Posts Tagged ‘Review’

January isn’t the cruellest month

Wednesday, January 5th, 2011

The sun is shining, the weekend is on the horizon – despite rumours to the contrary, January really isn’t so bad.

On Monday, Mark Pack of Lib Dem Voice reviewed his Christmas reading on the website, and it turned out it was a Biteback title.

Inside the Danger Zones: Travels to Arresting Places is the story of Paul Moorcraft’s work during the major wars of the last three decades. As a freelance war correspondent and military analyst for many of the top TV networks, our author – being the crazy fool that he is – has parachuted into countless war zones and worked at the heart of the British security establishment.

When a man has done all these things, most people would expect him to think highly of himself, but, as Pack highlights, this is far from the case:

“Moorcraft’s account reflects plenty of the swagger of many war correspondents but with enough self-mockery to make the account illuminating and interesting rather than a macho display. Even the clichés about drinking and womanising journalists, which he seems to have often fulfilled to the maximum, are full of his own failings.”

To add to the list of reasons why today’s just generally great, we’re going to say that Mark Pack has also made this early-morning blog entry incredibly easy to write. He praises the book for the way it “brings back into the public light many of the forgotten by-ways of history” and seems to appreciate that Moorcraft is “acknowledging how the hunt for bang-bang [exciting journalism] can distract from telling the real story”. Mark, has even given us a closing quote:

“…all through it is an entertaining and educative read”

You can read Mark Pack’s review here and you can buy Paul Moorcraft’s Inside the Danger Zones here for £9.99

Changing the Name of the Rose

Tuesday, November 30th, 2010

So we received this book from Paul Richards, edited it, created a beautiful cover, collected all these brilliant reviews, placed the glowing compliments all over our book and then let it loose to be devoured by an eager public. And now the lovely people at Tribune magazine have written a review for Labour’s Revival in their most recent issue.

It’s just a darn shame, because we so would have found space for them on the cover, especially when they call our book ‘impressive’. The review, entitled Liberty, Equality and Community – read the ancient texts to build a New Jerusalem, goes on to say…

‘Revisionism is sometimes feared on the left. Perhaps we worry that we will wake up one day and find ourselves in a different kind of political party. If we always keep our values before us that will never happen. But we do need to renew for the sake of the country. Labour’s Revival is a well-argued contribution to the debate we must now have.’

What this does show, apart from the fact that Paul Richards’s book is ‘well-argued’ and ‘impressive’ (just throwing those in there again, in case you missed them), is that this is a vital time for Labour and that the debate continues (even once the book is printed). With such a disastrous performance in May and a new leader tackling a divided nation, Labour have to consider long-term policy plans to change the party’s image and win back the electorate, rather than simply sit back and watch the progress of the coalition.

And who better than a figure who has been at the heart of the Labour Party for over twenty years and is a founder and columnist for Progress magazine to show the way (that’s Paul Richards, don’t you know)?

Order your copy of Labour’s Revival: The Modernisers’ Manifesto here for £12.99.

Review: Noel Skelton and the Property-Owning Democracy

Wednesday, September 1st, 2010

David Melding AM writes for WalesHome.org

The Original Red Tory

MANY OF you will think that YMCA exclusively stands for the Young Men’s Christian Association and perhaps recall the Village People’s slightly outrageous hit. Long before the song, in the 1920s in fact, the acronym was used derisively to describe youthful liberal leaning Conservative MPs. Many so labelled – Harold MacMillan, Robert Boothby, Duff Cooper – became well known names; but that of their mentor did not.

Phillip Blond, author of the influential book Red Tory, has called Noel Skelton the “original Red Tory and one of the most important MPs and thinkers of his era”. I confess that Noel Skelton was unknown to me but this important political life has been resurrected by David Torrance in his latest book Noel Skelton and the Property-Owning Democracy (Biteback, £25). Torrance is the gifted young author of a series of books that have shed striking light on the Scottish Tory tradition.

Noel Skelton was the Scottish Tory MP who coined the phrase ‘property owning democracy’ in the inter-war years. Skelton believed that the challenge of socialism had to be met by an ambitious programme of Constructive Conservatism (the title of his most influential work) that offered people extensive co-partnership in industry, land reform, and a more direct democracy via the use of referendums. Skelton urged the Conservative Party to take advantage of the new opportunities opening up in the 1920s, surely the most fluid decade in British politics. When his near contemporaries, Anthony Eden, Harold MacMillan, and Alec Douglas Home secured the premiership, they adopted Skelton’s influential phrase but focussed narrowly on its implications for home ownership. Skelton himself had a far wider vision which might be best summarised as Conservative co-operatism. (more…)

Praise for SIX from ARRSE

Friday, August 13th, 2010

Thanks to ARRSE (The Army Rumour Service) for the fantastic review of Michael Smith’s SIX: A History of Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service.

