1 Context
The rise of anti-Islamic protest and the evolution of the UK Far Right
Introduction
Post-Brexit, the UK far right suddenly launched itself back into media attention and newspaper headlines. Following the murder of Batley and Spen MP Jo Cox, there was a renewed crackdown on this particular form of extremism â starting with a court injunction against Britain First (York 15th August 2016) and culminating in the proscription of National Action in December 2016 (BBC News 12th December 2016). Related to this, there was also a spike in xenophobic attacks and hate crime â seeing a 41% increase in the immediate aftermath of Britain voting to leave the European Union (BBC News 15th February 2017). Many people would expect such an environment to be fortuitous for such a fringe political movement.
As we explore in this chapter of the book, however, the UK far right has been continuing to struggle to find relevance ever since the implosion of the neo-fascist British National Party at the 2010 General Election. In what follows we, first, sketch the emergence and development of the UK historic far right. Second, we bring this analysis up-to-date â outlining how the UK far right has morphed and changed more recently. What will be argued is that, since the BNPâs implosion in 2010, the organised UK far right has experienced a process of fragmentation and re-orientation back towards a more direct action, âvigilante-styleâ form of politics. This has seen the UK far- right shift into a more criminal and crowded marketplace of methods and ideas. First, however, we will sketch the all-important international context that has informed the rise of anti-Islamic protest in the UK â looking at the transnational movements that have helped to grow such activism over the past two decades.
The rise of anti-Islamic protest: âcounter-jihadâ and transnational far-right activism
The origins of contemporary anti-Islamic activism on the far right started in the 1980s but gained substantial momentum after the 11th September 2001 terror attacks in the United States. Starting on the internet but then quickly transitioning itself into party-political election campaigns, the Twin Tower attacks gave momentum to Huntingtonâs âClash of Civilisationsâ thesis and the notion of a Christianised Western culture being under attack from the barbarians at the gate (i.e. the Muslim community), post-9/11. As JosĂ© ZĂčquete (2008: 322) points out, switching from anti-Semitism, Islam has become the ânew enemyâ of the far right as well as a key object of popular racist sentiment from the so-called liberal centre.
One notable feature of recent far-right campaigns over the last two decades has therefore been the frequency of their anti-Islamic tenor. Looking back as far as 2001, for example, the BNPâs former chairman, Nick Griffin, started his own âCampaign Against Islamâ in September 2001 that aimed to normalise Islam as a supposedly âevil and wicked faithâ (Copsey 2008: 166). Moreover, in 2006, Filip Dewinter, former leader of the Flemish Vlaams Belang, doubled his partyâs council representation by turning away from anti-Semitism and towards anti-Muslim stance (Betz 2008: 105). A month later, Geert Wildersâ Dutch Party for Freedom scored a Parliamentary breakthrough on a âlargely nativist platform designed to stop the Tsunami of Islamisationâ (ibid.: 111). Finally, in November 2009, the Swiss Peopleâs Party campaigned successfully for a ban on minarets, suggesting that Islam had an overriding political identity that made it unconstitutional (ibid.: 113).
As well as becoming more frequent, anti-Islamic campaigns by the European far right have also become more co-ordinated and transnational. In early 2009, for example, a group of leading extreme right politicians met âto devise strategies to impede ⊠the advance of Islam in Europeâ (Betz 2013: 74) as part of the âCities against Islamizationâ initiative. This provided not only a basis of contact between leading anti-Islamic politicians, but also the space to develop an âideological foundation and justificationâ for campaigns against symbols and aspects of Islamâs alleged encroachment into Western Europeâs liberal democratic societies (ibid.: 75). Indeed, it pioneered the approach of looking upon the building of mosques as a form of conquest and the idea that Islam is a political ideology whose adherents are inherently anti-integrationist (ibid.). Moreover, and as demonstrated by the successful formation of far-right European Parliamentary grouping âEurope of Nations and Freedomâ in June 2015, it served as a platform for the diffusion of other non-Islamic campaigning norms, ideas and campaign tactics that can be diffused between nations.
Not all prominent extreme right parties have been so quick to adopt an anti-Islamic stance, however. Until Marine Le Pen became leader in January 2011, the Front National (FN) in France stayed in an ambiguous position towards the Islamic question (ibid.: 76). This was because Jean-Marie Le Pen saw Islam as a distraction from the main issue that she wished her party to continue campaigning on: immigration. Moreover, the creation of an FN splinter faction, the Mouvement National Republicain, in 1999 absorbed more hard-line racialists with anti-Islamic views (Betz 2008: 115). Finally, Franceâs historical ties to North Africa and the case of former Algerian nationals who had fought for France gave Islam a special semi-protected status within the party (ibid.). This has, however, obviously shifted more recently â with current leader Le Pen likening Muslims praying in the street to the Nazi occupation (Sims 15th December 2015) and highlighting Muslim immigration as a âgrave threatâ to France during the 2012 Presidential Elections (Al Jazeera 17th December 2012).
