A woman in badger costume looks toward the Houses of Parliament in central London. Photo: Getty
Show Hide image

Laurie Penny on bigotry: Extremists chased through London by women dressed as badgers – that makes me proud

But that feeling faded when I saw a drunk woman draped in a St George’s flag dragging an angry pitbull through the police line to scream, “I’m not racist!” in the faces of some bewildered Asian students

Bigotry makes a lot of excuses for itself but when it arrives on your street, it takes dedication to look the other way. On 15 August, I watched as police and UK Border Agency officials raided beauty stores specialising in black and Asian hair products on Kingsland High Street in east London. Kids on their way home from school held up camera phones as shop workers were led out in handcuffs and forced into the back of a van that was parked outside an Irish pub, which was adorned with a sun-faded sign promising “a hundred thousand welcomes”. We were told we had “no right to know” where police were taking our neighbours.
 
“You can understand how that looks a bit racist,” said a campaigner from the grassroots activist project Anti-Raids Network, arguing with one of the officers at the scene. He asked why all the new, posh coffee shops staffed by Australians seemed to have no problems with immigration.
 
“How is it racist if you’re arresting people who are committing offences?” replied the young constable, with that flawless logic of a jobbing PC evading a question. The law, naturally, is never racist, nor are laws ever applied in a racist way. This is why, despite the plethora of minor crimes that they commit on Kingsland High Street on an hourly basis, I have not once seen the wasted white hipster kids who spend Saturdays self-intoxicating on every spare square of pavement being marched away in handcuffs.
 
“This is racist – bang-on racist,” said one bystander, fiddling nervously with her phone. She was afraid to give me her name. At first, I was confused – did she actually think I might have missed the clear overtones of a bunch of white border officials muscling Asian shopkeepers into a police van on a Thursday morning? – but I shouldn’t have been. In recent months, many white people in Britain have gone to a lot of trouble to excuse and overlook creeping racism in our communities.
 
 “I’m not racist but . . .” has ceased to be merely a polite way of letting your friends know that you’re about to say something racist and would prefer not to be held to account. It now signals something darker, a sort of violent unseeing. Redefining racism has become urgent, angry – a squabble over semantics that obscures truth rather than revealing it. It’s been a long, hot summer of lies and the worst ones have been those we’ve told ourselves about what’s going on in this country.
 
In July, the Home Office paid for vans with the words “Go home or face arrest” printed on them in big, ugly letters to drive around some of the most ethnically diverse areas of the capital, to the presumed delight of vacillating Tory voters who might otherwise have defected to Ukip. (For his part, Ukip’s leader, Nigel Farage, said that the language used was “nasty, unpleasant, Big Brother”.) The vans weren’t racist, though, because there was small print on the posters promising advice and help to any illegal immigrants who were seeking to return to their countries of origin. Never mind that the phrase “go home” echoes 50 years of fascist graffiti. There was some small print. So it’s not racist. So it’s fine.
 
Then there are the attacks on British mosques. According to the campaign group Tell Mama, since May – when a soldier, Lee Rigby, was murdered by Islamist extremists in Woolwich, south-east London – there have been 28 attacks on mosques across the UK, which include firebomb and arson attacks. The latest was in Harlow, Essex.
 
Rigby’s murder received blanket press coverage for almost a fortnight, whereas the mosque attacks have been reported calmly, leaving space on the front pages for such urgent news as the impending birth of a panda cub at Edinburgh Zoo. Pointing out this pattern of Islamophobia, however, instantly draws a horde of angry explainers keen to point out that technically Islam, like Judaism, isn’t a race – it’s a religion. Thinking that those Muslim community centres might have had it coming is technically not racist. So it’s fine.
 
Then there has been the mustering of the fascist English Defence League and BNP, who have been out on the streets exploiting the anti-immigrant sentiment and the rise in popular Islamophobia following the Woolwich murder. Granted, when members of the Scottish Defence League tramped through Edinburgh on 17 August, they were mistaken for a particularly innovative Fringe show; and when the BNP attempted to march on the Cenotaph in June, it was met not only by hundreds of anti-fascists but by a large number of people in furry costumes who were very cross about the forthcoming badger cull. (Nobody had thought to check what other protests were scheduled that day. Never had the slogan “Black and white – unite and fight!” been more appropriate.)
 
