But it's not going to happen is it, Major, because regardless of your protestation, any sane person can see right through those wicked lies. They can determine you, are a man without honour, without integrity, and without shame," scolded Barrington-Lee, with as much showmanship as he could rally.

I thought Bullit might explode from the way his nostrils flared, the way his forehead frowned, and the way his fingers dug into the railing of the dock.

"I, Sir," Growled Major Bullit, "earned my honour in the Falkland's war, when I single-handedly attacked, and then immobilised an Argentine machine gun post; for my trouble I was awarded the DSC. On my return to Britain, I undertook SAS training. I made the grade, and was subsequently sent to the Gulf, where Sir, I was captured, tortured and later awarded the MC for valour, and under interrogation, I never once gave away my men, my command or my country, and that Sir, is where I earned my integrity, and as for shame, Mr Lee, I believe a man only loses that if he lies, deceives, or manipulates those around him for his own personal gain. You may not like the text, or the words in my book. But they are, as always, honest. And there's no shame in honesty. Can you say the same for your honour, integrity, and shame?"

The court fell silent as Major Bullit delivered his conviction with a sense of pride; he stood rigidly tall, and conveyed his emotions in a truthful manner, regardless of whether we wanted to believe him or not. And he managed to convince one jury member at least of his faith, for as Bullit ceased, the juror clapped spontaneously in open defiance of the legal system; and was severely reprimanded by the Judge, Stephen Markham.

The prosecution made a fatal error of judgement when they questioned Major Bullit, or at least I thought they did. They mistakenly assumed he'd try to worm his way out of the accusation or collapse under pressure: he did neither. He stood-up for his belief, gave an honest account of his action, and the fact Barrington-Lee slandered a war hero at that juncture, did nothing for his case.

"No further question's," mumbled Barrington-Lee, briefly lifting from his seat.

Ms Booth, was quick to raise to her feet and have her day in Stephen Markham's courtroom. She placed on a pair of crescent shaped spectacles, viewed down at her paperwork, and left the courtroom momentarily suspended in silence as Bullit composed himself, and adjusted his blue suit.

"Major Bullit," she said, friendly, as she looked up and smiled softly at him: "You are I take it, an aspiring politician; is that correct?"

"I am, Ma'am."

"Then can you explain the first doctrine of your belief for us?"

"Freedom of speech," replied Bullit, sedate, as he sought sympathy.

"My learned friend asked you, Major Bullit, to offer a definition of the word bigot for this court; could you now offer a definition of that tenet, freedom of speech?" Encouraged Booth, leading him.

"I believe in the principle of Voltaire: 'I may not always agree with what you say, but I would defend, until death, your right to say it'." Replied Bullit.

"'Until death?'" Mumbled Booth, as though Bullit's phrase troubled her. But Booth's mumbled pause was for us to digest, not her, and when she was satisfied in her own mind we had absorbed its content, she continued: "When you served as a soldier, Major Bullit, did you believe you fought for that basic human right; the right that all people can speak freely without fear of persecution or prosecution for their belief?"

"I did."

"And did you see your colleagues killed around you, proud young men who fought and died for the same conviction as yourself?"

"I did."

"And obviously, Major, as your fallen comrades lay dying, brutally butchered by the indignity of war you sought retribution on captured soldiers; you struck out with your weapon and systematically killed those that killed your friends?"

"I most certainly did not, Ma'am."

"You took them prisoner, processed them, and then helped despatch them back to their families, loved ones and friends?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Asked Ms Booth, passionately: "Those evil bastards murdered your friends, yet you sent them on their way. Why didn't you just spray them with a machine gun, and seek some justice?" Shouted the defence, emotional.

"Ms Booth!" Warned Markham, ever vigilant.

"There's a point here, your Worship," negotiated Booth. "The learned counsel for the prosecution paints Major Bullit as a fascist, a Nazi, yet is the action of a Nazi to send enemy soldiers on their way, or place them against a wall and have them shot? I would point out to the jury, my client did no more than was expected of a British soldier under the Geneva convention. A man of integrity, not a man riddled in hatred, or racist intent, but a man who fought for the virtue of all our belief. Major Bullit," she continued, "your book, 'Ideologies and Philosophies', makes reference to an all white society; what you term, 'a pure race', why do you hold this belief?"

"I hold it, Ma'am because I've witnessed the callousness of war. I've seen the heinous acts so called members of the human race bestow on each other; how pluralism becomes no more than an excuse for mass murder. I've seen in the Balkans how tribalistic tendencies put faith against faith, colour against colour; and creed against creed. I've excavated with my soldiers help, the mass graves of women and children alike. I've removed the burnt rotting corpses from basement buildings - and all because the integration of the many, by the few has gone horribly and monstrously wrong. That's why I oppose a multifarious society, because the only way one can ensure true cohesion is when a society identifies with its own kind. Only then can it accept the true nature of harmony; and until such a time, man will always seek to slaughter his fellow man, and this motley endeavour forced upon us by parliament, motivated by the selfish few will naturally end in bloodshed." He argued angrily.

