New Zealand'S Own M.V.D.

Less than four years ago, a weekly newspaper alleged that it had proof that the New Zealand Police Force engaged in "telephone-tapping against bookmakers and for security purposes." ('Truth," 12.10.53.) In the subsequent hullabaloo, from the Commission of Inquiry into the Police Force up to the "retirement"' of Commissioner Compton, the charges about "security" activities were buried in the rather smelly staff about bribery and wireless-masts.

Press reports about the inquiry mentioned a nocturnal meeting between a "Truth" reporter, an ex-secret policeman, and the Prime Minister, after which "Truth" apparently agreed to keep quiet about "security" activities. As it turned out, the inquiry was prevented by its terms of reference from effectively bringing to light all the facts about the murkier side of police life at all by declining to give immunity to witnesses. Thus even cases of improper methods by regular police remained unknown.

But the activities of the secret police who, according to "Truth's" original allegation were engaged in the practice of tapping private telephones, are of their very nature difficult to discover, and the chances of their being aired at the inquiry were made doubly remote. In fact, they remained shrouded in complete silence.

And it is apparently intended to keep it that way. Two years ago, when the Prime Minister received a request for a Commission to be held into the activities of the secret police, he replied point blank: "The Government would agree to no such inquiry" ("Evening Post." 30.6.55).

There have been isolated attempts over the last few years to bring the public a fuller understanding of this little known section of its servants. But still too few New Zealanders are even aware of the fact that it exists, and that it it is a network potentially as dangerous to their freedom as Ivan Serov's and J. Edgar Hoover's are to the ordinary citizens of Russia and America.

The secret police in New Zealand is officially called "the Special Branch", and was, anyway until recently, formally connected with the police Department while being in fact quite independent and responsible only to one person—the Prime Minister.

Coming under heavy fire in 1955 (following the Guy case—see below) the secret police have apparently undergone some changes. "Truth" commented (27.4.55): "One department of the police—if it is a department of the police—which will require some immediate attention is the so-called security branch. In present world conditions some safeguards for security are essential. But they must be provided intelligently and exercised by men who know the difference between active disruption and subversive activity and the normal expression of dissentient political opinion."

It may be that our new secret police chief. Brigadier Gilbert, is intelligent enough to recognize this distinction. Some of the following cases of the activities of his branch date from before he took over the job. But others do not.

One of the men. Mr. Douglas Lake, resigned rather than go through this specious procedure. On pressing his enquiries, he discovered that while part of the charge being levelled against him was based on his wife's having published a pamphlet on her experiences while attached to the New Zealand Legation in Moscow, others stemmed from private conversations he had held with various people over a prolonged period. He was left in the terrible position of knowing that someone present on these different occasions was an informer, and although he was safe in the knowledge that the construction that had been put upon things he had said was in fact utterly wrong, the whole nature of the security procedure was such that he could never confront his accuser and have the matter out.

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In May, 1957, on two occasions visitors arriving at the home of a man holding a position of some importance to the New Zealand Labour Party, after having made all arrangements tor the visit by phone, noticed both on arrival and departure the identical car with two men sitting in it near the street entrance to the house. On one occasion the car was approached, and drove away immediately at high speed.

Each of these cases on its own might not be very significant. But viewed together and with many others which we have no room to mention here, they present a rather frightening picture of a many-legged monster fumbling in a twilight world where its victims cannot see to fight back.

Of its very nature, a secret police must operate on unproven and improvable reports, must recommend action to be taken on the most meagre suspicions, and leave the livelihood of people who come under its surveillance dependant upon the whims and promotion-happiness of men without faces.

Equipped with modern techniques of catching snippets of conversation and isolated bits of information, these people are ideally situated for running on the side a private blackmailing organization—as many F.B.I. and private eye agents have done in the United States.

The whole business is stinking and alien to British liberal traditions. If a man is holding a job which requires unquestioning loyally to the policy of the momento, then it should be made known that the job is a political prize, and that the incumbent will be summarily changed on a change of policy.

If a man is holding a job which requires the sort of loyalty most of us owe, then any charge against his loyally should be made publicly through the normal channels, with the normal rights of appeal. No one should find himself in the world of the shadows, where things of no substance are charged against him by people he can't see.

The introduction of this sort of thing in Britain has not passed by without a roaring fight. At the last Labour Party conference a resolution moved by Mr. Benn Levy, calling for a practical fivepoint programme for limiting secret police powers, received a higher vote than any other motion opposed by the Executive. Levy has gone on to found a nation-wide body called "the Campaign for the Limitation of Secret Police Powers", whose sponsoring council includes Lord Chorley. Clement Davies. Gerald Gardiner. Q.C., Bonamy Dobree. Ian Gilmour (editor of "Spectator"). Elwyn Jones. Q.C. M.P. Lady Megan I.loyd George. Kinglsey Martin. Sir Tom O'Brien. J. B. Priestley. Earl Russell. A. J. P. Taylor. Canon Collins, Dame Sybil Thorndyke and Vicky.

The sooner a campaign is got under way in New Zealand on a similar scale, the better. We draw the attention of readers to the New Zealand Council of Civil Liberties, and recommend that they contact it and give it their support.