A Paris court on Tuesday this week gave Prof. Robert Faurisson – an 87-year-old half-French, half Scot who was Professor of French Literature at the University of Lyon – a four-month suspended jail sentence and a €4,000 fine. Judgement on a further charge will be given later this week.
The circumstances of Prof. Faurisson’s trial were explained at a meeting of the London Forum in July 2016 by Lady Michèle Renouf, who was the sole defence witness alongside Prof. Faurisson at his Paris trial.
In September 2016 Prof. Faurisson was convicted under the French “racial hatred” law for the 60-word sentence translated below: the Paris court taking the extraordinary view that his reference to “the State of Israel and international Zionism” amounted to an illegal attack on Jews as a “race”.
For this “offence” Prof. Faurisson received a 4 month suspended prison sentence and a fine of €4,000. He was ordered in addition to pay €5,000 in compensation and costs to LICRA, a French association combatting “racism and anti-semitism”.
Two additional charges under the French “Gayssot Act” prohibiting “Holocaust denial”, which related specifically to Prof. Faurisson’s Tehran conference speech, were set aside.
Prof. Faurisson immediately announced his intention to appeal against this latest conviction: an appeal which is of the highest importance for historical and political researchers worldwide, and in particular for anyone campaigning against the policies of the Israeli Government. It would seem that the latest judgement opens the way for any robust criticism of Israel to be criminalised in France as anti-Jewish “racial hatred”, even if neither Jews nor Judaism have been mentioned!
Further reports and analysis of this case will appear in the next edition of Heritage and Destiny.
An earlier interview with Prof. Robert Faurisson can be seen below (including English subtitles), in which he explains the background to his famous 60-word French sentence summarising his research conclusions. Prof. Faurisson’s words (again criminalised by the Paris court this week), read in English:
“The alleged Hitlerite gas chambers and the alleged genocide of the Jews form one and the same historical lie, which has permitted a gigantic political and financial swindle whose main beneficiaries are the State of Israel and international Zionism and whose main victims are the German people – but not their leaders – and the Palestinian people in their entirety.”
Some of you may have seen the article – “Accused British Assassin Thomas Mair Attended Racists’ 2000 Meeting” on the SPLC (Southern Poverty Law Centre) website on June 19th.
The article was written by the SPLC’s top honcho Mark Potok but the story was provided by one Todd Blodgett, a former employee of the Reagan White House administration, John Whitehouse, Liberty Lobby, Resistance Records, and now it seems the FBI!
Blodgett – whom I once knew very well as my employer, friend and fellow racial-nationalist from 1998 to 2002 – has sadly sold his soul again to the SPLC: for money for a few more lines of cocaine no doubt.
Potok (who was never one to let truth get in the way of a good story) and Blodgett then came up with the tale of Thomas Mair’s supposed links to the nationalist movement in general and the National Alliance in particular, which it is claimed brought him down to London for a “racist meeting” in May 2000.
So desperate for a few more bucks to feed his habit(s), Blodgett has invented the whole story about Thomas Mair attending this racist meeting and how Todd met and talked to him there. And how I, with my vast network of racist contacts in the UK supposedly organised the whole event from my ground-floor apartment (flat) in Falls Church, Northern Virginia. A story which the SPLC bought (literally!) from him!
Now to give Blodgett some credit he did attend a meeting of some 15-20 racial nationalist activists near the Strand, in central London – but it was not organised by me and it was certainly not in May 2000. The meeting was in fact organised by Nick Griffin, then unofficial number two in the BNP to the late John Tyndall, and was held sometime during 1998.
At that time Blodgett was working for Willis Carto at Liberty Lobby, and not as he now claims for Dr. William Pierce of the National Alliance. Carto had purchased Resistance Records from Jason Snow and George Burdi/Hawthorne a year or so beforehand but later wanted to sell it on. (I guess he did not wish his Spotlight newspaper to be associated with Skinheads anymore.)
Blodgett was in fact the middle man between Willis Carto and William Pierce (who by the way hated each other, so would not deal with each other directly – so they did the deal via Todd Blodgett, who may or may not have taken a small cut for his trouble).
Griffin with the help of then Scottish BNP activist Stevie Cartwright (Blodgett got that bit right too) got together 15 to 20 of the main players in the Nationalist music scene, who were also sympathetic to Griffin and his future challenge for the BNP leadership, to meet Blodgett and hear his plans for expanding Resistance Records into Britain and the European Market.
Whether his FBI controllers were with Blodgett at the London meeting is unknown but if I were a gambling man I would say it was very, very doubtful because:
(a) I doubt very much that he was an FBI informant back in 1998 and
(b) the American Spooks did not really take that much notice or interest in us (what they would call the far-right) until after 9/11 – and after 9/11 of course it all went rather mental!
Anyway, back to the London meeting in the Strand in 1998 (not 2000). One thing is clear after 18 years: Thomas Mair was not at that meeting, he had not been invited, and in fact nobody had ever heard of him! The meeting was for the top / key players in the scene – Mair was not even IN the scene!
Blodgett made up the story that Mair was there and fed (sold) it to the SPLC, who in turn passed it on to news agencies around the world – including our very own BBC – who have now called me twice to find out more about this Thomas Mair chap.
Amongst his fairy tales Blodgett claims that Mair was “loosely affiliated with the Leeds chapter of the National Alliance”. The NA never had a Leeds Chapter – in fact they never even had a UK chapter, though a now deceased individual in the Leeds area ran a mail order book service with NA connections. Around that time – 1998-2000 – the NA may have had 20 to 30 members in the whole of the UK, and that’s tops. They were not organised as chapters and in most cases did not even know each other.
My guess is (and I must stress this is only a guess) is that Mair knew somebody in the Batley area (maybe an NF or BNP member) who got him some flyers and/or catalogues from the NA. This person may have got these at a local NF/BNP meeting, where fringe literature from the USA was often (unofficially) passed around.
Potok goes on in his article about Mair subscribing to a “pro-apartheid South African publication”. The magazine that Mair did in fact subscribe to was South African Patriot In Exile (SAPIE) – published by one Alan Harvey, from his mother’s house in Herne Bay on the Kent coast – many, many miles away from South Africa.
Mair, in a letter he sent to SAPIE which was published in issue #31 in 1992, claimed he first got hold of their magazine via the NF. He did not say whether he wrote off to the NF and bought it from them (they did sell South African Patriot [the forerunner to SAPIE] at the time) or if he bought it at a local NF meeting in Yorkshire. Mair had a further letter published by SAPIE in issue #35 in 1995.
Strangely Potok does not mention that SAPIE was very pro-Zionist and very anti-Nazi (and still is as far as I’m aware) or that its editor Alan Harvey describes himself as “101% pro-Israel”. I guess that would not tie in well with his claims that Mair was a “neo-Nazi”.
Further on in the article Blodgett claims that Richard Barnbrook was at this “secret meeting” supposedly held in May 2000. Barnbrook first appeared on the Nationalist scene in the summer of 2000 where he was the official cameraman at the BNP’s inaugural Red, White and Blue Festival near Oswestry. Barnbrook later came to fame when he became the first (and only) BNP member to be elected to the Greater London Assembly in 2008. As I pointed out earlier the London meeting was in fact held in 1998, and Barnbrook was not there. I doubt he was even a member of the BNP then.
