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Spectator
a day ago
- Politics
- Spectator
Why does Lord Hemer think two-tier justice claims are disgusting?
Lord Hermer, the Attorney General who personally authorised the prosecution of Lucy Connolly for a tweet, has broken his silence on the claims that we have a two-tier justice system, and he's angry. Hemer is also very wrong, as an investigation into Palestine Action demonstrates. Hermer, like much of the British regime, prefers convenient pretence over honesty The Attorney General was interviewed for Starmer's Stormy Year, a new Radio 4 programme assessing how the government's first year has gone. When the discussion turned to last August's riots, Hermer became audibly angry, describing the two-tier claim as 'frankly disgusting'. He seemed rather confused about where the impression of double standards has come from, insisting that: 'What some people were seeking to do, bringing up 'two-tier', was to make a comparison with the way that people were being treated for trying to kill police officers – and I want to reiterate that, 'kill police officers' – with the response to protests on the streets of London… That's where the two-tier comes from.' Perhaps there are people who believe those who rioted or threatened the lives of police officers should have been spared jail. I've never met them. I have met and spoken with many who have deep, serious concerns about how unjust our justice system is becoming. When I have written about this matter I have focused on inconsistencies in charging decisions, particularly for speech crimes, evidently excessive sentencing, or attempts to codify advantage for those who aren't white, male and Christian. One of the most egregious examples is Hamit Coskun's prosecution and conviction for burning a Quran – a man who burned a Bible in similar circumstances is unlikely to have even been arrested. This is what two-tier justice looks like. A system where the law is nowhere close to equal and fair, and in which the state uses its power capriciously to target those who the ruling class do not approve of, while decriminalising the acts of those who have its support. I can't believe that Hermer is unaware of this. Unfortunately for the Attorney General, today the Times has published a tremendous piece of investigative journalism in which they infiltrated Palestine Action, and attended one of their online meetings. The organiser assured members of the soon-to-be proscribed organisation that the establishment is on their side, saying that 'we're seeing people not get charged with the things that they should get charged with', that serious charges were often diluted or dropped altogether, that Palestine activists tended to 'get off lightly' at sentencing, and provided a list of recent cases in which the activists had been spared serious punishment. If that isn't two-tier justice, what is? Hermer insisted that 'we have one justice system, that is an independent justice system…and I think we all need to get behind it not seek to undermine it.' He must know this isn't true. Speaking about people who 'undermine' the justice system can only be an effort to shut down an uncomfortable truth. The Attorney General clearly believes that those of us who've noticed the double-standards in our system are wrong to mention it. He, like much of the British regime, prefers convenient pretence over honesty, and bristles at challenge or accountability from politicians or the public. This behaviour is not new. It's why the rape gangs were kept quiet. It's why the Sentencing Council was so furious at being challenged by the Lord Chancellor. It's also evident in this week's claim that the small boats crisis is being directed by Russia, as opposed to a very obvious consequence of providing migrants free accommodation in London's zone one, along with easy access to paid work for companies like Deliveroo. Everywhere the rot spreads, and everywhere the state would prefer lies to hard truths.
Metro
2 days ago
- Politics
- Metro
The secret choice Starmer has already made to save the UK from nuclear war
Within hours of becoming Prime Minister, Sir Keir Starmer was given a job that is literally a matter of life or death. Tony Blair reportedly 'turned white' when he was told to complete the order, while John Major said it was 'one of the most difficult things I've ever had to do.' The momentous task bestowed upon any new leader is to write four identical letters of instruction. Known as the Letters of Last Resort, each detail what the UK should do in the face of nuclear attack if all those in authority have died. It's something that has been done since 1969 when the UK started using submarines for their deterrent, and the contents of the letters have always been kept top secret. 'When a new Prime Minister walks into office one of the very first things that happens is that they get briefed on the Trident nuclear weapon programme and the mechanisms for their release,' explains Paul Ingram, Research Affiliate at the University of Cambridge Centre for the Study of Existential Risk. 'The letter are a command to the submarines if London has been hit and leadership has been decapitated above ground.' Once penned, the instructions are put into a safe within a safe, alongside another letter of instructions on the final steps that need to be taken before opening the Letter of Last Resort from the PM. They are then delivered to the commanding officers of the Vangaurd, a fleet of four submarines that carry nuclear deterrents. Once a PM steps down, their letters are burnt without ever being opened, so no one will ever know what they chose to do. While no one knows for sure, according to a Radio 4 documentary The Human Button , there are said to be four options given by the PM: do nothing, find an ally (suggestions are thought to be America or Australia), use their own judgement, or – the most deadly decision of all – retaliate with nuclear weapons. 'With the PM presumed dead, the commander may well opt to use their own judgement given they are alive and able to use brain cells,' adds Paul. 'Yes, these are are trained military people, trained to follow orders but they are also human beings.' It's little wonder that writing these letters weigh heavy on the shoulders of those in power. The Royal Navy's Vanguard Class consists of the four nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarines – HMS Vanguard, Vengeance, Victorious and Vigilant – which carry a deadly amount of weaponry. 'Each submarine has 12 operational tubes which can deploy between 8-12 missiles and, it's believed, around 50 warheads, explains Paul. 