66. Hate Thy Neighbour

Episode Transcript
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Lady Justice is a true crime podcasttherefore deals with incidents of violence, disturbing
imagery and explicit content. Listener discretionis advised. Lady Justice True Crime offers
their deepest condolences to victims families andoffers thanks to those who work in emergency

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services. Hello, my lovelies,and are welcome to Lady Justice True Crime

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and the episode Hate Thy Neighbor.My name is Chantelle and thank you ever
so much for joining me. Sowithout further ado, here is some of
the background on the timeframe and locationof this case. This week we are
taking a trip to nineteen seventy eight, when Queen Elizabeth the Second was head

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of the monarchy and the Labor Governmentwas led by James Callahan. It was
a year of political instability, withunemployment in the UK hitting a post war
high at one point five million.The year would be marked by events such
as the first new to speech openingin the UK near Hastings, my favorite

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animal, the otter, becoming aprotected species, and on April thirtieth,
the Rock Against Racism concert was heldin Victoria Park, London. This episode
centers around crimes that occurred in theEast End of London. World famous for
its vibrant characters and culture. Isay the East End in the broader sense

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of the definition, as we aregoing to Whitechapel, but we're also going
to the borough of Newham and slightlynorth to Hackney too. This episode is
slightly different as we will be lookingat three separate cases which happened over three
consecutive months. Each case alone hadvery little information available and all would contribute

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to the summer of the resistance thatfollowed. This episode does contain racial language
that will be offensive, and Ishould state that I myself do not agree
with the use of such terms.As always, sources are listed in the
show notes. At nine thirty pmon April twentieth, nineteen seventy eight,

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ten year old Kenneth Singh left hisfamily home on Western Road, Plastow,
accompanied by the family dog, Tramp. His mother, Estella, had sent
him to the local shop within onepound note to buy a few items.
As the schoolboy walked through the streets, he likely passed some graffiti written by

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a National Front supporter, a commonplacemarker that would be seen across the area.
At the time, there had beenan increasing feeling of hostility towards immigrants,
fueled by a number of factors.Exactly ten years to the day,
Conservative MP Enoch Powell had made hisinfamous Rivers of Blood speech that entrenched a

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sense of hatred towards any one ofcolor who had chosen the UK to be
their adoptive home. The National Front, a far right political party which had
been formed in nineteen sixty seven,had become galvanized by the MP's words and
became progressively more popular throughout the nineteenseventies with its fascist ideals, eventually becoming

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the fourth most popular party in thenineteen seventy four election. A white supremacist
group, they wished or wish asthey should say, as they are still
an organization to see that only whitepeople could can be citizens in the UK,
an ideology called ethnic nationalism. Thoughthis said, it wasn't just the

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National Front that posed an anti immigrationrhetoric. Even the leader of the Conservative
Party, Margaret Thatcher, would bequoted as saying in January of that year
that British people feared being quote swampedby people of different cultures, gaining her

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an eleven point lead against the incumbentgovernment. It was almost normal to be
racist with media also playing a largerole, often demonizing people of color in
order to sell newspapers. The journeythat Kenneth took to the shop was only
about four hundred yards, a shortwalk down his road and partly down the

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adjacent street. Kenneth was happy todo the quick job for his mum and
would be seen smiling as he enteredthe Tech Food Fare store on Southern Road.
However, those would be the lastfew moments that he would have as
a carefree kid. Knowing the walkto the shop would only take a few

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minutes and it wouldn't take long tobe served. Missus Esla Singh began to
wonder where Kenneth was by ninety fivepm, thinking that he may have begun
to doord or gotten distracted with Shesent out Kenneth's two elder brothers, Philip
and Michael, aged twelve and fourteen, respectively, to hurry him along.

