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The Coming of the 'Fifth Estate'?   Topic List   < Prev Topic  |  Next Topic >
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The Coming of the 'Fifth Estate'? It's already here.

The Fifth Estate was alive already decades ago, and has probably growing been growing.
In the book "Action! Race Wars to Door Wars" the street-fighter NS veteran Joe Owens describes how 'men', under the influence of infra-human elements, in all steps of society, from the negro drug-dealer/pimp to the Arch-bishop, from the Communist revolutionary to the Capitalist politician, united together against law and order:
On 11th April, 1981, riots erupted in Brixton. Brixton, being a mainly black area of south London, had been simmering for some time. Local black youth blamed the police and the dreaded Sus law that allowed the police to arrest anyone they believed was up to no good. The black youth believed it was used to unjustly target them. The final straw came when the police arrested a black man, then BANG! Brixton erupted. Nearly three hundred police officers and sixty-five civilians were injured, and a white woman raped. In addition, millions of pounds worth of damage was done to property.

The usual brigade of left wing do-gooders and assorted clergy crawled out from under their flat stones, protecting the rioters and blaming the police. You even had Lord Scarman and the Scarman Enquiry blaming the police and the so-called dreaded Sus law. Operation Swamp had been intended to clear the muggers off the streets. The blacks, not liking this, decided to riot and burn the place down. Black communities in other parts of the country noted the reaction to the Brixton riots and decided to flex their muscles too… On Friday, July 3rd, 1981, the arrest of 20-year-old Leroy Cooper on Selbourne Street, watched by an angry crowd, led to a fracas in which three police officers were injured. This catalyst set Toxteth ablaze. Over the weekend that followed full-blown riots broke out on the streets of Toxteth. There were pitched battles between police and youths throwing missiles and petrol bombs. The rioting lasted for several days.

During this period over 781 police officers were injured and some 500 people arrested. At least 150 buildings were demolished or burnt down during the riots, and millions of pounds worth of damage was done. The casualties included the Rialto Ballroom, which had played host to concerts by The Beatles. Here is a firsthand account from a witness to the riot,
"At the top of Upper Parliament Street there was a milk place and a car hire next to each other. They used the milk bottles and the petrol from the car hire garage to make petrol bombs and rained them down on the police who formed a line across Parli. They gradually pushed the police back down Parli bit by bit. They were outwitting the police. They used the hire cars to run at the police lines by putting bricks on the accelerators and jumping out the cars way beforehand. The police scattered like flies each time a driverless car screeched down at them. They also used a JCB [a bulldozer - TII] to attack the police too. They used it as a tank with the petrol bombers behind who would emerge and reign down the bombs on the police. Then the JCB would pull back for another run. They used the JCB to knock down parts of the buildings and then ran it at the police vehicles with jib swinging. Very effective indeed. The police would bang their riot shields to make a noise to frighten the rioters (or army by now). They responded by banging on the ground or banging bits of metal together to frighten the police.

The occasional hand-to-hand fighting meant a policeman was beaten badly – I never saw it the other way around. The police wisely would not venture out of their lines. These kids were fearless and had it in for the cops. The police could not push the rioters back with vehicles as the road was littered with wrecks and buildings burning either side. On one of the last nights, bit by bit they pushed the police back down Parli until they reached Catharine Street. If they pushed the police down Catharine Street they were then in the city centre. Then the guns were used against them. Only Liverpool police were at the front line with the reserves from other forces behind them in case they were broken.  Police from other forces were mainly patrolling the areas the Liverpool police could not cover.

They never burnt the Post Office or unemployment office on Parli/
Princes Road. They had to cash their welfare state benefits.

