Gianfranco Baldini - 25/06/2012

     Almost one year has passed (4 July 2011) since the outbreak of the Murdoch scandal and we still can’t quite make out what the long-run consequences on the survival of the Cameron government might be. At the current time the issue fits into a context that is all but straightforward for the prime minister. The administrative elections in early May went badly in every sense: over 400 seats lost by the Conservatives in the country and his rival Boris Johnson confirmed as mayor in London are – whatever may be said as to this latter aspect – a real slap in the face for Cameron. It is true that often whoever is in office loses the local elections (but even more so the European ones), but this fact falls within a climate that has been negative for the party for several years.

     In the most recent surveys the percentage gap from the Labour Party led by the poorly charismatic Ed Miliband is close to or over ten per cent and the recession is biting at a pace similar to that of the Eurozone. The Minister for the Economy Osborne – Cameron’s closest ally – is a highly controversial figure. A budget that has cut taxes on the richest and has caused a lot of debate on very unpopular taxes has had a major impact. Cameron supported, albeit unenthusiastically, Sarkozy’s re-election, and today he has to find a way to mediate with Hollande in the many open matches with France. The Prime Minister can console himself with the celebrations for the Queen’s diamond jubilee, and hope in the success of the upcoming London Olympics.

     Whichever way things go, the Murdoch scandal is having quite some impact on Cameron’s popularity, who ten days ago was called to testify at the commission of inquiry chaired by Lord Leveson, set up a few days after the outbreak of the scandal. According to some he did not fare too badly, but the criticisms have also started coming from inside his party. The facts are well-known and it is worthwhile summing them up broadly, to highlight all the murky outlines of an event that continues to spring some surprises. The tabloids are used to searching around in the mud. But the limit was passed when it came to the light that the News of the World had intercepted the telephone call of a 13-year old girl who had vanished and was later murdered ten years ago. So a Pandora’s box was opened from which all the governments of the past 15 years (but in many ways also from the Thatcherite era), from Blair onwards, were widely conditioned by the close relations with the more influential press: the Sun’s attack on Labour on the day of the 1992 elections is famous, being critical, according to some, for the victory of the Conservatives.

      This year several chiefs in the Murdoch group have fallen: Rebekah Brooks and Andy Coulson, chief executive of the group and former director of the News of the World, respectively, are the best known faces. If for the latter the appointment to chief of communications of the new Prime Minister Cameron, two years ago, was the demonstration of the symbiosis between media and politics, even the dissemination of highly confidential text messages with Murdoch’s favourite has caused no little embarrassment.

     But it is in the political field that the most serious threats have come for Cameron. The current Culture Minister Jeremy Hunt is the most debated character. Charged with following Murdoch’s takeover (he holds 40% of the shares) of the TV broadcaster BSkyB, he has had to admit “dangerous relations” with several key figures of the Australian tycoon’s group. The question risks leading to quite a lot of tension in the delicate coalition balance with the Liberal-Democrats. The vote of no-confidence in Hunt called for by the Labour MPs in Parliament saw the abstention of Clegg’s party: a way to save him, but to take one’s distances. Clegg, who has gone through difficult moment in these past two years of coalition government, has been appreciated for having stated in the hearing of the Leveson Commission that his Party has paid the price for having been more distant from Murdoch as compared with the two major parties.

     British journalism has something for everyone: from the world excellence of the Economist and the Financial Times (but also The Times, Guardian and Independent), to the plethora of low quality tabloids (too many to mention). Murdoch has a bit of everything: from The Times to the binomial Sun/News of the World he has conquered 40% of the market of the printed press in the country. In the report on the press 2011/12 by Reporter without Frontiers, British press freedom was in 28th place in the world: ten years ago it was in 21st place. Obviously the decline is due to a series of factors, and it cannot be solely traced back to Murdoch’s role. But it is a fact that one of the countries in which freedom of press is historically strongest and consolidated in the world today finds itself having to come to terms with a rather murky picture, at least over the past 20-30 years.

     There is no shortage of polemics over the Leveson Commission itself either, linked to the fact that its chairman himself has been a frequent guest at those famous parties in which the relations between the press mogul and the incumbent governments grew stronger in these past few years. The other key theme concerns the regulating of the whose media system, which seems to be inadequate in view of the current context. Who control the rules and the controllers? The Murdoch question poses several challenges both to the Cameron government and, more in general, to the British political system as well. The debate on relations between media and politics is destined to continue at length.

Gianfranco Baldini
(University of Bologna)