Latest news with #Stasi
The Sun
3 days ago
- Lifestyle
- The Sun
The bin incident at my flat that made me realise Bossy Britain is everywhere and why it's only likely to get much worse
WHEN did Britain get so bossy? We are meant to be the land of freedom and liberty. 5 Our Parliament is the oldest in the world. We chopped the head off our king when he got too big for his boots and ruled as an autocrat. And we fought and won two world wars against tyranny. But now we have become a nation oppressed by the tentacles of the nanny state. You cannot walk down the street without being confronted by some hi-vis-wearing sergeant major of officialdom barking orders at you. David Hockney, Britain's greatest living artist, has a campaign to End Bossiness Soon. He was going to name it End Bossiness Now, but thought that was too bossy. I applaud his mission — it is one we should all take up. Recently, bossy Britain came to my doorstep. The company that manages my block of flats sent us all a letter. It showed CCTV photos of people caught red-handed accidentally putting the wrong rubbish into the wrong bins. Keir says 'woman is an adult female' & insists he's 'pleased' by court trans ruling after years of woke dithering The implication was clear: They should be hanged, drawn and quartered for their terrible crime. Hot on its heels was another email containing incriminating photos of doggy paw prints on the communal stairs. The guilty culprit should immediately fetch a bucket of soapy water, get on their hands and knees and scrub, the memo suggested. This level of intrusive curtain-twitching would make the Stasi wince. Bossy Britain is everywhere. The other day, I was getting my train into work when a furious-sounding man began shouting through the station Tannoy. 'Stand clear of the brushes at the edge of the escalator . . . for your own safety!', he thundered, with such alarm that he could have been announcing a nuclear warhead was about to hit us in the next 60 seconds. Fierce and terrifying Is this really necessary? I mean, how many lives have been tragically cut short because an ankle has been gently tickled by a few escalator brushes? Bossy Britain is in the Covid-era signs still telling us to stick to 'social distance' rules four years after lockdowns ended. It is in the stomach-churning calorie counts that are now on every menu at restaurants. It is in the notices that tell kids they cannot play with balls in the communal gardens of their own blocks of flats. Bossy Britain hectors, intimidates and tries to make us feel bad. And it has already claimed victims. The sugar tax on soft drinks ruined Irn-Bru and mango Rubicon by forcing makers to change their once-delicious recipes. And I doubt it has led a single obese child to lose a pound of weight. Now the Treasury is threatening to expand the foul-tasting levy to milkshakes, too. Plans for a smoking ban outdoors only went up in flames after a national outcry (thank goodness). But now there are rumours Sir Keir Starmer is considering a tax on gambling to pay for higher welfare spending. Yet more bossy taxes designed not just to raise money — but to make us feel bad about the little joys in life. They are a tax on fun. Britain's nanny state is like the many-headed hydra of Ancient Greece, a terrifying sea serpent which Hercules had to slay as one of his seven labours. Each time Hercules lopped off one of the monster's heads, another grew back, just as fierce and terrifying. The hydra was finally defeated only when its one immortal head was killed, leading the others to wither like tomatoes on a vine. Sir Keir should heed Hockney's cry and hurry up and slay the hydra of the nanny state. Or does that sound too bossy? Spice up the lives of modern teens HOORAY, the Spice Girls are finally reuniting. Well, their holograms might be, anyway. Their old manager Simon Fuller is in talks for their avatars to perform live concerts, like the Abba Voyage experience. This is music to the ears of girls like me who grew up in the 1990s, squabbling with our mates over who got to be Geri in the dance routines, but never got to see the Fab Five perform live. I remember when Wannabe burst on to the scene. Suddenly pop was fun again. Angst-ridden blokes strumming their guitars were now out. Leopard print-wearing gobby girls were in. Me and my mates dashed over to Walthamstow Market to pick out our crop tops, moon rings and platform trainers. It was all about Girl Power and having fun. Girls today have it harder than I did. All that Instagram pressure and doom-scrolling can't be healthy. A trip round a virtual Spice World would spice up their lives. TOUGH LUCK FOR ED ED MILIBAND once famously declared, 'Hell yes, I'm tough enough' to be PM when he was asked if he was just too much of a geek to lead Britain. And it seems that he has been trying to act the hardman again – this time over how much cash his Net Zero department will get. 5 Red Ed stormed out of showdown talks with Treasury minister Darren Jones after just NINE minutes, top government sources tell me. He was in such a huff that he slammed the door behind him. But it seems his Danny Dyer impersonation is not leaving his colleagues quaking in their boots. One told me: 'Ed is playing the tough guy and being very aggressive. 