A Very English Scandal - Book Summary

Uncovering the ties that bind: The British judiciary and the elite's influence.

When you think of the British justice system, the image that often springs to mind is one of unwavering even-handedness — a legal framework where justice is blind to status, and all are equal before the law. This ideal is ingrained in the public consciousness, bolstered by tales of monarchs and magnates alike facing the scales of Lady Justice. Yet, as you'll soon discover, beneath this veneer of impartiality lies a tangled web where the aristocratic elite wield considerable clout.

Let's delve into the fascinating case of Jeremy Thorpe, a man whose biography reads like a blueprint for political ascendancy: an Eton and Oxford alumnus turned Liberal Party luminary. His story is illustrative of the deep connections and murky undercurrents that often dictate the course of "justice" in high-profile cases.

Throughout this exploration, you will come to understand how Thorpe's elite connections — colloquially referred to as being part of the "Establishment" — enabled him to evade allegations of a crime as severe as attempted murder.

In the course of this narrative, prepare to discover:

- The dubious reallocation of funds earmarked for "electoral reform" towards an assassination plot;

- The perplexing alteration of witness testimony by police authorities; and

- The scope of other misdeeds the Establishment has been accused of sweeping under the opulent rugs of power.

The secret life of Jeremy Thorpe: A hidden scandal amid political ascendancy.

Jeremy Thorpe, an archetype of political prowess, moved effortlessly through Britain's corridors of power. As the Liberal Party's leader in the late 60s and much of the 70s, his reputation appeared spotless to the public eye—an essential stronghold for a man of his ambition. Yet, lurking beneath the surface was a truth Thorpe could ill afford to reveal: he was gay, a risky secret during a time when homosexuality could not only tarnish a career but also lead to imprisonment.

Despite the risks, Thorpe was not always cautious. Described by some as overconfident, perhaps he believed his political leverage and elite connections rendered him untouchable.

It was within this brazen context that Thorpe encountered a troubled young man named Norman Scott. Their interaction sowed the seeds of a saga that would ripple through the British establishment. Introduced via a mutual acquaintance, Thorpe seemed to take an immediate interest in Scott, a skilled dressage rider. Beneath his cordial offer to assist Scott should he ever be in need, a more intimate agenda lay in wait.

Their relationship, which began in the 1960s, was mired in controversy — Scott later claimed that he had been coerced into sexual encounters with Thorpe, marking the beginning of their complicated and covert liaison.

Scott's life path took him to Ireland, but the connection with Thorpe persisted, primarily through Scott's pursuit of a National Insurance card. Yet as Scott's fixation on Thorpe deepened, so too did the threat of their secret surfacing. In his distressed state, Scott began sharing details of their affair; homosexuality's illegality at the time transformed these confessions into time bombs that could detonate Thorpe's career. He even approached Thorpe's own mother, seeking financial support.

Feeling increasingly cornered by Scott's unpredictable disclosures, Thorpe recognized the need for intervention. Silence was imperative, but at what cost? The unfolding drama tested the limits of Thorpe's influence and the elasticity of the Establishment's protective shield.

Desperate times, desperate measures: Thorpe's confidants drawn into a dark plot.

Jeremy Thorpe's political future teetered on a knife-edge, threatened by the whispers of Norman Scott. In an attempt to control the narrative, Thorpe turned to two trusted allies—David Holmes and Peter Bessell—to devise a plan that would safeguard his public standing.

David Holmes, a friend since their Oxford days and a man who shared Thorpe's sexual orientation, was characteristically steadfast in his support. Peter Bessell, though not a member of Thorpe's immediate clique, held Thorpe in high esteem and owed him a considerable debt. In the past, Thorpe's influential connections had come to the rescue of Bessell's business debacles, solidifying a bond fueled by a mix of admiration and obligation.

United by loyalty, Holmes and Bessell consented to aid Thorpe. Bessell approached Scott, offering a regular payment to placate him. This strategy, though, fell short when Bessell declined to fulfill Scott's request for a National Insurance card, wary of drawing a direct line back to the embattled politician.

As Scott's tell-all tendencies persisted, the precarious situation reached a boiling point. In a chilling proposition, Thorpe alluded to his friends the necessity of enacting "the ultimate solution"—a plot to silence Scott permanently.

Both Holmes and Bessell recoiled at the notion of murder, yet they remained connected to Thorpe's dilemma. Perhaps, they thought, the idea was merely a product of desperate bluster. Hoping Thorpe would retreat from this sinister path, they continued to appease Scott with hush money and deterred him from London's social circuits.

