1985 (31 page)

‘The American Bar here has been long abolished, Mr Jones. Alcohol, in our faith, is
haram
. On the other hand, I have an adequately stocked drinks cabinet in my suite downstairs. If you would care to –'

‘Thank you,' said Bev. ‘On second thoughts, no. I have work to do. In the name of Allah and a Free Britain.'

‘We will meet at breakfast, then. Your delightful daughter is looking forward to breakfast, she tells us. She has a great fondness for the
naknik
– no, that is the Hebrew name.
Sougou
is the right word.'

‘
Sou
–?'

‘Sausage. It is common among Western children. She will not be allowed to have pork ones, of course, but she will hardly notice the difference. She did not notice it tonight.'

Near the Cherry Blossom Boot Polish Factory, Chiswick, I got the first physical impact of strikers' enmity towards Islam. Three Bentleys going to Heathrow, flying Muslim flag. Sheikh in middle one, me and Bessie in third, father and daughter saying farewell. We stopped to let two loudspeaker vans go down Devonshire Road. Ten or so strikers threw stones at us, shouting wog bastards, up Allah's arse and so on. Our off-side rear window starred and, from the noise, bodywork dented. Bessie
open-mouthed with joy as though seized by scruff and thrust bodily into TV scene of violence. I expected we'd shrug it off, go on to Heathrow, but HH did not shrug it off. He was out of the car, giving Arabic orders. Two chauffeurs, Pakistanis probably victims of East End paki-bashers, dragged two Nimr automatic repeaters from trunk of Car 2. Clicked their weapons to ready and waited for signal to fire. I tumbled out of car yelling No no no no for God's sake, got into fireline. Stonethrowers ran like bloody hell, one Paki ran a few yards and spluttered shot at them, got one in leg, other in chest. One dead certainly. HH shrugged, dark glasses on, cigarette in Dunhill holder. Guns stowed, continued to Heathrow, leaving 1 dead 1 wounded. Bessie said it was like Grimm's Law or some such bloody TV nonsense, then wondered if she'd be in time to see Pornman that night, very vague indeed as to where she was going.

Heathrow Terminal 3, Islamic corner where nobody on strike. We whizzed straight on to tarmac. Sheikh's Nisr jet waiting, fuel nozzle to breast. Giant jets everywhere becalmed, no control tower staff, no customs, passport formalities. Whole airborne army could land here without opposition. Felt tremor of fear. Two Arab Wizzahs were there, mechanics peering into their innards, wooden crates being unloaded. Major Latimer, man met at Turnham Green, posting to Preston cancelled, was there with swagger stick and two trucks. Weapons he said – Okottas, Ghadibs, Vihainens, also British Mark IV Angries. Real army now, he said. If bastards want trouble bastards can have bloody trouble. Wind whipped up Bessie's skirt to arse level. Latimer went click click in soldier's vulgarity. My daughter, I said. Sorry old boy, nice piece of goods, daughter or not. I said ila allaqaa to HH, my prospective son-in-law, kissed poor or lucky Bessie. She said: I'm hungry, dad. They'll serve elevenses when you're aboard, Bessie. But I'm hungry NOOOOOOW! Last words Bessie spoke to me. Went back townwards in Bentley No. 3, starred and dented.

Strike absolutely and totally bloody general. Went round getting news. Rain, mud, piled refuse, squalor of streets growing. Women crowding and scratching to get into supermarket, Free Britons trying to control. Strangely, some of the strikers help. Hope there. Bloody ideological nonsense from top of unions must fail sometime, workers basically decent, must see sense. Later saw windows smashed of liquor store not by strikers but by Free Britons, coming out loaded with booze. Free
Briton NCOs tried to make them see sense, barked orders, got the usual Up yours Jack and so on, then put on knuckledusters, waded in. Very nasty, very necessary. At Great Smith Street work on mosque goes on, but workers on mosque obviously unhappy at being marched to and from shifts by platoons protecting them from angry mobs. How long can this go on? File news, write editorial, cautious, no word about being armed or the necessity of violence. I have wads of cash in pocket worth little at moment. Loaf of bread £5. Bit of chuck steak £9.50. A Free British bakery is being set up in, appropriately, Bread Street. Have own bedroom Al-Dorchester.