'Maybe it would look swaggering if he didn't look like the kind of guy who got his head shoved down the toilet at school.' It seems Ed is not tough enough after all. BEEB IS DYING BEAST THE BBC has brought back its Walking With Dinosaurs show – and I could not be happier. It is fun, educational and heart-warming. In the first episode, we meet an orphaned baby triceratops, Clover, looking for bigger pals to protect her from a fearsome T-Rex. The show follows palaeontologists as they dig up fossils, then uses CGI to reimagine the lives dinosaurs led on Earth. It is the sort of TV show Auntie should be making. The BBC's Charter Review is looming, and politicians will again debate whether we scrap the licence fee for a subscription service. With viewer numbers crashing, particularly among Gen Z, the dated model of the licence fee is hard to defend. One thing the Government should do is decriminalise non-payment of the fee. It is outrageous you can get a criminal record for this. The BBC must modernise to survive – or like the dinosaurs, it will become extinct. DOWN THE TUBES THREE cheers for Robert Jenrick, the Tory frontbencher who has been out catching fare dodgers in London's lawless Tube stations. The video of the Shadow Justice Secretary confronting blokes who brazenly jump the barriers in the capital's Underground has been watched 11million times. In one particularly outrageous scene, a fare dodger even threatens to pull a knife on Jenrick after being challenged about his behaviour. Sorry mate, you've been caught on camera! This video has struck a chord with the country because it shows what we already know is true – lawlessness has taken over many of our streets. Thuggish criminals are dodging fares, nicking Greggs sausage rolls and generally sticking two fingers up at the Old Bill. The scenes Jenrick filmed will be only too familiar to anyone who has caught a train or Tube in London in the past few years. Train station staff lazily chat to their mates or stare blankly ahead as yobs vault over the station barriers. They don't bother to even challenge these fare cheats. They just aren't bovvered. And what is London Mayor Sadiq Khan doing while thugs run amok on his Tube system? Calling for the decriminalising of cannabis, a topic high up on absolutely nobody's agenda. Mr Khan should stop grandstanding on vanity issues, take a leaf out of Jenrick's book and actually start challenging the lawlessness gripping our streets. THE Royal Family have announced the haul of pressies they have received in 2023. King Charles was the big winner – bagging a free Rolls-Royce and a fragment of the cross Jesus was said to be crucified on. She was given a bottle of hand sanitiser and a model of a slurry tanker – used for transporting animal manure. No offence to the well-meaning gift givers, but those presents sound a bit s**t.
NDTV
22-05-2025
- NDTV
Sleeping With The Enemy: East German Honeypot Network That Seduced The West
New Delhi: Not all secrets were heard on wiretaps or caught on hidden cameras during the Cold War. Some were whispered in bedrooms, between lovers who didn't know they were pawns in a much bigger game. Markus Wolf, East Germany's elusive spymaster, built an army of heartbreakers, and some women willingly crossed the line for love. Markus Wolf: The Spymaster Markus Wolf wasn't your typical spy chief. He was known as the "man without a face" because Western intelligence couldn't get a photo of him for decades. At 30, he was heading the foreign intelligence division of the Stasi - East Germany's feared state security service. While most people associate espionage with gadgets and car chases, the Stasi realised something else could be just as effective. Love. Or at least, the illusion of it. The Romeo Spies So Wolf created a unit of attractive, charming, and emotionally intelligent men. Each "Romeo" had a target, a "Juliet", usually a woman working as secretaries, assistants, or clerks in West German ministries, NATO offices, and other high-value organisations. The Romeos were trained in psychology, romance, and even literature to better connect with their targets. Their mission was to seduce, earn trust, and steal secrets. Romeos studied their targets thoroughly before staging "accidental" meetings. Once they built trust and emotional intimacy, they asked their Juliets to pass on confidential information. Many of these women were single, often older, and working in male-dominated spaces that left them isolated. When a charming man appeared, seemingly by chance, with flowers and genuine interest, defences dropped. There was only one rule: no marriage. Even if genuine feelings developed, Romeos were warned not to propose. Marriage required background checks, which risked exposing the operation. Love, Lies, Files Once a Romeo gained their target's trust, sometimes over months or even years, they began to request favours. He might propose marriage or invent an emergency that required help, say, accessing classified documents. Some knowingly crossed the line for love. Others didn't even realise they were leaking state secrets to the Stasi. One of the most famous cases was that of Gabriele Gast, a West German analyst who fell for a Romeo named "Karl-Heinz." After years of a secret affair and staged love letters, she eventually began passing documents to East Germany, believing it was for their future together. She would later say in interviews that she felt used and manipulated, but at the time, she believed it was love. Some Broken Hearts By the 1980s, Western counterintelligence began piecing things together. Multiple arrests followed. Many of the women were shocked to discover their lovers were trained spies. Their relationships had been nothing but carefully scripted operations. Some lives were destroyed. Others rebuilt. As for Markus Wolf, he eventually defected to Austria and later returned to reunified Germany, where he faced trial but avoided jail time. In interviews, he remained unapologetic, insisting that what mattered were results, and his Romeos had delivered. "As long as there is espionage, there will be Romeos seducing unsuspecting Juliets with access to secrets," he wrote in his autobiography. "After all, I was running an intelligence service, not a lonely-hearts club." The Romeo spy programme remains one of the most audacious and controversial intelligence tactics of the 20th century.
