The Sunday Times has confirmed that Myers won’t write for it again. A good thing too; these kind of things have no place in modern society, and it’s shocking that it appeared at all.
When I read the news, Myers’s name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I’d come across him before.
But a quick Google later, I remembered that I’d actually featured him in my biography of Basil Clarke, the father of the UK public relations industry (who led the British propaganda effort in Dublin during the Irish War of Independence).
Given Myers’s newfound noteriety, I thought it would be worth sharing the relevant passage. What follows below is a slightly adapted extract from From the Frontline.
For many years after the Irish War of Independence, Clarke’s role was largely forgotten. As much as he was mentioned at all, it was in passing, along with the other civil servants at Dublin Castle.
Then in the early 1990s, this began to change. The Irish journalist Kevin Myers wrote that Terence Macswiney, whose death by hunger strike in 1920 had helped win sympathy for Sinn Fein’s cause, had been part of a group that had planned to kidnap and possibly murder the Bishop of Cork. The allegation angered Macswiney’s family and they complained to Myers that it was untrue.
Myers agreed to write another article to make this clear and in this article,
published in the Irish Times in January 1992, he blamed Clarke for the deceit:
“Terence Macswiney’s family understandably are upset that this allegation should have been printed. The least I can do is to accept willingly and fully that it was a lie, and express utter regret that I did not recognise it for what it was.
“It is one of the perils of journalism that the skilled liar is always at an advantage; and perhaps in the regions where Basil Clark [sic] currently resides he permits himself a small smile that his lies live after him; a lamentable achievement.”
It was a crass piece of journalism, but it seems to have resurrected the idea first established by the Irish Bulletin [Sinn Fein’s newspaper during the War of Independence] that Clarke was a sinister hidden hand behind the British propaganda campaign…
It is certainly true that Clarke’s department issued statements that were
factually inaccurate, but there is no real evidence to suggest that any incorrect statement issued by Clarke was done knowingly.
Indeed, Clarke’s approach, which he called “propaganda by news”, relied on building the trust of newspapers and he complained to colleagues about being given inaccurate information. He even once ran into trouble for refusing to issue a statement he doubted the veracity of.
The historian Ian Kenneally offers a more credible assessment of Clarke’s role in Ireland: “While he was not an outright deceiver, his job was to portray the Crown forces in as positive light as possible.”
Clarke was long dead by the time of Myers’s article and so was unable to defend himself, but a letter he wrote to The People newspaper in Wexford in January 1934, some 12 years after leaving Ireland, gives a good idea of what his reaction would have been.
Responding to an article that criticised the propaganda issued by his Dublin Castle Press Bureau, he wrote:
“It is a fact that I never gave, or authorised the giving, to the Press of any information that was not substantiated by official reports … That early reports, wired in code to the Castle, and handed on by me to the Press, sometimes proved inaccurate, cannot be laid at the door of my department.
“My mind is so clear of guilt on the matter that I was surprised and rather sad to see myself handed on by you to present-day Ireland as something of a scheming villain, one who had set a precedent to be avoided in official administration.”
It is exactly 100 years ago today that the Daily Mail published an article that, although it has been completely forgotten today, caused a huge global scandal that, according to the Economist, ‘has brought us to the verge of collision with neutral countries’.
It centred on the British blockade of Germany, which was aimed at preventing the importing food and other supplies.
But while its objective may have been straightforward, its implementation was complicated by the fact that Germany had land borders with neutral countries such as Denmark and the Netherlands. This meant that for the blockade to be truly effective, the British also had to stop goods being imported to neutral countries and then being sent on to Germany. The situation was so difficult that goods from Britain itself were being exported to neutral countries and then sent on to Germany.
As well as the practical difficulties, the British feared that restricting the trade of neutral countries might alienate them.
Publicly, the Government insisted the blockade was robust and effective, but privately its officials knew it was not working. Concerns began to enter the public domain towards the end of 1915, with opposition MPs questioning its effectiveness in the House of Commons, and the Daily Mirror calling it ‘our slipshod blockade’.
Yet this criticism did not seriously damage the Government because there was no strong evidence to support it. And so Lord Northcliffe, the owner of the Daily Mail who had already seriously wounded (some thought fatally) the Liberal government with his coverage of the shells crisis in 1915, sent reporter Basil Clarke to Copenhagen at the end of 1915 to try to find that evidence.
Clarke started his investigation into the blockade by trying to get import statistics from the Danish Government, only to be told it had stopped issuing them and had banned their publication. He did, though, manage to find a Danish trade newspaper called the Borsen that listed imports to Copenhagen.
While these figures did not include imports to other Danish ports, Clarke thought they might at least give an indication of whether more goods were being imported than before the war. So he hired an out-of-work Danish journalist to undertake the laborious task of taking the totals for each merchant and each ship for every day in 1915 and adding them together to give totals for
all the imports into Copenhagen for the whole year.
