Note: The Libertarian Alliance does not recommend or condone the use of violence to achieve political ends. Of course, the story published below is merely advice on how lawfully appointed Ministers of the Queen should proceed once in office. As such, it falls within the section of the Bill of Rights providing “That it is the right of the subjects to petition the king, and all commitments and prosecutions for such petitioning are illegal.” But the Directors and Officers of the Libertarian Alliance devoutly hope that the restoration of constitutional government will not require such extremes as are described below. SIG
[I would appreciate any eagle-eyed comments noticing spelling and grammatical mistakes.]
The tourists who had come to view Westminster Abbey gathered to view the spectacle as tanks rolled down the street towards the “Supreme Court” building on Parliament Square. There had been no warning of troop movements. The BBC had just gone off air—no one knew why—but otherwise everything was as normal. Soldiers jumped out of the vehicles, armed with machine guns. Something was happening. And there were no media present; just tourists snapping the sight with the cameras on their phones.
A court official ran out, shouting, “you can’t come in; this is illegal!”, and within a few seconds policemen, dozens of them, ran out of the Supreme Court building, blocking the entrance. Major Jackson approached them and explained his business, provoking much shouting and arguing the tourists couldn’t quite make out.
Minutes later, the news broke on Sky. The Queen had agreed, at the first meeting of the Privy Council after the election, to suspend habeas corpus and order the arrest of the judges of the “Supreme Court” on grounds of high treason. The BBC had been taken off air, but a similar stand-off was taking place outside Broadcasting House. It was reported that BBC staff were refusing to leave the building, and commanders outside were awaiting political orders on how to proceed.
The news rippled through the crowd, which stood back to allow whatever act or drama was unfolding before their eyes to continue. No one knew if the court officials would stand down, or what action the soldiers would take. Everyone now knew the soldiers had been ordered to arrest all 12 of the “justices of the Supreme Court”, and to gun down anyone who stood in their way. There were to give no quarter.
Major Jackson issued his final threat and ran back towards the men. The policemen were standing firm, and so was the court official. What they were doing was treason—revolt against the sovereign. The soldiers took aim, and with a nod from Jackson opened fire. The court official collapsed in a bloody mess, murmuring “how dare you?” as he expired. Some of the policemen fell; the others ran; the crowd screamed. But the way had been cleared. Jackson tried the door: it was locked. The cowards had locked themselves in.
The glass door would not withstand a direct collision with a tank. The tank glided up the stairs and jolted against the door, which momentarily remained in place, although shattered in pieces as vein-like cracks appeared, before those pieces fell to the ground. The tank rolled back, and the men ran in the building.
They ran down the corridors of the building, but had difficulty making contact with the enemy. They searched the building room by room, until at the back of the building on an upper floor, he found them cowering together, a group of court officials and judges dressed in haughty finery.
“You can’t touch us: we are judges”, one of them exclaimed.
“You will come with us, or be gunned down on the spot”, Jackson informed them.
“Under what law?”, asked one of the judges.
“By order of Her Majesty the Queen. We will not debate the Common Law with you. You will come, or die now”.
They submitted, all twelve of them. Their fine robes were ripped off—each of them demeaned their apparel, which was meant to signify Royal authority and the majesty of the Law—and they later emerged from the building, cuffed and cowed.
Tom Smith, the new prime minister, had promised a radical restoration of the Law, the law the Queen was required to uphold as a condition of her accession to the throne. He had humiliated the Queen in private consultation as he stressed to her that she was now required to reverse the damage she had allowed to be done over 60-odd years as monarch. In the end, she had no choice: to refuse to appoint Smith would have required another general election, which she would have lost. Smith had campaigned against our membership of the European Union, the constant ingress of Africans and Asians into our country, the official promotion of multi-culturalism and the anti-racialist hysteria, and the failure of our judges to uphold English Common Law, including the provisions of the Bill of Rights and Magna Carta. The aged Queen could not be sure of winning an election on a platform to maintain bureaucratic rule, in London and Brussels, in defiance of the constitution she had sworn to uphold.
Smith, surrounded by a phalanx of guards, came out into Downing Street, where workmen were busy removing the illegal structures that prevented the public from gaining access to the Queen’s Highway along the street, and gave more details of what was going to happen. There would be no long and drawn-out court case for the traitors of the Supreme Court: the Queen had agreed to appoint a Star Chamber that would handle the case speedily. The sole question to be resolved was whether those judges had declared themselves to be a Supreme body, no longer, as required under the Common Law, a committee of the House of Lords. If the answer to that question was that they had declared themselves to be so, they would each be publicly executed in Parliament Square the following day. Justice must be seen to be done.