Spectator
16-05-2025
- General
- Spectator
How is Germany so weird yet so dull?
When I lived in Berlin a decade ago, I was struck by the contrast between the dullness of young Germans and the incredible weirdness of everything else. Only in German could the word for 'gums' (Zahnfleisch) mean 'toothflesh'. And only in fleisch-mad Germany (the word for 'meat' is the same as 'flesh', which is somehow incredibly disgusting) would people snack on raw pork, a dish known as mett. Mett, also known, rather curiously, as Hackepeter, is sometimes offered at buffets in the shape of a hedgehog (what else?) with raw onion spines. It simply doesn't get stranger. While musing on such things, I would cycle slowly around the bizarre gigantist ministries of the Nazi period near Checkpoint Charlie (itself a relic of a truly bonkers, menacing portion of the past), or past the Stasi headquarters in the almost mind-bendingly drab Lichtenberg. Or I'd drive down south with my then-boyfriend to Munich or Heidelberg and observe the particularly blood-curdling hedonism with which older West Germans took refreshment.
The Herald Scotland
15-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Herald Scotland
'Orange Order's enemies are Holyrood politicians - not Catholics'
I've been a witness to these parades for most of my adult life. As a Catholic growing up in the west of Scotland, they held a cautious fascination for me: part fear, part excitement. Right now though, I'm experiencing something else; something I'd never previously have thought it possible to feel about this gathering: empathy, affection and … bloody hell: is there a bat-squeak of emotion here too? Watching an Orange parade swing past you is always something to behold; being present as this one rises on Holland Street, just below the square is something else entirely. It's not quite stumbling upon the source of the Nile, but for someone like me, it still feels rather – how can I put this – hallowed. Read more I've chosen to wear a blue suit for the occasion and I'm standing just a little back from the throng as it begins to swell. A wee phalanx of ladies, all smart and pleased in their orange dresses and white jackets passes by. One of them, seeing me spark up a cigarette, asks for a light. 'You've got a good day for it,' I venture. 'Thank God,' she says, 'I can't afford to have another hat ruined by the rain.' Another thought: I've been on many political marches and protests, but this is probably the most authentically working-class gathering I've ever seen. If you know, you know. The clothing, the snatched conversations about the Rangers and their present perils; the hand movements, the way a cigarette is held; the shapes, the sizes, the absolute imperviousness to what anyone else might think of them. There's no belligerence here though; no hostility or threat. They're drawn mainly from the most economically-deprived neighbourhoods: Springburn, Possilpark, Townhead, Birdgeton, Dalmarnock, Calton, Toryglen, Gorbals. On social media posts in the days following this parade, a slew of unvarnished misogyny will accompany pictures of it, much of it from those who like to channel progressiveness and inclusion. The word 'hatefest' will feature from people actively engaging in 'hate' towards these women. It will come from a middle-class, political elite who actively pursue a cultural agenda of 'no-debate' which cancels dissidents; hounds them out of their jobs; publicly humiliates them and encourages their colleagues and family to disown them. It's from the Stasi playbook. They'll tell the Orangemen that they don't belong in modern, progressive, enlightened Scotland and to get back to the 19th century. This is ironic, because the attitudes and methods of the culture warriors are firmly rooted in the witch trials of the 16th century. The Ladies Orange Association of Scotland walk through the streets of Glasgow city centre last month (Image: Robert Perry) Last year, these same people had sought to destroy the political career of Kate Forbes, the most able Scottish politician of her generation, on account of her Free Presbyterianism. It was clear that in their Scotland, being an authentic Christian means you're less equal than them. Down from Blythswood Square, the bands are mustering and some flutes are tooting and tuning amidst clacking drumsticks. There's a wee blast of 'The Bangers' a term with which my old friend Graeme from the Scotsman used to call 'the Sash'. Bangers and mash: sash. There's a blast of The Dambusters. I'm here though, for the Lambeg drum and some shilpit wee bloke almost buckling under its weight battering it as though his life depended on it. 'Bam! Bam! Bam! … Bam! Bam! Bam! It is old but it is beautiful and its colours they are fine.' It's part of the soundtrack of my youth. But the big drum is nowhere to be seen or heard and I'm slightly disappointed. The grand chaplain in her purple dress is wearing a small tiara (Tiara Peepul). Standing beside her is Mr Walters, the Executive Officer and Andrew Murray, the Most Worthy Grand Master, both of whom I'd met a few days earlier. They're both looking proud as punch in dark suits and sashes and white gloves. Andrew spots me and runs over to say hello just before the parade starts. 