The coherence of messages the contemporary extreme right parties use against Islam and Muslim minorities is such that we can already talk of four predominant discourses on the subject. These are echoed in discourse, tactics and narratives of the EDL and Britain First. The first is the growing relevance of Christian narratives and motifs, with a particular âemphasis on âChristian identityâ of âoriginal communities,â who are now [viewed as] endangered by the advance of Islam across Europeâ (ZĂčquetĂ© 2008: 326). The second is a âdiscursive shift in many of these [extreme right parties] to a decidedly pro-Jewish direction.â For example, Vlaams Belangâs Filip Dewinter describes Judaism as a ânatural allyâ in Europe and Israel as âthe only nation with freedom of speech, freedom of religion and rule of lawâ in the Middle East (ibid.: 328). The third are âpost-nationalist dynamics and argumentsâ that suggest that all Europeans are gradually being subordinated by the encroachment of Islamic governance (ibid.: 331). The final discursive device is to use positions considered to be âexclusive to progressive and feminist groups in the West.â For example, that head scarves are a form of female oppression or that halal is a form of animal cruelty (ibid.: 332).
In recent years, the move towards anti-Islamic politics by extreme right parties has also been accompanied by the growth of more shadowy and informal transnational network of actors, the so-called counter-jihad movement. The sole purpose of this new âpan-European far right movementâ is not to win elections but to âcombat the perceived threat of âIslamizationâ through European-wide protestsâ as well as âawareness and advocacy campaignsâ (Meleagrou-Hitchens and Brun 2013: 1). Like the party-political manifestation of anti-Islam campaigns, it is âvehemently against anti-Semitismâ and (at least strategically) holds a âliberal [and progressive] positionâ on various social and political issues in order to construct a supposedly unenlightened and regressive Muslim âOtherâ (Archer 2013: 181).
Scholars posit that this new, social movement turn in far-right anti-Islamic politics started in 2007 at conferences by activists and bloggers in Copenhagen and Brussels (Archer 2013: 180; Meleagrou-Hitchens and Brun 2013: 18; Mulhall 2016), with greater formalisation occurring in 2012. Key themes identified within its rhetoric include that belief that âstrict sharia imposed in countries such as Saudi Arabia, or by extremist groups like the Taliban in Afghanistan⊠, is integral to Islamâ (Meleagrou-Hitchens and Brun 2013: 42). It also asserts that Islam is an aggressive and un-reformed religion â with the logical outcome of Muslim immigration being imminent civil war (ibid.: 43).
The movement has been divided between more populist and radical elements (Berntzen and Sandberg 2014: 4). The former encompasses the blogs of Pamela Geller and Robert Spencer, Atlas Shrugs and Jihad Watch, rhetoric of populist radical-right parties and âcounter-jihadâ umbrella groups such as Stop Islamisation of Europe and America. They emphasise the âdichotomy of the people versus the Elite, and warn ⊠against the âIslamizationâ of societyâ (ibid.). The latter encompasses the various other European âdefence leaguesâ (such as the Norwegian, Danish and Finnish Defence Leagues) and anti-Islamic social movements (such as the Soldiers of Odin and PEGIDA) that adopt more direct action tactics, include groups with more overt support for violent measures, and subscribe to some of the wilder conspiracy theories (proposed by blogger Fjordman and writer Bat Yeâor), which suggest that âpolitical and cultural elites have entered into a secret partnership with the Muslim Brotherhood and other Islamistsâ (ibid.).
Though nebulous, the significance of this new transnational far-right movement cannot be underestimated. It has provided the inspiration for both one of the most horrific terrorist attacks in recent years and other forms of anti-Islamic protest across the European continent. It was this extremist milieu that provided an important influence on Anders Behring Breivik, a Norwegian lone-wolf terrorist who killed 77 people in a murderous rampage on 22nd July 2011 (Goodwin et al. 2016: 5). His 1,518-page manifesto, 2083: A European Declaration of Independence, contains partial reproductions of materials found on self-styled âcounter-jihadistâ blogs such as the âGates of Vienna,â named after the Siege of Vienna by the Ottoman Empire in 1529 (Berntzen and Sandberg 2014: 14). Moreover, the rhetoric contained within original sections of Breivikâs manifesto are remarkably similar to more radical sections of the âcounter-jihadâ movement online (ibid.: 10).
Finally, and most importantly, it was in this online environment that the EDL and later Britain First came about. Paul Ray, a BNP supporter and native of Luton, âbegan blogging in 2007 with a strong anti-Islam focus that was inspired by the growing Counter-Jihad movement in the United Statesâ (Meleagrou-Hitchens and Brun 2013: 9). He went on to be a formative member of the EDL in 2009 and founded some of the key themes of the group, including the idea of a pan-Islamic war against the West, Islamisation, state and media complicity in the influence of Islam, and the problematic role of Muslim migrants in British society (ibid.: 10). Moreover, Britain First has picked up and perpetuated the more âChristianâ elements of the European âcounter-jihadâ movement â performing âChristian Patrols,â giving Bibles out in mosques and provocatively asking Muslims to âturn away from the false prophet [i.e. Mohammed] and embrace the saviour Jesus Christâ (York 2nd March 2016). As we will now see, this has also been part of a new turn in UK far-right activism.
