Hate My Life in the British Far Right
1980s Britain. On council estates, in pubs and at football matches across the country the belligerent sentiments of a few hundred lonely white men grew stronger and more virulent day by day, almost unnoticed…
This tiny minority had grand designs. Fuelled by alcohol and violence, they built a party that would go on to hold seats in council chambers across England and in the European Parliament. And when it seemed that no one was listening and that there was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, the far right offered an alluring escape from boredom and mediocrity.
But what do you do when you realise that the hatred haunting you – from the pub to the ballot box – stems from your own demons? When everything you know and believe crashes down around you in a hail of fists and boots, flying chairs and broken glass? The answer: you switch sides.