Admit it: the the dream is over, the euro is on its last legs and so, sooner or later, is the whole EU ‘project’ RIP? I don’t think so. There will be one almighty blame game

The old adage runs that the secret of comedy is timing, and that is surely something the big brains in Brussels will be taking to heart when they contemplate the latest news from Greece. And that is bad. It seems the billions that were lent a while ago to help the Greeks pay the paper and electricity bills and generally sort themselves out was not enough. They now need even more euro moolah. That, of course, is bad enough for politicians Europe-wide who have to square things with the voter. I know we get the impression that politicians exist in a world of their own, making decisions about our lives without apparently a thought about consulting us, but that’s not quite true. Every few years, they are obliged to get the voter to validate their existence, and every few years the voter gives many of them a resounding raspberry.

That could well be the case, for example, in Germany, which has its next federal election in October 2013. And after losing control of the state of North-Rhine Westphalia last year, most probably because its voters were annoyed to be bailing out what the regard as feckless Greeks, Angela Merkel will not want to take any more such risks. The same will be true in other countries as politicians in all member states will balance doing the right thing for our European cousins in Greece with how best not to fuck off the electorate even more. And if push came to shove, guess who would win? But all that is merely the sideshow.

A respected German economics commentator, a chap called Peter Bofinger, has spoken for the first time about the possibility – he regards it as a probability – that the Greeks will abandon the euro and revive the drachma. You can find an account here or, for those of you who prefer to live life with rather fewer subjunctives and subordinate clauses, there is an account here from Der Spiegel which first reported Bofinger’s observation. (Incidentally, we hacks always use that trick, calling the guy or we are about to quote or write about a ‘respected’ or an ‘eminent’ or something along those lines – it is intended to reflect on us, the writer and convey just how well-read, well-informed and well-connected we are. It’s even better if the reader has never, ever heard of the guy or gal being quoted, because it makes them feel the fault is theirs and we, be default, rise even further in their estimation. And, no, I’ve never before heard of Bofinger, either.) Now that has really put the cat among the pigeons. It’s not that it has so far never occurred to anyone that the Greeks would do such a thing, it’s just that everyone believed that if the possibility remained unacknowledged, it would somehow go away.

We’ve all been there, of course. That moment when you know for certain that your girl (or boy) has had enough and is going to jack you in. You just know. But as long as you don’t acknowledge the possibility, all seems to be well. Or the time when your car misbehaves so badly that you just know the problem is just an untidy back seat but something serious. But you manage to persuade yourself, generally by not thinking or, heaven forbid, talking about it, that there isn’t really a problem, or if there is, it will sort itself out sooner or later. And that is what Brussels is doing: in their hears, or rather, in their stomachs, they know the game is up, that the dream is over. First it will be the Greeks, then perhaps the Irish, then there will be a mad dash for the exit – led by the Germans, who aren’t half as daft as many think – as everyone tries to salvage what they can. And then, well, then the dream is over.

But there is another way, although it is a long shot. And this is where timing comes in: if somehow – somehow, though the Lord knows how – the worst elements of the Eurozone could be expelled – OK, call them the Greeks – then there might just be hope for the rest. That’s what the wise ones are considering in Brussels, quietly, privately, streng unter uns, and woe-betide anyone who speaks out of turn.

It’s nonsense, of course. It’s still all going to go pear-shaped. I know it, you know, my sister knows it, my brother-in-law (who has a background in finance) knows it, the Germans know it, the Brits know it, every last significant and insignificant ‘member’ state knows it, the Yanks know it, and the Chinese know it. What we don’t know is the how and when. And that is the crucial information. Some Eurozone members will come out of it all smelling of roses (the Germans, I should think), some will be pauperised for years to come (the Irish, Spanish and Portuguese?) and others still will just be glad that it’s business as usual. The Greeks have long moaned that their tourist industry is lagging far behind that of Turkey because they are tied to the euro and its interest rates and the Turkish aren’t and, moreover, can devalue just when the hell they like. We want some of that, too, please, the Greeks are telling each other. Well, they won’t have to wait too long.