From ugly duckling to mainstream threat: focussing in on Britainâs historical far right
Every year, the anti-fascist organisation Hope not Hate publishes what it calls a âState of Hateâ report. Contained within it is a snapshot of how the UK far right has fared in the previous year. Fortunately for us, this usually contains a review of the parlous state of affairs within this fringe political movement. Another splintering, fragmentation or falling out, for example, it sets out to highlight the successes and failures of the movement and any exceptional developments that have happened â based on the monitoring work of one the UKâs leading anti-fascist groups.
Hope not Hateâs 2015 report was, however, exceptionally glum in its interpretation of where the UK far right is headed. â[P]olitically marginalised, fractured, leaderless and increasingly violent,â the report suggested, Britainâs far right is now more âisolated and in retreatâ than at any point over the past twenty years â âbecoming more extreme and violentâ in the process (Hope not Hate 7th February 2016). This has had the effect, not just of moving the far right onto the UKâs streets, but also transitioning the UK far right into the more pernicious (and criminal space) of online and offline anti-Muslim protests and attacks â accounting for two-fifths of all incidents in the year 2013â2014 (Feldman and Littler July 2014: 3). To discount the UK far right, therefore, would be to miss out on some clearly key trends bubbling under the surface of this particular form of extremist politics and echoes the mood of the 1990s scholarship on these types of groups, which suggested that Britain was somehow âexceptionalâ in resisting the throes of right-wing extremism.
Before the electoral rise of the BNP in the early-mid 2000s, one key trope within the UK literature on the far right was its abject failure to make any appreciable impact on UK electoral politics. In his 1996 chapter in a co-edited book about the âFailure of British Fascism,â for example, political historian Roger Griffin likened the UK far right to an âugly ducklingâ when compared to some of its continental cousins. Limited by a political cultural consensus in the UK around âmoderation, a hatred of fanaticism, an aversion to demagogy, uniforms and overt racismâ (Goodwin 2007: 242), this particular political movement has been left to âscratch around indefinitely without ever coming out as a swanâ (Griffin 1996: 163).
The first major manifestation of the UK far right was Oswald Mosleyâs British Union of Fascists (BUF) in the 1930s. Led by a former Labour Minister and given support by the (then) owner of the Daily Mail, Lord Rothermere, the BUF believed in anti-communism and protectionism as well as replacing the Parliamentary democracy with a strong state and leader reminiscent of Mussoliniâs Italy. Mosleyâs Blackshirts had around 50,000 members at their peak in 1934, but establishment support swiftly declined after a rally in Olympia in the same year that saw anti-fascists âforcefully ejectedâ (Copsey 2000: 16). The BUF was mainly a protest-based movement, however, and with the onset of World War II was eventually proscribed in 1940.
The next major manifestation of far-right extremism in the UK was the Union Movement (UM). Again, another brainchild of Oswald Mosley after his detainment and eight-year exile from party politics in 1948, its ideology only slightly diverged from its predecessor, the BUF. Taking Mosleyâs 1947 text The Alternative as its guide, the party argued for closer integration between European nations as a counterbalance to Americanism on the one hand and Bolshevism on the other (Poole 1996: 69). Underlying this more mainstream façade was, however, a more radical critique of liberal democracy and its replacement with a strong executive and government by referenda. Due to the fragmented nature of the far right at the time and the strong effect of World War II, the UM did not gain much traction; membership peaked at 1,500 members and Mosley only secured 8.1% of vote when contesting the Parliamentary seat of Kensington North in 1959 â a result described by one historian as an âabject failureâ (ibid.: 64).
Subsequent to the decline of the Union Movement, the British far-right scene entered into somewhat of a hinterland until the creation of the National Front in 1967. For example, in 1954, A.K. Chesterton, who had been the leading intellectual force behind the BUF, formed the League of Empire Loyalists (LEL). As it name suggests, the LEL chose to oppose the dissolution of the British Empire that it saw as tantamount to treason (Thurlow 1998: 221). In a more sinister vein, however, the group also viewed Bolshevism and capitalism as part of Jewish-led conspiracy by the establishment. Symptomatic of the fragmented nature of the UK far right at the time, however, the LEL was a largely minor and ineffectual political outfit that had âlittle impact on the electorateâ (ibid.). Despite performing a series of high-level publicity stunts between 1955 and 1961, the party only secured 1,064 votes at 1964 General Election. Shortly after, it ran into financial difficulties and collapsed.
Not perturbed by this period of abject failure, A.K. Chesterton went on to help unify the UK far right under the banner of the National Front. Set up to oppose immigration and multiculturalist policies of the first Wilson government (1964â1970), it received spikes in electoral support in 1972 and 1976 when Ugandan and Malawian Asians fled to the ...