The people who are suffering most from the post-Macpherson collapse in police morale and the undeniable rise in street crime

The people who are suffering most from the post-Macpherson collapse in police morale and the undeniable rise in street crime are members of the ethnic communities themselves.Only a fortnight ago, following the Home Secretary’s visit to North Peckham in the wake of the murder of Damilola Taylor, black people angrily denounced Mr Straw, who arrived accompanied by a huge retinue of police, saying, “when you’ve left here we won’t see a policeman.”Mr Hague also noted that Britain’s leading black newspaper, The Voice, had recently called on black people to face up to the way that a disproportionate number of street robberies were committed by young black men against other black people.Surely part of the reason for this has to be that there is now also a disproportionate unwillingness on the part of the police to get involved in normal duties in many of our most distressing housing estates. It was The Voice again that noted that “only one or two generations after the Windrush generation, the descendents of these hard-working migrants are murdering each other in drive-by shootings, fighting each other for the right to peddle drugs on street corners and allegedly, in the case of Damilola, bullying each other to get respect.”The problem for politicians in talking in these terms, however, is that they fear an outcry from the white middle classes who have no idea – and do not wish to know – what life in a ghetto is really like. The prejudice once directed against colour has now turned into a prejudice against wanting to know about the reality of life on the wrong side of the tracks in the black sink estates. Much easier to stick to the agreeable script of our “diverse culture” and “enriched multi-ethnic society”.Diversity is to be applauded, but its proponents often ignore the uncomfortable issues associated with a multiracial society. Anyone who dares to raise such matters is branded a racist or, if they are in Mr Hague’s position, a race-card player.

Middle-class white voters who absolve their guilt feelings by ignoring these realities will be even more determined to vote against Mr Hague. But he has spoken an unwelcome truth – albeit to his electoral disadvantage.mrbrown pimlico.freeserve.co.uk. It was a casual remark over pizza in Battersea last Tuesday night. We’d just been to the school carol concert, an engagement for which I had sacrificed not one, but two office parties, and some major networking opportunities no doubt Blessed are they who put kids before careers.

“I’ve got a ticket to hear Bill Clinton speak at Warwick University on Thursday,” said the children’s aunt, “you don’t want it do you?” Want it? In 40 years when my grandchildren, possibly great grandchildren, are clustered round my knee they will listen with the same wide-eyed awe to my account of the day I went to Warwick to hear President Clinton, just as I listened recently to a very, very old man describe how his father lifted him up on to his shoulders for a better view of Queen Victoria’s funeral cortÿge Some things have to be witnessed in the flesh. It was a casual remark over pizza in Battersea last Tuesday night. We’d just been to the school carol concert, an engagement for which I had sacrificed not one, but two office parties, and some major networking opportunities no doubt Blessed are they who put kids before careers. “I’ve got a ticket to hear Bill Clinton speak at Warwick University on Thursday,” said the children’s aunt, “you don’t want it do you?” Want it? In 40 years when my grandchildren, possibly great grandchildren, are clustered round my knee they will listen with the same wide-eyed awe to my account of the day I went to Warwick to hear President Clinton, just as I listened recently to a very, very old man describe how his father lifted him up on to his shoulders for a better view of Queen Victoria’s funeral cortÿge. Some things have to be witnessed in the flesh.
Of course I do, I said, and then as always with these things, she rang to say sorry, because as she’d initially refused it, her host the American Embassy had withdrawn the invitation.

But what about my wide-eyed grandchildren? I rang the American Embassy, and was told snootily that I was far too late. All guests had to be vetted by the FBI, the CIA, Downing Street, the Met, the Warwickshire constabulary.. I tried the press office at No 10. A nice boy called Marcus said the auditorium was full but he’d put my name down for the overflow hall I’m used to overflows. I’ve seen Pavarotti on a giant screen in Covent Garden piazza when the Royal Opera House was sold out, and it was just as good – better, in fact, because you could go off for a drink in the boring bits.Why did Clinton choose Warwick? I asked Dr Carol Rutter, a lecturer in the university’s Department of English. Dr Rutter, whose lectures, according to Eng Lit students, have done as much to inspire them to read Shakespeare as Leonardo DiCaprio playing Romeo, said it was Tony Blair’s choice. Somewhere new, challenging, forward looking, and manifestly devoid of ivy was what he wanted for Clinton’s valedictory speech on foreign soil Warwick fitted the bill I could have told them that. Some of the brightest school leavers I know have chosen Warwick over Oxbridge because the courses are so much more exciting.

So why wasn’t Dr Rutter going to see the President? Because it clashed with the school concert, she said. Blessed are they who put kids before Clinton.The campus was teeming with security men. Trench-coated CIA heavies with sniffer dogs had inspected every inch of the place and, among other things, changed the signs saying “toilet” to signs saying “rest room”, thereby confusing hordes of desperate school children who had also arrived at the Arts Centre on Thursday to see a performance of The Twits by Roald Dahl It was all pretty chaotic. The milling masses in the foyer downstairs eating blueberry muffins were Clinton’s less important guests, the milling masses in the foyer upstairs buying ice-cream cornets were waiting to see The Twits, there was a small reception with canapés for the President’s VIP guests such as Stephen Hawking and Germaine Greer, but by far the best gastronomically (I tried them all) was a discreet buffet lunch hosted by the White House featuring smoked duck, Caesar salad and fresh cream cake.”If there’s a spare seat in the hall, could I have it?” I asked a fierce-looking woman with a clipboard guarding the entrance “I am not authorised to prioritise,” she replied crisply. “Stick around – you’ll get in, trust me,” advised a man from the White House wiping spring roll from his chin He was right Clinton hates empty seats. Ten minutes before he arrived, the CIA heavies were dragging anyone they could find into the auditorium.