Igrew up in Morley, a working-class Yorkshire town that in the 1980s had one of the largest memberships of the far-right British National Party. We lived just around the corner from the council estate where the local BNP leader had his house.

Every few weeks, nationalist flyers would appear through our letterbox, promising to “take back our streets.” I remember the confusion and anger of reading those words as a young boy, and my mum telling me not to answer the door when they came canvassing for new members. She was terrified of what might happen if they saw us.

In Leeds city centre, I was told to steer clear of the Scarborough Taps pub opposite the train station, historically a known meeting spot for BNP and former National Front members. Even as a child, you learned the map of dange

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