When the annals of British nationalism come to be written, the events of November 29th will surely merit their own page in that history.
Every one of the hundred and fifty BNP men and women who set out for Liverpool in the pre-dawn fog of freezing morning knew full-well that they faced arrest and ill-treatment at the hands of a British police force out of control.
These were one hundred and fifty people with families, jobs and mortgages, who said tearful goodbyes to their loved-ones that morning in the expectation that they would not return in the evening, and that their homes might be invaded and searched, just as Tory Damian Green’s home was violated, by Labour’s political police.
There are other political parties, for sure, who could turn out one hundred and fifty activists, even on a chill wintery day. But perhaps only the British National Party boasts one hundred and fifty stout hearts willing to risk all they hold dear in the cause of freedom.
Thankfully, all our dark fears proved ill-founded. As we arrived in Liverpool, the jubilant “Liverpool 13″ greeted us with news that the police and Crown Prosecution Service had backed down, the triumph was won and the enemy had already fled the field. The mood changed abruptly from silent and grim-faced determination, to celebratory smiles and back-slapping congratulations.
Few doubted that if the authorities had persisted with their pretence that the “Racism Cuts Both Ways” leaflets were illegal, then Nick Griffin and his followers would all be arrested for distributing them that day. The media would undoubtedly have linked Nick’s arrest to that of Tory Damian Green and drawn adverse conclusions about the malevolence of Labour. But ultimately, Labour’s nerve failed them and they clearly decided that political martyrdom was a gift to the BNP which they could not afford to give.
So the one hundred and fifty carried their flags proudly to the appointed place and made their stand, armed with the truth and with BNP leaflets by the thousand. And the fine reception they received from the warm-hearted people of Liverpool was just reward in itself for their efforts.
The BNP activists at Liverpool seemed a distillation of all that is still Great about Britain. The public saw ex-servicemen with medals worn proudly on their chests. There were professional men in suits, accountants and businessmen, whose briefcases bulged with BNP leaflets. There were middle-class ladies with the accents of Somerset and Surrey, and working-class lads from the Lancashire mill towns. Here stood fashion-conscious young girls in their high-heeled boots, and frail grey-haired old men, who fought for their country long ago and were prepared to do so again, just one last time.
All of them conducted themselves with exemplary restraint and good-humour, ignoring the distant moronic chants of the Labour mob, and they stuck to their purpose of handing out leaflets with quiet British resolution. The BNP is proud of them all, and one day soon, our nation will be proud of them too.
On this day of triumph, even Merseyside police seemed utterly transformed. The courteous and impartial police officers of yesteryear, who inspired and deserved our respect, unexpectedly reappeared. Smart and professional officers committed to protecting the peaceful and innocent, and arresting the violent and guilty, seem so rare these days that, in truth, the transformation came as a shock. Our thanks and “three cheers” for the ordinary Merseyside police officers who did their duty so creditably that day were both genuine and well-deserved.
There are many lessons of Liverpool, but the greatest of all is this: men and women of stout heart can still prevail against the powers-that-be. We may face an Establishment enemy of daunting might, but he is an enemy too with a nervous twitch in his cheek, a quaver in his voice and sweat on his brow.
With the “Liverpool 13″ now happily free to enjoy an untroubled Christmas with their families, we may look back on our remarkable day out in Liverpool as the moment the tide of fortune turned in our favour.
These were one hundred and fifty people with families, jobs and mortgages, who said tearful goodbyes to their loved-ones that morning in the expectation that they would not return in the evening, and that their homes might be invaded and searched, just as Tory Damian Green’s home was violated, by Labour’s political police.
There are other political parties, for sure, who could turn out one hundred and fifty activists, even on a chill wintery day. But perhaps only the British National Party boasts one hundred and fifty stout hearts willing to risk all they hold dear in the cause of freedom.
Thankfully, all our dark fears proved ill-founded. As we arrived in Liverpool, the jubilant “Liverpool 13″ greeted us with news that the police and Crown Prosecution Service had backed down, the triumph was won and the enemy had already fled the field. The mood changed abruptly from silent and grim-faced determination, to celebratory smiles and back-slapping congratulations.
Few doubted that if the authorities had persisted with their pretence that the “Racism Cuts Both Ways” leaflets were illegal, then Nick Griffin and his followers would all be arrested for distributing them that day. The media would undoubtedly have linked Nick’s arrest to that of Tory Damian Green and drawn adverse conclusions about the malevolence of Labour. But ultimately, Labour’s nerve failed them and they clearly decided that political martyrdom was a gift to the BNP which they could not afford to give.
So the one hundred and fifty carried their flags proudly to the appointed place and made their stand, armed with the truth and with BNP leaflets by the thousand. And the fine reception they received from the warm-hearted people of Liverpool was just reward in itself for their efforts.
The BNP activists at Liverpool seemed a distillation of all that is still Great about Britain. The public saw ex-servicemen with medals worn proudly on their chests. There were professional men in suits, accountants and businessmen, whose briefcases bulged with BNP leaflets. There were middle-class ladies with the accents of Somerset and Surrey, and working-class lads from the Lancashire mill towns. Here stood fashion-conscious young girls in their high-heeled boots, and frail grey-haired old men, who fought for their country long ago and were prepared to do so again, just one last time.
All of them conducted themselves with exemplary restraint and good-humour, ignoring the distant moronic chants of the Labour mob, and they stuck to their purpose of handing out leaflets with quiet British resolution. The BNP is proud of them all, and one day soon, our nation will be proud of them too.
On this day of triumph, even Merseyside police seemed utterly transformed. The courteous and impartial police officers of yesteryear, who inspired and deserved our respect, unexpectedly reappeared. Smart and professional officers committed to protecting the peaceful and innocent, and arresting the violent and guilty, seem so rare these days that, in truth, the transformation came as a shock. Our thanks and “three cheers” for the ordinary Merseyside police officers who did their duty so creditably that day were both genuine and well-deserved.
There are many lessons of Liverpool, but the greatest of all is this: men and women of stout heart can still prevail against the powers-that-be. We may face an Establishment enemy of daunting might, but he is an enemy too with a nervous twitch in his cheek, a quaver in his voice and sweat on his brow.
With the “Liverpool 13″ now happily free to enjoy an untroubled Christmas with their families, we may look back on our remarkable day out in Liverpool as the moment the tide of fortune turned in our favour.
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