Hi °C | Lo °C Probably the most astonishing revelation in a full fortnight of astonishing revelations concerning phone hacking is that Rupert Murdoch's mother is still alive and kicking.
Yes. His mother.
Just when you thought the only formidable female in his life was his wife Wendi - she of the lightning reflexes and savage right hook - Dame Elisabeth Murdoch (102) has re-emerged as the grand dame of the Australian dynasty.
If anything puts a lie to the notion of frailty in a man of only 81 facing up to a parliamentary inquisition, it's the image of his mother across an ocean or two still glued to his every move on a giant screen and muttering - as mothers are wont to do with their brash successful children - 'I told you so' and 'I knew it was too good to be true'.
Yes, Rupert may be the most powerful media mogul in history, he may dangle presidents on a chain and keep PMs standing at the backdoor waiting for his arrival like the family cat from a night on the tiles, but there is still someone - a genuine white-haired little old lady - the rise of whose eyebrows can still bring the Beast of Wapping whimpering to heel.
Dame Elisabeth, of course, has been there and done all that before. With her late husband, Sir Keith Murdoch, she partnered the creation of Oz's biggest press conglomerate and cut a dash across that vast nation between and after the two world wars.
But the greater part of her life - 52 years - has been spent a widow and as a witness to her son's extraordinary rise to global prominence and into what, for everyone but her, is his wizened old age. A legendary figure in charitable giving in Australia, the matriarch's longevity and sustained activity will only reinforce the sense that Rupert may have a whole decade or so left at the helm of News Corporation. Which will come as something of a shock to the wishful thinkers in the British liberal press who dream of a palace coup at the company, a heave against the Murdoch clan which would help them 'get their own back' by proxy on the man who broke the unions in the 1980s.
Dame Elisabeth, apparently, always had misgivings about her son's purchase of the now-dead News of the World back in 1969, and was bothered by the paper's sensationalist coverage and racy image, and about the often invasive strategies of the paper in pursuit of a story.
And indeed, for a lady whose husband was knighted in 1933 and who was accustomed to 'walking with kings', it must have been extraordinary to see how her son's career and fortune came to grow on the salacious coverage of the lifestyles of the rich, the rogue and the royal.
But anyone wanting to see what Britain will look like post-News of the World had a free view over recent days.
It was ironic to note how the Nice Respectable Press in Britain covered the standing down of Prince Andrew from his role as Britain's international trade ambassador, in the same week that the Murdochs - son and grandson - were under oath at Portcullis House.
Once again, with that deferential cosying-up to Buck House protocol, it was all about how the Prince was said (yawn) to have consulted with the Queen and (zzzzzz) spoken to Downing Street about his move which came after some controversy over his (ssshhhh) links to an American sex offender. But nary a peep about how those links - among many another unsavoury connection - had first emerged into the public eye. Oh yes. Guess what. Guess where. Guess who.
