Jimmy Savile accused in ITV documentary

bb1 wrote:http://news.sky.com/story/998814/saviles-aide-lost-for-words-over-claims



Janet Cope pictured with Savile in 1979

She's groping him

Iain Martin is one of Britain's leading political commentators. A former editor of The Scotsman and deputy editor of The Sunday Telegraph, he's currently writing a book about the financial crisis. As well as this blog, he writes a column for The Sunday Telegraph. You can read more about Iain at iainmartinpolitics.com.

A Jimmy Savile inquiry? We might as well launch an investigation into the entire 1970s
By Iain Martin Politics Last updated: October 17th, 2012

Ed Miliband is still calling for an inquiry into the Jimmy Savile scandal. The Labour leader points out that there are now several inquiries running in parallel, alongside the police investigation. There are inquiries at the BBC, at the Health and Home Departments, at Broadmoor, and at assorted charities which the vile old charlatan managed to worm his way into. Miliband suggests bringing all these efforts under one roof. Presumably it would be a judge-led inquiry. Almost everything else seems to be these days.

The heart sinks. The tales of some of the victims are horrific, of course. Savile was a predatory paedophile who was somehow deemed a "national treasure" even though many millions of us – even as children – could see just from watching TV that he was a weirdo. All the time he was abusing.

But to deal with specific allegations the criminal law can be – and is being – put to work. The complication is obviously that the perpetrator is dead, but if there were alleged accomplices who are still living then they can expect a knock on the door from the police. Beyond that, if there are claims for compensation on the grounds of institutional negligence then the courts are also the appropriate place for it to be dealt with.

But an overarching inquiry? We might as well hold a public inquiry into the entire 1970s.

Clearly, Savile exploited the fact that in the late 1960s and early 1970s a baffled BBC, along with plenty of other institutions, was struggling to comprehend the explosion of youth culture and the impact of the sexual revolution. As others have observed, the BBC – until the end of the 1950s a Reithian, stiff upper lip, arbiter of British morality – didn't understand what was happening at rapid speed to the country. So it improvised a response.

A few years back the BBC produced a smug, knowing drama which satirised the events of that period. The campaigner Mary Whitehouse was portrayed as a stuffy, nagging nuisance blocking the path of liberalism, progress and sex. In the dramatisation, the DG of the day – Hugh Carlton Greene – was elevated to the status of a liberal demi-God. He was the leader of the younger, sophisticated BBC executives who were determined that they and the corporation should somehow "get with it".

But what did silly old Mary Whitehouse say? Didn't she warn that the liberal revolution would blur the lines between childhood and adulthood, and that the obsessive sexualisation of our culture was problematic? Was she too voracious in her campaign, making her easy for smart arses to caricature? Of course, but more than forty years on – surveying the foetid swamp in which Jimmy Savile was permitted to operate – it is surely worth recognising that she had a point.

It was in a state of confusion that the BBC of the 1960s established Radio 1, Top of the Pops and much else besides. To present and produce these new programmes, BBC bosses needed people who seemed to have some affinity with youth culture or the ability to talk the new lingo. Many of those it alighted on were perfectly good broadcasters and fine human beings. Jimmy Savile wasn't. But he came from the north, he understood the dance halls and clubs of the era (we now know how and why), he had stupid hair and he had a gift for daft catchphrases. With these qualifications he was hired, and presented the first edition of Top of the Pops in 1964.

He steadily attained the status of mini pop star, by the act of playing records and clowning around. In this endeavour he was a pioneer: famous only for being famous, with no discernible talent. Of course, he was several rungs below the people who actually made the records. But he had money, proximity to the real stars and license to do as he wished in his dressing room and beyond, because the BBC didn't want to be stuffy and stifle the "creativity" of those who were deemed to be "with it".
The great liberal myth of that period is that ever greater freedom naturally has positive effects and produces progress. Bring down all the barriers – on sex, drugs and, yes, rock 'n' roll – and you increase the scope for human happiness. Yet this assumes that all those who stand to benefit have good motives. To Jimmy Savile, and some other bad people, the BBC's rampant liberalism turned out to be just one giant opportunity to do harm to others who should have been protected.

This is not to say that the 1960s were without tremendous gains. Incredibly, homosexuality was illegal until 1967. British society is generally more relaxed and less uptight.

But in terms of sexual politics, it should be understood that the cultural revolution of the 1960s was a curiously one-sided affair, in men's favour. Although there were obvious benefits for women and men, it was not the mutually beneficial, rolling "summer of love" of myth. From the cynical males of the hard Left who saw free love as a one way bet, to the Savile types who regarded it as a "groper's charter", to the ramblings of various pop and rock stars well into the 1970s, it was an era characterised by sexism and even misogyny. Listen to certain songs of the period, from the Stones "Stupid Girl", through "Under My Thumb" and on, later, into the Faces "Stay with me". There was also a flirtation in some lyrics with the notion of women being under the age of consent. The Rolling Stones "Stray Cat Blues" from their 1968 album Beggars Banquet is a particularly notorious example.

Inevitably, by the mid-1970s, many of the rock stars, libertines and agitators of the 1960s had moved on. The rock stars had often headed into tax exile, living in large houses where they made bad records, drunk themselves to death or installed a gym and collected expensive art.

Extremist liberalism, however, continued transmitting itself into wider British culture as the 1970s got going. Meanwhile, after a decade riding the coat-tails of the revolution, Savile had been made untouchable. Astonishingly, he had been accorded that supposed national treasure status by the BBC, which meant his victims were too scared to speak out.

Those of us who grew up then – even those of us lucky enough to have been shielded and raised in a well-protected environment – know that the 1970s had some very dark aspects. But the era doesn't need the attention of a judge-led inquiry ordered by politicians who weren't even born when Savile introduced the first Top of the Pops. Instead it needs a good historian prepared to write a decent book on it.

Lamplighter wrote:The Record's piece is dated 15 Oct, the Mail's 17 October. She's done an about-face, probably scared stiff she might get accused of being 'in the know' which might be levelled at her as she was his PA for all that time. Is it possible she wasn't aware of what was going on? LL