The Justice Game
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THE JUSTICE GAME - Robertson, Geoffrey - Chatto & Windus
College) arrested the cabinet ministers, took them by night to a lonely stretch of road, and quite literally bashed their brains out. They put the bodies in a car and pushed it over a cliff, and the Cabinet Secretary announced that the four had met with a road accident. There was no inquest, as the law required, because Hastings Banda was the law. There was no mourning permitted for Dick Matenje (the Secretary of Banda’s Malawi Congress Party and Deputy Prime Minister) or for his three.
Libel action was about what happened at a meeting between the Prime Minister and the Vatican diplomat. The Review had quoted a priest as suggesting that Lee had attacked the Church. Lee claimed that this was a false and defamatory suggestion, because he had merely asked for a change of archbishop: A: All I told the Vatican representative was, please can I have an archbishop who can keep his priests out of politics. Q: ‘Send me an archbishop who will keep his priests out of politics.’ Was that.
Him look like a Ku Klux Klansman as he walked to a cell opposite the gallows for a final tranquillising prayer with the priest. He did not see the guards behind, who dragged him across the narrow corridor of death row to the gallows-room, and strung him up. ‘We hear the flying of the trap – we hear it distinctly,’ Michael told me, with emphasis. The rest is not silence: on death row the screaming rage begins again, at the loss of a fellow inmate whose body the meanwhile twists slowly to and fro,.
Making to the defence of the West. The real absurdity was that the Soviets knew all about SIGINT. They had been told, in detail, by defectors: George Blake had given them a fairly accurate global picture during his years in MI6, and in the sixties and early seventies a number of senior SIGINT operatives had defected to Moscow. Moreover, the SIGINT capacity of a base is obvious both to the naked eye and to the Soviet ‘spy in the sky’ satellite. A microwave transmitter cannot be hidden, let alone.
Whether the reason I could not read it was the awfulness of the poetry rather than the grossness of the blasphemy. What I read instead was a sonnet by John Donne (‘Batter my heart, three-personed God’) which ends: Yet dearly I love you and would be lov’d fain, But am betroth’d unto your enemy; Divorce us, untie, or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I Except y’enthral me never shall be free Nor ever chaste except you ravish me. The ecstasy of the metaphysical poet’s.