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She struck to them just to goto the corner of the road and looked
down past the junction towards the shopto see if their little brother was on
his way back. However, theycame back moments later with worried looks on
their faces. There was no asign of Kenneth along the road at all,
and it became ever more alarming whenseconds later Tramp would arrive at the

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door alone. Within seconds, MissusSingh had stepped out of the door with
the two boys and walked to theshop, arriving at nine to fifty.
It was still light outside and thesounds of children playing football echoed over the
streets from the nearby green Gate Youthclub grounds. Yet the easy going imagery

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of a light April evening didn't matchthe anxious pit in a stellar's stomach.
The Tag Food Fare was a welldecorated corner shop with two big windows and
a wooden door at an angle inbetween. Stepping inside, Missus Sings saw
the friendly face of Missus MCTA Tack, who in turn looked back with a

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look of confusion. Questions were askedabout Kenneth and if he had been in,
to which Missus Tack agreed, statingthat she had watched him leave about
ten minutes before. The trio thenrushed home again using the supposed routes that
Kenneth would have taken directly down SouthernRoad, and would become disappointed to find

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that when they arrived home, Kennethhadn't either, so the three would then
make their way to the police station. Arriving at the front desk at around
ten fifteen pm, Missus Singh explainedthrough her panic, how Kenneth had gone
missing, and understanding that this wasnot a situation of a child running away

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from home, immediate efforts were madein the search of Kenneth. An alert
was sent out from the station toall the cars in the area were the
description of the petit boy who'd beenwearing a light and a rag. After
lodging the missing person's report, MissusSingh made her way to mister and Missus

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Thomas, close family friends who livedon Waghorn Road near Upton Park, asking
them for their assistance in an impromptusearch party. They naturally agreed and began
to comb the streets around Plastow,calling out Kenneth's name on occasion before waiting

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silently for his reply. However,after than an hour, they still had
no luck. Estella, mister andMissus Thomas, the two boys Philip and
Michael, and the family dog Trampwould trace their route back through to Southern
Road. It being about eleven fortyfive pm and the night had become quiet

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as darkness took over. Highlighted byone of the street lamps, John Thomas
noticed that a single piece of thecorrugated iron sheeting that shielded the view of
the waste ground to the streets hadbeen removed. Thinking on a hunch that
perhaps Kenneth had gone to look inside, John and Kenneth's two brothers slipped through

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the thin gap and strained their eyes, hoping to see something. Rubbish big
and small dotted the landscape. However, there seemed to be no sign that
Kenneth had been there. Turning toleave, John spotted a large piece of
carpeting that had been left in thearea, and, thinking it looked rather

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bulky, went over to investigate further. Lifting it up, he would be
faced with an horrific sight. Kennethwas laid there, nearly unconscious and moaning
quietly. Turning around, John wouldsee that Philip and Michael had seen what

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he had and ordered the two togo out, tell their mother to run
home and call the police. Theydid as he asked, and John turned
back to the young boy before him. He was covered in blood, with
wounds to his face, head andchest, and clearly he needed immediate medical

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attention. The sound of someone walkingclose by grabbed his attention and John went
in search of help. He wasencounter fifty five year old Tom James,
he would tell a reporter the followingday, and was walking back along the
alley near the waste ground when aman rushed up to me and asked if

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I could help. He led meto the waste ground and pointed down.
The boy was lying on his back, covered in blood and groaning. There
was a piece of dirty old sackingacross him, as if somebody had tried
to cover him up. Tom infact recognized Kenneth as he was a caretaker

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at the Kreeden Junior School, whereKenneth was a popular student. The police
would be on the scene within minutes, and as they wrapped up the small
boy in a warm blanket, readyto be rushed to the hospital in the
back of the panda car, otherswould arrive to secure the scene. Clearly

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this was no accident. The officerstransporting Kenneth arrived at Queen Mary's Hospital less
than half a mile away just beforemidnight. However, the seriousness of his
injuries meant that he would die shortlyafter arriving. A postmortem conducted soon after

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by the Home Office pathologist found thathe sustained eight separate wounds across his head,
chest and stomach fire a short sharpblade such as a pocket knife,
and had received several crushing blows bya blunt object, one of which had
fatally fractured his skull. The murderinvestigation would be led by Scotland Yards Detective

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Chief Superintendent Ronald Dickinson, who,on hearing the news, rushed back to
work. He had only just returnedfrom a shift forty five minutes before,
though came back to set up aninstant room at the station. He would
take one hundred officers to the streetsto try and uncover every clue possible.