“This is a fine book. On one level, it is a rattling good yarn which does what it says on the cover; on another level, Smith’s research illuminates the sometimes complex (and to the indifferent, dull) bureaucratic manoeuvring which is a feature of any intelligence organisation and on a third level, it is a fascinating insight into the people who came together to create one of the world’s foremost intelligence services.”

To read the full review, click here.

SIX: A History of Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service. Part 1: Murder and Mayhem is available to buy from Biteback, priced £19.99

Jonathan Isaby writes from ConHome about the avid politico’s summer read

Thursday, August 12th, 2010

Some holiday reading for the avid politico.

Whilst some of you will want to take some trashy fiction to the beach as you get away for some sun this month, I don’t doubt that some ConHome readers will want to take the time to catch up on some political reading while they’re away.

And one book which fits into the latter category is Nicholas Jones’ Campaign 2010: The Making of the Prime Minister. (more…)

SIX terrific review in the Sunday Times

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

9781906447007
Dominic Sandbrook, reviewing Michael Smith’s Six: A history of Britain’s secret intelligence service called the book “engrossing”, and comments, “As a rollicking chronicle of demented derring-do, Smith’s book is hard to beat. His research is prodigious and his eye for a good story impeccable, and his book, while perfectly scholarly, often reads like a real-life James Bond thriller.”

To read the review on the Sunday Times website, click here. You will need to log in to access.

The Oxford Times discusses the history of MI6 with Mick Smith

Monday, August 2nd, 2010

Maggie Hartford of The Oxford Times writes:

Sword-stick assassinations; the slow torture of Rasputin, found with his testicles crushed; a sack tied to a door, containing the remains of a secret agent. Michael Smith’s latest book, Six: A History of Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service, doesn’t stint on violence. He said: “People have accused me of exaggerating, because the subtitle is Murder and Mayhem, but it’s all there in the facts.”

Mr Smith made his name in 2004 as defence correspondent of the Sunday Times, exposing the Downing Street memos, which rocked the Bush and Blair administrations with suggestions that the intelligence that sparked the war in Iraq was ‘fixed’.

He is uniquely placed to write about spying and spies, because he used to be one.

To continue reading, please click here.

SIX is available to buy here, priced £19.99.

Swallows, Amazons and the Kremlin

Monday, July 19th, 2010

9781906447007
Many thought the author Arthur Ransome was a Bolshevik. In truth he was a British spy who seduced Trotsky’s secretary

The Sunday Times, 18th July

There seemed little doubt that one of Britain’s national newspapers was harbouring a red agent. Not only that, but Arthur Ransome — later to be renowned as the author of Swallows and Amazons — was publishing one pro-Bolshevik piece after another with seeming impunity.

It was an outrage, in the eyes of several senior military intelligence officers, who lobbied Ransome’s bosses at The Daily News to have him sacked.

They were pounding on an open door. The editor and the newspaper’s owner, the chocolate magnate George Cadbury, were so incensed by the tone of Ransome’s reports that they had already tried to recall him.

Before he could pack up his office in Moscow, however, they had received an unexpected visit from Robert Bruce Lockhart, a senior British diplomat. Ransome, he informed them in a way that brooked no argument, was far too valuable to Britain where he was: he would have to stay.

Even today the novelist’s reputation remains clouded by the insinuation that he was a naive, overenthusiastic and potentially traitorous supporter of Joseph Stalin and Leon Trotsky, who had become key members of the new leadership under Vladimir Lenin after the 1917 October revolution. The truth, however, is that Ransome was a British spy.

After becoming his paper’s Moscow correspondent, he had sought out Trotsky, the Bolshevik foreign affairs commissar, for an interview. The request was duly granted, and the arrangements were made by Evgenia Shelepina, Trotsky’s attractive 23-year-old secretary.

Ransome, then separated from his wife, became romantically involved with her and soon found himself deeply in love. What Shelepina did not know, at least to start with, was that her new beau was actually agent S76, working for British intelligence. And although the love affair was genuine, it also provided him with a good excuse to spend a lot of time in Trotsky’s offices.

When she found out about her lover’s activities, Shelepina appears to have decided that love conquers all. Over the next six months she gave Ransome detailed information on the intentions of the Bolshevik leadership and its attitude towards Britain in particular, which he passed on to Ernest Boyce, the head of the British secret service in Russia.