Potok goes on in the next paragraph to say that I was “later deported (from the USA) for his activities”. Well as anybody with half a brain cell can find out by going online, I have never been deported from the USA – or any other country for that matter. But as I said earlier, Potok was never one to let the truth get in the way of a good story.
Just for the record I was handed a 10-year exclusion order from an immigration judge in Arlington County, Virginia in September 2002. The judge gave me three months to vacate the USA, as I had my home, job and wife there, so we needed plenty of time to sort things out. I vacated the USA with my wife Jenny at the start of November 2002 and have never returned since.
Ok, back to the “secret meeting”. Potok claims that Dr. William Pierce (leader of the NA) “had recently bought Resistance Records”. This is another lie: at the time of the meeting RR was still owned by Willis Carto.
Potok further states that he (Pierce) “would soon be releasing an electronic game to be called Ethnic Cleansing.” Another whopper of a lie here. That game was released in 2002, four years after that “secret meeting”. So ask yourself who could or would have been “giddy” (as Blodgett and Potok claim) about an electronic game that had not even been invented yet and was still four years from release?
After having spoken to Stevie Cartwright at some length about the “secret meeting” in London’s Strand back in 1998 (his memories of the era are a lot clearer than mine, well I am 55 going on 56 now!) he can categorically state that Blodgett knew no one personally at all who was invited to that meeting, either by name or by description. That being so he would not have known whether Thomas Mair had been there or not, which of course he wasn’t anyway.
Another fact exposing the lie that this meeting was held in 2000 was the fact that when Stevie Cartwright came to the USA in March 1999 to do a series of speeches and “house meetings” he also did some work in Todd Blodgett’s temporary Resistance Records office in the Woodley Park area of Washington DC. Stevie was renewing his acquaintance with Todd whom he had met before at that London meeting. So how on earth could that meeting have been in 2000? A complete nonsense!
If the truth be known, and that’s REAL truth – not some Cock and Bull Story made up by Potok and Blodgett – it might well be that Thomas Mair did have an interest in racial-nationalism, and that’s why he bought papers, magazines and books from a whole host of what the BBC would describe as “Far-Right” groups – including the National Alliance, South African Patriot and the National Front.
However, that does not make Mair a right-wing/nationalist/neo-Nazi (or whatever you want to call it) activist. Far from it, Mair was what some in our movement used to call an “arm-chair nationalist”, but now would more likely be called a “keyboard warrior”, i.e. he was the opposite of an activist – a non-activist in fact. He did nothing at all for the nationalist cause or movement in the past 15 to 20 years.
And the first time we hear of him is when he is accused of murdering the Labour MP Jo Cox on Thursday 16th June 2016.
As Todd Blodgett has chosen to put himself at the centre of this ridiculous conspiracy, either for monetary gain or as a favour to his handlers, then surely any prosecuting lawyer worth his salt would call Blodgett as a witness to the character and alleged “prejudices” of Tommy Mair. However, once the details are looked into and examined at length it would be blatantly clear that this was simply a fiction from the fevered mind of a criminal liar, fantasist and traitor who has been egged on by his bosom buddies in the SPLC hate group.
Now as anybody in the movement who knows me can tell you, I’m not one for conspiracy theories and never have been: but something is just not right here. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I – or somebody better than me – will. The real truth about Thomas Mair will come out. So Mark Potok – watch this space!
Mark Cotterill, editor, Heritage and Destiny
PS: In a few days time Heritage and Destiny will publish a further exposé of the SPLC/FBI hired liar and crook Todd Blodgett.
The long-suppressed truth about assaults against European women by immigrant rapists finally broke through the media blackout in recent weeks, following what appeared to be a planned series of rapes in Germany carried out by “asylum seekers”.
In one of the most horrific incidents, a 22-year-old aid worker was stabbed to death in Sweden last week by a 15-year-old immigrant.
Several European countries have seen vigilante groups of local whites growing during the last few months: one of the largest is in Finland, where “Sons of Odin” are mobilising nationwide to defend Finnish women.
In the southern Finnish city of Tampere, for example, 4,000 asylum seekers have arrived during the last six months, and there have been dozens of reported attacks by these newcomers against local women,
“Soldiers of Odin” have a Facebook page here.
Cabinet Office minister Oliver Letwin – regarded as one of the main intellectual influences on the modern Conservative Party – is at the centre of a storm over “racist” comments he made in the mid-1980s.
Letwin’s remarks will be published tomorrow by the UK’s National Archives, as part of the annual release for documents from 30 years ago. They form part of a discussion at the highest levels of Margaret Thatcher’s government, following riots in October 1985 on the Broadwater Farm estate in North London, where Police Constable Keith Blakelock was butchered by a mob of machete-wielding black thugs.
While many of his fellow Tories urged liberal responses – i.e. throwing money at black ghettos – Letwin and his colleague Hartley Booth advised Mrs Thatcher:
“The root of social malaise is not poor housing, youth ‘alienation’ or the lack of a middle class. Lower-class unemployed white people lived for years in appalling slums without a breakdown of public order on anything like the present scale.
“Riots, criminality and social disintegration are caused solely by individual characters and attitudes. So long as bad moral attitudes remain, all efforts to improve inner cities will founder.”
They mocked suggestions that government money should fund young black entrepreneurs:
“New entrepreneurs will set up in the disco and drug trade; refurbished council blocks will decay through vandalism and neglect; and people will graduate from employment programmes into unemployment or crime.”
Booth (who eventually succeeded Thatcher as MP for Finchley from 1992 to 1997) added that the proposal to spend £10m on a “communities programme” in the riot-hit area would merely “subsidise Rastafarian arts and crafts workshops”. He warned in a later memo that there had been reports of Broadwater Farm residents acquiring petrol bombs and napalm.
These comments by Letwin and Booth are not officially published until tomorrow, but an error by online journalists who had been given an advance briefing (on condition they did not report the contents until tomorrow) has meant the story broke early. Predicatably leftwingers have expressed outrage. Labour Party spokesman John Ashworth demanded a retraction:
“These offensive remarks are very concerning, particularly given his very senior position in the current Government as David Cameron’s policy supremo.
“I’m sure Mr Letwin will want to clarify these remarks and apologise as soon as possible.”
Sadly we expect Letwin will be forced to grovel: no one in the mainstream media will dare to reflect on whether his words might have been true.
German lawyer Sylvia Stolz has been given a 20 month prison sentence for comments she made during a speech at a conference in Switzerland. She has already served more than three years in prison from 2008 to 2011 for her defence of client Ernst Zündel.
Several European countries have laws that ban any questioning of the history of the ‘Holocaust’, turning the alleged murder of six million Jews in homicidal gas chambers during the Second World War into a form of religious ‘truth’ that cannot be challenged.