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At the scene, police would beseen searching the waste ground and surrounding areas
with torches, some on their handsand knees, primarily looking for the blade
used and a blunt object as heavyand smooth. Forensics would photograph the scene
in detail, then set about gatheringevery piece of rubbish from the scene,

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including cigarette butts, bits of oldpaper and discarded tin boxes, in hopes
there may be a clue that couldlink to the killer. A sample of
blood would also be taken from thescene in case the perpetrator had cut themselves
whilst using the knife in a frenzy. The day following the attack on Kenneth,

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the area would be flooded by officersgoing door to door and asking both
pedestrians and motorists if they had seenanything suspicious. One detective would state to
the media, this is the workof a maniac. Very few stories would

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appear in the press regarding Kenneth's killing, though some local outlets did cover the
murder with a little more sessed.They would give more gruesome details of the
crime, such as how the attacklerhad left knife gashes in the little boy's
head, as well as how thecommunity had tried to understand the senseless slaughter.

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Articles that would speak to how Kennethwould be missed by many many people.
At his school, creoed Ejuniors,he was a very popular boy,
and his fellow students would attend aspecial assembly explaining what had occurred and warning
them not to go outside alone afterdark. His headmaster, Bernard Carter,

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would be quoted talking of Kenneth andhis achievements. He was a smiling,
likable boy and a fine sportsman.He played in the school rounders and table
tennis teams, and might have wellbeen football captain this year. It is
difficult to find the words to describea crime like this. We are all

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shocked. It's an incomprehensible, obscenekilling. The death of Kenneth devastated the
Seeing family. Philip, who hadbeen there when his brother was discovered,
struggled to sleep. The twelve yearold had become afraid to sleep alone at
night, often been found sobbing atthe foot of the stairs. Weeks after

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the murder, Estella had been givena course of sedatives in hopes of controlling
her grief, which did little tonumb the pain, and Kenneth's father,
Joseph, who would quit smoking monthsbefore his son's death, had taken to
chain smoking day and night. Theloss of such an integral member of their

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close knit family was deepened by hisyouth. At such a young age,
many thought of the future that hadbeen stolen from him. Kenneth was born
in London on December nineteenth, nineteensixty seven, and was a welcome addition
to the single family. He wouldgrow up in a close family consisting of

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his parents, and his three brothersand two sisters. His family recalled how
he enjoyed spending cold winter evenings withhis family around the fire in the lounge
of their home, listening to storiesof his father's early life in Jamaica and
tales of his grandparents he had yetmeet, saying that he longed to visit

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and meet them. A heartbroken Josephwould speak to a reporter in the weeks
after the murder. I still can'tunderstand it. We have never had any
racial trouble here, but because ofall the National Front style slogans painted on
the walls, I can't help thinkingthat this may have something to do with

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it. What else could it be? Kenneth was a jolly, happy boy,
always smiling. He was likable,a homeboy. He didn't know many
people outside the family because we areall so close. He would often spend
whole evenings teaching his young sisters toread. Perhaps that's what he might have

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grown up to be. The localcommunity was outraged at the murder, and
though the area was considered generally quiet, there was little cooperation between the police
and residents. This all changed withKenneth's death. Those who would not usually
respond to appeals for information. Thistime took to speaking with the police.

