The charge of entrapment is often levelled against him, and his tactics sit on the verge of legality. When he confronts issues that are unquestionably in the public interest – like the funding of political parties or abuse of position – his work his held in high regard, and its seedier side disregarded.”The Wessex entrapment was entirely defensible, because she was in PR and married into the Royal Family,” says Peter Cole, The Independent on Sunday’s media commentator. This “world exclusive” ended pathetically with the collapse of the trial of five men charged with planning the kidnap of the England football captain’s wife and the referral by the judge of the NoW’s role in the affair to the Attorney General. Even now, the origins of the plot and Mahmood’s part in it remain murky.Ethical questionsMahmood’s career invites discussion about journalistic ethics. “They badger their subjects with phone calls and emails until they finally give in and agree to meet them.”The ‘world exclusives’Some of Mahmood’s stories have been undeniably, if a little queasily, entertaining – who can forget Sophie Wessex, recorded during a meeting also at the Dorchester Hotel, calling Cherie Blair “horrid, horrid, horrid”, and describing William Hague as “deformed” looking? But it was his “revelation” of a plot to kidnap Victoria Beckham, in 2002, that caused many within the press to question his activities seriously. In order to facilitate his sheikh fakery, Mahmood and his cohorts spun an intricate web of deceit, setting up a number of sham companies and obtaining false ID documents Their MO is always the same, says Greenslade. His father, who died early last year, was a magistrate in the West Midlands, but had previously set up an Urdu newspaper.
Mahmood regarded him as “the father of Pakistani journalism in Britain”. Mahmood’s brother Waseem is a highly respected journalist who has founded a radio and TV station in Afghanistan.£100,000 salaryAfter a brief spell in TV, Mazher – known as Maz – resurfaced at the NoW, where he began to specialise in the exposure of minor, but juicy, incidences of criminal activity: celebrity foibles, bent coppers, small-time drug dealing, immigration rackets.The paper claims he has put 130 criminals behind bars and that credible threats have been made against his life, though some maintain this is simply the NoW’s self-serving defence against charges of entrapment.But it was the Fake Sheikh persona that sealed Mahmood’s tabloid fame – and his estimated £100,000 salary (plus vast expenses). An acquaintance, mindful of his “dead eyes, stained teeth and tubby physique”, says he usually looks like “a rather shabbily dressed estate agent”. He neither drinks nor smokes and has a deep willingness to undergo long periods – often abroad – in the service of the ever-demanding NoW.He married in Pakistan five years ago. That’s how you gain people’s trust.” Whether his colour is an asset to his work or not, he is unprepossessing in the flesh.
He left Wapping with his tail between his legs – but he wasn’t gone for long.Pakistani rootsIt is surely a damning comment on the insularity of the British media that Mahmood has always claimed his Pakistani origins deflect attention from his real job.”The only reason I’m alive,” he told Newsweek magazine in a rare interview, “is because of my colour Nobody would ever think I was a reporter. The trouble was, the kind of stories he got were often on subjects that didn’t really interest The Sunday Times, about fairly low-rent criminals and so on.”Mahmood was sacked from the newspaper in 1989 following an incident of “gross impropriety” resulting from a dispute over who was at fault for a mistake in a story. Employed as a staff reporter, he was “smooth, charming and quick-witted”, says his then boss, the media commentator Roy Greenslade. “He was very independent, and much preferred to bring in his own stories than work to the desk.
He is rarely seen in the office and writes his stories under a dramatically blacked-out silhouette rather than a picture byline.Indeed, Mahmood got his first journalistic scoop as a youngster growing up in Wolverhampton by shopping his neighbours for video piracy to the NoW and a local television station His national break was on The Sunday Times. “The real story, and the real joke,” says one acquaintance, “is how rarely his victims see him coming.” Within more junior tabloid circles he is something of a mythical, even awe-inspiring, figure. Indeed, some fellow journalists – perhaps with a hint of envy at his success – are surprised that there are still people around who “fall for the old Arab get-up routine”. Like a terrier sinking his teeth into trouser leg, Galloway will shake and shake at his prey until he tastes flesh.’Smooth and charming’So who is Mazher Mahmood? And if he has finally picked the wrong target, is it now the end of the line for the Fake Sheikh?Many think Mahmood, 43, should have packed up his jalabia long ago. Neither is he likely to give up easily this new crusade against Mahmood’s undoubtedly shady tactics, and his employer, the NoW. His appearance on Big Brother notwithstanding, the sharp-eyed Galloway is one of the most media-savvy of all MPs, and thus an unlikely victim of any tabloid sting.
The MP has now written to both the Speaker of the House of Commons and the Metropolitan Police Commissioner to inform them of this “attempt to suborn a British parliamentarian” – and to demand action, even a criminal prosecution. Both Caplin and Andrew Marr, who interviewed Mahmood for his book on journalism, My Trade, have made mention of this “giant with the golden smile”. He is pretty hard to miss.On this occasion, according to Galloway’s version of events at least, the Respect MP was not inveigled into self-humiliation, or worse, by the fakery of Mahmood. Introduced as Pervaiz Khan’s driver, Jaws wanted Galloway to pose with him for a picture. The real giveaway? Mahmood’s constant side-kick, “bodyguard” and real-life cousin, known as Jaws, an instantly recognisable giant of a man at near seven feet tall, with a bald head and a mouthful of gold teeth.
