This Much Is True

Not long after I became a member, the WRP annual summer camp was held in an enclosed field by the Blackwater estuary in Essex; naturally I went along. Gerry Healy, the leader of the WRP, was an unpleasant, devious chap; he was dangerous in fact. There were talks and discussions in a big tent and Gerry would lecture us all about how to move England to the extreme left. I’d never been to that sort of political meeting before, and it was not appealing. Most of the other camp attendees clearly found it rousing: I found it threatening and nasty. I realised then that this wasn’t my idea of a left-wing revolution, but the summer camp was in a beautiful place, and Vanessa and people like Frances de la Tour were there, so I stayed. In the morning, I thought I’d go for a walk with a chum. When we arrived at the fence enclosing the camp, a man with a gun was guarding the gate. He said, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ I said, ‘For a walk.’ He said, ‘Oh, no. You can’t leave.’ I said, ‘What do you mean we can’t leave? We want to go for a walk.’ ‘Well, you can’t. That’s against the rules,’ he said. ‘No one can leave the camp.’ And he put his hand firmly on his gun. ‘All right, love, keep your hair on,’ I said and we went back to the Red House, our revolutionary hostel. Although I stayed to the end of that particular jamboree, that incident marked the end of my workers’ revolution.

I couldn’t stand Thatcher but she fascinates me. I always say she did more harm to England than Hitler, she certainly destroyed our Union but she had a unity of vision, a commitment to her perception of the world, that was remarkable in many ways. I hate her for what she did to England, but I would like to have met her and talked to her. She thought that Britain could be run like a grocer’s shop. Well, it can’t.

I’ve become more political as I’ve got older; I haven’t mellowed — I’ve billowed. I don’t feel like being accepting and understanding, I want to fight more. I’d prefer not to be political, but how can one help it with such a collection of nasty people in charge?

Until Brexit, in elections, I always voted Labour; then, in a local election, I voted for the Lib Dems, because they were against leaving the European Union. For me, that was the great failure of the Labour Party, and of Corbyn. The result was legions of voters in the north of England turning out for Brexit — which meant voting for Boris Johnson — and these were people who had always voted Labour. They bought the Tories’ Brexit lies wholesale and look where it’s got us.

It’s upsetting to feel out of touch with people you thought you understood. Somehow, we on the left have to reach them again. And I don’t know how you do that. It’s the injustice of things that infuriates me. I can’t bear it when I see people doing well who ought not to be — Philip Green, for example, should be kicked, and instead he’s in Monte Carlo living the high life. I particularly mind about him because he’s a Jew.

Corbyn not only made gross mistakes in his stance on Brexit but also in his attitude to the antisemitism row within the party. Of course there is antisemitism in the Labour Party but nowhere near as much as people say. Undoubtedly Corbyn handled it badly and I regret it, because he’s a good man and no antisemite. Antisemitism, however, is widespread in the Tory party, but that’s never mentioned. The actions of the Israeli government have exacerbated British antisemitism. Now people can express anti-Jewish opinions with impunity, conflating anti-Jewish and anti-Zionist sentiments as if they were the same. It is cunning and deliberate, and I will continue to oppose it with all my strength.

Brexit is the biggest catastrophe of my adult life. The fact that my European citizenship has been taken away from me by this crowd of charlatans and rascals is appalling. I cannot understand it; it’s a madness that has overwhelmed the nation. Prejudice and racism abound. There could easily be a pogrom in this country now. It could be against Jews, or more likely against Muslims; it could even be against the traveller community. There are too many people boiling with hate and resentment, and it is alarming.

I’m getting angrier and more disappointed with the world as I get older. I’m shocked at the effect that Johnson and his cronies have had on our lives. I love British culture but the beauties of our country are being corrupted and destroyed. I am particularly horrified by this government’s vindictive attacks on the BBC, under the guise of protecting free speech. Boris Johnson is like Trump: a ruthless, dangerous narcissist, drunk with power.