I believe this ghastly woman hastened my friend's death: As libel-storm Tory Lord McAlpine dies, an impassioned Simon Heffer pays tribute



Tory grandee Lord McAlpine has died — after a final year dominated by wrongful smears that he was a paedophile.

The former Conservative Party deputy chairman died at his family home in Italy on Friday aged 71, his family said.

Prime Minister David Cameron led tributes to him, saying: ‘My thoughts are with Lord McAlpine’s family — he was a dedicated supporter of Margaret Thatcher and the Conservative Party.’

The peer’s former colleague Lord Tebbit poured scorn on the paedophilia allegations, saying: ‘I think he was pretty upset about it, deeply upset that anybody would for a moment believe that of him.’

Here Lord McAlpine’s friend of 30 years, Mail columnist SIMON HEFFER, offers his own passionate tribute.

Twitter smear: Sally Bercow, for a time, refused to apologise for wrongfully branding Lord McAlpine a paedophile when he was proved innocent

The last time I saw Alistair McAlpine was in London early last summer.



He had recently endured the extreme distress of being falsely labelled a paedophile, followed by the deserved triumph of seeing his traducers — with one conspicuous exception — queuing up to pay him damages for the vile libel they had perpetrated against him.

The exception was the contemptible Sally Bercow. Even though the woefully ill-informed Newsnight report about molestation in a North Wales children’s home had not named Lord McAlpine — simply suggesting that a ‘leading Conservative’ was involved — Mrs Bercow chose to do so on Twitter. And, when proven utterly wrong, she — for a time — refused to apologise.

To say that she, or the BBC for broadcasting the item in the first place, have blood on their hands would be an exaggeration — but only just. Alistair had been in poor health for years, and had made what he thought was a deathbed conversion to Catholicism while gravely ill in 1999.

Nevertheless, none of us who were his friends — I knew him for almost 30 years — is in any doubt that his end was hastened by this wicked libel, and by the refusal for months of one ghastly, offensive women to admit her crucial part in propagating it.

When I saw Alistair, his voice — which had been hoarse for years following a tracheotomy in 1999 (he’d had a double heart-bypass in 1987, only the beginning of his problems) — was nearly inaudible. He had promised me an interview for the Mail once all the court cases were settled: it never happened, because he simply was not well enough, finally broken down by the cruel strain of being a victim of this terrible lie.

The BBC, taken in by the now discredited Bureau of Investigative Journalism (BIJ), which supplied inaccurate information for the report and then hyped the story up before it was broadcast, apologised and paid Lord McAlpine £185,000 in damages.

It’s interesting to note that a trustee of the BIJ at the time was Sir David Bell, a co-founder of the Media Standards Trust, which spawned the Hacked Off lobby group. He was also an assessor to the Leveson Inquiry into Press freedom.

After the McAlpine fiasco, the BIJ’s editor resigned. The comedian Alan Davies, meanwhile, had to pay out £15,000 after re-tweeting an internet post linking Alistair to the allegations. And the Leftist environmental writer George Monbiot, who had jumped on the bandwagon to drop hints online that the Tory peer was a guilty man, issued a grovelling apology.

Rose up: Alistair made it to the House of Lords after leaving school at 16 with just three O-Levels

Mrs Bercow, however, held out, despite having been offered favourable terms to end the matter. Lord McAlpine’s solicitor, Andrew Reid, said his client offered a year ago to settle without prejudice at a substantially lower sum than would likely be awarded if the case went to trial.

‘He made the offer,’ Mr Reid continued, ‘in an attempt to avoid the detrimental effect of litigation on his health, but sadly Mrs Bercow was not prepared at the relevant time to avail herself of this reasonable offer.’

The strain continued to tell on Alistair until Mrs Bercow, sensing the inevitable, did surrender.

It was a needlessly distressing end to a distinguished life. Alistair was born in the Dorchester Hotel in London’s Park Lane on May 14, 1942, into the famous construction family whose wealth had come from his great-grandfather (‘Concrete Bob’) building the West Highland railway and founding the firm that bears their name.

Alistair was educated at Stowe, and left with just three O-levels at the age of 16, his academic shortcomings being explained years later when it was realised he was dyslexic.