'Should he be breaking the ranks,' I'm thinking. And then I'm looking about slightly nervously to see if anyone else had heard him shout 'Kevin'. And now we're off as the flutes and drums play Abide with Me. Then it's 'Sing Hosanna to the King of Kings as I fight the impious instinct to substitute Henrik Larssen for 'Sing Hosanna'. In secular Scotland where you get mocked by trade union leaders for your faith I'm beholding a group who walk behind the bible and belt out 'Sing Hosanna to the King of Kings'. The Orange Orders have serious (and entirely valid) issues with the abstruse and esoteric rituals of my Roman Catholic worship, but today – and not for the first time – I feel more comfortable with them than with the counterfeit neophiles who run Scotland. The Orange Order are for 'king and country' (Image: Robert Perry) At the Orange Order's headquarters down by the Clyde at Calton Place I'm sitting with Mr Walters and some of his confreres . Later, I'm posing for a picture with them underneath a rather fetching portrait of King Billy atop his white charger. There is some soil displacement in St Peter's Cemetery, Dalbeth. There's a growing resentment within the Orange Order that they've become an easy target for those who strive to proclaim their progressive values in Scotland. They're dismayed that a cohort of senior politicians in the SNP, the Scottish Greens and Labour are, they say, misrepresenting and undermining them. There is another irony here. Some of their fiercest critics who accuse them of anti-Catholicism are also happy to deny Catholics the full expression of their faith. Mr Walters makes the Orange Order's position clear. 'We're not hostile to any Roman Catholic. Certainly, we are in disagreement with some Catholic practices which we feel are at odds with the biblical teaching s of the reformed faith. What we celebrate in the Glorious Revolution is religious freedom for all which nonetheless allows us to disagree as they are free to do so with ours. Isn't this what diversity is supposed to mean?" Edward McGonnell is Senior Depute Grandmaster and is eager to amplify these sentiments. I take to him immediately. He talks quickly in that familiar monotone of all true sons of the Clyde. He paints pictures with couthy anecdotes featuring a sprawling cast of friends and family summoned from his youth. There are elaborate hand gestures. He supports Rangers and I support Celtic and so an old Glasgow diplomacy is at play whereby we will offer each other over-elaborate compliments or condolences about the form of our respective teams to signify that we both come in peace. When I meet Grandmaster Andrew Murray, he takes care to be gracious and urbane about Rangers' last-minute victory over Celtic the previous day. 'We are not the enemies of the Catholic Church,' says Edward. 'The enemies of Catholicism are to be found in an aggressively atheistic influence at Holyrood. They are hostile to authentic Protestantism too and I think the Orange Order and the Catholic Church and the Kirk should be acting in common cause to defend ourselves. 'Of course we've got sincere theological differences, with the Catholic Church, right? But that's the beauty of life in general. There's a lot that unites us. To me, our common threat is secularism.' He expresses sympathy for 'that wee woman who got lifted by the polis for saying her prayers outside a hospital'. Read more That all said, there's a reasonable opinion – not always rooted in being anti-Orange – that there are too many Orange Parades during the marching season. Why are these processions so important? It's an outward expression of our faith and culture,' says Mr McGonnell. 'Some people suggest that we should just 'march around a park' but they would never suggest the same for Palestinian demos, or pro-independence rallies, or anti-Brexit protests. 'People like to be seen to be associated with something that's important to them and their families: something that truly represents their values. In recent years, we've reduced the number of parades and apply stricter criteria on lodges seeking an application to march. We invest a lot of time and training in marshals to ensure the parades are peaceful and enjoyable for all." He won't say it, so I will: I want my Protestants to be properly Protestant and no messing about. It's the same with how I view Scottish nationalism and the Scottish Greens and the Labour party, none of whom, in their current incarnations, remotely resemble who they claim to be. 'There's been a campaign among certain politicians and media outlets to have us branded as toxic. They never wish to engage with us. They never wish to talk with us. They just want to brand us as toxic. We had a situation recently where one of our members, a clergyman, was attacked in Lanarkshire and racially and religiously abused. Neither John Mason, Humza Yousaf nor James Dornan raised a cheep about this as a hate crime. No one at Holyrood even believes that there's even such a thing as anti-Protestantism. We believe that any hate crime should be condemned. We've condemned it when it comes from any of our members.' He cites a 2023 Scottish government report which revealed that 47% of hate crimes were committed against the Catholic community while 16% was anti-Protestant and 16% Islamophobic. 