TRAILBLAZER JAN MORRIS DIES AT 94
TRIBUTES have begun flooding in for Jan Morris, the trailblazing journalist, historian and travel writer, who has died aged 94.
Her son, Twm, announced her death yesterday, writing: “This morning at 11.40 at Ysbyty Bryn Beryl, on the Llyn, the author and traveller Jan Morris began her greatest journey.
“She leaves behind on the shore her lifelong partner, Elizabeth.”
As a journalist Morris broke major news stories such as Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay’s ascent of Everest.
She became a bestselling author of more than 40 books, which included her exploration of foreign lands and trilogy Pax Britannica, about Britain’s empire.
She was also a transgender pioneer, breaking barriers with her 1974 book Conundrum, which detailed her journey from man to woman.
Born James Morris in Somerset in 1926, to an English mother and Welsh father, she always considered herself Welsh. In 1949 Morris married Elizabeth Tuckniss and they had five children together, including the poet and musician Twm Morys.
For the last half-century she lived in the village of Llanystumdwy, Gwynedd.
Poignantly, she passed away on Transgender Day of Remembrance.
Paying tribute, First Minister Mark Drakeford described her as: “Such an incredibly talented author and what an amazing life she had. She was a real treasure to Wales.”
Former Plaid Cymru leader Leanne Wood said on Twitter: “She was a superb ambassador for this country and will be sorely missed.”
In 1943 Morris joined the army, serving as an intelligence officer in Palestine before returning to study English at Oxford University.
She also worked as a journalist and was sent by the Times to cover the 1953 expedition to make the first ascent of Everest.
Morris held onto her scoop by racing down the mountain and wiring a coded message: “Snow conditions bad stop advanced base abandoned yesterday stop awaiting improvement.”
The story appeared on the morning Elizabeth II was crowned. Morris was appointed a CBE in 1999.
Morris was the last surviving member of the 1953 British Everest expedition.
Reporting on the Suez Crisis for The Manchester Guardian in 1956, Morris produced the first “irrefutable proof” of collusion between France and Israel in the invasion of Egyptian territory.
Later she reported on the 1961 trial of Adolf Eichmann.
Morris, a huge advocate of the power of kindness, began transitioning to life as a woman in 1964, travelling to Morocco to undergo sex reassignment surgery.
Doctors in Britain had refused to perform the procedure unless Morris and Tuckniss divorced, something Morris was not prepared to do at the time.
Later they did divorce, although they remained together. In 2008 they were legally reunited when they entered into a civil partnership.
In 2016 Morris told broadcaster Michael Palin: “I’ve enjoyed this life and I admire it. I think it has been a very good and interesting life and I’ve made a whole of it, quite deliberately.
“I’ve done all of my books to make one big, long autobiography. My life has been one whole self-centred exercise in self-satisfaction!”
He said her book on Venice was “one of the most influential books of my life”.
“As a writer she taught me the importance of curiosity and observation,” Palin added.
IN THE space of a week we have lost two of the most important figures in the history of the media in 20th century Wales.
The response to the deaths of the Western Mail’s finest writer Mario Basini and the pioneering founding editor of Radio Wales Teleri Bevan illustrate not only how much they were loved and respected but the impact they had on the generations who came after them.
And it’s not just those of us who shared newsrooms and studios with them who owe them a debt of gratitude. The influence Mario and Teleri wielded at the heart of the national institutions they served would be appreciated by anyone who cares about the importance of the Welsh media’s role in reflecting Wales back to ourselves and telling our own story.
Both recognised the diversity of Wales and spoke for communities who didn’t always have a voice.
Mario, the son of an Italian cafe owner interned as an “enemy alien” in World War II, championed the contribution of families like his own, who had made Wales their home and took equal pride in their heritage and their adopted country. The proudest Merthyr man you could meet, Mario also gave a more nuanced portrait of Welsh valleys life, eschewing patronising stereotypes for the culture I recognised – one that valued education, social justice and community cohesion.
Teleri, a farmer’s daughter from Ceredigion, had to take on the broadcasting crachach when she created Radio Wales to make it more inclusive and accessible, and also ensure English-speaking Wales felt part of the audience – or as she put it: “The disenfranchised majority would no longer be known as the Anglo-Welsh; they were Welsh.”
It was daunting challenge for Teleri at the time. While the existing Welsh opt-outs from Radio Four had a devoted following among Wales’ decision-makers, there was a sense that the voice of the ordinary person was not being heard.
John Geraint, who was BBC Wales’ youngest radio producer at the time, recalls: “I grew up listening to Good Morning Wales in the Rhondda valley but I would have to say that the voices and accents of my neighbours in Tonypandy when I was a boy were very rarely heard across the whole of the BBC’s radio offering.
