Three PMs in three months

In June 2022, then-prime minister Boris Johnson announced his resignation after more than 50 Conservative MPs published letters calling on him to leave. His successor, Liz Truss, lasted just 44 days. Cue Rishi Sunak, confdently strolling into the role in October, marking Britain’s second unelected leader in as many months.

Meanwhile, the economy plummeted following Truss and Kwasi Kwarteng’s minibudget, Suella Braverman resigned as Home Secretary just to be reinstated six days later, and the death of Queen Elizabeth II plunged the country into a period of mourning. Behind the ever-changing headlines was a plethora of political journalists. What was it like reporting one of the most politically unstable times in British history?

Ben Riley-Smith Political Editor, The Telegraph

On racing to Westminster after Rishi Sunak’s resignation as Chancellor...

“I had gone to Cornwall for two days, and on the Tuesday I was coming back on the train. And suddenly, around 5pm, in bursts Rishi, then Sajid Javid releasing these letters of resignation. I thought ‘oh my god, this could be the moment they boot out Boris,’ so I had to leg it.

“The train got in about 6pm and I had to leg it in my holiday clothes to Parliament and immediately jump on the paper. Our print deadline is 8:30pm, and then the paper goes off to print at 9pm, 9:30pm. It was a really late night, we ended up ordering in some really crap pizza. That was the only pizza place that was still open.”

On the day before Boris Johnson’s resignation...

“There were dozens and dozens of people quitting their jobs. Then I remember, the cabinet had gathered in Downing Street to tell him he was going to go, and we were like, ‘surely this has got to be the point’. And just as the print deadlines were approaching, the Number 10 spinner called round some of the political editors saying ‘Look Boris Johnson isn’t going anywhere, you’re not gonna get your lectern moment, he’s fghting on’.

“That night, they were kind of determined to try and fght on. So if you look at all the front pages from that day, it is kind of a defant Boris fghting on despite the writing on the wall. Then the next morning, he [resigns].” what’s actually happening?’. Our royal correspondents are trying to reach out to the palace to reach out to various different contacts, trying to work out what’s happening. It became a huge pause on politics for the

On the impact of the Queen’s death on lobby reporting...

Rachael Burford Political Correspondent, Evening Standard

On stopping the press when Liz Truss resigned...

“The Evening Standard goes to print at 11.30am, with all copy fled before 11am to ensure there is time to edit it and for the subs

“Rumours started circulating. And then [the political editors] are scrambling, trying to work any contact we’ve got saying, ‘Is it true? Can we ascertain to get it on the page. By that time on October 20, we knew Truss was probably going to resign at some point but not that it would be within the following hour or so.

“We’d fled copy and gone to press with a story along the lines of ‘Liz Truss faces further pressure to quit’, and had to stop the press when it was confrmed she was resigning that afternoon. It’s the frst time I’ve seen it done in my eight years as a journalist. It was pretty frantic fling a new front page.

“We had about 10 minutes to get copy to the subs, put on a page and send it back to the printers to ensure we’d be able to get enough copies out in time for commuters heading home. It meant we were the frst physical newspaper to carry the news that Liz Truss had been ousted as PM after just 45 days. Boris Johnson had resigned early in the morning just a few months earlier, in perfect time for our deadline.”

On the Queen’s death ...

“We saw Nadhim Zahawi, then Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, come into the Commons chamber and pass Liz Truss a note during a debate on energy prices. A note was then passed to the Labour front bench. It was obvious that something signifcant had happened. What followed was a statement from the Palace about concerns for the Queen’s health.

“A lot of hushed conversations were being held in hallways around Parliament that afternoon and there was a general sense of gloominess. You’d overhear people saying things like ‘the man in charge of fags has just been seen going into Downing Street’ as we all watched members of the royal family arriving at Balmoral on TV.

“This was in the early afternoon and TV correspondents were getting black suits shipped to the offce or heading to the nearest clothes shop to buy a black jacket. At 4.30pm, the Prime Minister was told by the Cabinet Secretary that the Queen had died, but it wasn’t confrmed to the public until two hours later. No one had ever covered the death of a British monarch, so no one really knew what offcial procedures would be or who would make announcements.

“The fact it happened just days into Liz Truss’ premiership added to the uncertainty. There was a lobby briefng in Downing Street that evening where it was confrmed to journalists that Britain would go into a 10-day period of national mourning and likely end with the state funeral. The next two weeks were bizarre. Our offce is right by Westminster Hall so every day you would walk past thousands of people who had queued for hours to see the Queen lying in state.”

Ryan Sabey Deputy Political Editor, The Sun

On an average day during this period...

“Things were changing so much that the paper, during that time, was sort of being ripped up sometimes hour by hour. Sometimes we just didn’t know what the story the next day was going to be until sort of six, seven o’clock when we’re right up against the deadline.

“You’d be writing up until writing and fling stories until eight, nine o’clock at night, and then anything could happen until Westminster and Parliament and people went to bed at sort of 10, 11pm. It was a full-on time. They’re kind of like that most days anyway, but particularly at that time, you really couldn’t switch off; the adrenaline was pumping.

“At the end of the Truss time, everyone was pretty whacked. It was hour by hour, day by day, it was just so crazy.”

On deciding what would go in the paper...

“We probably weren’t deciding until 7pm or even later, what was going to be the story of the day because things changed so quickly.”

On three PMs in three months...

