Society

We all know what we think. Week in, week out, we hear what the British view of the war in Iraq is, and the polls tell us that we are becoming ever more sceptical. We know what the Americans think. We know what the French think of it all (not a lot). Now, for the first time, we have a scientific attempt to survey the opinion of the people whose country was fought over, and in whose name the battle of Baghdad took place. To look at the polling returns from Iraq is frankly to have a sense of relief; relief not just that they do not all want an

It was those trips to the Balkans that started it. As we hard-core Europhobes know, one of the main joys of leaving EU Europe is that the food tastes incomparably better wherever the writ of Brussels does not extend. Although the hard-skinned, white-membraned Dutch tomato has already started to colonise the humble Skopje salad in Bulgaria — agriculture in the bread baskets of Eastern Europe is being comprehensively closed down in preparation for EU membership — there are still pockets of resistance south of the Danube, particularly in the former Yugoslavia, where a cucumber does not taste the same as a carrot. There, I consume vegetables with something bordering on

Peter Kellner analyses the first systematic opinion poll of Iraq, and finds a population full of anxiety — but also convinced that war has made their future brighter Baghdad is on a knife edge. Three in four of its residents say the city is now more dangerous than when Saddam Hussein was in power. Two in three fear being attacked in the street. Most think that we went to war to grab Iraq’s oil and/or to help Israel. Yet despite these deep concerns, only a minority oppose the American and British invasion, and as few as one in eight want the invaders to leave the country straight away. They want

The interests of Englishmen are not threatened with impunity: and the danger of molesting them does not disclose itself till the threat has been uttered, and their enmity has been irrevocably incurred. They have a habit of sleeping up to the very moment of danger, which is equally embarrassing to their champions and their assailants. So wrote Lord Salisbury in 1873. He was echoed a century later by Enoch Powell, who observed that one of the ‘peculiar faults’ of the English was their ‘strange passivity in the face of danger or absurdity or provocation’. The question which ought now to be troubling Tony Blair, but almost certainly isn’t, is whether

Oscar’s play (I was there on Saturday) strikes me as a mixture that will run…though infantine to my sense…There is so much drollery – that is, ‘cheeky’ paradoxical wit of dialogue, and the pit and the gallery are so pleased at finding themselves clever enough to ‘catch on’ to four or five of the ingenious – too ingenious – mots in the dozen, that it makes them feel quite decadent and raffiné …The ‘impudent’ speech at the end was simply inevitable mechanical Oscar – I mean the usual trick of saying the unusual… How about that for a piece of lese-majesty. Few would dare write it about St Oscar today,

Whether we like it or not, says Leo McKinstry, regional government is already here – and it is expensive, absurd and undemocratic Expanding bureaucracy is the hallmark of the government. Since the 1997 election, there has been a deluge of expensive new bodies, from the Scottish Parliament to the General Teaching Council. Thanks to Labour, Britain is awash with publicly funded apparatchiks and well-heeled paper-shufflers. We are drowning in action plans, strategy documents, task forces, co-ordination units, forums, commissions, programmes, tsars and mayors. But perhaps the most wasteful, offensive – and ultimately sinister – aspect of Labour’s mania for organisational growth appears not at Westminster, but at a regional level.