So then because thou art lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth. – Revelations 3: 16
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In a remarkable speech before the Dutch Parliament, Machiel de Graaf, a member of Geert Wilders’ Party of Freedom, made a plea for an end to the Islamization of the Netherlands. It was a brave speech, a speech that no American statesman would have had the courage to give, but sadly, within the speech itself was the seed of liberalism that rendered the speech useless as soon as it was given. De Graaf stated, when listing the negative effects of the Islamization of the Netherlands, that the Moslems were not as tolerant of lesbians, gays, and Jews as were the native Dutch. No man of Europe wants to exterminate homosexuals or Jews, but a true European does want deviant behavior and anti-European groups controlled. He does not want a democratic, multicultural society.
Now, I don’t think de Graaf really cares all that much about gays and Jews; he was just trying to influence the liberals by showing them that the Moslems’ values are in direct contrast to the liberals’ values. But does this policy ever work? In our own country did the liberals stop aborting babies when the prolifers pointed out that blacks were aborting babies at a rate disproportionate to their numbers? Did the liberals sign on to stop Mexican immigration when they discovered that the Mexicans have very un-liberal ideas about the environment and pollution? And of course the most telling example of all: The liberals who claim that they and they alone really care about women continue to worship blacks who have made the rape and murder of white women their main occupation.
We must conclude that no appeal from a white male, which, if acted upon, would stop or slow down the ongoing colorization of Europe or the ongoing destruction of the traditional Christian faith of the European people, will have any effect on the liberal ruling class. And why is this? The answer is obvious to all those who have eyes to see. The liberals worship Satan, and Satan hates everything white and Christian.
White males such as Machiel de Graaf, who try to appeal to the liberals to alter some aspect of liberalism, fail to understand the nature of modern democratic governments. These governments are not derivatives of the old Anglo Saxon tribal democracies, they are the offspring of the French Jacobin democracy that Burke fought against with such incredible ferocity and nobility of spirit. “The people” must be served in the modern totalitarian democracies, and “the people” are the anti-white colored people of the world, particularly blacks, as well as every devotee of any religious sect opposed to the Christian faith. “The people” must be and will be served. So it is written in liberal law and so it shall be. The non-liberal white male is in the same position in a society governed by liberals as were the three soldiers put on trial for cowardice in the movie Paths of Glory. In that film, the defense attorney made it crystal clear that no man in any regiment had advanced further than the three men accused of cowardice, but the military judges had made up their minds before the trial began: Someone had to pay for the military commander’s blunder, so the three soldiers were executed. In the liberals’ mind it is better that every last white man should die and every last vestige of Christian Europe disappear from the face of the earth than they should have to face up to the reality that liberalism is not only morally irredeemable but is also a hopelessly flawed system of government that cannot sustain itself. (1) Europe will either be solely white and Christian, or it will be solely colored and heathen; it will not be multiracial, multicultural, and multi-religious. The colored heathens know this: Why can’t the white man grasp it?
The colored heathens see existence as they have always seen it, as a struggle for survival and dominance. They don’t understand why the white man will not fight for the survival of his people; all they know or care about is that he will not fight. They can have the white man’s women and everything of a material nature the white man possesses. They can never have the white man’s spiritual inheritance, but that does not concern the colored barbarians.
The popular neo-pagan explanation of the whites’ surrender to the colored barbarians is that their Christian faith made them weak and passive. Only a man who cherishes his abstract idea of reality as a substitute for truth can swallow such an explanation. The Europeans, during the Christian phase of their history, expanded European dominance and influence on a much wider scale than the pagan Greeks and Romans ever did. Such an accomplishment is certainly not the proof of the truth of the Christian faith, but it does give the lie to those who claim that Christianity made the Europeans weak and passive.
The European people no longer defend their civilization, because they have mistaken their descent into the gutter of rationalism for an ascent to the heavens. Christian rationalists chopped away at the “fantastical” elements of Christianity until there was nothing left but the resurrection. And in the hands of secularists, the belief in the resurrection of Christ soon disappeared as well. The colored tribesmen have never known anything but the natural world; their gods are nature gods and their faith does not transcend the perimeters of the natural world. Not so with the Christian Europeans. For them the natural world was a mirror of a greater spiritual realm, a realm of midsummer nights’ dreams in a kingdom of many mansions, presided over by a benevolent King. What happened to the Europeans’ dream? Why did they stop believing in their Father’s kingdom of many mansions?
