On Saturday morning, I skipped synagogue and went to the Tommy Robinson march instead. By the time I arrived at Whitehall to collect my press pass for the Unite the Kingdom rally, the sun was shining and the stage was still being set up.

I had optimistically planned to go straight to Shabbat prayers and return by 1 p.m., when the march was expected to reach its endpoint. But that proved unrealistic. So I stayed put, somewhat overdressed in a suit, and spoke with two Scottish women setting up tables of homemade cakes and snacks backstage. One told me she had been volunteering for Tommy Robinson ever since she first heard him speak about the Pakistani Muslim paedophile rings. Years earlier, her daughter had been raped. She hadn’t realised it was part of a broader pattern until she saw his work.

The atmosphere throughout was mainly jubilant, though at moments, palpably angry

I had come with some apprehension. The media had warned that this would be a far-right, racist march. I wanted to see it for myself. To talk to the people there. To listen to the speeches. And quite soon, as volunteers arrived and the crowd began to swell, it was clear this would be a day unlike any I had experienced.

My husband, who is also my podcast producer, was with me to film for my YouTube channel. As we arrived, he reached into his pocket and took out a kippah, the Jewish head covering, which he wore all day. I wear mine only during prayer. Many greeted him with ‘shalom’ or offered a hug. None were hostile. Those who started conversations with him were warm, friendly and candid. Most didn’t react at all. The only abuse he received was later, from a woman in the so-called anti-racist protest we passed on our way home. (He is a non-white immigrant to the UK.)

The event itself was a varied mix of speeches, patriotic songs, short film clips........

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