Lucky Uganda


It’s easy to grow despondent with the standard of post-referendum political debate. For every AC Grayling who argues his pro-EU point with grace, humour and hysterical contempt for people he disagrees with, there’s a Julia Hartley-Brexiter spouting xenophobic bile with little regard for the middle-class Guardian-readers offended by her existence.

Thankfully, when it comes to reasoned discourse, The New European has been leading the way for some time, thanks largely to a clever trick of convincing its readers they’re more intelligent than the uneducated cretins in thrall to the right-wing media’s hate-filled, divisive schtick. Indeed, TNE have been fighting hatred and division from their very first issue, which featured a cartoon dog calling 17 million people ‘idiots’.

So it will surprise no-one that The New European editors are huge fans of Yasmin Alibhai-Brown and her brave dedication to fighting racism with racism. Which was of course present and correct in the corrosive column she penned last week: ‘Britain has never been a small dull grey island…until now’ which passionately defended Britain’s membership of the European Union by listing lots of nice things about Europe which had bugger all to do with the EU.

In fact, save for the obligatory implication that Juncker’s pet super state is uniquely responsible for the lack of world wars this century, Yasmin’s piece failed to list one good thing about it. Luckily it did contain much gushing admiration for great Europeans such as Shakespeare and Kipling. Indeed, the latter perfectly symbolises the magic of the EU’s diverse melting pot: a proud Brit who named his signature cake after a Parisian prostitute. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it, Boris.

‘How on earth were those who voted for Brexit persuaded that they were never European?’ she asked, utilising the months clearly spent interviewing the 17 million racists who broke her heart. Because it wasn’t just their vote that outraged Yasmin: it was the fact that they were hoodwinked by a pint-swilling city boy she’s never forgiven for calling her a ‘stupid little girl’ on the radio. The fact that the electorate were more than capable of making their own minds up about the EU without the expert guidance of slippery loudmouth Nigel Farage was wisely ignored.

As was the fact that a bureaucratic union of 28 members that has only existed in its current form since 1993 is not remotely the same thing as a centuries-old continent consisting of 50 sovereign states covering 10,000,000 square kilometres.

But like most principled Europhiles, Yasmin doesn’t need facts when she has a telepathic understanding of 17 million people she’s never met: ‘Crass and shallow, the jingoists – most of them English – think they can have it all’, she raged, highlighting the shocking revelation that most of the people who voted in the EU referendum were English. Or ‘street people’, as Yasmin helpfully called them, quoting that man Kipling again while adding her own lyrical flourishes like ‘used’, ‘ill-taught’ and ‘betrayed by manipulative scoundrels’. She may never join Mr K in the pantheon of great British poets but it’s a knocking bet she’s earned herself a promotional hamper of Viennese Whirls.

Which, by the way, were discovered by the sweet-toothed imperialist on one of his regular jaunts around Europe. Not that the average brain-dead Brexiter would know that, their experience of Yasmin’s ‘multifarious, sophisticated Europe’ limited to booze-cruises and Benidorm.

Alas, it’s not just the working-class and their entitled view of Europe as a ‘hedonistic playground’ that annoys Yasmin: it’s the fact that they keep putting dog-shit through her letter box. Or rather, one or two of them once did which is pretty much the same thing. Indeed, the working-class – in particular the white ones – have contrived to make Yasmin’s life a living hell since she arrived here from Idi Amin’s charming Uganda in the ‘70s. It’s frankly remarkable that she has remained in such a hell-hole all this time.

But leaving would have been too easy. For Yasmin has spent the last forty years on a one-woman mission to kick Britain’s white working-class into shape. Which she is still achieving by writing increasingly hysterical columns about how ghastly they all are.

Indeed, in a seminal 2009 piece she used her extensive knowledge of people she doesn’t know to castigate the working-class as ‘stupid’, ‘vicious’ and ‘always wretched and complaining’, no faint praise from a wretched woman who spends every stupid column complaining viciously. And from pondering how great it would be if ‘white men just went away’ to boasting that she ‘dislikes’ white people and wants them to be ‘a lost species’, Yasmin has long been living proof that the best people to lecture on racism are racists.

Happily, despite the horror of blue passports and ‘shops full of pies and chips’ Yasmin proved she was made of stern stuff on The Wright Stuff last Thursday, debating her old adversary Nigel Farage in the calm, principled manner we expect: shouting, interrupting and moping in the corner with her arms folded like a sulky teenager,

And this came hot on the heels of an equally measured performance alongside evil libertarian Brendan O’Neill on Sky News a week earlier, in which Yasmin shouted, interrupted and waved her arms around in the corner like a sulky teenager. And people say the modern left aren’t consistent.

Needless to say, she was brutally attacked on social media for both appearances, but had the last laugh when official statistics released by Twitter confirmed her victimhood levels were booming. Which, when all is said and done, is what it’s all about.

Who’s the ‘stupid little girl’ now, Nige?

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