“Here lies one of the most intelligent animals who ever appeared on the face of the Earth.”

Violence is the fuel of fascism. Mussolini’s gangsters, the Combat Squad, affectionately called the Black Shirts, recruited from the violent nether layers of Italian society, similar to the Ansar (helpers), who got Islam off the ground by exactly the same means.

“Here lies one of the most intelligent animals who ever appeared on the face of the Earth.”
The resistible rise of risible men: Mussolini, Putin, Hijab.

Benito Mussolini was haunted by the fear that he might be thought weak and that he might be thought stupid. He tried to compensate for the first by bedding countless women, often violently, and by nurturing thugs who assaulted and murdered at his whim, and for the second by cultivating theatrical oratory. Mussolini, “Il Duce,” the Leader, was the role model for Adolf Hitler, “Der Führer,” the Leader (the infamous “Hitler salute” is actually a Mussolini salute, faithfully adopted by Hitler). If Il Duce was good enough to be the role model for Hitler, he was good enough to be the role model for lesser sociopaths the world over, then and now. “Mussolini becomes a role model for every would be dictator of the 20th century and beyond.”

It is hard not to notice the risible rise of a certain Musulmano, Mohamed Hijab, nagged by the fear of insignificance, of being perceived as weak and stupid, doing all he can to project strength and intelligence, as he sees it, from roaring lion video intros (oh, what it is to live as a lion roar intro for a hundred years) to ripping off his shirt in public to convince himself of his virility, the only significance such men can know.

Mohamed Hijab has an inferiority complex viv-á-vis kafir academics and resents having to submit to them. He cultivates an air of intellectual authority in the only way he understands this is done: by theatrical bombast in imitation of Il Duce, by peppering his tortured syntax with long words he does not understand, and name-dropping authors of journal articles like confetti. Hijab even boasted of challenging his lecturer, “a big shot,” for having written sources only, and no chain of narration. “You’ve got no chain! NO CHAIN!” On another occasion, he claimed to have memorised the whole of John Stuart Mill's Utilitarianism (pronounced “utalitarianism”) as a Muslim memorises the whole Qur’an, which means you’re really, really, really clever. He expects people to take notes when he speaks, because, “You’ll get a lot from that, I’m sure,” and is given to rebuking those he wishes to put down with, “I’m your teacher, boy!”

That Mohamed Hijab does not understand the clever words he memorises, is not important to him. What counts is that Muslims, who don’t understand them either, are impressed, and Muslim being the highest standard and the only standard he cares about, he imagines that he impresses everyone else, too, or at the very least, intimidates them. Don’t bother sending in the clown. He is here, and he is extremely dangerous. This is the stuff dictators are made of.

Benito Mussolini whipped up a population in dire straits and ready to follow anyone who would put bread on the table (or make the trains run on time, as glib journalists would have it). The Italians have not lived as sheep for 1400-years. They lacked the inculcated ignorance of the Muslim crowd, and as soon as the depravity their society was sinking into exceeded their destitution, they turned on il Duce. The Muslim admiration for Mohamed Hijab’s big words nurtures his self-obsession, and the theatrical showmanship that convinced Benito Mussolini that others were as impressed with him as he was with himself, works the same magic on Hijab. His squeaky Sancho Panza is unable to advise him that clever glasses are put on to read a text in front of you, and are removed to more clearly see an audience a little further away. They do not go on and off at random moments and make you forget your Duce poses.

One can easily be lured into sympathy for someone who needs to go to such lengths for significance, except that a few weeks ago, an altogether darker side to this clown came explicitly to the fore to squash any stirrings of sympathy: violence.

You don't think we have gangsters? We have Muslim gangsters as well. And when you go ahead and attack the sacred symbols of Islam – although our approach is not to do so – we can't stop the gangsters from dealing with you or anyone else. We can't stop the Muslim gangsters from dealing with you or anyone else, just like if you go to Colombia and you speak about a particular cartel in a specific manner.[1]

Violence is the fuel of fascism. Mussolini’s gangsters, the Combat Squad, affectionately called the Black Shirts, recruited from the violent nether strata of Italian society, similar to the Ansar (helpers), who got Islam off the ground by exactly the same means. In the wake of a young Muslim attempting to murder Salman Rushdie a few weeks ago, many Muslims had something to say about it, especially, “We don’t have to say something about it.” But the murder attempt had signalled to the wannabe Mussolini of Hyde Park that it was safe to drop all pretence and send in the Black Shirts. “We have Muslim gangsters,” he assured his audience in the wings, striking another Duce pose. Egyptian fascist Hassan al-Banna’s Muslim gangsters were the Green Shirts, and Adolf Hitler’s thugs the Brown Shirts. Fascists are nothing if not fashionable. Blasphemers, apostates, politicians who fail to do the Muslims’ bidding – let alone oppose them – Jews, Christians, homosexuals… “We have Muslim gangsters.” We are violent and we are on the move. And I, the Clever One, the Best of People, the Most Intelligent Ever, need but take off my glasses. In fact, here, write that on my grave.


Notes:

1. “Salman Rushdie & Douglas Murray (Response),” Mohamed Hijab, YouTube, 18 Aug 2022 https://youtu.be/Qn9UJgEKWRg