spectator by Tuesday 21 July or via email to victoria@spectator.co.uk or by fax on 020 7681 3773. The winner will be the first correct answer out of a hat, and each week there is a prize of £20. Please include a postal address and allow six weeks for prize delivery. Last week’s solution 1 … Ba6 Last week’s winner Peter Durow, London W4

On Wimbledon grunters

What a pleasure it was to watch the men’s final at Wimbledon contested with a minimum of grunting, exclaiming and gesticulation. Romans would have approved. It was well known that athletes and those taking exercise had a tendency to grunt. Seneca the Younger (c. 4 bc–ad 65), multi-millionaire Stoic philosopher and adviser to Nero, described his unfortunate lodgings over the baths, which made him abhor his ears: quite apart from people hawking their wares, depilators making their victims shriek, bathers singing out loud and splashing about, ‘those working out with weights — whether actually working out or just faking it — grunt away; when they let out their breath, they

Letters | 16 July 2015

Unions led astray Sir: Leo McKinstry’s article on the current problems in the trade unions (‘Counter-strike’, 11 July) brings back unhappy memories of the last time a similar situation arose. This was probably best known for Arthur Scargill’s attempt to use his position as head of the NUM for his own self-aggrandisment. I lived through that era and remember it well. I knew union members who were frightened of their ‘leaders’, a situation the founders of the trade union movement would have found incredible. In 1974 I attempted to transfer my union membership to a new location. Two representatives of the local branch came to see me, and were all

Low life | 16 July 2015

Watching the daily running of the bulls through Pamplona’s narrow streets online this week has given me a wistful pang about not being there again. I once went to Pamplona’s feria three times in four years and ran with the bulls every morning. One year I took Sharon. The day we arrived, she took one look at the streets pullulating with thousands of handsome, drunk young men and did the psychical equivalent of a graceful swallow dive into their midst. I had rented us a room in the town but she visited it only rarely and never slept there. I hardly saw her for the seven days. I should explain

Real life | 16 July 2015

Insomnia has a lot to answer for. I have not been sleeping well for years but a few months ago I stopped sleeping at all. By that I don’t mean I sleep a little bit. I mean I sleep never. And since I stopped sleeping, I have been teetering on a knife-edge. It is, I can reveal, barely possible to behave in accordance with the law if you have had no sleep for a significant time. I suspect a large proportion of the prison population just needed a sleeping pill to make them into responsible citizens. As for women’s prisons, they must be jam-packed with menopausal desperados needing HRT whose

Long life | 16 July 2015

I have always been what I suppose one could call a weed, and a cowardly one at that. I never liked sports and was never any good at them. When fielding at cricket at my prep school, I used to while away time making daisy-chains. Of my part in football one prep-school report merely said, to my mother’s great amusement, ‘Chancellor prefers to avoid the ball.’ At my public school, where you had to choose between rowing and cricket, I chose rowing, but only because I was just small enough to get away with being a cox, which only involved sitting in the stern of a boat and bellowing orders

Bridge | 16 July 2015

Omar Sharif did so much for bridge. He inspired countless others through his own devotion to the game (‘Acting is my living but bridge is my passion’); he promoted it around the world with his travelling ‘bridge circus’; he lent his glamour to every major tournament — even turning down films if they clashed. And he set a perfect example of gentlemanly behaviour. Zia Mahmood, one of his favourite partners, remembers that the only time Omar got cross with him was when Zia doubled the opponents in 7NT holding an ace. ‘He said the score would have been almost as good without the double — and not doubling would have

Toby Young

Urban foxes, the ginger menace

Forget about the countryside. When is the government going to do something about the vulpine creatures wreaking havoc in central London? The situation is now so out of control, it’s time the Prime Minister convened a meeting of Cobra to discuss the ginger menace. I’m talking, of course, about the horde of SNP MPs who’ve invaded Westminster. Actually, I’m not, but I couldn’t resist that gag. No, foxes are the problem. I don’t actually keep a chicken coop in my back garden in Acton — and, for that reason, I’m spared the sight of my beloved poultry lying in a pool of blood with their heads bitten off. But I