Thereâs a man in Camden tearing Restore leaflets, and it isnât a sideshow.
Itâs happened twice in the same week: 19 September, then the 26th, same by-election and the same method.
Campaigners put leaflets through doors and a crowd decides that that leaflet isnât allowed to exist. Stand Up to Racism calls it anti-fascism, the official language calls it protest, and the camera shows something plainer than either-literature snatched and ripped while the people delivering it get the escort, the conditions and the lecture.
Thatâs the pattern.
Itâs not debate.
Itâs destruction.
Two-tier policing is not a slogan invented on the internet. It is who the state fears and who it lectures.
A British crowd that objects to hotels, boats, or the rewriting of their past is met with cameras and the full vocabulary of extremism.
A Stand up to racism crowd can occupy the same civic space, follow canvassers down the street, and be described as colourful, vibrant, or âlargely without incident.â
The difference is not volume.
It is permission.
The judiciary and the wider apparatus did not stumble into this. They absorbed an ideology that treats British attachment as suspect and minority grievance as sacred. Once that decision is made, every subsequent choice follows that ideology: who is investigated quickly, who is explained away, who gets the press officer and who gets the cell.
You do not have to like the party holding the leaflet. Like it or not, mass immigration is still the multiplying factor in the problems we face in housing, schools, wages, law and the future prospects of the young.
The argument on the leaflet is that the country did not consent to this scale of settlement. Tearing the paper does not refute the argument. It forbids the public from reading it.
The British public faces the state. Other groups often face the state as an ally. Camden is London doing it in daylight. Tyneside already knows the arrangement. The paper is cheap. The permission is not.