BY JAMES BEMBRIDGE
Did Thursday’s vote truly mark a seismic shift in British politics or merely reflect one that had occurred long ago?
For now we bask in the spoils of victory, most prized amongst them being the look on Rumplecuckskin, John Bercow, as it dawned on him that his dream of a second referendum would remain forever thus. Oh to see hopelessness so visceral that it had the air of snuff films about it. Now, being double Venus, I’m not one for depriving a man of his pleasure. So by all means light that cigar and pour a fist full of cognac to boot, but lest we forget the crimes that those quisling bastards subjected us to along the way.
After the Brexit referendum, there was talk amongst our cultured class to build a wall around London so as to preserve its moral purity from the great swathes of ignorance now revealed to lay outside it. Labour councillor, Peter John, said it was a ‘legitimate question for London to consider its place in the UK’. You may think he meant to reflect upon how it could be that the London remainiac bubble was so out of touch from the rest of Britain’s citizenry. Ah, but I know the Country Squire reader is too astute to entertain such naivety. He was of course referencing a 180,000 strong petition sent to the London Mayor, Sadiq Khan, demanding that the capital city be transformed into a ‘city state’ based on the model of Singapore.
Unfortunately, none of this came to pass and we country folk still have to suffer the occasional intrepid liberal luvvie that finds themselves expunged from the great arse of vibrant and fluid excrement that we may still call our capital.
You can spot them a mile away as there is a kind of archetype to these loathsome sourdough munchers: blue shirt and jacket, sans tie, first two buttons undone and thick framed ‘quirky’ glasses complete the look. Oh, and that self-righteous smirk they so often wear.
Seen to be an ostensibly working class phenomenon, attempts were made by said luvvies to better understand the working man and his motivation to deprive London of her low-paid Eastern European nannies. It was proposed that they may be angry at something, poverty perhaps. A modish notion for bored, philanthropic, middle class housewives to pontificate on in their North London fundraising soirees; a notion, however, entirely at odds with what voters were saying in the more humble environment of the tradesman cafe. Northern leave voters would seldom mention poverty as the principle reason for their vote, indeed, if economy was ever referenced then it was in relation to being undercut on manual labour by Polish workers. It seemed that for many leave voters, Brexit was about identity – and more to the point, the feeling that they had been deprived of one.
There is a reason why that ubiquitous phrase ‘diverse’ elicits suspicion amongst anyone fortunate enough to live in the areas which are undoubtedly enriched by its presence. Back in 1997 when the ‘New Labour’ project began, it was recognised that the working class could no longer be relied on to be the servile drones they once were (many had previously voted for Thatcher, after all). Thanks to Blair’s former adviser, Andrew Neather, it is now common knowledge that the former Prime Minister ‘opened the floodgates to mass immigration’ but forbade his ministers from mentioning a word of it. It was to be a secret project to ‘rub the right’s nose in diversity’. Well how queer, if he did indeed mean to subject ‘the right’ to all the seven wonders of the world then you might have thought he would send these vibrant cherubs to the prosperous and Conservative voting provinces. Instead, Blair housed the new citizens in the low wage economy Labour heartlands of the North. Some say this was purely a cynical ploy to import Labour votes. I put it that it could partly have been motivated by the London intelligentsia’s revulsion to the mediocrity of the indigenous masses and their vulgar obsession with mass produced plastic products. People from South Asia were seen to be more at one with nature and thus more pure, as documented in E. M. Fosters book ‘A Passage to India’. It is unsurprising, then that Extinction Rebellion are predominantly comprised of the privileged metropolitan elite.
To some, multiculturalism marked, if not an end, then certainly a challenge to traditional working class culture. But when lifelong Labour voters voiced concerns about immigration, as Gillian Duffy infamously did to Gordon Brown in 2010, they would be duly reminded that it is not for them to hold ideas such as identity or belonging . At least Gordon Brown had the decency to only call council worker, Ms. Duffy, a ‘bigoted woman’ when he was sure to be out of earshot, in his Jaguar.
The London cultured class sought to differentiate themselves from the proletariat by adopting the new identity of ‘European’, sometimes broadened out to be ‘citizens of the World’. In reclaiming our identity with Brexit, we have in turn deprived the elite of theirs.
Whilst the working class revolt that was Brexit aroused incredulity amongst the liberal elite, to openly express their contempt was not immediately socially acceptable, so they sought to phrase it as being a ‘Bankers’ Brexit’. Bankers being the proverbial villain in the left’s simplistic narrative which sees Britain as a Dickensian squalor and the working class romanticised into noble peasants, underdogs to be championed against the banking bogyman.
This idealistic depiction of the working class as peasants or miners (despite them having long since been closed) is the left’s attempt to sympathise with those with whom they cannot. To them, there is something divine in being destitute and ridding oneself of the capitalist consumerism enjoyed by the herd. The soot on the miner purifies him like the ashen cross administered to sinners by men of holy orders. Oliver Twist elicits sympathy to the privileged metropolitan, unlike the reactionary tabloid reader, the lad-mag buying larger drinker, or worse still: the Brexit voter.
When Governor of the Bank of England, Mark Carney, joined in with the project fear campaign and this ‘banker’s Brexit’ stuff was shown to be the potent tripe that it was, the narrative then became that leave voters were dense and credulous infants swindled by lies on a big shiny red bus. They didn’t, nor could they have known what they were voting for.
For some, morbid curiosity got the better of them, no more so than Guardian columnist, Polly Toynbee, who feverishly typed out articles speculating – with increasing macabre glee – how many elderly leave voters had died since the referendum and just how high the morbidity rate could possibly be. High enough to swing another referendum? ‘The true “will of the people” looks considerably more questionable if it turns out to be the will of dead people’, She opined. It would perhaps be remiss of me not to mention that Polly is herself a lady of 72 years.
But the problem for death-watchers like Polly was that Brexit voters simply weren’t dying quickly enough. With polls showing that the attitudes to Brexit lay flintily stagnant, a new idea was proposed which gained considerable traction, and one that is still prevalent within remain circles to this day: why not just ban leave voters from using the NHS?
These events I document are just some of the most egregious examples of the scornful contempt offered to the decent, hard-working man who believes in his country.
I want to thank Lady Nugee and Dawn Butler, without whom none of this would have been possible. The clip of them cackling at the credulity of the deplorable leave voters surely played no small part in Labour heartlands showing them the proverbial finger at the ballot box.
Never in my lifetime have I felt such pride for Britain and her ‘deplorable masses‘. Now is the time to unleash Britain’s full potential, unshackled from the bureaucratic chains of the EU. For the first time in three years we can now be certain that we will indeed get Brexit, but let us never forget the horrors that it unveiled. Unbridled and dauntless contempt displayed towards the working class by those who think themselves to be people of refined sensibility and undoubtedly ‘on the right side of history’. Contempt towards the masses so potent that it would be worthy of Nietzsche. Well, if you aim to take on the masses, then might I suggest you don’t do it in the form of an election when the only winner can, by definition, be chosen by the mass.