. . .

Another rather ominous development which might indicate all is not well in the EU and that its demise might come rather sooner than it inclusion in Heaven to sit at the right hand side of God the Father was all the fannying about with the Schengen agreement. This allowed the citizens of signatories to the agreement – the United Kingdom and one or two other countries wisely passed on the opportunity to open their borders to all and sundry – free passage to another signatory state with no hindrance or checks of any kind. But things got hairy recently when Italy was inundated with refugees from North Africa and, under the agreement, allowed them to cross into France with no checks at all. (Because of France’s colonial past and former ties, they felt a stronger kinship with France and many also speak French.)

France immediately called foul and said the refugees should be looked after by the first country they come to, in this case Italy. There then came a few days of inter-governmental argy-bargy until it was finally announced that the Schengen agreement would temporarily be suspended. I can see why, of course, but I am obliged to point out that suspending something like that when the going gets tough doesn’t actually inspired much confidence in all the other treaties and agreements in place. Are these also to be ignored by anyone as soon as it suits them to do so?

A further irony is France’s position: they weren’t quite as sensitive to the niceties of refugee protocol when many passed through France on their way to the United Kingdom and hurried them on their way just as soon as they could. That sounds like a reasonably good example of hypocrisy to me.

. . .

When the euro goes, the whole EU ‘project’ will be fatally damaged. The idea was always to build a political union which was so tightly bound together that any thought of going to war would be very quickly abandoned. And the currency union was the cornerstone of what was to become that political union. It all went well, of course, as long as it was just the six, then the 12, members, who were all – more or less – gentlemen and might be expected to play by the rules. When the obituary is written, I think historians will realised that the rot set in when, flushed with the success of how well it had gone so far, the EU pushed for greater integration ever faster. Certainly, there were apparently good reasons for that course of action, and certainly ‘expert’ after ‘expert’ could be wheeled out to provide the necessary hi-falutin’ pseudo-intellectual justification for ever faster expansion. It all became especially important, they convinced themselves at the time, when the Soviet bloc collapsed.


But in order to do what they persuaded themselves was the right thing, they turned a blind eye to so much. And that is all coming back to haunt them. Brussels knew full well that the Greeks were telling porkies and had massaged their figures when the joined the euro. They knew full well that billions were being skimmed off by the various mafias in Italy from all kinds of projects. They knew full well that far from being a fledgling democracy Bulgaria was still run by the same gangsters who had called the shots when, nominally, the Soviets were in charge. But it was the big picture, you see, which they looked to, a European brotherhood of man, a kind of left-liberal nirvana in which the wrong ’uns had to be tolerated because sooner or later they would see the error of their ways, repent and join the fold.

What this means for all those still queuing up to join the EU is anyone’s guess. I should imagine that a large number of Croat farmers will be mightily relieved if the attempt by their government to join the EU fails because by then there will no longer be a viable EU to join. Those farmers have been rubbing along quite nicely and really do not want to be inundated with a welter of regulation with which they had to comply in order to stay in business.

. . .

Incidentally, one of the many facets of euro thinking which borders on the bizarre was the insistence that member states should be fined for various transgressions, especially when those involved them trying to extricate themselves out of some financial mess. So, for example, a while ago, every one in the euro promised that its deficit would be no greater than 3 per cent. If they went over the limit, they were fined. It strikes me as ineffably odd to add to the financial woes of someone by fining them if they find themselves in that kind of situation. Naturally, though, it wasn’t all that straightforward: it is Dick and Dora economics to pretend that any nation’s budget is a straightforward matter of having or owing money. For one thing, many of the figues with which they work are estimates, some are assumptions, many are out of date by the time they are used and often several figures simply do not relate to each other.