Normal historical analysis and debate is thus condemned as a form of blasphemy, and punished by long prison sentences. For example Horst Mahler, another German lawyer who dared to challenge established historical legends, has been imprisoned since 2009.
Sylvia Stolz’s latest ‘crime’ was committed at the Anti-Censorship Coalition Conference in Switzerland in November 2012. A video of this ‘criminal’ speech, with English subtitles, can be viewed below:
While sentencing Frau Stolz to prison, the judge in her latest case indicated that he fully expects her to appeal, and she will not begin her sentence until the appeal process has ended.
In fact it is likely that the German authorities have created a serious embarrassment for themselves, by prosecuting Frau Stolz for pointing out facts that were actually accepted by German courts themselves when sentencing former Auschwitz guards at trials during the 1960s. During those cases the German courts themselves admitted the absence of evidence regarding the locations of the alleged crimes of the ‘Holocaust’; the lack of any judicial findings regarding corpses or traces of the murders concerned; the lack of judicial assessment of witness statements, or of the documents or other evidence; and the lack of any documentary proof establishing the National Socialists’ intention to destroy the Jewish people in part or in whole (i.e. to commit genocide).
Yet to make these very same observations – even in the very same terms as used by the German courts themselves during the 1960s – is now a criminal act in 21st century Germany.
Though here in the UK we have not yet descended into such a Kafkaesque nightmare of bizarre criminal trials, there are attempts to extend our own notorious ‘race laws’ to encompass the criminalisation of ‘Holocaust denial’. Moreover the British authorities have signed up to the Stockholm International Conference on the teaching of the ‘Holocaust’, which instructed schools as follows:
“Care must be taken not to give a platform for deniers – do not treat the denial of the Holocaust as a legitimate historical argument, or seek to disprove the deniers’ position through normal historical debate and rational argument.”
On Saturday 24th May two memorial walks took place for Lee Rigby, a British Army soldier of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers, who a year ago was attacked and killed by two African Muslims in a south London street.
This was a racial attack – as well as a political and religious attack – make no bones about it. Lee was killed pure and simply for being a White British squadie.
While others may forget very quickly, British Loyalists and English Patriots don’t and two memorial walks – one in the centre of Manchester – near to where Lee was born and lived – and the other in Woolwich south London – where Lee was stationed and sadly killed.
H&D editor Mark Cotterill attended the Manchester walk, which was led by the Bolton Caledonian Pipe band. Mark and 300 other Patriots from many different groups including, BNP, UKIP, BM, NWI, EDL, CXF EDL and EBF gathered in Piccadilly Gardens – right in the heart city centre – and marched through the busy shopping centre to the cenotaph near Manchester Cathedral. At the cenotaph a short service was held, poems read and flowers were laid in Lee’s memory. A minutes silence was held, not just for Lee, but for all British soldiers, who have lost their lives in service to their country. Special mention was made of those brave lads who fought in World War I as we are approaching the 100th anniversary of The Great War.
Even though the rain poured down all day, in typical Manchester fashion, and most got drenched (including H&D’s editor!) spirits were high amongst the 300 Patriots – including many women and children, and we would not have wished to be anywhere else that day, but in Manchester – remembering Lee Rigby, one of our own – a Lancashire Lad from Middleton, a true Son of St. George.
At the same time, down in Woolwich, South London, over 1,500 Patriots marched behind the Pride of the Somme Flute band from Liverpool through the streets of our capital city and close to the spot where Lee was attacked and killed by African Muslims.
Thankfully our comrades in London had better weather than we did in the north, and also had a much better turnout. It was great to see Patriots from many different groups and parties putting aside petty differences for one day, and joining as one, in Lee’s memory. It was also good to see many football lads from Chelsea, Millwall, Tottenham, Arsenal and Charlton, coming together and marching united as Englishmen.
In the case of Manchester, if the commies had turned up, they may have got their first decent wash of the year!And in London the sight of over 200 Chelsea and Millwall lads at London Bridge station, making their way to the walk’s formation point at Woolwich, had the anarchists almost falling over themselves to get back on the trains to their parents’ houses in Hampstead and Kensington!
* – Last Thursday, 22nd May, the anniversary of the murder of Drummer Lee Rigby in Woolwich, Tess Culnane and Richard Edmunds made a short film in tribute to the slain soldier. Here it is :
25 January 2013. My probation officer’s hastily-arranged visit had ended just a few minutes previously, he ostensibly unaware of what was about to go down. I was in the hallway experimenting with how many boxes of TOA sheets could be loaded onto my sack trolley when about four policemen started pushing the door, which had been slightly ajar. Instinctively I tried to push it back but they pushed harder. One said “Don’t worry we’re the police.” A few moments later one of the officers confronted me, the one I was shortly to dub ‘PC Believer,’ and asked me if I was Steven W., my former co-defendant. It was his idea of a joke. When that was got out of the way I was arrested “under Section 19 of the Public Order Act 1986 on suspicion of distributing material intending to stir up religious hatred” an offence which, unless I’m very much mistaken, doesn’t exist. Asked if I understood why I was being arrested, I said “No.”
More officers shortly arrived and began donning rubber gloves to start going through my computers and possessions. PC Believer asked me, now in handcuffs, and having great difficulty coming to terms with the situation, if I was on drugs. I was in shock. They tried to arrange my coat over my hands so the handcuffs wouldn’t be visible during the walk to the police van: “I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of” I said. After being loaded into the back I was driven to York.
Discussions at York
In an anteroom for people waiting for the custody desk was a swarthy, Eastern European gypsy woman who spoke no English. I shortly learned she’d been arrested for purse-dipping (pick-pocketing). Mindful of my caution (“Anything you say may be taken down…”) I chose my words carefully, and mentioned to PC Believer that the presence of both her and me was an interesting juxtaposition, pointing out that while I was in handcuffs she was not. He responded with some rubbish which made it evident that he was a committed adherent to political correctness. I remembered him telling the newly-arrived officers – three I think – who were about to embark on a search of my flat to “knock yourselves out.” Clearly me and PC Believer were not to be the best of buddies.
He told me that handcuffs were at the discretion of the arresting officer – him. I said that as a police officer he had a vested interest in believing that his job furthered a functional society, mentioning cognitive dissonance, but that my conclusion was that the police role nowadays is to foster a dysfunctional one. I’d recently come to the conclusion that by the enforcement of political correctness, practically everywhere the police go they make things worse.
The constables in the room, now about four, waiting with their charges, reverted to chatting among themselves. It was a long wait for the custody desk. PC Believer was evidently a keen gardener and picking up on the discussion about fertiliser, to pass the time, I related how while hitchhiking I had once been given a lift by a pair of “sheep-shit rustlers.” They had found the theme hilarious and had picked me up to share the joke. The contraband, if such it was, was in the boot of the car. The second arresting officer, who was more amiable, moved to sit opposite me and take up the conversation. He pointed out that the “sheep-shit rustlers” had probably committed no crime. There was a digression into coronial law, that apparently while a body is with a coroner it is his property. I replied that politicians have been creating so many laws to justify their existence that there is always some law which can be quoted as being broken. While living in Market Weighton I learned of a story, which I told the assembly, of a farmer who’s practice had been to drive his horse and cart to a pub a couple of miles away. There he would drink a skinful and invariably pass out. When he did his drinking friends would, by long-standing habit, carry him out to the cart and load him into the back. Then one would give the horse a healthy slap on the backside and it, well used to this routine, would walk the farmer home through the deserted country lanes. This continued for several years until “one of you lot” laid in wait for him one night and had him for being drunk in charge of a vehicle.
