Nobody knows the trouble I’ve caused….

Picked up on a piece in AlJazeera about the Botswana Bushmen who have been handed a victory in their long-running court battle to be allowed to return to their ancient hunting lands. In a move which reminded many of the old Apartheid South African Government’s attitude towards their indigenous population, the Bushmen were unceremoniously dumped in re-location camps, mainly because the diamond companies suspected there were a lot more precious stones just sitting exactly where the Bushmen used to hunt their game! The Botswana Government states it will appeal, but in one of the very, very, very few Black African States where the Rule of Law still holds firm, it looks as though the Botswana Government will acknowledge that this is one they’ve lost, and move on!  Now that’s Democracy in action!

So where are the cries of protest about a group totalling some six thousand British citizens who have been deported from the land of their birth, and who, despite many years of protest and legal struggle, remain barred from returning! This fact is true, these people do exist, and they were removed from British soil some thirty years ago, so where are the marches? Where are the daily protests on radio and television? Where are the full page adverts against the vicious treatment of six thousand British citizens? These demonstrations just do not exist! There is just a deafening silence!

Dammit! I forgot to include one word from my second paragraph. That word is “Commonwealth”. The six thousand people do exist, and the British soil was the British Commonwealth territory of Diego Garcia. These people were uprooted from their homes at the dictate of the British authorities and literally “dumped” on the dockside of Mauritius. They were given virtually no help whatsoever during their enforced deportation, no housing assistance, no counselling, hardly any money. Part of the Government’s argument for the continued removal was the fact, or rather their version of the fact, that there was virtually no fresh water sources on the island chain, the community was unsustainable from a long-term viewpoint, and the Diego Garcians, or the Chagos Islanders as the Government calls them, were being given a great favour by their removal and re-location!

The islander’s struggle to return, after a decade or more of complete denial, began in failure, but became complete with a ruling from the British High Court that the actions of the British Government, in both the removal and continued exile, of British Commonwealth citizens was both unjust and illegal! So there’s and end to it; the islanders have been told they can return, the Government has been told that their actions were both illegal and indefensible, Well, not exactly! Not really!

Why? Yes, why indeed? Trouble is, there’s another bunch of people sitting on Diego Garcia, part of the Chagos Islands, with the complete approval of the British Government. The Americans are there, along with two B-52 bomber squadrons, four huge military deployment vessels loaded to the gunwales with tanks, guns and artillery; base facilities for a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier battle group; consisting of three cruisers, ten destroyers, three nuclear submarines, eighty-four F-18A fighter-bombers and about four thousand base personnel, apart from the crews of the various ships! The base staff wear tee-shirts saying “Paradise Island” and they mean it! The swimming is safe, the beach facilities are superb, U.S. forces have an enviable life style when on the islands. Oh, and one last thing, there is plenty of fresh water!

So why have the protests and legal actions ceased? Why have the islanders not been returned to their ancestral homes, even if they have to share with nuclear-powered warships? Because the British Government, in the name of the British people, prepared a document called an “Order in Council”, a document from which there is NO APPEAL, which permanently bars the islanders from returning to their homes, and this document was signed by Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the Second, on the morning of the last General Election during a regular meeting of her Privy Council!. The High Court ruled just recently that the ‘Order’ was irrational, but the islanders still face further battles to gain the simple right to go home!

Now that’s also Democracy in action!

I wrote the post above for a blog called A Tangled Web some ten years ago; but I thought I would reprint it under my own name, just as the final nails are slammed into the coffin which holds the forlorn hopes of the Chagos Islanders by the pronouncements of the British Supreme Court, which states that the Islanders can go just about anywhere, but they cannot go home!

Bye, Jamie: you will not be missed!

There is but one small beam of sunshine exiting the morass of comment and uninformed bullshit regarding the British decision to leave the European Union.

That ray of light stems from the absolute promise by Jamie Oliver to leave Great Britain if Boris Johnson is elected by Tory MPs to be Prime Minister.

We can do without the mockney accents of this particular multi-millionaire as he leans down from his elevated position as a tv cook, and pronounces on all the things we, as a Nation, are doing so badly; inclusive of dietary habits, ingesting too much sugar, not eating all his healthy offerings from Sainsburys, as well as telling parents how badly they are doing in raising their children.

A good reason to elect Boris Johnson? As good as any other!

a field of broken dreams

When my buddy posted previously on the comments from the European Parliament’s President, he was just lifting a small corner on the huge cover-up which has lasted as long as the European Project itself, if not longer. When this jumped-up jack-boot hopeful stated that ‘It is not the EU Philosophy that the crowd decides its fate’ he was, of course not only speaking the truth, he was declaring a belief, a foundation stone of that Project. “How can we, a Federal State in embryo, allow one of the mere members of that embryo State to fracture the very progress of that Federal State?”

If the reader goes back into the past, and examines the motives of those who set up the whole IDEA in the first instance, the one thing which they wished is to remove all decisions, all discussions, all the trappings of Government; from the merest scrutiny by ordinary people, the voters who had not even been asked about those decisions in the first place.