In Robert Louis Stevenson’s short story “The Body Snatchers,” the villains of the story murder men and women in order to sell their bodies to doctors and scientists for the purpose of dissection. What a magnificent description of modernity! In order to dissect, we must first commit murder. The rational men treated God as part of the natural world and then dissected Him in order to know Him by the sum of His parts. Is this the God St. Paul encountered on the road to Damascus? Is this the God of the Christmas carols, the dear Christ who enters into the hearts of those who seek Him still? The dissected god is not a living God; he is not the God of the antique Europeans.
The consequence of making Christ the god of rationality was that the people of Europe placed rationality above everything, even above the wisdom of the heart, a wisdom much greater than reason. The liberals respond to every black atrocity with a defense of the black murderer, because they worship darkness and not the light. But why do the grazers not cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war on the black barbarians? They don’t do what is natural and right – natural in the Christian sense of the word – because they have been trained for centuries to be rational and moderate. Is that not the essence of the white man’s faith? The liberals are not rational and moderate; they use their reason to support their maniacal hatred of all things white and Christian. Are the colored barbarians rational and moderate? No, they are not. They are true to their animal instincts; when they sense weakness they strike, without any ethical concern about moderation and reason.
Nowhere is the sad spectacle of white rationality vs. liberal passion and black barbarism more apparent than in the letters to the editor sections of the liberal-run newspapers and websites. It’s not often that liberal newspapers and websites publish letters of dissent, but when they do print them they are like the one I read a few days ago. The white author of the letter asked why there was no outrage last January when three black men kidnapped a white police officer in the state of Virginia and subsequently took him into the woods and killed him. Of course we know why there was no outrage about the murder of the white police officer. He was of the ‘demon’ race, and his black murderers were of the ‘sainted’ race. The letter writer then went on to reveal why white people are killed with impunity by black barbarians. He stated that he deplored the death of the white police officer just as much as he deplored the death of Michael Brown. Now, it is possible that the white author, like Machiel de Graaf when speaking of gays and Jews, did not really equally deplore the two deaths; he could have been trying to appease the liberals and get his letter published. Or, God forbid, perhaps he actually did deplore both deaths equally. But in either case, the fatal disease of the white man was on display in that letter. First, rational appeals to the liberals’ rationality will have no effect. The liberals are rational! They are rationally committed to the inhumanity of Satan. Like the pro-choicers who know what they are doing when they murder babies, the liberals know what they are doing when they support the wholesale slaughter of whites. And secondly, the two killings are not to be equally deplored. A completely innocent white man was murdered simply because he was white and a police officer. Michael Brown was killed in self-defense by a white police officer who was responding to a report of a robbery and a beating, perpetrated by the now sainted Michael Brown. We might deplore the fact that Michael Brown chose to be a thug, but we shouldn’t deplore the fact that the police officer killed him, because by doing so the police officer saved not only his own life but also the lives of the men and women who would have been killed by Michael Brown in the future.
The path of rationality and moderation is the path the liberals and conservatives always demand the white man should take. He must never, ever become “extreme” – that would be bad. But the liberals are extremists. They have taken their hatred of the white race to the extremest height of their liberal kingdom of Satan on earth, and from that height they hurl satanic thunderbolts at whites. With each thunderbolt they throw, they say to their white victims, “Be moderate, be rational.” Again we must ask, are the colored barbarians moderate and rational? They are extremists, they seek the blood of the rational and moderate whites. Can a man be rational and moderate when his foe stands over his wife and children with a battle axe? Apparently a white man can be rational and moderate in the face of that threat. But should he be?
