Scandal

Tory MPs turn on Maria Miller – and Dave

Maria Miller is losing friends, fast. Furious briefing over the last 24 hours has seen a host of Tory MPs withdraw their support for the embattled Culture Secretary – and question the judgment of the Prime Minister. One ‘senior minister, speaking on condition of anonymity’, twisted the knife in the Telegraph: ‘In my view she has clearly behaved in a way that is incompatible with what she should be doing as a Cabinet minister. The decision to keep her on undermines the Prime Minister because he has talked about a new kind of politics.’ That outburst was followed by another Tory MP, who told the Evening Standard: ‘It’s ghastly, it’s just making us look

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What happens at conference stays at conference

Readers of yesterday’s Mail on Sunday were treated to what appeared to be the perfect ‘Tory Sleaze!’ story. But appearances can deceive. Here’s what the Mail reported: ‘A Tory Minister is involved in an extraordinary row over claims that taxpayers’ money was used to fund gay sex parties. The politician is said to have been in a feud with a senior party official accused of using dating app Grindr to invite gay MPs and activists to his suite at the Conservative Party conference.  Neither the Minister nor the official can be named by The Mail on Sunday for legal reasons.  The gay sex party is alleged to have taken place at

Francois Hollande is hacked off with the press

Francois Hollande, was framed by a set of panto-esque red curtains as he attempted to conduct a gigantic U-turn on fiscal policy while simultaneously fending off interest in the identity of the First Lady of France. The President wanted to sound and appear dignified; but it seemed to Mr S that his make-up had been painted by a malevolent clown. The leader of the Fifth Republic puckered his tiny, baby pink lips and proceeded with his economic statement. My filthy Anglo-Saxon mind made it seem that the spiel began with a procession of double entendres. ‘We’re talking about going faster, going further, going in more depth,’ he promised. ‘We must

The President, his mistress and the Mob

There was a moment when it looked like French Closer had done President Hollande a favour. His poll ratings have been abysmal and the economy has tanked. What better distraction than a little ooh la la? Scandals such as these reveal the character of a nation and its politics. If a British minister had dispatched his chauffeur to fetch post-coital croissants, there would have been delirious uproar about the misuse of taxpayers’ money. But the French have never really cared about politicians wasting their money: National Assembly Deputies take home the equivalent of £211,000 in pay, and enjoy completely unaudited expenses. Most Parisians seem more surprised that the much derided

The Duck House is the best show in the West End

It’s taken me a few months to catch up with the political farce The Duck House. Then again, it’s taken The Duck House a few years to catch up with the expenses scandal that it mocks. The story is set in the half-forgotten era of 2009. Robert Houston, a glib New Labour high-flier, is planning to defect to the Conservatives on the eve of the general election. His scheme, which is a little hard to decipher, is to stand for the Tories in his safe Labour seat and to persuade his Labour supporters to join him in a mass conversion to Conservatism. Having pulled off this piece of electoral magic,

What was the secret of Queen Victoria’s rebel daughter?

Princess Louise (1848–1939), Queen Victoria’s fourth daughter, was the prettiest and liveliest of the five princesses, and the only one who broke out of the royal bubble. Artistically talented, she trained as a sculptor, and her marble statue of Queen Victoria can still be seen in Kensington Gardens. Unlike her sisters, who all married royals, Louise became the wife of a commoner, Lord Lorne, later Duke of Argyll. The marriage was childless and unhappy, and the couple lived separate lives. Like that other rebel, Princess Margaret, Louise was clever but difficult. She could be charming and witty one moment and unexpectedly disagreeable the next. She kicked against the royal rules,

William Astor: My father, his swimming pool and the Profumo scandal

[audioplayer src=”http://traffic.libsyn.com/spectator/TheViewFrom22_9_January_2014_v4.mp3″ title=”Richard Davenport-Hines discusses the Profumo affair’s enduring appeal”] Listen [/audioplayer]Christine Keeler and Jack Profumo might never have met in the swimming pool at Cliveden if it had not been for a filly called Ambiguity. As children, growing up at Cliveden, we all swam in the Thames. In the summer, the river was cold, dark and full of sludge, but my grandmother Nancy Astor, a devout Christian Scientist, thought it good for us. Then Ambiguity, my father’s filly, won the Oaks and with the prize money a heated swimming pool was built — and the rest, as they say, is history. Or Andrew Lloyd Webber’s theatrical version of history,

