Staying with a pastor and his wife in rural Denmark left three enduring memories. Helga, the pastor’s wife, may have been an early au pair and was my father’s nanny around 1930. The first memory was feasting on large, ripe gooseberries in the garden. The second was the concealed cellar built to shelter escaping Allied airmen during World War II. The third was learning how, during the Nazi occupation, family and friends gathered nightly around the radio to listen to the BBC World Service. If the Gestapo had found the cellar or if the family had betrayed them, Helga and her husband would have faced a one-way trip to a concentration camp. In a very dark and difficult time, the BBC offered news they could trust—not propaganda, but a beacon of hope for a better future.
So it is a tragedy to hear of the trouble the BBC has now got itself into. At its best, the BBC was, and should be, one of our great institutions. Blessed by guaranteed revenue streams, and divorced from direct political or commercial control, the BBC’s duty was neatly defined by Lord Reith, its first Director General; “to inform, educate and entertain.” All three demand high editorial standards and a focus on impartiality.
Some people are trying to turn this into a left-versus-right argument. The issue runs deeper than that. It must be acknowledged that good people can make genuine mistakes.
Author’s note: This summary preserves the core memories of wartime BBC trust and the author’s reflection on the broadcaster’s evolving role, without introducing new claims or interpretations.