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If illegals are illegal, why are their babies citizens?

June 27, 2025/3 Comments/in General/by Ann Coulter

If illegals are illegal, why are their babies citizens?

On his first day in office — of his second term, not his wasted first term — President Trump signed an executive order ending anchor babies, the practice of treating kids born to illegals on U.S. soil as full-fledged citizens. (Apparently, our Founding Fathers wanted to ensure that poverty-stricken third-worlders who force their way into our country would never have to leave.)

Three federal district court judges promptly issued (you’ll never guess) nationwide injunctions blocking Trump’s order. The Supreme Court is expected to rule on those injunctions any day now.

It may be that the anchor baby lunacy is, as the Manhattan Institute’s Robert Verbruggen says,”a nutty policy we’re probably stuck with.” The exclusionary rule was invented out of whole cloth, too, and it also did great damage to the country. But given a golden opportunity to overturn Miranda 25 years ago, the court passed. Longevity trumped reality.

That is clearly the assumption of smug liberals sneering that Trump’s executive order is”blatantly unconstitutional,” as one injunction-happy judge put it. Their sublime confidence in the permanence of a made-up constitutional right is awe-inspiring.

The way liberals (and Fox News) carry on about the sacred right of illegals to give birth to anchor babies, you’d think the Constitutional Convention consisted of little else than James Madison imploring his fellow delegates to ensure that Mexicans who sneak across the border and drop a baby would be able to start collecting welfare right away.

In fact, the whole “birthright citizenship” scam is based on a wildly expansive interpretation of post-Civil War amendments that were designed to help Blacks and former slaves. Birthright citizenship, let alone the anchor baby con, has nothing to do with the original Constitution. And as Trump keeps saying, the post-Civil War amendments, such as the 14th, are all about slavery.

But liberals are masters of taking ideas from the fringes of academia and cementing them onto the Constitution. Crackpot “rights” no one had ever heard of before go from absurdity to inviolable in about five minutes, and suddenly, you’re a kook or a racist if you disagree.

Other rights on the Fringe-to-Constitution conveyor belt:

— The aforementioned Miranda right, requiring courts to throw out criminal confessions simply because the cop screwed up, was invented by Yale Kamisar in the early ’60s and adopted by the Supreme Court in 1966.

— “Disparate impact,” allowing test results alone to prove race discrimination, was invented by Robert Belton in the ’60s and adopted by the Supreme Court in 1971.

— “New Property,” treating welfare as “property,” deserving due process rights, was invented by Yale law professor Charles Reich in 1964 and adopted by the Supreme Court in 1970.

The genesis of anchor babies is even less weighty than these nouveau “rights.” Citing a 1912 book by the register of copyrights Clement L. Bouve, Justice William Brennan slipped the idea of anchor babies into footnote 10 in 1982, but it was never adopted by the court. Brennan’s footnote was mere dicta, i.e., an irrelevant aside, of no legal import.

It’s not as if no one had ever noticed the 14th Amendment until Justice Brennan came along. There’s more than a century of Supreme Court jurisprudence blathering about its meaning. Here’s an abbreviated summary:

— Slaughterhouse Cases, 1873 — i.e. five years after the Civil rights amendments were adopted, so the justices probably had some idea what they were talking about:

“[O]n the most casual examination of the language of these amendments, no one can fail to be impressed with the one pervading purpose found in them all, lying at the foundation of each, and without which none of them would have been even suggested; we mean the freedom of the slave race, the security and firm establishment of that freedom, and the protection of the newly-made freeman and citizen from the oppressions of those who had formerly exercised unlimited dominion over him.”

— Ex Parte Virginia, 1879 — six years after the amendments were adopted. Notice: nothing about Mexicans running across our border when they’re eight months pregnant:

“[The 13th and 14th amendments] were primarily designed to give freedom to persons of the African race, prevent their future enslavement, make them citizens, prevent discriminating State legislation against their rights as freemen, and secure to them the ballot. …

“[N]otwithstanding the amendment …, the freedmen were, by legislation in some of the Southern States, subjected to such burdensome disabilities in the acquisition and enjoyment of property, and the pursuit of happiness, as to render their freedom of little value. …

“It thus removed from discussion the question … whether descendants of persons brought to this country and sold as slaves were citizens, within the meaning of the Constitution.”

— Strauder v. West Virginia, 1880, or seven years after the civil rights amendments were added to our Constitution. Again, nothing about pregnant Mexicans or Chinese birth tourists:

“The Fourteenth Amendment … is one of a series of constitutional provisions having a common purpose — namely, securing to a race recently emancipated, a race that, through many generations, had been held in slavery, all the civil rights that the superior race enjoy. The true spirit and meaning of the amendments … cannot be understood without keeping in view the history of the times when they were adopted and the general objects they plainly sought to accomplish.”

And that’s how it stood for more than a century until liberals latched onto Brennan’s non-binding footnote 10 and began browbeating the rest of us about anchor babies as if it were a fundamental principle in our founding document.

In fact, liberals’ reliance on Brennan’s footnote — it’s all they’ve got — proves that they are lying. If the natural, normal reading of the 14th Amendment is that anyone born on U.S. soil is a citizen, then why did Brennan have to say it?

No justice ever felt the need to drop a footnote to clarify that soldiers can’t be quartered in private homes in peacetime without the owner’s consent. You know why? Because that’s actually in the Constitution. Manifestly, anchor babies were not part of the accepted understanding of the 14th Amendment. These are the facts, no matter what the women on the Supreme Court have to say.

COPYRIGHT 2025 ANN COULTER

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 Ann Coulter https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png Ann Coulter2025-06-27 07:19:012025-06-27 07:19:27If illegals are illegal, why are their babies citizens?

Trump would not have won without non-White voters

June 26, 2025/4 Comments/in General/by Kevin MacDonald

The reality of American politics is that Trump would not have won without non-White voters. While Reagan likely would have won without appealing to non-Whites, Trump would not have. “Young, nonwhite and irregular voters defected by the millions to Mr. Trump, costing Ms. Harris both the Electoral College and the popular vote.”  Politics is the  art of the possible, and the fact is that Trump’s appeals to non-Whites were likely politically necessary to secure so many  of their votes, while explicit appeals to Whites likely would have repelled more Whites than they attracted.

The reality is that White advocates have to be satisfied with an implicitly White administration, and I believe that it is. In the Biden administration, all of the powerful positions were held by non-Whites (Homeland Security, Defense, State, Justice, Treasury, Health and Human Services, Housing and Urban Development, both of Biden’s Chiefs of Staff, not to mention Transportation Secretary Pete Buttigieg as a sexual minority and our affirmative action vice president and Democrat presidential nominee Kamala Harris. Anti-White activists like Kristen Clarke at the DOJ have left in droves or were fired. And now we find that a second-generation Indian leftist activist, Neera Tanden, was in charge of the autopen when Biden was basically brain dead. The Trump administration is pursuing anti-DEI and deporting illegals.  It’s what is possible right now.

Of course, much more will be needed to really secure a White future in the U.S. But unless you think worse is better in the long run (possible but not likely given Democrats’ penchant for open borders), this is about as good as it’s reasonable to expect. It’s what is possible now.

New Data Clarifies a Lingering Question on 2024 Turnout

Author Headshot By Nate Cohn

In the wake of last November’s election, many Democrats blamed low turnout for Kamala Harris’s defeat.

It wasn’t entirely without reason, as turnout dropped in Democratic areas, but many months later it is clear the blame was misplaced. Newly available data, based on authoritative voter turnout records, suggests that if anything, President Trump would have done even better if everyone had voted.

The new data, including a new study from Pew Research released Thursday, instead offers a more dispiriting explanation for Democrats: Young, nonwhite and irregular voters defected by the millions to Mr. Trump, costing Ms. Harris both the Electoral College and the popular vote.

The findings suggest that Mr. Trump’s brand of conservative populism once again turned politics-as-usual upside down, as his gains among disengaged voters deprived Democrats of their traditional advantage with this group, who are disproportionately young and nonwhite.

For a generation, the assumption that Democrats benefit from high turnout has underpinned the hopes and machinations of both parties, from Republican support for restrictive voting laws to Democratic hopes of mobilizing a new progressive coalition of young and nonwhite voters. It’s not clear whether Democrats will struggle with irregular voters in the future, but the data nonetheless essentially ends the debate about whether Ms. Harris lost because she alienated swing voters or because she failed to energize her base. In the end, Democrats alienated voters whose longtime support they might have taken for granted.

The 2024 election may feel like old news, especially in the wake of Zohran Mamdani’s upset victory in New York City on Tuesday, but the best data on the outcome has only recently become available. Over the last two months, the last few states updated their official records of who did or did not vote in the election. These records unlock the most authoritative studies of the electorate, which link voter turnout records to high-quality surveys.

The post-election studies aren’t perfect, but they all tell the same story: Nonvoters preferred Mr. Trump, even if only narrowly. None show Ms. Harris winning nonvoters by the wide margin she would have needed to overcome her deficit among those who turned out.

Figures from Blue Rose Research and The New York Times represent major party vote share. Figures from all studies except Pew Research’s are limited to registered voters. Figures from Blue Rose Research, The New York Times and Pew Research are based on matched data from voter records; the rest use self-reported voter status. The New York Times

It’s worth remembering that the actual election results appeared to suggest something very different. Ms. Harris received millions of fewer votes than Joe Biden did, and turnout plunged in many heavily Democratic areas. Similarly, a prominent post-election survey implied that millions of Biden voters stayed home. Together, it suggested that low turnout may have cost Ms. Harris the election, an argument echoed even by Tim Walz, her vice-presidential nominee.

In a sense, the voter turnout records confirm the post-election conventional wisdom: The voters who stayed home really were relatively “Democratic” — or at least they appeared to be Democrats. They were more Democratic by party registration or primary vote history than voters who turned out, with 26 percent Democrats and 17 percent Republicans (most nonvoters don’t participate in primaries or register with a major party). They were disproportionately young and nonwhite. On average, the new studies estimate that the voters who turned out in 2020 but not 2024 backed Mr. Biden over Mr. Trump by a double-digit margin.