"The revulsion of those crimes against humanity sickened you, Major?"

"Of course."

"You don't seek to replicate them then, as the prosecution suggests?"

Major Bullit turned towards the jury, so he could speak directly to them rather than the rest of the courtroom, and he said with conviction: "Anyone who has witnessed the butchery of the battlefield, and seen the tragedy left in its wake realises there is something very evil buried in the human mind and soul. It's easy for civilians to sit in courts such as these, and the annuals of time, when events have passed, and offer judgement on their fellow human beings. But it's different when you're there, when you can smell the stench of death reach forwards and embrace you; when you look into a pit and see corpses riven with maggots, and know they were once people, people who you desperately fought to save, to hide, to salvage, yet all your efforts evaporate in a moment of reality. Only then can you see how one religion, or one colour acts towards another religion or colour. People like Mr Barrington-Lee tell you we're all the same: the politically correct lobby refuse to show any distinction between black and white, male and female, the young and old, the able and disabled. To them, equality is something we all should aspire too, until the horrors I just spoke of sting their ears, and then suddenly we're different, we're better than them. And they believe what happened to them could never happen to us because we're far superior; and maybe just a touch more hypocritical, for if we have equality, true equality, then you should remember, although they're their mass graves today, they could easily be ours tomorrow," surmised Bullit, compassionately. (But it was all a lie.)

"So, Major Bullit, quite the contrary to what learned counsel said about discrimination, your policy takes a paradoxical view. You believe the only true way to eliminate discrimination is to remove the anomalies from the equation; and create a society that no longer possesses the means of cultural diversity, one that has to rely on its own purity for self reliance."

"That, Ma'am, is exactly what I mean. We have to understand, that throughout history, multi-ethnic extinction, and pogrom has existed by the sheer merits of its make-up: eg, it had a capability to exist, where as here it hasn't. However, once you employ a cultural distinction, the possibility becomes obvious by its nature. We, inevitably stoke a situation that history says must replicate if we are to retain a parity with other nationalities. And, for all the pontification in the world, policies of genocide will not alter or change, as our historical knowledge challenges the argument they can. To believe otherwise is a fallacy."

"This pure white society you crave, Major, how do you intend to achieve it; by mass murder, concentration camps, or some magical solution?"

"By voluntary repatriation, Ma'am."

"Your big idea, Major Bullit?"

"I do concede, Ma'am, we stole our policy from the former Labour party member of parliament for Tottenham, Bernie Grant."

"A blackman?" Said Ms Booth, surprised.

"I prefer to think a wise man," complemented Bullit.

"But a member of the Afro-Caribbean community no less?"

"Absolutely."

"So this vile, hate filled agenda doesn't find its roots in the soul of the British Independence Party, it commences its life from a floatation idea, by a member of the black community; a former Labour party activist?"

"Indeed."

"Thank you, Major Bullit, no further questions." Concluded Ms Booth.

The rest of the trial became even more farcical, as Barrington-Lee tried to dredge evidence where very little existed, while Booth ran rings round him, and after a further two weeks of tax payers' money spent in the pursuit of a conviction, the summing up began. Barrington-Lee, went first.

He rose to his feet, with papers in hand, turned to face the jury in time honoured tradition, took a deep breath, and said: "Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, what you have heard from the evidence before you, is a litany of racial abuse, a torrent of filth conveyed by a man who has no other ambition than to pursue his own fanatical ends. On the surface, Major Bullit appears a man of integrity, a man of substance, but beneath that calm, well groomed exterior lies a heart of stone, a villainous trickster whose real talent is the black art of manipulation.

Even from his own book, we see the true nature of the character which stands arrogantly before us: not a generous proponent of real harmony and inclusion, but a monster, a wolf in sheep's clothing who, when cornered is prepared to use any avenue of escape. To claim, as the defence does, that Major Bullit is some latter day hero, ready and willing to lay down his life for others is no more than a lie. From the text in his book before you, we don't witness a man ready to lay down his life for others, but a man who is ready to lay down his life for those that fit into a narrow minded framework of like-minded individuals, individuals whose colour, creed, political activity or religious affiliation match that of his own.

The good Major never volunteered for the Falklands, nor did he volunteer to serve behind enemy lines in the Gulf. He was sent. And while we can all admire, respect even a man or woman whom, in a time of trouble is prepared to offer their life in the pursuit of freedom, we must not forget, attitudes and opinions change. It's this duplicitous nature that brings me to challenge the integrity of Major Bullit, for I don't believe for a moment, Major Bullit is a man of calibre, a man of substance or a credit to his country or his former regiment. Major Bullit is in fact, an embarrassment to everything decent people hold sacred; he is braced, when necessary to abandon every principle he's ever held in the pursuit of glory. And if you find him, even under his own admission, anything other than guilty, humanity itself might weep at the injustice."

Barrington-Lee seated himself in a silent courtroom, as Judge Stephen Markham offered Ms Booth the opportunity to take up where Barrington-Lee left off, and present the summation for the defence. She rose wearily to her feet, after she first examined her notes, and then, as though troubled by the whole affair, clutched both lapels of her silk gown and began.