'That's seven or eight times as destructive as the bomb which flattened Hiroshima in 1945, killing over 140,000 civilians.' Tom Unterrainer, Chair of the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament, tells Metro: 'Within hours of a Prime Minister entering power they are indoctrinated into a nuclear framework. In their briefing they are taken through a number of scenarios by senior military – which cities do they hit, how many will die, what are the possible repercussions. 'Writing the letter is one of the first acts of an incoming PM, but at no point during the election campaign has anyone really asked the question of what Keir Starmer thinks about unleashing mass death genocidal nuclear war the world… It's a weird one.' The letters are only to be opened if a nuclear attack has killed or otherwise incapacitated both the Prime Minister and their designated 'second person' – usually a high-ranking member of the Cabinet such as the deputy prime minister or the first secretary of state – and if all contact with Naval command has been lost. One of the indications that British Government may have been destroyed is, randomly, said to include the BBC Radio 4 Today programme. According to Lord Peter Hennessy, a history professor and Member of The House of Lords, if it isn't heard for three consecutive days it's a sign that something is very seriously wrong. However, there are of course other triggers, explains Paul. 'When on patrol these submarines have very limited communications with mainland and it only goes one way. If they were to reach out from the depths of the ocean it could potentially give their location away. They essentially have to sit and wait. 'So if those signals from the Admiralty were to stop for a prolonged period, that would be one trigger. They would also listen out for broadcasts such as the World Service – and maybe Radio 4 – and if they were absent, the submarine would then come up to the shallows to see if they could get signal. 'Again, this could cause them to be a target, so it is a decision that couldn't be taken lightly. However, if the world appeared dark above ground, that would be another sign something has happened.' In the event of a doomsday scenario, the Vanguard commander will open the safes containing the letter and carry out the instructions contained within. 'The assumption is that the person who has written them is already a corpse, so the question really is do they follow the instructions of a dead person or not – especially when it could contribute to the destruction of all life,' says Tom. 'I've worked with Commander Robert Forsyth, who was on the Polaris nuclear submarine, and he did something called the perisher course. This trains those on the subs the drill to fire weapons and the choices they have to make. They get a legal briefing and reassurances, but in reality there are still big question marks surrounding the laws of war.' 'If the commander decides to retaliate, they would then consult with two other officers on board,' adds Paul. 'If all three agree they would plot their targets and programme their missiles. Then they would use a dual key system and a trigger to fire the weapons.' To give an idea of the extent of damage, Tom says, 'If a fully loaded, powered up weapon was launched and hit somewhere London, it would all be gone. There would be firestorms, millions dead in an instant.' James Callaghan, who was Prime Minister from 1976-1979, is the only former leader to reveal what he would have done. 'If we had got to that point where it was, I felt, necessary to do it – then I would have done it,' he told a BBC documentary in 1988. 'I've had terrible doubts of course about this. And I say to you that if I had lived after having pressed that button, I would never, never have forgiven myself.' Meanwhile, despite spending a lifetime trying to ban nuclear weapons, when Jeremy Corbyn was standing for election in 2019, he said that if elected PM he would write the letters. 'I will write the appropriate letters to our commanders,' he said, adding that 'any nuclear weapon used anywhere in the world is a disaster.' In 335 BC, Alexander the Great burned the Greek city of Thebes to the ground, spreading destruction and devastation to send a firm message to the cityfolk who tried to revolt against him. One of the only buildings he left standing in the middle of the ruins was the home of a poet he admired, whose name was Pindar. If nuclear war was to break out today, and central London was flattened by several megatons of explosive force, the Prime Minister and top military figures would likely be sheltering in one of the few places left unaffected. It is also called Pindar. Our senior political reporter Craig Munro has the full story here. Disaster films almost always start the same way. A crowded supermarket, ping after ping as shoppers' phones go off, screams. An asteroid, a tsunami, an earthquake, World War III. Something – or someone – is about to upend the world. But whatever the impending disaster is, experts tell Metro it won't be mobile phones that people will rely on to survive. It'll be something a little more old-school. 'Crises can take many forms,' Dr Colin Alexander, a senior lecturer in political communications at Nottingham Trent University, says. 'However, radio remains the go-to medium of communication in these moments.' You can find our deep dive into what happens when the world is silenced here. 'Starmer has said he's been prepared to use nuclear weapons – all the party leaders have,' says Tom. 'Which is essentially saying you're willing to push a button that can unleash genocidal nuclear war on planet earth. That's the level we're operating on.' More Trending For Paul, if he was asked to write the Letters, his instructions would be to 'either do nothing or find an ally,' he says. 'The point of the Vangaurd missiles is to act as a deterrent, for other countries to know that even if you destroyed government above ground, there is the risk of an attack from the ocean. 'For me, those missiles aren't for retribution, they are to deter action. So sending warheads off after London had been destroyed would be a war crime and a gratuitous murder of millions of civilians.' Do you have a story you'd like to share? Get in touch by emailing Share your views in the comments below. MORE: Six places which could be safe if World War Three erupts – including two in UK MORE: 'I was 17 when I had my first day of school' MORE: How close was Iran to making a nuclear bomb and what's really going on with Israel's nuclear program?
