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(Continued from overleaf)
Slow-motion archive footage of Neil leaving the High Court
was coupled to a droning soundtrack: 'But the "cash for questions" scandal reaches beyond the reputation of a few MPs,' the voice-over continued. 'Many are now questioning whether Parliament is fit to govern itself, let alone the nation.'
Vernon Bogdanor, Professor of Government at Oxford University, who writes occasionally for the Telegraph, The Guardian and New Statesman, pronounced: 'I think the "Neil Hamilton Affair" and the problems associated with it, which seem to cast a pall on a number of MPs, do require something much more than Parliamentary self-regulation.' The voice-over continued over a darkened-room slide photo of Neil and night-time views of the Houses of Parliament. 'This call is being made louder and more frequently today than ever before, but more and more MPs seem willing to exploit their positions.'
'When I first started working in Parliament in the early '50s,' proclaimed discredited conspiracy-theorist Andrew Roth, 'most of the Tory MPs had inherited wealth, and didn't go chasing after money. The later generation -- the Thatcherite generation -- they're looking for a substantial supplement to their pay, so that they can live in the manner which they would like to become accustomed.'
'Lobbying really is the interface between the public and Whitehall and Parliament,' explained lobbyist Andrew Gifford. 'There was a growing number of lobbying companies and public relations companies.. engaging in lobbying, and it was apparent that some of them were definitely what I would call "cutting corners."' Gifford was Ian Greer's biggest rival and also holds a shareholding and a seat on the board of publishers, Fourth Estate. This successful company is not only 50% owned by The Guardian, but also published Sleaze.
Ex-Tory MP and health minister Edwina Currie also appeared in the documentary. 'Well, the fact that people were being paid to lobby was far from unusual,' she said. 'It is fairly common, it was widely known, it was widely understood, some of them boasted about it… they regarded it as a very successful bandwagon.' She was referring to the wider issue of MPs consultancies, but the juxtaposition of her comments helped create the false impression that the production company desired.
It was noticeable that, while their accusers were shown in favourable settings such as panelled offices and gothic buildings, Neil Hamilton and Ian Greer and the other accused were shown in slow motion or in black-and-white slides, projected in a darkened room.
Two other witnesses testified for Fayed in the film: Brian Basham, Fayed's PR consultant; and David Alton (now Lord Alton), who received £1 million from Fayed to help him establish a supposed political anti-sleaze body, "The People's Trust." News of Fayed's donation
leaked out three days before the programme went out. We have yet to discover where the money has gone.
'Hamilton's true relationship with Ian Greer,' the voice-over stated, 'only emerged when Mohamed Al Fayed gave his story to The Guardian. Fellow Member for Harrods, Tim Smith, owned up and resigned.' But Smith did not own up and resign because he was paid by Greer. Smith resigned after admitting to an activity that Fayed and The Guardian did not make until several weeks later -- that of receiving payments from Fayed. This is exactly the same method that The Guardian uses to skate around the circumstances of Smith's resignation.
It beggars belief that Channel 4 could broadcast such an unmitigated stitch-up. So who are Fulcrum Productions, and why would they follow the Fayed-Guardian line so faithfully?
Fulcrum is run by the programme's producer, Richard Belfield, and its reporter Christopher Hird -- two radical journalists who have written occasional articles for
The Guardian (including one that Rusbridger reviewed himself). Hird has also written for the New Statesman and the New Left Review. This in itself may not be significant. But their contacts with
The Guardian certainly seem to have ensured their eagerness to collaborate with the newspaper on a documentary about its 'exposure of Tory sleaze'. But, though their programme bore every hallmark of
The Guardian's involvement, Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger wrote to Sir Gordon Downey on 16 January 1997 (the day of transmission) and stated:
'You will be aware that Channel 4 is showing a Dispatches programme tonight on related matters.
I have not been at all involved in the making of this… but I believe that it contains important
new material which you should consider.'
Despite Rusbridger's assurance, Guardian journalist Jamie Wilson, who also worked on
The Guardian's "cash for questions" campaign, was listed on the programme's credits. So as the authorisation for Wilson's attachment to the programme would have been the editor's responsibility, it is interesting that Rusbridger claimed to have had no involvement 'at all'.
In short, from the opening shots to the closing credits, the programme was designed to mislead by selective omission; distortion; misrepresentation; and dishonest juxtaposition. This was exactly the style that Richard Belfield used when he became Fayed's mouthpiece for the second time seventeen months later, in a brilliantly-crafted nonsense-documentary about the circumstances surrounding the car crash in Paris that caused the death of Diana, Princess of Wales.
Commissioned from Granada Television by ITV's controller of news and current affairs, Steve Anderson, and broadcast by ITV on 3 June 1998, Fulcrum's 'The Secrets Behind the Crash' sought to give credence to Fayed's outrageous ideas that the British Royal family could have been behind an assassination plot perpetrated in league with the British security forces. The programme implied that this could have been carried out because Dodi and Diana were supposedly about to marry (Fayed's butler said so), and so the Royal family had a reason to bump them both off because they would not have wanted a Muslim entering the dynasty.
Belfield used the same techniques that he used for the 'cash for questions' documentary the year before. Decidedly dubious witnesses bearing odd testimonies were juxtaposed with comments from the presenter to lead the viewer to ideas that all sorts of goings-on were going on. This was all interwoven with reputable witnesses raising valid points on related issues. Their inclusion on the programme conferred credibility on the dubious witnesses by association. It was a class act.
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