Last weekend I climbed Mount Snowdon.
It was a perfect mid-September day, the sky was a deep azure, sheep grazed peacefully even on the steepest inclines and on the air, the subtlest hint of sea air could be ascertained. I’m not much of a climber but I do like to walk, and Snowdon is simply one of the most glorious walks to be had in the British Isles, especially on a day like that.
Thousands of other people clearly thought so too because the place was heaving. Each and every path to the summit was thronged with a steady stream of walkers of all ages and multitudinous accents, which is unsurprising given that it’s a major tourist attraction.
What was slightly more surprising was how many people there were with British accents who were… how can one put this politely nowadays? Oh, you can’t – they were Asian.
This is not an article about how immigrants have ruined the country.
About 30-40 percent of the young people I saw trekking up and down were groups of Asian boys and girls, and frankly good luck to them. Wales truly is a beautiful country and I’m glad that people from across the world want to come and live in Britain and spend their Saturdays doing something as positive and wholesome as traipsing up mountains when they could be in the shopping arcades or on their PlayStations. And there were groups of young white British kids too doing the same. Goodness knows it takes an awful lot of existential optimism nowadays to get up at 5am to drive from Basildon to Wales for nothing more than a pair of aching legs and a warm glow inside, so I wish them all the luck in the world too.
Because it could have worked, you know. This idea that Britain could be an ark for the world’s oppressed, a real rainbow nation where British people of all ethnic backgrounds could live, united by their love for freedom and unity, it could have happened. And sometimes, like last Saturday on the summit of Snowdon, it does. And when it does, it is beautiful.
But mostly it doesn’t, and won’t, because the people who foisted mass immigration upon us didn’t really want that magical country of unity. No, they wanted to rub our noses in diversity, and rub they did.
You see, a country can arrive at ethnic diversity in one of two ways. It can write for itself a set of ideals and moral values to which it vows to adhere, before throwing open its doors to anyone who shares in those values and wishes to embody them. That’s America. It doesn’t always work, but that’s the idea at least.
Or it can decide that the ideals and moral values that made it great are worthless and invite in strangers who want to replace them with their own. That’s Britain in the 21st century, and it’s bloody awful.
The real tragedy of mass immigration is not rising house prices, over-subscribed schools and a groaning NHS. It’s not even anti-Islam marches or Brexit, both of which are vestigial assertions of a perfectly legitimate belief in British cultural and moral superiority.
No, it’s the loss of faith that the British people have suffered in themselves, and the subsequent abandonment of the qualities that made us great in the first place that’s the real calamity.
The rise of racism is a prime example. Historically, Britain was never a racist nation. For example, in June 1942 there was public outcry in Bath when four black GIs stationed in the area were refused service in a pub. One resident wrote to the Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette stating: “These men have been sent to this country to help in its defence, and whatever their race or creed they should be entitled to the same treatment as our own soldiers.” Her sentiments were echoed widely among the general public.
In the same month a riot kicked off in Lancashire when white Military Police began harassing black GIs – and the locals leapt to the defence of the black servicemen.
British government officials rejected a request by the US Army that the 130,000 black troops stationed in Britain be formally separated from their white colleagues, fearing voters would see the policy as ‘un-British’, although civil servants, concerned over a backlash from American troops, nonetheless introduced a de-facto policy of separation by encouraging the local population not to fraternise with the black soldiers. Then, as today, civil servants did not have the measure of the country at large.
American journalist Linda Hervieux, who has written a book on the episode, has commented: “Given the racial tensions that exist in Britain today, as in other countries, it is hard to believe that the UK was once a relative racial paradise for African Americans. Britons were willing to open their hearts and minds to fellow human beings who were there to help them.
“Their efforts extended beyond mere hospitality. True and deep friendships developed, some of which endured long after the war. Although Britons suffered through vicious bombings that ravaged the country and extreme privation, they never forgot basic human kindness.”
How galling then that the basic human kindness present in the British people in abundance, and which could not be extinguished by German bombs, has been so utterly snubbed out by the selfish individualism foisted upon us by the political classes ever since.
By the left, who see everyone as merely an avatar of whichever socioeconomic group they are assigned to, in order to play each individual off every other in a perpetual race to the bottom.
And by the right, who see everyone as nothing more than the sum total of their economic worth, forever grappling together in a commercial headlock.
The inevitable outcome is a nation which has never been wealthier, better fed and more pampered, and yet in which racism is rife. One only has to peruse social media for a few moments to see ghastly racism in abundance on all sides, for while the posh Waitrose set are busy white-shaming and subjecting coloured people to the tyranny of low expectations (not to mention their overt antisemitism), the ordinary folk of Britain have – possibly for the first time ever – abandoned their historical magnamity and are instead turning their backs on the rest of the world.
It is not unusual now to see, in so called ‘patriotic’ social media groups, memes laughing at women and children drowning in the Mediterranean Sea, or shrugging their shoulders at the unfortunate victims of Islamic regimes. “Not our problem, guv” has become the go-to response whenever some international disaster strikes, moreso if it’s the result of corrupt regimes.
The generosity of spirit which once characterised the British people has been beaten out of them – their noses have been rubbed raw by the left, and the only solace offered by the right were the cheap thrills of package holidays and new white goods.
And it was there, in that moment in which we reached out for those material consolation prizes, that our country was lost.
A nation can withstand head-on attack. It can withstand bombs and guns. It can even withstand defeat by an invading force as long as its people remember who they are. But a nation will not stand if her people forget what it was that made them great in the first place.
We have reached that point. And there may be no going back. God help us all.