Power of the press makes British politicians cower

The paper stuck a photo of Short’s head over the body of a topless woman and found a number of people to declare that, in fact, they thoroughly enjoyed the sexy photographs. “Even Clare has boobs, but obviously she’s not proud of them like we are of ours,’’ it quoted a 22-year-old named Nicola McLean.

It is the fear of incidents like this, along with political necessity, that has long underpinned the uneasy collusion between British politicians and even the lowest-end tabloids here.

Politicians generally deplore tabloid methods and articles - the photographers lurking in the bushes, the reporters in disguise entrapping subjects into sexual indiscretion or financial malfeasance, the editors paying tens of thousands of dollars for exclusive access to the mistresses of politicians and sports stars, the hidden taping devices, the constant stream of stories about illicit sex romps. But the officials have often been afraid to say so publicly, for fear of losing the papers’ support or finding themselves the target of their wrath.

If showering politicians with political rewards for cultivating his support has been the carrot in the Murdoch equation, then punishing them for speaking out has generally been the stick. But the latest revelations in the phone-hacking scandal appear to have broken the spell, emboldening even Murdoch allies like Prime Minister David Cameron to criticize his organization and convene a commission to examine press regulation.

The power to harass and intimidate is hardly limited to the Murdoch newspapers; British tabloids are all guilty to some extent of using their power to discredit those who cross them, politicians and analysts say.