The results were staggering. In 1913, the whole of Denmark had imported 2,860 tons of rice, but according to Clarke’s figures Copenhagen alone had imported 16,625 tons in 1915. In 1913, Denmark had imported 4,000 tons of lard, but the 1915 total for Copenhagen was 15,000 tons. Pork imports followed a similar pattern, with 950 tons imported to Denmark in 1913 rising to 12,500 tons for Copenhagen in 1915.
Clarke immediately realised the figures compiled from this obscure Danish journal would be a major international story. He thought that some of the increase could be explained by reductions in imports from Germany and an increase in exports to Sweden and Russia, but he did not believe these explanations could account for the scale of the increase, which meant he had uncovered apparently incontrovertible evidence that goods were being shipped to Denmark and then being sent on to Germany.
While the Danish journalist had been compiling the import data, Clark had spent time at the docks at Copenhagen and seen sacks, boxes and barrels being loaded onto German-bound boats. He heard orders being given in German and even saw some boats flying the German flag. Clarke managed to get on board one of these boats and travelled in it to Malmo in Sweden with a cargo of oils, fats and iron. Once they arrived at Malmo, the cargo was unloaded onto the quay to wait for a German steamer.
With his observations supporting the Borsen’s statistics, he was confident that he had strong evidence that the blockade was being routinely flouted and so he returned to England. When Northcliffe heard the results of his investigation, he was so pleased that he invited Clarke to his house for lunch.
As Clarke sat down at the table with the other guests, the waitress asked him if he would prefer white or red wine with his meal and he asked for a glass of the white.
‘No you don’t, my boy,’ Northcliffe said, snatching the newly poured wine away. ‘You’ve got that blockade article to write this afternoon.’
Northcliffe was so keen for the article to be given Clarke’s full attention that after lunch he personally took him back to the Daily Mail and installed him in the directors’ room so he could write without being disturbed.
As he sat down to begin working, Clarke must have had many pages of notes in front of him. But he was able to summarise his findings in a five-word introduction that was as devastating as it was succinct: ‘We are feeding the Germans’.
His article, published in the Daily Mail on 12 January 1916, made the shocking allegation that ‘ship after ship and train after train, as I have seen for myself, are still pouring the world’s goods into Germany’. ‘In setting out the facts on which these deplorable conclusions are based,’ he wrote, ‘I will try to keep from my presentation of them any distortion due to the disgust and burning anger that they evoke in me, as they must do any patriot of this Empire.’
He went on to set out the statistics for how greatly imports to Denmark seemed to have increased since the start of the war, explaining how the Borsen figures represented a 375 per cent increase in imports of lard and a 1,300 per cent increase for pork. After setting out similar increases for cocoa and coffee, he argued that the only possible explanation was that the extra goods were going to Germany. ‘[Denmark’s] 2,900,000 population could not use so much cocoa and coffee, for instance, if they drank nothing else night and day,’ he wrote. ‘To argue that Denmark is using these commodities herself is mere foolishness. She is exporting, of course.’
The article was accompanied by a scathing editorial. Headlined ‘Deplorable, Pernicious, and Dangerous’, it lambasted the Government for letting down ‘the young men who form the flower of this nation’ by failing to take ‘proper steps to cut off the supply of food which sustains the Germans of the material for making ammunition with which the Germans are to kill our men’.
The publication of Clarke’s article caused an immediate worldwide sensation.
Newspapers around the world repeated the Daily Mail’s claim that the Government’s failure to impose an adequate blockade was a betrayal of the men who were fighting and dying at the Front.
Yet despite the seriousness of the allegation and the fact that it struck at the heart of the Government’s competence to run the war, there does not initially seem to have been any real attempt to rebut it.
The lack of a government response did not mean Clarke and the Daily Mail were about to let the story drop. Over the next few days there were two follow-up articles, one by Clarke claiming British tyres were being used on German cars and the other a leader column accusing the Government of running a ‘sham blockade’.
The editorial demanded that the Admiralty be put in charge of it and warned ominously that Britain ‘is going to insist on a real blockade of Germany and it will make short work of its Ministers if they do not convert their sham blockade into a real strangle-hold’.
Five days after Clarke’s initial article, he wrote another piece headlined ‘Sham Blockade’ and in the same edition it was reported that Parliament was planning to debate the issue. Then the following day the conservative Morning Post joined the Daily Mail in criticising the blockade.
One of its reporters had uncovered separate statistics suggesting Germany had imported 4 million pairs of boots from the United States in 1915, which it used as evidence that ‘Germany has been permitted by the British Government to import through neutral countries essential supplies to an amount exceeding the amount imported by her in time of peace’.
The Daily Mail welcomed the Morning Post article with an editorial that demanded that control of the blockade be taken from the Foreign Office and given to the Admiralty, which consisted of seamen who it believed were the only ones in government with ‘the requisite knowledge to conduct it’. Then it maintained the pressure with another article by Clarke about how workers at Dunlop‘s Birmingham plant had demanded assurances before agreeing to work on a consignment of tyres for Copenhagen, telling the company’s management they were ‘not going to make tyres for the Germans’. The protest was only settled, Clarke reported, when managers were able to prove the tyres would not be sent on to Germany.