The same studies nonetheless find that nonvoters wouldn’t have backed Ms. Harris if they had turned out to vote in 2024. At some point over the last few years, many of them soured on Democrats and stayed home as a result. If they had voted, many would have backed Mr. Trump.

The decline in Democratic support among young and nonwhite voters and the decline in Democratic turnout can be understood as part of a single phenomenon: As traditionally Democratic voters soured on their party, some decided to show up and vote for Mr. Trump and others simply decided to stay home. But if they did show up, polling data suggests they would have voted for Mr. Trump in surprising numbers.

Ms. Harris would have won only 72 percent of the registered Democrats who stayed home, according to estimates based on New York Times/Siena College data, compared with 89 percent of the registered Democrats who showed up. There’s no equivalent pattern of a drop in support for Mr. Trump among Republicans who stayed home.

Another factor helping to reconcile the new studies with the election tallies is that Ms. Harris may have been somewhat stronger among the narrower group of nonvoters who voted in 2020 but stayed home in 2024. On average across the studies, Ms. Harris and Mr. Trump were essentially tied among this group, with several studies showing Ms. Harris with an edge.

Nonetheless, Ms. Harris greatly underperformed how the same studies found Mr. Biden fared with the 2020-but-not-2024 group. She did not fare nearly well enough to prevail, even if these voters had returned to the electorate.

The voters the Democrats lost in 2024 may not be lost for good. Still, their willingness to support Mr. Trump may throw a wrench in Democratic strategies. Until now, Democrats mostly assumed that irregular young and nonwhite voters were so-called mobilization targets — voters who would back Democrats if they voted, but needed to be lured to the polls with more door knocks, more liberal voting laws or a more progressive candidate. At least for now, this assumption can’t be sustained.

This assumption had important implications in a decade-long debate about whether Democrats should win by mobilizing new voters or persuading swing voters. While this debate was seemingly about arcane electoral tactics, it was really a proxy for whether the party should move toward the left or the center, with progressives arguing that a bold agenda could motivate new voters and moderates saying the party needed to pivot toward the center to win swing voters.

This debate still goes on, but it does not make nearly as much sense as it did a few years ago. In the last election, the usual “mobilization” targets — the disengaged, the young, and low-turnout voters or nonvoters — became the swing voters. They swung to a candidate who stood against everything Democrats imagined that these voters represented.

This badly hurts the case for the usual mobilization argument, but it doesn’t as easily argue for a centrist candidate, either. The usual argument for “persuasion” imagined a very different group — predominantly suburban, moderate, white swing voters — who would more clearly be receptive to a moderate candidate. While the young and nonwhite voters are clearly not doctrinaire progressives, they are still deeply dissatisfied with the status quo and seek fundamental changes to America’s economic and political system. The case for a moderate like Mr. Biden in 2020 took Democratic support among young and nonwhite voters for granted, just as progressives did.

Either way, there isn’t such a clear distinction between persuasion and mobilization, if there ever was. Both wings of the party will need to go back to the drawing board.

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 Kevin MacDonald https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png Kevin MacDonald2025-06-26 11:34:312025-06-26 11:51:49Trump would not have won without non-White voters

Our People or ‘America’?: Looking Beyond Trump

June 26, 2025/6 Comments/in Featured Articles, White Racial Consciousness and Advocacy/by Mark Weber

Adapted from an address given on May 31, 2025, at a conference organized and hosted by James Edwards in Greenville, South Carolina.

Our host has brought us together this weekend to do more than diagnose and explain what’s gone wrong, or to call out those who are responsible. The focus of this conference, he explains, is “on how to effectively leverage the opportunities created by Donald Trump’s re-election,” and to “capitalize on the changing political climate.” Well, doing that demands an honest and realistic assessment of Trump’s career, the MAGA movement that grew from it, and the Trump presidency.

Donald Trump’s astonishing rise to power has been, above all, an expression of deep and growing unhappiness among Americans with what’s become of our country. The Trump-MAGA movement has given voice to the pent-up rage of millions — above all, White middle class and working Americans — who have been ignored and belittled by their political leaders, and who have been made to feel like strangers in their own country.

His success is the result of the mounting disappointment and anger at the ever more obvious failure of the establishment political parties and their leaders, who have held power for decades, and of those who have supported them in the mass media, in Hollywood, in business, and in school and college classrooms. Trump’s ascent to the White House is both a symptom and an accelerator of the breakdown of the liberal democratic order — and the ideology on which it is based — that has prevailed in our country and in western Europe since the end of World War II.

Trump has performed a great service by shaking things up. He has pushed Americans to acknowledge uncomfortable realities that those in power have wanted everyone to ignore. He has pressed Americans to re-consider such important issues as birthright citizenship, and “affirmative action” policies and other programs that discriminate against White citizens — issues that those in power had long regarded as “settled” and not open to question.

While acknowledging positive features of the Trump-MAGA movement, honesty compels us to also frankly acknowledge the very real limits of what that movement and the Trump administration can actually accomplish.

Donald Trump and MAGA movement leaders claim that America is no longer the great country it was and should be because it has been wrecked by evil people. To “Make America Great Again,” they believe, does not require a revolution. It requires only getting rid of those bad people who have done so much to wreck the country. In keeping with its character as a reactionary protest movement, Trump and MAGA Republicans focus on identifying their enemies and removing them from power and influence.

Trump and his colleagues and supporters are clear about who and what they do not like, and want to sweep away. They seem certain, for example, about what books they believe Americans should not read. Accordingly, the Trump administration has been busy removing from libraries books that foster anti-White attitudes, and notably those that promote “Diversity, Equity and Inclusion.” However, Trump and the MAGA movement seem to have no idea of just what books should be in libraries, or that Americans should be reading.

That’s because Trump and the MAGA movement has no coherent, self-consistent worldview or historical outlook of its own to replace the ideology that has prevailed in the U.S. for the past 80 years, and which has inexorably brought us to where we are today. As a result, the Trump-MAGA movement has no clear concept of the future other than a vague vision of an America that, once again, is “great” and “winning.”

So often we have heard Republican politicians and commentators tell us that the miserable conditions in U.S. cities — the decay, crime and disorder of Detroit, Philadelphia, Baltimore, and so on — are all because … the mayors of those cities are Democrats. Do they — does anyone — actually believe such nonsense? So often MAGA Republicans tell us that the Democrats are the “real racists,” and insist that, “we” should all think of ourselves simply as human beings and “Americans” — and that our goal is, or should be, a color-blind, non-racial America.

MAGA Republicans complain about “identity politics,” calling it “divisive” and “racist.” It’s difficult to believe that those who make such claims are sincere, given that Trump’s own campaign routinely practiced “identity politics,” with election appeals to Blacks, Hispanics, and Jews that promise benefits to members of those racial or ethnic groups.

As part of his effort to win support from Black voters in the 2020 election campaign, Donald Trump issued his so-called “Platinum Plan,” which promised that a second Trump administration would make “Juneteenth” a national holiday, and would set up a range of new federal programs that, he claimed, would “increase access to capital in Black communities by almost 500 billion dollars,” thereby “creating 500,000 new Black-owned businesses.” When President Biden later made Juneteenth an official federal holiday, Trump claimed credit for it because, he said, he was the one who made the idea “very famous.” During the 2024 presidential election cycle, both the Trump and Harris campaigns made “identity politics” appeals to Jews, running television ads that explained why each candidate was best for Jewish interests.

Although Trump and MAGA Republicans reject anti-White policies, and the outlook on which those polices are based, they do not have an explicitly pro-White outlook. Instead, they believe, or pretend to believe, that race does not matter — that America is so “exceptional” that this country is somehow immune from the realities of biology, of history, and of life itself.

Those who are serious about our country and our future, though, cannot afford to close their eyes to things as they really are. Work and sacrifice based on anything other than a frank and realistic understanding of the great challenges we face is a waste of time and effort. When we carefully consider just what can and should be done, we must be clear-eyed and honest about how profoundly the drastic racial-cultural transformation of our country over the past 80 years has changed everything. To be blunt, the Trump-MAGA diagnosis of what’s wrong with America, and therefore what’s to be done, is woefully inadequate.

In the years just after the end of World War II, the U.S. population was some 90 percent European American. Whites were even a majority in every large U.S. city. Today, only a handful of large U.S. cities still have a majority White population. As everyone here is very aware, the U.S. population is, or very soon will be, a majority non-White. MAGA Americans believe, or at least hope, that in spite of the radical cultural-racial change in the U.S. population since the 1950s, President Trump will somehow restore the united, purposeful U.S.A. of a bygone era.

Some of us here this weekend are old enough to remember how many millions of White Americans and so-called conservatives put great hope in Ronald Reagan, another Republican leader whose slogan in the 1980 presidential election campaign was “Let’s Make America Great Again.” In his acceptance speech at the Republican Party national convention that year, Reagan spoke about welcoming Haitians to the U.S., because — he explained — America is a providentially chosen country for people everywhere who yearn for freedom. “Can we doubt,” he said, “that only a divine providence placed this land, this island of freedom, here as a refuge for all those people in the world who yearn to breathe freely: Jews and Christians enduring persecution behind the Iron Curtain, the boat people of Southeast Asia, of Cuba and of Haiti, the victims of drought and famine in Africa, the freedom fighters of Afghanistan, and our own countrymen held in savage captivity.”

I remember the joy of victory shared by millions of White Americans when Reagan was elected president a few months later, and their happiness during the eight years he was in the White House — lifting spirits with inspiring, patriotic rhetoric about American greatness and exceptionalism. Like Trump, Ronald Reagan ignored race — and, not surprisingly, the country’s demographic and cultural de-Europeanization continued during the Reagan years at a brisk pace.

However thrilling election victories by politicians who promise a “great America” may make many of us feel, that is not what really matters. What’s important is not victory for a candidate or a party, but solid, purposeful policies for our people based on a coherent worldview grounded in reality.

During the 2024 election campaign, many MAGA voters were encouraged by the prospect that a second Trump administration would deport one or two or even ten million illegal immigrants. Most Trump supporters today still hope that sweeping policies and measures by the new administration might somehow turn back the clock, and restore an America that once was. The sober truth, though, is that even if all illegal immigration to the U.S. stops tomorrow, and every illegal immigrant is deported or leaves the country, the racial “third-worldization” of the U.S. — the de-Europeanization of the country — will continue, even if at a slower pace.

