KENNETH ROY
argues that David Cameron should have been locked in a cupboard before he made a statement on the Lockerbie case
Little has been heard recently of Jimmy Boyle, but when I mentioned him in conversation with his friend and supporter Kay Carmichael a few weeks ago, she assured me that he was well, successful, and far from his native Scotland. He is quite a remote figure now, so for the benefit of those who have never heard of him, I’d better explain. Jimmy Boyle was once the most notorious criminal in Scotland, a violent product of the Glasgow slums, seemingly condemned to life in a high-security prison, until he was transferred to a reforming wing of Barlinnie known as the special unit. There, one day, a remarkable prison officer, Ken Murray, handed Jimmy Boyle a knife. In that moment of mutual trust, Jimmy’s life was transformed. He became a sculptor, a fine one; and someone (I think Richard Demarco) staged an exhibition of his work in an Edinburgh gallery. I persuaded the BBC to do a short film about this remarkable event before it opened to the public.
Everything that could go wrong technically did go wrong. A shoot that would normally have taken an hour at most dragged out across the frustrating morning until finally we had it in the can. It was years later that I discovered the hidden sub-text: the prison authorities had decided to let Jimmy Boyle out for the day – it was his first taste of freedom after years of incarceration – on the same day that I had arranged with the gallery to film the exhibition. Fearful of the public reaction if his day release became known to the media, the authorities resorted to a desperate expedient. While the BBC was filming, Jimmy Boyle would be kept safely out of sight, locked in a cupboard. Quite a large cupboard, it seems; but a cupboard nevertheless. No one, however, could have predicted that the BBC would be quite so inept and be hanging around so long.
The story of Jimmy Boyle and his cupboard, when at last divulged to me by a friend at St Andrew’s House, was not only deeply embarrassing but, of course, a rather sad metaphor. Having been promised a brief glimpse of freedom, he found himself, thanks to me, promptly imprisoned again. Yet, although I wouldn’t have wanted it to happen to Jimmy Boyle, I have come to believe that there is a case for locking well-known figures in a cupboard until the media have gone. There would certainly have been a case for locking the leader of the Conservative party, David Cameron, in a cupboard last Thursday.
I watched Kenny MacAskill’s now famous speech on BBC News 24. Whatever one thinks of its content and conclusions, it was one of the more compelling political statements of recent times. It was also of the greatest importance. Yet the restless imagery of digital communication could not be still for even a second. When the Scottish justice secretary had finished, literally within seconds of his finishing, an urgent new message flashed across the screen. ‘David Cameron says the release of the Lockerbie bomber is wrong’, said the message. Back in Edinburgh, Mr MacAskill was preparing to answer his first question from the media.
Had the leader of the opposition actually listened to the speech? Had he given it even that basic courtesy before responding? Perhaps; if there are a few scraps of doubt still lying around, I am prepared to give Mr Cameron the benefit of them. But there was no maturity in such an immediate response; there was not so much as the hint of a case; there was simply a crude assertion unsupported by argument. You have heard of speed dating. This was a dreadful example of speed reacting.
Mr Cameron, in his dealings with the media, is advised by a former editor of the News of the World. It is possible that, in this case, he was advised to get in there fast and get in there tough. In the old cowboy movies, they killed first and talked later, if they talked at all. This is broadly the technique being employed by modern political operators. In the relatively dignified days of the sound bite, there was usually a brief interval between the occurrence and the crass topline utterance in response to it, but even the interval has been dispensed with. There is no time for reflection at all now.
Had David Cameron been unavoidably detained in a cupboard for a few hours, he would not have been first in the queue of all those instantly condemning the release of the man commonly known as the Lockerbie bomber; he would have lost that vital pace deemed necessary for electoral success. Instead he would have had time at his disposal – time to reflect on what he had just heard; time to compose a considered reply to Mr MacAskill’s statement; time to employ in its composition what used to be known and revered as the English language rather than the political equivalent of text-speak. This more philosophical approach to politics used to be called statesmanlike. No one is statesmanlike any longer. No one has the time. But then no one is locked in a cupboard for a whole morning while the BBC films some sculptures.
This time next year, the leader of the Conservative party will probably be Prime Minister; this morning’s opinion polls suggest that he is heading for outright victory. He has promised a calmer approach to the media, with less reliance on the black arts of spin. There is no evidence that, in this matter at least, he means what he says. He shoots from the hip as ruthlessly as any; he may not be nearly as nice as he seems. The present Prime Minister, on the other hand, has been hiding in the cupboard for five days and shows no inclination to emerge blinking into the sunlight with a statement on Lockerbie. Spending too much time in the cupboard is as harmful to political credibility as spending no time at all.
25 August
31.08.09
Issue no 133
THE BBC AND
KENNY MacASKILL
Kenneth Roy
Can the public service
broadcaster be trusted?
[click here]
THE LOCKERBIE FILE
Recently in SR
In the interests of justice
28 August
[click here]
Die or else
27 August
[click here]
The changing mood
26 August
[click here]
Speed reacting
25 August
[click here]
The weekend of unreason
24 August
[click here]
Marina and her sister
21 August
[click here]
Why Megrahi will be missed
20 August
[click here]
Obstruction of justice?
13 August
[click here]
GALLERY
Contemporary Scottish art
Michael Murray:
The Hidden Lane
[click here]
In view of the continuing political crisis in Scotland, SR continues to publish daily for the time being