Despite their efforts, Scott's voice refused to be quelled. With the stakes mounting and the moral compass spiraling, Thorpe's inner circle found themselves entangled in a narrative far graver than political scandal—they were on the precipice of being accomplices to a crime most foul.

The shadow fund: Election reform money redirected to cloak and dagger dealings.

At the pinnacle of his career, serving as the leader of the Liberal Party, Jeremy Thorpe was fiercely protective of the position he’d fought so hard to achieve. The escalating situation with Norman Scott had become a specter looming over his future, one that Thorpe was determined to dispel once and for all.

In a duplicitous turn, Thorpe approached financier Jack Hayward under the guise of seeking funds for a noble cause—electoral reform for the Party. He called for a sizable £17,000 investment, directing a significant £10,000 of it into a discreet account, separate from Party finances. The explanation Thorpe provided Hayward was nebulous, an allusion to the greater political good that did little to betray his actual intent. Unbeknownst to Hayward, the money was transferred not to the Party, but to Nadir Dinshaw, the godfather of Thorpe's son, and earmarked for a sinister purpose.

The hidden fund was designated to finance the ultimate silencing of Norman Scott. David Holmes was tasked with a mission far removed from political strategy — he was to source a hitman. After the withdrawal of an initial candidate, Holmes was led to airline pilot Andrew Newton. The directive was chilling in its simplicity: eliminate Scott by any necessary means, and a substantial financial reward would follow.

Newton wormed his way into Scott's trust and proposed a seemingly innocuous drive that took them across the striking landscape of Exmoor. The day took a drastic turn when Newton's murderous intent manifested, resulting in the death of Scott’s dog, but fate intervened when the gun aimed for Scott jammed, allowing him to make an escape.

Safeguarding his own welfare, Scott had previously asked a friend to keep a record of Newton's vehicle’s license plate—a detail that would later prove to be the unraveling thread of this morbid plot.

This key piece of evidence linked Newton to Holmes, and consequently, cast a glaring spotlight onto Thorpe. With this newfound lead, Scott seized the opportunity to rally the police into action, propelling the entire ordeal from hushed whispers to the forefront of a criminal investigation. The walls were closing in on Jeremy Thorpe—and the Establishment that had once seemed his most impenetrable shield.

The scandal hits the courtroom: Jeremy Thorpe on trial for conspiracy.

The year 1979 entered the annals of British history, marking the trial of an unprecedented nature as Jeremy Thorpe, once a beacon of political promise, was charged with the attempted murder of Norman Scott. It was a legal spectacle that saw a sitting member of Parliament facing accusations most sordid and severe.

The evidence was compelling; the chain of complicity tenuously linked Thorpe to the failed assassin, Andrew Newton, via his friend David Holmes. To further Thorpe's disquiet, former ally Peter Bessell agreed to testify, armed with immunity and a trove of damaging information. Holmes, whose fidelity to Thorpe was seemingly unshakeable, remained silent, choosing loyalty over legal self-preservation.

Yet, the courtroom drama unfolded with unexpected twists. Thorpe's defense, led by the sharp-witted advocate George Carman, deftly turned the tables, painting Holmes and an associate as rogue agents acting independently.

Meanwhile, the press had a veritable feast upon this saga of political downfall. Journalists like Auberon Waugh of the satirical publication Private Eye dissected every detail, fueling a narrative that turned the public tide staunchly against Thorpe. His career lay in ruins under the weight of public scrutiny and moral outrage.

Thorpe, however, was undaunted. Clinging to a stubborn self-belief, he remained convinced that a return to grace and an eventual peerage awaited. His attempts to re-ascend the political ladder persisted futilely until 1999, but the stain of scandal proved indelible.

In a stunning turn of events, Carman's legal prowess shone through, convincing the jury of the unreliability of Bessell, Scott, and Newton's accounts. The verdict exonerated Thorpe, yet behind Carman's triumph loomed the shadow of the Establishment — insinuated by some, including Bessell, to have played their part in tipping the scales of justice. It was an acquittal that raised more questions than it answered, about the integrity of the judicial system and the degree to which the elite's influence could bend the arc of justice.

Behind the gavel: Did the Establishment tip the scales in Thorpe's trial?

As the trial against Jeremy Thorpe unfolded, many perceived it as a classic courtroom battle; the esteemed barrister George Carman pitting his wits against the damning evidence. Yet, whispers from the well-heeled corridors hinted at a grander force at play, one with power enough to subtly guide the hands of justice.