In his inaugural address in January, and in similar remarks on election night in November, Trump made a point of expressing thanks for the support he had gotten from “African Americans, Hispanic Americans, [and] Asian Americans.” He made no mention of the much more important, indeed, decisive support he received from White Americans. The reason for this “oversight,” if you will, is not ignorance.

To talk explicitly about White American voters, or White American heritage, or White American history, is somehow to detract from the comfortable but delusional assumption of so many of our people that White America is America, and that Blacks, Hispanics, and so forth, are more or less adjunct or peripheral population groups that “we” should either ignore or try to uplift and fit in to “our” great country. Until the middle of the twentieth century, nearly all Americans understood and acknowledged the obvious reality that race matters. Today that’s no longer true. For more than 80 years, White Americans have been subjected to a systematic, organized campaign of social conditioning that promotes a poisonously distorted portrayal of life and history, through television and Hollywood movies, in newspapers and magazines, and in school and college classrooms, all bolstered with reassuring but toxic platitudes by compliant politicians. This well-organized campaign has succeeded in persuading most White Americans — including millions of MAGA-Trump supporters — that race does not or should not matter.

In his inaugural address of January, Donald Trump promised, “America will soon be greater, stronger, and far more exceptional than ever before.” His administration, he said, will “bring back hope, prosperity, safety, and peace for citizens of every race, religion, color and creed.” He promised not only that “we will bring prices down,” but that “the American Dream will soon be back and thriving like never before.” If Trump’s vision of the future is valid, then we — that is, all those who understand that race is not merely a social construct — have been wrong.

It’s possible to ignore reality — but it is not possible to ignore the consequences of ignoring reality. What that means is that the real-life consequences of what the U.S. has become — racially, culturally and socially — impose unequivocal limits on the actual, lasting achievements of a Trump government. Within ten years, and most likely before the end of this second Trump administration, it will be obvious, even to most of his supporters, that the MAGA vision of a “Golden Age” for America is delusional.

In coming years, demographic reality will dispel what’s left of the naïve hopes of a Trumpian restoration, and the foolish view that the realities of biology, history, and life can be ignored. The consequences of this process will also inevitably force a shift in attitudes by White Americans about themselves and their country, especially among younger men and women who have no memory of a time when the U.S. was still an overwhelmingly White nation.

As White Americans become an ever smaller part of the U.S. population, our people will be increasingly forced to acknowledge their declining influence and status, and will be compelled to face the consequences of living as a dwindling minority in the country that was once theirs. Only then will large numbers of White Americans begin to organize in earnest to battle for the rights and interests of our people.

A great change in attitudes among White Americans is coming. As history shows, such a change can happen quickly when the new outlook is in line with sensibilities that already exist, but which have been dormant and unexpressed. Where conditions like those in today’s America existed in the past, similar shifts have taken place quickly.

The history of our own country provides an instructive example. When prominent Americans from the 13 colonies met together in late 1774 as the “Continental Congress,” they still regarded themselves as loyal to Britain and the English king. Their identity was still first and foremost that of British subjects. At that time, George Washington — a delegate at that assembly — was “well satisfied’ that independence from Britain was not “desired by any thinking man in all North America.” As late as July 1775, that is, even after the bloody clashes between colonial militiamen and British soldiers in Massachusetts at Lexington and Concord, as well as at Bunker Hill near Boston, the Continental Congress denied “any designs of separation from Great Britian and establishing independent states.”

But attitudes about identity were changing. By the summer of 1776, a view that just a year earlier had been considered unthinkable was now acceptable, at least to a determined minority of White Americans. In July 1776, the Continental Congress delegates ratified and signed the Declaration of Independence, and thereby proclaimed a new identity for the White people of the former 13 colonies. It was only after five years of suffering and privation in a bloody struggle that often seemed hopeless, and in which support from a foreign country proved decisive, that British military power was broken, thereby securing the future of the new republic.

More importantly, all those who signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776, or who debated and signed the U.S. Constitution of 1787, unanimously regarded the new country as a White people’s republic. This new identity took hold quickly because it fit well with changed conditions, and because it expressed a latent but suppressed sensibility.

In spite of decades of egalitarian propaganda and social conditioning, most White Americans today still have an instinctive sense of “Whiteness.” On a certain level, most White Americans already realize, however unclearly, that there is no secure and hopeful future for themselves and their children and grand-children in a non-White, Third-World society. That dim awareness is manifest in how we live and act. For decades, White Americans have shown in their behavior that they prefer to live among, and associate with, people who are like themselves. Even those who claim to love “diversity” move away from neighborhoods that become too non-White.

All the same, most White Americans today are still loyal to the U.S.A., and hope that somehow this increasingly diverse and divided entity can still be held together. For most of our people, a future without the U.S.A. is simply unimaginable. That’s understandable, of course. After all, for most of the nearly 250 years that the U.S. has existed, this country’s saga has been a historically unparalleled one of prosperity, innovation, expansion, hegemony, and success.

For reasons already mentioned, only a minority of White Americans today are more concerned about the future of our people than they are about the future of the United States. Because most White Americans today more or less accept that forthrightly affirming our heritage and identity is somehow shameful or embarrassing, they are not yet ready to support candidates who openly defend White interests. As a result, not a single openly, unapologetically pro-White public figure holds elected office right now — at least on the federal level — anywhere in the country.

When we give serious consideration to just what can or should be done in political life, obviously we must take into consideration the actual feelings and attitudes of White voters. The confusion of most White Americans about what it even means to be “American,” together with their ambivalent feelings about race and identity, impose constraints on just what is possible, and not possible, for pro-White candidates. For the foreseeable future, pro-White candidates must be careful about how they express themselves, making sure not to be so explicit that they alarm voters who are afraid of “racism,” but not so timid that they betray our communitarian interests. All the same, the election record of the Trump-MAGA movement shows that millions of White Americans will vote for candidates who openly reject anti-White egalitarian policies, and thereby defend, at least implicitly, White community interests.

As the demographic trends of the past half-century continue, and as ever more White Americans better understand the consequences of those trends, they will be steadily more willing to support candidates who appeal for votes with a White version of “identity politics.” Ever more White voters will be motivated to support candidates who not only highlight and call out the deceit and hypocrisy of the politicians, educators, media masters, and business leaders promoting DEI, “affirmative action” and similar policies, but who also explain just how such policies, and the outlook behind them, harm the interests and future of White Americans.

The outreach of pro-White candidates should be cogent and reasonable, and appeal to a sense of justice and fair play. Such candidates will be all the more effective when they appeal to voters not merely with negative messaging about their opponents, but when they also present positive imagery of our own people, and messaging that inspires hope for a better future for our children. Successful pro-White candidates and activists must learn to be flexible and adaptive in tactics, while always firm and steadfast in principle. That’s not easy to do. It requires patience, self-control, and discernment — virtues that normally come only with experience and age.

In this time of accelerating change and looming challenge, our most pressing task must be to awaken the suppressed but slumbering self-awareness, confidence, and latent strength of our people. Our hopes and efforts must be directed, first and foremost, not to propping up and trying to save the multi-cultural, multi-racial U.S.A. Instead, our focus should be on the well-being and future of our people. In this struggle there will be no easy, “quick fix” victory. In fact, the battle will become more intense after Trump is gone, and the MAGA movement is history.

Happily, there are already encouraging reasons for hope and confidence.

On the intellectual front, we are already prevailing, even if that’s not yet widely understood or acknowledged. Our most formidable adversaries in the battle for ideas are not neo-Marxists or dreamy utopians, but rather the neo-conservative and neo-liberal apologists for the prevailing democratic-capitalist order. Although they defend a System that is still powerful and entrenched, they are very much on the defensive because that order is ever more obviously failing.

These defenders of what they call “democracy” want to suppress and ban popular political parties that they say are not “really” democratic. These champions of “free speech” and “tolerance” ban books, websites, and podcasts that they regard as offensive or hateful. They denounce ethno-nationalism in Hungary and Poland, but defend it in Israel. Their slogans, arguments and ideas are lackluster and uninteresting. No wonder they are increasingly regarded — especially by younger men and women — as ineffectual hypocrites.

In this struggle, we can also take heart from the important work that’s being done to lay a foundation for ultimate victory. Especially encouraging is the rise in recent years of an ever-growing number of capable, smart, and articulate younger White activists, publicists, writers, and organizers. With each passing year, these younger men and women — in our country and overseas — are turning out ever more — and ever better-quality videos — podcasts, websites, essays and books.

In this great, existential struggle of our age, our guiding spirit must not be loathing or hatred of others, but an abiding loyalty, love and devotion for the heritage and future of our own people, sustained by our vision of a secure, hopeful and durable future for our children and for generations of our people not yet born.

Mark Weber, Director of the Institute for Historical Review, is a historian, lecturer, and current affairs analyst. Mr. Weber was educated in both the United States and Europe and holds a master’s degree in modern European history.

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 Mark Weber https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png Mark Weber2025-06-26 07:39:252025-07-04 07:00:11Our People or ‘America’?: Looking Beyond Trump

Jewish Insider: After Mamdani victory, Jewish Democrats alarmed by party’s tolerance of antisemitism and anti-Israel extremism 

June 25, 2025/3 Comments/in General/by Kevin MacDonald

Jews may well defect to the GOP if this keeps up.

After Mamdani victory, Jewish Democrats alarmed by party’s tolerance of antisemitism and anti-Israel extremism 

New York City Democrats knew Zohran Mamdani refused to condemn ‘globalize the intifada’ rhetoric. They voted for him anyway.

(Photo by Michael M. Santiago/Getty Images)

NEW YORK, NEW YORK – JUNE 24: (L-R) State Assemblyman Zohran Mamdani, with his mother, Mira Nair, left, his wife, Rama Duwaji, and his father, Mahmood Mamdani celebrate on stage during an election night gathering at The Greats of Craft LIC on June 24, 2025 in the Long Island City, Queens. Mamdani was announced as the winner of the Democratic nomination for mayor in a crowded field in the City’s mayoral primary to choose a successor to Mayor Eric Adams, who is running for re-election on an independent ticket.

