By Man of Kent -It is a hot summer’s day in 2066. A delegation of top Muslim theocrats is being welcomed into 10 Downing Street for talks with the new prime minister, Maulana Asmatullah.
Meanwhile in Buckingham Palace the doddery old King William is reluctantly preparing to receive another delegation, a dozen Muslim politicians whose convoy of cars is being waved through the gates by smiling Muslim policemen shouting, ‘Allahu akbar!’ in regional English accents.
King William sprays on cologne, aware that even after a bath or shower he still smells sourly of old age. He has come to dread his public duties.
Dining at functions has become a particular problem, for he occasionally spills soup on himself, staining his lapel. Several times during these dinners he has to dry his eyes with his serviette because they are watering.
During coffee he sometimes falls asleep.
He had nodded off just before the Muslims arrived, and had to be woken up by a lackey. His reaction on waking up was panic.
He thought no, they should come back another day, he was in no condition to receive visitors, there was nothing to talk about.
His panic was caused partly by deafness. He is never certain any more what anyone says. Though he is resigned to the fact that deafness is another of the many irremediable defects of old age, it is still inconvenient and embarrassing at meetings such as the one he is about to endure - indeed, especially at meetings such as this one, for he knows his sole duty today is to listen.
These visitors are mainly Pakistanis, and the king is aghast at one of their non-negotiable demands, that his grand-daughter marries a Pakistani. They hope this will strengthen the legitimacy of what is in effect a conquest.
Cursing his deafness, he is not sure he has heard right, and asks them to repeat it, a bit louder. They obligingly do so, almost shouting.
Continuing to speak louder than usual for his benefit, they argue that a similar thing almost happened once.
If the crash in the Paris underpass had not occurred, his mother would have married the Muslim boyfriend who also died and they would have had Muslim children, who would have been members of the royal family.
William feels like blurting out that it was precisely to prevent this that the crash was engineered, but feels it would not be diplomatic. And anyway, he is not in a position to refuse.
Although it is a hot day and they are indoors two of the men are wearing overcoats, and never take their hands out of the pockets, and he had been often enough in war zones all those decades ago to know this is because they are keeping their hand on a gun.
In those days, such people were part of his bodyguard. The formal tone of these bearded visitors is tinged with a fundamental hostility.
It is an unpleasant conversation.
The king, deaf, a bit senile and still numb from the recent death of his beloved wife Kate, does not fully understand what is happening. He vaguely wonders why all these men in his palace have a bushy beard but a shaved upper lip, and assumes it is simply the current fashion.
Their leader seems to be one clothed in Muslim ecclesiastical robes and turban. He dominates the group.
This one, stroking his forest of beard, says loudly to William, ‘A solid government is now at last ruling the land,’ adding that the security of the Crown will be guaranteed, the power of the monarch even strengthened, but that ‘a purifying fire will rage through the stinking realm’. And then he announces that the coronation oath will need to be abolished.
Now the king understands.
This announcement, more than anything else, signifies to him that a revolution has taken place, that the influence of Muslims in politics is a disease. And that England has now succumbed.
Throughout the 8th and 9th centuries the Archbishops of Canterbury had gradually acquired control over the Church in kingdoms of England other than Kent, and with that control gained influence and power, including conducting the coronation ceremony. Archbishop Athelm (914-23) composed a coronation service for English monarchs, introducing the actual crown in the ceremony for the first time, and crowning the monarch became one of Canterbury’s most valued privileges.
It was the discord that arose from the use of the Archbishop of York at a coronation instead of the Archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Becket, which led to Becket being murdered by four knights in the cathedral in 1170.
In 1953 Archbishop Fisher, robed in white and gold, had said to William’s grandmother at her coronation, according to custom: ‘Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel?
Will you to the utmost of your power maintain in the United Kingdom the Protestant Reformed Religion established by law? Will you maintain and preserve inviolable the settlement of the Church of England, and the doctrine, worship, discipline, and government thereof, as by law established in England?
And will you preserve unto the Bishops and Clergy of England, and to the Churches there committed to their charge, all such rights and privileges, as by law do or shall appertain to them or any of them?’
And Elizabeth had replied, according to custom: ‘All this I promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. So help me God.’
She solemnly confirmed that one of her titles as the monarch would be ‘Defender of the [Christian] Faith’.
In the following decades Prince Charles often said he would like the coronation oath to be changed so that he would be ‘Defender of Faith’, a champion of all religions; and this was duly done for his coronation.
