It seems almost to be a national characteristic of the British chap that if ever there is a fight to be fought he will, more often than not, pitch in with the losing side.
I have been reading George Orwell’s “The Road to Wigan Pier” these last few days and have been struck by just how similar in many ways the Britain of the 1930’s is so similar to our own today. The separation of the ‘working class’ from the ‘bourgoisie’, the considerable disparity between their relative incomes and living conditions, and the utter cynicism of the ruling classes. The only thing that has really changed is the lexicon describing the participants in the game.
Back to my opening sentence; my initial response is to side with the underdog – but, with advancing years and a healthy dose of realism self-administered through the decades, I realise that any efforts thus expended will not make a button bit of difference. Indeed, in eighty-four years time (the distance between the date of Wigan Pier’s publication and today) I rather suspect that my great-grandchild will be making a similar observation on whatever passes for internet communication in 2104.
But the Red Mist descends when I read of the latest disgraceful activities of the great and the good, supposedly on our behalf – and the treatment of Julian Assange in Belmarsh Magistrate’s Court these last few days, for example, (https://www.craigmurray.org.uk/archives/2020/02/your-man-in-the-public-gallery-the-assange-hearing-day-3/ refers) is as splendid a refutation as one may ask of the statement that British Justice is a fine institution and the envy of all. It is not and we are, to all intents and purposes, living in a banana republic. What really bothers me is the utter confidence these people have that they can get away with this sort of behaviour.
I will be retiring soon; I intend to spend a bit more time pursuing the creatures who seek to make our lives a little bit worse while improving their own petty existences.