By Gabby Deutch
 June 25, 2025
When Joe Biden announced his presidential campaign in 2019, he stated explicitly, in a slickly edited campaign video, that one of the issues motivating him to reenter politics was fighting antisemitism and hate. He specifically mentioned the violent Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Va., in 2017 and the white nationalist protesters who were “chanting the same antisemitic bile heard across Europe in the ‘30s.”
One of Biden’s former high-level aides pointed out to Jewish Insider how different that rhetoric was from the position staked out by Zohran Mamdani, the upstart New York assemblyman who won a surprise victory in the New York City mayoral Democratic primary on Tuesday.

In the closing days of the campaign, Mamdani, who began his activism journey as a Students for Justice in Palestine leader at Bowdoin College, defended the term “globalize the intifada” as an expression of Palestinian rights. Mamdani’s defense of the phrase was strongly criticized by Jewish groups across the ideological spectrum, who view the phrase as a call to violence. While Mamdani has pledged to keep Jewish New Yorkers safe, he has not acknowledged their concerns about his invocation of a phrase tied to a violent, yearslong Palestinian uprising.

“Biden was elected running a campaign in 2020 premised on combating antisemitism. That was the animating feature that got him into the race. So the politics of this have really moved,” said the former White House official. “This is all about language and people using their microphones, and the fact that someone could feel empowered to double down on these ideas and win a mayoral race in New York City, that doesn’t happen by accident. It takes years of moving the goalposts on this language, on what it means to be antisemitic in America in 2025.”

This Biden administration staffer, who requested anonymity for fear of professional backlash, is one of many Jewish Democrats questioning where their party is heading after a dynamic young socialist with radical anti-Israel politics is on track to become mayor of the largest city in America, which has the largest Jewish population outside of Israel. Coupled with Democrats’ reluctance to offer support for President Donald Trump’s targeted strikes on Iranian nuclear sites, which drew support from major Jewish groups, Mamdani’s ascension has some pro-Israel Democrats concerned about the future of their party.

Put more bluntly by another senior Biden administration official: “I feel like a person without a party,” they told Jewish Insider.

Those two voices, who served at high levels of the Biden White House, are part of a small cadre of disillusioned former Biden staffers who want to see a more vocally pro-Israel tack from the Democratic Party’s current leaders, although they aren’t yet willing to say so publicly with their names attached. But their frustration represents a simmering undercurrent of concern among Jewish Democrats that has started to spill into the open after Mamdani’s victory.

Lawrence Summers, an economist who served as treasury secretary under President Bill Clinton and director of the National Economic Council under President Barack Obama, said in a post on X that he is “profoundly alarmed” about the future of the Democratic Party and the country “by yesterday’s NYC anointment of a candidate who failed to disavow a ‘globalize the intifada’ slogan and advocated Trotskyite economic policies.”

Some prominent Jewish Democrats acknowledged Mamdani’s shortcomings but tempered that concern by noting that voters were likely drawn in by his economic messaging, not his anti-Israel stance, and by the presence of a scandal-plagued rival in Andrew Cuomo, who ran a lackluster campaign.

“I think it is very disheartening that he was not able to say the phrase ‘globalize the intifada’ feels very threatening to Jews. I find that very distressing, but I don’t think that that’s the issue that the majority of New Yorkers were voting on,” said former Rep. Kathy Manning (D-NC), the board chair of Democratic Majority for Israel. “I don’t see it as a referendum on, people don’t care about antisemitism.”

Halie Soifer, CEO of the Jewish Democratic Council of America, expressed concern that New York Democrats elected a candidate “whose views on Israel deeply concern many American Jews.” But, she argued, “Democratic leadership and the vast majority of our elected officials stand with Jewish Americans on the range of issues of importance to Jewish voters.”

Mamdani’s election came days after a watershed foreign policy moment, in which Trump ordered American strikes on several Iranian nuclear sites. Democrats, even many moderates, responded by criticizing Trump for his unilateral action without consulting Congress, with many — including House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY) — failing to even acknowledge the threat Iran posed to Israel and the U.S.

“I think overwhelmingly, Democrats have not done a good job, and the proof is in the pudding, that even staunch Democrats who would never consider supporting Donald Trump or ever vote for a Republican are just really pained by what feels like a refusal to even acknowledge the seriousness of the threat of the Iranian nuclear program,” said Amanda Berman, CEO of Zioness, a progressive pro-Israel organization. Manning said she “would have loved to see not just my [former] colleagues but newscasters acknowledge that Iran is a bad actor.”

Wary Jewish Democrats are keeping a watchful eye on how party leaders handle Israel- and antisemitism-related issues.

“While I believe the majority of Democrats are pro-Israel economic moderates, we will see if our party leadership capitulates to the party’s most radical anti-Israel wing in the city with the most Jews in the world,” Esther Panitch, a Democratic state representative in Georgia and the only Jewish politician in the Georgia Statehouse, told JI on Wednesday. “I’m not optimistic at this moment, given that they have welcomed non-Democrats DSA [Democratic Socialists of America] and WFP [Working Families Party] into the tent.”

Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer and Jeffries, both of whom live in New York City, each congratulated Mamdani with social media posts on Wednesday, although they did not outright endorse him.

Sara Forman, the executive director of New York Solidarity Network, which promotes pro-Israel candidates in local races in New York, called Mamdani’s election “a seismic change” for Democratic politics in New York.  Far-left activists, she said, are now firmly inside of the party apparatus in the city, and she pledged to stick around and work to make sure the party is not represented by those activists.

“I am not advocating Jews leaving the Democratic Party,” Forman told JI. “One of the things that I’m going to work on, and I’ve been working on, is getting people to join me in the chorus and to not sit back and watch the car accident happening in front of their eyes, but instead, speak up. Speak out. Don’t surrender.”

According to Bradley Tusk, a venture capitalist and longtime Democratic operative who served as former New York City Mayor Michael Bloomberg’s 2009 campaign director, the challenge for Democrats is how to overcome the most ideological voters who turn out to vote in primaries.

“It wasn’t that he was this candidate who had all these interesting, exciting affordability ideas, but also happened to be anti-Israel. The anti-Israel was a big part of what allowed him to succeed,” Tusk told JI. “I think structurally, we have put ourselves in a bind where, when the Democratic Party is only decided by small ideological actors who vote in primaries, and that group tends to lean much more into anti-Israel, antisemitism, the Democratic Party is pretty stuck.”

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 Kevin MacDonald https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png Kevin MacDonald2025-06-25 16:34:372025-06-25 16:34:37Jewish Insider: After Mamdani victory, Jewish Democrats alarmed by party’s tolerance of antisemitism and anti-Israel extremism 

Bannon & Posobiec: Reports of little damage are deep state deception

June 25, 2025/8 Comments/in General/by Kevin MacDonald

Steve Bannon and Jack Posobiec cast doubt on the much publicized report that Trump’s bombing of Iran’s Fordow nuclear facility did little damage. They note that the person who leaked it was a low-level operative in the DOD and that the media ran with it because they hate Trump. They also go after Fox News and “Tel Aviv Levin” shrieking for more war—a natural conclusion if you believe that Iran did not suffer much of a setback as a result of the bombing.

Episode 4584: Was Iran’s Nuclear Program Was A Misdirection Play

 

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 Kevin MacDonald https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png Kevin MacDonald2025-06-25 16:05:462025-06-25 16:05:46Bannon & Posobiec: Reports of little damage are deep state deception

Steve Bannon Tears Into ‘Tel Aviv Levin’ After Fox Host Calls Him a ‘POS’: ‘Spokesmodel For a Foreign Nation’

June 25, 2025/3 Comments/in General/by Kevin MacDonald

Remember, saying any Jew has dual loyalty or more loyalty to Israel than to the United States is anti-Semitism: “Accusing Jewish citizens of being more loyal to Israel, or to the alleged priorities of Jews worldwide, than to the interests of their own nations.” I should think that calling Levin a spokesman for Israel would qualify. But Levin’s case is so obvious that I doubt the ADL will go after Bannon. Maybe they’ll tell Levin to be bit more subtle  in his all out promotion of Israel.

Mediaite: Steve Bannon Tears Into ‘Tel Aviv Levin’ After Fox Host Calls Him a ‘POS’: ‘Spokesmodel For a Foreign Nation’

1408 comments

Former White House chief strategist Steve Bannon tore into “Tel Aviv” Mark Levin on Tuesday after the Fox News host called Bannon “a contemptible POS.”

“Boy, Tel Aviv Levin. Tel Avin Levin is very – he’s big mad. He’s big mad,” said Bannon on his Real America’s Voice show War Room. “Big mad because he didn’t as a spokesperson — as a spokesmodel for a foreign nation, they didn’t get what they want.”

BANNON: President Trump, I hope you understand the great unmasking is here. You’re sitting there trying to negotiate a deal. And look what that little jackal

@LindseyGrahamSC

is doing. And

@marklevinshow

calling you out on Twitter. Because they knew you were working on getting the guns laid down. These hyenas. They’re jackals. They feed off death and destruction. What Levin and Fox did in Ukraine, cheerleading for war. And where is Ukraine now? A million people dead and wounded. Uh-huh. Mearsheimer is right. They’ll keep pushing until the last Ukrainian.

He questioned, “Now, why are like Tel Aviv Levin and all of these guys, why are they so apoplectic? Because we defeated them,” before adding, “They’re all a joke and of course at Fox, they’re a mouthpiece and a propaganda arm for a foreign government, and you have to weigh and measure this.”

Bannon went on to criticize Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for defying President Donald Trump and attacking Iran after the ceasefire was announced, remarking, “You saw why Bibi can’t be trusted, Netanyahu can’t be trusted.”

“They never call out Netanyahu, who got Israel into this,” Bannon said about Levin and other die-hard supporters of Netanyahu like Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC), before calling Netanyahu “a bald-faced liar.”

He continued:

He [Trump] tells you on the phone, “I want this thing stood down,” and he gets up and he sees that you lied to him and in fact you went even further of what he told you not to do. Now, that’s not being an ally. Of course, you’re not an ally, you’re a protectorate, and protectorates are not supposed to act like that.

