The New Criterion

As you may know--unless you’re British, in which case you definitely know--the evening of November 5 is Guy Fawkes Night, which commemorates the failure of Fawkes & Co.’s Gunpowder Plot to destroy Parliament and James I. Fawkes Night celebrations typically include the irresponsible use of fireworks, the burning of Fawkes in effigy, and the singing of this song:

Remember, remember the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot,
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

I was reminded of this when today I read the following in Mark Steyn’s latest column:

Responding to Islamist terrorism in Britain and elsewhere, Germany is considering introducing a Muslim public holiday. As Mathias Dopfner, chief executive of Axel Springer, put it: "A substantial fraction of Germany’s government - and, if polls are to be believed, the German people - believe that creating an official state Muslim holiday will somehow spare us from the wrath of fanatical Islamists."

Great. At least the 1930s’ appeasers did it on their own time. But, in recasting appeasement as yet another paid day off, the new proposal cunningly manages to combine the worst instincts of the old Europe and the new.

I haven’t heard any talk of a new holiday in Britain, but may I suggest one? Every July 21, let the Brits have Abu Hamza Night. Hamza, aka "Hookie Crunch," of course, was a radical agent of the Finsbury Park Mosque, where the plotters in the failed July 21 attacks congregated. Why not update the proud British tradition of loudly and publicly condemning "gunpowder treason"? Why not burn Hamza in effigy, and remind his sympathizers what Britain has thought down through the ages of those who commit crimes against the Crown and her subjects? Besides . . . can’t you see a resemblance?

UPDATE: What would Abu Hamza Night be without an update on Fawkes’s song?

Remember, remember July twenty-one
When four deadly weapons just "popped"--
’Twas thanks to an error this dynamite terror
Was an instance of terror that flopped.
Sheikh Hook had sent some of his hangers-around
To detonate bombs on the Underground.
But four knapsacks stuffed full of Semtex and nails
Weren’t properly wired, and so the plot failed--

Cook the Hook, cook the Hook,
What a magnificent scene!
Cook the Hook, cook the Hook,
God save the Queen!
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!

A mole in the mosque to find out who’s boss.
A wiretap to catch him.
A hanging judge to hold the grudge.
A length of rope to dispatch him.
Dangle him by his ratty beard
In neighborhoods where he’s revered.
Then hang him by the neck instead--
Hang him, as they say, till dead.
Hip hip hoorah!
Hip hip hoorah!