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Three weeks after the murder, thephone lines set up in the incident room
in Plastow Police Station were still constantlyin use as police gathered information from the
public. Though Kenneth's killing garnered littleattention in the press, a small number
of articles were published at this time. In one, detective Chief Superintendent Dickinson

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was to say, there appears tobe no motive. The boy was not
robbed, He still had the correctchange, the cigarettes and the suits in
his pockets. He was not sexuallyassaulted. This will be a hard slogging
job, but we are getting information. Somebody must know this killer. He

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almost certainly knows the area. Somebodymay be shielding him, a mother,
a friend, a relative, andthey may have confided in someone else.
That is the kind of whisper Iwant to hear. A little over a
month later, it was announced thatthe police had identified a person of interest

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in the case, and over severaldays he had been questioned by the detectives.
On Wednesday May twenty fourth, Peterday, an unemployed thirty two year old
of no fixed abode, would placemagistrates on a charge of murdering Kenneth.
Despite this breakthrough, I cannot findany details of a conviction for Peter Day

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or any other persons in the caseof Kenneth, saying, in fact,
I found very little about this caseat all, both from the time of
the crime and today, the deathof this child has had very little attention.
Two weeks after the murder of Kenneth, another death in the East End

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would occur. Local elections would beheld in London on May fourth, with
the National Front standing in forty threeseats for the council. Al tab Ali,
a twenty four year old textile worker, had finished his work that day,
went to prayer and then to theshop to pick up some groceries.

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One of the last people to seehim alive was another young immigrant and friend,
eighteen year old Shams Addin. Hehad just been to the polling station
and longbreak lane to make his veryfirst vote, a moment he was proud
of, and on seeing his friend'saltab he stopped to speak with him.

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Shams spoke of the interaction as wecame out, I wanted to tell someone
I saw altab Ali coming out ofthe Indio pack grocery store at number forty
five. He had two bags.One had a tiffin box with his evening
meal and one had vegetables. Hesaid to me, it must have been

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your first vote. How was it, I said it was fine. I
asked him if he had voted yet, and he said he would do it
later. He told me he neededto go home because he had some cooking
today, and after that he wasgoing to go out and vote. After
Altab had met with Shams, hebegan to walk home, going across Whitechapel

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Road and down at the street,which ran along an open space then named
Saint Mary's Park. It would onlybe seven thirty p m. And the
sun still shone brightly through the streets, giving a sense of security. Yet
Althab would encounter three male teenagers who, without provocation, began to racially abuse

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him. He would then be stabbedonce in the neck. The group of
teens ran off, leaving Althab aloneand vulnerable with a deadly wound to his
neck. With the last of hisstrength, Althab stumbled, holding his hands
to his neck, towards the busyWhitechapel Road where he had just come from.

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It was mere meters but would havefelt like miles. He passed the
junction of the two roads and triedto make his way towards a bus stop,
yet stumbled due to the loss ofblood falling on the concrete. Commuters
at the bus stop looked over andinstantly knew something was wrong. It concerned

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passer by went to assist, andon seeing the blood, began to call
out for help, whilst trying toreassure Altab that he would be okay.
It would be a pure coincidence thattwo police officers were driving right by in
their traffic car immediately rushed Outab tothe London Hospital. Despite the best efforts

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of medical professionals, Altab died fromhis wounds a little under three hours later.
Very little is known about Altab,but what is known is that he
was an active and peaceful member ofsociety. Altab lived on Reading Road in
Wapping, sharing a room with hiscousin in a small council flat he had

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not long before moved in his belongings, taking up little space upon a shelf
in the home. He had firstarrived in the UK during his teenage years.
Accompanied by his uncle Abdul Hashim.They flew from Althab's native home in
the Select district, then in EastPakistan, to Heathrow Airport on August twenty

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third, nineteen sixty eight, travelingthrough to Moseley in Birmingham. He would
remain in the UK in the followingyears. Hearing of the independence war and
political instability at home from the newsin England, he found solace within his
own family and close community. Althhabreturned home, then in Bangladesh, which

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was still in its beginnings as anation when he arrived in nineteen seventy five,
staying for five months where he wouldmarry. The short honeymoon period was
all that the couple would enjoy,as his bride would stay in their home
country with his parents, the planbeing that she would eventually join him in

