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Sir Hugh Jafee, QC, lights your ire:
Secret Service Surveillance
by SIR HUGH JAFEE, QC
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
There has been a lot mentioned in the past week or so about bugging of MPs.
No, I’m not referring to the nighttime practices on Hampstead Heath of certain
members of the lower House, or the incessant rants they receive from their less
literate constituents, but rather the monitoring in covert fashion of the private
conversations and discourses of our elected representatives.
A number of my friends, who naturally look to me as the guardian of liberty in this
fair land, have asked me what this all means for a Britain that is a land of freedoms
first and foremost.
“All what?” I was forced to ask, as I pay very little attention to the newspaper
except for cricket scores, obituaries and the sudoku. [Fiendish little buggers. The
puzzles, I mean; not the Japanese.] Once appraised of the situation, I knew it to be
thus: a Mr Khan, MP for somewhere or other, has apparently discovered that his
conversations with another man, who is not a member of the House, were
monitored by members of her Majesty’s security services.
This is apparently in breach of something called the Wilson convention, after
Sergeant Wilson, when it was decided during World War 2 that the bugging of
telephones of members of the Home Guard was inappropriate for those holding the
rank of sergeant or higher. Something to do with trust in the position. Later, when
Harold Wilson (who was a big fan of Dad’s Army) became Prime Minister, he was
much taken with the suggestion that some people could just be trusted and so
shouldn’t be bugged, by anyone, about anything, and so he extended it to cover
MPs as well. In truth, he didn’t have to extend it far, as most people sitting in the
House were all still members of their local Home Guard, as it allowed them to
double-claim their expenses. (This practice was ended by the Conway convention,
which stated that MPs needing to maximise the return on their expenses should
employ family members on full-time salaries as researchers.)
And that pretty much answers the first question, doesn’t it? What does this mean
exactly for the civil liberty of this land built on freedoms, for us all who cherish the
lassitude we have? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nil, nada, niente, niks, zip, bupkiss
(as my American associates inform me is their chosen vernacular). Because this
convention (which wasn’t a law, or even much more than a suggestion; it is what is
known, in English constitutional affairs, as a convention) wasn’t applicable to most
of us anyway.
Unless you had been elected to serve in the mother of Parliaments, or still had a
third-class return ticket stub for Walmington-on-Sea from 1942, you were afforded
no such freedom anyway. So you haven’t lost anything. And that means everything
is alright, because you can’t miss what you have never lost, can you? For example,
how many of you have missed the van Goghs, Cezannes, Degas and Monets worth
£84million that were stolen from a private collection in Zurich last week? How many
of you miss any works of art when they go missing? My point exactly. None of you.
Because, apart from a poster of melting clocks on your wall in Halls, you never
owned any, did you? Didn’t think so.
So, if it matters not for you, and it certainly doesn’t apply to me (I have a private
surveillance arrangement with Mossad, and have opted out of UK state
surveillance), what then does it matter whether our MPs are being bugged?
It obviously does matter to some, because even the security service concerned was
moved to point out that it was not Mr Khan, MP, who was being bugged, but the
person whom he had chosen to visit in jail. Why is he in jail, you ask? Ah, well, there’
s the thing. He has been held, for some time, it must be admitted, without ever
having been brought to trial. As I understand it (and my understanding is, let’s face
it, what’s important) he is being held on suspicion of having links to someone who
might have done or said something that was a bit like something a terrorist might
have said.
This is in clear breach of Section 1, ss. 1 (a) of the Act Like A Terrorist And We’ll Get
You Act 2006 (Amended), which states, “Any person acting in the manner of a
terrorist, or talking to someone who acts in that matter, or talking about acting in
that manner to anyone, or having links to someone who might be acting or talking
like a terrorist, even if they are not actually a terrorist or planning any terrorist
activity, shall be deemed to be a terrorist and shall be punished according to the
Tariff listed in Section 3(1).”
So that’s pretty clear, and straightforward. I don’t want to go into the tariffs for
punishment here, as I have already made my feelings clear on the increased levels
of detention for terror suspects, and, as those feelings are logical, reasoned and
right, I see now no need to defend or even explain them. Yet when I explain the
facts of this particular case to people, for some baffling reason, they remain
unsatisfied. “But they shouldn’t be bugging people,” they cry: “it’s underhand!” –
forgetting that having links as yet unproven to people who act like a terrorist is also
a pretty underhand way of behaving.
It transpires that Mr Khan, MP is a lawyer. Obviously, he’s not a very good one,
otherwise he would never have become a Member of Parliament. Even with the
Conway regional family adjustment, he couldn’t hope to make what I do for waffling
on a topic with which I have only the most rudimentary acquaintance. Some people
seem to think that, being a lawyer, he has a right to see his friend in prison without
being listened to. They also opine that his status as a sitting member of the House
means he is covered by the Wilson convention (which replaced the Wilson Pickett
convention, exhorting MPs to wait until the midnight hour before safely divulging
secrets) and thus the transgression is doubly serious.
