Part 38 - Film at Eleven (Thursday, 9 November 1972) Sir David Nellist, Peggy's Principle Private Secretary, greeted her on her return, "Prime Minister, was your trip a pleasant one?" Peggy was to the point, "Dave, those Moscow Wedgwood-Bennists were sheep in shepherds clothing." Sir David's face fell. Although Yuri had sounded on all fours with the Programme, it seemed from Peggy's language that he was no better than a Fabian. He tried a new tack, "At least the progressive forces have won the American election." This was not a good tactic. Peggy began an uncharacteristic tirade about the Democratic Party, the state of the Left in America generally and made an extraordinary statement Sir David could only ascribe to jet lag. "It might have been better if Reagan had won. Shake them up a bit. Lackadaisical people, with their two martini lunches and their water cooler culture and their rolling coffee breaks." "Oh Prime Minister! What about those manual workers on minimum wages who have six hour shifts without toilet breaks..." "If you'll just let me finish. Americans are a lackadaisical people. Compare them with our honest British civil servants," Peggy waved airily, in the general direction of Whitehall, "They toil, heads down, until the appointed hour when the urn on the trolley arrives. They take their cup of tea to their desks where they consume it whilst working. That is why British GNP rose 5% last year, because we are not a nation of cowboy slackers." Sir David thought it best not to interject again but he couldn't help thinking that the 5% growth was due in part to 1971 being the first year since the monetarist recession. But Peggy knew more about economics than he did. She had calmed down a little now, and was in a reflective mood. "I'm disappointed with Yuri. But we are in no worse a position than we were in October, having to build socialism in one country. The permanent revolution continues. Very well, if necessary, alone!" "Indeed, Prime Minister." Sir David placed some bound papers before her. "The Building a Better Britain (Industrial Conscription) Bill. The second reading speech is scheduled for tonight. With Mrs Castle unavailable..." he paused delicately. "Neil can introduce it," Peggy said, "And I want a three line whip for the vote on this." "Yes, Prime Minister."

Bobby and Hank and Zbig couldn't make head nor tail of it. The former Soviet Union was now calling itself the United Republics and claimed to be organised on Wedgwood-Bennist lines. Yet the original Wedgwood-Bennist country England, which was now calling itself the United Kingdom, had issued feelers about rejoining NATO. Something was screwy. At least the occupied Warsaw Pact nations were reliable. While some claimed to be Communist and others had gone WB - with or without occupants swapping chairs - all had continued to profess loyalty to Moscow.

(Saturday, 5 May 1973) May Days are normally a time of celebration in Thaxted. A typical first day of May will attract a broad front of people. Communists of every colour and stripe, lovers of classical music and aficionados of rural English folkloric practice. This year the fellow-travellers included a large number of Anarchists, who had come for the folk music and other, unspecified activities. The festivities had been moved from the first to the Saturday, to allow as many as possible to attend. It was a stirring sight to see them, in their serried ranks, marching in time under their proud red and black banners. There was an un-anarchistic discipline to them. The could almost have been mistaken for the massed ranks of Unison members - marching in the opposite direction some miles ahead - but for three differences. The Anarchists have no Union Jacks. The red and black banners of Unison also have some white. And the version of 'God Save the Queen' that the Unison members are singing has the more tradition words. Midway between the two columns, and at this stage out of earshot of either of them, The Levellers are tuning up. Well, not all The Levellers. Rick is attending a football game - Leeds vs Sunderland. Tim was frankly disbelieving. "Professional sports, apart from cricket, are just a means by which hierarchies distract people from the struggle for freedom!" But Rick was unmoved, "I'm going and you can't stop me!" As Maddy pointed out to Tim, Rick had made a good Anarchist argument. So there The Levellers Minus One were, in the tent. Father Jack, older and more stooped since tender readers have last seen him, sticks his head in, "The morris dancers are here now. Almost ready?"

"There are reports of fighting by Anarchists, so-called punk-folkers and morris dancers against Nazis and Conservatives near Thaxted in Essex. Police have made several arrests and expect to make many more in the course of the afternoon. Motorists travelling between Saffron Walden and Great Dunmow are advised to avoid the B184 and take the M11 instead. "And now a great hit from Gale Garnett - We'll Sing in the Sunshine ..."

From The Telegraph Saturday, 12 May 1973 GOVERNMENT MUST EXPLAIN, MARCHERS MUST BE FREED Why are the authorities - the police, the government and the marxist BBC - persisting in the canard that the British Nationalist Conservative and Unionist Party was in any way linked to the violence last week that claimed the life of the elderly Reverend John Putterill? No-one believes more strongly in British justice than I. But when the government and a cowed judiciary lock away Norris and Ross McWhirter alongside dangerous extremists like Arthur Scargill when the evidence of innocence is overwhelming in Norris' case one is reduced to asking why? Questions have been asked. Why were the leftist riff-raff allowed to assemble in such numbers at Thaxted without the need for a permit? Why were the police not present in strength at the outset to protect from anarchist violence the Unison marchers exercising their democratic right of protest? And why were so many of the victims, the Unison marchers, imprisoned while many of the aggressors allowed to go free? The government is yet to issue any adequate explanation. Why?

Tender readers are invited to imagine the metaphor of a day-to-a-page wall calendar. Leaves are being torn from the calendar by some unseen force and blown away. The idea the author is trying to convey is that of the passage of time. But readers should not imagine that these passing days have been devoid of excitement. Oh no.

