The dead body politics – Huw Halstead
Huw Halstead casts his eye over European corruption scandals.
Imagine. The Church of England, using its overbearing influence on the political system, has scandalously swapped vast tracts of worthless land it owns in the Yorkshire moors for prime real estate in the heart of London, in a deal with the government that will lose the taxpayer over eighty million pounds. The Church, having immediately sold some of this land on to developers at a huge profit, is also refusing to back down on its tax-exempt status, and says it will not pay if proposed government reforms revoking this status are put through. Meanwhile, a series of vicious forest fires have swept across North West England, killing more than sixty people and making thousands homeless. The government has been accused of corruption and incompetence for replacing the forestry fire service’s senior officers, who had been sent abroad for specialist training, with political appointees lacking any relevant experience. The electorate has no grounds for complaint, however, because the governing party announced before the election that it would look after “its true-blue boys”.
The government has attempted to deflect criticism by accusing a rather unusual alliance of unscrupulous land developers and left-wing terrorists of committing arson in order to free up land for building. After initially threatening prosecution, the government gave the go-ahead for large-scale construction of hotels and luxury villas in the fire ravaged and environmentally important Lake District area.
Two London-based directors of German company Siemens have been arrested in connection with an alleged bribery scandal. The two men, who were arrested in Germany after going on the run, stand accused of using over 67 million pounds of Siemens’ money to bribe British MPs, to assure that Siemens won lucrative contracts for the country’s upcoming Olympic games. The government has responded by blocking an official enquiry, and locking up the wife and daughter of Siemens’ Financial Director on the grounds that they share a bank account with the under-suspicion director. Another suspect has suffered a stroke whilst giving evidence to the Director of Public Prosecutions, who himself is apparently involved in trying to secure impunity for the recently apprehended Siemens’ director. This has been followed by allegations that MPs have also been taking kickbacks from a government fund to subsidise ferry services to the Orkneys and Outer Hebrides.
Meanwhile, the Prime Minister has been dogged by repeated accusations that he has connections to organised crime, has been criticised for his extensive control of the media, and has recently been through a divorce following allegations from his wife that he had been ‘fraternising’ with under-age young women.
In central London, the unelected Culture Secretary has exited his fourth floor flat through the window in an apparent suicide attempt, allegedly to avoid blackmail by his mistress, who apparently possessed a video of over one hundred hours of the couple’s adulterous sex. The mistress was immediately arrested and imprisoned without charge or access to lawyers and, since her release, seems to have lost the ability to speak. In the Westminster village, however, the blackmail story has been greeted with incredulity. “They have been openly flaunting their relationship for years”, said one source who preferred not to be named, “so the video would have been news to no one”. So, rumours abound as to why the Culture Secretary jumped (or was he pushed?). Some whisper that he had an affair with the Prime Minister’s wife, others that he received a large and very secret payment for forcing through the deal, allowing a well known fast food chain to open an outlet in Stonehenge.
Of course, this is not Britain. Far from it. Rather, it is a pastiche of political scandals and corruption over recent months in Greece and her Mediterranean neighbour Italy. The reality of British political scandal is – as far as we know – very different. Take the MPs expenses scandal for instance. Examples of the very worst of the accusations were Derek Conway paying his full-time student son £13,000 for research, Douglas Hogg allegedly claiming for a moat to be cleaned, and various MPs claiming for mortgages on expensive properties. At the other end of the scale, some of the alleged indiscretions produced huge overreactions. Take, for instance, the outcry at Jacqui Smith’s husband watching a couple of porn videos at the taxpayer’s expense. Embarrassing, yes. Scandalous, hell no. These are all examples of, at best, incompetence and negligence and, at worst, greed, not devious corruption or terrible theft; exploiting the system to one’s personal advantage, not entirely going outside of the system and undermining the political process. Indeed, many of the illegitimate expense claims seem to have been the result of poor paperwork, which should reassure the public that MPs are spending their time on more important issues, and even those which may have been deliberately pale in comparison to foreign examples. Yet, in instances such as this, we behave hysterically, as though we are reading accounts of corruption like the Mediterranean examples recounted above.
This contrast between British scandal, on the one hand, and Greek and Italian scandal, on the other, is more than just amusing: it also has serious implications for British politics. Firstly, by creating a culture of scandal in politics, the media runs the risk of convincing the public that the political system is irrevocably corrupt, and that there is therefore no point being involved in the political process. In Greece, this has already begun to happen. An elderly lady in a Greek village saw no point in going to vote, because all of her sons had good jobs and were doing well. The only reason she would have gone to vote would have been if she felt her sons needed a favour from the candidate. Secondly, creating a culture where the slightest mistake is leapt upon and dissected by the media, and in which perceived personality flaws are as serious a reason for resignation as political failings, will ensure that anyone even remotely human will avoid a political career. This is not to suggest that incidents such as the expenses scandal should be ignored, but simply that we require a more measured and appropriate response to these incidents. This point is best supported by a final reference to Greek politics: George Papandreou, whose PASOK party recently came to power, has embarked upon a campaign to stamp out political corruption in Greece. However, he is struggling with popularity, especially among the young, because he lacks the public charisma of some of his more colourful but rather frightening opponents. The scary possibility here is that even if a politician is intelligent, honest, principled, and courageous, voters may no longer think that is relevant.