By now, almost a week had passed since Clarke’s first article and, if anything, interest in the story appeared to be increasing. It was around this time that the Government began to fight back. The Westminster Gazette, which was generally considered to be a mouthpiece for the Government, published an editorial on 18 January defending the blockade: ‘Whatever else it may be, the blockade is not a sham … whether it can be made more effective still is a question which concerns us all, but we are not at the beginning of wisdom on that subject until we understand the very real difficulties which surround this question. It alarms us to see these very difficult and delicate questions … discussed without, apparently, any understanding of the necessary conditions.’
In the same edition, the Westminster Gazette reported that the Government had recently sent ‘a business man of eminence’ to Scandinavia, and he had concluded the blockade was working well. ‘Such a man would have very much better means of examining the situation from within than any correspondent sent out to make a case against the Government,’ it suggested.
Clarke responded to this claim a week later, writing that an attempt to ‘discredit my figures has been made by a vague allusion to a visit of enquiry by “an eminent man of business”’ that he understood to be a reference to the financier and politician Sir Alexander Henderson. ‘Sir Alexander, if he reported “all well” with our blockade, was wrong,’ wrote Clarke.
The day after its claim about the ‘business man of eminence’, the Westminster Gazette urged its readers not to ‘be led away by mere clamour’, and then the following day rubbished Clarke’s articles as ‘only a phase of the conspiracy to bring the Government down’ that was being orchestrated by Northcliffe.
It quoted an anonymous MP who claimed to detect a sinister motive behind the articles: ‘If the Daily Mail would study the German papers, instead of talking about statistics which it does not understand, it would get a little nearer the truth of the effects of our blockade. But it does not want to do this, because it is out not to beat Germany, but to destroy the Coalition Government at home, by the continual process of sapping and undermining its prestige and authority … The country believes the stories about our feeding Germany, and the Government must do everything in its power to make the truth known, and rebut these calumnies, or it may find it difficult to exert its authority in the administration of the law.’
By this stage, Clarke was expending as much energy responding to criticism of his articles as he was to making the case against the Government. On 20 January, for example, he described the suggestion that the extra imports to Copenhagen were being sent on to Russia rather than Germany as ranking ‘among the very poorest of all the bad arguments that have been put forward to defend our sham blockade,’ before going on to claim that Russia had ‘almost negligible’ trade with Denmark.
The story had by now been running for nearly two weeks and still the Daily Mirror reported that businessmen in the City of London were ‘discussing nothing else but the inefficiency of the blockade’ and that ‘a great popular demand for freedom of action for our Fleet is growing in force every hour’, with the ‘man in the street … crying out for a check to be put upon this abuse
It was not just in London that Clarke sparked debate, with the Livingstone Mail in Northern Rhodesia calling the blockade’s effectiveness ‘one of the questions of the hour’.
So when a scheduled statement to the House of Commons about the blockade was delayed for a week, it must have added to the impression that the Government was in crisis.
On 21 January, the Westminster Gazette admitted that MPs ‘realise that these articles have shaken public confidence to some extent’ and on the same day, the New York Times reported that public discussion of the blockade ‘continues bitterly’.
With almost every day that passed, the Daily Mail published a new article.
On 22 January, Clarke reported that a Viennese newspaper had recently published an advert for 40 tons of prime beef from the Netherlands, and a weekly supply of a wagon full of cement and linseed oil from Denmark.
On 24 January, at the start of the week when the blockade was scheduled to be discussed in the House of Commons, one Danish newspaper reported that ‘every capital in Europe is full of the sensational rumours used by Mr Clarke’.
The Daily Mail began the week by trying to rally the public to put pressure on their elected representatives: ‘If you have near and dear ones in any of our fighting forces, you cannot do better this Monday morning than by bringing some pressure – postal, telephonic, or verbal – upon any member of Parliament to get him to stop the food and explosive supplies we are permitting to pass into Germany. By so doing you can shorten the war and save lives.’
On the Tuesday, the day before the Parliamentary debate, the Daily Mail published yet another article by Clarke, this time addressing claims that a tighter blockade would threaten relations with neutral countries.
‘It has about as much reality as our “blockade of Germany”,’ he wrote. ‘My experience of neutrals and neutral countries during this war is pretty extensive, and it is that they are amazed at the extent of the trade powers we leave in the hands of neutrals.’
As Clarke wrote these words, he would have expected that the day after they were published the Government would finally give its official reply.
Actually, he did not even have to wait that long.
On the same day, 25 January, the Government unexpectedly issued a lengthy memorandum responding both to Clarke’s articles and those in the Morning Post.
The memorandum was forensic in its detail. And while it lacked the hyperbole of Clarke’s articles, it rebutted the allegations in a way that was quietly devastating and showed that the Daily Mail’s confidence that it was ‘beyond possibility’ for Clarke’s story to be repudiated had been badly misplaced.
The memorandum showed that the Government had spent the previous two weeks carefully preparing its defence. It had tracked down copies of the Borsen and discovered its figures included consignments bound for other countries. The memorandum gave the example of a cargo of rice and pineapples that were included in the Borsen figures but were actually being shipped to Norway.