'Recently, we had a meeting with the police, who told us that hate crime within the Christian communities in Scotland was now running at 50-50 between Catholics and Protestants. This isn't because there's been an increase in anti-Protestantism: it's because we've now instructed out members to report it, which we'd never done before.' Yet, still the sense persists that the Orange Order deliberately chooses routes that take the parades past Catholic churches. Mr McGonnell rejects this. 'In recent years, we've strived to forge a relationship with the Catholic parishes on our parade routes. 'It's difficult for us to deviate down side streets. We take the main arterial routes in and out of the city as agreed by the council and Police Scotland. Neither they nor we want a situation where someone is sitting at home and a parade is going past their window. William Craig, substitute county Grand Master, Kirsty McAinsh, Most Worthy Grand Mistress of Scotland, Edward McGonnell, senior depute Grand Master of the Orange Order of Scotland, and David Walters, executive officer of the Grand Orange Order of Scotland (Image: Gordon Terris) 'On the day of our Boyne celebrations in Glasgow, we'll go by about 13 Catholic places of worship. In the last five years we've been contacting the local priests for a chat. We want them to know in good time that if there's a wedding or funeral happening at the chapel, then we'll be happy to move our parade to an earlier or later time to avoid any conflict. We feel we have built good relationships with many local Catholic clergy.' Edward McGonnell talks about the Christian and political values that attracted him to the Orange Order. 'It gives us a sense of belonging. If you join the Orange Order you need to be a bible-reading Christian. You need to believe in God. We've had people seeking to join us who don't believe in God. So we have to tell them that means it's not for you. 'This is a Christian organisation which is patriotic to King and country. And that's proving attractive to young people. Our youth numbers have been up these last couple of years.' There's also a sense of betrayal in the Orange Order at its treatment by some in the Church of Scotland, which they think is rooted in ignorance about its values and an out-dated reputation around anti-Catholicism. In some areas, they believe they've had fairer treatment and a fairer hearing from Catholic clergymen. In Lanarkshire, members of the Slamannan Bible and Crown Defenders Loyal Orange Lodge No: 227 have met in the local parish church since 1963. Their fund-raising, amounting to tens of thousands of pounds, have helped maintain the church in good repair. Recently though, they've been evicted because, according to the Kirk Session, 'to continue the let was not felt to be congruent with how the Kirk Session of Upper Braes parish church wish to live out their purpose and values within the community'. The Church claimed that kicking out a group which has been faithful to the Kirk's values and poured cash into its upkeep was 'lawful in terms of the Equality Act 2010.' No reason was given save for a concern that the presence of the Orangemen would undermine collaboration with other Christian denominations. The ladies band in action (Image: Gordon Terris)Kirsty McAinsh, Most Worthy Grand Mistress of the Ladies Association in Scotland, points to the family values that underpin the Lodge's existence and, she says, its growing appeal among young people. 'There's a feeling that the Kirk has neglected its role in the formation of our young people, which was once evident in organisations like the Girl Guides and the Boys Brigade. In many places across Scotland the Orange Order is filling that gap. Our members are practising Christians, but they're choosing to leave churches where they're being made to feel unwelcome.' Perhaps, though, it's in the Orange Order's recent dialogue with the Irish Government and the Irish Consul in Scotland, where their efforts to break down barriers are part of a larger framework of peace and reconciliation. Mr Murray said: 'We're keen to establish a relationship with Irish groups in Scotland to increase mutual understanding and appreciation of the full spectrum of the Irish experience in Scotland.' Implicit in this perhaps, is a recognition that the sad modern history of Northern Ireland has been at the root of the religious divide and that the time has come for a healing to occur. A spokesperson for the Irish Consulate in Scotland said: 'The Irish Government has regular engagements with the Orange Order at both official and political levels. Taoiseach Leo Varadkar made the first visit by a serving Taoiseach to the Orange Order in Belfast in 2018, meeting the leadership and paying his respects at a memorial to Orangemen killed during The Troubles. 'The then Tanaiste and Minister for Foreign Affairs, Michael Martin, visited the Museum of Orange Heritage in East Belfast in 2023, meeting with Grand Secretary Mervyn Gibson. Grand Secretary Gibson participated in a Shared Island Dialogue on Accommodating national identities in October, 2023, held at the Abbey Theatre, Dublin, along with 300 civil society and cultural representatives from North and South. There was something else I'd felt up at Blythswood Square on that sunny, Sunday morning last month. It felt like a healing. I was at peace with these Orange ladies and their Orangemen and I think, at last, that they were at peace with me.
