All That Vaz

Bradford Muslims protest Rushdie in 1989. “One of the greatest days in the history of Islam in Britain”

By Ben Pensant

As the dust settles on Keith Vazeline’s forced resignation for committing the harmless act of impersonating a washing machine salesman, one barely publicised consequence is the future of the Home Affairs Select Committee and the gaping hole that now needs to be filled. Of course, as anyone who’s followed his career knows, Keith is more than capable of filling gaping holes. Indeed it’s common knowledge in Westminster that if you need a gaping hole filled, Vazeline’s your man (assuming Peter Mandelson is busy).

But his departure has left a question mark over the fate of the committee and it’s unlikely a replacement will be found with Vaz’s enthusiasm for taking on challenging roles – there’s a reason colleagues used to say he reminded them of a young Olivier. It’s laughable that our racist press are so desperate to smear the Labour Party they’re actually suggesting that his parliamentary role on issues such as legal highs and prostitution as being undermined by his use of legal highs and prostitutes. As is the dumb idea that offering to buy cocaine while chairing a committee responsible for reviewing drug laws represents something of a conflict of interest. Next they’ll be telling us St Jezza has no authority to talk about stamping out antisemitism given he’s spent his entire career defending and supporting antisemites.

Which makes it all the more galling that a man who served his country for nearly thirty years should be cruelly discarded over something as trivial as purchasing bugle, cheating on his wife, and spending 400 grand in cash on a flat to bone Romanian rent boys in. Indeed, it’s become clear Keith may not have even known what he was doing that fateful night. His claim that he was drugged holds plenty of weight when you consider he’d had several previous meetings with these young grifters. Who’s to say he wasn’t drugged and forced to pay for sex on those occasions too? And if he was then who better to spot the signs? Anti-Labour homophobes will pathetically ask why he didn’t go to the police and why he carried on texting one of the men days after being drugged by him. But that ignores the nuance and complexity of the situation, nuance and complexity I have no intention of explaining because if Tory trolls are too dumb to see it then tough titty. I’m not doing your homework for you.

So amazingly, he didn’t only do nothing wrong he probably did nothing at all, other than be in the wrong place (his own property) at the wrong time (a Saturday evening) with the wrong people (two blokes he invited over). All things considered it’s clear this was a cynical tabloid sting orchestrated by the Tories and the PLP, just like everything bad that happens to Labour. Just look at the disgraceful way Emily Thornbirds was humiliated by Dermot Moynahan on Skynet News for not knowing the name of a French politician who seconds earlier she’d said she was intending to visit. These plotting ponces expect the earth from Corbyn’s cabinet but when Keith Vazeline – a man who does give the earth, as well as a fair bit of muck – is shown to be human he’s hounded out of his job before you can say ‘Hitler supported Zionism’.

And the scariest thing is the establishment seem blissfully unaware of how important Keith’s role in the Home Affairs Select Committee was. His dedication to researching a subject was second to none, with no-one bar Charly Sheen as acquainted with the world of prostitution as Vaz. His penchant for making untrue allegations against police officers he doesn’t like was matched only by his tireless work in securing passports for corrupt businessmen. And let’s not forget his knack for casting a judgemental eye over those who failed to meet his high moral standards, such as journalists, coppers, and anyone else in a position to make life difficult for a married MP who enjoys buying property, fiddling expenses, purchasing drugs, and having unprotected sex with rent boys.

But by far Keith’s greatest contribution has been his solid work in reaching out to Muslim communities and their representatives. Of course, like most modern leftists, Vaz actively rejects the advice of ex-Muslims, liberal Muslims, or indeed any Muslims who don’t fit into the box the modern left have assigned them marked ‘victim’. No Uncle Tariqs for Vaz, something he made clear back in 1989 when he intervened in the Salmon Rushdie affair.

Younger leftists may struggle to remember the scandal of The Satanic Virtues. Indeed, many older leftists do too, though this tends to be because they choose not to in case it destroys their narrative, much like Shakira courts, forced marriages, female genital mutilation, and the child grooming gangs of Rochdale, Rotherham, Blackpool, Oldham, Sheffield, Skipton, Manchester, Newcastle, Bradford, Preston, Derby, Telford, Ipswich, Birmingham, Oxford and Barking.

