Society

Saturday

Interconnect

A terrible beauty reborn

‘We are very proud of Amir Temur,’ the Uzbek ambassador to the Court of St James’s told Justin Marozzi. ‘We do not call him Tamerlane.’ Nevertheless this is the title of Marozzi’s biography, and perhaps the publishers insisted it be marketed as Tamerlane, which is Temur-i-Lan or Temur the Lame, the name Amir Temur not being immediately recognisable. But clearly to style him Tamerlane is like calling Richard III ‘Crouchback’ or ‘Crookback’. Temur has been neglected by western European historians. This is not surprising when you think that until quite recently Byzantium was terra incognita even to those graduating with degrees in history from good universities. So for us Temur

Peter Oborne

How Labour ministers lie about the world and their opponents

One of the key reasons why New Labour has been successful for so long is its ability to destroy or marginalise opponents. The techniques used are ruthless. Those who challenge government orthodoxy are smeared, discredited and rubbished as liars. Their motives are questioned and their characters assassinated. Normally, in the quotidian frenzy of political debate, there is no time to examine how ministers construct their arguments. Life moves on, the smears and falsehoods remain hanging in the air. But this month, while Westminster is quiet and the main characters absent, there is an ideal opportunity for a leisurely examination of New Labour at work. The last week has provided two

The Spectator

Close of play

That England should have a 3–0 lead in the present Test cricket series against West Indies is something that, only a few years ago, would have exceeded the most insane expectations of its supporters. In great measure the success is down to the discovery of excellent talent — Flintoff, Strauss and Key notably — and to the maturing of some older ones, such as Thorpe and Giles. But a significant part of England’s success has been the dismal and gutless way in which our once formidable opponents have now started to play the game of which they were — recently — not only the premier exponents, but also the leading

John McEwen

Scotland’s Italian connection

John McEwen applauds the ‘Age of Titian’ in Edinburgh, and other Festival treats Sir Timothy Clifford celebrates the completion of the Playfair Project, uniting the 19th-century architect William Playfair’s two art temples on Edinburgh’s Mound, with an exhibition that is both a witty deceit and appropriately self-congratulatory. The Project gives Edinburgh an ‘exhibition complex’ that vies for charm and technological sophistication with any in the world. Obviously, the show celebrating such a milestone had to be something special: a ‘blockbuster’ that would not only attract sponsorship and pull in the punters, but would also draw specific attention to the significance of the Project. And, because all the money has not

Ella Windsor

American food sucks

Ella Windsor says that if you don’t like pigging out, you won’t much enjoy eating in the US, where The Cheesecake Factory serves portions big enough to kill an ox My American friends in England never stop complaining about the food here. It’s all ‘gloopy’, they say, and they bitch about the warm beer, grey curries and unidentifiable soups. Sometimes their longing for US comfort food — beefburgers, hotdogs, cookies, tacos and dairy queen ice cream — becomes so strong that some of them even resort to a company called the Food Ferry, a British Internet site that delivers Skippy Peanut Butter, beef jerky and Oreo cookies. My solution is

David Davis

Victim nation

The compensation culture costs Britain £10 billion a year. David Davis blames the human rights industry One hardly knows where to start. The teacher who won £55,000 from the taxpayer because she slipped on a chip. The parents of the Girl Guide who won £3,500 after singeing her fingers cooking sausages. The prisoner who successfully sued the government when he fell off the roof while trying to escape. The 200 travellers who were granted retrospective planning permission to set up a permanent camp on the edge of a small village because they had a ‘right to family life’. The serial murderer who successfully demanded the delivery of hard-core pornography to

Rod Liddle Rod Liddle

Let’s go nuclear

I am not sure whether it is a good thing or a bad thing that there is almost no oil left anywhere in the world. Out of a sort of childish spite, one is obviously delighted that soon enough countries like Saudi Arabia will have nothing with which to hold the world to ransom. And nothing has caused more environmental damage to our planet than the consumption of hydrocarbons (except maybe that comet which allegedly wiped out the dinosaurs). On the other hand, I am not sure that I wish my children to experience a rapid return to the Stone Age — which will be their future unless we begin

Friday

Charles Spencer

Diary – 20 August 2004

Summertime, and the house is open. Often people ask me what it is like having your home ‘invaded’ by the public. Well, it all comes down to attitude. If you see the approach of a coach, and the theme tune of Mastermind — ‘Approaching Menace’ — starts to well up in your brain, then you really should absent yourself from proceedings. If, however, you and those working with you can give a genuine welcome, then happiness is transmitted and received. Also, so many come who have their personal connections to Althorp: the centurion who was a housemaid to my great-grandfather, yet who had never before been allowed through the front

Saturday

Dot Wordsworth

Mind Your Language | 14 August 2004

I’m sure I can’t remember hearing it used wrongly before, and now I’ve heard it twice in a fortnight from politicians. Perhaps they catch it from each other. The phrase in question is in extremis and it has been used as if it meant ‘extremely’ or ‘in extreme circumstances’. In truth it means ‘on the point of death’, as the OED records. The earliest citation is from 1530, in a letter to Cardinal Wolsey about the Dean of St Paul’s, who was on his way out. Well, that is the earliest citation in English, as it were, though it has long been used in Latin with this meaning. The same

Taki

Elephant in the room

Gstaad Sorry to bore you, but more about Poles. In all the years I’ve been writing ‘High life’, no column of mine has had such a positive response as ‘Pole position’, of three weeks ago, which is a record for yours truly. Poles in general and Taki in particular are not everyone’s favourites, but this time it seems we’re suddenly the cat’s whiskers. Even here in Gstaad, the Mecca of the nouveaux riches and almost-famous, people have come up to me and thanked me for writing that the Poles are the best and bravest people in Europe. (I thank everyone who has written so kindly, especially Andrej Zatuski, who enclosed

