Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Chattering of politicians

I was looking at Trollope’s The Warden just to remind myself that there is nothing at all new in the idea of an over powerful, overweening press.

Consider Tom Towers, of The Jupiter (a thinly disguised Times, whose nickname was already established as The Thunderer)

… what member of Parliament had half his power? … He loved to sit silent in a corner of his club and listen to the loud chattering of politicians, and to think how they all were in his power;—how he could smite the loudest of them, were it worth his while to raise his pen for such a purpose.

He loved to watch the great men of whom he daily wrote, and flatter himself that he was greater than any of them. Each of them was responsible to his country, each of them must answer if inquired into, each of them must endure abuse with good humour, and insolence without anger. But to whom was he, Tom Towers, responsible?

No one could insult him; no one could inquire into him. He could speak out withering words, and no one could answer him: ministers courted him, though perhaps they knew not his name; bishops feared him; judges doubted their own verdicts unless he confirmed them; and generals, in their councils of war, did not consider more deeply what the enemy would do, than what The Jupiter would say …

Tom Towers considered himself the most powerful man in Europe; and so he walked on from day to day, studiously striving to look a man, but knowing within his breast that he was a god.
Well the emperor may have been humbled yesterday by Parliament, but nobody else has emerged as a god.