America: a clarification, and one which is, I think, necessary. Plus all the latest from the ‘vote of the century’: Britain rejects out of hand any buggering about with how we do things and give our progressives a flea in their ear (and not before time)

In view of what I wrote about about the death of Bin Laden, the demonstration of triumphalism, how clues as to his whereabouts were indirectly gained by the use of waterboarding at Guantanamo Bay and how the description of Bin Laden’s last moments changed overnight, I think it is only fair that I add a few comments. As usual, they will not be particularly original, but they will still have the virtue of being true.

In many ways, the U.S. can arguably be said to have behaved very badly in the whole of it existence. But in that it is no different to any other country. But where it, and all other ‘Western’ states do score rather well is that they are true democracies. Bush was by no means to everyone’s tastes, but he was eventually voted out of office. Well, strictly speaking he could not have continued in office as he had already served two terms as president, so let me put it another way: when the times came to chose another president after the Republican Bush had served his terms, the U.S. went for the Democrats. That is not possible in, say, Syria, and it is debatable as to just how ‘democratic’ post-Soviet Russia is.

My point is that for all its faults, at the very least the mechanisms are in place in America for the ordinary Joe to get justice and to voice his dissatisfaction with the state. Try doing that in Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Saudi Arabia, Syria, increasingly Venezuela, China or many other states around the world. Because of the size of its economy, the U.S. cannot but have a high profile in the world, and not only does it see itself as the country which, because of its resources and principles, is obliged to right what it regards as wrongs around the world, much of the rest of the world sees it in the same role. I am all too aware of a rampant anti-Americanism among those who lean to the left in Western Europe, and I would not want to be included in their number. I find them largely to be a thoroughly dishonest bunch, if only because they refuse to acknowledge that their freedom to dissent is based on the likes of America fighting to defend it. America is by no means flawless, but we have a lot to thank it for.

Similarly, I get rather impatient with many who attack Israel for its behaviour over the Gaza strip and its reactions to Palestinian bombings. I don’t recall anti-Russian demonstrations out side Russian embassies around the world when at Putin’s behest the Russians went into Chechnya and virtually razed Grozny to the ground. Perhaps I am mistaken, but I can’t but help detect an anti-Semitic nature the criticisms of Israel. I must admit that I always respect anyone - an individual, a minority group or a country - which stands up for itself, and that is what Israel does. Furthermore, it, too, has the kind of political system in which the voters can - and do - get rid of a government which is no longer to its liking. I’ll repeat: try doing that in Saudi Arabia, until recently Egypt, Iran or any other the other countries surrounding Israel. And to portray, as some often do, the Israelis as the guys in black hats victimising the poor Palestinians in white hats is laughably naive.

. . .

The big news is, of course, that British voters have rejected changing their voting system. They were asked in a nationwide referendum – Lord, it does sound important – whether they want to change from the the one we now use in which whoever got the most votes in a constituency, even if it was only one, won that constituency’s seat in Parliament to on called the alternative vote system which meant you listed the candidates in the order you liked them and votes were distributed – I think ‘m falling asleep. If you want to know how it worked, please look elsewhere. All I can tell you is that it was the one last hope of the Lib Dems of ever garnering enough votes to form a government in their own right (rather than, as at present, as the junior partner in a coalition) and now they have lost, but a substantial margin, they are cutting up rough.

A nice old codger called Vince Cable, who is once worked as some kind of beancounter for BP and is reckoned to know a little bit about economics (and ballroom dancing, apparently, although he doesn’t brag) is now cutting up rough and describing the Tories as ‘ruthless, calculating and very tribal’ which is a bit rich coming from the bloody Liberals, who are known for playing very dirty indeed come elections time. In fact, nice old codger Vince is, in fact, making a play for the leadership of the Lib Dems which would become vacant if, but more likely when, the current leader, a clean-cut middle-class sort of chap called Nick Clegg is told by the Lib Dems troops to sling his hook. Another codger, though not quite as old, is a chap called Christopher Huhne, who in years gone by might well have been described as a bit of a rum cove, in that he very rich, having made a mint in the City, and recently abandoned his wife for a lesbian pole dancer or bus conductor or something. The Tory Lib Dems will pretend they don’t mind, but actually mind quite a bit, and the Labour Lib Dems will award him double brownie points for doing so.