The liberals advise white men to be rational and moderate while their people are being slaughtered, because it suits their agenda. But why do the conservatives advise whites to be rational and moderate in the face of white genocide? It is in part because conservatives think in terms of abstract people. Human beings exist as generic cannon fodder for conservative intellectuals. Whether the cannon fodder is black or white makes no difference to most conservatives; they simply need abstract people to whom they can pontificate. But some conservatives do realize that without some whites left on earth they will have no one to pontificate to, because the colored races will not listen to white pontifications. Those conservatives preach rationality and moderation because they believe it is the smart thing to do, and smartness in the modern conservative’s view of existence is the highest virtue. In the conservative’s muddled brain he is following the Greek philosophers when he calls for rationality and moderation. Even if he was correct in his assumption that the Greek philosophers preached rationality and moderation, the conservative would be wrong to follow the Greek philosophers. There is a much deeper and profounder wisdom, a wisdom that commands us to be extremists in defense of our own, that is to be found in the Christian poets of Europe. But this “golden mean” of rationalism and moderation is not even consistent with the principles of the Greek philosophers. They advocated a golden mean between eating too much and eating too little, a golden mean between drinking too much and drinking too little, and so on. Even the Greek philosophers, the best of them, did not claim that you could take a middle ground between two opposed principles and come up with the right principle. Only a modern post-Christian conservative believes in such moderation and rationality.
The devil preaches rationality and moderation to white Christians so that they will remain passive in the face of white genocide. He has even entered the Christian pulpits, enlisting the formerly Christian pastors into his satanic army. We should and must listen to other leaders and other voices. We should listen to Burke, who told us that a man who did not hate where he should hate would not be able to love where he should love. And we should listen to Thomas Nelson Page, who enjoined us to be Christian Goths, loving and hating with all our hearts. I don’t believe that a man with a European heart can ever be defeated. Such a man will be an extremist. He will fight for kith and kin in spite of liberals and colored barbarians. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…” +
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(1) The recent massacre in France is just one more example of the unsustainable nature of liberal governments. A multicultural, multi-religious government cannot protect its people, because such a government has no commitment to one people and one faith. If France was white and Christian, instead of multi-racial and irreligious, the real French people would not be sitting ducks in a Moslem shooting gallery.
The French government will respond to this new outrage as all the white, liberal governments respond to such outrages. They will condemn terrorists per se, but they will stress their love and support for the people of Islam. In short, they will be rational and moderate. The liberal west will never restrict Moslem or colored immigration, because the liberal west has only one real enemy: white Christians.
God rest you merry, gentlemen Let nothing you dismay, Remember Christ our Savior Was born on Christmas Day, To save us all from Satan’s power When we were gone astray.
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Mau Maus walked the streets of New York City, demanding the death of white police officers:
What do we want? Dead cops! When do we want it? Now!
The liberals looked on with approval and then refused to acknowledge that their approval of “understandable black rage” had anything to do with the murder of two police officers, who were – ironically – not white but mistakenly taken for white by the black Mau Mau who shot them. White genocide will not cease until white people once again hate where they should hate and love where they should love. Europeans who love much will kill to protect their own. There is only one proper response to the type of satanic hatred that was on display in the liberal-sanctioned anti-white march in NYC and the anti-white marches throughout the anti-nation called the United States of America.
The white grazer, as a result of absorbing centuries of rationalist pap, lacks the ability to recognize evil. So long as the liberal cloaks his evil in some tangentially civilized, rational form the grazer will remain a grazer. The liberal always sanitizes his evil agenda with sugarized catch words and phrases such as “inclusiveness” and “combating racism,” but liberalism is pure negation; it is a parasitical ideology that feeds off the living organism of Christian Europe. This is the reason the liberal always speaks and acts according to the rules and principles of a bastardized Christianity. Lacking a soul of his own, he must feed off the ancient faith of people who did have souls. Once every last white Christian dies, liberalism will cease to exist and then colored barbarism, not liberalism, will envelope the earth. The conservative universalists tell us the colored races will usher in a new Christian era, but that will not be the case. We will either have a white Christian Europe or we will have a colored Babylon.