When Arthur Salter and Jean Monnet came together , working in accord to hire and lease shipping to feed the monster which was the Allied cause in WW1, to carry the munitions, the food, the weaponry which was needed to back up the millions of fighting men, based all along that blood-glazed trench-strewn border; they were continually so frustrated by the road-blocks placed in their way by both shipowners and Governments that they hatched a plan. Their plan was to create a supra-Government which could override ownership, as well as indeed national Governments, and requisition the ships to carry war materiel. Their initial path was through the League of Nations, but the refusal of America’s Congress to adopt or ratify the League’s proposals left it mortally wounded. Monnet returned after the end of WW2, and hatched out a plan with Henri Spaak, which resulted in the European Coal and Steel Community, morphing into the European Common Market, which title of course was pure window dressing, as the end result was still a Super-State, built and operated by technocrats, with absolutely no allowance for Democracy. The Maastricht Treaty firmed things up, the Constitution which was thrown out by France, was refurbished, given a new name, and the Lisbon Treaty, giving, or rather handing over yet more areas of governance to Europe was signed by all European Leaders, with no ordinary person who had a vote even getting near it. UK Parliament ratified Lisbon, and then we ended up with the one man who counted…….Nigel Farage.
Farage’s UKIP scared Cameron so much he was forced to offer a Referendum, the last thing any politician wants. Why, because it demands a binary response; either ‘Yes’ or ‘Leave’, as against ‘No’ or ‘Remain’. So the intent of two secretive men who despised the very idea of Democracy, wishing instead for control by a benevolent Bureaucracy, which unfortunately had morphed into an autocratic Dictatorship, has been demolished because one nation, pushed into a vote by a Prime Minister shit-scared of what might happen; has voted by a healthy majority to leave the cosy warm hearthrug of the EU, and become, once more, the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

Just a small difference.

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

This other Eden, demi-paradise, 

This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war,

This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house,

Against the envy of less happier lands,

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

We here in the British Isles have been through a political wringer in the past few weeks, but, as it should be in a civilised country; the words, the writing, the arguments, the heated discussions, all has been ended in the way that we have developed in this: our Sceptred Isle set in a Silver Sea. In Polling Stations, with secret votes cast and held in sealed ballot boxes; those same boxes opened by trusted people, and the count completed, in the open, under full view; along with postal votes, most of which would also have been completed and sealed by the voter; all in the cause of Democracy. The decisions, great or small, are binding, as they should be. Our practices come from Demos; of the people and by the people, from the Greek, both in their language and the ancient dreams of the first Athenians who decided that the some, trusted by all, should take decisions for the many.  

We have been fairly lucky in our choices, with the fools, the rapacious, the greedy and the stupid discovered and dispossessed of the power they attempted to grab; we have maybe, through the passage of time, not always listened to or chosen those who may have deserved elevation, but we have come to understand our mistakes, and sometimes are given the chance to repair a truly daft decision.

The decision, by millions of Labour voters, to ignore the demands of the metropolitan Labour elite and of the Labour Party itself; stems, I believe, from the decision by the Labour ‘top dogs’ of the Blair era, to literally open the immigration floodgates, not only to the new European states and their restless peoples, only some of whom were truly amongst the poor; but also to the swarms from the sub-continent, from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh: the swarms which truly changed whole boroughs of our major cities forever. All allegedly in the cause of ‘diversity’; but actually to the deeper, hidden aim of changing our very demographic into a hotch-potch of colours, languages and races: to obliterate forever the truth that the British Isles was primarily and predominantly a White, Anglo-Saxon, predominantly Judeo-Christian (in ethos if not in fact) Nation.

The Labour Party forgot that their core voters are not like most of their M.P.s; they are not the wives of High Court Judges, not well-connected journalists, or even the spawn of Labour Apparatchiks who see Islington as their natural habitat: they inhabit the sprawling council estates of major towns and cities across this land, they also live in the terraced rows of the older cities, many live on the leafy suburbs, and some in more rural areas, but but the one thing they possess in large quantities is the ability to finally see and understand how they have been hoodwinked, and who was in charge of the hoodwinking! It wasn’t the Tories, although, or rather perhaps because of their own love-affair with the tentacles and money sloshing through the halls of the EU, they should take their share of the blame; but the overwheening certainty of the Labour and Liberal elite that they, and they alone, knew what is best for this, our own native land. For that arrogance; for that impertinence, which has changed our Country forever, they deserve the punishment which was so liberally doled out by over 17 million British voters.

As an American comment blogsite stated:- Democracy is an ugly thing. Especially for the losers. The people have spoken. The bastards!

They just got fed up of being bloody patronised!

I would begin by copying a comment which I posted on the Conservative Woman blogsite:-

I feel I must extend a heartfelt apology to the Labour voters of the North-East and other areas of Wales and England. I have often accused them of behaving and voting like a large herd of sheep, placidly either grazing or voting as the Labour masters directed. But I read this morning that the herd has revolted, gone against the dictates of everyone from Corbyn downwards; and voted in massive numbers to leave the accursed European Union.