“The Netanyahu government is out of control,” Bannon warned. “What happened last night, and I have preached this from the beginning, they’re not trustworthy. The Netanyahu crowd is not trustworthy. They’re not worthy of our trust. They’re not worthy of our trust and last night showed it in living color.”

Last week, Bannon tore into Netanyahu for trying to push the United States further into a conflict with Iran.

“Who in the hell are you to lecture the American people? Who are you to lecture the American people?” asked Bannon on his show. “The American people are not going to tolerate it. Not going to put up with it. Who are you to jam us into this situation which you knew you couldn’t finish the job, or if you can, go finish it!”

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 Kevin MacDonald https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png Kevin MacDonald2025-06-25 07:24:292025-06-25 10:38:09Steve Bannon Tears Into ‘Tel Aviv Levin’ After Fox Host Calls Him a ‘POS’: ‘Spokesmodel For a Foreign Nation’

Excerpt from K. M. Breakey’s novel “Britain on the Brink”

June 25, 2025/in Featured Articles, White Racial Consciousness and Advocacy/by K M Breakey
 These are the first 6 chapters from K.M. Breakey’s 8th novel, Britain on the Brink, available as a paperback or on Kindle. The blurb on Amazon:

Jack Campbell’s life is perfectly splendid. Lovely wife. Sweet children. Lucrative career in London’s hallowed financial sector. However, Jack can’t help but notice – England is suddenly no longer English. His best mate Ozzie’s been harping on the issue for years, and lately it’s impossible to ignore.

Was this outcome accidental? Or malicious betrayal? It’s starting to feel a lot like the latter, and Jack fears a dark and dystopian future for his kids. But what can he do? What can anyone do?

Abruptly, a little bit of magic appears in Jack’s life when he’s mysteriously transported back in time for a grand adventure in 1960s England. For a few glorious moments, Jack is home again. With his people. His kith and kin. Precious England as she once was. When the strange phenomenon happens again, amidst his utter astonishment, Jack sees an opportunity to change the course of British history.

Before long, he’s keeping company with historical figures like Enoch Powell, and operating in alternate worlds where things turn out drastically different. But can Jack change the actual world? And does he really want to when changing the past is fraught with peril and paradox?

In Britain on the Brink, a new hero emerges in the fight to save the West. And by Jove, he’s ready to do battle.

1. White Male “Privilege”

London, England

May 22, 2025

Jack Campbell took a seat in the posh penthouse boardroom. On the docket: Corporate Excellence Through Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion. Good Lord. Jack despised the nonsense and would tell you as much in private.

But he didn’t say so publicly. No one did. Not in UniBank’s hallowed halls. Because DEI demanded respect and wielded power. Some UK institutions were pushing back, following the Trump/Musk juggernaut in America. Not UniBank. They remained all in. Diversity is at the heart of everything we do.

Jack played along, even put pronouns in his signature. He learned early in his career – corporate life involves indignities, even occasional soulselling. This was merely another hoop to jump through.

He was a Senior Executive at UniBank, one of the UK’s largest financial institutions, a behemoth with tentacles in over a hundred countries. He joined in 2003 and worked his way up the ladder. He had a sharp mind, a steady hand, and his baritone carried a natural authority. He was the archetype white male executive – tall, handsome, charming. Ruthlessly efficient.

His workday was a steady stream of strategy sessions, high-stakes calls, and complex (sometimes shady) M&A deals in far-flung locations with regulatory grey areas. This had been Jack’s world for twentyplus years. It was rough and tumble – full of ego, conflict, and testosterone.

He mostly stayed above the fray, navigating the politics with finesse and building alliances to consolidate power and influence. Despite layers of bureaucracy, Jack was known as a man who got things done, no fuss.

He knew how to play the game, but the game was changing. Correction: the game had changed. This insidious Wokeism Beast had slithered and squirmed into the bank’s corporate corridors – as if red tape and regulation wasn’t bad enough.

It seemed harmless at first, but like an infection, it morphed and mutated and grew to the point that it seemed it may eventually destroy its host. Jack had seen it destroy a few careers and put a glass ceiling on others. Inevitably, its victims were that once alpha species known as the white male. They deserved it, so said the doctrine.

Jack studied the instructor. Chantelle Williams was a black female. No surprise, they almost always were. The fake eyelashes, fake nails, and blonde weave combined to give her a clownish countenance. Ghoulish even. She was also morbidly obese, but for her it was not a bother. Her self-esteem was off the charts.

The bank was paying her great gobs of money to shit on everything in sight, especially white people. We’re lucky to have her, said the Director of HR, another black female. Chantelle had the jargon down pat – allyship, microaggressions, intersectionality. Words that didn’t exist a few years prior.

When the Orwellian torture session mercifully ended, Jack said a prayer of thanks and bolted for the door. Not only was it 5:00 p.m. it was Friday. And it was his birthday. Fun times awaited.

On the tube home, he observed the same sign he saw every day: Hey Straight White Man, Pass the Power. He shook his head. The insolence. The audacity. All taxpayerfunded, of course.

He shook it off. Nothing was going to dampen his spirits.

 

2. Another Lap Around the Sun

Lily and the kids greeted Jack at the door. “Happy Birthday, Daddy!” Finn and Lucy screamed in unison.

“Thanks, kiddos,” he swooped down for a hug and a kiss before turning attention to his wife. “Hello, beautiful. I survived another week.”

“You survived another year,” said Lily. “Happy forty-third, darling.”

“Bloody heck Nora, I’m forty-three, am I?”

Lily nodded with a grin. “Fifty’s right around the corner.”

“I need a drink on the double.”

“Go on, Ozzie’s already here.”

Jack strolled with purpose into the living room.

“Welcome home, sir.” Ozzie bowed solemnly.

“Stand up straight you silly man.”

“Sorry, me Dad taught me to respect me elders.”

“I’m younger than you, mate.”

“Will you get the old folks’ discount at the pub now?”

Jack mixed a generous gin and tonic. “Where is everyone? I’m not stuck with you all night, am I?”

“Hey, it’s your party.”

Jack grinned at his best pal. “You were right about the struggle session.”

“Oh yeah, not letting up an inch?”

Jack shook his head. “Pedal to the metal.”

“Told ya.”

“That kiss-ass Morgan lapped it up. What a broken man he is.”

“Sorta like Steady Eddie?”

“It’s an issue of class, not race,” Jack mimicked their liberal friend Edward. “Tell ya what, I may be VP, but I’m low man on the totem pole at these bloody events.”

“You’re not allowed to say totem pole.”

Jack feigned shock and horror. “This bloody wokeness thing, whatever it is, it’s taken over at the bank.”

“Be honest, mate. It’s taken over the bloody country. The commies are in charge now.”

“I should’ve explained that to the instructor,” said Jack.

Ozzie scoffed. “She wouldn’t appreciate the nuance. Too stupid, I guarantee it.”

Just then, young Finn dashed through the room – a blur of youthful energy. “Slow down, champ,” Jack scolded with a grin. My God, what will England be like when Finn comes of age? A scary thought, and not the first time it crossed Jack’s mind.

Edward Squire and his wife entered, pulling Jack from the rueful reverie. “Steady Eddie,” he and Ozzie called out in unison. The nickname, coined years ago, had stuck like glue. Eddie was calm, cool, collected. Nothing fazed him. Not even the rape and pillage of his native land. He was a raging lefty, and a target of ridicule for Ozzie.

Another couple followed, then another. The room swelled with hearty greetings and banter among familiar chums. Cocktails were proffered and before long conversation turned to football, as it often does at English gatherings.

“Don’t start. Our side always comes round.” Ozzie was a United supporter, and his Red Devils were off to a terrible start. “We’ve more trophies than your lot could dream of.”

“You’re living in the past, Ozzie.”

“Ha, I would if I could.”

“Don’t get him started,” said Eddie.

“We’ll be on top again soon, don’t you worry.”

“You’ve been saying that for years. Christ, how many managers you had since Fergie?”

“We’ve got history, mate. What’ve you got with bloody Arsenal? Sweet sod all.” Ozzie and Jack bellowed laughter.

“Keep laughing, lads,” said Eddie. “We’re playing beautiful football. Odegaard’s class. And Saka’s better than half your team combined.”

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Jack chimed in. “You’re good ’til Christmas, then you lot fold like a cheap tent.”

“We’re runner-up the last two years.”

“Christ sakes, he’s proud o’ second place.”

Jack lapped up the banter. Friendly fire now but with Cup Matches it could come to blows. Literally. Jack was a Liverpool man, like his Daddy, and his Daddy’s Daddy.

“And for what it’s worth,” Ozzie added, “I lost interest years ago. Bunch of feckin’ foreigners wearing English kits and a bunch of cucks watching ’em, more concerned with their team winning than saving their dying country.”

“You always say that when your team’s in the dumpster.”

Both statements were true – Ozzie was as politically right as they come, and one of very few ethnic British males unafraid to speak his mind. To get a sense of Ozzie, picture Conor McGregor, but bigger, bolder, and English. For Ozzie, the Prem was another tool to distract Brits from their dispossession.

“Stop watching, lads. Stop supporting the bullshit.”

“Ah, come World Cup time, you’ll be there with the lot of us.”

Scoff. “I see we hired a German to manage our squad of Africans.”

“We’ll have black players and white players,” said Eddie. “As it should be.”

Bigger scoff.

“Don’t forget,” said Eddie, “it was Kane who missed the penalty against France.”

That stung. When England crashed out of the last World Cup, Oswald (Ozzie) Fletcher was devastated, despite what he might otherwise say. He was inconsolable. All the lads were.

“Wouldn’t it be something if we won,” said Jack wistfully. “What a day that would be.”

“It could happen,” said Eddie.

“It should happen,” said Jack. “We invented the bloody game.”

“Back in ’66, my Dad got finals tickets for ten bloody shillings,” Jack added. “What’s that now, eight quid?”

“Yeah, and back then the competition actually meant something,” said Ozzie. “The Dutch team was Dutch. The French French. Believe it or not, we fielded a roster full o’ English lads.”

“Imagine,” said Jack grinning.

“We even had the remnants of our Empire. But the bleedin’ traitors were selling us out fast.”