Smith gave a deadline of 2pm for the BBC workers to hand over Broadcasting House. The RAF stood ready to bomb the building, he said. He was prepared to do it. A den of traitors, who had used or misused their control of information to pretend that foreign rule, multi-culturalism, bureaucratic hypertrophy and such like were in the public interest, had to be held to account one way or the other. Commissioner Sir Jamil Ahmed of the Metropolitan Police was also being arrested, he said, indicating that he, and all the other police chiefs in the United Kingdom would be subject to charges of misprision of treason. All of them knew that the entire political class had agreed to support foreign rule and the dispossession of the English people. The law did not permit them not to take action against treason. They were all guilty.
Having delivered a brief explanation of the day’s events, Smith disappeared back inside Number 10. No one knew what would happen next—who else would be arrested or what other buildings would be attacked. For a government to take power—and then take down the Establishment—this was quite unexpected. We knew Smith wanted to withdraw from the EU and was likely to curtail immigration. But no one could have predicted a palace coup on day one of the new administration.
Minutes later, it was reported that troops were surrounding Buckingham Palace. The Queen was inside—the Royal Standard was up—so had they come to defend the Queen or pose a menace to her? Press commentators argued both sides of this point, but those in the know, with connections in the Constitutional Alliance, which had taken power under Tom Smith, insisted the troops had arrived to prevent the defection of the Queen. She could steal out of the Palace and lead the bureaucratic counterattack. What were the troops’ orders if the Royal Family attempted to leave the Palace? Would the troops open fire on the Monarch herself? No one had clear answers. It felt like the October Revolution in Russia: the CA had come to power peacefully, but was now using force to impose its agenda.
Late morning, the BBC flickered back to life. Broadcasts resumed for a good half an hour, in defiance of the Order in Council, with Charlotte Dimbleby, the latest scion of the media family, known affectionately as “Dimplebottom” among the media elite, for some reason, presenting a frenetic denunciation of the elected government. Everyone must come out against the government, she argued.
“Get to Hyde Park as soon as you can. Hyde Park is the meeting place. If the people are united the government will not dare move against us. Bring whatever you need to defend yourselves”.
The BBC’s rogue broadcast had a link-up with a unit on the ground in the park, and sure enough, people were converging in small groups on the park. The Socialist Workers with their loud hailers were there, but there were more people standing on the sidelines watching what would happen. This was a government prepared to use force, and no one knew how far to push their luck. Every few minutes Charlotte and her studio cut into the live broadcast of Hyde Park with yet more pleas for popular manifestations against the new government.
Then shouting was heard at the rear of the studio, as a group of armed men pushed their way into the studio. They fired on the presenters. Charlotte slumped over the desk, and a clear image was broadcast of blood pouring out of her mouth. The cameramen were taken out. And the BBC was off the air again. It was later reported that stormy arguments raged within the BBC on whether to flout the Order in Council, with a radical group gaining control of the airwaves for a time. SAS teams had entered Broadcasting House and BBC facilities in Salford and elsewhere in a bid to prevent the broadcasts, and Charlotte had been gunned down by one of those teams.
Without the BBC, the opposition was in disarray. Sky covered the day’s events, but coverage was restrained: the facts were reported, but no attempt was made to organise popular resistance, lest a military attack on their facilities be mounted too. Finally, the 2pm deadline came and went. Our soldiers were pulled out of the BBC headquarters. A cordon sanitaire was thrown up around the facility, to prevent the workers within from fleeing for their lives. Combat aircraft were heard overhead and within seconds began to strafe the building. The first bomb shattered the windows and was followed by an explosion within. Flames poured out of the windows, with plumes of smoke rising into the heavens, deftly avoided by our airmen. The next bomb and the next found their targets, and soon the building was yellow and black, cloaked in flames, smoke and soot. They came running out of the entrance, but the army was ready for them. All of the workers who sought to leave were machine-gunned down—live on Sky TV. Smith intended the revolution to be televised, as a warning to anyone seeking to resist. The Salford workers gave themselves up, surrendering their facilities, and escaping, however unjustly, with their lives.
By late afternoon all the police chiefs were in custody. More and more reports emerged of more junior judges being arrested. Smith had only mentioned the justices of the Supreme Court, but CA sources told Sky that the entire judiciary would now be held to account. They had enforced European legislation over that passed by our Westminster Parliament, justified by their interpretation of the flagrantly unlawful European Communities Bill 1972, which the Queen had, illegally, purported to sign into law in an act that made King John’s handing over of England to Pope Innocent III a minor act of Royal perjury in comparison. The numbers being arrested continued to climb, but it seemed clear that some police constabularies were refusing to take part in the raids on homes of the members of the judiciary, despite government assurances that police officers with ranks lower than Assistant Commissioner would not be held accountable for political crimes. It would take a while to get full control of the machinery of state, a necessary consequence of a full-fronted attack on the Establishment.
