24 October, 2009

 

The Greatest Show on Earth

The consensus among the commenting classes seems to be that Griffin won on points. While some of the more self-obsessed among the Righteous are gloating at Griffin's dismal performance on Thursday evening's Question Time, a surprisingly large number question the BBC's tactic of turning the show into a bear pit, with the supposedly balanced audience, the other panellists and even MC Dimblebore himself ganging up on Griffin, shouting him down, interrupting, bullying and haranguing him. That egregious bullying earned Griffin maximum victim points and probably did him absolutely no harm among his target demographic.

Guys, the plebs — the disaffected White working classes and the disgruntled Daily Mail reading lower middle class — couldn't give a monkey's toss about Holocaust denial. If they think about the Ku Klux Klan at all, in its present-day incarnation at least, it is as little more than a comic turn, a quaint thing that Merkins get up to. They think Muslims are sinister, alien, ill-intentioned and unwelcome. And as far as gay men kissing in public is concerned, well yes most people do regard it as creepy. The popular attitude to homosexuality is much more accepting than it used to be, but tends to align with the views of Mrs Patrick Campbell: not in the street where it might frighten the horses.

What they do care about is their kids suffering educationally and getting racially bullied into the bargain in schools which actually celebrate the fact that their pupils speak 4,000 languages between them. About the failing economy and a preference among employers for cheap foreign labour, preferably illegal so it can more easily be intimidated and underpaid. About districts — often places where they or their parents grew up — districts which have been turned into Third World no-go areas.

The political outcome of Thursday evening's shambles remains to be seen, be it the coup de grâce for the "fash" or more votes for the BNP. Time will tell.

But I can tell you something now with absolute confidence. I am typing this post at home. When I leave the house shortly, I am still more likely to hear Yoruba on the street than English, as I walk along the local "main drag" past the Chinese convenience store, the South Asian convenience store, the several "effnick" take-aways, the drivers of all nationalities lounging outside the cab office, all will still be in place. Downtown Woolwich will still be a Third World Somali-Nigerian slum. If I take the bus down to Greenwich, I will be totally unsurprised to find myself the only White passenger on the bus. And if I go into London I will still have to deal with sales staff in major outlets who do not speak English beyond the very limited repertoire needed for a simple successful transaction: any complications and you are totally screwed.

You might succeed in destroying the BNP and its ilk, but unless you address the issues — deal with not make soothing noises about — unless you address the issues that drive people to the likes of the BNP, then either a replacement movement will arise or, failing that, a frustrated indigenous population, seeing no hope of change, will turn to disorder. In the late 1970s, Margaret Thatcher defused the threat of the National Front by adopting some of their rhetoric. But she reneged on the implied promise of action, and that has not been forgotten. The situation now is much worse, and neither the governing Labour party nor the plausible opposition have any credibility. I never used to believe the hyperbolic mutterings in the Rightish blogosphere about an impending "civil war". Now I'm not so sure.

By the way, if you missed the programme and can't be bothered watching it on iPlayer, Constantly Furious gives us an excellent summary.

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