If the late Mary Whitehouse is looking down on us from heaven, she will surely, even in a state of spiritual perfection, be allowed the reflex of “I told you so!” when viewing current Westminster shenanigans.
Mrs Whitehouse, whom I interviewed several times over the course of her career, warned time and again that pornography would corrode the nation’s character and bring about political decline.
And so, I think she might say, it has proved. The avalanche of accusations about sexual offences, sexual harassment and “inappropriate” general conduct among parliamentarians is surely linked to the permissive society which Mary took arms against. She was, of course, ridiculed as a prude and a prohibitionist, and some of her views were a little off the point and disproportionate. But the nub of her crusade was that “the permissive society” would undermine morals and character.
Valerie Riches, when she co-founded what was then The Responsible Society (now called Family and Youth Concern), also made predictions that have been borne out by time. There was always a market for young flesh, she told me: young girls and boys would always be vulnerable to sexual predators, unless society took protective measures towards the young. She was very concerned – as was Victoria Gillick – that the powers that be, including the Family Planning Association, were too quick to promote sexualised material among the young in the guise of liberal sex education.
I am of the generation that first welcomed the “permissive society” of the 1960s, as a liberation from the restrictions of Victorian oppressiveness. Spontaneity and natural responses would replace starchy rules about not crossing your legs when you sat down, lest you show a flash of underwear. The prevailing motto of that permissive society was “If it feels good, do it!”
And now we see our MPs, and so many commanding figures in the performing arts, being arraigned for following that urge – doing whatever gratified their natural senses. Yet even Mary Whitehouse might consider some of the current reactions excessive. Entire careers are being ruined, it seems, for a touch on the knee or a pat on the derriere – former US president George Bush Sr, now in a wheelchair, has had to abjectly apologise for this gesture.
But Mrs W would surely say it all began with the porn culture and the permissive society. Mind you, if the spirit of the late Kingsley Amis is in some supernatural realm, he too will be claiming he was right when he used to warn: “Women are trouble! Keep them out of the institutions!”
Kingsley was wrong, but respect and sensitivity are required when the sexes are in work situations together.
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Next year, 2018, will mark the 100th anniversary of the first woman to be elected to the House of Commons. This was Constance Markievicz, fiery left-wing Anglo-Irish rebel (and Catholic convert), idolised by the Dublin poor for her strong socialist views.
Countess Markievicz’s Dublin home, 1 Frankfort Avenue, Rathgar, is now up for sale, and a beautiful Regency-style villa it is, having been refurbished and maintained by the current owners, Joan and Michael McNamara. It can be yours for €2.1 million. One hopes that whoever purchases it will respect its historical significance, but I think we can suppose it will not be a member of the Dublin poor.
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The Russian Revolution of 1917, whose centenary is marked this week, could be said to be an historic failure: Bolshevism came to produce gulags, show trials, persecution of faith, manufactured famines – Ukraine will never forget that torment – and, despite rocket science, backwardness for many ordinary people. In the 1980s, women were sweeping the streets with bundles of twigs tied together. I heard a Russian woman define happiness as “Helsinki” – because you could get vacuum cleaners in Finland.
Yet it has to be admitted that the Reds had the best tunes. The Internationale is still once of the most stirring anthems ever written (“Arise ye workers from your slumber! Arise ye prisoners of toil!”). The Italian Communist Party also specialised in great songs, including Bandiera Rossa.
My late husband liked to recall that when he first learned to sing this in the 1940s in Trieste, the refrain rang out: “Viva Stalino! Viva Stalino!” Awful guy, great melody!
Mary’s new book Am I a Feminist? Are You? is now out and available via Amazon
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