Liberal utopianism and Christian utopianism: The adherents of the former ideology make the destruction of everything white and Christian their raison d’être while adherents of the latter ideology stand by while the white race is destroyed, because they yearn for a Christian paradise where only pure and perfect colored people preside. Of course they will need a few Christian Atticus Finches to preside over the brave new Christian world. Both groups, the liberal utopians and the Christian utopians, must camouflage their hatred of white Europeans with utopian rhetoric, because what they advocate is a march toward darkness and death. Who would march to that tune if it was not cloaked in utopian finery?
There is no mercy or compassion in the liberals or in the conservatives who try to appease them. The true European will grasp this and take steps to protect his people instead of begging mercy from liberals, who have no concept of mercy. How can anything humane come from a people who have renounced the humane God? The satanically inspired, inhuman liberals and their subhuman colored gods will never cease from their efforts to destroy white Europeans. We can either fight for our people or we can betray them by universalizing them into a cosmic trash heap. I believe we should fight, but then I am not a cosmic Christian.
In the great Christmas classics such as Dickens’ A Christmas Carol and Thomas Nelson Page’s Santa Claus’s Partner, which was inspired by Dickens’ work, the main character has a Christmas transformation: he goes from darkness to light. There is no finer scene in movies or literature than the one in which the spiritually transformed Scrooge goes from the dark streets of London into the light of his nephew’s living room where his kith and kin are making merry in honor of the Babe who was born in Bethlehem.
There are far fewer Christmas transformations now that the founder of Christmas has been blended with – and often replaced by – the negro, but there will always be some brave souls who will seek and find, in defiance of our modern negro-worshipping society, the God of mercy and love.
Although the conversion experience remains the same — that shall never change — the way a transformed sinner responds to society after his conversion will, of necessity, be quite different from the responses of Scrooge and Berryman Livingstone. Those repentant sinners were still living in Christian societies, so after their conversions they sought out the Christian people they had shunned all their lives in order to make amends and to become part of the mystical body of Christ. ‘Tis not so with today’s convertite. He must shun his fellow Europeans as he would the plague. And in point of fact his fellow Europeans do have the plague; they have a spiritual plague. The liberal contingent hates the Christ Child, and the grazers want to wrap Him in swaddling clothes and take Him to their Super Bowl parties where He can be placed in the cloak room and ignored. The modern repentant Scrooge must walk away from his nephew’s house, inhabited by liberal negro worshippers and stupefied grazers, in order to find that mystic thread to the past where his people dwell, the people who worshipped the Savior in spirit and in truth.
The repentant Scrooge of modern Europe does not shun his fellow Europeans because he lacks humanity, he shuns them because he has left the cult of liberal inhumanity behind, and as a consequence he needs communion with Christian souls rather than community with liberals, who worship Satan through the negro, or with grazers, who wander aimlessly over the fruitless plains of negro-worshipping Europe, trying to sustain themselves on the opiates of modernity, such as drugs, sex, and blood sports, while they let the ancient virtues of their ancestors – faith, hope, and charity – fade away into the dark night of Babylon.
Can a man live alone? No, he can’t. But a false, fabricated communion with liberals and grazers is not a true communion of souls. Such a coupling estranges a man from God and makes him feel as if he is wallowing in a spiritual pig sty. If we stay with our blood faith, prepared to hold to that faith though the whole world be against us, God will not abandon us. He will give us the human and divine aid that we need to sustain us in the day of battle. That was the belief of our ancestors and that is our trembling faith. If it sounds like the stuff that fairy tales are made on, that is because it is. The European people are the people who believe in fairy tales. We are the all-or-nothing people. Either the Christ tale is true, and He shall raise us up on the last day, or it’s all false and we are of all men most to be pitied. The ruling liberal elite in the Western world has, for virtually the entire 20th century and into the 21st century, proceeded on the assumption that Christ be not risen and our fairy tale faith is indeed false. The Europe of 2015 is the end result of that assumption.