But those not suffering from identity politics-induced amnesia will recall how Rushdie found himself under 24 hour police protection after the Supreme Leader of Iran, Ayatollah Khomaniac issued a fatwa ordering Muslims to kill Rushdie because of offensive content found in a book he’d never read. Needless to say, none were successful in offing Rushdie, though Yusuf Islam AKA Wide World songsmith Cat Stephens proved himself exactly the kind of Muslim liberal commentators love by condoning the death sentence and offering to burn Rushdie alive. He subsequently apologised for these comments but has never retracted them, not even when appearing on liberal BBC programmes from The One Show to Late Night With Jools Holland. All credit to the Beeb for refusing to give in to Islamophobia and smear an innocent man by repeating stuff he’s said.

Sadly, it seems Cat may never get to experience the thrill of killing a blasphemer, though he’s only 68 and the way the French have been whining on the last few years you could hardly blame him for wanting to pop his cherry. Still, plenty of other offended followers of the Religion Of Pieces have had a bloody good try, with numerous murders and attempted murders taking place over the last 27 years. Indeed, it’s clear the West could’ve saved themselves a load of bother if they’d just accepted that the only way to combat Islamic extremism is to stop saying stuff murderous religious fanatics don’t like.

Thankfully, Keith was on the right page from the off. As news of the death sentence emerged Rushdie received a call from the 33-year-old new kid on the block. Vaz would get to know many new kids on many blocks over the following years but it was with this phone conversation that he cemented his position as the Muslim community’s greatest ally. Though when I say ‘Muslim community’ I don’t mean normal, peaceful Muslims who get on with their lives without wanting to kill novelists. Because as every modern liberal knows, a Muslim with no victimhood is as much use as a fish without gills. We spent years fixing the Premiership Table of Oppression to put Muslims at the top; the last thing we need is for them to start integrating, assimilating, thinking for themselves and rejecting their vulnerability. We gave them that vulnerability for a reason and if they want to see what happens to groups who stop being oppressed just look at the working-class. Can you see them? No, of course you can’t because they’ve been sliding down the table ever since they rejected socialism. They only clung on for dear life because we needed them during the Thatcher/Major/Blair years and finally got relegated after showing their true, uneducated colours by blindly voting to leave an unelected, anti-democratic bureaucracy obsessed with austerity and privatisation. The ungrateful wretches. So muslims might be top dogs for now, but think on this: so were Jews once and they’ve dropped so far down the league they might as well be in the Evo Stick Northern Premier First Division (South).

But back to Vaz and how he became someone whom the important part of the Muslim community – ie the Islamist part – could trust. But not before he’d told vile Rushdie that the Ayatollah’s fatwa was “absolutely appalling”, assuring the writer he had Keith’s “full support”. Which he did, until a fortnight later when the Labour MP attended a rally in protest at the publication of racist novel attended by 3,000 Muslims. Vaz called it “one of the great days in the history of Islam in Britain”. And it was too, though thanks to delightful events such as Kill The Jews Day this has now been surpassed, to the point where demos and marches organised by religious fascists and left-wing activists have been commonplace in Britain for years, usually attended by Jeremy Corbyn or Gorgeous ‘George’ Galloway. Though sadly not as often as they’d like, as Jezza has his hands full at the minute fretting about the violent misogyny of after-work drinks, while Galloway is busy focussing on hobbies old and new: suing people, modelling The Incredible Hulk’s contact lenses, and turning his head into a bust of Genghis Khan fashioned from an old lady’s sun-burnt tits.

But a joyous day it was and a vital in mainstreaming the left’s love affair with radical Islam, a romance which is still blossoming thanks to the tireless work of pretend moderates such as Tariq Ramadin and Mehdi Hussein, and useful idiots like OJ Jones and CJ Werlwoman. Of course, it remains a largely unrequited love affair as Islamists tend to despise liberals and everything they represent, such as supposedly left-wing values like equality, freedom, tolerance, democracy, secularism and human rights. Perhaps someone – maybe Charlotte Church? – should have a word with the Islamists and tell them they’ve got nothing to worry about because the modern left doesn’t actually share those values anymore: they were long ago sacrificed on the altar of identity politics and replaced with victimhood, puritanism, censoriousness and moral relativism. Allah forbid they start thinking we’re just a bunch of middle-class half-wits giving them free PR, laughing their beards off every time one of us says “nothing to do with Islam!” before thanking us for all our help once the caliphate arrives by cutting our heads off, setting fire to the corpses, and putting it on YouTube under the banner ‘LIBERALS ARE THE PROPHET’S BITCH’.

Predictably the Islamophobic media of the time revealed their bigotry and pounced upon the fatwa. By siding with a British novelist exercising the freedom to write whatever he likes without fear of being murdered – and ignoring the hurt feelings of a gang of middle-eastern theocrats who hang homosexuals from cranes – the British press set out their stall for years to come. And Keith Vazeline, the true liberal, has been fighting them all the way.