“To this day,” Jack continued, “my Dad says it was the greatest day of his life. Better than his wedding, he says. Even Mum knows it.” Jack had heard the story so many times, it was like he’d been there himself, back in 1966, a full thirteen years before he was born.

The night went according to script. Plenty of good-natured banter with a dose of sarcasm and vitriol, for good measure. Always was with Ozzie in the room. Unfortunately, Jack’s parents didn’t make the two-hour trek down from Newfordshire. They weren’t getting any younger and, truth be told, England’s streets weren’t getting any safer. There was also London traffic. Always a bitch.

The kids took centre stage frequently. “For my birthday, I want a football cake,” Finn declared. “And pizza.”

“Better than Paul’s lad,” Ozzie whispered discreetly. “That kid probably wants a frilly skirt.” The twelve-year-old in question had recently announced he wanted to be a girl. The mother was delighted. The father, not so much. “If the alphabet people get their hooks in your kid,” Ozzie proclaimed, “not much you can do.”

The birthday cake made its appearance, and the obligatory Happy Birthday was sung, followed smartly by a rousing rendition of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow.

“Blow out the candles, honey,” Lily said. “Don’t forget to make a wish.”

Jack didn’t hesitate. I wish I could go to the World Cup Final in 1966. Then, remembering the godawful DEI Seminar, he went a step further. I wish I could go back to the England of old. The real England.

Zing.

A surge of energy ran through him like a jolt of electricity. For a few precious moments, a vision appeared. A crystal-clear image of Wembley Stadium. Old Wembley. The very stadium that hosted the 1966 World Cup Final.

“What’d you wish for?” Ozzie demanded. “You didn’t waste it on those Liverpool foreigners, I hope.”

Jack came back to reality and made a zip-the-lips gesture.

Cake was served and the sugar blast sent the kids into overdrive. They were bouncing off the walls, and with alcohol on board so were some of the adults. By the time it was over, Jack was done and dusted. He couldn’t wait to lay his head down. He’d probably be asleep before it hit the pillow.

“That was some proper good fun,” said Lily.

“It certainly was,” Jack agreed. “I’m rightly knackered now though. Didn’t even have that much to drink.”

“You’re getting old, dear.”

“Hey.”

She grinned. “You go in and rest, I’ll do the washing up and check on the kids.”

“Aw, thanks honey.”

Her grin morphed into a leer. “Don’t fall asleep, though, loverboy. I’ll be in later with a special present.” She was a vixen, Lily was.

Jack grinned back in anticipation.

 

3. The Time Tunnel

In the bedroom, Jack was overcome with a sense of wellbeing and gratitude. He was a blessed man, his troubles trivial. But this particular spirit of goodwill was above and beyond the norm.

Birthday-related, perhaps? Or something to do with that vision of Wembley? What was that by the way? Some weird premonition?

Zing.

It happened again.

Another flash of Old Wembley. More than a flash. A vision. Distinct and real, no detail spared. This one was more powerful. More prolonged. More persistent. He gazed into Lily’s vanity mirror and a surreal outline of his visage stared back, the likeness blurred, an aura of light surrounding it.

Jesus.

Quite suddenly, a strange sensation engulfed him – mind, body, and spirit. He felt weightless as the image in the mirror blurred further, yet he still perceived it with absolute clarity. In fact, he perceived everything with perfect clarity.

Clarity of thought.

Heightened consciousness.

A deep and fearless curiosity to see what this was all about.

It was no medical event. Not a heart attack. Jack felt threatened not in the least. On the contrary, he felt an overwhelming urge to succumb entirely to…whatever was happening.

Bright light filled his field of vision. His body relaxed, his breathing and heartbeat slowed. He surrendered…and was soon floating through…was it space? Time? Yes, and yes. There could be no doubt. He was travelling through the cosmos, backward in time, observing a parade of visions pass by.

Life events. Momentous events. The COVID pandemic. The Manchester bombing. Brexit. The Fall of the Berlin Wall, a stalwart Ronald Reagan demanding, Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall! Chernobyl. The John Lennon assassination. The election of Margaret Thatcher. Jack witnessed and perceived them all and many more.

At the same time, his personal life was laid bare: his wedding day, the birth of his children, the death of his beloved Grandad. It was as if he was on a three-dimensional – scratch that, multi-dimensional – moving walkway. Actually, more like a tunnel. A Time Tunnel.

He was perceptive to the events around him. He could see, hear, even smell everything as he observed time pass in elaborate waves of sensory profusion. He felt the wind in his hair, the smells of childhood, the emotion of each moment. But Jack wasn’t overwhelmed. On the contrary, he comprehended with effortless clarity.

Otherworldly clarity.

Then he saw his destination. How did he know? Was it instinct? Or did it just happen? He wasn’t sure. But it made sense, notwithstanding. July 30, 1966. Saturday. Wembley Stadium.

He panned the swarming crowds and gradually zoomed until he was transported inside. He saw the pitch, the players, the fancy electronic scoreboard. The infamous thirty-nine steps leading to the Royal Box where players collected trophies.

This was old Wembley.

The Time Tunnel slowly faded as visions crystallized into reality and Jack’s consciousness settled into this time and place.

Boom.

He was there. In the flesh.

 

4. 1966 World Cup

Jack had arrived. In 1966. In his seat. Section 38. Wembley Stadium. The place Pelé once called the Cathedral of Football.

He glanced about, wide-eyed, as the crowd buzzed. He spotted West German flags, but Union Jacks were dominant. The skies were grey and bore the threat of rain. But rain would not come. Jack knew this well because his Dad had told him.

His Dad had told him everything and cor blimey, Jack was living it now. As if he’d been transported onto a movie set. But it wasn’t a movie set. It was real. Every detail.

How is this happening?

Jack pinched himself. Nothing happened. He pinched himself again. Still nothing. What the? If it’s not a dream and it’s not reality – what is it?

He surveyed himself. Same green shirt and plaid pants he’d had on at the birthday party. Thank God he’d been wearing sandals. For that matter, thank God he hadn’t changed into pyjamas. Is that how this thing worked? He checked his pockets. No wallet, but his trusty mobile had come along for the journey.

He took several deep breaths and got his bearings. He was a few rows up from the action and could clearly see the lush turf – perhaps a wee bit slick from earlier rain. And the players themselves, from both sides, warmed up on the pitch. He could see them clearly, right down to the expressions on their faces. His eyesight, sans glasses, was perfect. He had the eyesight of his younger self.

There was England’s most beloved footballer, Bobby Charlton. A legendary figure, ambassador extraordinaire for the sport. That’s how Jack knew him. On this day, Sir Bobby was twenty-eight years of age, but his mythical status was already fully formed. Eight years prior, he’d survived the Munich Air Disaster which claimed many of his teammates. He scarcely skipped a beat, going on to win the FA Cup, League Titles, the European Cup, and (spoiler alert) soon to be World Cup. Off the field, Mr. Charlton was humble, as the British are. But on the field, he was renowned for stamina, grit, and a ferocious strike, no matter left or right foot.

There was the twenty-eight-year-old version of Norbert “Nobby” Stiles, the hardnosed five-six defensive midfielder. The Iron Tackler, they called him ’cause he always went in hard. Some say too hard. And of course, the great Geoff Hurst – substitute for the injured Jimmy Greaves. Not a single fan knew it – save Jack Campbell – but Mr. Hurst was about to produce a performance for the ages.

Jack scanned the fans in his vicinity. Mostly commonfolk it appeared, living their best lives – buoyant, joyful, full of expectation. To say the English squad had the country behind them was understatement. Nay, this team carried the dreams of fifty million Britons. Today, team and nation were one and the same.

As Ozzie said, England was still a real country in 1966. Still ninety-nine percent ethnically English. Yes, this means ninety-nine percent white. Based on what Jack could see, Ozzie was bang on. Jack had yet to see a non-white face – in the crowd or on the pitch. That included the West Germans, so it did.

At that moment, the chap two seats over held out his hand. “Good day, sir. I’m Sheldon Cook.”

“Hello, sir.” They shook hands. “Jack Campbell.”

“I heard you were coming,” the man stated. “Peter cancelled last minute, and his brother made some calls. Seems you were the lucky recipient. How do you know Peter?”

Jack hadn’t considered who was supposed to be in this seat. But by some divine providence, it had become available to him.

“We go way back,” said Jack. “Haven’t seem him in a while, mind.”

Sheldon nodded smilingly. He was a family man, with two bright-eyed youngsters either side of him. Introductions were made and Jack was taken by the joy on their faces. Pristine, untainted happiness.

Sheldon was roundabout Jack’s age – the 2025 version of Jack, that is. Am I forty-three here? He wasn’t sure what the hell he was.

“Think we can take ’em today?” Sheldon asked.

“I’ve a good feeling,” said Jack.

“Me too, but me nerves are shot.”

“My Dad told me they’d win. He guaranteed it, and he’s usually right about these things.”

“I wish I had his confidence. Is he here?”

The question threw Jack for a loop. Good Lord, his Dad was here. Jack opted to lie. “Unfortunately, not. But he’ll be watching on the telly.” Jack was starting to relax. He made a grand show of asking the young lads about their own sporting exploits. They were near in age to young Finn.

“My own boy and girl play, too.”

“Your girl plays football?” The boys laughed in unison.

Jack shrugged toward the boy’s father. “She’s a tomboy.” Note to self. It’s a different era. Girls don’t play the Beautiful Game in 1966.

A vendor wandered into the vicinity and barked out his offerings. Meat pies, crisps, fizzy drinks, tea. Sheldon got the man’s attention and ordered the works for his kids, including a glossy Match Programme. He turned to Jack. “What do ya need, mate? My treat.”

Jack smiled sheepishly. He had no money. “Very kind of you, I’ll take a Coke. Thank you, Sheldon.” As the transaction unfolded, Jack came clean. “Appreciate it, mate. Truth is, I lost my wallet earlier.” He gestured vaguely: “Been a hectic day.”

“Sorry to hear, old sport.” In modern-day England, there’d be high suspicion toward a move like that. But here, trust and goodwill were in abundance. “Tell you what, I’ll get you a programme, too. You need one to enjoy the match.”

Sheldon waved off Jack’s protests. “We’re on the same team today, laddie. We’re all family.”

