Society

Alex Massie

Patriot Games and Scoundrels – Spectator Blogs

The Olympics are over and, with grim inevitability, politics have returned. Not the least lovely aspect of the Olympic fortnight was the manner in which it eclipsed everything and anything our politicians had to say. They were not missed but now they’re back. And so is Joan McAlpine MSP. As I’ve said before, McAlpine’s column in the Daily Record rewards careful attention, not least because it is a nationalist beach-head in hostile territory. Moreover, it is a weekly demonstration of how at least one influential nationalist thinks the SNP can appeal to working-class voters, principally but not exclusively in west-central Scotland. It is rarely, I confess, a pretty sight but

Steerpike

Johann Hari’s apology gets lost in the post

Over the pond journalists are one by one being accused of plagiarism, while here our old friend Johann Hari popped back up on my radar. Though the Indy columnist was eventually disgraced for conducting mythical interviews, he never properly addressed other accusations of smearing rivals and colleagues on Wikipedia and in comment sections across the internet. But has he finally apologised to Cristina Odone, one of his more unfortunate victims? She certainly deserves an apology given Hari’s alter ego David Rose falsely accused her of anti-semitism and homophobia. According to Guardian columnist Patrick Strudwick, she has finally received one. While berating journalists for keeping pressure on Hari to own up,

Isabel Hardman

The economy needs more than the Olympics to perk it up

We won’t know the economic impact of the Olympics until the GDP figures for the third quarter of this year are released, but today both Boris Johnson and Downing Street tried to strike an upbeat note. In his Telegraph column, the Mayor of London writes: ‘As we marvel at what they have done, and the general success of the Games so far, I want to issue a general word of caution to the Olympo-sceptics, who will be itching to return to their gripes. They will say there will be no increase in sporting participation, and no economic benefits, and that we will not succeed in regenerating east London. Well, just

Rod Liddle

The Olympic show is over

I have hugely enjoyed the French verdict on London 2012: the whole thing was botched and all our athletes cheated. They really are the most ghastly people. The only positive thing about France, on a personal note, is that if the country did not exist I would have been more likely to have been in favour of the EU and the single currency. In the end I thought the whole shebang was rather wonderful, despite having carped and cavilled in the days before it started, and fleeing the country for the first week or so. My only quibble is that the closing ceremony, with a couple of notable exceptions, doused

Freddy Gray

Risky Ryan will give Romney’s campaign the pep it needs

Paul Ryan is a solid if not sensational choice for the Vice Presidency – a reverse Sarah Palin, if you will. I know, I know, he is meant to be a gamble, but all Veep nominations are gambles. Ryan may not be deemed a ‘safe pick’ in the Tim Pawlenty mould, but a safe pick would actually have been risky for Romney, whose campaign is in dire need of conservative pep. Ryan is, as everybody keeps pointing out, a fiscal hawk. And he’s not just grandstanding against deficits. He means it. He was interested in reforming – and bringing down the cost of – American healthcare before the row over

Fraser Nelson

An Olympic triumph

What a superb closing Olympic ceremony. Normally, government chokes the life out of any arts project it takes on and I’d expected the Olympic Stadium ceremonies to be the Millennium Dome Live. How wrong I was. The gathering of the thousands of athletes reprised the theme of the opening ceremony: that this is about people, not a massive Chinese-style display of state power. And the concert was not about musical purity but entertainment, of which there was plenty – from the Spice Girls’ surprisingly strong performance to the Boris Dancing (now trending on Twitter as #BorisBoogie). There was, or course, plenty I could have done without. George Michael’s dire new single. Beady Eye’s

Ross Clark

Sinophobia, the last acceptable racism

The Chinese have excelled at London 2012, much to the annoyance of their Western rivals. In this week’s issue of the Spectator, Ross Clark argues that the claims against swimmer Ye Shiwen reflect irrational suspicion of her country. Here is an edited version of Ross’s article (you can read the full version here): The story of London 2012 has been that of a country which was once an underachiever in the Olympics but which, through sheer hard work on the part of its athletes, has hauled itself to the top of the medals tables, producing in the process one of the most dramatic world records in Olympic history. I refer,

Fraser Nelson

Chariots of fire

When the contestants were lining up for last night’s sensational 5,000 metre race, both of the American contestants waited until the cameras were on them, then crossed themselves and held their hands in prayer. It’s quite some sight to secular Brits, where religious language (even ‘God bless’) and mannerisms have dropped out of our national life and vocabulary. But to quite a few of the Olympians, their faith is of crucial importance, which we have seen this year through their Twitter feeds. Mo Farah, a Muslim, prayed on the track after winning both of his Golds. After Usain Bolt broke the Olympic record for the 100 metres, he did likewise.