Ill-printed bulletin going the rounds with facsimile signatures of appropriate ministers of the crown, saying that builders' demands have been met – 20 hour week, £20 rise. That is to get that particular bit of unrest out of the way. Great Mr Pettigrew himself turns up at Gt S. Street to harangue from loudspeaker van mosque workers. Join your brothers, leave this illegal workforce, back into union, your action paralysing whole country. Some of mosque workers scratch heads, doubtful, unhappy, but NCO foremen shout and prod them back to labour. Which is worse – obeying NCOs, WOs, officers or jumping at shop-steward's whistle? Pay better in Free Britons? Yes, notice posted on worksite of £25 rise in soldier's pay. Half-hearted cheers.

Food supplies remain a problem, though not in well-stocked Al-Dorchester, in front of which now barbed wire and sentries armed with Chanzir 45s. Col. Lawrence says all ammunition blank, but I do not believe. He wants me to take oath of obedience, come properly under military discipline, but I say no time, too much to do. A certain Syed Omar, mufti for Central London, comes into office to deliver statement to be published in
Free Briton
. Col. L translates for me. Gist: must be clearly understood that mosque erection is holy work not subject to secular laws or covenants, that the site may be British soil in geo or topographical sense but in deeper or spiritual sense this is Islam, holy ground, promise made to the whole Islamic world that Great Mosque of London, chief Muslim temple of all of West, would be opened with great ceremony on first day of Shawwal. Promise must be kept, strikes and
industrial disputes generally most frivolous, let British people and their governors clearly understand that Islamic leaders will stand no bloody nonsense or holy words to that effect.

Car of Syed Omar pelted with stones and rubbish on his way home from Al-Dorchester. Small irregular patrols going the rounds of the town, armed with pistols, staves, coshes, anything, all Muslims, Pakistanis, even Northern Chinese, Anglo-Saxon converts to faith, women too, no Arabs, nothing to do with Free Britons, protecting Muslim shops, residences, mosques of course. An infantry detachment from Lockheed Barracks, against instructions of army shop-stewards, marched round East End, with auto weapons taken from armoury broken into, tried goodheartedly to organize distribution of flour supplies for communal street baking. Candles, when obtainable, cost £10 each. Much breaking-up of property – furniture, shop fronts etc – to light street fires. Frozen mud everywhere today, people slipping and cursing. Free British sentry slipped outside Al-Dorchester on to arse, gun went off accidentally, mortally wounded woman who turned out to be Lady Belcher, wife of TUC peer. Hell of a row. Tanks reported rumbling through streets of Birmingham. More arms certainly coming in at Heathrow and other airports. Cannot get much news from provinces except of riot, killing, gaspipe leaks, explosions, water supplies frozen. Hot argument with Col. L about his lying about sentry blank ammo. He says: I hate violence but you can see situation. You can see also no compromise possible re mosque. I say end of strike in your hands and those of your bosses, whoever or wherever they are. Call off blackleg Free Briton labour, let unionized labour take over. He says: So this your view, eh? You've changed, by Allah. Not really, I say, have always believed in a minimum of protective unionization, am, after all, a historian, but object to rigidity. He says: once for all, no possibility of compromise, Islamic leaders will not accept unionized labour, the British union leaders must be made to see reason. See reason in nozzle of gun, I say. Don't like this situation one bit, I say.

Curious event in Piccadilly. Devlin's son, model for Bill the Symbolic Worker, turned up by Eros statue dressed as in poster and recognized as such, very very drunk, stripped off naked despite cold and indulged in homosexual cavortings, saying Bugger the Workers, Workers, come and be buggered. Posters of Bill the Symbolic Worker all over town being defaced, great pricks and dirty words spraygunned on. Woman I met in
street sobbed at me and said you must help, I have to get to Darlington, have no money, terrible things happening in Darlington they tell me, married daughter there, very worried. I gave her my travel warrant issued at Crawford Manor, blank but signed, and she nearly grovelled in gratitude. How ridiculous really. No northbound trains running beyond Leamington, manned by Free British engineers. Warrant probably useless anyway. But anything with royal coat of arms on, as warrant has, being issued by State Rail Authority, is a talisman of sanity and stability. Some day she may be able to use it, poor woman.

Remembered Kumina boys – so long ago it seems – telling me of UU or Underground University. Saw one in action today in broken and totally looted supermarket, Latin literature being taught to gang of attentive toughs. Striking sec. school teachers come along to protest at blackleg education, scholastic scabs etc, and UU students show how violence, not gratuit though, necessary to protect human right to be taught Virgil and Horace. Gesta sanguinaria (?).