More damage was done in those nights to Liverpool 8 than what Hitler
did in 6 years."
Jeff Ashcroft joined the police as a seventeen-year-old cadet in 1971. Ten years on, at the time of the Toxteth riots, he was stationed at Manor Road Police Station in Wallasey, on the Wirral. He was presented with a commendation for his actions at the Toxteth riots by the Chief Constable of Merseyside, Kenneth Oxford. In May 2001, he retired on an ill-health pension, having been awarded eighteen commendations during his service. Here he relives the first night of rioting in Toxteth, Liverpool.
"I was on an afternoon shift, a normal sort of day for a uniformed foot
patrol officer. Then as the day turned to night, a sergeant hurried
around in a van, quickly picking up as many officers as possible. We
where told that youths in Liverpool at a place called Toxteth, had
started to riot.

At the time, I laughed; thinking this was some sort of joke. I was looking forward to the end of my shift and a nice cold pint of bitter. I can't describe how it felt when the van arrived in a side street at the bottom of Upper Parliament Street. We could hear this strange animal-like howling mixed with the sound of breaking glass. In hurried amazement (and fear) we lined up and were quickly given a riot shield, something I'd only seen before on the news from Belfast. Following a very nervous sergeant, we walked around the corner into hell! There before us stood row upon row of ambulances, police vehicles and officers rushing towards Upper Parliament Street. I could see that the vehicles seemed lit by a strange flickering light. I checked the street lighting at first, but my eyes where quickly drawn instead to a solid wall of uniformed officers and several fires beyond them. It was then that I saw my first petrol bomb.

Like a small meteorite, I watched in awe as it arced down over the tops of the officers, to fall with a smash and flash of fire onto the street between them and me. I swallowed hard as my mouth ran dry. I could literally taste the fear of what was impacting on my senses. Two ambulance-men carrying a stretcher walked quickly past me towards the ambulances. My eyes were drawn to an officer lying on the stretcher with his head cut wide open. I remember my sergeant telling us that we were going to relieve officers on the front line. It was a nightmare of fire, noise and hatred the like of which I'd never seen or imagined.

Yes, I'd faced many an angry man (and woman) before and knew
that violent confrontation came with the job but not this. Here were people I didn't know in an area I'd never visited, trying their very best
to kill me. I watched in horror for what seemed like hours as officer
after officer fell pole-axed with head injuries from unseen flying missiles
.
We'd been issued with a stupid little plastic face guard that fixed to
the front of our helmets. Those old helmets offered no protection at
all from flying bricks, stones and bits of iron railings. You never saw
them coming until one hit you. I jumped every time something thudded against my riot shield. In fact I grew to like the petrol bombs – at least you could see them coming.

As the night progressed, so too did the intensity of hatred towards us.  We were forced to stand there as stationary targets, because senior officers hadn't a clue how to handle the situation. Towards the morning we started to falter and I remember a very brave inspector (bleeding from a cut over his eye and missing his tie and hat) shouting at us to hold fast. A mate standing next to me gave me three cigarettes over the next 30 minutes. Not only was I smoking on duty but it took the three cigarettes before I realised I didn't smoke! Finally at dawn, we'd had enough. Ignoring orders from above most of us drew our batons and  roaring in anger, charged forward, some throwing aside our shields.  Senior officers tried to order us to stand our ground and were promptly told where to go! We charged the rioters, catching a few, seeing off the rest and that ended the first night of rioting.

When we eventually arrived back at Wallasey, minus ties, faces blackened and dirty, tunics undone and with shocked blank looks on
our faces, we where met with total surprise and looks of horror by the
morning shift and civilians alike. The shields we left in the van, hoping
that nothing like that would ever happen again. But after a few hours
sleep at home, I was telephoned to come in early. I was heading back
to Liverpool and the riots.

I can safely say, I'll remember those few months for the rest of my
life. It's a funny thing, but it's amazing how one can overcome and
adapt to any given situation. A few days after the first day of the riots,
I found myself in Lodge Lane, watching it burn down. I stood in a
looted shop phoning my mom, telling her I was okay but I had to go as
the shop was on fire and the flames were getting a bit close!"
It was the first time on the UK mainland that police had used C.S. Gas to restore some kind of order before they were overwhelmed by rioters. Some police officers hadn't slept in almost twenty-four hours. Twenty-five rounds of C.S. gas (ferret rounds) were fired at the rioters, two hitting Phil Robins in the chest and back, leaving him with serious wounds. The rounds were fired in rapid succession, the first hitting Robins in the chest and spinning him round so quickly that the second hit him in the back.