It also revealed that some goods were only allowed to continue to Denmark if the British were guaranteed that they would either be returned to Britain or stored in Denmark until the end of the war. This was because some goods covered by the blockade were stored near the bottom of the ship, which meant removing them would involve unloading the whole ship and lead to delays and congestion in ports.
Yet the Borsen had listed the contents of the whole cargo, even when much of it was to be returned to Britain or stored in Denmark.
The memorandum argued that this had significantly inflated the Daily Mail’s figures for 1915.
Having pointed out two general problems with Clarke’s conclusions, it then systematically went through each type of goods mentioned in the original Daily Mail article. With rice, for example, it accused Clarke of failing to compare like with like, because the 1913 total had only included rice meal or ground rice, while the 1915 total included whole rice, rice groats and rice meal. It also suggested that any increase to rice imports could be explained by the fact that the price of rice had increased by much less than the price of pearl barley or oatmeal.
While these arguments were in themselves enough to raise serious doubts about Clarke’s figures, the memorandum’s final point was perhaps most effective in undermining the credibility of both the story and also of Clarke himself.
Clarke had got his maths wrong.
In his original article, he had reported that the increase in lard imports from 4,000 tons to 15,000 tons had represented a 375 per cent rise. In fact, this is a 275 per cent increase. Similarly, he claimed the increase in pork imports from 950 tons to 12,500 tons was a 1,300 per cent increase. It should have been 1,216 per cent. There were similar mistakes in other calculations.
Considering how obvious it must have been that his article would be highly contentious, it is extraordinary both that Clarke made such basic mistakes in the first place but also that nobody at the Daily Mail seems to have bothered checking the percentages before publishing them. The error made a mockery of the Daily Mail’s claim in the editorial accompanying the first article that Clarke was ‘an able man, with great experience in sifting and analysing facts
Perhaps the most frustrating thing for Clarke was that the correct percentages still represented huge increases and there is little difference, from the point of view of constructing an argument, between an increase of 375 per cent and 275 per cent, or between 1,300 per cent and 1,216 per cent. This was a point Clarke made in his response to the memorandum in the following day’s Daily Mail, as he tried to defend what he must have known was a serious error by accusing the Government of splitting hairs:
‘My percentages, Alas! were wrong in some cases. The increase in rice imports, for instance, should have been only a tiny 480 per cent, not 580; lard a mere 275 per cent, not 375 per cent, pork only 1,216 per cent, not 1,300 per cent; and so on. To have reduced each of these totals by 100 may give the War Trade Arithmetic Department much joy, but it does not show that extra food in colossal quantities is not going into Germany – as it undoubtedly is.’
Clarke also accepted that the Government’s point about goods being stored in Denmark or being sent back to the UK might be ‘partly true’, but he questioned whether this really had a significant effect on the totals. He also expressed his frustration at the fact that the Government response had dealt only with the Borsen statistics, whereas he saw these figures as only part of a wider investigation.
‘Let me say at once that had the Borsen figures alone been the evidence on which I asserted that Denmark is acting as a food-getter for Germany I might too have been doubtful,’ he wrote. ‘But these figures were but a fraction of the sum total evidence I collected and wrote.’
Clarke’s response was accompanied by an editorial that weakly tried to excuse the errors in the percentages – ‘No doubt these statistics contained inaccuracies. Most statistics do’ – and then wrongly attributed the errors to a Danish Government statistician. Then, like Clarke’s own article, it attempted to put the Government back on the defensive by highlighting the fact that it had not made ‘the slightest attempt to dispute any of Mr Clarke’s own statements concerning what he saw and heard with his own eyes and ears about the vast volume of supplies pouring through the Danish ports into Germany’.
As part of the Northcliffe press’s response, The Times published a letter by Clarke in which he reasserted his claim that the blockade was leaking: ‘There is still an ample margin of truth left in those Danish returns, even accepting the contention that they are not absolutely accurate, to justify the deduction I drew from them, which was, that foodstuffs in most unusual quantities are being imported by Denmark. The War Trade Department makes no attempt to dispute the large mass of other evidence which I collected from personal observation and inquiry on the spot regarding the great quantity of these extra supplies which is going through Danish ports into Germany. ‘
The Times’s editorial adopted a more measured tone, but it also thought the Government still had a case to answer. It acknowledged that the memorandum ‘points out a serious error … but it leaves the broad fact unchanged and unquestioned that, in spite of all precautions, goods in considerable amounts continue to reach the enemy through these neutral channels’.
It was, though, in a minority, as most of the next day’s press considered the memorandum to have been a masterstroke.
‘While the Daily Mail and the Morning Post stick to their ground and declare that the Government’s statement deals mostly with side issues, other newspapers assert that the Government’s reply is absolutely convincing and unanswerable,’ the New York Times reported,50 while the Sydney Morning Herald described the memorandum as ‘a very effective answer to figures and criticisms’ and the Livingstone Mail in Northern Rhodesia thought ‘the official reply reduces very materially the value of the attack made upon the Government’.
