It’s a Wednesday evening in June and Fórsa’s headquarters are buzzing with the hum of a discussion on combating the far-right. Given the targeting of union members in workplaces like libraries, the event is being run as a tight ship, security checks are in place and a blanket ban on social media is in force. 

The special guest is Hope not hate’s Matthew Collins, who has spent years subject to threats from far-right extremists after turning his back on hate in his early 20s.

Fórsa national secretary Richy Carrothers moderated a fascinating session with Matthew, covering his own story and considering what the union movement can do to combat hate. 

Collins has one hell of a story to tell.  By the age of 15, Collins, who had exhibited a school yard boisterousness antagonising people and unafraid of using racial slurs, had become captivated by the far-right and joined the National Front.   

Matthew recalled how the environment within the National Front fostered destructive behaviour, particularly among its younger members. "Throughout the early part of my life, the teenage years, I was incredibly destructive, and that's what the National Front encouraged in me," he remembers.

He also speaks about the sense of belonging individuals can get from being part of the movement: “I became, in my mind, an important man and important person. I was elevated then. There was no one anywhere who told me I'd gone too far.” 

As time went on, he became more involved in the bureaucracy of building fascism: “I'd get out of bed, I'd go to their little office. I'd lick envelopes, I'd send stickers. I'd post their bulletins out, go to the post office. And I absolutely loved it. I absolutely loved it.”

His epiphany occurred during a vicious assault on a meeting in a public library in London in 1989.  A squad of forty British National Party (BNP) men, some laden with hammers, laid siege to a meeting of activists who were organising protests against the party setting up their HQ in the locality.

Collins was horrified by what he says as the “potentially murderous” mayhem that unfolded all around him.  “These people who we were attacking would be the sort of people who would sign petitions to save a hospital or save a library or save a school from closing down.” 

“And I thought I made no contribution to the community I lived in. I'd done nothing nice. I just thought, I need to just get out of this, this is horrendous.” 

It was at that point that he turned and became a spy, sharing insider information with Searchlight, an anti-fascist research organisation, which put him on the path to becoming the activist he is today with Hope not hate. 

“For three years I was like a spy who would tell anti-fascists what the campaign was, where the fascists were going to be, what they were going to do, who they were going to attack.” 

Then, in 1993, Collins took part in a television exposé of the group which turned his life upside down, as he was subsequently relocated by the authorities to Australia due to active revenge threats from those who now considered him a traitor.  

After a decade in Australia, Collins returned to the UK and began working with Hope not hate, an organisation which began as the campaigning arm of Searchlight, in response to the British National Party's (BNP) rise in 2001.

Collin’s role initially was to tell people what life was really like in the BNP. Today, he is the organisation’s head of intelligence, engaged in daily work to monitor the far right’s activities. This vital work has had a huge impact, including the prevention of a plot to kill Labour MP Rosie Cooper. 

Anyone who follows Collins online knows he's keenly aware of what's happening on the ground in Ireland with a new wave of far-right agitators moving offline into our communities and workplaces. He recognizes an all too familiar pattern: "They go around intimidating women and entering libraries," he says. "Always libraries and always women." 

When asked what advice he would give to ensure people here don’t get swept up in what he himself experienced in his youth he says he believes the secret lies with the trade union movement. 

“Let's get those of our members who are unsure. Let's get them skilled up. Let's get them prepared. Let's get them educated. The greatest educator of the working class is the trade union movement. Know your rights. Know where you stand and know what your achievements are. Know where you're going. Know your enemy.”

“The trade union movement is always there, it's always organised, it's always prepared. It's always prepared to fight for you and your rights, and those rights should be for everyone. And when fascists come in and racists come in and they start dividing our class or dividing our people, that's where the trade unions can stand up and say, this isn't acceptable.” 

Watch our video on Fórsa’s campaign to support library workers and fight the far-right here.

There’s never been a better time to join a union, and it’s never been easier. Join Fórsa today.