Political games

Whilst everybody is enjoying the spectacle of the greatest Games on earth there is one group of people who are doing their level best to spoil it. If there was a gold medal for petty political nitpicking up there on the podium would be the anti-independence politicians and commentators. In rhetoric reminiscent of Labour claims that devolution would kill the SNP ‘stone dead’, time and again over the last two weeks we have heard claims the SNP are opposed to Team GB and that every medal marks a death blow to Scottish independence aspirations. They condemn the Scottish Government for wishing our Scottish athletes well. They then criticise us when

Diary – 11 August 2012

Omigosh I don’t know why I allowed myself to go in for this one. It is Tuesday afternoon, I am trying to complete a Spectator Olympic diary, and it will be a triumph of speed and nerve. I have three speeches to write, half an hour till deadline, and I can see the great Fraser Nelson’s number flashing up on my Nokia as I sit in the stalls of the Velodrome desperately scribbling on my programme. The crowd is going totally ape. The noise is so loud I feel like one of those heavy metal fans that used to crawl into the bass speaker and die of decibelic exposure. They

Charles Moore

The Spectator’s Notes | 11 August 2012

Departing as Conservative MP for Corby, Louise Mensch writes a ‘letter of resignation’ to the Prime Minister. Why? Being an MP is not a government post: she is not a minister. An MP should write to his or her constituents and/or the chairman of the constituency association. It is constitutionally wrong for Mrs Mensch to write to Mr Cameron, except perhaps a private note of apology for inflicting a by-election on his party.  But the fact that she did write such a letter accurately reflects why she is an MP. David Cameron made her one, through his A-list system of imposing preferred candidates. Her departure exposes the dangers of this

High life | 11 August 2012

Gstaad If the London Olympics do not go down in history as the Crying Games, I will perform a sex act on Vladimir Putin in Piccadilly Circus as the clock strikes 12 next New Year’s Eve. Olympic winners’ tears made the place look like Niagara Falls at times, and with the floods up in Scotland I feared for the safety of cattle and other animals. Winners cried much more than losers, which makes the Devil laugh, according to an old proverb, and makes me wonder what is happening to the Brits. Take, for example, the lightweight women’s double skulls. The event was won convincingly by two nice British girls who

Toby Young

The rules of middle-class camping

I’ve just returned from a middle-class camping holiday. I don’t mean one of those camping weekends that doubles as a literary festival, like Port Eliot in Cornwall. I mean I’ve just spent three nights at a campsite that is middle-class all year round. Blackberry Wood in Sussex is about ten miles from Brighton and while there isn’t actually a sign on the gate saying ‘No Riff Raff’, you’re very much in BBC1 sitcom territory circa 1976. I kept expecting to bump into Margo and Jerry in the washing-up area. As you’d expect, there are numerous rules of etiquette that aren’t written down anywhere but are religiously observed. Personal computers, for

Tanya Gold

Quarter-pounders with guilt

The McDonald’s in the Olympic Park has 1,500 seats and is the biggest McDonald’s on earth. Let us ignore the cognitive dissonance of McDonald’s sponsoring the Olympics because we have screamed about that. Let us forget other complaints about the Olympics because, with many golds won by Team GB (an acronym that comes with its own nationalist resurgence and exclamation mark), there is obviously no better way to spend our GNP than on making people run around in circles very fast. Except this is a very self-hating McDonald’s which seems entirely in denial about being a McDonald’s. It could even, apart from the golden arches and the uniforms and the

Low life | 11 August 2012

I was staying on Dartmoor at an old farmstead in an overgrown meadow next to a fast-flowing river. We built a fire by the river and sat around it on kitchen chairs drinking and talking. There was no phone signal, no radio, no internet, no telly, nothing. We didn’t even have music. For two days and nights we heard only the sound of rushing water and sometimes wind in the trees. Wonderful it was to leave the tyrant iPhone on a windowsill to gather pollen and a cat’s dusty paw print. I was so relaxed by the end I was horizontal. On the third day, a Saturday, I’d promised to

Long life | 11 August 2012

The difference between the mood before the Olympic Games and the one after their first week was enormous. The earlier mood was one of gloom and foreboding; the subsequent one of festive exuberance and goodwill. During my visits to London from Northamptonshire during the weeks before the Queen’s encounter with James Bond I found nothing but anxiety and resentment. Taxi drivers in particular were surly and despondent; one told me he had yet to meet a fellow driver that was anything other than furious and resentful about the prospective traffic disruption and the loss of business about to be caused by the provision of private limousines to thousands of corrupt

Dear Mary | 11 August 2012

Q. I own a house in west London and my drawing-room window gives on to a pedestrian-only bottleneck where people hang around to smoke. Sometimes these are well-known and interesting figures who are on their way to a nearby newspaper office and I feel it would be fun to exchange a few words with them. Any suggestions as to how I can do this without appearing stalker-like, Mary? — Name withheld, London W8 A. Train a climbing plant, such as jasmine, up the front of your house so that you can go out and tend to it when you spot a particularly appealing smoker outside. In this way an informal

Real life | 11 August 2012

The phantom car accident injury claim is progressing. Aviva has just rung me with big news. About time. It is now eight months since I sparked the insurance claim from hell by pranging into the back of the car in front whilst in a traffic queue moving at 3mph. Despite the fact that neither car has so much as a scratch on a bumper, my no-claims bonus has been suspended since then, my premium has more than trebled and I’ve had to ditch the new Volvo and buy a car with an engine the size of a hairdryer. I’ve given a three-hour statement to investigators; I’ve been the subject of