How nice it to awake this morning to the news that we will be, in due and deliberate time, once more an Independent Nation. And even nicer to hear that we shall not be encumbered with the lies and plans of ‘Our Dave’ himself once he realised that the game was up!

I was about to play Beethoven’s Ninth on my music system,but view of that superb piece of music’s association with the EU, decided instead to opt for Judex, from Mors et Vitae. Justice sometimes must be celebrated!

I listened to the BBC Today programme this morning, the broadcast journalist was stationed in Sheffield, bleating with amazement that this staunchly Labour city had plumped, with 16 million more; had actually voted to leave the EU. And that was the theme of her whole broadcast. All the experts had virtually dictated the terrors, the horror which would befall anyone who doubted the ‘received truth’: all the world leaders had, with just one exception, opined that to ‘stay in’ was the sensible Eddie Izzard makes a plea to young people to vote to stay in Europe.He is taking his 'Stand up for Europe' campaign to 31 cities in 31 days.He urged young people to have their say just 3 days before the deadline to register. London 4 June 2016. (Mark Thomas/REX/Shutterstock/CP)

option: even such individuals of immense sagacity such as Eddie Izzard had solemnly warned the voters that to leave would be just ‘so terrible’: and still they voted to Leave. The Sheffield piece ended with two segments, the first recorded in a pub, with the unmistakable flat accents of Yorkshire stating that they had voted to leave because they were fed up of being lied to; being preached at; of being told that they were literally too bloody thick to understand how difficult it all was. The second segment came from a H.O.M.O., otherwise know in the trade as a House of Multiple Occupancy, and all interviewed were female university students or graduates, all Labour supporters; and with no exception all spoke of their horror, their absolute dismay, at a decision being taken by the ‘plebs’, the ‘lumpen proletariat’, the mob; which disagreed 180 degrees from their own.

A Labour politician put his finger right on the pulse when he said, “A huge turnout from council estates has happened, people who have never, ever, voted before; have turned out, and walked, shuffled, strolled and sauntered along to the Polling Stations: and made their own bit of history!”

 

Notes for a Novel

The scenes are set in the present, with two partisan sectors, with vastly differing ideas, opinions and motives: both attempting to capture the public’s minds and intentions before a vote, a referendum ballot; finally takes place to determine whether their Country stays within a large group of Nation States: or takes a decision to leave that group forever.

A tiny number of scheming but deeply cynical politicians, of varying political colours but with strongly-held views and ambitions, gather in a smoky room in a Georgian house in Lord North Street: all intent upon one thing and one thing only, to agree on a plan, a single act, which would bring public opinion strongly across towards their viewpoint.

The most cynical man in the group, a former advisor and master-spinner himself, addresses the group seated around the highly-polished table towards the conclusion of their secret debate. No notes were to be kept, all mobile phones had been switched off, batteries ejected, before the conspirators had departed their homes and offices before their separate anonymous journeys to a house which had already been ‘scrubbed’ and tested for electronic and recording devices; for this was one meeting which could not, and would never, be referred to again, once the meeting had concluded its truly terrible purpose. The speaker tapped his pen against the exquisitely-cut and decorated crystal water jug, and the ringing tone sharpened the attentions of the listeners.

“We are agreed, gentlemen, on the proposal which has been discussed. As our plan calls for one, and only one, sacrificial ‘lamb’ for the stewpot, I will now access the names which have been placed in the bowl before us; one candidate from six of the main areas within the Kingdom. All preparations are in place, and the scapegoat ‘patsies’ already seeded and in place, with a formidable team to finally mould his mind, already tormented by his own mental instabilities, once the target has been chosen. The rest of the ‘patsies’ will receive the mental health treatment and medications which those unfortunate people should have received immediately their diagnoses were completed. The back-up evidence; of instability, of threats and of weaponry preparations, are already in place, via the Internet, so we can proceed.” As he finished his sentences, he leant forward, dipped his hand into the bowl, and brought out a single slip of paper, folded over three times. He spoke the name revealed by the paper, and the eldest of the six other men, one who had sat silently for most of the meeting whilst sat around the table flinched, hesitated for maybe five seconds, then slowly nodded his assent to the choice.

The speaker remained standing. “Again, gentlemen, we are agreed, we do this terrible thing, because our opponents are gaining upon us in the race towards the Referendum Vote; we sacrifice this one; so that we might, by inference alone, blame this one death on our opponents: and the fools who follow us will leap upon this tragedy as if it were Manna from Above: and our Colleagues in Brussels, in all the capitals of Europe, will breathe easier because we, above all else, know that might is right!”

The chosen slip of paper, was gathered together with its five fellows, and deposited upon the flames of the wood-fuelled fire burning in the set-back fireplace. The word on the paper, shrivelling fast in the hungry flames, bore a single word; Cox!