Overall, it had been a very vicious and violent premeditated attack on the police, unprecedented on the UK mainland. The police were taken totally by surprise and off-guard. They were not equipped to deal with such massive public disorder, with protective clothing being non-existent. They had more or less stood there for over twenty-four hours, while rioters had a free hand to hurl every type of missile and petrol bomb at them. This was because Merseyside Chief Constable Ken Oxford bowed to political pressure not to deal with the rioters as they should have been dealt with, leaving his men at the mercy of the mob. Only when things looked like they were about to get out of control, with police officers lives at risk, did he order the firing of C.S. Gas. Instead of doing this in the first place, he waited until over seven hundred police officers were injured, and loss of life a real possibility, before
ending the riot by ordering the C.S. rounds fired.

With black humour, an anonymous local up-dated a well-known saying, "Red sky at night, shepherd's delight, Red sky in the morning – Toxteth's burning!"

After the fires went out and Toxteth returned to some semblance of normality, the usual anti-police, left-wing, do-gooder PR machine began to kick in. Lady Margaret Simey was a former councillor for the Granby/Toxteth ward and all round so-called champion of the poor. Now chairing the Merseyside Police Authority, she publicly attacked the police, even saying of the rioters, "They would have been apathetic fools had they not rioted." She called for an end to police stop and search tactics, and police racism. Social conditions in Toxteth were the causes of the riots, with unemployment, bad housing and police racism just being some of them, said Lady Simey.

David Alton, the sitting MP for Edge Hill said it was "a powder keg". It's like a time bomb that is ticking away and could blow the heart out of our inner cites. If young people become angry and erupt against the people who have shown such callous contempt for their problems." Our old friend Paul Sommerfield, of the Merseyside Community Council, joined in the chorus and said, "It was a spontaneous reaction of anger and resentment and it's got to be recognised as such, not brushed under the
table by claiming it was just a couple of rabble rousers stirring things up."

Not to be left out, the two bishops of Liverpool, Bishop David Shepherd and Archbishop Derek Warlock were quick to condemn heavy-handed police tactics, defending their flock unreservedly. The BNP was to come up against these two saviours of God's underprivileged several years later. Derek Hatton and Tony Mulhearn's Militant Tendency also jumped onto the bandwagon of anti-police/ anti-Oxford hysteria. The Labour Party Young Socialists produced a leaflet, distributing it in Toxteth, which called for all charges to be dropped against the rioters and all those arrested to be released. They also called for a one-day strike in protest at conditions in the area.

Just when you thought it could not get any worse, it did. We then had the very rioters themselves forming an anti-police group in the form of the Liverpool 8 Defence Committee. Michael Showers headed the L8DC – a black gangster from Toxteth, later convicted of smuggling heroin, Showers was well known to the police. He regularly drove around Toxteth in his Rolls Royce. He had been a suspect in several murders, including that of a prostitute in Toxteth. He was rumoured to be a pimp as well as a drug-dealer. Anyway, the all round bad boy was now all round good guy, standing up for the poor and oppressed of Toxteth… After the rag-bag of lefty, do-gooder, traitors had lined up to attack both the police and law and order, they set in motion the ultimate humiliation of the Merseyside force and Ken Oxford.
On the 15 August 1981 an `anti-Oxford' march was planned for Liverpool City centre. It was to start at Sefton Park, Toxteth, and end with a rally at the pier-head. Red traitor and IRA supporter Tony Mulhearn, chairman of Liverpool Labour Party, spelled out what the purpose of the march was, "Ken Oxford must go because he is responsible for the policing methods which were a major factor in provoking the Toxteth riots."

