QUESTION: Who would you most trust to defend Britain’s sovereignty? Prime Minister David Cameron, or head of the armed forces, General Sir David Richards?
If you paused to think about that, then we have a problem. But I’ll bet a few of you did. For me, it was a no-brainer.
Put Nick Clegg or Ed Miliband into that equation, and frankly I’d rather have the head of the Egyptian army rolling his tanks down Whitehall – yes the bloke who’s just launched a coup in Cairo – than either of those quislings in charge.
General Sir David Richards cut his teeth on three tours of Northern Ireland, served all over the world and before commanding Nato forces in southern Afghanistan, was credited with turning a rescue mission of British nationals in Sierra Leone into an unsanctioned – but successful – defence of the capital Freetown from rebel forces. Tony Blair, not surprisingly, took the credit for that. Fancy, politicians riding on soldiers’ backs, eh? Nelson, Kitchener, Wellington and Monty all knew that feeling well enough.
Of course we don’t need a coup in Britain, because we have a mature, effective democracy, don’t we?
I think the evidence of the past five years is quite the reverse; no, we have fallen either asleep or in love with the somnolent fantasy that we are a beacon of democratic transparency. We’re not.
The selfish principles of corruption, deceit, nepotism and protectionism are as ingrained in every area of British power and influence, as they are in Egypt, in Syria, in China or Russia.
The difference is only a matter of scale. Power-abusers caught out in those countries get a bullet or a jail cell; here they get a fat cheque and a pension.
In Egypt, Syria and even increasingly Russia, people take to the streets; we take afternoon tea, while perfecting a long-suffering British sigh. Everything will turn out fine, it generally does…
But wait, you say – all politicians have to ascend the greasy pole of democracy, don’t they?
No, actually. This pampered, hand-picked political elite, from the entire families of Boris Johnson and the Milibands, to unelectable but ‘anointed’ good luck charms like Sayeeda Warsi, are catapulted up that pole on the back of worker ants.
Committed grassroots politicians like Khizar Iqbal and Martyn Bolt got nowhere within the selection process for the local Tory seat. Labour look like imposing a Muslim woman on Dewsbury for 2015.
That’s democracy, is it?
After a cursory fashion, I suppose, if you squint hard enough, put your fingers in your ears and sing dum-de-dum-de-dum.
When you are ‘in’, you’re ‘in’ to stay and the trapdoor is pulled up behind the fortunate few, from Westminster to Kirklees, from the NHS to the BBC. I have a challenge for you. Name me a British institution not wreathed in financial or mismanagement scandals in recent years.
The BBC should be broken up. It has betrayed its founding principles and is a get-rich-quick residence for Oxbridge insiders. Even in disgrace they are richly rewarded by their own. Why? Because the people signing the cheques will want the same when they’re found out.
You can’t expect politicians to do anything about it because they operate by the self-same principle. Me first, my mates next, and you lot just do as you’re told.
The banks? The city? Ditto. NHS and police? We haven’t room to even start on that lot. Even bodies elevated to a higher plane to monitor them like the Care Quality Commission are rancid.
I’m reading a series of internal communications obtained from Kirklees Council under Freedom of Information legislation, and it is one big walking, talking nest of vipers, run by a tight-knit elite who’s primary purpose is to cover each other’s backs first, tick PC boxes second, and try to keep the rest of us quiet, third and last.
Indeed my worry is that voices like Nigel Farage and UKIP will serve only to distract us, to maintain the illusion of a working democracy.
Give me the generals, any day. Our own corrupt house is in need of sorting.
I DON’T know what hold the good old Sheikh of Savile Town, Abdul Patel, has over the leader of Kirklees Council, Mehboob Khan.
Does he have embarrassing photographs or documents which could seriously embarrass the Labour chief?
If Abdul was any more fireproof he could sub himself out on contract to Red Adair. Mind you, with as many pies as Abdul has fingers in, time might be a bit on the short side.
Abdul Patel, his friends and family, were all embroiled in the alleged postal vote fraud in last year’s local elections. He derides Kirklees’ pathetic officer class and their beseeching pleas for some form of settlement over the fortunes he made with his Muslim graveyard business – nearly a year on, not a penny paid back.
The Crown Prosecution Service have sat on the evidence of his failure to keep a legally binding burial register for so long that it’s a wonder it hasn’t hatched. Maybe that’s the plan – keep kicking actions and decisions into the long grass until it either goes away, or ‘evidence’ to clear the suspects conveniently turns up. What the hell is his secret?
And now his involvement in a planning controversy is waved away in cursory fashion by Abdul’s guardian angel, Mehboob Khan.
Tell me. How the hell does your name make its way onto a formal objection against a planning application, without you knowing? Abdul Patel’s did, and then he denied it in print.
Indeed, reading the detail of the objection into his neighbour’s extension, it states that the councillor and Mr Musa both objected on specific grounds, and Mr Musa on additional grounds.
How do you accidentally contrive something so deliberate? I’ll tell you how. You re-invent the truth.
Not surprisingly Coun Patel won’t talk to us, so it was over to Coun Khan to say that his name got on the objection by mistake. No explanation how, just a blithe ‘go away’.
And now Abdul’s name is linked with troubled Birkenshaw Post Office which shut down when its Dewsbury-based sub-postmaster Khayyam Ishaq was jailed for a £17,000 stamp fraud. Abdul listed himself as a temporary postmaster there in his Council Register of Interests.
There’s no suggestion Coun Patel is involved in the fraud in any way, but boy, doesn’t trouble seem to follow him around? Must just be unlucky...
THERE are so many things wrong about the NHS paying nearly five grand to give an unmarried mother of two a set of 36DDs, that I hardly know where to start.
Does the bloke who rubber-stamped this get first dabs with a gander and a quick feel – after all Josie Cunningham ‘aspires’ to be a topless model. Presumably that’s part and parcel of her new career.
We could spend all day listing ways that money should be better spent rather than turn a single mum into more of a slapper than she may or may not already be – she wants to be like Jordan, apparently, which ought to automatically disqualify anyone from such a procedure to start with.
Looking at her photos however raises a pretty basic question: how do you get to be a supermodel when you’ve a face like a freshly slapped backside?
Wasn’t it beholden upon someone involved in this to make a judgement – quite apart from the moral vacuity – on the likelihood of a successful outcome? You can put a saddle on a cow, but it’s still not going to win the Grand National.
Miss Cunningham, a perfect example of today’s ‘fame’ generation, duly got her new top wotsits out for the cameras and, surprise surprise, they looked like a £2.99 plastic set you’d buy from a novelty store on Blackpool prom. They’re enough to put Hugh Hefner off boobs for life.
She’s lathered in tattoos that look like they were done by a five-year-old with a felt tip pen.
Still, when she gets laughed all the way home, there’ll probably be a claim against the NHS for allowing her to become an object of ridicule.
As for the NHS, it’s already way beyond that.