William Reesmogg

Friends, rivals and countrymen

From our UK edition

This is an ideal John Murray book, dealing with historic personalities, with a narrative reinforced by family papers and an understanding deepened by family connection. Robert Lloyd George, the author, is the great-grandson of David Lloyd George, the prime minister. I hope it will be a best- seller, and can imagine it being un- wrapped, with real pleasure, from parcels beneath half the Christmas trees of Old England. What is surprising is that a book on this friendship has never been written before. David Lloyd George was the prime minister who won the first world war; Winston Churchill was the prime minister who won the second.

Practising to deceive

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There are two views about the morality of political lying. The first is the classical British view that politicians should always tell the truth, as people should in private life. This view is usually qualified, as William Waldegrave qualified it before the Treasury and Civil Services Committee of the House of Commons: ‘In exceptional circumstances it is necessary to say something that is untrue to the House of Commons. The House of Commons understands that and accepts that.’ Such lies are only justified to protect a major public interest, where a refusal to answer would be taken as a confirmation of the fact, as in devaluation of the currency.

Diary – 12 March 2005

From our UK edition

About once a decade, the editor of The Spectator asks me to write a diary column. I always accept, though diaries, contrary to what might be supposed, are among the most difficult types of journalism to write. I accept partly because I like The Spectator, and partly because of an early memory of Peter Fleming; he was Ian Fleming’s brother and, before the Bond books appeared, much the better known of the two. He was the author of a weekly Spectator diary. As a schoolboy I wrote a letter of comment on something he had written. Peter was a kind man and replied with the sort of encouraging letter journalists ought to write to 13-year-old critics of their arguments. I have known nine editors of The Spectator, all as personal friends and none as personal enemies.