Time’s up for TV news legend Dimbleby
As he vacates the host’s chair of Question Time after 25 years, ALEX LLOYD looks back at the career of the unflappable David Dimbleby
IN MOMENTS of national crisis and celebration, there are two faces the British are guaranteed to see on their television screens: the Queen and David Dimbleby. The 80-year-old broadcaster has guided us through every general election since 1979, the funerals of Princess Diana and the Queen Mother, the state opening of parliament and the dawning of the Millennium.
His former rival for the Question Time chair Jeremy Paxman once commented wryly: “It’s part of the constitution of this country that all events have to be presented by a Dimbleby.”
The son of war reporter turned patrician BBC broadcaster Richard Dimbleby, David could have found it difficult to move out of his father’s shadow but, like younger brother Jonathan, 74, he has carved out a prestigious TV career, most notably as Question Time’s longest-serving presenter.
Since taking over the BBC’s flagship debate show from Peter Sissons in 1994, he has steered a steady ship through perilous political times and huge social change, at times both bemused and amused. “It has been exhilarating following the twists and turns of British politics,” he once said, of a career that has taken in the Iraq War, the fall of John Mayor and rise of Tony Blair, the 2008 financial crash, not to mention the EU referendum.
The show itself has provoked controversy on occasion, most notably when then-BNP leader Nick Griffin was invited to join the weekly mix of politicians and celebrities on the panel in October 2009.
Many denounced the BBC for giving a platform to his extremist views but Dimbleby did not give him an easy ride, with the Far-Right leader claiming he was the victim of a “lynch mob”.
HE HAS only missed one programme, after he was knocked out by a 700lb bullock at his smallholding in East Sussex in November 2009 and taken to hospital.
There were few slips too, aside from the time he accidentally referred to Robin Cook as “Robin Cock” – and the Labour politician responded by calling him “David Bumblebee”.
Born in October 1938, David’s childhood in Surrey was comfortable, thanks to his father’s career and a family local newspaper business, and he got an early taste for television by appearing on his dad’s travel shows.
The eldest of four, he attended Charterhouse School in Surrey before reading PPE – philosophy, politics and economics – at Christ Church, Oxford.
He graduated with a third-class degree, probably due to his devotion to editing student newspaper Isis – and his membership of the notorious Bullingdon Club drinking circle. His father wanted him to pursue law but in 1960 he joined the BBC in Bristol as a reporter, freely admitting his surname got him through the door. From there, his own talent, gravitas and enthusiasm saw him rise through the ranks, even if a comment about US President Richard Nixon’s press secretaries “disguising the truth” saw him hauled before BBC bosses. He took over presenting Panorama in 1974, which had been anchored by his late father, also moving into documentaries about history and architecture. But while Dimbleby became synonymous with the BBC, he lost out on the top job as director general in 1987 then 2004. The fact that he had just sold the family publishing business – of which he had been sole owner and chairman since 1983 – for a reported £12million probably softened the disappointment a little. His lack of a knighthood remains a mystery too, for a man seen as the voice of the establishment. Despite his sober and suited persona, there is a wilder side to the nation’s “hereditary broadcaster”, who has a private life as colourful as his ties from fashionable tailor Gresham Blake. While making Britain And The Sea five years ago, he got his first tattoo, a scorpion on his right shoulder, to represent his star sign. He said: “You are only old once. I’ve always wanted a tattoo. I thought I might as well have it done now. It’s a dream come true for me.”
But when the BBC News website noticed that his inking had only six legs, not eight, an amused Dimbleby admitted: “I’m no David Attenborough, I didn’t spot that. But apparently there’s a thrash metal band called Megadeth in America and they have a six-legged scorpion, so now I’m a fan of Megadeth.”
While he is adept at asking probing questions, he keeps remarkably quiet about his private life, from his salary and political stance to his marriages.
THE only glimpse into his views was when he signed a letter to The Times in 1967 with 70 other people including The Beatles, backing the legalisation of cannabis.
Dimbleby married cookery writer Josceline in 1967 and the couple had three children: artist Liza, Leon restaurant chain founder Henry and jazz singer Kate. But in 1992, as Kate went to university, he simultaneously moved out of the family home after meeting BAFTA-winning TV producer Belinda Giles.
She was also married and 20 years his junior. The pair went on to have a son, Fred, who has followed in his father’s footsteps to Oxford. They married in 2000, a few months after he officially divorced Josceline, with whom he reportedly remains friends.
He renewed his vows with Belinda last year and took the honeymoon they never managed the first time. The rings they exchanged during the ceremony are said to be inscribed with a quote from poet John Dunne.
With his Thursdays now free, David will have more time to enjoy their homes in East Sussex and Devon, go sailing and watch his beloved Tranmere Rovers Football Club.
Colleagues speak glowingly of his professionalism and patience, but he’s not one to mingle with either celebrities or crew. One said: “He’s a cat that walks alone.” That will be even more true of him now that he has hung up his Question Time microphone for the last time.