In London, the Evening Standard reported that the memorandum contained strong evidence that ‘our strangle hold on German trade has been increased in firmness every week’, while the Westminster Gazette suggested that the use of statistics by both the Daily Mail and the Morning Post ‘are now proved to contain nearly every kind of error which haste or irresponsibility could devise – errors of carelessness, errors of arithmetic’. An editorial in that day’s Daily News argued that the memorandum exonerated the Government and called Clarke’s professionalism into question:
‘There has rarely been a more crushing exposure than that issued by the War Department of the latest Northcliffe scandal … Nearly every fact on which the case is built up is found to be either an ignorant misapprehension or a garbled half-statement … It is found in nearly every case that the allegation of the scaremongers is a gross and fatuous alarm.’
If the decision to release the memorandum the day before the Parliamentary debate was intended to take the sting out of the story, then it succeeded.
The Times may have still believed that ‘today’s debate is anxiously awaited throughout the civilized world’, but much of that day’s press coverage gave the impression the Government had won the argument even before Edward Grey stood up in Parliament that evening to defend the blockade.
After several MPs had had their say, Grey got to his feet just after 6pm to give his statement to a packed House of Commons. Watched by Ministers from Denmark and Sweden in the public gallery, Grey began his response:
‘I must deal with some of the figures scattered broadcast lately in some organs of the press, which have created a grotesque and quite untrue impression of the amount of leakage through neutral countries – figures which will not bear examination, but the conclusions founded upon which have undoubtedly done great harm.’
Grey went through the figures released in the memorandum and argued they showed the Government was already doing all that could reasonably be expected, given its obligation to respect the rights of neutrals. He also called for an end to newspaper attacks on the blockade because of the dispiriting effect they were having on the Navy.
His statement was well-received by his fellow MPs, with the New York Times reporting that it left ‘the position exactly as before the debate, except that Parliament seemed more converted to the Government policy’.
The Daily Mail’s response the following morning was still critical, though perhaps less truculent than might have been expected. But any doubts the editorial’s relatively measured tone may have raised about its stomach for continuing its fight with the Government were dispelled by the response by Clarke that was published alongside it. Dripping with vitriol, he made no attempt to hide his anger as he railed against what he viewed as the underhand tactics of the Government:
‘Such is their guilt and knowledge of it that a last-minute reply had certain attractions for them. They take a fraction of the twenty or more columns of evidence that I adduced, showing how we are feeding Germany, and they point out in what direction that fraction of evidence may have been misleading to me and others. They deal, in short, solely with statistics I quoted from the Danish trade paper Borsen and assume (quite wrongly) that I omitted to take notice of certain considerations which might qualify these statistics.’
He went on to challenge the Government to prove its claim that large quantities of goods had been sent back to Britain or were being stored in Denmark until the end of the war, and he argued that the effort the Government had put into discrediting his articles would have been better used combating German propaganda in neutral countries than in ‘seeking minor journalistic victories at home’.
Given the scandal caused by his allegations, the idea that the Government should not have bothered to investigate them was so obviously weak that it suggests Clarke was beginning to feel the effect of day after day of biting criticism.
He was on firmer ground with his claim that by focusing exclusively on the figures from the Borsen, the Government had ignored everything else in his articles. It was, perhaps, an early example of the now established public relations tactic of identifying a single flaw in an opponent’s argument and focusing on it disproportionately in the hope of undermining their overall credibility.
Clarke finished his article with an accusation: ‘The British Government … know of it [the leaks in the blockade]; or are deliberately shutting their eyes and discrediting the evidence of their own agents. If they would say, “Our blockade is not perfect; we are sorry; it cannot be made more perfect without incurring disadvantages greater than the advantages we should reap through perfecting it” – if they would say this one would at least sympathise with their point of view even if one did not share it.
‘But in solemn, full, round phrases they insist for the benefit of a trusting people (and of the Allied nations who fight with us) that our blockade is real and sound and true; and they take laborious means to discredit all those who on the evidence of their own eyes and common sense would show that it is not. This may be politics, but it is not cricket. Nor is it war.’
As bombastic as his article was, there was something in its tone that hinted that, having staked his reputation on his fight with the Government, he realised the initiative was slipping away. Certainly, most of the next day’s newspapers were fulsome in their praise of Grey’s statement.
The New York Times reported that ‘Sir Edward Grey’s effective speech appeared to finish the work thus begun’ by the memorandum the previous day, while the Manchester Guardian judged that ‘the statistical case against the Government’s blockade policy has been almost completely demolished’ and the Daily Mirror, which had itself previously questioned the effectiveness of the blockade, reported that Grey’s statement had fully addressed ‘some grotesque figures which had been published and which were quite untrue, but the conclusions founded upon which had done great harm’.
Of all the coverage of Grey’s speech, perhaps the most extreme in its criticism of Clarke’s argument was the Daily News. ‘Dragged into the light it is found to be an impudent invention, based on grotesque figures and falsified deductions,’ it concluded. ‘Its aim has been, not to enlighten the public, but to bewilder it.’