It is quite certain that feeble government no longer in existence. Mr Sheen, Prime Minister, was heard yesterday on Free Brit radio asking both sides to see sense, Islamic authorities to temper fanaticism, TUC for that matter to temp. fan. Today story came through very rapidly that he had resigned and that King had done nothing about asking anybody else to form new government. Makes no difference. Proves conclusively that we have never had a govt in Tucland except for going through motions of delaying enactments demanded by TUC. Constitutional situation interesting, though. Has monarch right to leave country govtless? Traditionally he must ask some member of majority party, usually recommended by retiring PM, to take over Cabinet, reshuffle, form new Cab. Will next stage be deposition of King and promotion of Mr Pettigrew as (Temporary?) Head of State? End of Constitution?

Increasing demand in streets, esp outside Gt Smith St mosque site and United Arab Embassy, for Arabs to leave Britain. Get rid of bloody wogs etc. Race riots on small scale, perhaps to grow greater. Free Britons openly using arms. Story of tanks in Birmingham proved false. They were small World War II Bren carriers. Food growing short at Al-Dorchester.

Persistent rumours from East Coast of Arab planes, or at least planes with star and sickle moon glinting in winter sunlight, trying to land but
NATO
forces buzzing them off. Too fantastic to be true. Bombers? Troop carriers? I will believe nothing of this nonsense.

Hunger, chaos, thawed mud everywhere, uncollected debris, water pipes bursting, unofficial warnings of tainted water supplies, gas explosions. Unrest among Free Britons. Today being pay day, pay parades lined up punctually at FB centres at 09.00 hours. Moratorium on pay declared. No cash available. Violence. Arab leader spoke Oxford English at conference in Al-Dorchester ballroom (Sheikh Isa Ta'ala? Name seemed to be in doubt) about awareness of unpopularity of Arabs and Muslims generally in angry strikebound Britain, but Islam had known hostility throughout its long existence and there was no intention of withdrawal of Arab presence. Much Arab money tied up in British property. The Sheikh, statutory dark glasses on, cigarette in Dunhill holder lighted by brown-suited aide, seemed uneasy. I gained impression from Free Briton higher-ups, other Arabs, anonymous men who might have been from TUC or MPs or higher civil servants, that there had been serious discussion of kind of Pan-Islamic take-over under Sultan or Kalif or President, in accordance with instructions of The Prophet to plant the flag of the faithful in the land of the infidel. Feared opposition from USA cartels with substantial, if dwindling, financial interests in Britain. Much talk of CIE, which I did not understand. Found out later that the letters stand for Channel Islands Experiment. Cannot believe. Cannot at all believe what I was told.

Apparently a French-speaking Algerian force collected in Avignon and Orange, backed by money from Saudi Arabia, took over the islands of Alderney and Sark some months back. Muzzled press and radio, no news leaking to either French or British mainland. Enforcement of Islamic law, closing of bars, splitting of beer and liquor casks in streets, golden fluids singing down the gutter, banning of pork and other pig products, conversion of main churches into mosques, conversion of Jesus Christ into Nabi Isa, penultimate great prophet but no more. Much hostility on part of Channel Island citizens, blood chasing golden liquor
down gutters. So – my dream! General conclusion that experiment was a failure, that enforced conversion impracticable. French government persuaded seignories of Sark and Alderney to hush up incident, embarrassing to French. How little we know, God help us, how little we are told. It seems unlikely, anyway, that there is going to be an imposition of Islam here. Festina lente.

A very nasty incident today and a very unpleasant row with Col. L. Five or six mosque workers wanted to pack the job in. They hated being marched to and from barracks and being yelled at, cursed, and threatened with violence. They wanted to re-enter the ranks of the unionized construction workers and quit the Free Britons. They were marched off under heavy guard and not seen again. I wanted to know what had happened to them. Col. L knew but would not tell me. Disciplinary action necessary against the defaulters of any army, he said. What kind of disciplinary action has been taken? I wanted to know and still do. Not important, he said. They have been punished. Mutiny totally impermissible. Shot, have they been shot? No, of course not, we do not shoot our own people. But these, I said, are not your own people, these are just people in it for the pay. Tell me, I want to know. You have no right to know. It's time you took that oath of allegiance. Tell me, I said, and to hell with your bloody oath. Do not swear at me, Lieutenant Jones, and so on.