When I last saw Alistair, his voice — which had been hoarse for years following a tracheotomy in 1999 — was nearly inaudible

He was sent to work as a timekeeper and wages manager on one of the family firm’s building sites, but soon realised that other walks of life held more appeal for him, and having seen the business from the ground floor got out in his 20s, though not before having become a director.

He made his own investment in the resort of Broome on the north-western coast of Western Australia, making him a hero in a town to which he had helped bring enormous prosperity.

His champagne-fuelled lifestyle was funded on the proceeds of this success as a property developer, and not from any inherited wealth. He also indulged on a large scale a passion not so much for collecting as for buying and selling artefacts, always very rare, sometimes ancient or even prehistoric.

In the Seventies Alistair, always a committed capitalist, was also a devotee of Europe, because he associated those who opposed it with the Bennite hard-Left of the Labour Party.

Always gregarious, he had used his business contacts to raise money for the ‘Yes’ campaign in the 1975 referendum, and it was in this role that Margaret Thatcher, months into her leadership of the Conservatives, noticed him.

He was only 31, but she made him Tory Party treasurer. For the next 15 years Alistair did what he liked and did best — he ‘lurked’.

Success: Aged just 31, he was made Tory Party treasurer by then-leader Margaret Thatcher

He ‘lurked’ with captains of industry, warned them of the dangers of electing a Labour government, and persuaded them to fund the Tories’ attempts to stop this happening. It is said he raised around £100million for the party, and in 1984 Mrs Thatcher rewarded him with a peerage.

He made no bones about the fact that his loyalty was to Mrs Thatcher and not to the party. His complete absence of political ambition and his independent wealth helped him make some Tory enemies — enemies of whom he was quite proud, for he felt that a man should be judged by them.

He fell out with Chris Patten early on, suspecting his loyalties, and making a judgment about Patten’s character that he never reversed. He took a low view of him because of the greedy way in which he had seen Patten vacuum up the oysters at the lavish parties McAlpine used to give at party conferences — and said that Patten’s subsequent conduct bore out his view.

In his heyday, Alistair had drawn support for the Tory Party from some of the leading industrialists of the time, whom he knew could be relied upon to have made their money honestly and who would be unfailing in their support of the Thatcherite project.



In the Seventies Alistair, always a committed capitalist, was also a devotee of Europe - until Margaret Thatcher noticed his talent

He brought in donors such as Lord Hanson, Hanson’s buccaneering colleague Gordon White, Lord King, who became chairman of the newly-privatised British Airways, and shipping and property magnates the Barclay brothers.

Rarely, he made a mistake — such as taking money from Asil Nadir, the Polly Peck fraudster. Such was Alistair’s integrity, however, that when Nadir was exposed as a criminal he said the Tory Party had a moral obligation to pay the money — estimated at £400,000 — back to Polly Peck’s defrauded shareholders.

The McAlpine method of fundraising was as straight and amusing as the man. Potential donors would be taken for a fine lunch, either at the Garrick Club or at his offices, and a discussion of the political situation and life in general would be unsullied by mention of money.

This, though, would come in a prompt follow-up letter. Sometimes other even less subtle methods were used, such as when Alistair had his staff send copies of Labour’s 1983 manifesto to business leaders, with certain paragraphs (such as about the nationalisation of the banks) highlighted for emphasis.

Eccentric and a renaissance man: He brought great style and enjoyment into public life

It was feared he would quit after his heart by-pass operation in 1987, though he told me at the time his doctors had allowed him to carry on provided he went for a walk each day, gave up bacon sandwiches and ate lots of baked beans.



An attempt by the IRA to murder him by blowing up the house he rented from the National Trust in Hampshire signalled, however, that enough was enough.

He decamped for Venice with his second wife, Romilly, and their small daughter. He loved the city, where he became known as ‘McAlpino’.

When his second marriage ended (his mother had hit him with her walking stick when he left his first wife, Sarah, with whom he had two children) he moved to Puglia in the far south of Italy with his third wife, Athena, and ran a luxurious bed and breakfast in a converted convent.

Although Alistair had seemed restless with his first two wives, his third marriage seemed to bring him lasting contentment. His friends in London saw less of him, partly because of that, but partly because his declining health made travel wearisome.