Huhne, who got some kind of ministerial Cabinet post in the coalition government, has also spent quite a bit of time calling the Tories all kind of nasty names and demanding all the things cherished by the true believers - ensuring that all domestic dogs and cats are on the Pill, shifting the capital of Britain from London to Brussels and generally making damn sure the Lib Dem faithful know that he isn’t at all happy with the present set-up, not one bit. (In political jargon it is called ‘dog whistling’ though I really don’t know why.) The only advantage he has over Vince Cable is that he is younger, and the disadvantage is that he know nothing about ballroom dancing. Huhne is still smarting from the fact that he lost the leadership battle to Nick Clegg and shows no sign of coming to terms with it.

So bugger Libya, bugger Syria, bugger firefights in Bin Laden’s bedroom, bugger whatever is going on in South America, let the world take note: this was the Lib Dems big chance to engineer the voting system more in their favour, but good old Johnny Bull gave them a big, fat and very loud raspberry. Not only that, but they also lost more than two million council seats in the Home Counties alone and bunny rabbits and guinea pigs up and down the land or not happy.

Meanwhile, the Scottish National Party has increased the number of seats it holds in the Scottish Parliament and now has a real majority (as opposed to the last election when it formed a minority government). In Wales, Labour did rather well, but – this being Wales – the result means it is just one seat – make that one damn seat – short of forming the government or whatever it is called in Wales.

NB. I am happy to report that a team of election observers from Zimbabwe, Iraq, Myanmar and the Ukraine report that they were happy with the way the poll was conducted and as far as they could tell there were no irregularities of any kind. Well, there’s a relief.

Only goes to show that a teensy bit of torture isn't that bad, doesn't it? I mean, come on, let's not be namby-pamby, we got him, didn't we?

Let me be unfashionable for a change. There are reports – and I stress that I can only go on what read and hear in the media – that the waterboarding which the U.S. has acknowledged went on in Guantanamo Bay eventually led it to get sufficient information which led them to Osama Bin Laden’s hideaway in Abbottabad. (I supposed in keeping with the rather lurid accounts of the operation I should talk of Bin Laden’a ‘lair’, but what the hell.) So, say some, it was all for the best: we got him, Bin Laden is now dead and so in some circumstances and given that waterboarding is more or less a form of torture, using torture during interrogation might be justified.


Well, up to a point Lord Copper.

Just as you can’t be ‘a little bit pregnant’, nor can there be circumstances in which a principle – in this case the principle that a civilised people does not resort to tortures – can be temporarily abandoned in certain circumstances. At the very least claiming as much is a logical nonsense. A principle is a principle, and a cheese-pared principle is dead in the water almost as soon as you decided to cheese-pare. I suppose it all goes back to that old Dick and Dora philosophical problem, a favourite with earnest sixth-formers throughout the world, as to whether or not the ends justify the means. But I’m not going into that here except to say as far as I am concerned: never.

Then there are the ‘details’ which emerged about how Bin Laden died. Initial reports were that he died a coward’s death, cowering behind his wife while returning fire on the US Navy Seals. Now, just over a day later, we get a different story and a claim that the initial account was given ‘in the confusion of battle’. His wife, it seems, wasn’t even in the room when he was found by the Seals, and the guy was gunned down in cold blood. Executed on the spot. Serves him right, you will say, the bastard was responsible for the deaths of many thousands. But again I demure. I will concede that the logistics of getting him out of Pakistan to face trial made such an exercise very difficult indeed, though, it has to be said, not completely impossible: the Seals got out, I notice, with Bin Laden’s body, so it might have been possible with the chap bound hand and foot rather than as a piece of dead meat. But it comes down to whether or not our principles on which our ‘civilisation’ is based are as important to us as we like to pretend they are.

