The first time I met Tommy Robinson I told him to fuck off. The English Defence League (EDL) had just formed and Robinson came up to me after a public interview I was doing in London. Without knowing anything much about them, I am afraid I assumed (white, working-class, Cross of St George at demos) that the EDL were a British National Party front. Which was why I ended up advising him of the procreative way in which to travel. He took it very politely, said he understood that I didn’t know their views and then said, ‘We’re not racists — we’re just working-class guys who are losing our country and can’t bear it.’
Last week, four-and-a-half-years on, we met again. Several days earlier Robinson had announced he was leaving the movement he had formed, saying — to some guffawing — that he was no longer able to control the genuine far-right elements who sought to hijack his movement.

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