Yahoo
13-05-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
It's no longer hyperbolic to ask if Britain is still a free country
'Very Brexity.' These were the words police officers breathlessly uttered as they rifled through Julian Foulkes' book collection, looking for evidence of thoughtcrime. The bodycam footage from the 2023 arrest of Foulkes – a retired special constable from Kent, who was cautioned for sending 'malicious communications' – sent a chill down my spine, as I'm sure it did for many Telegraph readers. If not liking the European Union is enough to raise the eyebrows of England's poundshop Stasi, then I guess I'll see you all in the gulag. Foulkes' horrendous treatment was as absurd as it was illiberal. The offending tweet that led six police officers to his door was actually condemning anti-Semitism. He accused London's 'pro-Palestine' hate-marchers of being 'one step away from storming Heathrow looking for Jewish arrivals' – a reference to a recent anti-Semitic riot at an airport in Dagestan. The subtlety was apparently lost on Kent's finest, who cuffed Foulkes, held him for eight hours and began ransacking his house as if he were a drug kingpin. Last week, Kent Police apologised and wiped the caution from Foulkes' record. But to chalk this up as some kind of hapless error risks normalising this new breed of authoritarianism – even more so than it already has been. Being slammed in a cell for hate speech is really not nothing. Foulkes feared he'd never be able to visit his daughter abroad again. He feared his neighbours would think he was a paedophile, as cops hauled out laptops in evidence bags. No free nation can allow this state-led harassment of innocent people, merely for expressing their opinions on the internet, to become routine. But it has. A recent Times investigation found that at least 30 people a day are being arrested for saying 'grossly offensive' things on the internet. According to Greg Lukianoff – president of the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression in the US – this means that Dear Old Blighty is already, easily, arresting more people for speech crimes today than America did during the first Red Scare. It's no longer hyperbolic to ask if Britain in 2025 still qualifies as a free country. Were we just going after genuine hate-speakers, that would be bad enough. No one should be arrested for an opinion, no matter how odious. But it's obviously gone far beyond that now. As two parents from Borehamwood found out recently, even criticising your daughter's school too vigorously can lead to a knock at the door. YouTube comics have been convicted for off-colour jokes. Lying social-media attention-seekers have been convicted for being lying social-media attention-seekers. This really isn't normal. Or at least, it shouldn't be. The establishment appears to have imbibed the paternalistic notion that censorship begets harmony. That involving the police in even the most minor social-media squabbles is essential, lest widespread unrest ensue. This oozes contempt for the public, of all backgrounds – as if white Brits are only ever a few spicy tweets away from a pogrom and minorities would rather be protected from offence than violence and burglary. Well, the treatment of Foulkes and many more reveals that censorship only begets more censorship. Our decades-long experiment in policing 'hate' has ended up with pensioners being handcuffed for criticising anti-Semites. Yet more proof that we cannot trust the state to decide what is right, good and true – and that speech codes, however tightly drawn, can balloon to include totally innocent, even righteous, speech. So it's time for a people's revolt against our supposed betters – against a distant establishment that thinks it has the right to dictate what we can say, think and do. Very Brexity, I know. But they surely can't arrest all of us. Broaden your horizons with award-winning British journalism. Try The Telegraph free for 1 month with unlimited access to our award-winning website, exclusive app, money-saving offers and more.