William now realises that altering the oath, first at his father’s coronation and then at his own, was a significant mistake, a concession, like all those concessions over so many decades, regarded as weakness by its supposed beneficiaries, and as a base from which could be demanded more concessions.
In the circumstances, the next coronation could not be far off. And now, when only a culture suffused with the doctrines and values of Christianity can save old Albion from the darkness that is sharia, it will contain no oath at all.
With the discarding of the commitment to Christianity, Charles was discredited, while William himself from the very beginning of his reign was known as William the Conquered.
The monarchy shares many rituals with the Church of England. William remembers at his coronation the sacerdotal robe of gold being placed upon him, in the same ritual that consecrates a Church of England bishop, stiff archaic gold that might have sheathed a Byzantine priest.
For how long will these swarthy bearded men with their impassive faces, men supremely self-contained and indifferent, permit such rituals after the removal of the coronation oath? The old world is clearly going.
What will replace it? Where will it all end?
After the bearded guests had left the palace, the king, jolted into awareness by the imposition of a foreign ideology, belatedly realises that Islam is the ultimate wickedness and stupidity, an evil and direct threat to civilisation.
‘A country is not the land that it holds, but the opinions of the people in it,’ he ruefully muses.
‘For a century now, too many of those settled in England have owed their allegiance to Islam and their ancestral homelands.
‘Their opinions, which they aggressively proclaim as eternal verities, have destroyed England. Everywhere now instead of harmony there is hideous discord. Instead of peace there is conflict.
They are as much aggressors as if they had come wielding weapons. We made the sword we carried blunter and blunter by degrees from feelings of humanity, and now the arm has been lopped from our body with a sharp scimitar.
‘In 2012, attempting to allay mounting disquiet, we said, “Muslims only make up five per cent of our population.” A decade later we said, “The followers of the Prophet in our country comprise only ten per cent.” Ten years after that we said, “The worshippers of Allah among us are only fifteen per cent.”
Muslims multiplied until they were numerous enough to seize power, as their leaders had always said they would. By an extraordinary combination of circumstances, immigrants from some of the most hellish, backward, corrupt countries in the world have been permitted to take control of England.
Why did we allow this to happen? What possessed us? We should have held on to our contempt. It might have steeled us against catastrophe.
‘We should never have let these Muslims loose in our own land. We should have done all we could to stop them. We knew that their religion is also their politics.
For 100 years we allowed doom-laden planes to land at our airports, welcoming the invaders, ignoring the threat, enabling our professions and institutions to be swamped by them.’
The old king wipes his constantly weeping eyes.
He thinks about all the indigenous writers who, for decades, concerned about their personal safety, wrote about other things, as though anything else mattered, all those trillions of words signifying nothing but cowardice. Journalists, broadcasters, academics and publishers had stayed silent as Islam threatened the basic standards of intellectual life.
Fear paralysed their best instincts. The vengeance of foreigners permeated and rotted the whole of society.
During those decades, the road to power of Islam was paved by useful idiots who found compelling the Muslims’ petty-minded, moralising interventions in the lives of others, the desire of straggly-bearded men who venerated medieval Bedouins to lord it over everyone else.
The swarthy settlers stealthily progressed their cultural tyranny from neighbourhood to neighbourhood. When things inevitably did not work out as they promised, they had a get-out clause.
The people had not yet embraced Islam with the requisite fervour. As fundamentalism only ever deepens public hypocrisy, not public morality, cynicism will now have become all-pervasive.
It seems inconceivable to William that his kingdom could be taken over by these men wearing joke-shop beards presumably held in place by hooks over the ears.
It is as if the Sioux had taken over the American continent or the Picts the Roman Empire.
Long before he became king, he had often seen alarming statistics, but he ignored them.
Enjoying himself too much gallivanting round the world with Kate, he never took the trouble to think about them; and now salvation seems to lie only with nationalists, so long reviled, whose activities, through necessity, now include the distribution of arms.
Episodes of civil strife have been escalating.
The new rulers try to hide the larval war with distracted decrees, calling the strife mere tumult. But others are calling it an insurrection. The insurgents are mainly indigenous English based in the countryside, compelled to attack their own land as though it were a hostile power.
Internal dissension is the one destructive influence that brings down great countries; and England is split in two. A polarisation has taken place, each side moving further and further apart with nothing to link them, for now there are truly two nations in England. Parliament is full of tension and strife, the struggle starkly between basic democratic principles and an authoritarian theocratic ideology.
The two factions do not want to share the same set of customs and the same laws. Unprecedented brawling occurs in the historic debating chamber that is now a battleground of conflicting passions.
