Magazine article The Spectator

Low Life

Magazine article The Spectator

Low Life

Article excerpt

Searching the web for information about the enigmatic Bilderberg group, I came across a website called Who Controls America? It's a simple site to navigate: you click on 'White House' or 'Wall Street' or 'Hollywood' and you get a list of the main players and a big colour photo of each from the neck up. (You know where I'm going already, don't you? ) Each face is identified as belonging to a particular race or, if you prefer, heritage. At the bottom of each list is a tally of the percentage of Jewish people on that list, the percentage of Jewish people in the US population at large (2 per cent, it says), and the factor by which Jews are therefore overrepresented. On the White House list, for example, 9 out of 11 of the 'current or former senior advisers' to President Obama are identified as Jewish. The implication being, presumably, that this overrepresentation of this minority is evidence of a world conspiracy to shaft the goyim. Leaving that aside, however, and assuming the list doesn't disingenuously include cleaners and tea ladies, I still found the preponderance a little surprising.

Apart from the lineage of bullocks, we don't know anything here in Devon. We don't even pretend to know anything. So I carried my small surprise up to London last week, to this year's very wonderful Spectator Summer 'At Home' party. And at the start, while I was still sober, I brought the question up in the first conversation I had, which happened to be with Mr Con Coughlin, executive foreign editor of the Daily Telegraph.

I approached the question much as I have here, by first describing the Who Controls America? website. But Con Coughlin saw where I was coming from a country mile away.

Long before I'd arrived, he was smiling sadly yet lovingly at me, and shaking his head, as though I were a close brother with a sad history of schizophrenia, who, after a long and blessed period of wellness, had suddenly started complaining again that his television was bugged by the CIA.

And then a momentary darkening of the sky made us both look up at the appearance of the kindly figure of Spectator's drinks correspondent, Mr Bruce Anderson. I have often noticed and admired how the heavyweight London journalists refuse to bother with such bourgeois niceties as greetings, handshakes or indeed preliminaries of any kind. They treat one another as ubiquities. …

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