A goodly number of people, complaining about the lack of Daniel Hannan's prescient and historic speech to the Prime Minister have complained about not only the BBC's lack of coverage of the event, but the failure of two chief correspondents, Nick Robinson and Mark Mardell, to even give it a mention. I wondered why?
What is it about the BBC that has us all in thrall to it, in a manner that speaks of the kind of faith you normally associate with a religious cult? What makes us all rush to bbc.co.uk in times of national crisis?
Let's roll back a bit, to my old friend, recent history. Years ago, at the height of the Cold War, the USSR regularly blocked BBC transmissions. They did this because they realised that the Corporation was a powerful threat to control of their particular narrative. After the wall came down, BBC transmissions were not only allowed in Russia, but the were relayed on FM by Russian Stations. This practice continued until recently, when Putin ordered FM transmissions of BBC programmes to be dropped.
When I was training to be a broadcaster it was acknowledged that the world sought to find out, not only the truth, but the unbiased truth, by tuning in on their scratchy, medium and short wave transistor radios to the BBC's World Service. The BBC was the benchmark in truth; a drawn sword parting the darkness of ignorance, as it was characterised by it's first Director General, Lord Reith.
Before that, news of the War with Germany was sent straight to those valve radios from Alexandra Palace. We may not have heard the whole truth then, but it was a pretty good rendition of it. The fact that the BBC's wartime output was propagandistic, is not in itself a bad thing as this was mitigated by the fact that it was on the side of the people and on the side of right. It was also a reflection of the patrician stance the Corporation took in patrician times.
The value of a media organisation, or indeed an individual, is other peoples' opinion of it. Vaclav Havel, former President of Czechoslovakia, wrote a play called "Largo Desolato" The hero of the play, Leopold, is a hero/dissident professor who fears being sent to prison for his outspoken attacks on the regime. He is visited by two "secret police" in what is, artistically a sort of homage to Beckett. Leopold finds that his identity is vested in his actions; his profile as a dissident. It comes as a shock to him at the end of the play that the secret police are no longer interested in him because he is no longer important, no longer a threat.
The lesson, I suppose you can learn from this is that the value of an organisation is also predicated upon the importance people place on it. In the case of the BBC, it has been venerated, apotheosed, as the fount of truth and knowledge. Perhaps that goes some way to explaining the outrage evinced by those who believe it is no longer these things. It has legitimized the true reporting of facts because it once, scrupulously did. It it now like a defunct religion, relying upon a rump of fanatics to prop it up.
If the BBC continues to be so out of touch, so malign in it's intent to prop up a wicked regime, I hope that people will not only lose interest in it, but cease to worship at it's hallowed portals.