MINISTRY OF RACIAL HARMONY – A TALE OF THE NEAR FUTURE

 

John Smith was bundled from the back of the black van which bore the words on the side “Harmony”,”Equality”,”Rainbow Nation”. It was a van which half an hour ago he had been dragged from his house and thrown into. It was a Black Maria (though nobody would dare use THAT term these days!) of the Anti-Hate Police.

John Smith blinked in the sudden sunlight and started up at the black, monolithic towering pyramid that was the Ministry of Racial Harmony. The dreaded place. A place mentioned in whispers by those White patriots scattered and disorganised in this Great Britain which had now been ruled by its Marxist New Labour Government for over thirty years.

 

John Smith recalled his crime. Some visitor, he didn’t know which one had spotted an old atlas in his bookcase and reported it. When the Anti-Hate Police swooped at dawn that morning they hard torn his bookcase apart looking for banned literature – Enid Blyton, Kipling, Agatha Christie, Conan Doyle amongst many others – but it was the atlas they were after. It was an old school atlas from the 1930’s but showed a large part of the world coloured in red, with the British Empire at its height. There and then John Smith was accused of “glorifying slavery and colonialism” under some section or other of the thirty plus Hate Laws which then existed in Britain.

 

Two helmeted Hate Police, clad in black and with faces invisible behind mirrored visors hauled him through the barbed wire gates and through the heavily fortified steel entrance doors. He was thrown unceremoniously into a cell, which contained three other prisoners. He looked gingerly around at his fellow Whites who stared morosely at the walls. Hours past and eventually they swapped stories or at least reasons why they were there. One was in for whilst drunk the night before criticising the complete absence of free speech. Another was in for staring ‘menacingly’ at an immigrant , even though he denied it, he had been reported by a zealous liberal type in the bar who had frantically dialled the Hate Police. Another had torn down a “Rainbow Nation” poster in a pent up rage. The final prisoner was guilty of a far more serious crime and which clearly shocked the other prisoners. He had been caught spraying the words “Britain for the British” in paint on one of the walls of the many crumbling buildings of a decaying London, where the only new ones were those built to house the ever expanding industry of Race Relations, Anti-Hate Bureaus and other Government buildings which proliferated into investigate and control every walk of life in this Marxist New Labour Britain.

John Smith looked at him pityingly – that carried the death penalty!

 

In a while John Smith was hauled before an Anti-Hate Tribunal, the six members of which represented just a fraction of the many races now sharing an ever crowded British soil in Harmony, Love and Peace (despite what the whispers about the soaring crime rate said).

 

John Smith was lucky. He received thirty days in a Race Relations Re-education camp. Of the other three, two received long terms and one a few days later in some dingy basement room was shot in the back of the head.

 

This short fictional story of course has a happy ending – on his release John Smith NEVER looked at an atlas again….