We say that everyone is entitled to a fair trial, so when did ‘everyone’ stop meaning ‘everyone’ and start meaning ‘those we would like to have a fair trial’? I can’t accept that Bin Laden was so evil that the Nazis we caught, and Milosevic and that guy from Liberia were not quite as evil as him, and thus deserved a trial but he didn’t. That, m’lud, is 24-carat bollocks. As I say, you can’t be ‘a little bit pregnant’. If you espouse a principle, you are obliged to stick with it through thick and thin. In this case I would have preferred a little honesty: a memorandum which stated simply ‘we went out to kill him and that’s what we did’.

. . .

Something else which disturbed me – and several others her in Old Blighty – was the rampant triumphalism of many Americans who took to the streets and chanted ‘USA, USA’ when the news came through that Bin Laden had been killed while defending himself or, as we now know, murdered in cold blood. The surprise was that those celebrating didn’t fire off rifles with abandon, but I assume they rather feared that if they did that kind of thing, the authorities would mistake them for an Afghan wedding party and bomb them to kingdom come.

We Brits don’t like triumphalism. We really don’t. And it rather rankled that we were and are expected to share in our American cousins sorrow over 9/11, but not only did the US of A not seem to share our sorrow when British citizens were murdered by the IRA, but the IRA bombers were partly financially sustained by money raised in America. Look, chaps, that did go down rather badly, don’t you know.

Osama Bin Laden's death: my two ha'porth worth. And was he celebrating Arsenal's victory over United on Sunday when they shot him?

No self-respecting, self-important blogger can let the assassination of Osama Bin Laden go by without spending even just a minute or two pontificating, but I’m sure if you are interested, you’ll will already know all the relevant stuff, so what is there that I might usefully add? And if you are not interested, you have, by this point already stopped reading and wandered off looking for your porn mag (or knitting patterns, depending upon your gender).

I have only skimmed the papers and listened to just over 30 minutes worth of analysis and prognosis on The World Tonight, so you probably know more than I do, and it should be you pontificating. But there is one detail which I haven’t heard alluded to and one suggestion which was made in passing which, if true, would also prove very interesting.

Bin Laden was living in a ‘mansion’ in a compound surrounded by ‘12ft high walls’, which didn’t have either a telephone line running in or an internet connection. (So how did he manage to keep in touch with his pals on Facebook, I wonder, but that must keep for another time.) One Pakistani speaker on the radio (I think it was a former deputy chief of the Pakistani air force) made the point that describing the house Bin Laden was killed in as a ‘mansion’ over-eggs the pudding rather and that the house was a far more modest affair, and judging by the one photo I have seen of the place, I think he has a point. If that house was a ‘mansion’ with all the comfort and convenience that ‘mansion’ implies, I shan’t be shooting off to Pakistan to buy a mansion at any time soon.

Furthermore, this ‘mansion’ was in Abbottabad, which has been described as the Pakistani West Point or Sandhurst and which was home to more Pakistani army types, both in active service and retired. It would seem pretty obvious, given the city’s importance, that either the Pakistani army or the secret service or both knew he was there. In fact, it is impossible to believe they didn’t. And that means there might be some substance to one of the intriguing claims made on the radio tonight, namely that the Pakistani government had actually got hold of Bin Laden at some point in the past and that he was being held by Pakistan as some kind of bargaining chip in any future dealings with the U.S.

Now obviously I have absolutely no way of knowing just how true that is or not, but the claim does have the virtue of explaining why the man was apparently holed up somewhere right under the noses of both the army and the secret service. If the claim is true, it would also be interesting to know what degree of freedom he had.