The magistrates were easier to deal with. It seemed these were not going to be executed. The gallows would never be out of operation if all the traitors were hanged, and so some kind of line had to be drawn. It was announced on Sky that magistrates who had colluded in the administration of unlawful imposts such as the Council Tax—in other words, all of the magistrates, as they had all agreed to enforce “statutes” that flouted the Common Law’s prohibition of personal taxation established ever since the Peasants’ Revolt—would be subject to large fines provided they handed themselves in to the nearest police station, and would thereby not forfeit their lives. A similar concession was available for council officials who had levied a range of “fines”, in violation of the Bill of Rights. They handed themselves in in such large numbers there was no room to sit down in police jails.
The government hadn’t yet announced what was to happen to senior civil servants, including those at the Revenue and Customs who had claimed an extra-judicial right to levy fines. This was partly for fear of a collapse of the entire machinery of Whitehall. Smith was going to deal with the senior civil servants over the next few days. What counted for now was to gain physical control of London. MPs and Lords were another group of potential targets, but once again Smith had delayed an accounting with them until later in the week. Ultimately, everyone who was anyone in the British state was a traitor, but you couldn’t get them all. It was necessary, however, to get enough to them to instil fear in the rest and thus extract compliance from what remained of the state machinery.
The crowd in Hyde Park marched around, yelling slogans, and tried to move into Green Park and thus towards the Palace, but were thwarted by the troops. Penned into the park, with insufficient toilet facilities and growing weary of standing around and arguing with each other, they started to drift home. It looked by the end of the day as if Smith was basically in control. He had removed the organs of propaganda, and seized some of the key members of the Establishment. Most importantly, he had most of the army’s top brass on side, assisted by the consideration that he was a constitutionally elected head of government with the notional support of the Queen and the Privy Council on his side. He was starting to wonder what to do next. He knew he needed to act fast, as the Establishment was unlikely to go down without a fight.
At 10pm, as the new Cabinet met for the first time, news was received, by text message, that an unauthorised gathering of troops had been spotted in Horseguards Parade. This information had not been relayed by the Cabinet Secretary or the other members of the civil service in the Cabinet Office, who feigned ignorance. But thousands of men with automatic weapons and a few tanks between them had now congregated, close enough for an assault on Downing Street. This was mutiny and this was treason—and Smith knew instinctively that Sir Jocelyn Neville, the Cabinet Secretary, was not as ignorant as he made out to be. A brief call to the Palace established that the Queen had not authorised the gathering of troops, or was not admitting to having done so.
Tanks were moved in place to take on the rebels, and the media got ready for a pitched battle on Horseguards. Negotiators moved in defuse the situation. Floodlights lit up the area, and leaflets were dropped by helicopter telling the men gathered there what they were doing was treason. As the negotiations wore on, Crown forces thickened in numbers, to the point where the rebellion was seen to have failed. The commanders of the rebel force handed themselves over, and were executed on the spot, in front of the cameras on Horseguards Parade, without the luxury of a court martial. The rest of the men were arrested, but assured their lives would be spared.
By midnight, the rebellion was over. Sir Jocelyn was taken into “protective custody”—a ruse bureaucrats like himself had often used to justify unlawful imprisonment of political dissidents. The Cabinet Office was emptied of civil servants, and trusted security personnel brought in to sweep the building for eavesbugging devices and to examine the email boxes of all Cabinet Office personnel. Smith decided that they could not rely on existing Cabinet Office staff, who were likely to be in collusion with rebel elements. They were all to be prevented from turning up for work in the morning, with their salaries and pensions cancelled. The failure of the rebellion was a good sign. A window of opportunity had been created to build a free state. It could only be built by intimidating and cashiering the senior personnel of the previous regime.
In the morning, the Star Chamber met. No one knew where the Star Chamber was meant to meet, as the Star Chamber had been abolished after the Civil War, but Smith decided to hold the trial of the judges in Westminster Hall. As no plea of mitigation would be accepted, all that had to be established was whether the justices of the Supreme Court had claimed to be a Supreme Court. The judges of the Star Chamber were handpicked; the verdict was never in doubt and the trial took 15 minutes, all told.
Immediately afterwards, the judges were led in chains into Parliament Square, where the gallows had been erected, waiting for them. And, one by one, they were led up on to the platform, submitted their heads to the noose and a head covering and took their final leap. It could not have been done any other way, or else the judiciary would have frustrated all attempts at reform. The final execution of the junior judges would take weeks, but the machinery was now in motion.
Smith responded to the news of the cashiering of the judges of the Supreme Court with a statement before the cameras in Downing Street:
“I have just received a message from an official of the Star Chamber. It reads, ‘be pleased to inform Her Majesty that the judicial conspiracy against the law has been crushed’”.
In the days that followed, MPs and peers who had supported the bureaucratic regime were arrested too, a development that had been expected, although in some quarters it had been hoped that politicians would be spared in the interests of “toleration” and democracy. Smith knew that such limp-wristed considerations would defeat the revolution he was putting in place. We needed a new Establishment, and the best way to get it was to hang the old one.