Jerusalem, the city holy to the three main monotheistic religions where I lived for 11 years as a foreign correspondent for The Times as one of the 2% of Christian residents among 64% Jewish ones, and 32% Muslim always had many aspects of life which were far from holy.
All this was among some captivating beauty and religious sights truly worthy of wonder. To Muslims it is “Al Quds”, “The Holy”, the spot where Mohammed is said to have ascended to heaven on his steed, and to Jews, the incarnation of ancient Israel where Abraham went to sacrifice Isaac, the eternal and indivisible capital of the Jewish people.
Perhaps the worst that I now recall involved my two Jerusalem-born children, both known in the vernacular as Goy (Yiddish for non Jews) Sabras, that is how Israeli Jews saw themselves if they happened to be born in the Land of Israel – it is the word for the fruit of the cactus and is famously prickly on the skin and sweet inside.
They were being educated like many other foreigners at the Anglican International School, situated on the aptly named Rehov Hanevin (Street of the Prophets) and some 300 yards away from the French Lycée, where most French speaking children of diplomats , journalists and others living in the so-called Golden City – a reference to its stunning looks as the sun rose in the mornings – when the incident occurred.
One of the terrifyingly fanatic suicide bombers bred in the teeming Palestinian refugee camps of the region, usually in the geographically close West Bank, captured during the Six Day War of 1967 and probably the curse that will prevent peace as it now houses nearly 250,000 Jewish settlers – many of whom passionately believe the territory they know as Judea and Samaria was God’s gift to the Jews – decided to blow himself up near the French educational establishment, probably in an attack aimed at a crowded bus.
Mercifully on that occasion, no one was killed but the bomber’s disembodied head flew over the stone wall of the Lycée and landed slap in the middle of its football pitch, where by luck no children were at the time playing. It was a macabre sight which few of those who saw it are ever likely to forget.
It made me think of how apt to this day was the memorable description of Jerusalem, also known as The City of David and rather unfortunately, The City of Peace, given that during its turbulent history, it has been destroyed twice, besieged 23 times, attacked 52 times and captured 44 times since the oldest part was settled in the 4th millennium BC, that was attributed to Mukaddasi in AD 985 and later quoted in the formidable History of Jerusalem under the Muslims written by Guy le Strange.s to the saying that Jerusalem is the most illustrious of cities –is she not the one that unites the advantages of This World and those of the Next?” he asked with remarkable foresight. “Still Jerusalem has some disadvantages.
Christopher Walker was The Times Foreign Correspondent from 1974 to 2001 and edited Cherwell while at Oxford
90 years! That’s quite an achievement. To mark it, I thought I should dig out the Cherwells from my time at Oxford, the mid-seventies. I don’t feel that old, but it was, undeniably, a long time ago.
After a lot of searching, I eventually found an old file in the loft which contained my Oxford mementos – essays, party invites, a lot of letters (remember this was before mobiles or Facebook), and a batch of Cherwells. The file was covered in dust, and the copies of Cherwell were yellowing.
What I did I think of the newspapers, after all these years?
Well, the layout was a bit basic – a reflection of the fact that without any training we did the layout ourselves with glue, columns of typeset copy, and Letraset.
Some of the articles were a bit over-written. I have since spent many years as a TV writer and chief sub, and I soon spotted unnecessary adjectives and sentences.
But what was heartening was that the stories were interesting, even 30 years on; we clearly had no problem filling the various sections: and the paper was full of life – angry letters, editorial campaigns, and a lot of humour.
As for the content, the news pages covered protests about cuts and grants, debates over single sex colleges and student representation on governing bodies, and opposition to university investments in apartheid South Africa. There was even a feature on climate change – which must have been ahead of its time!
I suspect many Cherwell staff from that era would identify with these reflections.
But there was another thing, though, which struck me – and that was how strong the brand was. We didn’t work for the student newspaper. We worked for Cherwell. I knew of the name before I went up to Oxford, and it’s still well known and widely respected.
And as we move into the unpredictable and uncertain world of multi-source, cross-platform journalism, I think that having a strong brand is really important.
Indeed, traditional, well-established brands, who have moved decisively into the digital arena, are actually finding that they are doing quite well – reaching new audiences, and developing new products.
The BBC iPlayer, the Economist app, the Times paywall – all of these are redefining the way that we consume and engage with different forms of media. Their strength is that they are combining a well known brand name with a cutting edge digital technology.
So for newspapers like Cherwell, I would argue the future can be bright. It has a strong brand, and a reputation for quality. But, in my view, it needs to continue to match this image to new and emerging technologies.
But enough of the lecture!
I’ll now put my copies of Cherwell back in the loft, where they belong. Happy, but distant, memories of a different time – and a different technology.
Nigel Dacre edited Cherwell in 1976 and was editor of ITV News between 1996 and 2002.