The second point is that, given the importance of Abbottabad as Pakistan’s ‘West Point/Sandhurst’ and given the degree of control the army and the secret service have in Pakistan, it strikes me as very odd indeed that the US Navy Seals met apparently met absolutely no resistance whatsoever. The report I read described them as arriving in three helicopters, ordering over loudspeakers everyone to go indoors and stay there and then attacking the compound. Would there have been no reaction whatsoever from Pakistani forces in the city? Would not Pakistan’s air force have detected the three helicopters as they made their way to Abbottabad from a base said to be 30 miles away? You would have thought so, but apparently there was no reaction at all. And that would imply that elements in the army – and, furthermore, elements who had the upper hand in the army – gave their tacit approval to the mission. Yet we are told that the U.S. didn’t inform Pakistan for fear of a leak. So the second explanation would seem to be more likely: that the army and the secret service were, on this occasion, pretty bloody useless. But that doesn’t ring true either.

As always, a clearer picture of what really went on will be revealed over the next few years. The Sunday Times, of course, will pretend to have the whole story by next Sunday and will print it, complete with the kind of lurid Boys’ Own graphics it has made its own. I know the Mail is going to town on the matter, and it, too, has penchant for that kind of illustration. But none of these immediate accounts are worth the paper they are printed on, and we really must wait a long time before we get to know the full story, if we ever do.

UPDATE: The news this morning was full of denials that the Pakistan government knew anything about Bin Laden being a local lad in Abbottabad and very popular in the corner shop (‘He always had a smile and was only too happy to spend a few minutes chatting. Lovely man. He was particularly fond Patak’s samsosas, mind they are good, and we sell quite a few, more than any other brand I should think.’) And I don’t doubt that Gilani and his cronies were kept well out of the loop, being regarded by the army, the secret service and most other people of consequence as worse than useless. But it still defies credulity (©John Humphrys) that the army knew nothing about the his presence locally, not just more or less next door to the army college, but next door to the secret service HQ. (Yes, I know Pakistan, like every other country, has more than one 'secret service', but let's not split hairs, please. It's so unseemly.) I mean surely to goodness they would all bump into each other when they were out getting their morning paper?

The reason given for the US Navy bods being able to fly 30 miles to attack the compound is that they ‘flew below the radar’. Well, I suppose it’s possible. In fact, given the insistence (they say) that no one in the Pakistan military knew, it is more probable than not. Yet, I still find it hard to credit. Would Uncle Sam really have been able to fly in 40 armed men 30 miles without being detected?

. . .

The picture at the top of this page was taken last week when there was glorious weather in Cornwall. It is on the back road leading down to Tresarrett from the A30. I like it a lot. It was taken on my mobile phone, but the quality isn’t half bad. It will remain there all summer, but I have decided to replace it in the autumn with a more autumnal piccy. The colour of the title has been changed to yellow because red didn’t show up very well. Incidentally, I should like to confirm that I cleared all these changes first with the White House, the Pentagon and Langley, and they gave me the go-ahead. It might seem an odd thing to do (to get permission) but, you know, as the raid on Bin Laden’s ‘mansion’ has shown, it does pay to be circumspect.

. . .

I realised that Bin Laden is – was, I suppose, would now be more correct – regarded as a mass murdering terrorist bastard but he wasn’t completely evil. Before he found Allah, he was living a playboy lifestyle here in London, courtesy of his father’s millions. And, would you believe it, he was an avid supporter of Arsenal FC. I know that sounds like the usual bullshit I come out with, but it happens to be true. So the question is: did he hear the score of last Sunday’s match between Arsenal and Manchester United? For a change, Arsenal beat United (1-0) and being an avid fan he would have been very chuffed. He might even have breathed his last with a smile on his face. Unlikely, but possible.

Oh, Andrew, what a fine set of principles.

