The Spectator

Tell you what Mrs Clooney. If Greece repays its $240 billion EU loan, we’ll return the Marbles

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Hollywood has a reputation for creating trite storylines in which either a lawyer is cast as the hero or England as the villain. Its latest epic has both, and this one is reality. Little more than a week after her marriage to George Clooney, the world’s most photographed barrister, Amal Alamuddin -Clooney, has flown off to advise the Greek government on how to force the removal of the Elgin Marbles from the British Museum. Given the rioting, economic meltdown and general chaos of recent years, it would be easy to think that Greece had more immediate worries than the whereabouts of a set of decorative stones rescued in the early 19th century — with permission from authorities in Athens — to save them from being chiselled away by peasants for -quicklime.

Podcast: Tory-Ukip relations, terrorist negotiations and Brighton’s Green problems

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In this week’s issue, Lord Pearson, the former leader of Ukip, describes how he tried to offer the Tories a pact before the last general election, but Cameron refused to  meet with him to discuss it.  Now it's too late, says Lord Pearson, and Cameron has forced Ukip to fight him to the end. Lord Pearson and Damian Green, the Conservative MP for Ashford, join Lara Prendergast on the podcast to discuss relations between the Tories and Ukip. Should we ever negotiate with the Islamic State? Jonathan Powell has recently suggested we should consider it. Jenny McCartney takes issue with his stance though.

The Spectator at war: Making heavy weather for the enemy

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From The Spectator, 17 October 1914: In view of the possibilities, naval and aerial, we cannot help thinking that it would be a good thing if our newspapers suppressed the weather forecasts and all information as to barometrical pressure, which are very probably communicated by wireless to our enemies. These forecasts are now exceedingly accurate, and we can well understand how useful it might be to the enemy to know what kind of weather they might expect when they reached British air. If the authorities think there is anything in the point, they will no doubt take it up. We feel perfectly sure that there will be no annoyance expressed either on the part of the Press or of the general public if they are deprived of weather forecasts.

From the archives | 16 October 2014

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From ‘War and wild life’, The Spectator, 17 October 1914: The siege of Antwerp has been a minor tragedy in a quarter to which few probably gave a thought. The authorities of the Antwerp Zoological Gardens, before the bombardment began, felt compelled to destroy all the dangerous animals in their cages. They could not contemplate the possibility of beasts of prey loose in the streets; a stray shell would break the bars of the strongest enclosure, and the Zoological Gardens are situated near one of the important railway stations, which would naturally attract the fire of cannon.

The Spectator’s portrait of the week

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Home Checks began at British airports for passengers who might have come from west Africa with Ebola fever (even though there are no direct flights from the countries most affected). People who rang 111 with suspicious symptoms were to be asked whether they’d come from a high-risk country. Police arrested three men and three women from Portsmouth, Farnborough and Greenwich as part of an anti-terrorism operation. Of five men arrested the week before, two were released. The trial began before a jury at the Old Bailey of Erol Incedal on charges of preparing for acts of terrorism; parts of it will be held in secret.

The Spectator at war: The companionship of the pen

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From The Spectator, 17 September 1914: THE long periods of darkness and absence of all direct news which add to the gloom of this war are illuminated by the flashlights of soldiers' letters. Letters of the deepest interest have, as we all know, enthralled public attention; but these are of course picked letters. The letters and postcards which come from the mass of soldiers tell nothing of general interest, nothing which could enable any one to picture any corner of the great war, or to share any of the emotions which must possess the souls of those firing and under fire. No hint of patriotic purpose finds expression in them; battle, murder, and sudden death are hardly alluded to, much less described, by the men in their midst; and the golden illusion of glory is not so much as named.

The Spectator at war: Aerial warfare | 14 October 2014

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From The Spectator, 17 October 1914: Last Sunday another aeroplane attack was made upon Paris. It appears that no fewer than five aeroplanes were concerned in the raid, and that twenty bombs were dropped, killing four persons and injuring twenty-two. One of the bombs fell upon the roof of the church of Notre Dame, and was at first supposed not to have exploded. Later reperts, however, showed that it burst and set a beam on fire, though fortunately no serious damage resulted. On the following day a further attack was made by a single aeroplane, which dropped six bombs, without, however, doing any appreciable mischief. It is extremely difficult to understand what advantages the German military authorities hope to gain from such exploits as these.

The Spectator at war: The Canadians are coming

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From The Spectator, 17 October 1914: To all British people here and overseas by far the most delightful news of the week is that of the landing of the Canadian contingent at Plymouth on Wednesday afternoon. As may be imagined, the reception given to the Canadian troops was of the heartiest, and the Canadians will know that it was no mere local outburst of enthusiasm. At this moment there is a sense of pride in and gratitude towards the Dominion in the heart of every British man and woman in the country. We should be stone if we were not touched by a pledge "fraught with a pathos so magnificent." The coming of the Canadians would be notable if there were nothing more behind it, but we all know that there are a hundred thousand men behind it, and "more if necessary.

The Spectator at war: Unnatural selection

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From The Spectator, 10 October 1914: [TO THE EDITOR OF THE "SPECTATOR."] SIR,—It is a self-evident proposition that an army recruited by voluntary enlistment is, caeteris paribus, more efficient than one compulsorily obtained. It is also true, though not so self-evident, that voluntaryism must in the end deleteriously affect national character far more than compulsory service does. Under a voluntary system it is only the men with the most grit in them who usually offer themselves for service. Those of less sterling quality, potential or actual, refrain. Thus, in time of war, the nation which fights with a voluntary army suffers from a higher rate of mortality amongst the best male elements in its community than does the nation which resorts to compulsory service.

The Spectator at war: At loggerheads

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From The Spectator, 10 October 1914: AN old explanation of the phrase "at loggerheads"—whether true or not we do not attempt to say—runs as follows: When two armies met in what we should now call entrenched positions, those positions were spoken of as leaguers. The leaguers were pushed on, from both sides just as the trenches are now pushed on, till at last the " leaguer-heads" were almost in contact, and were separated only by a hundred yards or so. The contending armies were then said to be at "leaguer-heads," or "logger-heads." They had reached the ultimate point, and could make faces or shout defiance at each other across the "bridge of war.

Podcast special: The Ukip earthquake

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Ukip has arrived at Westminster. Douglas Carswell held his Clacton seat after defecting from the Conservatives, and in Heywood and Middleton Ukip came just 617 votes short of victory. Which was the more startling result, and what does it all mean for the parties' chances at the general election?

The Spectator at war: Knowing one’s place

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From The Spectator, 10 October 1914: As we go on in life we do, as a rule, learn our place more or less truly, and we find it is not the one we should have chosen. It may not be lower, but it is almost certainly different from what we expected. As we look over the lists of life's examinations we may find that in some subjects we have done better than we expected. In such-and-such a bad situation we came out fairly well perhaps. We showed judgment, or initiative, or endurance, or even self-sacrifice. But, good heavens, what an effort it was! and how nearly we failed! What a little there was to choose between us and some one who has found his own place much lower down!