Spectator
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Spectator
Who's afraid of Virginia Woolf? The BBC, it seems
'What a lark!' I thought to myself as I rose on a hot June morning to listen to a documentary on Mrs Dalloway. A century has passed since Clarissa bought flowers for her midsummer party, and Radio 4 has commissioned a three-parter, with actress Fiona Shaw presenting. 'What a plunge!' The first programme had been playing for all of two minutes before my hopes began to wilt like a delphinium. 'Her face adorns tote bags and internet memes,' says Shaw of Woolf in the preamble, which sounds as though it has been lifted directly from the series pitch to the BBC. 'I'll be asking what… Virginia Woolf has to say to us today.' There follow promises to explore Woolf's writing and to 'discover… how she challenged gender norms and wrote about mental health as human experience rather than just a medical condition'. My heart sank further with the first of many clips from interviews with experts. One author describes, in detail, his discovery of Woolf in the hands of a girl he fancied at school. Most of the contributors, in fact, prove to be the saving grace of this series. There's a fashion in documentaries at the moment for featuring many, many talking heads. This can be dizzying, but these – who include the excellent Alexandra Harris, Francesca Wade and Bryony Randall – provide much-needed depth. Shaw meets them at various Woolfian locations, including Monk's House and Bloomsbury's Gordon Square, and things improve. I'll admit to admiring Shaw in pretty much everything she does. Here, she is an articulate interlocutor, only armed in places with the heavy-handed script. There are some good forays into the sounds and silence of Mrs Dalloway and Woolf's aversion to Sigmund Freud. But then we realise how far from Woolf we've strayed. The novelist apparently waited until 1939 before reading any of Freud's works because she was 'wary of reductive tendencies of psychoanalysis to find a single answer'. This, indeed, was Woolf. She cannot be reduced; her prose, as we are reminded, is often concerned with the unexpressed thought. Her readers were credited with intelligence. We, on the other hand, are given the hard sell: told repeatedly not to be put off by her, not to be afraid of how difficult she is. It would have been nice to be enticed to her side with some of the subtlety and wit that won her readers in the first place. Those still afraid of Virginia Woolf and condemning of her snobbery might find The Girls of Slender Means more to their taste. 'Long ago in 1945 all the nice people in England were poor,' begins Muriel Spark's novella. It has been adapted many times for TV and radio, including with Patricia Hodge and Miriam Margolyes, but actor-playwright Simon Scardifield's version is a welcome addition. The narrator (Maggie Service) is skilled at weaving between character dialogue. The pauses are perfectly timed to make it sound as though she is there, observing the action, a calm voice amid the chatter of the May of Teck Club. This, the novella's setting, is a hostel for twentysomething-year-old women. Prepare for a lot of bickering over who is borrowing the Schiaparelli gown, the fat content of a cheese pie ('four million horrid calories!') and the assessment of vital statistics, hips especially. The narrative is of its time. There is no apology for this and nor should there be. Clever Jane, who works in publishing, makes frequent references to 'brain work' – that is, reading. Like studious Pliny the Younger, averting his eyes from the erupting volcano, Jane would sooner be at her books than celebrating VE Day outside. Selina is much less intellectual and more beautiful. There is a flurry at the arrival of a male author for dinner. The chemistry between Jane (hips: 38 inches) and author Nicholas – and Nicholas's interest in Joanna ('fair and healthy looking') – is well captured. As in Woolf, the internal narrative is all-important. Nicholas finds Joanna to be 'orgiastical' and longs to say, 'Poetry takes the place of sex for her, I think,' but doesn't. He is also eager to make love to Selina ('extremely slim') on the roof [a brilliant pause from the narrator] 'It needs to be on the roof.' Access is via a small window: suddenly hip-size matters. I won't spoil the plot, but Scardifield has made the narrative more uplifting than the novella with a simple switch in the order in which we learn events. This – and Spark's sharp one-liners – make it blissful summer listening.