At this PC Believer objected to the categorisation and implicit tainting of himself which had been implied by the term “one of you lot.” I replied that it is well-established that humans sort into categories, and in any case he was wearing a uniform. “I don’t want to talk to you any more” he said. “That generally means that you’ve lost the argument” I replied. Apparently there was a serious proposal in rural Ireland recently (County Kerry to be exact) to issue licences or permits to allow driving over the limit. The argument was that the traditional Irish culture of drinking, music and story-telling was under threat. One of the officers made a remark about the damage that ensues when a family is wiped out by a drink-driver, but in this case we are talking about a short journey along rural roads at perhaps 30mph with probably the biggest danger posed by the driver being to himself.
More than an hour later at the custody desk my handcuffs were finally removed. The sergeant behind it looked around 17 (he later told me he was 30) and after that I was shown to a cell. An hour or two passed and then I was pulled out to be interviewed by two detectives. I was asked if I wanted a lawyer present: I declined, knowing that one wouldn’t be much help in this case and that everyone would have to sit around for several hours while he arrived. The interview was recorded on DVD disc – this was new, I was told it could record video if necessary. The lengthy interview consisted of questions about the Spree Killers article I’d written (and by this time had published) in Heritage & Destiny. I had learnt already that my supposed offence was connected to the local library, and my growing suspicion was confirmed that it was this article. Someone had kindly made me some copies for free, and I had given the last one to the only male employee at my local library. He, apparently, had referred it to his female superior and both she and he had made statements for the police. However absurd it seemed, the police were treating it as a potential criminal offence!
The interview was exceptional in consisting chiefly of an elaboration of evolutionary psychology and the concepts and mechanisms detailed in the Spree Killers article. It was very exhausting, because the article had truly been at the forefront of knowledge. Some additional background was added however. David Buss pointed out in one of his books that the very fact that we are here, each individual one of us, is proof of an unbroken lineage: every one of our ancestors, going back countless generations, must have successfully found a mate or else we wouldn’t be here. By the same measure, the fact that we have white skin is proof that men have fought to preserve that difference. At some time the mutation would have occurred, and if the distinct population had not defended itself it would have been wiped out or assimilated by a darker one.
Also discussed was the wide variation in genes and language in African and New Guinea tribes, and the ability of the former to identify members of their respective tribes, even though they all look similar to us. In New Guinea there are reported to be over 400 languages, even tribes living a couple of miles apart speak different languages. One account relates how two neighbouring tribes had a minor dispute, so one decided to play a trick on the other. On a certain day they exchanged their word for ‘yes’ to mean ‘no’, and the word for ‘no’ to mean ‘yes.’ Trade with their neighbours was certainly interesting for a while.
The mass suicide cult
The two officers went through the article, questioning me on various points, until we came to the part at the end about the government’s “suicidal immigration policies.” It took me a few moments to think of an example, because there are so many, but then I realised I had it from the Government’s own mouth. No less than the Chief Medical Officer had stated just a week or so previously that antibiotic resistance should be treated as a critical threat, on a par with terrorism or nuclear attack. The warning was that we could all be wiped out by a common bacterium which had acquired antibiotic resistance. What was left unstated was that the major source of antibiotic resistance, particularly tuberculosis, is India and Pakistan. There, incorrectly-stored antibiotics are sold from market stalls like Smarties. Asian schoolchildren visiting relatives, for example, bring the resistant bacteria back to Britain.
The most notable feature of the interview however was the testimonial I received at the end. One of the officers said I had “a great mind” and other things which were plainly intended to send a message to the CPS (Crown Prosecution Service) to back off. This is certainly not the first time I have received sympathetic treatment from police officers – one even apologised on behalf of the State for the actions it was taking against me – but this was actually on record, obviously being spoken for the benefit of that DVD recorder. Definitely a novelty. With these and other officers I had by this time discussed episodic memory (similar to snapshot memory), neurotic transfer (spurious false confessions) and the Stockholm syndrome.
A couple of hours later I was called out of my cell again and stood before the custody desk. The teenage-looking custody sergeant told me I was being given bail until March. Then I waited in a glass-walled booth for a few minutes, and was beginning to think that, against all the odds, I might actually be going home. Shortly however I was re-arrested for recall to prison. The form stated as official reason “poor behaviour.”
Police cells until Monday
Rather like the early days in the tank at California, in the bowels of a skyscraper in Los Angeles, it takes time for the shock and sense of unreality to fade. It seemed as if I would only get a few minutes’ sleep before the constant noise of the fan, or the ever-present light, would cause me to wake with a jolt, when I would realise all over again that I was back in a cell. According to the normal routine I should be shipped to the nearest reception prison, Hull, midday on Saturday. However heavy snow put paid to that, and I was told I would be held in York until Monday. At least I was given paper, a pencil and some books to read, but it would be better in a proper jail where I could make my own tea and have a smoke. That is invaluable when you’re under stress.
On Sunday however the cell door opened and I was told I was being moved to Harrogate as they were running out of cells. The officer told me it was 3 o’clock, and so disoriented was I that I assumed it was 3pm. It was actually 3am. This, a new facility, was even worse than York. I only had inferior horror books to read – as if I’d want to read those in a situation like this.
Back to jail
I ended up on the induction wing in Hull. First in a cell with a flap on the cell door and then I was moved to one without. I seemed to be constantly being asked if I wanted methadone. The first time a female officer opened the flap and posed this question I laughed, but after that it ceased to be funny. One time I woke up thinking I had fallen asleep inside a swimming baths, the acoustics around the wing being quite similar. Jail was just like before and I settled down to reading a book a day and watching the TV, which had had its settings disturbed and only had about three channels, at night. I normally don’t have a TV at all but you can’t read all the time: after a while your eyes start automatically scanning the lines without taking anything in. Fortunately one of the stations was a film channel. Most importantly, I was on my own and this compensated for a lot of things. Another novelty I saw immediately was that the expiry date on the long-life milk cartons we were given every evening was later than my release date. My licence expired on 16 April and they couldn’t hold me after that. In jail you notice these things.
I took part in a few cosy cell-huddles during association. One time the conversation turned to criminal (probably drug) matters and someone said “He looks well dodgy, he does,” meaning me. “I don’t want to know” I said and beat a hasty retreat. Later I caught up with the speaker leaning against some railings and joked with him “The accusation of dodginess is a compliment, coming from you!” because he was indeed dodgy. Another time there was someone I was told felt stress in any social interaction. This was one of those times when I put my psychologist’s hat on. I said it was not my area but thought that social empathy as a sort of ‘brain muscle’ which usually operates automatically and unconsciously.
