Hate, as an old friend once reminded me, is a very strong word. And like the excessive use of the words tragedy and disaster, it’s often used when it shouldn’t be. But, for all that, there are still people, who I have never even met, who I truly hate. Margaret Thatcher was one and I must confess I raised a glass of Champagne when she popped her clogs. If I outlive them, I shall do the same when Kelvin MacKenzie and Rupert Murdoch are no more.
I say this on the anniversary of Hillsborough which was both a tragedy and a disaster. On 15th April 1989, 97 football fans went to a game and never went home. And each year, we remember the 97 and think too of their families who after 34 years have seen no one prosecuted. Their pain will go on forever. I only wish the same would happen to MacKenzie and Murdoch.
First, let’s begin with Kelvin MacKenzie. In 1981, he was appointed editor of The Sun. He described the sort of person to whom he was reaching out: “You just don’t understand the readers, do you, eh? He’s the bloke you see in the pub, a right old fascist wants to send the wogs back, buy his poxy council house, he’s afraid of the unions, afraid of the Russians, hates the queers and the weirdos and drug dealers. He doesn’t want to hear about that stuff (serious news).” Remember; that’s not me describing Sun readers. That was the actual editor describing his readers. He didn’t think much of them, did he?
His editorship proceeded along that way, always plumbing the depths of immorality, dragging the paper from the gutter into the sewer. In 1989, he reached his nadir with this infamous front page lead after Hillsborough:
The only positive I can think of is that MacKenzie was dissuaded from using an alternative headline, titled “You scum”. But the damage was done. Liverpool fans, both those who died and those who survived, were slandered. The Sun had committed the most grievous crime against truth and against journalism. by telling and repeating downright lies. It took them decades to issue a belated and hollow apology. Instead of sacking MacKenzie, Murdoch allowed him to carry on editing the paper for another five years.
In the years that followed, MacKenzie doubled down on his lies before finally apologising in 2012. Murdoch continued to employ him to write a hate-laden column. MacKenzie is the lowest form of life, with Rupert Murdoch, whose poison has infected the British psyche since the 1960s, standing alongside him.
Both are old men now. MacKenzie is 76 and Murdoch 92. I am not a religious man and this is one rare occasion where I wish I was. I am sad there isn’t a hell for them to go to. Having said that, The Devil himself would likely take a rain check before letting them into hell.
Their pernicious effect on public discourse should never be forgotten. They trade in hate and division and their legacy will only be measured in terms of the mess they will leave behind.
My thoughts will always be with the 97 and their families. Those who lied about and slandered them will be remembered as the vermin they are. I certainly won’t either of them to rest in peace.