“I just don’t think you’ll get, you know, a crazier time. It was almost as if you couldn’t quite tell whether the Government was going to fall at any moment, it just sort of felt like everything was so precarious. Really, it was just pretty incredible.”

On the day Kwasi Kwarteng resigned as Chancellor...

“I remember that being on a Friday. And parliament can be quiet on Fridays, but this was the most dramatic day. I think we’ve had one of the most dramatic days we’ve had.”

On the atmosphere in the lobby...

“Every time something happened, there was a sharp intake of breath, because you just think it can’t get any more ridiculous. And then it does. And I think that’s what keeps it interesting. And that’s why we want to do it. It was just a drama, a soap opera, you couldn’t have made it up. I think that’s what keeps us interested and keeps the readers interested.”

The Jawaharlal Nehru University campus in New Delhi is witnessing a commotion. Students have gathered to attend the screening of a documentary series. There is an air of nervous anticipation. As they sit to watch the programme, the electricity goes out and their phones lose signal. A few minutes later, the students are attacked by a mob. The viewing is forced to stop.

Screenings at other renowned universities across India — The Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Jamia Millia Islamia and Delhi University — suffer the same fate.

The two-part documentary, India: The Modi Question, has been banned by the Indian government, using emergency powers granted under the country’s information and technology laws. The BBC offces in New Delhi and Mumbai were raided for three days after the documentary’s release. The authorities accused the broadcaster of tax evasion. Easy to wonder, why all that fuss over a documentary?

The flm explores Narendra Modi’s relationship with India’s Muslim population, the biggest minority group in the country.

Given particularly close attention is Modi’s membership with the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), a Hindu nationalist organisation founded with the purpose of making India a “Hindu rasthtra” – a country solely for Hindus. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) — the political party that Modi leads — is the political extension of the RSS.

So what is it like for the journalists behind this documentary to be in the eye of the political storm? Surabhi Tandon, the lead interviewer, tells XCity, in her frst interview since the flm’s release, that the documentary may alter her career from here on.

“I think journalism in India will become increasingly challenging for those who want to be critical of the government,” she says. “It is becoming obvious that if you dare to cross swords with them, they don’t forget. There is a chance you will have to pay a very high price for it; we are witnessing so many journalists who have been arrested or punished for their work.”

Modi became the chief minister of Gujarat in 2002. The frst episode of the documentary includes interviews and reports that blame Modi for the Gujarat riots that killed over a thousand Muslims, including a previously unpublished report by the UK Foreign Offce that described the violence as “a deliberate, and politically driven effort targeted at the Muslim community”.

Tandon was approached for the documentary in June 2021 by an executive producer at the BBC. The work began in August. “I took on the project because I knew it was an extremely important topic,” she explains. “Despite the challenges, and obvious risks, it felt like it was the right thing to do given how easily people forget the past. More importantly, I thought that the upcoming generations should know about what happened in 2002.”

The second episode covers the Modi government’s attempt to enact the Citizenship are conducted on social media, especially against women – their personal data may be posted online as an additional incitement to violence.”

Amendment Act in 2019. The legislation, along with the National Register of Citizens, was meant to grant fast-track citizenship to non-Muslim migrants from Pakistan, Bangladesh and Afghanistan. The decision was met with ferce protests across the country as it was seen as an attempt to exclude Indian Muslims.

This period also saw a number of mob attacks on Muslims. The documentary features an interview with the mother of 23-year-old Faizan Alam, who was beaten and killed after being forced to sing the national anthem by the police.

The interviews conducted by Tandon contain graphic details about the violence that unfolded in 2002 and 2019. Tandon says detailed security was needed to protect sources. “The BBC has very strict protocols around high-risk flming,” she reveals. “Since the beginning, everything was segregated. While there were producers doing the research, others were setting them up by getting the sources’ dates and addresses. My team would go to the site with cameras for the interview. At times, we did not even know the name of the person we were going to interview till it was 48 hours away. We were also constantly asked to reset our phones because of fear that some of the people we were interviewing were already tapped.”

Thinking about how the documentary was received in her home country, Tandon, who’s worked for VICE, France24 and Al Jazeera, admits: “We always knew there would be consequences but we did not anticipate them to be to this extent. Banning the flm, commissioning tax raids on BBC India offces – these are all actions taken with a clear purpose, to send out a strong message saying there will be repercussions if you dare to say something the government does not like.”

The project was shot in a country now deemed to be one of the most dangerous in the world to practice journalism. A 2022 report by Reporters Without Borders concluded: “An average of three or four journalists are killed in India in connection with their work every year. Terrifying coordinated campaigns of hatred and calls for murder

However, the Emmy-nominated journalist has fears for more than just her safety. “I have always known that the work we do as journalists requires taking constant risks,” she says. “But the fear now in India is that you could be punished for that work. And the way the government can come at you is not always direct.”

She continues: “This is what journalism is. It’s about telling diffcult stories, asking diffcult questions or to archive the present as it unfolds. It’s about not forgetting history. It’s what the writer Arundhati Roy said in the documentary – of course, by doing these interviews I took a big risk but I want it to be known that not all of us agreed with what was happening in this country,” she adds.

As for the future of journalism in India, Tandon believes it is going to be harder for the upcoming journalists. “India’s acceptance towards journalism is moving to the way it is in China. I am quite pessimistic about the future of democratic rights in India. Hopefully, young people like you will change that.”