A journey home to a foreign land
Yesterday I had to drive my daughter the forty miles or so to her university halls in central London. The journey took me through the southern outskirts of the London I used to know, and where I spent twenty of my first twenty-one years, and on through the dark heart of Africa. It’s a journey I made in September too - for the same purpose - and, as then, I arrived at the river in a state of deep misgiving, even though I knew in my mind what I would find.
But it’s when one encounters Africa and Asia in person in the places one knew intimately as a child that the term “race-replacement” is revealed in its starkest and most uncompromising reality. My secondary modern school had over six hundred white-skinned pupils between the ages of twelve and sixteen. There were a handful of Jews among them, who I did not notice or pay attention to. But there were no Africans or Asians at any time while I was there. In six years of representative football, cricket and athletics matches with the other five secondary moderns in the district I came across one black lad. My old stamping ground looks to be 25 to 30% vibrant now, though it’s much more than that, of course, as one travels northward up the London Road.
There is, though, something very evident that no one in the mainstream speaks about, and that’s the de facto racial segregation that forces itself onto one’s consciousness as the ribbons of shops and shoppers go by. White couples, white friends, white families walk together. They do not mix with other races. Asians do the same. Blacks do the same. The In-Betweens who, in South London, are overwhelmingly the products of black male “cross cultural fertilisation”, would seem to disappear into the black groups.
There were vanishingly few multiracial groups visible on both journeys. I don’t doubt that where social mixing across the races takes place it is negotiated without too much in the way of problems. But a preference for social mixing, if it is there at all, is manifestly avoided when people go outdoors! The anti-racist strategy, exercised as it is by the presumption, itself racist, of an original sin of white skin, appears to have failed - if, of course, we accept that its goal was panmixia rather than white suppression.
If it was just designed for suppression, it’s been a startling success:
This story of white working-class educational woe does impinge on liberal awareness, even quite frequently. It is “unfortunate”. But these are liberals, and they are politically unwell. So, for example, one report on the matter authored by a couple of Bismuthian figures named David Gillborn & Alison Kirton concluded that when working-class boys with white-skin explain their educational failure in terms of racial victimhood, thereby identifying multiracialism as anti-white racism, that is itself white racism. Not their fault. It’s the system. But it’s inadmissible. Just so you understand:
Alternatively, there is “equality campaigner” Karamat Iqbal, a son of Pakistan, who can’t wait to consign his English host to the status of one insignificant strain among many. “Let’s face it,” he says, writing in October last year, “in many of our larger cities, the white working class will soon be an ethnic minority.”
He has come up with a list of characteristics of white educational failure:
Like Gillborn and Kirton, Iqbal assumes that “disadvantage” - social class - explains the educational underachievement of working-class whites. He does not ask questions about their actual educational experience. It never occurs to him that special circumstances attend dispossessed Europeans whose culture is attacked, whose existence is denied, and whose value as a people is measured by how much they “celebrate” their own misfortune. Instead, Iqbal’s big idea is to visit upon failing white youths the high-frequency attention normally reserved for blacks. But he does not mention that blacks also have a rich narrative of victimhood and struggle to which they can look and from which they can abstract meaning and pride, and he does not mention that the villain of that narrative is the racist white oppressor.
Of course, he can’t. The oppressor of the white working-class is himself, basically, both as immigrant and member of the anti-English Establishment. Were it not so, there would be an addendum to his article listing not the characteristics of white failure, but the active measures required to end the racism at its root.
For example, in “partnership” with the British Board of Deputies, the National Union of Teachers has delivered itself of not one but two reports into the, of course, very harrowing racism and anti-Semitism nobly suffered by young Chosen People in the British education system. If one changes names and re-contextualises a little bit, these are the bullet points that one gets:
Unless it is during the repatriation process following a successful nationalist accession to power, we may never see a list like that. But why should Jews be accorded such protections now while whites are thrown to the dogs?
As I mentioned here a couple of years ago, there are one or two people outside nationalism who understand that the white working-class is not so culturally-confident or so indifferent to its fate that it can withstand the modern-day equivalents of Colonial Mentality and Cultural Cringe. Here are the words of one of those people, the brave Philip Beadle telling it like it is to a roomful of NUT members in 2008:
But then, if Power does not care where you go from here, why would it care how you came?
I went to school with some kids like those Beadle is talking about. But that was over forty years ago when this land belonged to them and the old working-class tradition of labour was still in tact. I look at their world today and, even though I know what to expect, its ineluctable foreignness shocks me. What must it be like … how must it feel, how empty, how hopeless ... to stand in their shoes now? Sometime someone must be made to pay.
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