N.B. I suppose I should make allowances for the Tommy Ten Names of this world, and admit that in the white heat of fascistic fervour, it is possible to confuse hamas with hummus…and gooodness knows what horrors might be inflicted by a beardy, muesli- eating sandal-wearing, Guardian-reading pacifist waving a bread stick around!

The Arabic يُكافِح means to struggle, and حُمُّص means hummus - not ...

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Seek truth and justice.

Absence of war’s mere pretence!

True peace, not pieces.

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Don’t mention the war, when chez Basil,

one mentions the war at one’s peril:

it's the war Jerry started,

in Tom’s face he had farted:

yes, sauerkraut’s bouqet's far from floral!

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…and did those boots in World War time,

Stamp around England’s pleasant land:

And were those Blackshirt fascist sods,

From Cable Street off-seen!

Never did we countenance a time,

When journalists would see th’ Old Bill!

At dawn, a-knocking on their doors,

For telling truth, with fear instilled!

We must not cease Evil to Fight,,

Nor must my pen sleep in my hand...

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