I FIRST met Ellis Hillman in the 1950s, when he came to discuss with me about joining the RCP.
He had been, for a time, a student at a Yeshiva, an orthodox Jewish seminary, specialising in the study of the Talmud. He did not find the transition from the sometimes vehement theological discussion to the Marxist dialectic very difficult.
He remained a member of the RCP till it was absorbed by Healy's group inside the Labour Party. Healy recognised his talents and he was soon a member of the Central Committee. At that time, the group aimed at capturing positions in the Labour Party. With the group's encouragement, Ellis was elected to the Greater London Council, while I and a few others became local councillors.
When Healy decided to come out of the Labour Party and launch the Socialist Labour League (later WRP) as an independent organisation, this move was vigorously opposed by Ellis and myself. We were of the opinion that there was still work to be done in the Labour Party and that it was both politically and strategically wrong to abandon the positions we had established, especially the control of the Young Socialists.
Ellis was always a bit of a maverick. For the last few years, he belonged to none of the overtly left grouplets, yet he appeared to be everywhere. I remember him trying to act as honest broker when Ernest Mandel cam over to try and avert a split between the Militant group and The Week.
He was also something of an eccentric, a founder and lifelong Chairperson of the Flat Earth Society. He was also, for a time, a collector of golliwogs from jam-jars.
When he became Mayor of Barnet, in Thatcher's former constituency, he removed all photos and relics of her and replaced it with a bust of Lenin.
He once took me to his room at the town hall to show me his book shelf. It was filled with official tomes of one sort or another. When swung around on its hinges it revolved to reveal another side entirely made up of his Marxist book collection.
This was typical of Ellis.