Jack skimmed the publication with interest. There were articles about key players, their respective sides, their respective countries. By modern standards, it was an amateurish production, but this only added to its charm. For the first time, it sank in – England’s opponent was West Germany. My God, this truly was a different world. A world where the Iron Curtain still divided Europe.

Jack studied the rosters and player bios – nothing but white faces on both sides. And just look at those English lads. Proper English lads, they were. Jack felt a surge of National Pride such as he’d never felt. Englishmen weren’t supposed to feel such a thing. We’re supposed to feel guilt and shame.

Sorry, not today.

Jack had seen a copy of the programme once before at a festival. It was a sought-after collectible, worth a fortune. This copy was obviously mint condition. Hot off the presses. Without thinking, Jack whipped out his iPhone to snap a few photos.

A split second later, it dawned – the space-age gadget wouldn’t jive with the time. Heck, these people barely had colour TV. For them, an iPhone was outright sorcery. In some parts of time and space, they’d burn him alive for witchcraft.

Too late. One of the bright-eyed youngsters, the older of the two sitting to Jack’s left, got an eyeful. “What is that? Wow, look Daddy.”

Jack quickly shut the phone off, but not before Sheldon got a glimpse. “Don’t know, me boy. What have you there, mate?”

Jack sheepishly attempted to cover the phone with his hands. “It’s just a, uh, a special kind of camera.”

“Looked like a miniature television to me,” said the kid.

Sheldon nodded. “Who are you, James Bond? You get that from Q, did you?” Both youngsters giggled.

Jack regrouped. “I…uh…I work for the government.” He said it with a serious tone, then grinned and pocketed the phone. “Not for Q. I’m not allowed to talk about this device. It’s a prototype.”

Sheldon looked at him quizzically. He wanted more, and the awkward moment lingered. However, blessedly it was three o’clock and the game was starting.

Another note to self: No photos! And no Googling players. He grinned. There’s no internet here, you silly goose. Probably no Wi-Fi either, he chuckled at the absurdity of explaining Wi-Fi to Sheldon.

 

5. Victory

The wait was finally over for the packed stadium. Jack knew from memory, 96,000 in attendance, ten percent of them German. Pre-game festivities were brief – national anthems and not much else – and the referee’s piercing opening whistle was bang on 3:00 p.m. local time.

Both teams looked smart in the classic 4-4-2 formation. England in their iconic kit – red jersey, white shorts, red socks. Nothing flashy. No gauche sponsor logos, just the classic embroidered Three Lions crest. The West Germans sported white jerseys, black shorts, white socks. Elegant simplicity.

London bookies made England the 1-2 favourite, but not a single English fan took anything for granted. The game found rhythm quickly. Less than a minute in, free kick Germany fifteen yards outside the England penalty. Moments later, Bobby Charlton with a wonderful touch. Then, a twenty-year-old Beckenbauer – Der Kaiser in the flesh – making superlative plays on the ball. He was a midfielder on the day, not yet the magnificent sweeper he’d become. But he was already special.

For the umpteenth time, Jack marvelled at what he was witnessing. This was straight from a science fiction movie. Going back in time?

How is this happening?

Yet it was happening. It was as real as the stars in the midnight sky, and Jack embraced it. Why not? This was a game for the ages and he might as well savour the moment.

The crowd didn’t have to wait long for a goal, but not from the side they wanted. At the twelve-minute mark, poor clearance by the English defender allowed Helmut Haller to put the ball past keeper Gordon Banks.

Yikes. Germany up 1-nil.

It momentarily took wind out of sails, but six minutes on Geoff Hurst tied the match with a powerful header, and English fans were redeemed. By halftime, the game remained all square at one.

The crowd was in fine spirits and Jack and Sheldon relived the tying goal, and a few other close calls. But the youngster to his left soon interrupted. “May I see your camera again, sir?”

Jack smiled at the young man, who was about a year older than Jack’s own lad. Showing off the iPhone was tempting. Oh, the fun he could have playing wizard to these folks. He resisted the urge. It felt…dangerous. Already, Jack was sensing the burden and responsibility of time travel.

“I wish I could, son. But I’m under NDA.” Neither the boys nor Sheldon knew what that meant but Jack didn’t dwell. “Whereabouts you live Sheldon?”

“Notting Hill. Born and raised.”

Jack frowned. “How’s the neighbourhood?”

“We love it. So vibrant. Full o’ culture, y’know?”

Jack’s frown deepened. He was aware of Notting Hill’s embrace – that wasn’t exactly the correct word – of Caribbean immigrants starting as far back as 1948 with the fated Windrush arrivals. In 1966, few Londoners felt threatened by the influx. After all, this was England. Their England.

Jack knew different. In fact, the inaugural Notting Hill Carnival was set to occur just a month hence. By 2025, the event would be known for violence, with bookies posting an over-under on the number of stabbings. Vast swaths of Notting Hill would eventually become inhospitable to white Britons – Jack knew well – like so many other areas.

The Great Replacement – ethnic cleansing Ozzie called it – would be rapid in Sheldon’s neck of the woods. Already it was in full force, and poor naive Sheldon was putting positive spin to it, God love him.

Jack was tempted to warn the man – get out now – but Sheldon was still talking. “…close to everything, Stamford Bridge for one. We’re Chelsea fans, you know. Blimey, it took us just fifteen minutes to get here today.”

“You drove?”

“Course we did, mate.”

Jack raised his eyebrows in appreciation. In modern-day London, traffic and parking made driving near impossible. On the day of a World Cup Final? Crikey, forget about it.

“Wha’bout yourself, Jack? Where do you live?”

“I’m in Twickenham.” Jack decided to be honest.

“Ah, you’re a rugby fan, then?” It was the home of English rugby.

“Ah sure, but it’s a distant second to this great game.”

“Beautiful spot. Pricey.” Sheldon rubbed thumb and forefingers together. “Government’s paying well these days, yeah?”

Jack shrugged noncommittally.

“I suppose if you’re coming up with space-age gadgets like the one in your pocket, it’s money well spent.”

Another shrug.

“Soon, we’ll have flying cars and men on the moon,” said one of the youngsters.

Jack smiled at the shiny optimism.

“And smart robots,” added the other. “My science teacher told me people in the future won’t even have to work. Not if they don’t want to.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Jack offered. It was obvious he was being cagey, but he didn’t know what else to do. He didn’t know the rules in this strange…circumstance. Erring on the side of caution seemed advisable.

Again, mercifully, the match started and all eyes turned to the pitch. “Here we go again,” Sheldon announced.

For thirty minutes, the two sides battled fiercely, trading chances including a glorious one by Bobby Charlton himself. To Jack’s mind, the English lads had the edge in play, perhaps buoyed by the crowd’s rousing rendition of The Saints Go Marching In, which had become England’s theme song this World Cup. They also belted out a menacingly loud and powerful Rule, Britannia, and it touched Jack’s soul like nothing before ever had.

My God, he felt the full force of English blood and soil. And then, heightening the moment to a state of pristine ecstasy, a magical moment unfolded. In the 78th minute, following sustained pressure, Martin Peters took a nifty pass from Alan Ball, and struck a clean winner past keeper Hans Tilkowski. The Wembley faithful went into a rabid frenzy.

With just twelve minutes left in regulation, it had to be the clincher. The Cup was England’s. It must be. And as the minutes ticked by, it became more and more obvious. England had this. The trophy was finally coming home.

However, tragedy struck in the 89th minute. After a goalmouth scramble, Wolfgang Weber put home the tying goal with a minute in regulation. West Germany had pulled off a miracle. The shock equalizer forced thirty minutes of extra time. The singing stopped and the smiles vanished. A hush came over the stadium, save ten thousand Germans who were predictably ecstatic.

The anguish in the faces of Sheldon and his boys was enough to break Jack’s heart. He wanted to console them, tell them it was all gonna work out fine. Again, he resisted the urge.

Why, he wondered. Fear? Caution? Uncertainty? Yes, that was it. Uncertainty. For all he knew in this strange parallel universe, West Germany wins. Was there a guarantee the game would play out according to the historical reality?

It had so far. Thus, chances are, it would continue to. “Chin up, lads. Extra time it is. We’ve got this.”

“We were this close, Jack.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve a good feeling.”

“Blimey, me heart can’t take much more o’ this.”

“We’ll be fine.” Jack offered a confident smile, and it seemed to cheer them. Their mood was lifted further by England’s play out of the gate, with Alan Ball, Bobby Charlton, and Geoff Hurst all leading aggressive attacks.

Sensation came in the 101st minute when Hurst took Allan Ball’s cross deep in the penalty and blasted a shot from close range. It slammed the underside of the bar and bounced straight down, appearing to hit the goal line, before being cleared by the German defender.

Confusion ensued. The Swiss referee signaled for a corner, but England protested. Shockingly, the Russian linesman took England’s side in adamant fashion. It was a good goal, he proclaimed. Despite passionate protests from the West Germans, the decision stood.

“It was in,” screamed Sheldon, and his boys echoed the sentiment. Like any proper Englishman, Jack had seen the replay a million times. He’d be first to admit, it was questionable. A portion of the ball certainly crossed the line, maybe most of it. But the whole ball? He wasn’t about to bring that up now, though.

No sir.

Because again, he was lost in the elation. The singing was back with greater fervour and the minutes ticked away. At the 120-minute mark, more theatrics. Close to the final whistle, the referee checking his watch, and Germany pressing for an equalizer, Hurst caught the German defence napping. He found space down the left flank and bore down on the German keeper. He struck a left-footed laser from inside the box and it found the back of the net.

My God.

It had to be the clincher, and it completed Hurst’s hat-trick, cementing him in football lore for eternity. But again, controversy as English supporters had stormed the pitch early. No one cared. Nor did history. Asterisk or otherwise, a win was a win. As with Maradona’s Hand of God, it only added to the lore.

And it was a win. A 4-2 final. English fans were intoxicated with joy and pride, Jack included. England was on top again, right where she belonged. Jack forgot he was in a different era.

He forgot about everything except the precise moment he was living.

 

6. Rule, Britannia

West German grumbling did nothing to dampen spirits of the rabid English fans. They were in a state of mass delirium, as was Jack.