I do not look on the European people’s current fallen state as a permanent turning-away from Christ, because I believe in the one essential part of the European fairy tale – the hero who sets the kingdom right. He defeats the powers of darkness arrayed against his people, because his strength comes from a heart infused with a divine charity that comes from the heart of our Lord. The dragon that the hero must overcome is the dogmatic theology which is spewed out by the religious systematizers, the men who think that God can be put in a little box only they can unlock. If the hero can break the rationalist spell, he will be like unto the Ancient Mariner:
The self-same moment I could pray And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea
The systematizers and their adherents, who are ever ready to impose their systems on Christ’s people, do not love Christ in and through His people; they have rejected the divine-human channels of grace. What they love is their own minds, so they create a god that is a reflection of their minds and put that man-made reflection in a box labeled ‘God.’ Then they bid men come and worship that box. But the true God? He cannot be placed in a theologian’s black box, He is the spirit who will go where He lists. His love is revealed to us in the hearts of His people. The image of Satan, which is seen in a mind concentred in itself, is revealed to us in the hermitically sealed black boxes of the religions systematizers. Dickens depicts the conflict between the systematizers and truth in a comic sequence in Great Expectations:
By that time, I was staggering on the kitchen floor like a little drunkard, through having been newly set upon my feet, and through having been fast asleep, and through waking in the heat and lights and noise of tongues. As I came to myself (with the aid of a heavy thump between the shoulders, and the restorative exclamation “Yah! Was there ever such a boy as this!” from my sister), I found Joe telling them about the convict’s confession, and all the visitors suggesting different ways by which he had got into the pantry. Mr. Pumblechook made out, after carefully surveying the premises, that he had first got upon the roof of the forge, and had then got upon the roof of the house, and had then let himself down the kitchen chimney by a rope made of his bedding cut into strips; and as Mr. Pumblechook was very positive and drove his own chaise-cart—over everybody—it was agreed that it must be so. Mr. Wopsle, indeed, wildly cried out, “No!” with the feeble malice of a tired man; but, as he had no theory, and no coat on, he was unanimously set at nought—not to mention his smoking hard behind, as he stood with his back to the kitchen fire to draw the damp out: which was not calculated to inspire confidence.
The conservative Pumblechooks are in the same camp as the liberals: they drive different chaise-carts, but they both believe that abstract theoreticians in chaise-carts possess the truth. White genocide will not be halted until we abandon the rationalism of the systems and return to our fairytale faith in the God-Man. A case in point: When the NYC policemen, at the funeral of the two officers shot and killed because of the liberals’ support for the sainted Michael Brown and Eric Garner, turned their backs on the liberal Mayor of NYC, they were protesting the liberals’ policy of always supporting the negro criminal over the white police officer. That is all well and good. But the officers’ mild protest was still within the parameters of liberalism. They had not come to a realization that white people cannot just stick their tongues out at liberals, they must fight them and their colored allies to the knife. There will be no justice or compassion in a society run by liberals for the benefit of their black gods. A counter-revolution, not a reform, is needed. But in order to see this, a man must divest himself of his rationalism and see the world as it is.
The world is as the European fairy tales describe it: there is a devil and there is a God, who is at war with the devil and his minions. We cannot seek redemption from the devil, we can only call on Christ by name and fight the devil and his minions. Once my mad-dog liberal sister heard me reading one of Grimm’s fairy tales to my children. She was appalled, because that particular tale was about two children who died and came back to life. That was “unrealistic.” My sister’s reaction to the fairy tale was symptomatic of all liberals and the conservatives and grazers who kowtow to them. The spiritual transformation that took place in the European people after they saw with their hearts and believed in Christ, has been rationalized away. Instead of judging and condemning modern Europe for abandoning the ethos of the European fairytale, the modern conservatives, both lay and clerical, try to show the liberals that Christianity is just as logical and scientific as liberalism. And they are right. Christianity, as a system, is just as logical and scientific as the liberals’ system, which is why the Christian systematizers are not Christians. Their logic and science stems from the minds of men while the ethos of our European fairyland comes from the heart of God and enters into the hearts of men who seek Him still. The true Europeans, the fighting remnant, still believe in the “sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying” God who was born in a stable in Bethlehem, and rose again from the dead on the third day.