At this I chortle, usually because I haven’t been listening to them and am instead
remembering an amusing little incident on the 12th tee, but also because they fail
to hear how silly they are when making so-called arguments. The conversation
between a lawyer and his client should be secret, they say (because they don’t
know words like ‘protected’ or ‘privileged’): in principle, I agree. Particularly when
the client is innocent. But we are dealing here not with a client but a suspected
terrorist. Who is he going to tell about his terrorist plans? That’s right, his lawyer,
and so that is precisely whom we should be bugging, MP or not. Furthermore, as I
have shown in earlier pieces, we are facing an unparalleled threat from Islamic
fundamentalist terrorism. The incarcerated gentleman in question is a Muslim. As is
Mr Khan. Clearly, that is yet another reason why not bugging Mr Khan would be
tantamount to criminal negligence. And lastly, before becoming MP, what was Mr
Khan’s role? Lawyer for the Muslim Council of Britain, an organisation consisting
almost entirely of Muslims, and with known links to Islam, mosques, and other
Muslims. Starting to get the picture? It’s as clear as the terrorist agenda written in
Mr Khan’s notes following his conversation in the prison, probably.
Let’s look at the reasons for the Wilson convention again: it was designed because,
by virtue of their election, MPs were held to be in a position of trust, and that trust
was inviolate. And that seems like a sound principle, even if it might not apply in the
case of Mr Khan. Or Mr Conway. Or Ms Harman. Or Mr Hain. Or Mr Hamilton. Or Mr
Vaz. Or Lord Levy. Or Lord Archer. Or Lord Parkinson. But it does apply in a lot of
other cases, and for those MPs who are not linked to suspects of some type of
misdemeanour or ‘mistake’, perhaps we should preserve this noble tradition of the
Wilson convention (as opposed to the Willis convention, which as I am sure you
remember, allows MPs to ask members of the Government about what precisely
they are talking). On condition, of course, that they can prove themselves worthy of
not being doubted, by recording all their conversations so that we can listen if we
want.
That’s the deal I have with Mossad, and it works for me.
© lizardmagazine.com, 2008
Back to the homepage
Secret Service Surveillance
by SIR HUGH JAFEE, QC
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
There has been a lot mentioned in the past week or so about bugging of MPs.
No, I’m not referring to the nighttime practices on Hampstead Heath of certain
members of the lower House, or the incessant rants they receive from their less
literate constituents, but rather the monitoring in covert fashion of the private
conversations and discourses of our elected representatives.
A number of my friends, who naturally look to me as the guardian of liberty in this
fair land, have asked me what this all means for a Britain that is a land of freedoms
first and foremost.
“All what?” I was forced to ask, as I pay very little attention to the newspaper
except for cricket scores, obituaries and the sudoku. [Fiendish little buggers. The
puzzles, I mean; not the Japanese.] Once appraised of the situation, I knew it to be
thus: a Mr Khan, MP for somewhere or other, has apparently discovered that his
conversations with another man, who is not a member of the House, were
monitored by members of her Majesty’s security services.
This is apparently in breach of something called the Wilson convention, after
Sergeant Wilson, when it was decided during World War 2 that the bugging of
telephones of members of the Home Guard was inappropriate for those holding the
rank of sergeant or higher. Something to do with trust in the position. Later, when
Harold Wilson (who was a big fan of Dad’s Army) became Prime Minister, he was
much taken with the suggestion that some people could just be trusted and so
shouldn’t be bugged, by anyone, about anything, and so he extended it to cover
MPs as well. In truth, he didn’t have to extend it far, as most people sitting in the
House were all still members of their local Home Guard, as it allowed them to
double-claim their expenses. (This practice was ended by the Conway convention,
which stated that MPs needing to maximise the return on their expenses should
employ family members on full-time salaries as researchers.)
And that pretty much answers the first question, doesn’t it? What does this mean
exactly for the civil liberty of this land built on freedoms, for us all who cherish the
lassitude we have? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nil, nada, niente, niks, zip, bupkiss
(as my American associates inform me is their chosen vernacular). Because this
convention (which wasn’t a law, or even much more than a suggestion; it is what is
known, in English constitutional affairs, as a convention) wasn’t applicable to most
of us anyway.
