As condolences flowed in for Rod Liddle, the columnist for the Sunday Times and the Sun who passed away at the age of 66, the sentiments expressed were notably restrained and polished. Ironically, these were the very traits that Liddle’s obituaries highlighted as his strengths—his directness, ability to provoke, and relentless critique of the liberal establishment. Michael Gove described him as “special and brave,” but the context of this bravery remains ambiguous. In what ways did he challenge the liberal establishment?
This reluctance to address the complexities of his character was evident during a segment on Radio 4’s Today programme, where Liddle served as editor in the 1990s. Justin Webb remarked, “If there was a golden thread that connected the person you saw back then with the person of a few weeks ago, it was a distrust of authority.” However, Liddle’s column often targeted not those in power, but rather marginalized groups, including Muslims, immigrants, transgender individuals, and African-Caribbean men from Harlesden. His critiques were frequently directed at those on the fringes of society, rather than the institutions of authority.
There exists a tension in how we respond to death. We often aim to speak kindly of the deceased, hoping not to add to the sorrow of their loved ones. Yet, does this imply we should avoid discussing uncomfortable truths? This poses a genuine dilemma.
In the 1990s, I considered Rod Liddle a friend. At that time, he often turned his satirical lens on himself, poking fun at men caught in extramarital affairs, those leading chaotic lives, or those reaching a dead end. Any ethnic caricatures he presented appeared secondary to a worldview in which he was the most absurd figure. This self-deprecating style continued in his 2003 collection of short stories, “Too Beautiful for You,” where one memorable tale involved a man rushing to a hospital after a train crash, only to realize, while bleeding out, that he truly loved his wife.
Initially a member of the Socialist Workers Party in 1983 and later a Labour Party researcher in 1990, Liddle’s leftist leanings were rooted in a self-deprecating humor that expressed a sense of shared human frailty: “I’m a mess, you’re a mess, let’s navigate this together.” While this may sound vague, many on the left would likely understand the sentiment behind it.
Witnessing Liddle’s evolution into a vocal supporter of the right, often engaging in race-baiting rhetoric, was disheartening, though not entirely unexpected. Sociologist Will Davies described this post-1968 archetype as someone who, starting with adolescent rebellion and punk ideals, eventually veered towards racism in the 21st century, as it represented one of the few remaining transgressions. The right-wing media eagerly rewards notable figures who shift from left to right.
In his book “A Dead Cat on Your Table,” Peter York explores the interconnectedness of right-leaning think tanks, mainstream right-wing media, and “alt-right” outlets, arguing that what we refer to as “culture wars” are less ideological battles and more about gaining control for capitalistic purposes. Dishearteningly, this strategy proves effective: GB News, which received considerable financial backing from hedge funder Paul Marshall, now boasts higher average viewership than either Sky News or BBC News. Arguably, the most significant outcome is that public discourse often revolves around topics that GB News prioritizes.
One aspect of Liddle’s legacy acknowledged in the obituaries was his contentious relationship with Yasmin Alibhai-Brown. Webb noted, “they loathed each other,” yet later questioned whether there was any genuine animosity. However, the term “feud” may overstate the situation; Liddle frequently targeted Alibhai-Brown in his columns, critiquing her views more harshly than similar opinions expressed by others. This tension escalated during a 2014 encounter on Channel 4, where former Conservative MP Michael Fabricant suggested he might have physically confronted Alibhai-Brown.
Liddle, as the editor of Today, would likely have expressed frustration at attempts to portray him without acknowledging his controversial statements. Many of his remarks are easily searchable, such as his assertion that he could not be a teacher due to inappropriate impulses towards students, or his numerous critiques of Muslims, suggesting that their faith was a fundamental cause of terrorism. He even posited that the 2019 election should be scheduled on a day when Muslims could not participate to minimize their voting power. Liddle from the 90s would have argued that conversations surrounding racist misogyny cannot be justified simply by claiming to have good intentions behind them, emphasizing that it is not an acceptable approach.
One of my last encounters with Liddle occurred a few months ago during a Sky News appearance. He appeared markedly different due to his struggle with chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD). When I inquired about his well-being, he candidly responded with “depressed,” and while I pressed for further details, it was evident what weighed on him. Having lost my mother to COPD the previous year, I recognized the toll it takes on one’s health and spirit. He remarked, “I’m no longer priapic,” reflecting a sense of loss and resignation.
The situation left me feeling profoundly sad; despite his public persona, he remained the same individual, grappling with the absurdities of life while clinging to his characteristic humor. It is tragic that his prejudices, often expressed in a performative manner, had real-world ramifications, fueled by those who profited from his provocative commentary.