By the middle of 1918 those spymasters were growing concerned about the risks Shelepina was running. Foreseeing trouble, Lockhart asked for her name to be put on Ransome’s passport as the author’s wife, since “her services to the allies have been considerable”.

Ransome, too, realised she needed to be removed from danger. So he persuaded a Bolshevik diplomat to give Shelepina a job in the Russian legation in Stockholm and then moved his own office to Sweden. It was an ingenious solution, which gave Shelepina and Ransome a good chance of escaping if the Russians realised what was going on, while granting them continued access to Bolshevik secrets.

Meanwhile, his bosses at The Daily News were smarting under the onslaught of yet another slew of Ransome’s pro-Bolshevik pieces. This time they agreed they had no choice but to bring him home. But yet again they received a visit — on this occasion from the actor and theatre impresario Harley Granville-Barker. Claiming to represent the War Office, he “implored” them to keep their correspondent in Sweden. Informed that the paper could no longer afford to pay the hotel accommodation of both Ransome and Shelepina, Granville-Barker — in fact a senior member of the secret service — told them the War Office itself would meet the couple’s bills.

Soon another problem arose: the quality of Ransome’s secret reports from Sweden was starting to flag. But S76 dug in his heels: he did not want to return to Moscow because of the danger that Shelepina might be exposed as a British agent.

It was time, his secret bosses decided, to sully Ransome’s public image back home even further. John Scale, the British secret service representative in Stockholm, persuaded the Swedish authorities to put the couple on a list of 13 “dangerous Bolsheviks” to be expelled from Sweden. Meanwhile, Lockhart arranged to give a well-publicised talk at King’s College London, where, in front of representatives of the right-wing press, he stridently denounced Ransome’s pro-Bolshevik reporting.

With his reputation as an “out-and-out Bolshevik” happily restored, Ransome agreed to return to Russia with Shelepina. The ruses had worked, and the journalist continued to burrow into the heart of the Bolshevik establishment, having regular meetings with Lenin himself.

“I even got a letter from Lenin authorising all the commissars to give me whatever information I might ask for,” Ransome said. “I was entirely uncontrolled.”

And he told Boyce: “There is no one else who can keep in such close touch with affairs there as I can. I am just as friendly with the leaders of the other parties inside Soviet Russia as with the Bolsheviks.”

By May 1920, though, Ransome was again becoming jittery about Shelepina’s safety. After so many years as a secret agent, he knew that the net could soon be closing in.

To his delight Shelepina persuaded the Bolsheviks to let her go to Britain — on the one condition that she had to smuggle in more than 1m roubles’ worth of precious gems to fund communist parties in Europe. No one knows exactly what happened to the gems, but they were almost certainly delivered — no doubt under the surveillance of the British secret service. Certainly, Shelepina’s later years were untroubled by Soviet hit squads.

There was, however, a more immediate problem: Ransome’s estranged wife, Ivy, refused to divorce him. Knowing that the British mores of the day would have made life intolerable for his mistress, Ransome decided they would have to live abroad. In the end they went to Estonia, where he continued to work as a journalist.

He remained in contact with his friends in the British secret service until at least 1922, providing them with further intelligence. One valuable piece of information he delivered was a list of the former tsarist officers serving in the Soviet forces who might make British agents.

In 1924, finally divorced and free to marry Shelepina, he brought her to Britain. Comfortably installed in the Lake District, where he wrote the series of children’s books that made his name, he gently discouraged all questions about his Bolshevik past until his death in 1967.

Six — A History of Britain’s Secret Intelligence Service, Part 1: Murder and Mayhem 1909-1939, by Michael Smith, is published by Dialogue at £19.99

Paul Flynn’s The Unusual Suspect reviewed on ePolitiX.com

Monday, April 26th, 2010

The Unusual Suspect by Paul Flynn
Reviewed by Tom Harris for ePolitiX.com

I probably disagree with Paul Flynn on more issues than I care to list. He and I do not occupy the same geographical position on the broad and colourful spectrum that is the modern Labour Party. He clearly does not share my admiration for Tony Blair or my enthusiasm for nuclear power.

He is, nevertheless, one of the best writers I know – not just ‘a good writer for an MP’, but a very good writer. Full stop. His love of wordcraft comes across powerfully, beautifully and movingly.

The Unusual Suspect, the Newport West MP’s memoirs, is the kind of book that could achieve the virtually impossible task of persuading the reader that politicians are more than speech-makers, legislators and soundbite-creators; that they are, in fact, rounded human beings with the same back story as those they represent.

Paul, as a highly regarded parliamentarian – now in his seventies and standing again for re-election in his Welsh seat – recalls his life’s main events with a beguiling clarity and honesty.