Indeed, only last November he was still building bridges with faith communities by pledging to the Muslim Council Of Britain he would have ‘no problem’ with the UK re-introducing blasphemy laws. Where such reactionary measures would leave a married man who sniffs amyl nitrate and has unprotected sex with male prostitutes is anyone’s guess, though I’m sure those Muslims he showed solidarity with back in ’89 would treat him with tolerance and forgiveness, two cornerstones of the Qu’ran. When I say ‘the Qur’an’ I don’t mean the proper one, I mean the Koran that only exists in the heads of apologists. It’s far nicer than the real-life version as it contains not one reference to jihadism, homophobia or misogyny, and zero calls to violence or exhortations to murder whatsoever. As a result it has no influence at all on the actual jihadism, homophobia and misogyny that is widespread in the Islamic world and is not in the slightest bit connected to any acts of violence or murder carried out in the name of Islam. You should read it. Or rather don’t read it, just convince yourself it exists, and repeat the phrases ‘religion of peace’ and ‘nothing to do with Islam’ over and over again until your brain is as ideologically fried as Jihadi Jim’s (PBUH).

Which brings us to Vaz’s crowning glory, the moment in March 2015 when he hauled the Metropolitan Police before the Home Affairs Select Committee and made them apologise to the parents of three Muslim schoolgirls for allowing their daughters to run off and join ISIS. This came mere weeks after JJ was unmasked as Muhammud Emwazi, a harmless jack-the-lad turned vicious killer after being victimised by MI5, suffering Islamophobic abuse in his adopted homeland, and having to face the horror of living in a country where bare-armed women are allowed to drive cars. It’s a stain upon this supposedly tolerant nation that we force Islamists to live in such conditions without considering how such abominations make them feel. And then we have the nerve to be shocked when they start decapitating people. Shameful.

Right on cue peaceful extremist organisation CAGE jumped to Emwazi’s defence, calling him a ‘beautiful young man’, casting doubt on whether he really was Jihadi Jim, and putting the blame for his decision to become a murderer squarely on the Security Services. Because when it comes down to who’s to blame – and for modern leftists, leftists, everything comes down to who’s to blame – the logic is simple: if a young man runs off to Syria to rape children and cut people’s heads off it’s the fault of the authorities for harassing him. When three schoolgirls run off to marry men who rape children and cut people’s heads off it’s the fault of the authorities for not harassing them. Got it?

A simple concept, and one that Vaz should’ve been knighted for highlighting. Yet the right-wing press were determined to ignore the truth and pass the blame onto such unconnected factors as the girls’ religion or the fact that the father of one of the girls had a habit of taking his child to Al-Muhajiroun rallies attended by Lee Rigsby killer Michael Adebayor at which American flags were routinely set on fire. Amazingly this was suggested by The Daily Fail as somehow influencing his impressionable daughter to harbour dark thoughts about Burkas and beheadings. Unbelievable. A man on a flying horse can see the main reasons were Islamophobia, Western foreign policy, and Islamophobic Western foreign policy, as well as the fact that the lazy Met apparently couldn’t be arsed to spy on these vulnerable kids just in case they ran away to join the circus, the Salvation Army, or a terrorist group who burn pilots alive and throw gays off buildings.

Still, as the girls’ father sat in front of the Home Affairs Select Committee clutching his daughter’s enormous teddy bear – in stark contrast to the footage of him chanting in Arabic flanked by black flags vowing to ‘avenge the prophet’ – few could fail to be touched and enraged at the predicament he found himself in through no fault of his own. Luckily, we have the honourable Keith Vazeline to thank for holding the police to account, shining a light on this terrible injustice, and scarpering sharpish when word got out that the stuffed toy-clutching marginalised Muslim wasn’t quite as cuddly as we thought.

Yet thanks to a cruel Fleet Street sting Keith’s position on this vital committee is no more. And he’s left a huge gap just waiting to be filled by an eager young buck. Which, to be fair, normally suits Vaz down to the ground. But we could be in for a rocky few years unless his replacement is every bit as ethical, dedicated, and keen to placate religious extremists as Keith. Who knows, they might appoint a successor with an equally dubious record of fiddling expenses, threatening landlords and purchasing luxury apartments. And they may even find a candidate who, like Vaz, has been splashed with more Romanian fluids than Dracula’s chin. But we need someone as adept at the hard yards as the fun stuff, someone just as comfortable entertaining businessmen as he is pandering to Islamists.

It’s not going to be easy to fill Keith’s gap but rest assured, the longer he stays out of frontline politics the bigger that gap is going to get.


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