Unless you had been elected to serve in the mother of Parliaments, or still had a
third-class return ticket stub for Walmington-on-Sea from 1942, you were afforded
no such freedom anyway. So you haven’t lost anything. And that means everything
is alright, because you can’t miss what you have never lost, can you? For example,
how many of you have missed the van Goghs, Cezannes, Degas and Monets worth
£84million that were stolen from a private collection in Zurich last week? How many
of you miss any works of art when they go missing? My point exactly. None of you.
Because, apart from a poster of melting clocks on your wall in Halls, you never
owned any, did you? Didn’t think so.
So, if it matters not for you, and it certainly doesn’t apply to me (I have a private
surveillance arrangement with Mossad, and have opted out of UK state
surveillance), what then does it matter whether our MPs are being bugged?
It obviously does matter to some, because even the security service concerned was
moved to point out that it was not Mr Khan, MP, who was being bugged, but the
person whom he had chosen to visit in jail. Why is he in jail, you ask? Ah, well, there’
s the thing. He has been held, for some time, it must be admitted, without ever
having been brought to trial. As I understand it (and my understanding is, let’s face
it, what’s important) he is being held on suspicion of having links to someone who
might have done or said something that was a bit like something a terrorist might
have said.
This is in clear breach of Section 1, ss. 1 (a) of the Act Like A Terrorist And We’ll Get
You Act 2006 (Amended), which states, “Any person acting in the manner of a
terrorist, or talking to someone who acts in that matter, or talking about acting in
that manner to anyone, or having links to someone who might be acting or talking
like a terrorist, even if they are not actually a terrorist or planning any terrorist
activity, shall be deemed to be a terrorist and shall be punished according to the
Tariff listed in Section 3(1).”
So that’s pretty clear, and straightforward. I don’t want to go into the tariffs for
punishment here, as I have already made my feelings clear on the increased levels
of detention for terror suspects, and, as those feelings are logical, reasoned and
right, I see now no need to defend or even explain them. Yet when I explain the
facts of this particular case to people, for some baffling reason, they remain
unsatisfied. “But they shouldn’t be bugging people,” they cry: “it’s underhand!” –
forgetting that having links as yet unproven to people who act like a terrorist is also
a pretty underhand way of behaving.
It transpires that Mr Khan, MP is a lawyer. Obviously, he’s not a very good one,
otherwise he would never have become a Member of Parliament. Even with the
Conway regional family adjustment, he couldn’t hope to make what I do for waffling
on a topic with which I have only the most rudimentary acquaintance. Some people
seem to think that, being a lawyer, he has a right to see his friend in prison without
being listened to. They also opine that his status as a sitting member of the House
means he is covered by the Wilson convention (which replaced the Wilson Pickett
convention, exhorting MPs to wait until the midnight hour before safely divulging
secrets) and thus the transgression is doubly serious.
At this I chortle, usually because I haven’t been listening to them and am instead
remembering an amusing little incident on the 12th tee, but also because they fail
to hear how silly they are when making so-called arguments. The conversation
between a lawyer and his client should be secret, they say (because they don’t
know words like ‘protected’ or ‘privileged’): in principle, I agree. Particularly when
the client is innocent. But we are dealing here not with a client but a suspected
terrorist. Who is he going to tell about his terrorist plans? That’s right, his lawyer,
and so that is precisely whom we should be bugging, MP or not. Furthermore, as I
have shown in earlier pieces, we are facing an unparalleled threat from Islamic
fundamentalist terrorism. The incarcerated gentleman in question is a Muslim. As is
Mr Khan. Clearly, that is yet another reason why not bugging Mr Khan would be
tantamount to criminal negligence. And lastly, before becoming MP, what was Mr
Khan’s role? Lawyer for the Muslim Council of Britain, an organisation consisting
almost entirely of Muslims, and with known links to Islam, mosques, and other
Muslims. Starting to get the picture? It’s as clear as the terrorist agenda written in
Mr Khan’s notes following his conversation in the prison, probably.
Let’s look at the reasons for the Wilson convention again: it was designed because,
by virtue of their election, MPs were held to be in a position of trust, and that trust
was inviolate. And that seems like a sound principle, even if it might not apply in the
case of Mr Khan. Or Mr Conway. Or Ms Harman. Or Mr Hain. Or Mr Hamilton. Or Mr
Vaz. Or Lord Levy. Or Lord Archer. Or Lord Parkinson. But it does apply in a lot of
other cases, and for those MPs who are not linked to suspects of some type of
misdemeanour or ‘mistake’, perhaps we should preserve this noble tradition of the
Wilson convention (as opposed to the Willis convention, which as I am sure you
remember, allows MPs to ask members of the Government about what precisely
they are talking). On condition, of course, that they can prove themselves worthy of
not being doubted, by recording all their conversations so that we can listen if we
want.
That’s the deal I have with Mossad, and it works for me.
© lizardmagazine.com, 2008
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