Bill Carmichael: In defence of political bravery

Last week, intelligence sources from Afghanistan suggested the life of British hostage Linda Norgrove was in grave danger.

She'd been kidnapped by the Taliban, who would think nothing of murdering her in the most brutal way possible, and she may have been about to be handed over to even nastier Islamic fanatics in Pakistan.

The sources indicated where the aid worker was being held – but risks of a rescue mission were high and time was short.

Hague and his senior colleagues in Cabinet had to make the life-or-death decision to approve a raid by US Navy Seals.

In the event, the raid was a tragedy. One of the Americans is believed to have thrown a grenade into a room without realising Ms Norgrove was curled up on the floor in the darkness. She died from her injuries.

She was a compassionate and brave woman dedicated to improving the lives of ordinary Afghans. But no blame should be attached to the members of the Special Forces who risked their lives on her behalf, or to the politicians ultimately responsible for the decision to try to free her.

As Hague pointed out, the responsibility for her death rests squarely on the shoulders of those who kidnapped her.

And for all the criticism we dish out to politicians, it is worth noting that the job can sometimes carry a very heavy responsibility.

Beyond the armed forces, medicine and the emergency services, there are few professions where a decision you take could end in someone's death.

Politics is one of them.

Hague and Prime Minister David Cameron, who met US General David Petraeus yesterday to discuss the case, took the tough decision – and then were brave enough to take responsibility when things went wrong.

Let's hope this terrible incident will make them tougher and more resolute.

Chile cheers

THE rescue of 33 Chilean miners entombed 2,000ft below ground for 70 days, was a truly extraordinary event.

Where I work, it was virtually impossible to get anything done because of the large groups of people standing, open-mouthed, around television sets watching the incredible events unfold.

A hole in the desert became the focus of world attention as the miners returned from almost certain death in a modern-day take on the resurrection.

Part of the attraction to the watching millions was that this was a life-affirming, good news story. In place of the horror, death and destruction of 9/11 or 7/7 we had a joyous celebration of humanity.

Also remarkable was the fact that each individual miner greeted his deliverance in profoundly different ways. The hard-bitten, cynical hack in me wanted to believe that once you've seen one tearful reunion with the family, you've seen them all.

But it wasn't like that at all. One miner simply crouched down to gently kiss a weeping boy; the next was whooping it up with rescue workers; another hugged his wife as though he'd never let her go.

Perhaps most moving of all was the oldest miner, Mario Gomez, 63, who, after embracing his wife, sank to his knees in a silent prayer of thanks.

Although this was a tale of incredible engineering skill and human ingenuity, the Christian imagery was hard to ignore.

Many miners and their families commented that they felt spiritually re-born and pledged to try to live better lives and value more dearly the love of family and friends. When they looked death in the eye, that love was what mattered to them most of all.

It's a message we watching millions would do well to take into our hearts.