𝓤𝓷𝓲𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓼

Throughout history, extremism has tended to breed further extremism. That is certainly true of my homeland of Ulster during the Troubles, where the institutional bigotry of the ruling Unionist regime at Stormont in the late 60s led the mainly Catholic, nationalist minority to step up their campaign for essential civil rights. But the Protestant rulers refused to budge an inch. “What we have, we hold,” was their guiding mantra.

So began the province’s descent into a relentless cycle of violence, as paramilitaries on both sides stoked the conflict and too many politicians wallowed in sectarianism. Nothing symbolised the flight from democratic pluralism more graphically than the creation in February 1972 of the Unionist Vanguard movement, led by the hardline former Home Affairs Minister Bill Craig.

What made Vanguard particularly alarming to moderate opinion was its adoption of quasi-fascistic trappings at its huge rallies, including military salutes, motorbike outriders, uniformed honour guards, and displays of banners and insignia.

Craig, eloquent but sinister, denied the accusations of fascism, but his inflammatory language did little to allay such concerns. At one vast demonstration in Belfast, he told a crowd of more than 75,000 people of “our duty to liquidate the enemy”.

Ulster seemed to be sliding towards the abyss of anarchy. But gradually, as the British Government began to exert political control over Northern Ireland, the malignant influence of Craig and his allies faded.

I was relieved at his demise. Growing up in Belfast, I recall the chill I felt at the antics of Vanguard, which seemed to offer nothing but discord. And I have to confess that I felt the same chill this week at the sight of anti-migrant protesters, clad in black and wearing balaclavas, as they brought Portsmouth and Dover to a standstill.

As Vanguard showed more than 30 years ago, the apparatus of intimidation is utterly alien to democracy, where policy should be decided by reasoned argument rather than the clenched fist.

The Portsmouth and Dover protestors view themselves as true patriots, as did the Vanguard activists. Indeed, Bill Craig had been an RAF rear gunner in Lancaster bombers during the Second World War. But paramilitary posturing is completely antithetical to traditional British liberal values of freedom, tolerance and individual rights.

In contrast to continental Europe, radical ideology has never been part of British national life. During the 1930s, Sir Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists attracted some excitable media attention but never won more than a couple of council seats.

Until recently, it was only the unique divisions of Northern Ireland that enabled extremism to flourish within our territory. But tragically, the social revolution imposed by mass immigration has brought sectarianism and communal strife to mainland Britain.

The protests at Portsmouth, Dover, Epping and elsewhere did not occur as a direct response to demographic and cultural upheaval, which has seen many Britons treated like second-class citizens in their own country, while the friction has been worsened by the import of superstition, misogyny, welfare dependency and bigotry on an epic scale.

The revolution was foisted on us by the ruling class without any electoral mandate and without any honesty. The British people were told the colossal annual influx of newcomers would bring more prosperity, higher living standards and improved public services.

But none of this has happened. In truth, we have become a low-trust, low-growth, high-tax, high-crime society where our national identity has been eroded, and our social cohesion has been lost. In response to the protests, Andy Burnham said: “We must stop the politics of poison.”

But the toxicity was released by successive governments in their deceitful addiction to open borders. Now, as divisions deepen, we are beginning to adopt some of the worst features of Northern Irish politics in the 1970s.