The Revd Paul Flowers ticked all the right ‘progressive’ boxes — that’s why he could get away with anything

Listen to Melanie Phillips and Jesse Norman discuss Paul Flowers: [audioboo url=”https://audioboo.fm/boos/1746120-melanie-phillips-vs-jesse-norman-on-revd-paul-flowers”/] Yet again, one particular question has formed on lips up and down the land. How in heaven’s name could so many people have failed to spot such a spectacular abuse of a public position? We heard it first in the Jimmy Savile scandal, when the posthumous discovery of half a century of predation left people incredulous that so many had known about but done nothing to stop his serial depravities. Now a similar question needs to be asked about the Revd Paul Flowers, the disgraced Methodist minister and former chairman of the Co-op Bank who was filmed apparently

Denis MacShane pleads guilty to expenses fraud

The expenses continues to cast a long shadow. Denis MacShane entered a guilty plea at the Old Bailey this morning. As the Press Association reports: ‘The ex-MP admitted false accounting by putting in fake receipts for £12,900 of “research and translation” services. He used the money to fund trips to Europe, including to judge a literary competition in Paris.’ MacShane will be sentenced on 19 December, and he has been granted unconditional bail. All sentencing options remain open to the court. MacShane says that he did not profit personally from the claims; but concedes that he made a ‘grotesque mistake’.

Rob Ford: a ‘role model for down and out kids’

Attentive Spectator readers will recall Leah McClaren’s takedown of Rob Ford, the…err…shall we say embattled Mayor of Toronto. At the time, Ford was busy denying reports that he had smoked crack; allegations he has since accepted, saying that he sparked up while in a ‘drunken stupor’ – as you do. Ford faces new allegations following the release of documents that record police interviews given by members of his staff and the public about his alleged behaviour on the evening of St Patrick’s Day 2012. It is alleged that Ford passed some time in the company of a ‘young, attractive blonde woman named Alana’ – no prizes for guessing how she apparently

Can virgins have babies?

Mrs Christabel Russell, the heroine of Bevis Hillier’s sparkling book, was a very modern young woman. She had short blonde hair which she wore in two large curls on the side of her head, she was wildly social and she was a fearless horsewoman. In 1920 she set up a fashionable dress shop, Christabel Russell Ltd, at 1 Curzon Street. At the end of the first world war she had married John Russell, known as ‘Stilts’ (he was 6’5” tall), the heir to Lord Ampthill, a cousin of the Duke of Bedford. His snobbish and crusty parents disapproved furiously of the marriage. The young couple spent little time together. Christabel,

Natalie Rowe’s strange duet with Marvin Gaye

Among the more bizarre parts of Natalie Rowe’s Chief Whip, of which Mr S wrote earlier, is her alleged encounter with Marvin Gaye. The scribbling dominatrix even claims that she sang a duet with the deceased singer while they were on their way to buy cocaine at six in the morning: ‘As we walked an idea hit me. “Marvin?” “Yeah.” “Could we sing a duet?” “Sure. What do you want to sing?” “You Are Everything.” I cleared my throat and started to sing and he sang back. It had been a long night and our throats weren’t at their freshest but, as he held my hand as we sang in

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Who is Natalie Rowe’s ‘Joe’?

The only question on lips this morning: Who is Joe? This mysterious character lurks on the pages of a new book by Natalie Rowe, a former prostitute and dominatrix who was once photographed with George Osborne. Rowe will only confirm that ‘Joe’ was ‘a young politician’ when she knew him and that he became a minister. It has been made very clear that ‘Joe’ is not the Chancellor of the Exchequer, so who is he? ‘There was a spark of attraction ­between us. We once had a snog at one of my parties and, as we chatted, he told me he’d never had a black girl before. Not because he didn’t want

I’d vote for DSK the pimp over Weiner the ‘sexter’