Fascism isn’t funny but headlines such as “Far-right extremists chased through London by women dressed as badgers” made me briefly proud to be British. That feeling faded when I saw a drunk woman draped in a St George’s flag dragging an angry pitbull through the police line to scream, “I’m not racist!” in the faces of some bewildered Asian students. She was a member of an antiimmigrant, anti-Muslim gang that has been intimidating black and ethnic-minority people in deprived areas of the country for years but she was convinced that she wasn’t racist. So that was fine.
 
The thing about racism is that it isn’t like a parking ticket or a poor exam grade. You don’t just get out of it on a technicality. Fifty years after the civil rights marches in the US, we seem to have reached a consensus that racism is pretty awful – but rather than tackle it in our communities, we are redefining it so we don’t have to think less of ourselves. 
 
Laurie Penny is contributing editor of the New Statesman

Laurie Penny is a contributing editor to the New Statesman. She is the author of five books, most recently Unspeakable Things.

This article first appeared in the 02 September 2013 issue of the New Statesman, Syria: The west humiliated

Getty
Show Hide image

Commons Confidential: Dave's picnic with Dacre

Revenge is a dish best served cold from a wicker hamper.

Sulking David Cameron can’t forgive the Daily Mail editor, Paul Dacre, for his role in his downfall. The unrelenting hostility of the self-appointed voice of Middle England to the Remain cause felt pivotal to the defeat. So, what a glorious coincidence it was that they found themselves picnicking a couple of motors apart before England beat Scotland at Twickenham. My snout recalled Cameron studiously peering in the opposite direction. On Dacre’s face was the smile of an assassin. Revenge is a dish best served cold from a wicker hamper.

The good news is that since Jeremy Corbyn let Theresa May off the Budget hook at Prime Minister’s Questions, most of his MPs no longer hate him. The bad news is that many now openly express their pity. It is whispered that Corbyn’s office made it clear that he didn’t wish to sit next to Tony Blair at the unveiling of the Iraq and Afghanistan war memorial in London. His desire for distance was probably reciprocated, as Comrade Corbyn wanted Brigadier Blair to be charged with war crimes. Fighting old battles is easier than beating the Tories.

Brexit is a ticket to travel. The Independent Parliamentary Standards Authority is lifting its three-trip cap on funded journeys to Europe for MPs. The idea of paying for as many cross-Channel visits as a politician can enjoy reminds me of Denis MacShane. Under the old limits, he ended up in the clink for fiddling accounts to fund his Continental missionary work. If the new rule was applied retrospectively, perhaps the former Labour minister should be entitled to get his seat back and compensation?

The word in Ukip is that Paul Nuttall, OBE VC KG – the ridiculed former Premier League professional footballer and England 1966 World Cup winner – has cold feet after his Stoke mauling about standing in a by-election in Leigh (assuming that Andy Burnham is elected mayor of Greater Manchester in May). The electorate already knows his Walter Mitty act too well.

A senior Labour MP, who demanded anonymity, revealed that she had received a letter after Leicester’s Keith Vaz paid men to entertain him. Vaz had posed as Jim the washing machine man. Why, asked the complainant, wasn’t this second job listed in the register of members’ interests? She’s avoiding writing a reply.

Years ago, this column unearthed and ridiculed the early journalism of George Osborne, who must be the least qualified newspaper editor in history. The cabinet lackey Ben “Selwyn” Gummer’s feeble intervention in the Osborne debate has put him on our radar. We are now watching him and will be reporting back. My snouts are already unearthing interesting information.

Kevin Maguire is the associate editor (politics) of the Daily Mirror

Kevin Maguire is Associate Editor (Politics) on the Daily Mirror and author of our Commons Confidential column on the high politics and low life in Westminster. An award-winning journalist, he is in frequent demand on television and radio and co-authored a book on great parliamentary scandals. He was formerly Chief Reporter on the Guardian and Labour Correspondent on the Daily Telegraph.

This article first appeared in the 23 March 2017 issue of the New Statesman, Trump's permanent revolution