This ‘brain muscle’ becomes evident when one is sick or dealing with people with mental illness. A patient in a hospital becomes rapidly exhausted by visitors, for example. Our natural tendency when transacting with another individual is to reach some midway point, to achieve some reference for further understanding. This capacity for social empathy must confer considerable survival advantage because its energy allocation has a high priority, so that in normal everyday life we hardly notice it. Only when someone is sick does that energy drain become noticeable. When talking to someone who is psychotic, one must curb the natural tendency to reach a midway point otherwise one is drawn to share the other’s psychosis. This is why attendants at mental institutions can mock and mistreat patients: they are broadening the gap between ‘us’ and ‘them’ to protect their own mental health. Reportedly mental health workers have a tendency to go senile early. Mental illness can be contagious.
So in this individual the part(s) of the brain which I call the ‘brain muscle’ may have been weak or dysfunctional, much as I have difficulty recognising faces (prosopagnosia). Then I launched into some procedural analysis, saying that the natural domain for the male is things, taking apart car engines and so forth, while the natural domain of the female is relationships. All relational activity is really sex for the female. We were interrupted before I got any further.
I’ve had various prison names: “the Professor,” “Jackanory” (because I told stories) and “Reader.” As far as stories went, their favourite seemed to be the one about the origin of the term “rule of thumb.” I would tell about the judge (it was reputedly Sir Francis Buller) who, from the bench, ruled that it was lawful for a man to beat his wife providing the stick was no wider than his thumb. This was in the days of coverture, when a husband was responsible for all the debts, and even criminal acts, of his wife.
Sociopathy and psychopathy
I think one thing of significance was learnt during this brief (5½ weeks) jail stint. In my own mind at least I have established models of the sociopath and the psychopath. A clear distinction between the two has never been obvious, according to the definitions I have seen. According to the Oxford Dictionary of Psychology, psychopathy features “superficial charm, pathological lying, egocentricity, lack of remorse and callousness.” I have met and become aware of several psychopaths, both inside and outside prison.
Probably the most dangerous type is the psychopathic politician, representative examples being Tony Blair and Nick Griffin just for starters. Because of their influence, having clear definitions is important.
My conclusion is that the sociopath exhibits superficial charm, pathological lying, lack of remorse and callousness but lacks egocentricity. All the psychopaths I have met have had a compulsion to “get one over” the other person, to always come out on top. The psychopath always has to come out better, to prevail in whatever the particular contest is. This also works in business, where the psychopathic businessman always has to feel that he has come out ahead (I think I met one such once; he was also exceptionally promiscuous). Psychopathic politicians generally use legal means, but the criminal psychopath will exploit the advantages and weigh the risks of using illegal ones.
The individual I recently shared a cell with exhibited superficial charm, pathological lying, lack of remorse and callousness but without any sign of that ruthless compulsion to prevail. The ego seemed normal or near-normal. Moreover his ploys were crudely executed, making the manipulations obvious. He was compared to a true psychopath with whom I had shared a cell in Leeds prison: that individual had lain awake at night plotting how to trick me out of more tobacco. I don’t remember him ever actually asking me for a smoke, that would have been tantamount to surrender. His manipulative ability was exceptional: it’s likely that he had manipulated the staff into putting me into his cell, solely because I had tobacco.
A sportsman has a strong will to win, and strives to do so, but he is not a psychopath. Here is an important distinction, because real, physical activity is involved: it might be running, swimming or throwing. The athlete’s own physical limitations are of account. The psychopath has only moral and legal constraints (the former being more fluid). His activities are cerebral: he is devoid of conscience and limited only by his ability to manipulate others and plot a path for himself.
The prisoner with whom I talked about ‘brain muscles’ evidently had a social disorder, but I don’t think it could be deemed sociopathic. Most of the time during association periods I leant against a radiator and read. I would try and read a part of some educational book (psychology or science) then after I’d done my daily quota, pick up a novel again.
Move to Northallerton
After 13 days at Hull I was moved. Northallerton is a small but old prison which had formerly been a Young Offenders Institution. There were two wings, a large one for Category C prisoners and a smaller one for Category D. I had been Category D at Wolds and while at Hull I had received paperwork again stating that I was Category D (which qualifies you for an open prison). Inexplicably however on my move to Northallerton I became Category C, so was located on the larger wing. I saw the Cat. D wing several times during trips to and from the prison library, and the regime there was that the cell doors were open all day, but it wasn’t as if there was anywhere to go. It was only about seven cells long and was reminiscent of a Lilliputian tower block. I found it rather claustrophobic. They made a big thing of the fact that there was a carpet on the floor.
One character I was re-acquainted with from a couple of years before had a persistent compulsion to shave his body. I doubt if anywhere was spared. I had shared with him briefly at Wolds prison but now he had a cell to himself, which was a good thing. I used to be woken at five in the morning to the sound of him scratching with a razor. I told him about the neurotic paradox, which is that regardless of how illogical or detrimental an individual knows his behaviour to be, he cannot stop himself doing it. Nowadays the fashionable term is OCD, but formerly these maladaptive behaviours were classed under the general heading of neuroses.
At Northallerton I finally managed to get hold of some toothpaste, but then came a disappointment. After mercifully spending three years inside without toothache it now struck with a vengeance. Having toothache inside and being dependent on the prison dentist is no joke. Prisoners’ teeth are often extremely poor, due to all the drugs. However the nurses’ station did me proud and soon I had clove oil and painkillers. A week or so later the dentist herself was much less impressive and I elected to struggle on with the clove oil. Both prisons gave me immunisations; at Northallerton there had been a recent measles outbreak. At Hull during one of the induction talks a man revealed incidentally that antibiotic resistant gonorrhoea was now at large in Britain – it could be controlled but not cured. This valuable warning was not delivered by a medic though, I don’t think I was aware of a single male medical worker in either of the prisons. Northallerton was more feminine than Hull, with pairs of female officers sitting together to gossip while keeping an eye on the prisoners.
Shortly after arriving at Northallerton an Imam walked into my cell, dressed in full gown and garb, asking about religious matters. He started acting on behalf of the Christian chaplaincy by inviting me to Christian services. This is the second time this has happened, a Muslim acting for the CofE in prison, there’s been some kind of directive about it. It’s also practically impossible in British jails not to eat Halal food. I got rid of him as quickly as I could and engaged the chaplain later. One had already got an earful about Holocaustianity being a post-Christian quasi-religion, and quoted Chesterton, that when people stop believing in God they don’t believe in nothing, they believe in anything. In Holocaustianity we have Auschwitz as Calvary, Hitler as the Devil and the Jews as completely innocent, sacrificial lambs. Us “racists” and “Holocaust deniers” are cast as the angels of Satan, seeking to disrupt the coming multiracial utopia. I think this end-times scenario is called a secular eschatology.