Observing different laws is clearly an untenable situation and, after decades of progressive disintegration, cataclysmic conflict looms.
News is coming through of the threat of assassinations. Several indigenous politicians are targeted. The fatwa has not yet been issued, as the powerful Grand Mullah of England, Abdul Bablu, is squeamish in the face of the prospect of his vilification by the still mighty USA.
He is seeking a way of disposing of his enemies legally, in the full odour of the despised infidel justice…
William yearns for bed, for oblivion, and does not know if this is age, grief or the times. ‘And,’ he muses, ‘if the bearded ones hold on despite rebellions and uprisings, they will become the rulers of the English for...’ He baulks at the thought. ‘Well, I suppose... for ever.’
The takeover of power occurs with some speed, almost artlessly. Acts and laws are passed, edicts issued. A new cabinet post, for religious affairs, is created, the man holding it the Islamic cleric who had led the delegation to the palace.
This cleric had recently been recorded on YouTube earnestly taking issue with a genie (who naturally remained unseen off camera).
This Minister for Religious Affairs launches a campaign to demolish all churches, with mosques or madrasas erected on their sites where feasible. Some councils object, usually for architectural or history reasons, not religious, but as most councillors in the country are now Muslim it is believed the campaign will be largely successful, especially after the Archbishop of Canterbury, Yoweri Muamba (the second African to hold the post), embracing Grand Mullah Abdul Bablu in front of an assembled crowd at a big meeting, makes him a gift of ten churches, to be turned into mosques.
It is the day’s most tender and moving moment.
The pious had always been vulnerable to the Muslim priesthood who looked to Mecca. None of the Archbishops of Canterbury for the last 80 years had had a clear basis for their policies on English Islam other than taking the line of least resistance.
They were usually to be found nailing their colours to the fence. When the one thing that mattered was to prevent Muslims taking possession of the country, when resistance was the only reasonable action, all of them, on taking office, kept to the policy of appeasing Islam. One recanted, and became known as the Archbishop of re-Canterbury.
His successor, seeing that the Muslims had been offended by this defiance, cravenly resumed, and even intensified, the old grovelling. And now their respect for all religion, echoing that of the monarch, had caused the destruction of their own.
The town of Canterbury, which attracted pilgrims and tourists from all over the world, will inevitably decline.
The Canterbury Tales has already have gone out of print for the first time in centuries, its continued publication discouraged by imams concerned about the rude bits, despite the salacious scenes and the bawdy stories in the medieval Arabic Thousand and One Nights such as ‘The Historic Fart’.
In other campaigns, committees of virtuous Muslim citizens are petitioning to change the names of streets, erasing the names of fiendish monarchs and ministers and bloodthirsty soldiers and sailors and replacing them with heroes of Islam; tarpaulin is already in place on Salisbury Plain to cover the pagan Stonehenge; and the sight and sound of ‘ham’ offends some Muslims so much they have launched a petition to remove it from place-names such as Birmingham and Nottingham.
Ham, naturally, will no longer be available. It is against the law to make, import, sell or eat it, along with bacon, sausages and pork pies. The punishment for breaking this law is a public flogging; but as there is not a single pig left in England such retribution has not been necessary for several years.
Tens of thousands of pigs were slaughtered by the state, allegedly to prevent swine flu. Many Muslims were secretly relieved, flu or no flu.
The sharia court that passed the last sentence ensured the judgment made as big an impact as possible by having it carried out in Melton Mowbray. (Just as the phrase ‘on tenterhooks’ has continued to be used long after anyone knows what a tenterhook is or was, so Cockneys still use the rhyming slang ‘to tell porkies’ even though pork pies no longer exist.)
Indigenous people miss their bacon. The famous traditional cooked breakfast fry-up is still advertised as ‘full English’ by the ethnics who fry and sell it but lacking bacon and pork sausages is really only half-full and is losing its appeal.
In 2010 a young Islamic scholar named Sheikh Rizwan Mohammed decreed, after much earnest debate, that Muslims were allowed to eat halal haggis; and a man named Ade Adeluwoye wrote in a blog, ‘I believe rice, peas and jerk chicken is an icon of England’.
But the true national dish of the English people now is humble pie.
Knives and forks will have gone out of fashion. Everyone now will eat with their fingers. Following the universal rule that those who adopt a foreign culture observe only its worst manifestations, ignoring moderating nuances and subtleties, and the custom of having meals together seated at a table having long been abandoned, urban indigenous people when eating will now resemble feeding monkeys.