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London. Each week, out ofthe small pay he received as a machinist,
he would send a sum to hisfamily, a small reminder of his
love and hope for the future theywould share together. Autab was a valued
member of his mosque. Gullen Mustafa, who also happened to be his manager

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at work, would later say ofhim, well, he used to go
to mosque, so I know himfrom his character side and his working side.
Both sides we have five hundred peoplecome to this mosque every day and
one thousand on Friday, and throughall of those thousands of people, he

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was one of the best. Hewould be credited by others as having a
quote kind hearted, respectful and politenature. He was a normal young man.
On Saturdays, he would work throughhis lunch to be able to leave

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early and watch wrestling on the TVat James Cafe. He enjoyed a quiet
life, surrounded by friends and wasnever a bother to anyone. The attack
rocked the Bengali community and many wereoutraged. The investigation lacked any luster,

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which deepened issues. Patterns of violenceagainst the Brown community in the East End
had existed since at least nineteen sixtynine, with Reverend Keith Leech stating the
term packy bashing had originated on London'sCollingwood estate. Matters would deteriorate further and

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by nineteen seventy six there was fullon terror on the streets. The skinhead
revival of the nineteen seventies came withtwo groups, some who enjoyed the music
and fashion of the subculture and somewho liked a political twist, aligning themselves

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with the ideology of the National Frontto create racial tension. Between nineteen seventy
six and nineteen seventy eight, thingshit boiling points. There was little safety
for those suffering everyday violence. ABoon woman, who was a child growing
up surrounded by this horrific environment explainedin the years later, packy bashing was

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a daily occurrence in the schools,parks and the streets, and one hundred
meter after all dash to our homesto escape the skinheads was routine. I
remember an incident in the late seventieswhen a concrete boulder was thrown through our
window, nearly killing my two youngerbaby brothers who were sleeping on the bed.

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We were all living in a stateof fear. In saying this,
he was not exaggerating. Death threatswritten in blood by white supremacists would be
used as a tactic of fear,whilst on the streets a raised shime of
terror would be carried out with physicalattacks. The day of Altab's death,

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his home that he had shared withhis family was attacked, with the front
door window being smashed in with alarge stone. His cousin was so shaken
he dared not to speak with thepress at all. In interviews with the
media at the time, a numberof people would come forward with their experiences

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with racists in the area. Oneman would show his scar after being bottled
in the face. Another would tellof being called a black bastard and hit
with a crowbar. Another would explainthat he'd been stabbed for no reason.
An elderly shopkeeper who owned a storealong Brick Lane would tell of how one

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hundred and fifty National Front supporters descendedon the three quarter mile long road armed
with stones and hot tempers. Hehad spent three years in a Japanese prison
of war camp during World War Two, where he fought alongside the British and
would be seen visibly shaken as heexplained how one of the stones thrown through

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his window hit him directly in themouth, knocking out a number of teeth.
No one had been a need.The complaint that more often than not,
no one would be held accountable forthe attacks in the community was a
common one. A heartbreaking example ofthis would come from a young family who

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had relocated to a squat from theirflat located on an all white estate.
The parents would be filmed for aTV's This week's program, where the mother,
sheltering her face from the camera,would cradle their newborn child. She
had only recently given birth and toldof how during her pregnancy she would be

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stoned by the youths while nearst herhome. The family had experienced a number
of incidents in which they were madeto feel unsafe in their home, which
all had been reported to the police, yet after statements, no further action
had been taken. The last attackhad happened whilst the father was at work,

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and it was the last straw,he explained. It was in the
afternoon. Two white men came tothe door and said that they were from
the electricity board, and she letthem in. They went towards the meet
her and then said where's the moneyin the house? She started screaming,
at which point they hit her acouple of times, tied her hands up

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behind her back, and kept onabout where they could find money in the
house. Finally, they did gothrough the flat a few times and found
some money. She was trying toscream. Nobody came to her assistance,
but after the men had left,a neighbor came in and untied her and
called the police. She was prettybadly beaten up. Her mouth and nose

