Last week the BBC was more animated than at any time I can remember. Not just BBC News Africa, but home base too – actually Portland Place, where a sculpture by a paedophile (Eric Gill) of a man tenderly holding a young boy faces the road, protecting the building’s occupants who just want to be able to do what they do without the public saying mean things about them.
The number of posts the corporation was publishing in its X feed condemning Donald Trump for his “ambush” of Cyril Ramaphosa in Washington was unusual, prompting me to compare it to the number of posts it published about the Ukrainian President’s meeting with Trump earlier this year. By my count, the South African Oval Office spectacle received 1.8 times more emphasis despite being better-tempered.
I called some former Rhodesian veterans who now live in the UK: Lionel and Calvin. They both sniggered. They’ve seen the BBC scurrying like this before. During the coverage of the Rhodesian Bush War, the corporation was firmly on the side of Robert Mugabe’s Marxist guerrillas, and habitually portrayed white soldiers as privileged, brutal, alcoholic wife-beaters.
This was jealousy, obviously. Among others, the Selous Scouts are still today remembered as some of the finest military men in history. When they weren’t fighting, they were farming or looking after their families. Those who knew the culture remember them as being uncomplicated, loyal, rugby-playing guys.
Unplayable
As a fixture the BBC is unbeatable. Its finances are secured by a Royal Charter, set to be renewed in 2027 when the existing term expires. That was signed by Theresa May’s government in 2017, and not even Margaret Thatcher before May was able to assemble enough opposition to the corporation’s radical left-wing editorial policies. When market forces no longer apply, troubled creative individuals can violate the historical record with impunity. At the BBC, they do this by queering-up characters initially documented as straight, and adding diversity to regency costume dramas where it never existed before.
Fun… only if you enjoy observing Freudian things stalking inside the heads of damaged people.
Given the circumstances, the cancellation of the Charter – the corporation’s biggest fear – is unlikely, but nature still abhors a vacuum. Last week the UK Justice Secretary, Ms. Shabana Mahmoud, announced plans to castrate rapists and paedophiles.
In 2013, the BBC sheepishly announced that 81 members of staff – current and former – were under investigation for sexual assault – mostly rape and paedophilia. Eighty-one. Not four. Or nine. 81. Pro rata, that translates to more potential pederasts than there are cops for every 1000 folk on the Cape Flats. Britain’s worst paedophile in history, Jimmy Savile, was the corporation’s biggest star. Rolf Harris wasn’t far behind.
Little apparently changed between 2013 and 2024. Last year, the man who first announced the death of the Queen in 2022 and the corporation’s highest paid newsreader, Huw Edwards, was convicted of possessing (and, oddly, “making”) the worst grade of child pornography – but there’s no jail for people like this in today’s Yookay.
Russell Brand, a former comic and DJ, was recently charged with six counts of rape, some of which occurred during his employment at the BBC. Tim Westwood, a BBC DJ, was the subject of a 174-page report investigating instances of alleged sexual harassment, some involving black minors.
Castration
Enter Ms. Mahmoud. She wants “chemical castration”, which is – because this is the Yookay – a departure from the brave man’s version wherein only two humble bricks are required. The rapist or paedophile, sorry – presenter or producer – will probably attend a clinic, be handed a state-approved comic book to read in the waiting room – in which they will learn that Winnie Mandela invented the microscope – then enjoy a paralysing agent coursing through their veins, certified free of pig fat. (The central bank’s £10 polymer note fiasco enraged many vegans).
This presents the gravest threat to the BBC yet – and there will be signs, such as a mysterious lack of routine mis- and disinformation on BBC Verify’s webpage. Or an empty chair at the 6pm news slot, followed by an apology: (“Mr. Shamsi is regrettably unwell”).
At rush hour exit at the top of Regent Street you may bear witness to hundreds of men with the colour removed from their eyes, staring into the wet pavement as if nothing is worth it anymore.
It is said that the BBC was the original influencer. It criticised Rhodesian soldiers because they were braver and stood for things lacking in some of the BBC’s presenters and producers: those living in a grey land without sunlight, many still with their mothers. They were overeducated and angry.
Shielded by innovation in music and television – which has since vanished – a rotten and disturbed culture was entrenched and endures today, evident in BBC coverage and commentary on Israel, or an attempt to make excuses for the failures of political parties like the ANC.
But the BBC continues to influence: mostly other influencers who now include a bunch of South Africans who happily fell for the legacy of legislative failure cheered on by local media. These people made the same statements that the BBC did about last Wednesday, the same statements about soldiers fighting the Bush War. Perhaps these locals should be asked whether they’re comfortable with their fellow travellers. Perhaps it is too late.
The views of the writer are not necessarily the views of the Daily Friend or the IRR.
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