NEVER having travelled in an ambulance before, I expected to be sped along, siren blaring, when I was taken to the hospital in Poole last Saturday. Sadly, the driver drove normally and sedately. However, there had been a bit of a drama earlier when I suddenly felt very weak at a party the lady wife had thrown on the grounds of the lovely cottage she had rented by the sea in Dorset’s unspoiled Purbeck Isle. The place is so remote that even GPS guidance systems have been baffled. So it was just as well a friend drove to the main road to guide the ambulance.
Given my chequered cardiac history, a young doctor at the party called the ambulance, even though she agreed with me that there was nothing wrong with my heart. But I did feel distinctly odd. I had picked up a viral infection during the four days I had spent in Sri Lanka, and thought I had got rid of it in my week in Karachi. But clearly, I was harbouring a hardy bug, and itlaid me low in the middle of a big party.
The rest of the evening was an education in how well Britain’s National Health Service deals with emergencies. During my uneventful drive to the hospital, the attendant demonstrated various bits of kit the ambulance carried. To my untrained eye, it was better equipped than many Pakistani hospitals; certainly, the attendant was extremely competent. At the hospital, I was taken to a clean, quiet ward where a nurse took a blood sample after noting my medical history. Luckily, I had brought some reading material as I am used to long waits in hospitals. At two in the morning, a doctor said the results of my blood tests were clear, and I could leave. Poor Ned had followed the ambulance, and had waited to drive me back. When we got home at around three, the adults had left, but scores of young people were still having a good time, judging by the noise level.
I have been taking it easy since then, and thus unable to help with the post-party clean-up, alas. Some people suspect I staged the whole drama to escape the drudgery of picking up cigarette butts, and retrieving glasses from flower beds, an allegation I strongly deny.
Remote as our location was, and despite my viral infection, there was no escaping the whole Murdoch drama that has continued to dominate the media and most conversations. Ever since the phone-hacking story broke, the allegations and the political fallout have continued growing. Every day comes with a breathless new revelation or a fresh scalp from News International.
On Saturday, every national daily in Britain carried a fulsome signed apology from Rupert Murdoch in the form of full-page ads. It begins with “We are sorry”, and contains a litany of apologies. I fear there is more abasement to come from the Murdochs: both father and son James have agreed to appear before the parliamentary committee looking into the phone-hacking scandal that has shaken British media and politics to the core. Politicians who, till a fortnight ago, would have sold their grandmothers for the chance of a few minutes with Rupert Murdoch, now vie with each other to stick a knife into the media baron. And thus it is with power: once it seeps away, the jackals surround their prey, baying for blood. Another scalp gleefully claimed is that of the tough, ambitious Rebekah Brooks, the chief executive of News International. She had been hanging on tenaciously, despite calls for her resignation from every quarter. After days of stonewalling, she has finally issued a statement, announcing that the Murdochs have now accepted her resignation.
Perhaps the most extraordinary aspect of the whole story was the police’s close links with the Murdoch newspapers. On retirement, one senior officer was hired as a columnist by the Sunday Times, despite the absence of any writing experience.
The newspaper is, of course, a star in the Murdoch stable. Returning the favour, the Metropolitan police hired a deputy editor of News of the World as a PR consultant. I suppose the police chief thought that if David Cameron could hire Andy Coulson, the ex-editor of the News of the World, as his communications director, there was nothing wrong in him hiring his deputy. But he neglected to mention this little fact to his political masters, or the parliamentary committee, and he may find he has more to answer for than he thought.
Details of cosy lunches and dinners hosted by News International for police officers have also emerged; even more damning politically are details of the PM’s extended contacts with the Murdochs and their top executives. Two months after Andy Coulson was forced to resign, David Cameron invited him to Chequers, his official country retreat. Since a police enquiry into the phone hacking scandal had begun, this invitation displays either misplaced loyalty, or a shocking lack of judgment in the Prime Minister.
Serious questions are being asked in the US, home to the holding company News Corp, about Rupert Murdoch’s corporate governance and ethics. A global media empire with revenues of over $50 billion, News Corp share-holders have seen the value of their equity eroded by over 8 per cent within a fortnight. Some of them have gone to court in a bid to oust Murdoch.
The FBI is looking into allegations that News of the World journalists might have tried to hack into the phones of 9/11 victims.
Also, if it is proved that British cops were bribed by the company, an American law banning corrupt practices by US-based firms could be invoked.
But while many are welcoming an era of clean journalism, they forget that news-gathering has often been an unpleasant business. The race for a scoop often takes participants into the gutter. When competing for readers and viewers, editors and owners are known to use means that skirt the boundary between the lawful and the illegal. I suspect it will take more than the fall of one media group to change this mindset.