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were bleeding and when the police came, they sent for the ambulance and sent
her off to hospital. The youngfamily had opted to move into a squat
for better safety. They knew thatnothing more would be done by the police
and the attackers would likely come backif they stayed in the flat. The

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police would be asked whether the passingof attacks across the East End leading up
to the murder of Alta Bali wasracism the community. Liaisian officer John Wallace,
speaking on camera, replied, itis often said that crimes against Asians
are racist, and in fact,quite honestly, they do occur. But

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what we really have is the Bengalishave come to live in an area which
was a high crime area before theycame here, and maybe it would be
a high crime area after they leave. But by coming to live in this
area, many of the crimes thathappened would have happened anyway. It's no

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surprise that many had lost faith inthe police and their protection long before Altab's
death. One doctor that had movedto Tower Hamlets in nineteen seventy six had
been attacked seven times in two yearshe had only reported the first incident because

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he knew that nothing would be donethe police. Response to the lack of
communication between the Asian community and thepolice would lay the blame at the door
of the Bengali residence. John Wallacesaid, in the country that they come
from, they will tell you quiteopenly that it's only as a very last

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resort that you ever go to thepolice. It's almost something you just don't
do. This has come as ahabit with them. It was imported with
them. When they come here,they don't go to the police. They
tend to go within their own communityand seek remedies there. In addition,

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there is a terrific language problem.Many of the Bangladeshis don't speak English and
are illiterate in their own language.This makes for a very big problem in
communication. By May twelfth, eightdays after the murder from the instant room
set up at the Lehman Road policestation, little more than two hundred people

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had been spoken to for the investigation. Local appeals for Information would state that
no money had been taken from Autubin the attack and requested anyone in the
area around seven thirty or May fourthto get into contact. Many who had
information were reluctant to be openly seenworking with police for fear of retaliation.

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Those who had previously had troubling experienceswith the police would show extreme courage in
engaging for justice from eyewitnesses. Policesketch artists were able to draw up images
of the three male youths that hadbeen seen running from aDNA Street, with

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them being described as two white youthsand one light skinned black. Posters would
be seen across the East End innot only English, but in Bengali,
Urdu and Farsi asking for any helpin identifying the persons of interest. It

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would be on June twenty nine thatthree boys would appear before Thames Magistrate Court
charged with murder. The eldest wasaged just seventeen, a metal worker living
on Maroon Street in Poplar, bythe name of Roy Arnold. The two

(35:57):
younger teens for aged just sixteen atthe time, so their names were withheld
from being published. By the timethat the trial would be set, one
of the unnamed youths would turn seventeenand his name was released, that being
Carl Ludlow, the last of thethree. The youngest would still be sixteen,

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though a Freedom of information request madein March twenty twenty would reveal that
his surname was Burns. In interviewswith police, he would be asked why
he committed such an act. Hetold the detectives during the investigation, if
we saw a packy, we usedto go and have a go at them.

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We would ask for money and beatthem up of beating up packi's on
at least five occasions. On Wednesday, November twenty second, it was reported
that the three attackers had been seenbefore Mister Justice Hodgson at the Old Bailey.
Burns, then still sixteen, wasdefended by Lord Wigada QC. And

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he stated he had come from aquote thoroughly respectable family background and that he
had become influenced by propaganda from afringe political group whilst living in an area
of high immigration. Burns would befound guilty of manslaughter and received a seven

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years sentence. Roy Arnold and CarlLudlow also denied the murder charge and both
were found guilty of attempted robbery,being handed down a sentence of three years.
In his remarks, Mister Justice Hodgsonwould brand the three as cowardly young

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bullies before addressing them and their actionsdirectly. You set out that night on
an escapade which has become known aspacky bashing. As a result, a
peace loving man met his death.Though before the killers of Altab had even

(38:13):
been caught, another racially motivated deathhappened less than three miles away. It
was two thirty am on Sunday,June twenty fifth that forty five year old
ishak Ali was walking home with histwenty year old nephew Faruka Din along Arswick
Road in the Borough of Hackney.Hackney during the nineteen seventies was one of

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the poorest districts in London. Ithad been a slow regeneration after the destruction
of the Blitz, and Hackney hadexperienced an uptick in crime. A survey
conducted by the New Society magazine innineteen seventy eight would find that one in
three sixteen to twenty year olds inthat area held hostile feelings towards immigrants.