You can’t keep a good pervert down. Every time the Dominique Strauss-Kahn saga – l’affaire DSK, to give it its nom propre – threatens to fade from view, it rears its dirty head again. The latest is that DSK was, according to a leaked document written by the magistrates investigating his case, a ‘pimp party king’ (‘Roi de la fete’) who lorded it over various complicated orgies with prostitutes. The parties amounted to ‘aggressive pimping’ (‘proxénétisme aggravé’) and were ‘carnage on a pile of mattresses’, say the judges, who appear to be enjoying their indictment. The headlines reminded me of a recent encounter with a European politician at the Spectator offices. Does

Anthony Weiner’s wiener and the left/right divide

Everyone needs something to brighten up their day. And Anthony Weiner has once again come up with the goods. Readers will recall that the Democrat politician had to resign from the US Congress two years ago after a technological mishap meant he sent a photo of his penis (or ‘wiener’ in American slang) to all of his Twitter followers instead of to the one woman he had meant to. Initially claiming that his account had been hacked (see here) Weiner then had to admit that the wiener was his (as were a string of ‘sexting’ conservations with young women) and humiliatingly stood down from office (the attempted cover-up being significantly

Congratulations, Rob Ford: you’ve finally made me despise you

The first thing you see after leaving the baggage carousel at Toronto’s Pearson airport is an enormous photograph of Mayor Rob Ford. In it, the former high school football coach grins in his blingy regalia, teeth yellowed, one eye squinting in a semi-wink. His scalp is flushed and shiny through a receding blond hairline and his excessive girth spreads well beyond the frame. The overall effect is of a bloated albino lab rat on the wrong side of a thyroid drug trial. I always felt a bit sorry for him looking at it. Not any more. Last week details of a video emerged that features the mayor, shirt unbuttoned, apparently

Going, going, gong

Comedy bad boy Heydon Prowse, famed for digging a pound sign into Alan Duncan’s front lawn at the height of the expenses scandal, was honoured for his services with a golden gong at Sunday night’s Baftas. Steerpike hears he hit the celebrations at the Southbank Centre after-party a little too hard. Prowse was the last guest standing, running around asking if anyone had seen his Bafta. When he finally surfaced he told me: ‘I left it on the dance floor. You have no idea how heavy those things are, like genuinely heavy.’ But who would pinch a gong at an awards show? Prowse has a theory: ‘I reckon the Made in Chelsea

Ceremonies of Bravery: Oscar Wilde, Carlos Blacker, and the Dreyfus Affair by J. Robert Maguire – review

The life of Oscar Wilde is so wearily familiar that we assume that there is nothing new to think or say about him. This book proves us wrong. Carlos Blacker – the central figure of  J. Robert Maguire’s research for more than half a century – rates, at best, a bare mention in Wilde’s many biographies. Yet, as Maguire conclusively demonstrates, he is no footnote. Blacker, a handsome man of Latin extraction, knew Wilde in the days of his London pomp, was a witness at the writer’s wedding to the long-suffering Constance Lloyd, and often saw his friend on a daily basis. Wilde’s own testimony after his fall is ample

Blonde ambition

Seems a little weird to be rabbiting about sport at a time when a malign confederacy of sanctimonious do-gooders, vengeful politicians, hypocritical celebrities and hatchet-faced lefties has brought about the biggest threat to press freedom since Uncle Adolf started on his European adventures. But at least we have this fine journal which has refused to sign up to any new system of state licensing of the press. How long before a newspaper has the guts to follow the Spec’s lead? As more than one commentator has pointed out, try to imagine reading the following sentence in the New York Times: ‘The Senate and House of Representatives last night agreed on

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Steerpike | 21 March 2013

Westminster’s top amateur prize-fighter, Eric Joyce, may face assault charges after his latest unscheduled bout in the House of Commons. The Falkirk MP had to be restrained last week after an alleged unseemly set-to at the Sports and Social Club. Ex-soldier Joyce first revealed his flair for pugilism in February 2012 when he ‘went berserk’ in the Strangers’ Bar after declaring it ‘full of fucking Tories’. ‘He won’t have that problem in the nick,’ says a Conservative friend. ‘It’s full of Lib Dems.’   Panic in Whitehall! Jeremy Hunt’s decision to dump health officials in hospital wards in order to give them ‘first-hand experience’ on the front-line has caused alarm among