Telegraph
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Telegraph
Need some respite in these bleak times? These shows had me sobbing at my radio
Being an audio junkie, my ears are currently filled with little else but war. I tip my hat to the excellent, reactive work done by podcasts such as The Daily T, Americast, The Rest Is Politics (both UK and US) and The News Agents, who all may as well be broadcasting live, 24 hours a day at the moment. Yet while all and sundry on social media demand that you 'do not look away' from Gaza or Tehran or Tel Aviv, sometimes you have to. It was with some relief that I tuned into Moominsummer Madness (Radio 4, Sunday), the latest of Radio 4's delightful adaptations of Tove Jansson 's work, and the ideal way to mark midsummer. The plot was beautifully absurd, with a volcano causing a great tsunami to flood Moominvalley, forcing the Moomins to take refuge on, of all things, a floating theatre. You could look for analogies about refugees and displaced people and resilience in the face of oblivion if you wanted to, but why on earth would you want to? The world hardly needs analogies on those subjects at the moment. As the Moomins pootled about the flooded valley, fretting about marmalade and lost toothbrushes, the best thing to do was to switch off entirely and give yourself to the unsettling weirdness of a tale set in a land where the sun never sets. As with all of Jansson's work, it's for children and yet, at the same time, not entirely for children. There is a tweeness about the Moomins, and a childlike optimism that can be off-putting if you're not quite in the right mood, but there is always a darkness around the edges. As the volcano erupted, Little My (Clare Corbett) talked of children's toys being burnt, while she later enquired how Snufkin (Alex Waldmann) was going to 'settle his score' with the dreaded park keeper: 'What are you going to do with him? Hang him? Boil him?' The miserable Misabel (Rosanna Miles) sobbed at the water's edge as she pondered the beauty of the moon and 'all the sadness there is'. It's like Paddington having an existential crisis. The Moomins had no idea what a theatre was, so had to learn the hard way via a haughty rat called Emma (Naomi Wirthner) who declared, horrified, 'You don't know a thing about theatre!' I have heard countless Radio 4 dramas in my time, but rarely have I heard a production that brimmed with such life and vigour. And I can't recall a time when I heard a voice cast having such a whale of a time, particularly Samuel West as Moominpappa, who learnt all about the stage and decided that he simply must write a play (we've all been there). The script – adapted by Robin Brooks – was a gem. 'A theatre is the most important sort of place in the world,' said Emma. 'It's where people are shown who they could be if they wanted, what they'd like to be if they dared, and what they really are.' 'You mean it's a reformatory?' replied Moominmamma (Ann Bryson). On the other side of the world, where the sun has disappeared, they celebrated midwinter. There is no better way to mark this than by listening to the World Service's annual Antarctic Midwinter Broadcast (Saturday), which was marking its 70th anniversary. Began in 1955 by Donald Milner, the broadcast is intended for the few dozen hardy scientists and support staff at British research centres in the Antarctic. It is nothing more than messages from loved ones and a few music requests, but each year it somehow manages to make me sob. Listening to it, I feel like Misabel, overcome by the beauty of human endeavour and connection. They have broadband at the bottom of the world now, yet there remains something mysterious and romantic about broadcasting to people stranded, for 12 months, on a windswept rock. Cerys Matthews introduced the missives from the UK, aimed at Rothera base and South Georgia (including Bird Island with its four inhabitants – I hope they like each other), a patchwork of jaunty 'hellos', choked-up parents, proud grandparents, woofs and miaows, homemade poems and shanties, and private jokes. It's heartwarmingly nerdy and impossible to pick a favourite message: 'Nick and Anne say, 'Hope you're having a *cool* time'.' 'Please get rid of that awful beard, love Mum.' 'Don't get too hammered David.' The one that sent me over the edge was five words long. 'Hello son. I love you.' Between the Moomins staging some hammy cod-Shakespeare and the families of British scientists beaming their messages of love halfway across the world, the radio offered up a different perspective on humanity this week. It was much needed.