A while ago I mentioned so-called super-injunctions taken out by those with the necessary loot to hire expensive lawyers, which not only deny all mention of a certain matter, but even forbid any mention that the injunction has been taken out. Super-injunctions were back in the news again recently after two actors and a football player had been playing away from home and didn’t want their public to find out, but the matter took quite a dramatic twist over these past few days with the announcement by one man who had taken out a super-injunction that he now thought the trend was a danger to freedom of speech. It was that lovely Andrew Marr, a darling of the bien pensant left-of-centre who is married to the Guardian journalist Jackie Ashley.
I am not Marr’s greatest fan,and when he hosts his Monday morning radio show Start The Week, I can’t help but hear a great deal of self-satisfaction in his voice. Marr’s announcenment was the big news yesterday morning and at first blush is seemed as though a principled man who had once demonstrated a little weakness had rediscovered his princples and the world was once again a grander place. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true.
When Marr took out his super-injunction – and I repeat that they are not cheap – the talk was that he had done so because he wanted to protect his children, specifically that he and his wife Jackie, both stalwarts of the left, had chosen to send their children to a private school and they didn’t relish the great unwashed finding out. That, it now appears, was just so much nonsense.
In fact, Marr did not want the world to know that he had had an affair with a fellow journalist and had fathered a child out of wedlock. That fellow journalist was Alice Miles, of The Times.
Strictly, under the terms of the super-injunction, I and everyone else is forbidden from revealing her name, but for one thing the affair between Marr and Miles was common knowledge in the ‘Westminster Village’ - Miles was then working as a Lobby correspondent – and, anyway, her name had already been publicised on January 18, 2008 (more than three years ago) in the blog by Guido Fawkes. So if I end up in the Tower for mentioning her name – or more likely am landed with a huge fine for contempt of court – it would be interesting to know why Guido wasn’t similarly taken to task three years ago or any of the other cyber pillocks who have been plastering the good lady’s name all over the net with gay abandon.
In the event Marr came clean overnight from Sunday to Monday and ‘his people’ — whoever they were, somone a little more upmarket than Max Cliffored, I suspect — managed to put a reasonable gloss on the affair. It was put about that Marr – a principled man, we must remind ourselves, a man of the left who, we can be certain knows wrong from right and who was merely guilty of one slip - was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the whole idea of the rich and wealthy being able to hide their dirty little secrets, while the rest of us poor schmucks could do nothing of the kind. That, too, it turned out is just so much nonsense.
What had happened was that Ian Hislop, the editor of Private Eye, was becoming increasingly sickened that Marr, who has a prominent Sunday morning political show in which he interviews politicians, could take them to task for irregularities in their private lives while he had ensured that his own dirty little secret was kept well hidden.
The technical term for this kind of behaviour is hypocrisy.
Private Eye is not a wealthy publication but Hislop decided to use some of its shekels to hire an expensive lawyer and challenge Marr’s super-injunction. At some point Marr will have realised that the game was up (I don’t yet know what the outcome was of Hislop’s legal challenge was i.e. whether or not it succeeded), so, no doubt on the advice of ‘his people’ decided to come clean and put as good a gloss on the whole messy business as soon as possible. What better way than to insist that his liberal conscience had got the better of him and that — bugger the consequences — right must prevail: super-injunctions are evil. What a shame that his conscience didn’t seem to stir until he realised his behaviour was about to ensure he would be regarded as one of the biggest shits in town.
By the way, the one detail of this whole affair which amuses me most is that after Miles gave birth to the daughter Marr thought was his, and after he had confessed all to his wife, he agreed – principled chap that he was – to pay child maintenance. It has now emerged that Marr is not the father – Miles was a little more generous with her favours than he thought she was. And so Marr now wants his money back. Now that one should run and run. Miles doesn’t some out if this at all well, either. She knew she was screwing other chaps — I assume, she wasn’t asleep while the deeds were being done — and she will have known that it might be possible Marr wasn't the daddy. But did she tell him of her doubts? Apparently not.
Oh, and in view of his crusade to nail a hypocrite I do hope Hislop hasn’t got any skeletons in his cupboard. For as sure as eggs is eggs they are just bound to come out.

. . .

In his blog, Guido Fawkes makes the point that those truly guilty of hypocrisy on an industrial scale are all those hacks, both broadcasting and print, who knew all about the affair, but kept schtumm. It seems that in some matters dog thinks twice about biting dog. Perhaps at the end of the day those hacks put a greater value on self-preservation.