He, like the rest of the Red termites of that time, was more concerned about bringing about their workers' revolution, than the welfare of Toxteth residents, black or white. They jumped on any passing bandwagon of discontent and civil unrest. They were prepared to use anyone or any situation to advance their political agenda.
Home Secretary William Whitelaw was flooded with telegrams from Toxteth residents who feared the march would end in violence. Victims of Violence campaigner Joan Jonker (this was a true champion of the helpless and victims of society) called for the march to be banned.

"There is no need for anyone to be worried," aid L8DC spokesman Peter Bassey. Merseyside's senior Community Relations Officer, Mr Paul Sommerfield, dismissed accusations that the march was being hijacked by extremists. Well, try telling that to the seventeen police officers who were stabbed and beaten during and after the march…

When we heard of the proposed march, we decided to do something about it, to stage some sort of counter-demonstration. I knew we would not have the numbers to mount a serious counter-demo, but we couldn't stand by and let these Reds and Blacks march unopposed – we had to do something. Myself, Ken Usher, Jimmy McGhee, Martin Dillon, Joey D, George Hesketh, Nicky Williams, Paul Jordan, Andy, and a few good lads I'd brought from Norris Green, all waited at Saint Luke's church at the top of Bold Street, that Saturday afternoon.

As the marchers drew nearer and turned into Hardman Street, from Rodney Street, you could hear an almighty roar, reminiscent of the film Zulu. As the marchers got closer to Bold Street, we saw police officers' helmets being thrown into the air. This signalled to us that it must have gone off, that the police were now under attack. As the black/communist mob arrived at Bold St; it became apparent what was happening. Oxford had caved in yet again to the demands of the mob. He'd ordered
a minimal police presence in an attempt to avoid provoking the marchers. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Now the police were thin on the ground, the black mob decided to attack. Even before the Red/black mob got to Bold Street, several police officers had been attacked and stabbed. A twenty-one-year-old Merseyside officer, by the name of Glyn Jones, tried to help after hearing colleagues shouting for assistance and seeing helmets hurled in the air. His bravery almost cost him his life, for the young officer was surrounded by a savage mob, and had a stiletto-style knife plunged into him just below the heart.

By now, this crowd of savages was at the top of Bold Street, where we stood and was positively frightening. Leading the mob were several hundred angry-looking blacks, some armed with wooden staffs, some with flag poles. They were screaming abuse at anyone in uniform. Behind this group followed something that took me totally by surprise… They carried a white coffin as if in a funeral procession. It had a pig's head sitting on it, wearing a policeman's helmet. Written on the helmet was `Murderside Police'. If anyone had any doubts as to the marchers' intentions, these would have been quickly dispelled when setting eyes on this lot. I have to admit – it had me scared for a moment. We collectively decided that confrontation with the black mob heading the march would have been suicidal – we simply didn't have the numbers.
We let the march pass making its way down Renshaw Street. We ran off, down Bold Street towards Church Street, waiting at the corner of Whitechapel. We knew the marchers would be going past Whitechapel, onto Lord Street, as they made their way to the Pier Head.

We intended to let the main group of blacks pass by, before deciding what to do. When the blacks had passed, we tried to steam into the marchers. One of our lot jumped in, shouting abuse at the filthy Reds, before he was jumped on by plain-clothes police. We then started shouting "Oxford in! Oxford in!"

Now don't get me wrong, I was no Oxford fan. I looked upon him and the rest of his kind as sell-outs to the mob and the Reds. Shouting `Oxford in' was just to wind the Reds up, and get a bit of publicity. As we shouted, "Oxford in!" I remember a copper on his radio screaming, "Back up! Back up! Lunatics shouting at the marchers!" Considering our numbers we must have been lunatics to shout at a three-thousand strong Red mob… Police reinforcements arrived in seconds, and several snatch squads moved in to control us. They herded us back up Church Street, arresting the lad who jumped in at the Reds, charging him with threatening behaviour.