The dramatic and serendipitous events that formed the careers of better-known political figures are well documented: Tony Blair’s successful lobbying to be reinstated on the Sedgefield shortlist after his name had been removed, Gordon Brown becoming the youngest-ever rector of Edinburgh University, William Hague’s famous (infamous?) teenage appearance on the Tory conference rostrum.

Flynn reminds his readers that a less extraordinary hinterland need not be a barrier to a political career. His early failure in academic life, his financial struggles as he and his wife brought up a young family, his job in the Llanwern steelworks, his divorce and remarriage… There is much to which the ordinary reader from a non-political background can relate.

He also successfully communicates his life’s great loves: the Welsh language and his wife, Sam, the description of whose battle with breast cancer reveals the very human and vulnerable side to Flynn.

But it is his retelling of when he and his first wife discovered the dead body of their 16-year-old daughter Rachel in her bedroom, that best illustrates Flynn’s writing ability. Here it is calm, measured and factual, but with human despair and desolation intruding through every dot and comma.

Throughout most of The Unusual Suspect, however, Flynn’s charm and humour shine through. His description of the early days in the Commons of a group of newly elected Welsh MPs brought a smile of recognition to my lips, while his plentiful and detailed analyses of various Labour Party selection contests made me grimace – again, with recognition.

He is, as one might expect, ruthless in his denunciation of those with whom he has crossed swords over the years. His personal attacks on Labour parliamentary colleagues come across as just a bit too bitter, and almost spoil the generally generous tone of the rest of the book. He falls into the trap of extreme sanctimoniousness when he dismisses the motives of those who wish to serve as ministers rather than backbenchers:

“My guru Tony Wright helpfully defined MPs as the Whys and the Whens. The Whens are obsessed with when they will get a job, go on a trip, be recognised as leaders. The Whys seek out the truth and remedies for reform.”

Flynn himself, as he records, served on Labour’s front bench in the Welsh and social security briefs, so was, at least for a time, a ‘When’ himself. Given how accessible The Unusual Suspect is to the non-political reader, it’s a pity that Flynn has chosen to perpetuate the anti-politics media myth that only backbenchers can ever be true to their principles, and that seeking ministerial office is, of itself, a compromise too far.

Nevertheless, most of the book is an unashamed celebration of politics. Like his previous book, Commons Knowledge (which I bought at Labour conference shortly after being selected as a candidate, but before I was elected), it’s packed with fantastic anecdotes illustrating the often weird life of an MP, whether at constituency or parliamentary level.

The Unusual Suspect is one of the best – and best written – political memoirs I’ve read. Any personal frailties which Flynn, either wittingly or unwittingly, exposes simply confirm the view that the electorate are best served by individuals as flawed and as complicated as themselves.

The Unusual Suspect by Paul Flynn
Biteback £19.99 256pp

Seeking Gaddafi reviewed in The Sunday Times

Monday, February 15th, 2010

February 14, 2010

Seeking Gadaffi by Daniel Kawczynski

The Sunday Times review by Stephen Robinson

Libya’s leader Muammar Gaddafi attends a celebration of the 40th anniversary of his coming to power at the Green Square in Tripoli September 1, 2009 If you have the good fortune not to be a Libyan, it is tempting to laugh at all the camp, insane excesses of the man who grabbed power in a military coup in 1969, and has clung on ever since through barbarism and canniness. For there is something superficially arresting about what Daniel Kawczynski terms the “corrupt grandiosity” of Colonel Gadaffi’s rule. These include his absurd revolutionary outfits, platform heels (he is touchy about his height), risibly dyed hair, and overseas travels with glamorous female guards who dress in foxy paramilitary gear and thigh-high boots. But the absurd posturing conceals a much shrewder figure who switches his ideological rhetoric to suit changed international circumstances, who has used terrorist proxies to undermine rivals and raise his international standing, and who has deployed terror within Libya with a cynical effectiveness.

The only truthful aspect of the official Gadaffi story that is drummed into the minds of his subject population is that he was born into a family of Bedouin goatherds, members of a minor clan whose name translates as “spitters of blood”, which might explain what was to follow. He picked the traditional African route to political power, the army, having come under the influence of Nasser’s anti-colonial ideology as a young man. He was handsome in his youth, with a certain charisma.