Because liberalism is pure negation and no one can live on pure negation, there will always be some remnants of humanity in liberals. They sometimes retain a few private virtues, for instance, they might be kind to animals or read a story – albeit a liberal story – to their children, but at the core of the liberals’ faith, the faith that they act on, is Satan. They are adamantly opposed to everything human, to every value and virtue that comes from the incarnate God. The Europeans won’t stop white genocide until they see that the liberals are the evil half of the European fairytale. Through their worship of the negro, they worship and serve Satan. It’s no coincidence that the Mau Maus are now regarded as the good guys, the much maligned and persecuted black gods. Such blatant Satanism cannot be ‘dialogued’ out of existence. We need European heroes who see with blinding sight, the blinding sight that comes from a heart connected to the Lord God incarnate, Jesus Christ. +
“We must prepare to meet with Caliban.” – Prospero
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Writing in the latter half of the 19th century, Dostoevsky asked, “whether a man, as a civilised being, as a European, can believe at all, believe that is, in the divinity of the Son of God, Jesus Christ, for therein rests, strictly speaking, the whole faith.”
When I went to divinity school at the turn of the century, the vast majority of my professors and fellow students believed that the answer to Dostoevsky’s question was, “Yes, a civilised European can believe in the divinity of Christ.” But by the time I was dismissed from my duties in 1950 I was virtually alone among my fellow clerics in my belief that a civilised European could still believe in the divinity of Christ. My fellow clerics had suddenly developed “problems” with every aspect of the Christian faith. We were supposed to redefine the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer, which was based on the Bible, in order to “meet the needs of a changing world.” I fail to see in what way the world has changed that would render my belief and my ancestors’ belief in the Son of God an erroneous belief. But my fellow Anglicans did believe that airplanes, automobiles, and Charles Darwin made Christ an irrelevancy.
I was not dismissed from my parish at St. John’s because of my orthodox heterodoxy, because my parishioners were somewhat behind the clerics in their wisdom of the world. Having just survived a second world war in which they spent a good deal of time in bomb shelters and rebuilding bombed-out buildings, they still tended toward fairy tale beliefs in God, country, and beauty, so my “quaint” sermons, devoid of quotations from the modern Biblical exegetes and the demythologizers, struck a responsive chord in my war-torn countrymen.
And because I had forged such a close bond with my parishioners, I did not want them to think that I was leaving St. John’s at my own insistence. I was offered full retirement pay if I resigned voluntarily, but when I refused to retire I was dismissed, without pension, and I was forbidden to perform any service in the Anglican Church.
I have complied with that edict in a fashion. I have not performed an Anglican service in an Anglican church, but I do have a home in London, purchased with my own personal savings and the donations of my former parishioners. And what I do in the privacy of my own home, for the benefit of my friends, is my own business.
Though I had many quarrels over changes in the prayer book and the new Christianity, I was not ultimately dismissed because of what my superiors called my “hopeless provincialism.” That might have been a factor in weakening my reputation with my immediate superiors, but the final straw that broke the camel’s back was my criticism of the Anglican missionary outreach in Africa and my public support of my fellow Britons in Kenya and South Africa. Certainly my friendship with Peter Delaine, whose great-grandfather had had first-hand knowledge of the events in Haiti that came in the wake of the French Revolution, had helped solidify my opinion about the horrific, satanic nature of black-dominated nations. And before that there was Thomas Jenkins, who also gave me some insight into the growing menace of a liberal-induced, black plague which involved actual black natives rather than germs.
But ultimately I think I would have retained my English “prejudice” against the colored stranger, because of a basic Christian instinct to be true to my own and to resist the encroachment of the colored stranger who would, if I let him, destroy my hearth and my neighbors’ hearths. The conflicts of the Europeans in Africa are going to be the conflicts we have right here in Europe. In America it already has happened, under the guise of a false, universalist Christianity: the black barbarians and the liberal clergy men are making war on the confused remnant of white people who are at least trying to hold on to a Christian ethos even though they have lost their vision of the living God. No doubt that loss of vision is partly because their clergymen are marching around demanding, in the case of America, civil rights, and in the case of Britain, the wholesale extermination of the whites in Africa. Oh, they call it democracy and equality of the races, but in every African nation in which the blacks come into power, under the guise of democracy, the whites are slaughtered. As it was in Haiti, so it was in Kenya, and so it will be in South Africa if the South African people ever abandon apartheid and democratize their nation.