The combination of the memorandum and Grey’s speech seemed to have won the Government a decisive victory but, as battered as their reputations may have been, neither Clarke nor the Daily Mail were about to give up. Clarke followed his response to Grey’s speech with a defiant article the following day headlined ‘Leaks in the blockade’ and the next day he wrote yet another piece, this time with the headline ‘Leaky blockade’. Yet despite Clarke’s determination not to be beaten and the Daily Mail’s willingness to let him continue criticising the Government, his articles were beginning to give the impression that the story was running out of steam.
In another article on 31 January, Clarke turned his attention to the newspapers that had been so critical of him, describing them as the ‘Hide-The-Truth press’ for having defended the Government. German traders, he wrote, ‘must be delighted to find the impression spreads … that the Foreign Office has proved that no food or supplies, or only negligible quantities, are going to Germany’.
The next day, another article by Clarke rebutted the claim that the extra tea arriving in Denmark was being sent on to Russia rather than Germany, and then three days later he wrote about a Danish trader who had advertised 200,000 pairs of military horseshoes in a German newspaper. The following day he claimed iron ore was getting through the blockade.
And then there was silence. The article about iron ore was the last one Clarke wrote about the blockade.
It is unclear why his articles stopped so suddenly. But just over a week later, the Daily Mail published an article by the reporter Robert Segar about problems with the blockade in the Netherlands. Under the headline ‘The blockade failure; how we are still feeding the Germans’, Segar continued in the same vein as Clarke as he claimed the Netherlands was ‘being used by the Germans as a vast storehouse’.
The next day, on 15 February, the Daily Mail published another article by Segar that described how the blockade was ‘leaking at every seam’ and over the course of nine days, between 14 February and 22 February, the Daily Mail published six articles criticising it. Neither Clarke nor his investigation were mentioned once.
Then on 23 February, the Government announced the establishment of a Ministry of Blockade. The Daily Mail may have been calling for responsibility for the blockade to be given to the Admiralty, but it could justifiably count the announcement of the new ministry as a victory. Over the previous month it had printed thousands of words criticising the blockade, and now the Government was changing the way it was managed.
That is not to say newspaper coverage was the only reason the Ministry of Blockade was established. But it does seem likely that newspaper coverage and the resulting public anger was one of the main reasons for the change.
Looking back at his career towards the end of his life, Clarke himself would certainly believe his campaign had an impact. Referring to his original piece in the Daily Mail, he wrote: ‘That article of mine did some good.’
While browsing through The Times’s archive today, I came across an interesting article from 1947 that sets out the newspaper’s view of public relations.
Thirty years on from when Basil Clarke started public relations in Britain by joining the Civil Service, The Times makes it clear that the industry had already grown massively.
It suggested the Treasury was now spending £878,468 a year on the wages of 1,100 public relations staff (including clerical and typing staff), a massive increase on the £21,000 a year the Government was spending on public relations in 1921.
The Times was sceptical as to the value of the industry, quoting approvingly from a White Paper on publicity for local government that suggested that “the public relations ‘spirit’ ought to permizeate the whole organization.”
“This means, in even plainer language,” The Times told its readers, “that men and women must know their job, be courteous in their business dealings, be ready to give the information to which citizens are entitled, and not hope to be saved from these obligations by a deus ex machina called a PRO.
“It is admirable doctrine and should be digested by those local authorities, for instance, whose most active interest in public relations expresses itself negatively, in attempts to prevent local newspapers from doing their duty, which is to give the facts about local government.
“Public relations are always part of efficient administration and they may need special provision and even a special officer, but, unless all his colleagues share his spirit, he is as useless as a fifth leg to a dog.”
It is an interesting simile. I’ve heard public relations being referred to as the tail of the dog before, but never as an additional leg!
When it comes to most firsts in public relations – the first practitioner; the first agency – it is usually the United States that gets the glory.
But, given that September is Ethics Month for public relations, I thought it would be worth telling the story of how the UK can lay a claim to the industry’s first ethical code.
It was not that the American public relations pioneers had never considered ethics. Ivy Lee included an ethical element in his ‘Declaration of Principles for Public Relations’ in 1906. Also, Edward Bernays’s 1928 book Propaganda included a code of ethics.
But Lee only included ethics as a small part of a wider document, while Bernays’s code of ethics was as much a description of how public relations practitioners already behaved as it was an attempt to codify standards of behaviour that could be used to hold people to account.
So when Basil Clarke, the father of the British public relations industry, developed a code of ethics in the 1920s that set tough and credible standards that those working in public relations were expected to conform to, it was the first of its kind anywhere in the world.
The Code called for an end to anonymity in public relations. All public relations copy was to be marked with the sender’s name and clearly labelled as publicity copy, while the press agent would be obliged to disclose the name of his client if asked to do so by an editor.
As well as highlighting the importance of transparency, Clarke’s code set out that press agents should not accept fees from newspapers or ‘suborn’ newspaper staff to publish stories, while they should also be responsible for satisfying themselves of their clients’ bona fides.
It also judged canvassing for business to be inappropriate because it could lead to press agents over-promising about the levels of coverage they were likely to achieve. And work should be paid for by professional fee, rather than by the number of articles secured.