Municipal swimming baths will all have times set aside exclusively for burkini-clad female Muslims. (Indigenous people no longer use public pools anyway, scared by reports of children at some of them catching an Arab pox, ophthalmic gonorrhoea.)
Sumptuary laws will forbid many styles of dress. The English language will undergo subtle changes. ‘Fair’, which had come to mean not just pale but also beautiful and just, will revert solely to its original meaning.
Restaurant chains such as Pizza Hut that have been taken over by Muslim businessmen will in the month of Ramadan only be open for two hours at dusk.
Non-Muslims officially will have the status of dhimmitude, made subject to a number of humiliating regulations designed to enforce the Koran’s command that they ‘feel themselves subdued’, denied equality of rights and dignity by sharia law.
In the past in Islamic societies there were periods of tolerance when Christians were able to take part and live normally but the structured discrimination and injustice of the dhimma always prevented their full participation and led to periodic persecution and violence.
Following the ancient custom wherever Muslims have seized power, all adult non-Muslim males will have to pay a poll tax, jizya, as punishment for not believing in Allah and the sanctity of the Prophet.
Payment is sometimes accompanied by a slap in the face to remind the infidel who is in charge. State and religion will again be joined, a system last seen in England in the 17th century, after which Christianity was de-politicised and religion became an unthreatening, private matter.
The English will no longer feel at home in England. Suspicious of such enthusiasms as deep religious devotion, extravagant piety, even when they themselves were reasonably religious, they will now be in the position of having to show respect to the fervent devotees of an alien religion who, on seizing power, have created a theocracy.
The oppressive influence of this totalitarian religion will be repellent. The English will be so fed up with the indignities of dhimmitude, the burden and humiliation of jizya, the new restrictions and at being woken up every morning at 5am by the amplified call to prayer from the nearby mosque, that many will leave the country, straining the resources of the three main countries they flee to - Australia, New Zealand and Canada.
Those who remain will struggle to obey, and in general come to terms with, the new theocracy. As with all totalitarian regimes, there will be now so many crimes against the state it will be difficult to keep pace with them.
Most English will be living in the shires. Towns will be dominated by ethnics, many of whom, smug in their security, practise religion as a mere state function.
Ambitious men will cynically convert to Islam in the same spirit as many people in the Soviet Union joined the Communist Party, as a career move, patiently overcoming the difficulties placed in their way by bureaucrats who prefer that they remain infidels paying the poll tax.
England will now be run by cynics who recognise that slavish obedience is the way to succeed, both politically and financially. The successful men will have benefited, and so will now like the security of the existing arrangement better than the dangerous uncertainties of the previous set-up, even though the upper echelons of the political, legal and financial systems will now be operating largely on the basis of nepotism and bribery.
The more successful or higher up men will be the greater their insincerity, their features always carefully arranged in a blend of humility and arrogance, disdain and flattery.
Powerful bureaucrats will exude an air of abstracted benevolence tinged with cunning, a pleasantness masking a secret edge of cruelty.
At best there will be a smug paternalism; at worst a dismissive contempt. They will take perverse pleasure in using more and more Arabic words in their dealings with indigenous people, to confuse and humiliate them, enjoying their discomfiture at their incomprehension, wilfully making communication increasingly difficult. (Muslim shopkeepers however will keep their speech in simple English.)
Feminists and homosexuals will lament their lost rights, decades of struggle negated, ruefully reflecting that everything is relative. Nigerian Muslims who had settled in England illegally in the first place with forged documents will now use their religious connections with rulers and bureaucrats to establish themselves as powerful criminals.
London will be purulent with lies, violence and greed.
Most of the indigenous English who remain in towns will be the lumpen proletariat, blank-eyed swaggering halfwits who behave like drunks even when sober, floppy and heedless, slurring their words and grunting.
The new lumpen grunt is not the same as the old working-class dialects. Proud of their extensive tattoos, in all but the coldest weather they will wear nothing but designer loincloths.
Their exposed bodies will be something of what the race had been but they will have lost strength and substance, so thin and grey they seem almost transparent, defined only by the tattoos that cover them. The form will still be the same, but faded and diminished.
The animating health and vigour will have gone.
Sixteen centuries have passed since Hengist and Horsa and their band of flaxen-haired warriors clambered ashore like excited children by the Thanet cliffs, and, a few decades later, along the same stretch of coast, Augustine arrived with his group of fellow reluctant monks in a more dignified manner.
The English race, with its new religion, needed a strong will, proud, disciplined and sustained, to survive at all. England did survive, progressing from tiny settlements to insecure kingdoms to a prosperous country of independent people, achieving success through unique merits.
