I started the undercover project that led to Year of the Rat because I was worried about the rise of the British far right. That was back in 2022. I never imagined that just a couple of years later, the country would suffer the biggest explosion of far-right rioting in the post-war period and see the election of five MPs from the far-right Reform UK party.
At a parliamentary level, and as of this month, at a substantial local level, there are now advocates of mass deportations and supporters of Tommy Robinson in positions of power.
Not that long ago, it would have been a shock for broadsheet commentators and elected officials to call, say, for the expulsion of legal immigrants. It would have been unthinkable to hear a Labour prime minister refer to Britain as 'an island of strangers'.
Extreme ideas like these are now becoming mainstream, much to the delight of the white nationalists I knew. The British far right spends a lot of time thinking about how to mask their views and make them more acceptable to wider audiences. I spent a year putting on my own mask to infiltrate and better understand them.
If you'd like to read about the future that far-right activists want, how they organise, who their leaders are, and what they’re like as human beings, you might be interested in Year of the Rat.
Extract
I was undercover in the British far right for more than a year, pretending to be a racist named Chris while feeding information back to my colleagues at HOPE not hate, an anti- fascist organisation. I put my normal life as a journalist on hold to spend time among racists. Britain First, who I was with in Poland, is one of the extreme groups I infiltrated. There was also a far-right community network, a white nationalist campaign, a neo-Nazi conference, a circle of Holocaust deniers, and a movement of race scientists, including one well-funded organisation financially backed by Silicon Valley.
Each of the groups had their own beliefs and attracted members for different reasons. Not one of them knew my real identity, although I repeatedly came close to being found out.
For a year, I was constantly frightened. It felt like there was an exclamation mark stamped onto my brain. Exposure was my biggest worry, and I imagined it happening in two ways. Either I would make a small but irreparable slip-up, like introducing myself as Harry instead of my fake name, Chris. Or I would be in a pub, wedged into a corner, when a friend from my normal life would approach shouting my real name and I would be unable to explain myself.
Before a meet-up, I thought about all the ways it could go wrong, obsessing over possible conversations and how to escape if the worst happened. An hour undercover required three or four to prepare. As a naturally nervous person, I found that my habit of mentally rehashing past conversations and planning future ones was helpful in preparing for undercover meetings. I would rehearse dialogue and try to anticipate potentially difficult questions about who I was, or why I wanted to know something. Afterwards, I would be unable to sit still, my fingers palpitating with a five-espresso jitter. Having kept myself steady for so long, I would have a lot of nervous energy to release. Every night after a meet-up, I had nightmares about being exposed.
I put myself through this because I wanted to get close to the British far right, find out what kind of people join, and, if possible, do what I could to disrupt their operations. The far right now makes up around a third of terrorism convictions and a majority of referrals to the government’s Prevent counter-radicalisation scheme. The threat of terrorist activity was frequently in the headlines during this time. A man firebombed an immigration centre in Dover. A white supremacist from the Midlands made firearms and explosives to kill ethnic minorities and was convicted on terrorism charges. Another man was charged with the attempted murder of an asylum seeker in Worcester. Understanding where these people come from, what they believe and how they organise has never been more important.