In the annals of those connected with the contemporary Royal Family, it is hard not to see the journalist and broadcaster Martin Bashir as occupying the position of chief pantomime villain. He was launched to fame (some would say notoriety) when he interviewed Princess Diana for Panorama in 1995, eliciting the admission from her that ‘there were three of us in this marriage’. The show was met with mixed reactions. Prince William later suggested that it was a ‘major contribution to making my parents’ relationship worse’.

Bashir left Britain for a lucrative career in the United States, and, from a professional perspective, all seemed to be going smoothly for him. Then it was revealed in November 2020 that Bashir had used forged bank statements to con Diana’s brother Earl Spencer into persuading his sister to grant the interview. His reputation promptly plummeted into the gutter. He had to give up his job as – of all things – religion editor at the BBC and since then has routinely refused to discuss the matter publicly, citing ill health.

Bashir’s brass neck was the reason for his initial success, followed by his inevitable downfall

The Panorama scandal has undoubtedly been one of the greatest stains on the reputation of the BBC over the past few decades. But now recently released documents have managed to make matters even worse.

It has transpired that, a few months before Bashir was exposed, he was asked by Robin Seatter, head of BBC History, to justify his actions. Predictably, he blamed the rumours circulating on little more than envy and racism. He stated to Seatter that ‘I am sorry to hear that this so-called “forgery” story has reared its head again. It played no part in the interview but did allow professional jealousy, particularly within the corporation, to hang its hat on alleged wrongdoing.’

He then went on to suggest the reasons for this. ‘At the time, it was also apparent that there was some irritation that a second-generation immigrant of non-white, working-class roots should have the temerity to enter a Royal palace and conduct an interview.’ He signed off with a parting shot of remarkable obtuseness, given the revelations that were about to emerge. ‘It would have been so much easier if one of the dynastic families (Dimbleby et al) had done it!’ Yet Bashir’s brass neck was the reason for his initial success, followed by his inevitable downfall. Others would have admitted wrongdoing and fallen on their sword – not so this particular broadcaster.

The emergence of these documents into the public domain has come courtesy of the investigative journalist Andy Webb. He has stated that the matter is far from over, given how heavily they continue to be redacted. He commented, ‘The BBC clearly admit that documents were being withheld. In my book, that’s a cover-up. And it’s obvious even on first glance that this material is highly relevant, though the BBC assured the judge that it was entirely irrelevant.’

Earl Spencer, Diana’s brother, who at one stage was falsely accused of having connived with Bashir, remains unimpressed, said recently: ‘The problem here is one of the integrity of people at the BBC. People at the BBC who are responsible for this have hidden behind expensive lawyers at a time when the BBC, this great national and international institution, is making cuts, and I think that is obscene.’ The BBC insists its redactions comply with the Freedom of Information Act and strongly denies having acted in bad faith in 2020.

It remains a toxic and fascinating mix: royalty, the BBC, journalists on both sides of the ethical divide and the suggestion that there are still further revelations to come. Lurking in the shadows is the figure of Martin Bashir, who became the story himself and reaped the consequences.