Complacent, self-seeking, corrupt and foolish: these are just a few of the adjectives that can be applied to the present-day British Establishment.

However, these words very definitely did not apply to Admiral Sir Barry Domvile, who rose to the highest levels of policy-making during an era of crucial interest. This was the period when this country was losing self-confidence and independent direction, as Great Britain began to gradually transform into a drab little Britain. The stage was set for the coming of miserable political hucksters like Blair and Thatcher, themselves at the beck and call of greater powers. The puppets dance, whilst hidden forces pull the strings from behind the scenes, as Domvile put it in his excellent and revealing memoir From Admiral to Cabin Boy. Incidentally, Barry Domvile, whose long life ended on 13th August 1971, was prescient enough to foretell the coming of globalisation and the globalisers with his perfect short description: "...no territorial limits and respects no human ideals, but regards the whole world as one glorious financial playground to be used for its own benefit."

Early awakenings

Just before the First World War, Domvile had begun to gain knowledge of the ways of government, due to his position as assistant secretary on the Imperial Defence Committee. The overall impression he drew from the experience was alarming:

'From that time onwards I had a strong suspicion that there was some mysterious power at work behind the scenes controlling the actions of the figures visibly taking part in the Government of the country. I had not the least idea whence this power emanated, nor could I gauge the strength of its influence. I was in far too humble a position to make such lofty discoveries. Still the feeling persisted. We always vaguely referred to this hidden control amongst ourselves as the Treasury.'

This theorizing was much strengthened by the undoubted fact that successive British governments of the time made idiotic and even near-suicidal decisions, which made no sense whatever in rational terms. A good example – which astonished Barry Domvile – was the abandonment of the alliance with Japan in 1921. There were close links between the Royal Navy and the Japanese Navy, which to some extent had been modelled after the pattern of the former, but largely as a result of American pressure, the British government decided not to renew the Treaty. At once, the Far Eastern possessions of the Empire such as Hong Kong and Singapore were imperilled. In addition, this move was also a calculated insult to the Japanese, a very foolish thing to do to a nation so acutely sensitive to 'loss of face'.

It would seem the right place to give Domvile's verdict about those early suspicions regarding the ultimate cause of the misdirection of Britain:

'This mysterious power, to which I have been referring, will be constantly appearing in the course of this narrative. A short distinctive title will be a convenience. Let us christen it Judmas, because, as I discovered at a much later date, its source is the Judaeo-Masonic combination, which has wielded such a baneful influence in world history for many centuries.'

Now it should be noted that this statement is in no sense the product of 'hate', but rather of common-sense and observation. Domvile had attended numerous peace conferences after World War I, knew both Lloyd George and Churchill, and was as well-informed as you'd expect a Director of Naval Intelligence to be. Remember that, as far back as the middle of the nineteenth century, the Rothschild dynasty exerted enormous financial control over all European countries and even the United States. Benjamin Disraeli admitted as much in Coningsby. Has that power lessened since then? It does not seem likely or probable that it has.

Worked for Anglo-German friendship

By the beginning of the 1930s, Barry Domvile had become President of the Royal Naval College at Greenwich. He saw the acute need of fostering better relations between Britain and Germany and so avoiding another disaster like the Great War. Eventually he founded the Anglo-German Link, an association whose intended purpose was:

'To foster the mutual knowledge and understanding between the British and German peoples, and to counteract the flood of lies with which our people were being regaled in their daily papers.'

Unlike a roughly similar organisation, the Anglo-German Fellowship, which catered mainly for business types and the upper classes, Domvile's Link was aimed more towards ordinary people:

'Membership of the 'Link' was open to all; to anyone with enough sense to realise that the establishment of good relations between English and German peoples was the best work to which any man and woman could apply if they wished to avoid a cataclysm.

'We opened branches gradually all over the country, several in London and its suburbs. I spent a time travelling all over England and Scotland, to address members of new Branches; I never got as far as Ireland, or to any of the Branches started by enthusiasts in the Dominions.'

Despite the fact that Domvile - when visiting Germany with Link members - had always been careful to keep clear of excessive contact with 'official Nazidom', his leadership of the Link was to be held against him. It was the main factor which led to his imprisonment without trial under regulation 18b in Brixton Prison. Then as now the advocates of 'freedom' were extremely touchy about any dissenting views. For whatever bizarre putative reason may have occurred to the Churchill government, his wife Alexandrina was also imprisoned, in Holloway.

The Admiral had come to his 'cabin' in Brixton Jail. One warder, who had been a petty officer under Domvile, was unable to believe his eyes when he found his distinguished former commander in a cell. Interestingly, by the standards of the time Barry Domvile was completely free from racial animosity, referring to kindness of a black prisoner who carried his case, or commenting that he preferred the presence of thirty 'clean and inoffensive' Chinese internees to that of thirty politicians of the type of Herbert Morrison.

For the next three years, Admiral Domvile's home was to be a cell, with a plank bed two inches from the floor, a table, chair and wash-stand. But Domvile did not become too bitter, holding that as long as you were content with our own company, that prison afforded many opportunities to develop your mind that were otherwise unobtainable in the modern world.

Accurate views

Still, it was a most unfair punishment to be imposed just for holding embarrassingly accurate views:

'It has been admitted by Mr. Cordell Hull that the United States Government presented impossible terms to Japan, and only expected a declaration of war in response. I do not pretend to know whether Churchill realised the speedy loss of our Far Eastern possessions which was bound to follow, if his efforts to bring America into the war were successful. I can only reiterate that I did.'

Or consider this statement by Admiral Barry Domvile, which is very relevant today, and should be specially directed towards our conscienceless and shameless 'leaders' to poverty, war and calamity:

'The first duty of any form of Government is to promote the welfare of its own subjects, and not to sacrifice their lives uselessly, in an endeavour to exercise parental control over a reluctant world, mainly at the behest of a powerful alien minority.'

In conclusion, Admiral Domvile's book From Admiral to Cabin Boy is an essential read, if – and this is a big if – you can find a copy. Though obtainable from ordinary bookshops and libraries for some years following its publication in 1947, the book has almost disappeared from public view. Even in the 1950s, Ezra Pound complained that From Admiral to Cabin Boy was being suppressed and quietly removed from libraries. So much for 'democracy'! At the risk of repeating myself, what sort of democracy do we have in this country, when that word means little more a sanctification of misrule by media mafia, fattest wallet and most pliable bought politician?

As Domvile himself commented:

'I have no regrets whatever for undertaking the voyage, as I should always have reproached myself if I had failed to do my utmost to draw attention to the contemplated betrayal of all true British interests. It is a matter for deep regret, however, that my misgivings have been only too completely justified by the passage of events.'