What is happening now is close to racial suicide.
Those who had believed the races would mingle and form a new race will have been proved wrong. So little integration will have taken place the races will have actually grown apart; it will be now easy to believe them of different species.
Compromise will have proved impossible, a cultural no-man’s land. Ancestral culture will still be influencing psyche generations after the settlers came. Indeed, as though recognising they can never fully adapt, many settlers’ offspring seem determined to assert the practices of their ancestral homeland to the point of caricature.
The proles will be capricious and undignified, easily provoked into hysteria, any vestige of a sense of pride having been eroded away by the humiliations of dhimmitude.
Because English-speakers cannot easily make the ‘dh’ sound the status will be commonly pronounced ‘dimmitude’, leading to those of it being known, even among themselves, as ‘the dims’.
Some dims will be so out of touch with the world around them they will not be certain what their country is called, confusing it with the name of their town, which is the only world they know.
Indeed the name England will now be rarely heard, the dominant Muslims avoiding its use as much as possible as a sort of semi-official policy, arguing, so far only in private among themselves, that as England is no longer the land of the English its name should be changed.
Some say it seems a shame to elide centuries of history, while others say it is the will of Allah, and cite the examples of Brittany and Normandy, both of which acquired their new names to reflect the reality of a newly dominant race.
As there are no jobs for the dims anyway the new rulers, to prevent riots, will have retained the Social Security system, so the dims will be under no compulsion to earn a living, and are bored.
They will gamble not out of avarice but out of boredom, drink not because they are thirsty but because they are bored, even commit suicide not from despair but frivolously from ennui.
Frivolity will form the sole consideration of their lives. To justify their subculture of lifelong laziness they will have developed a shallow, convenient philosophy in which work is horrible and absurd; people are born only for pleasure; the essence of human nature is to enjoy oneself, and all the rest is folly.
They will regard this trite philosophy as a sort of vision, and not just an excuse for endlessly doing nothing.
In their boredom, they will multiply almost at the Muslim rate (which will slow down now that its political objective has been achieved).
Their personal relationships will be their main diversion. The relationships will therefore be kaleidoscopic, both intense and shallow, for there is never any mutual interest in them other than the avoidance of the ever-encroaching ennui.
Family life will have broken down. Couples will seldom stay together for long. The women typically will have several children all by different fathers.
These children will be feral. Scrofulous, rickety or deformed, they will belong to no proper family and the authorities will have abandoned them. Compulsory education will also have broken down, state schools devoting too much time to study of the Koran and the teaching of Arabic, and science removed from the curriculum.
Health services too will have almost ceased to function, mainly because, despite the exodus of indigenous people, the population will simply be far too great, and diseases once eradicated in England or under control will again spoil many lives and claim many victims.
Tuberculosis, re-introduced into the country by settlers from the Indian subcontinent in the first decade of the 21st century, will again ravage towns. HIV, fetched and spread by heterosexual Africans in those same years, will become widespread.
The feral children, left to fend for themselves from an early age, and given little affection, will form gangs, and they will regard their gang as their family.
They will spend much of their time fighting other gangs. Battles will be fought between the gangs of several districts for no reason other than that those of one district have seen a chance to surprise those of another before they are prepared. If no such opportunity presents itself, and no other enemies are around, they will fight among themselves.
This will happen rarely however, for there will be usually plenty of other enemies to fight - supporters of a rival football club, black gangs, Muslim morality vigilantes…
This feral generation of ignorant, illiterate, diseased bastards called dims, roaming the streets in gangs seeking someone to fight, will be all that remains in towns of an ancient sturdy race.
Society will be ruled and policed by swarthy sanctimonious men who consult nothing but their old books. If they there discover a foolish horrid custom, they consider it a sacred law.
From this vile practice of not daring to think for themselves, but of always extracting their ideas from a place and time where no one thinks at all, superstition and myth will, as in that faraway place and distant past, be elevated to the status of a dominant religion.
This will curb some of the excesses of capitalism but will also stifle, and often actively suppress, all creativity.
The dims will despise their rulers but keep quiet when a contemptuous, haughty official truculently warns them that to persist in a ‘bad attitude’, meaning to question Islamic beliefs, carries the danger of being regarded as an enemy of the state.
Muslims always hated being laughed at and will now be in a position to take harsh revenge.
England will be catastrophically ruined. It will have succumbed to a totalitarian dark age, its history re-written, a different country with different people.
In the ruins, those English folk not demoralised by dhimmitude, remnants of a disinherited race, reach out to one another, support each other and organise the resistance.
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