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In a statement later made by Fariuk, he explained how he and his uncle
were approached. One youth came upto us and asked for a match.
Then he asked for money. Hetold of how without provocation the youth took
a swing at his uncle, landinga punch which was swiftly followed up by

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a series of kicks. As theinitial blows were landing, another two youths
appeared, and Ishak and Faruq quicklyrealized they were surrounded and outnumbered. The
attack would last a few minutes andin some accounts include a shoelace ligature being

(39:44):
used against Ishak. The assault wouldonly be halted by a passer by who
had witnessed the beating and came toassist the victims. The three youths ran
off, and Ishak and Farik wouldbe transported to the near hospital. At
three thirty two am, Ishac dieddue to heart failure. His family said

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they did not know Ishak to sufferfrom any previous cardiac issues. Varuk would
be treated for his injuries and laterreleased, though certainly had been saved by
the good Samaritan. The attack didnot garner much media attention, and very

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little is publicly known about Ishak,whose name has been disputed. We do
know that he was beloved by hisclose family and at first settled in London
nine years previously. He was arespectable man who was employed as a tailor
and was well liked. He livedwith his wife and family on Keepersdale Road,

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just four hundred yards away from wherehe was set upon by his attackers.
Detective Chief Superintendent George Atwill would tohead the investigation and denied that the
attack on Ishak and Farruk was raciallymotivated. Others disagreed. Ishak's cousin so

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far A Din would say he wasattacked because of his color. There was
no money taken. It happens allthe time in the East End. A
writer with a socialist worker, aLuke Bisvas, was familiar with the family
and also disagreed with the police line. Writing at the time, Faruk,

(41:32):
who was recovering in hospital from hissevere beating, told me that the white
youths called the Tu Bengali's paky bastardsand stinking blacks. Let's not be mealy
mouthed about this. Isshakali was murdered. Had it not been for a West
Indian man who came to their assistance, Farruk would also be dead. The

(41:55):
investigation would focus its efforts locally,with posters being drawn up using identicate images
from eyewitnesses, descriptions of the attackerswould state that the three youths were all
white and aged between eighteen and twenty. The first attacker was said to stand

(42:16):
at about five seven and had mediumbrown hair. On the nineteen question,
he was wearing a cream foeneck jumperwith brown trousers. The second was also
said to be five foot seven withlight colored hair, and had been wearing
a white t shirt under a shortblue jacket and blue trousers. The third

(42:43):
was said to be a little shorterat five five and was wearing a red
phoeneck jumper with blue jeans. Itwouldn't take long for names to be given
to the police, and on Junethirtieth at Old Street Magistrate's Court, three
youths would be seen on a murdercharge. At the time of the attack,

(43:05):
the eldest was seventeen year old JamesMitchell, a cabinet maker from Old
Kentish Road in Camden. The othertwo were just sixteen. Therefore their names
were not published yet. They weresaid to be living in Homerton under local
authority care. After being quote certifiedunruly, the three would be granted bail

(43:30):
with a condition that they lived outsideof London until their trial On September twenty
first. That same year, theywould be seen in court. Though all
were found not guilty of murdering ishakAli, each would be found guilty of
two charges, the first being assaultwith the intent to rob and a second

(43:53):
being actual bodily harm. They weregiven a sentence of six months for each
offense, to be served concurrently sixmonths. The brutal killings of Kenneth,
Autab and ishak led to a summerof resistance by the community, which would

