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  Monday 20th September 2004  World News   Powered by Yeast Logic
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Fox hunt ban protestors beaten like dogs

Unprecedented police savagery blackens democracy
by our rural affairs correspondent

Further proof that Britain's fragile democracy is taking a severe kicking from the jackboot of Tony Blair's police state came last week as thousands of peace-loving country folk who had made their way to Westminster to protest against the ban on hunting foxes with dogs were clubbed senseless by riot police and hunted like animals by the horse-borne Gestapo.

This reporter witnessed sickening scenes as particularly vociferous malcontents were singled out by the authorities, chased for several miles by men on horseback and finally thrown to packs of baying alsatians to a chorus of jeers from onlooking police.

Jocasta Eyu-Subsidy, 59, told The Rockall Times: "I'd just arrived and was trying to find a parking space for the Range Rover when I was told in no uncertain terms that I was to 'Bugger off back to the elephant grass, you carrot-crunching bastard'. When I politely declined by storming police lines with a 'The countryside is mine, mine, mine!' placard the officers weighed in with batons and CS gas. It was absolutely terrifying. My daughter Fenella's due to lamb soon and the shock could have provoked a spontaneous abortion. My MP will be hearing about this."

Another protestor — who asked not to be named but confessed that he owned "several thousand acres, a Barbour jacket and an Aga" in Suffolk told us: "I'm so absolutely furious about New Labour's War on the Countryside™ that I exercised my democratic right to protest by bringing London to a standstill and punching a policeman in the face. Bugger me if the blighters didn't fight back. Quite a shock, I can tell you. Badgers don't fight back." With that he took his heavily-bandaged head back to his Toyota Land Cruiser and blasted a defiant "Land of Hope and Glory" from the vehicle's 7-speaker CD-multichanger set-up.

Elsewhere, the shocked survivors of the Met's onslaught gathered in small groups to comfort each other and exchange amusing anecdotes about illegal Eastern European fruit-picking gangs. Oliver Letwin-Cunte — of the venerable cress-growing Cuntes of Renfrewshire and chairman of the Young Farmers' Hunt — took a moment from calming a hysterical female pig farmer from Essex who had just realised that when a government is elected on a promise of banning the hunting of foxes with dogs then it will probably honour that obligation — angrily cornered our reporter when he noticed he was not wearing wellingtons. "You go and tell your fancy London friends that the war has just begun," he bellowed. "We'll sabotage power lines, blockade roads. We'll make the countryside a no-go area for townies. Except the ones who assess farms for EU grants to grow medieval blue asparagus or diversify into low-density alpaca herding."

And amid the anger and the bewilderment there was another, more chilling, warning: "Millions will die as a result of this madness," shouted a young man in a tweed jacket as he furiously kicked the wheel clamp which had immobilised his sleek Volvo estate in a disabled parking only zone. "The farriers will have to go, for starters. There are 1.5 million farriers in Britain who rely entirely on reshoeing fox-hunting horses for their livelihood. It's all they know. There's no way they can be retrained. You can't just stick a farrier in front of a laptop and tell him 'Right-o, Worzel, you're a stock market trader now'. No, a bullet in the back of the head is the only humane thing to do. It makes my weep just to think about the farriers' kiddies. Three million little orphans crying 'Why did that nasty Mr Blair kill my daddy?' while they pick strawberries for 16 hours a day just to earn enough for a glass of water and a mouthful of microwaveable mini-pizza. Think about it."

Previously

 Go on then, hard man