"Members of the jury, you might at this point ask yourselves why you need even bother listen to this closing statement, as Major Bullit has already pleaded guilty to the charge placed before him. But, let me point out at this stage, that although Major Bullit has declared his guilt, sometimes the law is not always as clear as it might be. And so today we hope to set a precedent and ask you to return a not guilty verdict on a man who has pleaded guilty.

And that is something you are more than entitled to do.

Yet, to understand the reason why, we must first ask ourselves what has really been on trial in this courthouse over the past few weeks: Was it Major Bullit, who made a few offensive remarks, based on a political principle, you might find abhorrent, yet he himself believes passionately in, or is it his right to say it? In other words ladies and gentleman of the jury, did we try the man, or his civil liberties? If we tried the man for his comment, then no more than a man will go to prison for his conviction, but if we decide, we tried the man's civil liberties, his freedom of speech and his opinion, as laid down in UN charter, then we might all find ourselves victims of an over zealous legal system. For if we assume freedom of speech to be fundamental in any democracy, yet we remove the right of the individual to his or her opinion, then we do nothing, except undermine democracy itself: we leave ourselves with what, fascism?

It's a frightening thought, to believe, in our haste, we became the architect of what we sought to destroy. Therefore, when you examine Major Bullit's speech from conference, you should show some semblance of generosity; and perhaps extend those prophetic words Major Bullit himself quoted: 'I may not always agree with what you say, but I would defend, until death, your right to say them,' and hope to God, others extend the same courtesy to us; for if not, how long before you or I reside in the dock, charged with a crime where we said something that didn't conveniently fit into someone else's belief? And for that reason, I beseech you to return your verdict in favour of the accused, regardless of your view of his statement, and by doing so, extol the virtue of liberty, freedom and justice to us all."

Ms Booth seated herself back on the defence bench, and waited, as did we all, while Judge Stephen Markham summed up the trail, and directed the jury to return a verdict of guilty, if they believed, in their heart Major Bullit deliberately sought to offend, and cause offence with intent. However, if the jury believed Major Bullit's words were determined through conviction, then they should return a verdict acquitting him of the charges laid before them.

The court was called to order, we stood, waited for Markham to leave, and then dispersed until two-thirty when the jury returned with their verdict. The court resumed on the dot, and as we waited, Bullit looked casually confident in the dock, as any man might who heard during his trial, one jury member break into spontaneous applause. The usher approached the jury foreman, who stood in preparation.

"Have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?" He asked.

"No." Said the foreman, much to everyone's surprise. Judge Markham looked aggrieved. He ordered the jury to a hotel for the night and a resumption of proceedings at eleven o'clock next morning, and insisted he wanted the matter resolved quickly: if necessary Markham was prepared to accept a majority verdict, of at least 10 - 2. The courtroom reassembled early next morning, and once protocol was established, the usher tried again.

"Have you reached a verdict on which you are all agreed?"

"No."

"Have you reached a verdict on which at least ten of you are agreed?"

"We have."

"On the count of racially motivated incitement, how do you find the accused?"

"Guilty!"

Judge Stephen Markham thanked the jury for their time, and excused them of any further obligation to the court, as most of the courtroom muttered its protest, as journalists fought each other for the exit to deliver their copy to the newsroom, before Markham even had chance to pass sentence. I waited, as I still wanted to hear what Markham had to say, what Bullit's sentence would be, and what type of summing-up he'd make before he passed sentence.

Major Bullit was ordered to stand in the dock, which he did. He even managed to demonstrate remarkable resolve as he stood there, bolt up-right, his legs slightly apart, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, his head held high and proud as if out on the parade ground.

"Major Anthony Enoch Bullit, you have been found guilty by majority verdict of one of the most wicked, premeditated hate crimes a person is capable of committing in a modern society. And, contrary to your protestations, this court decided your defence was no more than a pack of lies from start to finish. You have debased yourself, and your political party in the eyes of the country, and wider community. And, people like you Major Bullit, need to understand the seriousness of these types of crimes, and stop treating them in the flippant, self-promotional manner of which you appear to have treated them. Therefore, in reflection of your provocation towards ethnic minority groups; and taking into account the implications your words might cause, I have no other option than to introduce a custodial sentence that befits such an outrageous act:

You will go to prison for eighteen months. Take him down."

Major Bullit was led passively towards the court cells, and later taken away to begin his unbelievably long sentence at Belmarsh top security prison, where later I sought, and obtained an in-depth interview with him.

Members of the British Independence Party sat shocked in the courtroom, stunned into silence, as their leader vanished from sight. And only George Shaw, who remained reticent until then, dared speak aloud. He jumped-up to his feet, and screamed at the top of his voice:

"For this you'll pay. I promise you, you'll pay!"

The Angel of Death was dragged from the courtroom, still screaming, still fighting, and his eventual threats finally culminated in promised retribution once we established ourselves in power. Eight of those present in court that day faced a firing squad, and four more, received long prison sentences.