(44:14):
see a number of peaceful events plannedto voice feelings of frustration at the lack
of response to cause for better protection. One of the most notable would happen
ten days following the attack on altabwhen seven thousand Asians took to the streets
in a non violent protest. Meetingclose to the scene of the murder,

(44:38):
they would march towards central London,gathering at Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park.
Despite the weather that day, thelarge group would rally for justice and could
be seen carrying placards with the wordsself defense is no offense and here to
stay, here to fight chance couldbe heard from Afar who killed altab Ali,

(45:06):
racism, racism, shams Uddin,explained the movement years later when speaking
with the BBC. When Altabali losthis life, we didn't feel like we
had a choice anymore. We hadto fight back if we were going to
survive. Following the rally at HydePark, the protesters would walk behind the

(45:29):
hearse carrying altab as it moved throughWhitehall towards Downing Street. When they arrived,
leaders would visit Number ten, deliveringa petition regarding the cause. This,
as I say, was just oneof many. Following the killing of
Ishak, three hundred mourners would silentlyprotest behind a large sign depicting the words

(45:54):
stop racist murders, no more policeracism. Those who participated would each hold
a black banner walking from the sceneof the crime at Erzwick Road to Hackney
Police Station. Though these events hadbeen done with peace at heart, that

(46:14):
didn't stop some violence from broaking out. The Asian community was supported by other
organizations, such as the Anti NaziLeague, which had been set up the
year previous to combat the rise ofthe far right, though the efforts of
a calm resistance would usually be metby anger from supporters of the National Front.

(46:37):
The battle for Brick Lane as themovement became known, had left the
area the most policed area in allof London. Each Sunday, the National
Front supporters would gather at a meetingat one end of Brick Lane and the
Socialist Party would meet at the other. Though most of the violence and arnage

(47:00):
had been caused by the skinheads,they rarely would be arrested. The memory
of altab Ali, whose case isthe most known out of the three we
have discussed, was kept alive bythe community who had fought because of him.
In nineteen ninety eight, the openspace in which Adla Street runs adjacent

(47:22):
would be renamed altab Ali Park andwould have a poignant memorial placed. In
October twenty fifteen, Tower Hamlets Councilannounced that they would mark May fourth as
altab Ali Commemoration Day, remembering thefight against racism and to move on in

(47:43):
strengthening community cooperation. I think thatwe can all agree that the world we
live in today is very different tothat of nineteen seventy eight. I mean,
no ten year old would be servedcigarettes in a shop, or at
least a hope. That said,there are many parallels that we can draw
from that era to today. Thisepisode was inspired by a song called Hate

(48:07):
Thy Neighbor by British artist Hyphen,which I will link in the show notes
if you wish to listen and it. There's a line that strikes me.
Racism doesn't exist anymore, at leastthat's what I was taught. That's what
I was taught. Yet I doknow it to be wrong. According to

(48:27):
government statistics, in the year endingMarch twenty twenty two, there were one
hundred and nine thousand, eight hundredand forty three race hate crimes recorded by
the police in England and Wales.During the year previous there were ninety two
thousand and fifty two. That's anincrease of nineteen point three percent. This

(48:52):
of course does not account for anyinstance that were not reported to the police.
Also, only does racism exist,it is growing Now. Before we
depart, I think there's just enoughtime to try and balance out those scales
somewhat with a small act of kindness. This week A came across Hestia,

(49:15):
an organization that supports those in crisis. The organization does brilliant work and in
part helps those who have been victimsof modern slavery. If you've got an
old phone, that's lying in adrawer somewhere, or about to upgrade your
phone, Please consider sending your oldphone to Hestia. It's free and I'll

(49:37):
be putting further information in the shownotes. Each phone is given to someone
who needs it and can be acrucial link to the outside world and help
restore independence. My voice is definitelygoing now, So with that, go
be good people, Go be kind, Go be safe, and most importantly,

(50:00):
go be happy.

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66. Hate Thy Neighbour

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