One man told me his situation “on the out” had been so grim that he deliberately set about having himself sent to prison. A catalogue of woe followed, the details of which I cannot give here since they would identify him and I was sworn to secrecy. Another set of people seemed incapable of managing money, short and in debt in whatever situation they find themselves, apparently never having been other than dependent on the State. Of course the prison currency is tobacco. The trick to getting by in prison is to see the best in people, and the truly bad individuals are a definite minority, certainly in the jails I have been in. There were a couple of ex-policemen in this jail, in for smuggling tobacco, and I had regular chats with one of them. I asked him if he would lose his pension but he said no, he’d paid into it for years so it couldn’t be taken away. An oft-made pronouncement of mine was “If our country was governed properly, 80% of these people wouldn’t be here.”
One time I was standing in the queue for food and immediately in front of me a couple of prisoners were mock-fighting. One of the dummy swings came uncomfortably close, I backed away and some remark was made about my retreat. “I’m a writer not a fighter” I said. The prison authorities were very good about forwarding mail, and the other prisoners were in awe of the messages of support I received. Some were plainly jealous of the money I was sent. I told them you have to be a political prisoner to get such treatment.
A heretic inside
Word soon got around among the prison officers and inmates that I was a “Holocaust disbeliever” and this led to some interesting debates. The prison environment lends itself to some obvious parallels and my argument ran as follows: “Imagine this is the 1940s, and we are losing a war against Russia. The Russians are invading from the north, and all the prisons up there are being evacuated southward. This wing, designed for 300, is packed with 1,500 people, six to a cell instead of two, with people sleeping on the floors in addition. Moreover, the people coming in from the north are carrying fleas, which carry typhus. The Russians have control of the air. Attempts to bring food or medicine to the prison are frustrated, because any train or lorry is being shot to pieces by aircraft. That is what happened in the closing days of the war with Germany.”
I have deliberately mixed the order and location of some of these exchanges to save possible embarrassment. One officer got a bit heated about the topic. “You can stick your beliefs up your arse! Three-and-a-half million people died!” he said angrily. I’m not normally very quick verbally, and usually only think of a suitable reply half an hour too late, but on this occasion I immediately retorted “It was six million last week!”
Many times I came up against a stock argument: “My grandfather was at Dachau/Belsen/wherever.” Then I had to patiently explain, for the umpteenth time, that even in the orthodox version of events there were no mass exterminations at the camps on German territory. It was all supposed to have happened in the East, chiefly at Auschwitz. I sometimes told of the time I visited Dachau years ago, when I was still a believer. I had sensed that something was wrong. It had been brewing even before I saw the notice tucked away in a corner, along the lines of “This shower room was never used for extermination but was constructed after the war for demonstration purposes.”
I noticed that a certain washroom-toilet always had at least one prison officer stationed outside. This apparently was for the sole purpose of stopping inmates having a sly smoke inside. When I realised what was going on I dubbed them “smoking guards” and told one that “the present regime makes the Nazis look like kindergarten teachers.” A couple of days later I was passing off the wing, and had to give my name for the movement record. “Sheppard” I said, “political prisoner.” “Jawohl” replied the officer and I walked off chuckling.
One of the prison libraries had a display about Holocaust Memorial Day. This prompted me to tell all within hearing that when the German administration at Auschwitz learned that the Russians were advancing, they offered the inmates the choice of staying and waiting for the Russian “liberators” or marching with them several hundred miles to another camp. Almost the entire camp chose to flee with the Germans and march. One of the few that didn’t was Otto Frank, because he was in the camp hospital recovering from typhus.
On my birthday, 19th February, only a couple of days after I got access to a computer, my ‘Appeal against Recall’ was faxed off. The paperwork said there were “complaints to the Police by members of the public that he had distributed written material glorifying spree killers.” I had given one copy to one male librarian, and the article had even been shown to Probation beforehand. My appeal said that on the basis of the information I had been given, I had not breached my licence conditions at all. I tried to contact my former lawyer to assist but learned later that his firm didn’t have the necessary contract. Apparently firms need special Legal Aid contracts for matters of prison law and actions against the police. So I did the right thing going ahead with it myself.
What passes for work
In the mornings I was enrolled on a pointless computer course. I was able to skip most of the word-processing (not much to learn there, I’ve been doing it for decades) but reached new heights with Powerpoint. How can anyone ever manage without it? Scores of pointless print-outs had to be made, while at the same time the content witters on about recycling and reducing waste. The atmosphere there was okay however, and I was able to sketch some notes for a future article. There were some lively discussions as well; one young man said he believed in equal opportunities and I said that it was never about equality, only superiority. I quoted the survey I did in Hull in 1997, where 80% of the unemployed were male but 69% of the people working in the unemployment benefit offices were female. Then look here I said, with a huge proportion of probation officers and other administrators being female. “Do you think then that women shouldn’t work?” I was asked. “Not while there are men on the dole” I said and continued, “Women are crooks who steal men’s jobs.” “You can’t say that!” someone said. “I just did” I replied, to howls of laughter.
It was notable how the presence of even a single member of one of the “protected groups” stifled free discussion. I was sitting beside a Pakistani one day and said to him, “Do you know that the Nazis had a Muslim division?” Of course he didn’t.
The worst part of prison is having a psychopath for a cell-mate, or sharing a cell with someone otherwise severely dysfunctional (into this category I include the large number of TV addicts, whose first action on waking is to turn it on). Fortunately I only had to endure this for a week or so. Hence the worst part, which I came to dread, was the work detail I had in the afternoons. This was billed as “Business Administration” but its primary purpose seemed to be keeping Manchester College in funds. Daily committee meetings, with minutes taken, pathetic “theory” exercises on how and why to give a presentation, mind-numbing minutae concerning health and safety and how to use a computer. The whole atmosphere stifled any initiative and ability. The obvious observation was that if this was how business at large was run it was no wonder the country was bankrupt.
A trickle of real work came though the door, but the important thing seemed to be completing the Manchester College forms. It had all the characteristics of a New Labour box-ticking scam. Prison when all is said and done is just a microcosm of wider society, although with added restrictions and exaggerations of policy. This afternoon work session came to epitomise the mediocrity of society at large. That is, a society replete with institutional incompetence, steered by people of doubtful ability, only a willingness to toe the party line. Some organisations go along with the dogma, having to adhere to the letter of the law, and of course there will be rationalisation (reducing cognitive dissonance, in orthodox terminology). The most insufferable however are those who wholeheartedly embrace this rubbish, and for whom box-ticking is a way of life.
One time there was a discussion about bullying, a poster was being produced about it and everyone was invited to sit around the table and contribute. I piped up from the far corner, “What about bullying by the state of people who refuse to go along with their dogma?” “We’re not talking about that” was the answer. A few days later my frustration boiled over to an argument with the supervisor, at one point drawing a cheer from the other prisoners. “This is all to keep people like you in fancy salaries” I said. “I wish” was her response. “Well it’s a lot more than I get” I said. The plain fact was that here we had large numbers of men working on these vapid courses, no doubt designed and marked by women, while the prison population is 94% male. We were paid about £1 per day for our contribution, and a large proportion of inmates are in prison due to being unemployed and having nothing to do except take drugs and commit crime.
