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27 August 2007
The fear of the warmongers as it all slips away.
Wake up, people, and smell the fear. The fear of the warmongers as they wake up to the fact that their Iraqi dream is over and their British nightmare is about to begin. The aim was to rape Iraq, to turn it into a puppet of western capitalism that would open its doors to foreign corporate pillage, recognise Israel and act at a base for further Anglo-American aggression in the region. How quickly the dreams faded when faced with those brave young men with their AK-47 rifles, their roadside bombs and their sheer, matchless courage. A courage that took on the mightiest war machine that the world has ever seen, and fought it to a bloody standstill.

Faced with this terrible reality a group of webmongers decided to save face with one victory. Something that they could point to and say, "Well, at least we were able to do this." The fact that over 160 British soldiers are dead, hundreds more injured and the rest huddled in Basra airport praying for the final order to leave Iraq, doesn't enter their minds. All that matters is having something to point to; something that they can call a victory. Something to save face.

That something is, of course, the 20,000 Iraqi collaborators that these webmongers want to bring over to the United Kingdom. It must have seemed like the answer to their sad, pathetic prayers: the end of the Iraqi adventure, but with the smug satisfaction that would come the day they stood at Heathrow Airport and welcomed over the first batch of collaborators to Britain. The fact that the British army would still be fighting in Iraq never entered their minds. British soldiers are cut from the same cloth as the rest of the working class that these creatures despise, so let them stay and bleed in the sands of Mesopotamia.

Unfortunately, their little wheeze ran into problems. Not just because two men, myself and the journalist Neil Clark, began to write in opposition to the whole lunatic idea, but because they found that MPs were not exactly lining up to be counted. The only newspaper that took up the collaborators' case was The Times. How right and proper it was that The Times, a rag written by scabs, printed by scabs and read by scabs should take up the call for these Iraqi scabs.

A few days ago I learned that some of the local, evening newspapers had taken up the story and that people had begun to write to their letters' pages opposing the entry of these collaborators. That for me was the end of the story, because there was nothing more that I could do. I began to think about other, more important, things. Going fishing. Important matters like that.

Yesterday something happened that made me realise just how desperate the webmongers have become. This puerile rant was posted at Harry's Place, probably as a last throw of the dice to try and influence public opinion. The basic thrust - or fast hand movement, since the writer does come over as being addicted to Onanism - is to smear myself and Neil. "Look how nasty they are," the webmonger seems to scream. "So let's bring over 20,00 harkis and show everyone how decent we are." A cursory reading of the text will demonstrate that no mention is made of the 5,500 British soldiers who are still trying to survive Iraq; presumably the writer just does not think that they are all that important.

Why I have I called this post desperate? Well, it would not have been written had things been going the webmongers' way, now would it? They would be patting themselves on the back and feeling all warm inside. The fact that one of them felt the need to scream in such a precious way, only further strengthens the case that these 'mongers feel that their one and only victory is sliding out of their grasp.

Aside from this, the hysteria with which the post was so obviously composed, betrays the writer's true feeling towards the British working class. He quotes my own words, when I argued that these collaborators would take council houses and jobs. To him that is proof of my rightist tendencies. To me it is evidence that this creature belongs to the ranks of that new kulak substrata of teachers, social workers and council managers who all together make the lives of working class people so difficult. Like the kulaks of old, they are close enough to us that we treat them with contempt as the the two-legged cockroaches that they are.

People might want to think about that, and then get out pen and paper and start writing letters to newspapers and MPs.

So, will it work, this desperate throw of the dice? I don't think so. I think that matters will be allowed to drift, with maybe a few token harkis brought over as a sop to hand-wringing opinion. The rest will be left to take their chances. That is how it should be, because the harkis are not our problem, and Iraq is not our war.

It's your problem, webmongers. Your problem, your harkis and your lost war!

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