We’re trained as journalists, yes?” says Naga
Munchetty. “So you don’t get why anyone
would be interested in you.” It is midday in
Manchester, and having finished her hosting
duties on BBC Breakfast (today’s agenda: overdraft scams,
French strikers, and “How environmentally friendly is
your Christmas tree?”), one of Britain’s most prominent
broadcasters is pouring us two glasses of fizz. “Our whole
joy is to find out the story, not to be the story,” she continues.
“I hate being the one questioned. I don’t think I’ve got
anything particularly interesting to say.”
Cue hollow laughter all round. Munchetty, 44, is famous
for her warmly acerbic morning manner, to say nothing of
her laser-like skills in roasting prime ministers. “The most
difficult psychological question ever,” spluttered Boris
Johnson on the campaign trail, as he struggled to answer
her deliciously open-ended puzzler: “How are you relatable?”
Yet, with more than a dozen years of experience in front
of the camera, Munchetty found herself headline news last
summer when one of her trademark off-the-cuff chats on
the BBC’s flagship morning show moved way beyond breezy.
“Breakfast is very chatty,” she says, matter-of-factly. “We
muse about things that have happened, conversations we’ve
just had.” A reasonable point. But the famous red sofa had
never seen anything quite like this.
This is the first time she has spoken about the July event,
and the difficult weeks that followed, though to many
the situation seemed pretty straightforward. In response
to an item about Donald Trump tweeting at four US
congresswomen of colour to “go back” to where they came
from, Munchetty delivered a riveting display of controlled
rage while the nation was still having its porridge. She called
it what it was – “racism” – adding that she was “absolutely
furious, and I can imagine lots of people in this country
will be feeling absolutely furious a man in that position
thinks it’s OK to skirt the lines by using language like that”.
Then things got muddy. A minority of viewers thoughtNaga had crossed the impartiality line. The BBC duly
flip-flopped through its inquiry, before director-general
Tony Hall stepped in to overturn the ruling that she had
gone too far. One thing was clear, at least – this was
Munchetty’s Network moment.
For days you were the most scrutinised person in Britain,
I marvel. “Madness, isn’t it?” she replies. “Utter madness.”
We’ve not long been together, but it is apparent Munchetty’s
top note is one of brusque efficiency. She has already rejected
most of the tables in the restaurant at The Lowry Hotel,
her 5ft 3in frame speed walking ahead of me in Jimmy
Choo boots, shouting back her small talk – “I have very
long legs for such a short torso!” – and generally giving off
the air of a person attuned to life’s ticking clock. Yet, for a
moment, her characteristic briskness falters. How did it
make you feel to be in the eye of the storm? “It was horrible,”
she says, carefully. “And horrible for the team.”
Let’s start at the beginning, which in Munchetty’s case
means 3.45am. This is when, on show days, the first of her
alarms goes off – “One of those light ones” – followed by
“five alarms on my phone at 4, 4.05, 4.10, 4.15, 4.20, 4.22,”
she reels off, then corrects herself. “Six alarms!” Luckily, she
has that spooky Thatcher-like ability to thrive on four hours
a night. “I’m not usually in bed before 11.30pm,” she says,
fully off-duty in jeans and a leopard-print poloneck. When
she drawls, “I have a very fulfilling social life,” you believe it.
As soon as she’s awake, she begins speed-reading a 50-page
briefing document on the morning’s line-up – news, how to
package it, all the statistics and talking points for interviewees- which fills the two-and-a-half-hour show. Forget Vaseline
smiles and colour-blocked outfits. Being knowledgeable on
any subject, from Brexit to Bake Off, then presenting it live
in an accessible and friendly fashion, requires nerves of steel.
Munchetty doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by it. “I’ve got
one of those brains that take in loads of information. It’s not
photographic, but it’s a very, very good memory,” she says.
(After the show, she promptly forgets it all. “Where are >
When queen of breakfast TV Naga Munchetty spoke out against Donald Trump’s racist
remarks, she didn’t expect to become the centre of a BBC crisis. Here, she tells Giles
Hattersley what happened next. Photographs by Ben Weller. Styling by Donna WallaceThe good fight03-20-Well-NagaMunchetty_1899663.indd 293 09/01/2020 12:01
293