5 hours and counting...

For the past week, I have been engaged in numerous conversations regarding one Nick Griffin, who has somehow managed to shift from cult to celebrity status amid the public’s concern over his appearance on Question Time.

As I pen this, there is exactly five hours and counting until he graces the stage, to a barrage of ‘boos’ and wanton chants of “get off, “ “racist” and “evil,” and like the celebrity he has become, he will smile and take it all in his stride, for he, has arrived.
No-one can dispute that his appearance on Question Time is monumental, but the real wonder will be what he says after the heckling, how he articulates his ideas and how well, if at all, he manages to capture the public, for you see, with Nick Griffin on set, spouting his Nationalist manifesto of British this and English that, immigration this and white working class that, the true measure of his impact will be the discussions the public has after, both in public and in private.

Having him on stage not only elevates him and his party, it also forces us to face our own prejudices and insecurities, it forces us to look at our own conduct and beliefs and assess just how far, or near, our actions and beliefs are in sync with Mr Griffin’s own, and whether there is even any correlation between our actions and our convictions.

Earlier today I watched the demonstrations outside the BBC studios and was amazed by the sheer volume of people enraged by this whole fiasco, but I had to ask myself, how many of these people have made snide, racist remarks? Behind closed doors, how many feel that all black men are gun-slinging-knife-wielding madmen, how many greet their EU counterparts, who come to this country in search of a better tomorrow, with consideration and cheer? How many, enclosed in comfortable and private conversations, have mocked their colleague who chooses to don a burkha? Hopefully none, but if that figure is wrong, then why the outrage, why the protest? Maybe Nick Griffin really is our own Ghost of Christmas Present, sent to haunt us with visions of our own internal prejudices and discriminations, and the hatred we so overtly hurl at him is nothing more than transference, for if we embrace the fact that we agree with his rhetoric, that we find some comfort and hope in his policies, maybe we are not the egalitarians we once thought we were. Maybe.

So as the electorate protests and prepares to burn him in effigy, I ask that we allow the crowds to disperse, for silence and normality to reign and then focus on the conversations after, for that will be the true measure of us all.