Rod Liddle

You may remember that in February the BBC found itself in a spot of bother regarding a film about the conflict in Gaza which, it transpired, had been narrated by the son of a Hamas minister. Some people, not least Jewish people, wondered if such an account perhaps might accidentally stray into the realms of partisanship, and the BBC was forced to withdraw the documentary forthwith. It then commissioned an internal report into why this young lad had been chosen to front the film, rather than, say, Rylan Clark or Clare Balding. As a consequence of the investigation, the BBC’s head of news, Deborah Turness, sent a round robin email to all BBC staff. Only now, nearly nine months later, can I reveal the disturbing truth about what Ms Turness told her colleagues.

Sarah Pochin’s gonna take a lot of coachin’. You can’t just turn up on the telly and say you’re sick of all the blacks everywhere. And the Asians. Un-accountably, perhaps, you will be accused of racism, the definition of the term having been extended rather further than my interpretation: to discriminate against an individual on the grounds of his or her race. There will be outrage among the deluded; there will be faux outrage among the opportunistic. Your own party leader will slap you down by saying, in effect: ‘Well, she’s right, obvs, but you can’t say stuff like that.’ And her own leader is not wrong. The Overton window may have shifted but it hasn’t yet been smashed.

Contrary to what I had expected, the Oxford Union president-elect, George Abaraonye, lost his vote of no confidence by a whopping margin and will now have to resign. More than 70 per cent of Union members voted for the semi-literate, dreadlocked leftie to lose his job following his apparent delight at the murder of Charlie Kirk. Intimidation and hostility was reported as his supporters sought to disrupt proceedings by hampering the work of the returning officer and Abaraonye, in the manner of a presidential candidate who has been defeated in a general election in a country composed largely of what we are now enjoined to call the global majority, refused to accept the verdict. The ballot was, however, marvellously conclusive – 1,228 out of the 1,746 who voted said he should go.

It is more than nine years since I was suspended by the Labour party for – I think – a comment I made about Palestine. I had written: ‘If you handed over Israel to the Palestinians they would turn it into Somalia before you could say Yom Kippur.’ I remember having worried about the sentence a little – not because of its meaning, but because I wasn’t sure that ‘Yom Kippur’ was quite right in that context. I thought, and still do, that ‘Allahu akbar!’ might be better, but there we are. Anyway it was either that or a following sentence where I wrote: ‘For many Muslims the anti-Semitism is visceral, an ingrained part of their unpleasant ideology.

How important do you think it is to know what the Church of England thought about that ‘Unite the Kingdom’ march in London two weeks ago? There is a very good argument for saying it is about as meaningful and relevant as finding out what Bonnie Blue, that young lady touring the country flat on her back and welcoming anyone who fancies a bit of frictionless poking, thinks about the fractious border dispute between Thailand and Cambodia. There are many institutions in this country that are irrelevant to the great mass of citizens, but few more resolutely so than our established Church.

I used to volunteer at a wildlife sanctuary, counting sheep and goats on an agreeable patch of chalk downland in Kent. On hot days the goats would hide in the dense, cool woodland and it could take a long time to find them. Occasionally they broke out of the reserve because our gates were of poor quality, so I was delighted to see one morning that new gates had been installed, shiny metal ones. When I got up close, though, there was a surprise in store. All of the new gates were adorned with a picture of a woman in a burka and an injunction to abide by the Countryside Code. This struck me as peculiar, not to say borderline Islamophobic. We had never experienced trouble with Muslim women ignoring the Countryside Code.

I don’t quite see the point of flying Union flags in Tower Hamlets, or complaining about it when the council takes them down. This squalid little fiefdom run by the deeply corrupt Lutfur Rahman is not part of the UK: it is a suburb of Sylhet, with all that such a location might entail. This would include the mayor himself, who once rigged the votes and used imams to intimidate voters. Of course it is true that London is headed the same way as Tower Hamlets and will get there depressingly soon, an upheaval aided by the self-flagellating liberals who still choose to live in the capital and whose yearning for self-annihilation is close to absolute. The temptation is to write off our first city, and maybe others, too, come to that.

A familiar cliché, which in history has been disproved time and again, is that a police force cannot operate without the consent of the people. Tell that to the residents of what was once East Berlin. But that old canard raises a different problem. Which people are giving the consent? The ones who abide by the law, or the ones who are disposed to breaking it? I wondered about this when I read two stories over the weekend, both of which suggested to me that the police have long since lost the support of that first group of people, that more numerous community, the people who don’t habitually break the law.

I needed to speak, briefly, to my car insurer regarding breakdown cover. After undergoing the usual roster of DNA testing, fingerprinting, recitation of ‘familiar names’, the woman on the other end of the phone said this to me: ‘I need to ask this as well. Are you vulnerable?’ It is now six hours later and I’m still not sure what she meant. I suppose I assume it was a euphemism for: ‘Are you either mental or too thick to tie your own shoelaces?’ But it is difficult to know for sure, largely because of the shape-shifting ‘vulnerable’ has performed in recent years. When news reports, or the police, identify someone as being ‘vulnerable’, it usually means they are pig-thick or doolally.