Its other provisions included that stunts should not be used if they were intended to deceive either an editor or the public; that press releases should include footnotes giving the source for any claims; and that, except in ‘special circumstances’, editorial publicity was to be offered alongside advertising rather than instead of it.
The code also stipulated that press agents should not offer to place advertising with a newspaper on condition that it agreed to give editorial coverage, as this was ‘degrading alike to the maker of the threats and to the paper’.
Clarke hoped his code would force deceitful press agents to either change their ways or go out of business, and that this would enhance the professional reputations of those who remained. He also called for an industry-wide approach where a new ‘Vigilance Committee’ would monitor adherence to these rules and punish those who broke them, which he thought ‘would rid editorial publicity work of many abuses and leave unimpaired the useful functions’.
But as forward-thinking as Clarke may have been in identifying the need for this kind of code, it did not make any immediate discernible difference. A decade later, Clarke himself was lamenting that ‘there is still no knowing who is, or may be, a press agent, or what he may do … [and] nor is there any limit, except those imposed by his natural decency, to which a press agent may descend to get his publicity or propaganda across’.
And when the journalist Richard West looked back at Clarke’s code in 1963 as part of a book about the public relations industry, he concluded that while it was ‘admirable as far as it goes’, the vast majority of 1960s public relations firms were consistently breaking at least some of Clarke’s rules.
One rule West claimed was being routinely ignored was the one about ‘suborning’ journalists, which he thought included asking journalists to see a copy of their article before publication and so making ‘the journalist reluctant to be critical in his writing’.
West also gave the example of public relations practitioners posing as ordinary members of the public when writing to the letters page of newspapers as evidence of a failure to be transparent. But to be fair, Clarke did this himself in the 1920s, writing to The Times to enthuse about the telephone industry without mentioning that it was one of his clients.
One element of Clarke’s code still being debated today is the issue of payment by results.
As for Clarke, he apparently only ever broke his rule on payment by results once, when a client insisted he would only pay for the newspaper coverage his agency actually secured.
Clarke reluctantly agreed a rate and at the end of the campaign the client was shocked to find that the bill was five times higher than the fee Clarke had originally proposed. Content to have taught the client a lesson, he let him off the difference in exchange for the price of a lunch.
I was most taken with Traverse-Healey’s view that while securing media coverage, communicating and persuading are a big part of what we do, they don’t, on their own, add up to public relations.
Traverse-Healy thinks that for something to be considered public relations, it also has to have three extra ingredients:
Paramount concern for the public good
I agree with him and think these are things that all of us working in public relations today would do well to remember.
Telling the truth is, I think, a given. And genuine dialogue is something that might not happen all the time, but with the advent of social media it is certainly the way things are going.
But concern for the public good?
This was fundamental to the approach of British public relations pioneers like Basil Clarke and Stephen Tallents. They, like Traverse-Healy, saw themselves as part of a movement that is trying to make society better.
I wonder how many of today’s public relations practioners think of themselves in this way.
That’s why it’s important that we champion this focus on public good and celebrate our industry’s proud history. Above, all, we need to keep making the case that we are more than just a gun for hire. As Traverse-Healy does in his document, “the argument we are like lawyers available to either defend or prosecute is untenable”.
Before Christmas, I had managed to interest the Daily Mail is doing a feature on my biography of Basil Clarke, the Daily Mail First World War reporter who went on to become the father of the UK public relations industry.
But it didn’t appear over Christmas and, because the article led with Clarke’s experience of Christmas 1914, I thought that the chance had passed with the end of the festive season.
Most importantly, though, it is nice to see Clarke’s work celebrated in his old newspaper. Today is, I believe, the first time he had been mentioned in it since it published a short obituary in 1947 – that’s 66 years ago – and I think he would have been really proud of it.
Buoyed by the article, I took a copy of the Daily Mail into Waterstones in Bloomsbury at lunchtime to see if there might be any chance of doing something there to promote it.
As well as having a good chat with a member of the staff there, I was pleasantly surprised to see that not only do they stock the book, but that it faces out so you can see the front cover.
It was the first time I’d seen it on an actual shelf in a book shop. And even better to be in one of my favourite bookshops.
It’s now six months since my biography of Basil Clarke, From the Frontline, was published.
During that time, there have been quite a few articles and blog posts about both him and the book, particularly focusing on his role as a First World War reporter for the Daily Mail and as the father of the UK public relations industry.
I thought it might be useful, at the end of the year, to collect the links to some of them in one place. So here they are.
Remembering Liverpool’s beauties and beasts: The Liverpool Echo did this feature on two articles Clarke wrote about Liverpool, one about him becoming embroiled in rioting in 1911 and the other his claim that women from Liverpool had a “high average of beauty… not equalled even in London itself”.
As someone who worked for both the Manchester Guardian and the Daily Mail during the early part of the 20th Century, Basil Clarke worked for two of the truly great figures of British journalism in C.P. Scott and Lord Northcliffe.
Clarke set out his thoughts about both men in an autobiography he wrote but never published.
