A CENTURY HOLDING POWER TO ACCOUNT

WINSTON Churchill, that iconic warrior for liberty, once said: “A free press is the unsleeping guardian of every other right that free men prize. It is the most dangerous foe of tyranny.”

For 100 years, the Sunday Express has been performing that vital role in our society with its unique brand of vibrant journalism. Since its launch in December 1918, the paper has pioneered news coverage, fought injustice, tackled oppression and exposed folly, as well as entertained the public.

In advance of its first appearance its proprietor Lord Beaverbrook, the mercurial, Canadian-born press magnate, declared that the Sunday Express would be “independent on policy” and would be “a clean, family newspaper which will contain news of interest to every member of the household”.

For a century those are the values that have captivated successive generations of readers.

Yet over those decades, the landscape of journalism has been transformed, making life much tougher for newspapers. When the Sunday Express began publication after the First World War, at a price of just three halfpence per copy, television had yet to be invented, radio was in its infancy and there was no BBC. Papers were, therefore, the dominant source of news.

But today, the press has to cope with the challenge of competition, not only from broadcasters but also from the internet, social media and other forms of mobile technology. Circulation has inevitably suffered as a result.

BUT THAT does not mean newspapers are sliding towards irrelevance. On the contrary, the bewildering array of different sources makes the press more crucial than ever. In a fragmented, often hysterical culture of disinformation, rumourmongering and superficiality, only newspapers can provide the indepth analysis that we so badly need. The press is an antidote to fake news; a riposte to political propaganda.

That is partly because, by their very nature, newspapers are able to carry much more material than broadcasts or online contributions. Tweets, for instance, are limited to just 280 characters, far fewer than are contained in the opening paragraphs of most articles. Similarly, there are far more words in any news page of the Sunday Express than in the average bulletin on BBC radio.

Moreover, because newspapers have to respect their readers, they never descend to the kind of vicious abuse that characterises so much debate in cyberspace. But, in contrast to broadcasters, who must follow strict rules against any political imbalance, newspapers have the benefit of being free to follow their own course.

That freedom allows them both to depart from the fashionable orthodoxy and to act as powerful campaigners for a cause, a tradition embodied in the Express’s renowned Crusader imagery.

It was the press, not the broadcast media, that exposed the MPs’ serial fiddling of their expenses, led by the Sunday Express’s extraordinary revelation in 2009 that then-home secretary Jacqui Smith had claimed for the costs of adult films watched by her husband. In the same vein, pro-Brexit newspapers, headed again by the Express group, took on the establishment over the European Union by countering the Project Fear scare stories and giving a voice to the heartfelt national desire for British independence.

Brexit is exactly the sort of cause that Lord Beaverbrook would have adored. An instinctive maverick and romantic British patriot, he used his dynamism to build a fortune in Canada before he reached the age of 30, then invested his colossal wealth to create an unrivalled press empire in Britain. “Wherever he went, he was like a monsoon. He brought chaos, disorder and life,” said one of his grand-daughters, Lady Jean Campbell.

Fascinated by power, he was close to Churchill and served in the coalition government of the Second World War, most effectively as the Minister of Aircraft Production in 1940 when his volcanic energy galvanised the output of fighter planes. But, despite his explosive leadership, the beginnings of the Sunday Express were difficult, as the paper struggled for popular appeal. “The circulation figures looked ominous,” he admitted, adding that he began to view the venture with “sinking heart”.

From the mid-1920s, he began to find the right formula. More news coverage was provided, with the paper expanding from 10 to 20 pages. The quality of the journalism improved, and writers of a higher calibre were recruited, including the great novelist HG Wells, who began his column – The Way The World Is Going – in 1927.

The following year, the brilliant Scottish journalist John Gordon became joint editor, cementing the Sunday Express’s dramatic rise. The sole editor until then had been James Douglas, a rather incongruous figure in this position, given that he was a literary critic whose passionate intensity led to his nickname among colleagues of “Fleet Street’s sob sister”. One of Douglas’s less edifying campaigns was a call for a state-imposed ban on Radclyffe Hall’s novel The Well of Loneliness because of its favourable portrayal of lesbianism.

Gordon was much more suitable for the editor’s chair. A tough Scotsman brought up in Dundee, he had gone straight from school to be an office boy on his local paper, where he learnt the essence of his trade. He was not only a superb editor, with an excellent judgment of news stories, but also a forthright columnist who “took up his pen as if it were a claymore,” in the words of his obituary in The Times.

IN 1954, another robust working-class Scot, John Junor, took over as editor and remained there for the next 32 years. During his time in charge, the Sunday Express’s circulation peaked at four million, though, like Gordon, Junor won fame more for his influential column that his management.

He was renowned for the insights from his political contacts, the pungency of his invective and the authority he commanded. Critics saw him as unpleasantly dictatorial and morally hypocritical, reflected in a tempestuous personal life characterised by often cruel infidelity.

Supporters regarded him as a natural leader who could inspire remarkable loyalty. “I had never known such a dominating presence,” said one of his journalists.

Among Junor’s successors have been several distinguished editors, such as Eve Pollard, who held the post from 1991 to 1994 and was only the second woman in modern times to edit a national newspaper. For 17 years from 2001, Martin Townsend, a hugely experienced journalist, held the reins, winning a host of accolades for his campaigning on mental health, a cause inspired by his relationship with his late father who suffered from bipolar disorder.

Now at the beginning of its second century in print, a new chapter is about to open for the Sunday Express. The paper will make this journey in confidence, buttressed by its rich history. Lord Beaverbrook once described the press as “a flaming sword that will cut through any political armour”.

The words of its founder can still inspire the paper today.

‘From the mid-1920s writers of a higher calibre were recruited, including the great novelist HG Wells’