(Sunday, 14 December 1975) These days Bobby's mind turned, from time to time, to the topic of voter fatigue. Eddie's loss in the Australian election after six years in office showed that, in uncertain economic times, the electorate could quickly lose patience. Also, Bobby's back was killing him. "Teddy, I'm not running again." Teddy shouldn't have been surprised but he was. "But Bobby..." "Hush, I've made up my mind. It's time to spend more time with Caroline and the kids. I've achieved almost everything I planned. I've won Jack's war, I've built Lyn's Great Society and I've ended racial discrimination." The last claim was an exaggeration even Teddy would privately concede. But as Attorney-General he was responsible for measuring compliance with the Presidential targets and, against those measures at least, there had been complete success. "The reason I'm telling you this Teddy, is to allow you to position yourself if you want to run next year. But I'd counsel against it. We still haven't beaten last year's inflation and after 16 years of Democrats in the White House the public are getting tired of us. The name Kennedy may not be a help this time. Rocky or whoever they put up is going to be hard to beat, even with all the Bicentennial palaver. "But sir, if not me then who?" "Probably Jimmy." Bobby smiled at the thought. "And after he loses you'll have the inside running in 1980."

(Sunday, 21 March 1976) The 1970s were a permissive time in America. Even being found in bed with a woman not his wife would of itself have not been enough to end Rocky's run. But to be found dead in such a bed was, for the hopes of Rocky's backers, fatal.

Rocky was dead. Ronnie was too old. Besides, he was a libertarian at the time when voters were crying for Keynesian measures. Whereas Dick was tanned, fit and rested. Plus, he had a secret plan to end the recession.

(Tuesday, 7 September 1976) Cabinet agreed that something had to be done. The United Republics was now an aggressive player in OPEC. Siding with Iraq and with Saudi Arabia on side they were using the organisation as a cartel, squeezing ever higher prices out of helpless refiners. The remaining voice of reason among the large producers was Iran, a firm friend of the United States. Only it wasn't so much Iran that was America's friend, it was her leader, the Emperor. Her increasingly eccentric leader. His dissolution of the existing emasculated political parties and creation of the Iranian Renaissance party had caused unrest in a citizenry already demonstrating a failure to appreciate the benefits flowing from the White Revolution. The Emperor had to be supported. A carrier task force would be dispatched to the Persian Gulf within the week. Meanwhile an important politician would be flown to Tehran as a token of America's support. A politician who could be spared from home and would benefit from the exposure. Jimmy.

(Sunday, 12 September 1976) "I now realise that continence is not enough," there was a slight quaver in the voice of the blindfolded Vice President, "I must have no lust in my heart towards anyone." From the distance chants could be clearly heard, "Death to Carter! Death to the Great Satan!" "Jimmy is the great Satan?" asked Bobby, who had been watching the screen intently. "The United States, Mr President," Hank explained. "We don't believe these students intend to kill him. See the newspaper he holding? It is yesterday's. This film is to reassure us he is safe." Bobby could not read Farsi. But Hank had brought in a Mid-East expert who had assured them that a headline "Qom Shocks Esfahan 2-0!" could only be for September 11. Bobby had seen enough. The technician turned of the TV and began unplugging the bulky U-matic video recorder. "What must be done?" asked the President in unconscious imitation of the 'Nicky' character on BBC Kapital Radio, "Who do we take by the balls to get Jimmy released unharmed?" "Mr President, the Emperor fled when his army made it clear they could no longer support him after the most recent massacre by the Imperial Guard. The army are keeping to their barracks, the Imperial Guard have removed their uniforms and gone into hiding. The opposition is weak and divided. We face a power vacuum. There is no-one in charge we can grab hold of to release the Vice President." "But there must be a strong man waiting in the wings somewhere, Hank. There always is." "It's funny you should say that, Mr President," said Hank in professorial tones, "There is a holy man in Paris, in exile in effect. He is highly regarded in Iran. And a strong anti-Communist. Opposed to the Socialists in both Russia and Iraq." "Would he have influence over these students holding Jimmy?" "Certainly, Mr President. The slogans of the students are Shi'ite, not Communist. These students would do whatever he tells them." "Good. Get on the phone to our people in Paris, Hank. They are to get this holy man on the first plane to Tehran. Make him understand that American can be his friend but if anything happens to Jimmy it will go hard on him and his country." "Yes, Mr President!" Hank liked advancing international understanding.

(Wednesday, 15 September 1976) If anything, the Mid-East crisis was a bonus for Peggy, serving to increase the handsome margin for which Labour was already on course. The only consolation, thought Rab, was that at least the party was rid of that idiot. Perhaps Hezza could restore Conservative fortunes. Although looking from the wreckage of election night, it was a task that might take more than five years.

(Sunday, 3 October 1976) Jimmy's blond hair contrasted with his pink, blotchy skin that not even the make-up could fully hide. Viewers could not look at his face and fail to remember the frightened man on the 11 o'clock newscast, thinking he might be saying his last words, declaring that continence was not enough. And there was Dick. A two time loser, true. But relaxed. His tan and his stansgate made him look far more the sex symbol than his opponent. Although some viewers reported in focus groups that the beard made him look like Abraham Lincoln, only older and wiser. Those listening to the debate on the radio thought Candidate Carter had won. Only hardly anyone listened to the radio these days. [If you'll just let me continue.]