Spectator
21-06-2025
- Politics
- Spectator
Let's call Palestine Action's RAF attack what it is: sabotage
It might be a little unfair to pick on Lisa Nandy – who was bounced on Radio 4's Today programme yesterday morning and who, to be fair, did condemn unequivocally the actions of the Palestine Action cadres who attacked two of the 14 Voyager aircraft that form the Royal Air Force's strategic tanker force. But her extemporised response betrayed annoyance at 'choices' over a protest before, correctly, reminding the audience that this was about national security. And it certainly is. These aircraft are vital to our national defence. They refuel the air-defence fighters that patrol the thousands of square miles of the airspace over the North Atlantic that is our Nato responsibility, intercepting nuclear-capable Russian bombers on a regular basis. They allow us to deploy aircraft quickly at range – such as to reinforce Cyprus only this week. The defence of the Falklands hinges on it. At the other end of the scale, they will deploy forces to conduct disaster relief at global range – did the 'protesters' want to disable this? The RAF must ask itself whether it has slipped into too much of a peacetime mode So, damaging and disabling such key assets of the national defence architecture is not a 'protest'; it is an act of sabotage likely to assist our enemies. And it should be treated as such. Many immediate thoughts flow from the incident. Most people are unaware of how hard it is to secure and defend a large area such as Brize Norton (BZN), which consists of 1200 acres and has an approximately 6 mile perimeter. What might seem like a serious perimeter fence to most of us is no obstacle to the determined – in military parlance, an obstacle is only such if it is under constant surveillance, and fire support can then be brought down on anyone trying to cross it. This does not apply at BZN, nor any major military facility in the UK. So what does? Any station commander worth their salt knows that anything of value on the base has to become a local citadel. When the RAF had nuclear weapons, the bomb-dump was such a citadel – multiple layers of barbed wire, constant surveillance, armed guards, a heavily armed, quick response force. It was accepted that the airfield boundary fence was little more than a 'Keep Out' sign and played little part in the security plan. What did contribute over time was a good relationship with the local population, who will spot anything untoward before anyone. It will be interesting to see, therefore, what the risk assessment was for BZN, and the plan for how highly valuable, operationally vital assets were to be guarded. Because this is not new. In recent decades, anti-war in Yemen protesters broke into BAE Systems Warton and anti-drone protesters into RAF Waddington with varying degrees of intent. And that was at a time when the general backdrop of protest was not as it is today. In the last couple of years we have seen defence companies attacked by Palestine Action, resulting in millions of pounds worth of damage and operational delays. The perpetrators of those incidents, by and large, were given light sentences and even acquitted on grounds of doing a 'greater good'. What message did that send? The media continued to refer to the perpetrators as 'protesters', not saboteurs, and they were treated sympathetically. This sets societal norms, and so such 'protests' can become quasi-legitimised as acts of principled opposition. Worthy of a slapped wrist, perhaps, but… As Sir Stephen Watson succinctly explained at Policy Exchange recently, there has only been one Just Stop Oil protest in Manchester, and it lasted just 45 seconds before they were arrested for blocking the King's highway. Set boundaries and you get less bad behaviour, get less bad behaviour and you can control what remains. And so it must be with Palestine Action. Their act of sabotage needs to be recognised for what it is and treated accordingly as the action of a de facto fifth column acting as 'useful idiots'. In this light the MOD's reference to 'vandalism' in its much later press release seems inadequate. 'Vandalism' is what happens to the bus stop outside the Navy, Army and Air Force institutes. Only recently, that sympathetic default to well-meaning 'protest' has started to harden in the courts. It needs to stiffen up more. The times we are living in do not give us the luxury we enjoyed in the 1990s, in that brief holiday from history when threats appeared to have gone for good and our Armed Forces could be seen as normative vehicles. The threats are back, as the heads of our intelligence services are reminding us with increasing urgency. The RAF must ask itself whether it has slipped into too much of a peacetime mode, assuming it will be essentially safe 'at home'. A more operational mindset across the Service would not go amiss. And we might ask what else is possible in the light of Ukraine and Israel launching operationally brilliant drone attacks from the enemy's own territory and within sight of strategic targets? How confident can we in the UK be that our enemies won't be able to conduct such operations here? In a nation-state where actual hostile action has now emanated from a climate where aggressive hostile intent has long been signalled – but, perhaps, has become so common and tolerated that we have become inured to it.
