What do you do when everything you know and believe in crashes around you in a hail of fists and boots, flying chairs and broken glass? And not just once, but seemingly every time you leave the house? When it seemed that no one was listening, that I was just another white face from a council estate, and that there was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do, the violence and racism of the far right offered me an alluring escape from the mediocrity of school, work and boredom. In 1980s Britain, the belligerent sentiments of a few hundred lonely white men went almost unnoticed...But this tiny minority had grand designs. Fuelled by alcohol and violence, they built a party that would go on to hold seats in council chambers across England and in the European Parliament. And hidden behind those large union flags were individuals - me included - prepared to bomb and kill to make their dreams a reality. But what do you do when you realise that the hatred, patriotism and violence haunting you - from the playground to the pub to the ballot box - stem from your own demons? The answer: you switch sides.