“Upon your return from Calais, you met with Jeremy Corbyn in his parliamentary office and told him what you saw there. It appalled you and him that the desperate of the world were treated with less respect than recyclable rubbish. From your trip to Calais until your death two years later, the plight of refugees tormented you. In them, you recognized all the mistakes and sins of Neoliberalism come home to roost. Moreover, because modern society is now governed by dog-whistle politics, you surmised refugees were going to die in their thousands trying to reach safety and receive no accommodation or sanctuary for their efforts. Your last book attempted to create the reasons for building a more compassionate society, which included making refugees welcome.
However, the bloom had gone off your brand due to your ardent support for Jeremy Corbyn. The media class we depended on to promote your life and experiences was losing interest in you because unlike so many other influencers, you refused to denounce Jeremy. You had so many opportunities to join the crowd who wanted to destroy Corbyn’s leadership. An MP even reached out to you to join the coup. Owen Smith was so desperate to get you to support his leadership bid, he left many obsequious voice mails, on our telephone where he called you “mate.”
“That, arsehole, is no mate of mine.”
Were it not for your social media presence the last eighteen months of your life would have been like when we started this odyssey in 2010, because you had much to say but few avenues to be heard….”
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