“We simply weren’t hearing our own accents, our own voices, our own experiences being reflected back to us. And I think there was a groundswell of opinion here in Wales that that was wrong. I remember one of our neighbours was interviewed on the BBC and we thought it was amazing. Everyone locally agreed what she had said was very, very good. The problem was, people said, was the way she said it – she sounded ‘very Welsh, didn’t she!’ Well that was an extraordinary thing to say. The only reason she sounded ‘very Welsh’ was practically no-one else sounded Welsh on the airwaves in those days. And people felt that needed to change.”
It was Teleri’s vision to embrace this broader audience and she outlined her mission statement in her memoir Years on Air.
“I wanted to create a more inclusive and relevant channel, one which was accessible and interactive,” Teleri wrote. “Generic UK radio networks 1, 2, 3 and 4 divided and categorised audiences.
“Traditionally Wales had opted out of Radio 4, and our programmes adopted the tone and style of the channel, but, excellent as it was, with the dominance of news and current affairs, the network’s audience at that time was falling.
“This was an opportunity for Radio Wales to stand alone and to create its own schedule, free of opting out of another channel, and to be more popular in character.
“The challenge for me was to attract new listeners. The disenfranchised majority would no longer be known as the Anglo-Welsh; they were Welsh. The style and tone of the new Radio Wales was to be different and distinctive.”
Teleri faced opposition from inside and outside the BBC – there were even questions asked in Parliament – but she stuck resolutely to her vision of an inclusive radio network that reflected the ordinary people of Wales.
“She was brave and indomitable,” former Radio Wales producer Kate Fenton says, “and actually she was way ahead of her time.”
Teleri also ploughed a furrow for women through the male-dominated landscape of the Welsh media from the 1950s, encouraging female talent to follow her example. In her memoir she recounts UK-wide BBC management conferences where she would be the only woman sat round
a board table of 29 men – being asked to “play Mam” when the tea trolley arrived.
“I learned to play a double-edged graciousness,” she wrote wryly. “I poured my own.”
I knew Teleri by reputation – my first boss when I switched from print journalism to broadcasting was
Megan Stuart, the former editor of Radio Wales who had enjoyed the mentorship of Wales’ first female head of programmes. When Megan once introduced me to Teleri their mutual warmth was tangible. Teleri was obviously a woman who didn’t break a glass ceiling without providing a step-ladder for those who came behind her.
When I had arrived at The Western Mail as a shy and nervous 22-yearold, I only knew Mario by reputation too. His was the byline I had always looked for reading the paper growing up. To me and many readers Mario WAS the Western Mail.
But before I got to know him, I was as much in fear of his legendary fiery temperament as his fabulous writing skills. There were times in the newsroom where he prowled the aisles, venting loudly. On the reporting beat, meanwhile, though short in stature he cut a formidable figure, wielding notebook and pen with a flourish in his signature trench coat.
Yet Mario’s outbursts came from a place of love. He just cared about what he did with a fierce intensity and got frustrated with anyone who didn’t share that passion. And that slightly intimidatory aura was part of his armoury as a truth-seeker.
As writer Peter Finch said this week: “We’ve lost a good man here – Mario, encased in his fawn mac, tracking the stuff that mattered. Bullshit detector always on.”
Broadcaster Huw Edwards underlined this sense of integrity: “Outstandingly talented. My late father was also a great admirer – thought Mario was ‘firm but fair’ which is the best possible compliment.”
And I needn’t have worried about any Basini brusqueness. Sitting alongside each other on the features desk we bonded instantly. Me coming fresh from the Merthyr Express provided the perfect calling card in his eyes, while my Catholic education ensured I knew almost as many valleys Welsh-Italians as he did.
Over the next six years I learned so much from Mario. He became my journalistic father figure. Kind, caring and supportive in person, and on the page always providing the best possible example of what Welsh journalism should be.
As I wrote earlier this week, he knew Wales inside out – its history, its culture and its people. This hinterland informed every word he wrote. And he wrote beautifully. His prose was as expressive as his personality.
He viewed the world through the prism of Wales and Wales through the prism of the world. Mario taught me the privilege and responsibility that comes with writing for a Welsh readership. He exemplified the importance of providing a platform that was distinct from the Anglocentric press that swamped the Welsh demographic. He held a mirror up to Wales and made sure we looked at ourselves – even if we didn’t always like what we saw.
As former Western Mail journalist and BBC Wales Controller Geraint Talfan Davies said: “He cared deeply about Wales but wasn’t afraid to put his finger on our weaknesses. A genuine independent voice for Wales, and Merthyr. He will be missed.”
He will indeed. But it is to be hoped the legacy of Mario Basini – and Teleri Bevan – lives on in those who shape today’s Welsh media landscape. The events of 2020 have demonstrated a distinct and strong Welsh media is needed now more than ever.