England were World Champions. Finally. Glory restored where it belonged, to the country that gave football to the world. Forget Germany. Forget Latin America. Forget talk of the Southern Hemisphere growing dominant, producing not only the best teams, but the best players. Forget all of that.

England was king of the hill. Top of the heap. Like a phoenix from the ashes, National pride rose up in an unstoppable tsunami of ecstasy. When Bobby Moore collected the great trophy from Queen Elizabeth II, Prince Philip at her side, the Duke and Duchess of Kent looking on, Jack knew in his heart – this was bigger than football. It was spiritual. A religious experience.

No country could match England’s pomp and circumstance, and now, no country could match England on the pitch. He wasn’t the only one who felt that way. As fans poured out of Wembley, he picked up random snippets of conversation: “I can’t believe we’ve bloody done it.”…“I never doubted our lads, not for a second.”…“This is surely the first of many.”

Pride and happiness swelled in Jack’s chest, so powerful he felt he may explode. It wasn’t only the win, it was the atmosphere. The people. The English people. Smartly dressed all. No ballcaps, no trainers, no hoodies. Not a drug addict nor aggressive panhandler in sight.

And let it be said, not a burka to be seen, either. Not a hint of violence in the air, even as West Germans mingled among English. The Progressive beast hadn’t spoiled England. Not yet. Even here in the heart of London.

“I’m meeting me mates at the Lion’s Pub,” said Sheldon. “We’ve a table waiting. Fancy joining us?”

“I think I shall,” said Jack. The thought of a few pints was irresistible.

“We witnessed it together, mate. Brothers for life now.” The two embraced, and the young lads looked on approvingly.

The crowds in the street were thick and energetic, and Jack marvelled at the orderliness. The people were well–behaved and courteous. Even mild-mannered in this, their moment of great glory. And the city itself – English to the core. For once, the people matched the architecture.

Jack had heard of these days, when you could safely walk London’s streets day or night. When everyone spoke English, and practically everyone was White. The rumours were true. He suddenly realized, he hadn’t seen a person of colour the entire day. If he spoke the term – person of colour – odds are no one would know what he meant.

He was witnessing British people in their natural habitat. British people as they were meant to be in nature. The unabashed joy in Sheldon and his lads was a thing to behold. Unlike Jack, Sheldon didn’t fret for his children’s future.

“Are you quite alright, Jack?”

Jack exited his reverie with a grin. “Never better.”

“You were lost in space for a second there.”

“Just enjoying the moment.” Jack gestured toward three gorgeous lasses strutting past in miniskirts. “Can you blame me?”

“Not at all, mate.”

It was the start of the Swinging ’60s, and risqué garments were all the rage. A symbol of cultural change, perhaps not in the right direction, Jack reckoned. Despite the showy display, the women were decidedly more chaste than their 2025 counterparts. The skirts were certainly revealing, but the girls came across not as slutty, but as graceful and elegant.

“I’m taking it all in, Shel. I haven’t walked these streets in a good while.” He glanced around happily. “Almost feels like I’ve never walked them.”

It was true, the environment was familiar, yet vaguely foreign. Take the vehicles. A shiny TR4 here, a sleek Jaguar E-Type there, no doubt with the plush leather interior. Vauxhalls galore. Black Cabs galore. Even the odd Rolls Royce. Shocking how many of the cars were Britishmade back in the day.

Also, no bike lanes. No dreaded ULEZ cameras. No kebab shops or curry houses. Crikey, around here Curry was a surname. And again, it had to be acknowledged – no non-whites. Scratch that, almost none. By now, Jack had seen a few.

Nevertheless, this was London to the core. Pure. Untouched. Unspoiled. Jack was practically shaking with ancestral recognition. Like an electric charge through his nervous system. However, there was a parallel current of sadness. A mourning for what had been taken, almost as surely as if London had been razed to the ground.

Sheldon shot him another puzzled look. “You’re due for a pint, laddie.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“This way, follow me.”

Upon entry, Jack was hit with another dose of ancestral nostalgia. The pub was classic English, probably centuries old. Pubs were one aspect of British life that had resisted change, which is probably why the Brits loved them so much.

Yet here in 1966, Jack witnessed authenticity that didn’t exist in 2025. No TVs, no mobile phones, no craft beer, no loud music to dampen banter. Because that’s what pubs were for, right? Fellowship and pints. Nothing more, nothing less.

On this, perhaps the most glorious day in recent English history, the place was jammed. A modern-day Fire Marshal would’ve had a meltdown. And the smoke. It was thick in the air. Everyone smoked, it seemed, and ashtrays overflowed.

There was a masculine energy in the room. A working-class vibe. It was maledominated to be sure, but women weren’t banned, not at all. Discouraged maybe but not banned. The banter was hale and hearty.

 

“The lads were class today. Absolute legends, each of ’em.”

“No one can take this away from us.”

“The whole country’s celebrating tonight.”

 

The men were present, in the moment, and Jack met a fine sampling of Londoners. Bus drivers, longshoremen, postal workers. Professional Class, too. He even swapped shoptalk with a banker.

“Who you with?” The man asked.

Telling the truth was out of the question – UniBank wasn’t formed until the 1990s. “Barclays.” Jack went with a safe bet – the largest bank in England.

“Brilliant, mate. I’m in currency trading, myself. You know the drill – exchange rates, letters of credit, that sorta thing.” He smiled. “Me hand’s still sore from updatin’ ledgers.” He mimicked the motion. “Month end, y’know.”

That’s right, Jack realized. Forget computers, calculators weren’t even on the scene. It was an analog world and these poor saps did everything by hand.

“You know Jamie Cuthbert?” The man was asking. “He’s a good lad. Cheeky bastard, once ya know ’im.”

“The name rings a bell.”

“What sort of work you do there, Jack?”

What to tell this chap? The banking Jack undertook bore no resemblance to this man’s world. “Let’s not talk shop, mate.” He raised his glass. “Not today.”

“Right. Fair play.” The man raised his own glass.

Just then, the barmaid strolled past and some of the men flirted. “Angie, if I ever leave me wife, I’ll be comin’ for ya, luv.”

She was no shrinking violet: “Thanks for the warning, Paul.”

“Aye, she’s a cheeky lass, in’t she.” He pinched her bottom.

To another man, a younger and better-looking specimen, Angie flirted back with full vigour. But the spirit of the moment was never far. Glasses were repeatedly raised, and pints aplenty consumed. From time to time, the singing kicked in:

Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!

Britons never, never, never will be slaves.

And again:

Rule, Britannia! Britannia, rule the waves!

Britons never, never, never will be slaves.

Sheldon’s young lads took it all in and made friends for life with others their age. Jack briefly pondered the fact that his own Dad could be at this very pub, but a quick swill washed away those brain-twisting concerns.

By now, people were ordering food, and Jack realized he was ravenous. The menu was as British as they come – fish and chips, bangers and mash, cottage pie. The Asian food blight, as Ozzie called it, had yet to take hold. Jack settled on steak and kidney pie, a bargain at 26p. Sheldon was still footing the bill, and happy to do it.

The sustenance served the men well. It fortified them for another set of rounds. For the family men, however, 9:00 p.m. was nearing. Time to call it a night. Sheldon, for one, had had enough, and his young lads had turned a wee bit mopey.

“Been a great pleasure, Jack.” Sheldon extended his hand.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” said Jack, pulling Sheldon in for a manly hug. “Can’t thank you enough for the uh, hospitality, shall I say. Next time, it’s on me. That’s a promise.” Hugging among men was not common in 1960s England, but with alcohol on board, Sheldon accepted the overture.

“Happy to do it, sir.” Sheldon said, then turned serious. “What’re you gonna do now? How you getting home? Shall I give you cab fare?”

It was a jarring question, and it jarred Jack from the spell of alcohol, World Cup glory, and the love of fellow countrymen. He had no place to go, and the look on his face betrayed that.

“You could stay at mine. We’ve a spare room, nothing fancy. The wife wouldn’t mind.” Sheldon grinned. “She’s an agreeable sort for the most part.”

“I’ll be fine,” said Jack unconvincingly.

“Or I could book you a room, it’s no trouble.”

Jack smiled. “Something posh and grand if you don’t mind. Perhaps the Dorchester?”

Sheldon smiled at the small joke, but he was ready to leave. His young lads, moments earlier full of mischief, were drooping badly. “I must get these tykes home to bed.” He tousled his eldest’s hair.

Jack stared into space awkwardly.

“You’re a good man, Jack, that I can tell. But, if you don’t mind me saying, you seem a little lost at times. Like maybe, you’re not in the right place.”

Jack rallied his senses. “Look, I’m right, mate. I’ll be fine. Gimme a minute now, would you? I’ll ’ave me a quick Jimmy Riddle and walk out with ya.”

Jack would obviously have to figure something out. He waltzed into the loo, passing a few of his new mates along the way. For a second, uncertainty was replaced by the previous jubilation. What a day, what a day!

With business done, Jack studied his reflection in the mirror, and any sense of normalcy was abruptly punctured.

What is this place? How am I here? How will I return? Will I return?

Emotions overcame him. If I live out my days in this idyllic England-of-old replica – is that what it was? – would I be happier? Perhaps I would. This version of England is clean and pure. Friendly faces all. It is home.

Yet, it wasn’t home. Jack had a home in England to be sure, but not here. Not this era.

He thought of Lily and the kids and his heart ached. Not only for them, but for all the native English living in modern-day dystopian England. A hellhole by comparison, no one could argue otherwise.

Jack could not and would not desert his family. Nor his friends. He had to go back. People needed him. His fears for the future rose to the surface. Fears for his children’s future.

He had to go back. But how?

Would it happen spontaneously? Was there some trigger?

Or would it never happen?

https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png 0 0 K M Breakey https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/TOO-Full-Logo-660x156-1.png K M Breakey2025-06-25 07:06:322025-06-25 08:48:54Excerpt from K. M. Breakey’s novel “Britain on the Brink”
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Other external services

We also use different external services like Google Webfonts, Google Maps, and external Video providers. Since these providers may collect personal data like your IP address we allow you to block them here. Please be aware that this might heavily reduce the functionality and appearance of our site. Changes will take effect once you reload the page.

Google Webfont Settings:

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Privacy Policy

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