The Spectator

Portrait of the Week – 14 August 2004

More than 140 cockle-pickers were rescued four miles from shore on the sands of Morecambe Bay after the tractors of two rival gangs collided. Four rowers attempting to break the west-east Atlantic crossing record were rescued on the 39th day after huge waves split their boat 300 miles off the Isles of Scilly. Five British men, five Portuguese and two Belgians diving in the Red Sea off Egypt were rescued, with the help of friendly dolphins, after a 13-hour search when they were swept 45 miles away from their boat. Mr Michael Howard, the Leader of the Opposition, said that police should not waste time recording the race of everyone

The Spectator

Feedback | 14 August 2004

Pole position As Simon Heffer says (‘It’s time to move on’, 7 August), there is no earthly reason why Britain should apologise to Poland for not doing more to help the Poles during the Warsaw uprising. Nor could Britain’s ally the United States have done anything. Prime Minister Belka thinks that Churchill should have dispatched Free Polish troops to help the insurgents under Komorowski-B

Mary Killen

Your Problems Solved | 14 August 2004

Dear Mary… Q. What is the correct attitude to strike when a friend regularly inquires whether one has read the latest issue of The Spectator, the purpose of the inquiry being to draw one’s attention to correspondence from that person in the issue in question? As the friendship is dear, I would welcome your advice on a suitable, gentle put-down.J.V.B., St Peter Port, Guernsey A. This all sounds very Pooterish and I am tempted to tick you off for mean-spiritedness. However, you may have supplied me with insufficient detail, so I will give you the benefit of the doubt. Why not reply with enthusiasm, ‘Yes, and I saw your letter

George Osborne

While England sleeps

This week an unusual piece of junk mail joined the forest of pizza delivery leaflets and minicab cards on my doormat. It was a white envelope marked with six chunky coloured circles under which was written: ‘Inside: Important Information from HM Government’. I assumed the ‘important information’ would be that I had been specially selected to win a prize draw and almost threw it away. In fact it turned out to be a leaflet from something called the National Steering Committee on Warning and Informing the Public telling me ‘What to do in an Emergency’. This mysterious Committee obviously didn’t want to alarm anyone by telling them what the ‘emergency’

Matthew Parris Matthew Parris

The truth about journalism is that almost none of it keeps

Unless I am much mistaken, obituarists and tribute-writers have this week been poring over the Fleet Street archives, beset by a difficulty as unexpected as it has been puzzling. We have been looking for brilliant, extended passages of the late Bernard Levin’s writing to offer modern readers a sample (and older readers a reminder) of the work of a man who we all agree was one of the 20th century’s greatest British columnists. We remember his greatness. We recall the thrill as Bernard laid into the idiots and idiocies of the age. How we wished we’d said that! How we wished we had his courage, his effrontery, his learning, his

Peter Oborne

The best news for Michael Howard is that Blair has decided to fight the next election

On Monday, just as people settled down for the summer holidays, Michael Howard returned from his. He slipped back into Britain and at once set to work. He is already two thirds of the way through the probable term of his leadership. Just eight months remain until the general election, most likely to be called in May. So this may be Howard’s only summer as Tory leader, and he is determined not to waste a moment. There have been mutterings against Michael Howard in the past few weeks, but no one can challenge the dedication, commitment and passion that this battle-hardened 63-year-old brings to his job. This month, as Tony

The Spectator

First gold to Greece

Dick Pound, a senior member of the International Olympic Committee, speaks for many when he says of the Greeks: ‘They think things being ready at 11:59 is plenty of time. It drives the rest of the world nuts.’ It has become commonplace over the past months to portray the modernday Greeks as unworthy inheritors of the ancient civilisation with which they share their name. The Athens Olympics would never be ready on time, it was said with confidence, or if they were the stadium would have no roof and runners would choke to death on the city’s notorious traffic fumes. If the word ma

Andrew Lambirth

Postcards from the South Seas

If you consult The Yale Dictionary of Art & Artists on the subject of William Hodges, the brief entry will inform you that he was a British landscape painter, pupil of Richard Wilson ‘and his most accomplished imitator’, and that not finding success in London he joined Captain Cook’s second voyage to the South Pacific as official landscape artist. That was in 1772–5. From 1780 to 1784 he was in India, and in 1790 he visited Russia. ‘Hodges’, we are told, ‘skilfully adapted Wilson’s technique and rules of composition to exotic material, while maintaining an air of documentary fidelity.’ I am a seasoned admirer of Yale’s Dictionary, expertly compiled by

Benet Simon

Ban this evil rag!

The last time I visited my cousins — three boys between the ages of eight and 13 — they were playing a new video game that their mother had bought for them. The eight-year-old had hooked the computer up to an overhead projector and was cruising city streets in an enormous tank, pausing occasionally to point a flame-thrower in the direction of passing pedestrians, policemen and prostitutes and burning them to death. The game was Grand Theft Auto 2, the creation of a company called Rockstar, and it is at the centre of a $246 million lawsuit in the US, accused of provoking teenagers to real-life violence. Making sure that

Katharine Whitehorn

Bernard Levin remembered

I knew Bernard Levin when we both worked on The Spectator at the end of the Fifties, during its uncharacteristically radical period. He wrote a parliamentary sketch under the name of Taper, and was about the first to treat the political scene as theatre — and amateur theatre at that — rather than a court of high seriousness, though the idea of doing it that way came from the editor, Brian Inglis. Bernard called it ‘the principle that you mainly record the slipping false teeth of those with whose views you disagree’. Inglis, the man who invented the phrase ‘fringe medicine’, had plucked Bernard from the magazine Truth, where he