I included some of Clarke memories of them in my biography of Clarke, but given their importance to newspaper history I thought it would be worth blogging the bits about Scott and Northcliffe that didn’t make the final cut.
The picture of C.P. Scott, the owner and editor of the Manchester Guardian, that emerges from Clarke’s autobiography is of an intimidating man with exactingly high standards.
“He was a formidable and rather terrifying personality,” Clarke wrote. “He had not the habit that most people have of smiling a little at times as they talk to you. His face remained set, and from under his grey bushy eyebrows his keen blue eyes watched you searchingly with that suggestion of fierceness which blue eyes sometimes do convey.”
When he was still a sub-editor at the Manchester Guardian, Clarke passed some copy that described a recently purchased mechanical street sweeper as being economical and effective.
“Dear Mr Clarke,” Scott wrote to him the next day, “I think you mean ‘effectual’ rather than ‘effective’. A lady’s ball dress, you know, may be ‘effective’ without being ‘effectual’.”
“There wasn’t much that escaped C.P.’s eye,” Clarke wrote.
On another occasion, Scott wrote to Clarke to admonish him for having passed some Press Association copy about the death of William H Rattery that referred to Rattery as “the deceased politician”.
“He must have waded through all the 80 or 90 columns of that night’s copy to discover who had passed that offending phrase,” Clarke wrote.
As forbidding a figure as Scott might have been, he could, though, still be a source of humour. Clarke’s autobiography included the following, admittedly “perhaps apocryphal”, anecdote:
He [Scott] was cycling home to Fallowfield as usual in the early hours of the morning when his bicycle lamp went out and, having no matches (being a non-smoker), he asked a street sweeper for a light. This the street sweeper himself applied to the extinguished lamp as the following dialogue took place:
Street Sweeper: I often see you riding home about this time, Mister.
C.P. Yes, I usually get away from work about now.
S.S. Where do you work?
C.P. At the ‘Guardian’ office.
S.S That’s the Scotts’ paper, isn’t it?
C.P. Yes, it is.
S.S. Well, will you tell ’em summat from me, Mister?
C.P. What can I tell them from you?
S.S. You can tell ’em that I think it’s a bloody shame to keep an old feller like you out till this time of a night!
Clarke had a much closer relationship with Lord Northcliffe, the newspaper baron who founded the Daily Mail and the Daily Mirror and owned The Times and The Observer.
As I relate in my book, Northcliffe liked Clarke’s combative nature and was impressed with the quality of his work. And for Clarke’s part, a signed photograph of Northcliffe was one of his more precious possessions.
But Northcliffe was a much more controversial figure than Scott, and this was a subject Clarke touched on in his autobiography. Writing over a decade after Northcliffe’s death, Clarke wrote:
One heard, and still hears, conflicting estimates of him, the less kind of them attributing to him a sort of ruthlessness closely akin to that grim, brutal quality which the Prussians so highly venerate and esteem under its stark, back-to-front German name of “Rücksichtslosigkeit”, or, crudely translated, back-sight-less-ness.
For my own part I liked him. He was always good to me, unusually appreciative for a boss, very human, and extremely generous; and, if it be my lot to have any more bosses in this life I hope I may not ask for better or fairer than that. What if he did like to dramatise things a bit at times? That’s harmless enough. In the following sort of thing, for example, is there ground for anything beyond a tolerant smile?
Northcliffe: (Calling me back sharply after I had passed him in the office corridor): Who am I?
Clarke: Why, ‘the Chief’, of course.
Northcliffe: What’s my name?
Clarke: Lord Northcliffe.
Northcliffe: What am I on this paper?
Clarke: You are the owner and Editor-in-Chief, of course.
Northcliffe: Oh! So you do know who I am, do you? Then why did you just cut me just now?
Clarke: I’m sorry, Chief, you looked so preoccupied and worried as you walked along that I didn’t like to butt-in on your thoughts.
Northcliffe: Well, remember this, young man: any time you meet me in the corridor I expect a small smile. Don’t forget it.
When journalists are learning to write, there is no shortage of advice for them to draw on.
From Orwell to Hemingway, and plenty in-between, there are lots of writers and journalists who have given their thoughts on the craft of writing.
Well, I’ve found another one!
While researching my biography of Basil Clarke, I discovered that at the start of his career he was given advice on news writing by his friend Herbert Sidebotham, then a journalist at the Manchester Guardian and later better known for his “Scrutator” column in the Sunday Times.
It is advice that has, as far as I know, been forgotten for the best part of a century. And while the world is hardly crying out for new bits of writing advice, I think it has stood the test of time and could be a useful tool when reviewing your own work.
Sidebotham told Clarke that, after writing an article, he should always ask himself three questions:
Is that exactly what I meant to say, neither more nor less?
Could any person – wise man, knave or fool – construe it to mean anything different from what I meant to say, either more or less?
Could I have made it more easy for the reader to understand what I meant him to understand?
Incidentally, Clarke continued to use this checklist after he made the switch from journalism to public relations in 1917. But, perhaps reflecting the different focus of public relations compared to journalism, he added a fourth question of his own:
Could I have written it so as to make a deeper impression on his [the reader’s] mind?