This article is an instalment in a series, Project Harmony, on Rupert Murdoch’s secret plan threatening to blow up his family.
Rupert Murdoch doesn’t, after all, believe that he’s immortal. Raging against the dying light, the recently married emperor emeritus has made his move. His goal: to continue his reign, even after it carries the minor inconvenience of his being dead.
After so many years spent dangling the News empire succession in the manner of, well, Succession, torturing his ambitious children while refusing to die, the Sun King has broken cover and gone all in on what normal people would call the gamble of his life, but that he probably sees as just another turn of the eternal screw.
The story, broken by The New York Times overnight, is that Rupert has been in litigation with his own children since late last year, fighting to entrench his chosen proxy — Lachlan — as sole, undisputed heir.
The status quo, since Rupert’s 1999 divorce from his second wife Anna, has been a trust he established at her insistence in favour of his children: Prudence (from his first marriage), Elisabeth, Lachlan and James (with Anna), and Chloe and Grace (with third wife Wendi Deng).
All six children are equal beneficiaries of the trust, which holds the family’s shareholdings in the News empire businesses, comprising News Corp and Fox.
However, only the eldest four kids have voting rights, and that’s where the poison pill lies. Their rights are equal. This has caused more speculation over time than Prince Andrew’s sweat glands: there is no structure less stable than a four-legged stool, so how would the children’s loyalties line up when Rupert finally (finally) died?
Rupert has answered this question, at least in the sense that he clearly worries that Lachlan — his openly designated successor since he “retired” last year and put Lachlan in charge of everything — would fall victim to a coup engineered by the other three. Whether that was right or not, Rupert’s paranoia-driven actions have now rendered his prophecy true.
In proceedings in a Nevada probate court (which deals with estate disputes), Rupert is seeking to change the terms of the trust deed, removing the current four-way power split to replace it with a structure under which Lachlan will have unchallengeable control.
He is relying on a loophole in the original deed, which says that changes can be made if they are done “in good faith” and “with the sole purpose of benefiting all of” the beneficiaries.
Prudence, Elisabeth and James have combined forces (answering another question) and are opposing Rupert’s application. The first round went to him, in that the probate commissioner has ruled that his case isn’t hopeless. It will now go to a full trial, to determine the two key issues: is Rupert acting in good faith, and is the change he wants for the benefit of all six children?
One might argue that the first question has already been answered; the public record of Rupert’s conduct, since before we were all born, speaks for itself. I don’t know if one can introduce tendency evidence (evidence that shows a person has a propensity for acting in a particular way) in a Nevada probate court, but I’d be backing a very large truck up to the court’s door with the literal tonnes of proof that Rupert’s sole conception of any form of faith is his faith that what Rupert wants, Rupert gets.
His argument on the second question provides a fascinating insight into how his brain works: according to court documents, as reported by the NYT, Rupert is arguing “that he is trying to protect James, Elisabeth and Prudence by ensuring that they won’t be able to moderate Fox’s politics or disrupt its operations with constant fights over leadership”. Apparently, their “lack of consensus … would impact the strategic direction at both companies including a potential reorientation of editorial policy”. That is, they don’t know what’s best for them; but Rupert does.
Gotta stop you there, old mate. Here we were all these years thinking you were just an old-school newspaper guy, ferociously protective of the traditions of independent journalism, never dictating to your editors, apolitical, letting the stories go wherever the facts took them, respecting your readers’ desire for the unvarnished truth.
Turns out you have — in your own words — been running a political operation all along, where “strategic direction” means “in line with my beliefs”. Shock, horreur.
What is utterly fascinating about this situation, apart from the spectacle of a family whose sole shared values are power and money, playing out their tragedy to whatever grubby ending the court’s verdict decides, is Rupert’s willingness to finally drop the façade that News was ever a news business at all.
It turns out that there is something more important to Rupert than maintaining that big lie, even after it was graphically exposed by the revelations in the Dominion defamation case. He will sacrifice News’ claim to integrity, even at risk of its commercial viability, on the altar of something far more dear to him: control.
In the end, Rupert Murdoch is just another king, on a lonely throne, ruling an empire of cards, scheming, ever scheming, to keep doing so even from the grave. This litigation — against his own children — confirms the worst anyone ever said of him.
What do you make of the latest Murdoch family drama? Let us know your thoughts by writing to letters@crikey.com.au. Please include your full name to be considered for publication. We reserve the right to edit for length and clarity.