The last day
It all happened on 5th March. In the morning I met a police officer who told me there would be “no further action” in respect of the Spree Killers article. This was a relief, although it might have been interesting to see how it played out. How would the media spin the trial? In essence, it is the case of a writer – indubitably in this context, a journalist – being tried for an article which had already been published after complaints by two librarians!
I asked the police officer for clarification about whether I would get into trouble for posting the SK article on the Heretical site. He seemed to be aware of my appeal against recall, but said I had little chance of release before the remaining six weeks of my licence were up. In the afternoon, the normal supervisor was on “maternity leave” (this is an approximation), some men were supervising instead and I actually got some work done. During a discussion of criminal matters one young lad said something of such naivety (he’d confided some incriminating information to a lawyer) that the laughter took a while to die down.
After work came tea, then a smoke then association. About 18:30 I was leaning against a radiator as usual when an officer approached and said “Mr Sheppard?” I was thinking, ‘What trouble am I in now?’ but said that I was. “Immediate release” he said, “You’ve got five minutes to pack your stuff.” “You’re joking” I said. I suspect he was enjoying himself. No, he insisted, pack your stuff. He eventually had to come and get me while I was giving things away to my shaven-headed friend and others who had got the word.
The corridor which led off the wing seemed much busier than usual, and maybe others had gathered to watch me go. As I was passing through I recognised the one who had dubbed me “Reader” and gave him my alarm clock. I’m afraid my last words to my fellow prisoners were “If this turns out to be a joke I want it back!”
At Reception something was said about this happening only once a year. It was like being in a Hollywood film, enjoyable but thoroughly implausible. I quoted a film I had watched a couple of nights before, featuring Sharon Stone as a sharp-shooting gunslinger. As if! “Why can’t a girl be a gunfighter?” one of the officers asked, clearly another pc believer. The fact is that even the male ones are a Hollywood myth: their pistols were wildly inaccurate and I have seen a claim that bullets were very expensive at the time, making a mockery of all those trigger-happy shoot-outs. Whether this is true or not, handguns are still hopeless at distance even today, and the oft-repeated theme of shooting through ropes to free someone from the noose, hitting silver dollars in mid-air, or any of the other displays of astounding accuracy, are pure fantasy.
Then there was a walk to the gates with another officer, and we fell to talking about American prisons. I told him I much preferred British ones, and that the American justice system is cruel, quoting a case I had seen of a young black of 17 or so who had held hostage a group of college girls at gunpoint. None of the young women had been shot, raped or even hurt, but he got 50 years. “I’m not overly sympathetic to blacks who hold up college girls” I said, “but 50 years is a bit steep. We all do stupid things sometimes and anyone can make a mistake.” “They would have been in fear of their lives” he said, adopting the opposing stance. “That’s a fear crime” I replied, “it’s impossible to measure and everyone is trying to scrabble to the top of the victimhood ladder.”
Shortly we arrived at the ‘lock,’ the staggered doors which are the prison entrance and exit for vehicles. Normally all releases take place first thing in the morning; processing of departing prisoners is begun even before everyone is opened up for work movements. I was shown to a glass panel and run through a series of questions which were checked against the paperwork. Then a button was pressed, the heavy door slid aside a few feet and with a cheery wave to the officer behind the glass I stepped outside. I had a pint of bitter in a pub on the way to the train station, but it was not until I reached York and familiar territory that the realisation that I was free again finally struck home.
Librarians get writers imprisoned
Among the property returned to me was the Parole Board report though I didn’t look at it until later. It directed my immediate release but made no mention of the appeal document I had sent. This affair brings to four the number of times librarians have acted as snoops and eager agents of the police: one in Lancashire and three in Yorkshire. These incidents reveal a level of collusion between librarians and police which would put the East German Stasi to shame. What seems to be happening is that the librarians fawn over the PCSOs (a sort of new, amateur police) and the PCSOs are apparently desperate to ingratiate themselves with the full-time police. The latter seek to score points with their superiors and win politically-correct credentials. In the papers I think I can see the work of the “policewoman from Hell” I had the misfortune to meet in January 2012.
The ambivalence of librarians getting writers imprisoned quite defies comprehension. I had an interesting letter in jail from a lady who had formerly been a librarian telling me how things used to be. On reading it I remembered myself meeting that attitude of public service and serving members of the public impartially, regardless of their political perspective.
The perfect crime
It doesn’t require a lengthy jail term to know how to accomplish the perfect crime. In fact our prisons are full of failures, because successful criminals don’t get caught. (The cynic might remark that the most successful ones are in government.) It’s quite simple really. Do one, really well-planned job, then stash the proceeds as a nice nest-egg for the future. Above all, keep your trap shut and resist the temptation to flaunt your ill-gotten gains. Where most people go wrong of course is that they get greedy, do it repeatedly and sooner or later they make a mistake – usually sooner, for most of the prison population. Or they establish a pattern which eventually leads straight to their door and shortly thereafter to the back of a police van.
It strikes me now that this is what the Establishment has done. They’ve been banging away at me and others with similarly heretical views, to keep the puppet-masters happy for a while. That is, until they demand yet more repression to quell their resurgent insecurity and paranoia. And Big Sister has been getting away with it helped, in my case, by a certain judge at Leeds Crown Court. This time she may have gone too far, though most of my disgust is for the librarians, because they don’t have the excuse of being obliged to follow orders.
Not atypical of the cost of amateur crime was that committed by a man I shared a cell with in Armley, Leeds. He got five years for a £30 theft. One night, on his uppers (short of money) and the worse for drink, he demanded money from a taxi-driver. The Pakistani swore under oath that he had brandished a knife, thus it qualified as armed robbery. My cell-mate, an industrial fitter, insisted this was false, and also told me he had never been in trouble with the law before. All this depends of course on whether what he said was true, but I had no reason to doubt him. Within a few days of his arrival in jail, before he knew what was going on and how better to deal with such matters, he had his Rolex watch stolen, a more significant theft than the one which cost him his liberty.
Questions of identity
Until 16 April 2013 I must see probation officers at least weekly, one being as part of a “Healthy Identity” programme for “extremist offenders.” My reaction to this topic was that our sense of identity is an illusion. That is the current attitude, as I understand it. To have a true meta-brain would require a separate organ ‘above’ the brain, and this then involves having one above that, and so on. So evolution has taken a short-cut to avoid this complexity and provided the same benefit (survival advantage) by giving us the illusion of having a unique identity. Many visual processes have evolved using similar short-cuts, hence the large number of optical illusions.
I discussed collective identity once as I was being driven home after one of the police raids. I talked to the officers about the Stalinist raids against political dissidents, where an arrest team would pick someone up at four in the morning. My take was that with a police force in the traditional British model, consisting almost exclusively of white males, government-directed raids of a similar kind might initially take place, following orders. However after a while resistance would emerge, and the police would find some means – fudging or losing paperwork, taking sick leave and the like – to avoid executing orders they considered unfitting. If the police force were to become heterogeneous however, filled with women and ethnic minorities, they would follow such orders unquestioningly, perhaps even eagerly. A deracinated population is (simultaneously and equivalently) feminine and impressionable. It derives its identity solely from the State and mass media. A police force of this complexion would do absolutely anything the politicians wanted, regardless of traditional British values.