At the age of only 27, he and a group of fellow army officers struck against the hapless and hopeless King Idris. The coup was relatively bloodless as the monarchy quickly disintegrated, but brutal purges and public hangings were soon to mock the western and Arab governments that recognised his power grab. As Kawczynski grudgingly concedes, Gadaffi’s capacity to cause mayhem by funding international terrorism means that Libya (a country of just 6m) punches above its weight. This brings him some prestige at home, and this kudos, along with Libya’s vast oil wealth, and the weakness of the civil and political institutions inherited from Idris, explains why his domestic enemies have failed to topple him.He funded and gave sanctuary to several factions within the broader Palestinian cause, often it seemed to spite his rivals rather than to advance Arab interests. He was an early backer of Abu Nidal and Carlos the Jackal — both kept luxury apartments in Libya in the 1970s and 1980s. Money and equipment were also directed towards ETA, the Italian Red Brigades, Action Directe, Baader-Meinhof, and, of course, the IRA. Gerry Adams was so impressed by his credentials that he set up a Revolutionary Council modelled on the Libyan version. When Gadaffi bores of a terrorist cause, though, he drops the group and, as in the case of the Lockerbie bombing, frequently pays compensation to its victims, tacitly — but not formally — conceding “general responsibility”.

Internal oppression through ¬violence has been his consistent hallmark. In 1996, prisoners at Abu Salim prison in Tripoli took guards hostage in protest at the disgusting conditions. The rebellion was put down relatively peacefully, and the prisoners were ordered to muster in the prison yard, reportedly by Gadaffi’s brother-in-law. For the next four hours, guards posted on the rooftop shot at them until some 1,200 were dead. After years of denial of the massacre, relatives have since received compensation.
Journalists, Islamic scholars and internal dissidents are routinely killed. One journalist, Daif al-Ghazal, was abducted in 2005, and when his body was recovered, most of his fingers had been cut off. When the publicity for that murder proved embarrassing, Gadaffi had three Revolutionary Guards held responsible executed.

The Gadaffi who emerges in this study is not really a ideological zealot; indeed he does not seem to believe in anything much beyond entrenching his power and rewarding his family. Immediately after taking control, he replaced Libya’s legal code with Sharia law, but later realising the threat from Islamic fundamentalism to his own power, replaced that with the incoherent political credo laid down in the Green Book. This created a new form of state, jamahiriya, supposedly based on direct consultation of the people, but in reality establishing a vast network of informers.

Gadaffi’s essential canniness is evident in how he has changed his tune since September 2001, fearing he would go the way of Saddam Hussein. Now he describes radical Islam as “more dangerous than Aids”; last year he wrote an article in the New York Times on the importance of being nice to Jews. He is on first-name terms with Tony and Cherie. For Gadaffi, international terrorism has served its purpose.

Kawczynski is a 6ft 8in tall Tory MP of recent Polish descent who views Britain’s emerging relationship with Libya with a detached bemusement. As chairman of the All-Party Parliamentary Group on Libya, he argues that it is perfectly reasonable that the British government should cut deals that allow firms such as BP to share the vast oil wealth that Gadaffi withholds from his subjects.

This is a lightly written and well-researched account of Gadaffi’s life, though dependent largely on secondary sources. Kawczynski failed in his efforts to meet his subject, an obvious flaw in a book called Seeking Gadaffi. But it offers an intelligent analysis of Britain’s relations with Tripoli, even if Kawczynski seems as conflicted as many of the Lockerbie families as to Gadaffi’s culpability in the Lockerbie attack, pointing out that Iran also had good reason to order the bombing.

But he is surely right to be enraged by successive governments’ refusal to order a proper public inquiry; and he finds it shameful that London has normalised relations with Libya without ensuring that the killer of policewoman Yvonne Fletcher is sent for trial here. He is disgusted, too, that the government has not pursued justice and compensation for the victims of the IRA bombs made with Semtex provided by Libya.

In the 1980s, western governments made the mistake of ¬demonising Gadaffi as “mad” and “evil”, which missed the point and only encouraged him. Kawczynski argues persuasively that Ronald Reagan’s bombing of Libya, though richly deserved, probably cemented his rule to this day. Now Gadaffi’s regime is sanctified by western governments who tolerate his domestic oppression in exchange for his rhetorical attacks on Al-Qaeda, a force that threatens him much more than the West.

When he dies, Libya will almost certainly lapse into chaos. His sons who might succeed him are, if anything, worse and more absurd than he is. There is the brutal playboy Hannibal, who triggered a huge diplomatic breach with Switzerland by beating up a member of his entourage there. Then there is the preposterous London-based Saif, the British university-educated “intellectual”, painter of kitsch watercolours and close friend of Lord Mandelson. It is bad enough that Libyans have to tolerate this dismal dynasty of vainglorious freaks; it is surely worse that we encourage them and call them our friends.