Day-after-day there are news stories illustrating the folly of letting Muslims reside in a free society. So frequently do these stories arrive that one could be forgiven for ceasing to pay attention to them. When reading the endless reports of terrorism, pimping, drugs, and fraud involving Muslims, the stories eventually run into each-other, blending into a single, undramatic hum. Few people are shocked by these things anymore.
As understandable as this is, it is also a travesty. Relaxing even psychologically into this sick routine is a betrayal of the country: its past and future.
It would serve us better to remember a few fundamental things.
If Islam ruins even one British life, then that is one more than needed to be ruined. Roll out a map. The British Isles are blessed with isolation. Our nearest neighbours are Scandinavian, French and Dutch. We are surrounded by good-tempered friends, and only one (arguable) ‘foe’ (France) who in-any-case displays no thirst for war and who is now in a military alliance with us.
Our Islands are situated in the North Sea. Global warming – if it devours anyone – will eat us last. The climate here is mild, calm and easy to adapt to. The rolling fields of England, Wales and Scotland could sustain the population on their own. The fuel we burn belongs to us too.
Culturally, Britain has long been pre-eminent among Western countries. Great Western literature began with William Shakespeare, and could have ended with him also, and still been illustrious. In his work, one can find, in finer form, all the garbled philosophies of Europe that came after him.
I could go on, but there’s no need.
The vital thing here is not to think “oh it’s a shame that my nation is suffering”, but to grasp once again how much of a shame it is. How much more of a shame it is that Britain is suffering than a hundred other countries of lesser importance.
I fear that some in Britain are coming to see the Muslim presence which befouls us as a fact-of-life. They think of it as an inevitability; something that comes along with modernity.
But it doesn’t. It comes to destroy modernity.
Anger like cheerfulness can grow tired. Unless it finds an outlet for release when still at its optimal level, then much of it is lost. When anger grows weak furthermore, it relaxes into a stupid kind of fatalism. “We must deserve this…”, “This must just be what the modern world is like…”
But there is nothing inevitable about misfortune. To believe that there is, is to think like a battered wife. When faced with an on-going insult, the challenge is to maintain a level of anger proportionate to the offence.
To regain the appropriate level of anger we must realise how good we could have had it, had the Muslims not moved here. Though we are currently forced to waste our passion in defence of the most basic liberties, we should not forget that we could have had much more than mere liberty. Britain was once home not just to freedom, but to unusual abundance and excellence too.