The powerful story of Tommy Robinson, former leader of the English Defence League (EDL) and a man persecuted by the British state, simply for standing up in support of British troops. Tommy describes growing up on the streets of Luton, a town plagued by Islamic extremism and criminal gangs and how his livelihood was taken from him when he led a street protest against it. Hounded through the courts and thrown to the Muslim underworld which runs England's prisons, when Tommy refused to be broken the police tried to blackmail him – into working for them.
As EDL demonstrations spread across the country, the police, weary of the confrontations and fearful of major civil unrest, decided they had to be stopped at all costs, although Tommy Robinson maintains that the demonstrations were peacefully intentioned, and without the counter-demos of Unite Against Fascism and Muslim groups there would have been little or no trouble.
A litany of incidents are described which Robinson believes proves the police were out to get him and his family. His accounts of police tactics against him–while turning a blind-eye to his opponents’ crimes–provide some of the most shocking details in the book.
The judiciary and prison services were apparently equally ruthless in their treatment of the young activist, and at times you read in appalled disbelief that this could have been happening in modern, civilized Britain when it sounds more like the handling of a political prisoner in Putin’s Russia.
Tommy Robinson has a rare ability to discomfort the cosy prevailing politically correct consensus, saying things most of would only dare mutter from behind a pint glass in a quiet corner of a pub. Not only saying such things, but communicating in a reasoned, informed manner.
To hear Robinson speaking in public, whether dispelling the prejudice of liberal reporters who have underestimated him, or captivating the Oxford Union (check it out on YouTube), it is hard to remain unimpressed.
The media establishment, particularly the BBC, will no doubt do its utmost to limit his appearances, only too aware of his potential popular appeal. But this, as he openly acknowledges, is the least of the dangers he faces.
Those that are vocal in opposition to Islam tend to have shortened life expectancies: think Pim Fortuyn, Theo Van Gogh, the staff of Charlie Ebdo. The list is much longer than that of course and will inevitably grow longer, with Tommy Robinson very much in the front line.
Not that he can expect much protection from the British authorities (unlike the 24 hour protection afforded to Salman Rushdie) despite innumerable threats and beatings.
Undoubtedly many British people are deeply concerned by the rise of militant Islam but are too cowed by the 21st Century tyrannies of Islamist violence and liberal thought control to speak out.
Not so Tommy Robinson.
He was talking of child-grooming gangs long before the authorities were forced to accept it; he also mentioned the alarming radicalization going on in prisons, which he witnessed first-hand, and recommended the segregation of Muslim and non-Muslim prisoners, something the government is only now advocating.
He is also tireless in revealing the misogyny, homophobia, general intolerance and pursuit of domination that he believes are all endorsed in the pages of the Koran.
Such vices that would be condemned as Fascism were they propounded by the white, working-class are somehow afforded protection and sympathy when their adherents are dark-skinned and foreign in origin.
And the notion that a man who is routinely and lazily labelled „racist“ could actually be the strongest opponent of this new and deadly manifestation of fascism is an irony that appears lost on everyone.