This is evidently the ‘long-term plan,’ though I would not claim that it is necessarily deliberate or even conscious. It is simply the logical conclusion of certain instincts being uninhibited. I am confident however that it will not come to this – other instincts will prevail, not least the Occidental respect for objective truth.
A strategic analysis
There is also the female policy of Marginal Defection to consider. In Marginal Defection, the female (the Protagonist in this game) optimally proceeds just below the threshold at which the male is provoked. This game is mentioned, but not yet named, at the foot of p. 36 of All About Women and described more fully in my forthcoming book ‘Sex & Power.’ Closely associated with Marginal Defection is supra-maximization and Going Too Far (GTF). Supra-maximization is manifest by repeated efficiency drives, being unable to tolerate incidental losses, being unable to throw anything away etc. When employed in Marginal Defection, supra-maximization is expressed by the player trying to achieve the maximum possible payoff; the temptation to do so cannot be resisted. This is one reason why in a feminine environment GTF is inevitable, and ultimately spells the demise of players employing this policy.
Today we have societal mediocrity, institutional incompetence, not only mores but our very identity being defined by an overweening mass media. If we are to analyse this in terms of game strategies, we must consider the possibility that the harmful policies now being promoted are the product not just of misguided delusion, but also of disguised malevolence. In other words, there is a population (the Protagonist) encouraging its opposite player (the Opponent) to follow detrimental policies. I call this Malign Encouragement.
An obvious adjunct to Malign Encouragement would be for the Protagonist to suppress criticism of the policies it promotes. Another adjunct would be to suppress, for example by stigmatisation, any attempt to correct the problems the Protagonist thrives on creating. My experiences are offered as contemporary expressions of these adjunct strategies, and may serve as illustration.
Almost 68 years after he was murdered by communist partisans close to his country’s border with Switzerland – hung upside down from a meathook alongside his Jewish mistress Clara Petacci – the former Italian leader Benito Mussolini is back in the news in North East England, thanks to a failed Labour politician’s objections to a successful Italian footballer!
Former Foreign Secretary David Miliband – a supporter of New Labour’s illegal invasion of Iraq which killed more than 100,000 civilians – has ignited a media firestorm over the appointment of Paolo di Canio as manager of Premier League football club Sunderland. Miliband’s opinion is only relevant because he is the MP for South Shields, the town next door to Sunderland, and until this week served on the club’s board of directors. He has no longstanding connection with the area, having been parachuted in for political convenience by the Labour Party leadership in 2001. Since he is now leaving British politics to take up a well-paid job in New York, it is unlikely that he will ever visit Sunderland again. The people of the area have served their purpose and Mr Miliband – son of Marxist immigrants – is moving on.
Mr Di Canio is understandably bemused by the outrage. He has never made any intervention in British politics (though it is understood that UKIP are presently seeking his support) and has been a successful footballer in this country – notably for West Ham, as well as Charlton and Sheffield Wednesday. Before he came to England he had a brief spell with Celtic, having begun his career at his home town Roman club Lazio. Since retiring as a player, Di Canio has been an extremely successful manager of Swindon Town.
It was at Lazio – the club he supported as a boy – that Di Canio’s brush with the forces of political correctness occurred. On at least two occasions when playing for the club he saluted fellow Lazio fans with the famous outstretched right-arm: a traditional Roman greeting now associated with fascism and national socialism. The occasions were a derby match against rivals AS Roma – always a heated affair – and another against Livorno, the Italian club most closely linked to the political left.
Lazio (together with rival Italian clubs Inter Milan and Verona) has always been seen as a right-wing club, partly because of its origins in the Italian military at the start of the 20th century, and partly because right-wing groups in Rome during the 1970s attached themselves to the club. Ironically their rivals AS Roma are also a right-wing club, and in fact Lazio owed its continued existence to the fact that a fascist general intervened in 1927 to prevent Mussolini’s government from merging the two Rome teams.
Livorno are Italy’s most left-wing club, and their fans build international connections with the far left at clubs such as Celtic, Marseille and AEK Athens.
There are multiple hypocrisies involved in Mr Miliband’s “anti-fascist” campaign against Mr Di Canio.
First of all, there seems to be no objection to the political stances of other managers, even “extremist” ones. Chris Hughton, current manager of Sunderland’s Premier League rivals Norwich City, was a member of the far-left Workers Revolutionary Party (WRP) during the 1980s, and even wrote a column for the WRP’s daily paper Newsline, which was funded by the Libyan dictator Colonel Gaddafi.
Another footballer involved with the WRP and occasionally writing for Newsline (which infamously supported the IRA) was Tony Galvin, Hughton’s teammate at Tottenham Hotspur and an Irish international. Galvin later became assistant manager of Newcastle United.
Perhaps the most famous far left manager is Egil Olsen, current manager of Norway and most famous for taking the Norwegians to the 1994 and 1998 World Cups. Olsen proudly describes himself as a Marxist-Leninist, and was a member of Norway’s Maoist party, the Workers’ Communist Party.
The objection seems to be not to any “extremist” politics, but particularly to “fascism”. All varieties of communism and anarchism are included within the “family” of acceptable politics, but ever since 1945 there has been an effort to exclude fascism and national socialism behind a wall that must never be breached.
This is not the case in Italy, where in many areas families still maintain their traditional allegiance to one side or the other in the conflicts of the mid-20th century. Di Canio is not unusual, and it is notable that he makes a point of saying that he is upholding the values that his parents taught him.
Where the liberal media have got themselves terribly confused is over the issue of “racism”. For the wartime and post-war English generation, the bogeyman was fascism or nazism. Until the last 20 years, most ordinary Englishmen and women would have been “racist” by 21st century standards, but they would have reacted strongly against Hitler and Mussolini.
Today – despite incessant brainwashing of children with lessons about the “Holocaust” – few ordinary folk really understand fascism or national socialism. The universal politically correct obsession is with race.
Hence the confusion in the Di Canio case, since he quite honestly claims that he is not a “racist”, even though he is proud to call himself a fascist. Mussolini’s fascism was not primarily about race. Many Italian Jews were active fascists – including Ettore Ovazza who founded a Jewish fascist newspaper – and the Italians did not adopt racial laws for the first sixteen years of Mussolini’s rule.
Further confusion and hypocrisy about race has coloured recent publicity about England fans chants against Rio and Anton Ferdinand. Fans were accused of being “racist” for singing:
Build a bonfire, build a bonfire
Put Rio on the top
Put Anton in the middle
And we’ll burn the f*****g lot!
Yet as every football fan knows, this is merely a variation of a very old terrace song which has been varied to target just about any club or individual whom particular fans might hate at any particular time. It has nothing to do with race, and is an anti-Ferdinand song in this instance, not an anti-black song.
Sadly, as both Paolo Di Canio and England fans are finding out, the race relations industry and their media allies will never let the facts get in the way of a good story!
Simon Sheppard A8042AA
HM Prison Northallerton
15A East Road