Thorpe's connections stretched high into the ranks of Britain's elite, manifesting in individuals like Lord Elwyn-Jones, who curiously had a say in selecting the trial's judge. That judge, Joseph Cantley, was known for his moral conservatism, a trait that perhaps rendered him less inclined to believe foul play among the upper echelons of society, especially involving a man of Thorpe's stature.

The bias in the courtroom was palpable as Judge Cantley summates, virtually entreating the jury with a reminder that they must reach a decision beyond all doubt—a customary legal threshold, but delivered with a conspicuous slant towards Thorpe's innocence.

Complicating the trial further was a highly dubious decision made by Peter Bessell to strike a deal with the Sunday Telegraph, amounting to £50,000 for an exclusive inside perspective on the scandal—timed dangerously close to the trial. The transaction, greenlit by none other than the assistant director of public prosecutions, transformed Bessell from key witness to potentially mercenary storyteller, casting a shadow over his motives and, by extension, his testimony.

The suggestion that the associate director, Kenneth Dowling, might have deliberately advised Bessell in a manner that could compromise his credibility in court, raises uncomfortable questions. Some argue it was at best misguided, at worst, a calculated maneuver to ensure Thorpe's acquittal, evidence of a covert coterie working to preserve one of their own.

The Thorpe saga serves as a stark illustration of how the British Establishment may exert its influence to evade scandal. But it wasn't an isolated incident. It was merely a fragment in a mosaic of instances where power, privilege, and protectionism collide, casting doubt on the supposed blindness of British justice.

When power shields its own: The troubling pattern of the Establishment's priority.

The trial of Jeremy Thorpe may have headlined newspapers and shocked the public, but it wasn't the last time allegations of serious misconduct would be levied against UK politicians. Regretfully, it seems this was but a chapter in a broader narrative of the Establishment's tendency to value reputation over justice.

Take, for instance, the chilling legacy of Cyril Smith, once a respected member of Parliament for the Liberal Party. It was not until after his death that the traumas he inflicted came to light, with an appalling tally of complaints from young boys in his wake. No official conviction was ever brought during Smith's lifetime—allegations were dismissed, investigations ceased, and those seeking to expose his behavior were reportedly curtailed, threatened with professional ruin if they persisted.

Smith was not alone in his grim circle; his acquaintance Jimmy Savile stood similarly accused, with his predations coming to public acknowledgment only post-mortem. Savile, a high-profile celebrity and media personality, managed to cloak his predatory behavior in plain sight, even once voicing support for Thorpe during a political campaign.

Adding to this grim roster was Savile's brother, who also held political aspirations as a Liberal candidate. Subsequent allegations depicted a man exploiting the vulnerable, engaging in sexual misconduct under the guise of social welfare.

These instances, each stark in its depravity, form a tapestry that suggests a grim conclusion: for some within the UK's corridors of power, protection of one's peers and preservation of image trump the pursuit of justice. Such cases highlight an urgent need for vigilance and introspection within society. While scandal may at times seem sensationalized by the media, when those in authority stand accused of exploiting the powerless, it is incumbent upon us to look beyond the headlines to ensure the values of justice and accountability reign over political expediency.

Peeling back the curtain on political intrigue and corruption.

The riveting tale of Jeremy Thorpe demonstrates that the hallmarks of political corruption extend far beyond monetary malfeasance. It exposes a world where personal secrets, cloaked by influence and authority, can drive public figures into a web of deception and crime. The Thorpe affair, with its twists and turns of conspiracy, illicit secrets, and a bungled assassination plot, strips away the facade of upright statesmanship to reveal a starkly different reality beneath.

This narrative isn't merely about the misdeeds of a single individual; it probes the scaffolding of the British Establishment itself, challenging the notion that justice is meted out evenly across the societal spectrum. The machinations of the Thorpe case—the manipulation of funds, judicial biases, and the strategic silencing of scandal—all point to an alarming propensity of power to protect its own.

As history has repeatedly shown, the consequences and cover-ups of such actions speak volumes about the vices and virtues tolerated within the political elite. The Thorpe story, though unique in its details, captures a universal truth: when those in power err, their transgressions often speak to a broader institutional failure to uphold values of transparency and accountability. The aftermath of the affair is a call for scrutiny, demanding a vigilant public eye to ensure the legacy of justice remains unsullied by the shadows of influence.