Now seventeen police officers had been attacked, some badly injured. Their injuries ranged from stab wounds to a fractured skull, yet not a single arrest was made. The only person arrested that day was a brave patriot with more guts than the craven Ken Oxford. The Toxteth riots are now firmly lodged as part of Liverpool folklore. Both policeman and rioter will have many a tale to tell their grandchildren. We'll probably never know the full extent of the impact on the lives of those hundreds of policemen hospitalised or injured. Some never worked again, let alone pounded the beat. Both they and their families will forever bear the scars – mental or physical – of those dreadful nights.
There is one thing I do know – as did Ken Oxford – anti-social elements and fifth columnists operated side by side to undermine the rule of law. These ranged from Lady Simey, Tony Mulhearn, and the Bishops, right down to Michael Showers & co. at gutter level. All had a role to play in an orchestrated attempt to destroy the very society tolerating them.

I'm not saying they were all part of a conspiracy to foment public disorder to hasten the advent of the `workers' revolution'… Mulhearn et al might dream of ushering in a Marxist utopia, and a no-go area for dealing drugs. They all helped in their little (and not so little) ways to strain the fabric of society. When people such as Simey chair the police authority, Red traitors like Mulhearn run the council, and the likes of Showers control the shock troops on the ground, Red revolution ceases to be a fantasy of the paranoid right. Their common purpose and goal was to defeat the state. The state – at local level – was defended by the police. For some a revolutionary climate would result, for others unfettered criminality. Their timing was out and they missed their chance, but the intention was there.

Ken Oxford clung to the shallow-minded belief that he could appease those lining up to lynch him, with concession after concession. Giving in to Simey, Showers and the rest of their ilk would make it all go away. The rioters would all go home and he'd still be in line for a trip to Buckingham palace… Well, how wrong you were Mr Oxford. Oxford's cowardice put hundreds of his fellow policemen in jeopardy.
Some never fully recovered from the nightmare of July 5th. He abandoned
the decent law-abiding people of Toxteth, black and white, to anarchy and
the mercy of the mob
.

He left his men – thin on the ground – to be stabbed, beaten and almost killed, at the anti-Oxford/anti-police march staged by Showers and co. By caving in to the demands for a low-key police presence he placed the sensibilities of the mob above the safety of citizens. His record is one of vacillation, compromise, and kow-towing to the enemies of this country. The outcome was almost inevitable but he was
more concerned for his own career and future, than the attacks on his men
in the street. Unwilling to risk damaging the cosy liberal consensus he
abrogated his responsibilities while Toxteth burned


Perhaps I shouldn't be too judgemental about Ken Oxford, should try to understand the immense pressure he was under… At such a stressful time he was still capable of rational thought. This was evidenced when he accused, "One hundred thieves and vagabonds living in Toxteth." Of being ring-leaders of the violence. He further inflamed local feeling with his description of black Liverpudlians as, "The product of liaisons between white prostitutes and black sailors."
The Chief Constable of Manchester, James Anderton, was subject to similar political pressures, the usual suspects queuing up to get him. Yet he never caved-in to the mob, or those in league with them. No, Anderton lined up the force's Land Rovers, lights on full beam, and ordered them driven at the rioters. This had the desired effect, having them running for their lives. The next best thing, perhaps, to the `whiff of grape-shot' Napoleon prescribed. When Anderton did his duty the same types who'd attacked Oxford set about him in similar fashion. No conspiracy? Well I'm sorry, but I don't subscribe to the `no conspiracy' theory. As far as I'm concerned, it cannot be mere coincidence when politicians, the media and freaks-in-frocks (clergy) spout the same hatred, as if on cue, against anyone trying to uphold the rule of law. Their dreams of world revolution may be just that, but these termites are well and truly entrenched in our society, there at the beck and call of the mob, if favourable circumstances arise.


Wed Apr 16, 2008 5:34 pm

sithwalker
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evola_as_he_is Offline Send Email Oct 29, 2005
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The Fifth Estate was alive already decades ago, and has probably growing been growing. In the book "Action! Race Wars to Door Wars" the street-fighter NS ...
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