Letters to the Telegraph

David McCreadie

A letter to the Telegraph, and the essay it provokes. Defence, politics, markets and the British state, examined with a soldier's eye, a City head and a long memory. davidmccreadie.substack.com

Episodes

  1. Letters to the Telegraph: The Temperament Question

    3d ago

    Letters to the Telegraph: The Temperament Question

    This week I sent a single quotation to the Telegraph. No comment, no gloss. Just Churchill, House of Commons, November 1936, on a government that could not bring itself to rearm. The letters editor will decide whether to run it. But the resignation letters of John Healey and Al Carns, landing within hours of each other on Thursday, made the argument for me. This episode takes those letters as its starting point. Not the politics of the reshuffle, which will be analysed to exhaustion elsewhere, but the question the letters raise about the man who received them. What the discipline of leadership profiling, a tool built by the CIA and used on foreign heads of government before every major summit, reveals when applied to a Prime Minister closer to home. It is the companion piece to an essay I published here on the seventeenth of April, The Hostile Hypothesis, which tested Starmer’s record against an adversarial template. This episode borrows a different instrument from the same tool-box. It asks not what he intends but how he decides, what he reaches for under pressure, and where the gap sits between what he declares and what he allocates. It also invokes the Goldwater rule, the reason psychiatrists are forbidden from diagnosing public figures they have never examined, and explains why the profiling question is both more rigorous and more troubling than any clinical label would be. The Asquith parallel is not decorative. It is, I think, exact. Running time: approximately twenty minutes. This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to David McCreadie at davidmccreadie.substack.com/subscribe

    20 min
  2. Jun 7

    Letters to the Telegraph; The Phoenix

    Welcome back to Letters to the Telegraph, the weekly series in the spirit of Alistair Cooke’s Letter from America. Each episode takes one of my letters to the editor, sometimes published, sometimes not, and walks around the story behind it. This episode is built around a letter on a subject that is hard to escape at the moment, the state of British defence, and one document in particular that was promised a year ago and has still not appeared. A letter can only assert. It has room to say that the war in Ukraine has changed the character of land warfare, and to reach back to the Spanish Civil War for a warning, but it has no room to show why any of that is true, or what it costs. So this episode does what the letter could not. It begins in Washington, with a story a Ukrainian general told against his own allies, and it ends with a young man who told me why he would not join the Army. In between, the Phoenix drone, nineteen years in the making and nine in service, Northern Ireland, and Munich. The letter ran as follows.Sir,A year on from the Strategic Defence Review, the Defence Investment Plan that was supposed to give it teeth has yet to appear. The conventional reading is procrastination.There is a more generous one. The war in Ukraine has demonstrated a transformation in the character of land warfare. Persistent drone surveillance has made the battlefield transparent. One-way attack drones at a few hundred pounds apiece are doing the work of guided missiles costing many times as much. The innovation cycle now runs in weeks, not years; a Russian electronic warfare adaptation is met by a Ukrainian software counter within days. Authority over drones now extends from purpose-built command centres running coordinated strikes down to platoon operators acting in minutes. These are not features of one theatre. They are how land warfare now works. If the Plan has been delayed to absorb that, the delay is well spent.The historical parallel is instructive. The Spanish Civil War of 1936 to 1939 was the Wehrmacht's laboratory, and the Germans entered the Second World War three years ahead doctrinally. Britain and France watched the same war and drew few practical conclusions about combined arms. By June 1940, France had fallen.The Defence Investment Plan, whenever it arrives, will tell us which lessons we have drawn. The harder question is not the equipment list but whether the procurement cycle, the command authorities and the relationship with industry have been redesigned for an environment in which capability is updated in weeks. If the answer is yes, the optimist will be vindicated. If the Plan is a shopping list issued on the customary timetable, the historical parallel will be the other one.Yours faithfully,David McCreadieIn the episode I take its claims one at a time and put the evidence underneath them. Why the innovation cycle now runs in weeks rather than years, and what that has done to the battlefield. Why a country that has understood battlefield drones since 1964, and flew its first that year, still cannot field them on a sensible timescale. What the Phoenix, nineteen years in the making and nine in service, tells us about how we buy our equipment, and why Spain in the 1930’s and Munich in 1938 are the parallels that matter now. It runs to a little over twenty minutes, and it ends, as these things should, not with a document but with a person, a young man who told me why he would not join the Army. I hope you will listen. This Substack is reader-supported. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. Get full access to David McCreadie at davidmccreadie.substack.com/subscribe

    20 min
  3. Letters to the Telegraph; The Cap Badge

    May 26

    Letters to the Telegraph; The Cap Badge

    Welcome to Letters to the Telegraph, a small weekly series in the spirit of Alistair Cooke’s Letter from America. Each episode will take one of my letters, sometimes published in the paper, sometimes not, and walk around the story behind it. This first episode is built around a letter prompted by two stories from the same week, both involving Glasgow and the same regiment. The letter ran as follows. Sir, Two stories from the same week, both involving Glasgow and the same regiment. The family of Fusilier Dennis Donnini VC, the youngest Victoria Cross winner of the Second World War, have donated his medal to the Royal Highland Fusiliers Museum in Glasgow. Donnini was 4ft 10in tall, barely above the Army’s minimum height, and nineteen. Shot in the head at Selfkant in January 1945, he charged the enemy alone, was hit again, and kept firing his Bren until killed. His regiment, the 4/5 Royal Scots Fusiliers, lives on as 2 SCOTS of the Royal Regiment of Scotland. In the same week, by 39 votes to 28, SNP and Green councillors blocked a Labour motion granting the regiment the Freedom of Glasgow on its twentieth anniversary. The SNP called the honour “inherently problematic”. More than twenty Scottish councils, including Edinburgh and Aberdeen, have conferred it. Glasgow itself has rarely granted this honour to a regiment. The Highland Light Infantry received it in 1948, the Royal Highland Fusiliers in 1959, and the Royal Marines in 2014. The first two are the antecedents of today’s 2 SCOTS. One Durham family gave the regiment something priceless. One Scottish council refused it something that costs nothing. A Labour councillor called the vote shameful. The Prime Minister agreed. They are both right. Yours faithfully, David McCreadie The episode talks around the letter for twenty minutes or so. It is about three Fusiliers across eighty years, all of whom served in the same regiment. One won the Victoria Cross at nineteen in 1945. One joined the Army as an orphan and listed his Commanding Officer as next of kin. The third was my friend Dick Davidson, who served in Northern Ireland, at Lockerbie and in the Gulf and who was made compulsorily redundant under Options for Change. Dick died last month. Running time: about twenty-two minutes. Best heard with a cup of tea or, if the hour is right, something stronger. Get full access to David McCreadie at davidmccreadie.substack.com/subscribe

    21 min

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A letter to the Telegraph, and the essay it provokes. Defence, politics, markets and the British state, examined with a soldier's eye, a City head and a long memory. davidmccreadie.substack.com