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Fight Against the Fascists

In the London of 1936 when Britain was in the throws of appeasement, Nazi organisations emerged like bugs from a wall and in England we had Sir Oswald Mosley. He had formed his organisation, The British Union of Fascists and was trying to emulate Hitler. His main policies were total support for the mad German dictator, hatred of Jews and to bring terror to the population of the East End of London.

In 1936, many of the national newspapers seemed to support his views. The conservative Daily Mail would publish society photographs of the leading fascists at their high society rallies with pictures of the Cliveden set or the Mitford girls.

Anti Semitism was rife. Most of the Jewish population in London felt very threatened.

Mosley, at that time felt confident enough to order his thugs to a march in the then Jewish quarter of the East End of London. They were all dressed in black shirts and armed with knuckle-dusters amongst other weapons, fully kitted to teach the Jews a painful lesson.

The Labour League of Youth, the Zionists, and the Young Communist Party, organised a huge demonstration to stop them passing through the East End. Amongst the protestors was yours truly, and my older sister Freda. The police at that time seemed determined to allow the march through as arranged. But many Londoners - Jews, Christians, and anti-fascists prepared to die rather than allow them to pass.

Before the war, the Fascists used to rant at Ridley Road, Hackney every week. If any of the audience would voice opposition, they would disappear under a hail of blows from the Blackshirts. Terror was their trade.   The battle song of the Mosleyites went like this:

Scum of Aldgate

All Yiddish Boys

Up and Down White Chapel

With their Hebrew Noise

They are the Dregs my friend

That brought Old England Shame

But they can’t beat the Boys of the B.U.F. (British Union of Fascists)

That made Old England’s Name.

The sole object of the B.U.F. was to strike terror similar to the fascism being produced by their Nazi comrades in Germany.
The crowd of anti-fascists was now approaching half a million. The Blackshirts marchers with their anti-Semitic slogans had nowhere to go. 

But still the police would not ban the march! At that time the civil war was exploding in Spain. The Spaniards were fighting for their freedom and they coined the phrase ‘Non passerun’. This now became our slogan and no way would we allow the Blackshirts to ‘pass through’.

The prevailing crush in Commercial Road, caused my sister Freda (aged 19) to be pushed through the windows of the Gardener’s Corner shop at Aldgate. Fortunately, she suffered no injuries and was always proud to be part of the anti-fascists movement protest.

During the war Mosley was imprisoned as an enemy of the British Empire. At the end of the war Mosley was released from detention and to our amazement, he started on his old tricks of anti-Semitism. All their meetings ended in trouble. After Auschwitz with its vile crimes committed by the Nazis in the war, most of us were amazed that the Labour government would allowed Mosley the freedom to air his vile Nazi beliefs.

However a new breed of Jewish ex-servicemen were emerging (of which I was one) and in no way would we tolerate the filth again spewing from Mosley’s poisonous mouth.

An ex-servicemen’s organisation was formed to combat the B.U.F., named the 43 Group. They would attend all the Blackshirts rallies physically smashing up their meetings using the same weapons used by previously by the Blackshirts themselves.

The ex-servicemen in the group were not like the previous servile and timid pre-war Jews, they had been trained by the British Army and seen combat. As soon as the Mosleyites would put up their stand, the ex-servicemen would attack. I must state that they gave the fascists a tremendous bashing.

One story I was told, was during a melee when Mosley was himself being attacked, a stalwart helper came to his assistance and fought alongside him. After they had packed up, the helper told Mosley that he wanted to join his organisation to help as much as possible. He also told him that he was a rich man and would like to buy him a strong van for him to speak from for it would be safer than the wooden stand which would make the leader feel secure from the ferocious anti-fascists. Little did the leader know that his helper was a member of the 43 Group who would inform where the fascists would speak next. Many of the Fascists were injured. It seemed that they did not appreciate receiving the same medicine they had previously dished out and recruitment became a problem.

Eventually, the fascist movement was disbanded, hopefully never to raise its ugly head again. Its inglorious leader is now safely in hell, where he so rightly belongs.

Returning back to 1936, one subject that continually was affecting many of my friends in London, apart from the advancing clouds of German and Italian fascist aggression, was the situation of the Spanish civil war. It was patently clear that the Spanish government, fairly elected, was in danger of being overthrown by a military dictator using Moroccan mercenaries to crush the legally elected government. It, also, was evident that the help given to Franco by Italy and Germany was a rehearsal for the coming global conflict.

All my friends (we were all left-wing at that time) wanted to get involved in the struggle and we felt keenly that the Government in Europe and elsewhere was prepared to do nothing to help a legally elected Government to survive.

A few of my older friends volunteered to join the newly formed International Brigade. It was manned by men of many countries. Britain formed a Brigade of about 4,000 volunteers. I had a close friend Emanuel. We called him Mannie.

Before he left for Spain, he told me that a special Spanish lady Named ‘La Passionara’ had come to London to recruit men to fight for the freedom of Spain and in fact the World.

I was invited to listen to her at a meeting in the East End of London and I really understood how she received her name. I told her I would like to help, but she sorrowfully shook her head and told me I was too young. I was just 17.

My close friend Manny was killed at Jarama. Afterwards a fellow volunteer returning after the fall of Madrid sang this song to me; it goes to the tune ‘Red River Valley.’

There’s a valley in Spain Called Jarama,

It’s a place that we all know so well,

It was there that we gave of our manhood

And most of our brave comrades fell,

I am proud of the British Battalion,

And the fight for Madrid that they made,

For they fought like the Sons of the Soil,

As part of the 15^th Brigade.

There are several verses added to this song, which is so sad it often makes me weep. There is no doubt that Spain was betrayed by the ruling countries in Europe and the whole World paid the price.