The power of the press

One of the remarkable things about Britain is that you can never tell what season it is from what people are wearing. Those heavy coats you see as you step off the plane may be for winter, or it may be a blustery summer day. Yes, people come to London for the theatre, concerts, opera, and panoply of cultural offerings - but decidedly not for the weather, which is grey at the moment.

However, there's no need to go out to catch good drama in London these days. The best theatre is unfolding on the television news channels. At its heart is the humbling of one of Britain's most powerful, and most detested men: the media magnate Rupert Murdoch.

The Australian Murdoch entered the British media landscape in 1969 when he bought a family-owned tabloid, the News of the World. Murdoch's foes, of whom there are many, would come to hold the man in such contempt that they perhaps underestimated his intelligence. Seen as suited to the tabloid press, with its loud headlines and salacious reporting, Murdoch went from success to success, eventually rattling the Establishment when he bought quality papers, like the Times.

Always criticised for dumbing down his papers to broaden their appeal, Murdoch repeatedly triumphed in the marketplace, making himself into the world's biggest media baron. Disliked for his right-wing politics - it was, after all, Murdoch who gave America the Fox News Channel - Murdoch was not averse to forming strategic partnerships with politicians across the divide, as was the case with Tony Blair.

His appeal to politicians was evident: his ability, through his vast and diverse media empire, to reach voters. Murdoch was both sought after, and feared. Few were those brave enough to call him out for his politics.

Grave repercussions

So when the discovery that one of his newspapers may have not only broken the law, but engaged in practices widely seen as beyond any reasonable form of taste, the repercussions were bound to be grave.

The News of the World was a newspaper which could be called venerable only for its age - nearly two centuries until its sudden demise yesterday. From its birth, it was a paper which dwelled on scandals and crime. Not only were its stories prurient, but its techniques were edgy. Even by the standards of Britain's tabloid press, where front pages scream 'Moral decay!' while the third page blares 'Huge breasts!', the News pushed the envelope.

But it pushed it too far. Some time back, it emerged that the paper had engaged in illegal hacking of the cellphones of celebrities and politicians. At first, heavy settlements and a promise to cooperate with police seemed to get the executives of News International, the company which ran News of the World, off the hook.

Britons have a very high tolerance for intrusions into the lives of the rich and famous. Their view is that since you get rich off being famous, the modest price you pay is that you don't get to choose what it is that makes you famous.

Outraged

But it's one thing to eavesdrop on restless footballers or wayward princes. It's another to poke into the lives of ordinary people, who stand to gain nothing from their fame. When it emerged last week that the paper was hacking into the phones of murder victims, the nation expressed its outrage.

In one case, it turned out that investigators hired by the paper had deleted messages from a murdered girl's cellphone to create space for more calls to come in. Tragically, this gave her parents a false hope she might still be alive. This went beyond the bad taste for which the tabloid press is known, and entered the world of criminality.

News International announced it would shut down the paper, yesterday's edition being the last. The scandal is unlikely to end there, though. With Murdoch and some of his executives being close to British Prime Minister David Cameron, this scandal will have a long shelf life.

John Rapley is the Bradlow fellow at the South African Institute of International Affairs. Email feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com and rapley.john@gmail.com.