But it is of Kenya I want to speak, because it was to Kenya I was summoned, and it is in Kenya that Satanism in its purest form, certainly not pure in the good sense of the word, reared its satanic head. Mr. Anthony Jacob, my good friend, has pointed out in his book White Man Think Again that Kenya is very much the world:
“Kenya, we must understand, is a microcosm of the entire West. Therefore let us ask ourselves, What would have been our general White position today if the world had consisted only of Kenya, with no other place for us to go to and no other form of government for us to live under? What then? We, the White race, would already have been obliterated or reduced to everlasting serfdom, would we not? Yet however fanciful it might still seem to the white peoples of the northern American states and occupied Kenya, for we cannot keep on being racially overruled and uprooted and moved on. Wherever we are now we are in effect in Kenya…”
I concur with Mr. Jacob’s opinion; I saw the Mau Mau close up when I went to Kenya in 1953 and stayed there through 1955. I saw hell close up during those years, and I saw that white Europe must not perish or satanic Kenya will become the world. I’m writing this part of my memoir in the year of our Lord 1966. I was a man in my early seventies when I went to Kenya, and now, in my eighties, I have been asked why I bother to write so many unpopular things about the African menace to European civilization. Such questions puzzle me. I write because I love my people, because I love my God, and because I hate Satan. Are those not motives enough to keep striving in this world and the next?
My summons to Kenya came from a young man of 22 years of age. His parents had been fourth-generation farmers in the Kenyan Highlands, a very poor area for farming initially which the British farmers had somehow transformed into a prosperous, striving, agricultural community. They constituted five percent of the farming population of Kenya yet they produced 90% of the agricultural yield of Kenya. Of course, now that “independence” has come to Kenya and the white farmers have either fled or been exterminated there is virtually no agricultural production. The black Kenyans simply demand money from Britain and the United States, which they always receive. Considering what was done to white people in Kenya, you would think that the correct moral response from the colonial powers would be men with guns and bayonets. But it isn’t. The British equivalent of carpet-baggers have flooded Kenya as the great dispensers of “charitable relief.” Charitable relief for whom? Why, for the Mau Maus, of course, not for the white victims of Mau Mau terrorism. And let’s be clear about the Mau Mau uprising. It was a united effort; those black Kenyans who didn’t actually run with the Mau Mau – the house servants and the black workers on white farms – were all Mau Mau supporters. As it was in Haiti so it was in Kenya: there were no “good darkies.”
In previous pages of my memoir, which is not a traditional memoir, I’ve mixed the dramatic mode of expression with the novelistic mode of expression. In this case I’ve chosen to use only the dramatic mode, because that is how the story of the death of British Kenya strikes me, as a tragic drama.
London, 1966
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Act I. Scene 1. 7 May 1953. The Montgomery farmhouse, Kenya Highlands.
[William Montgomery has invited four prominent members of the Kenyan Farmers’ alliance to discuss the Mau Maus and decide whether they should act alone, forming their own private army against the Mau Maus or continue to rely on the colonial government to protect them. In addition to the four coalition members, Thomas Bennet, Sir Charles Belcher, Michael Green, and John Williams, are Christopher Grey, Edward Owen, Margaret Montgomery (wife to William), Susan Montgomery (daughter, age 18), Jennifer Montgomery (daughter, age 16), Ethan Montgomery (son, age 20), and Peter Montgomery (son, age 13)]
William Montgomery: I’m glad you all could come. We know what we’re here for, gentlemen, but let’s leave the serious business for after dinner. Reverend, will you do us the honor?
Christopher Grey: Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life (in the which thy son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility); that in the last day, when He shall come again in glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal, through Him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, now and forever. Amen.
William Montgomery: Thank you, Reverend. And I must apologize for not having you over to dinner sooner, but I hear you’ve been well taken care of by Edward.
Grey: Yes, he’s been taking good care of me.
Edward Owen: It’s more the other way around.
Margaret Montgomery: I understand you grew up on a farm yourself, Rev. Grey.
Grey: Yes, in Yorkshire, it’s a good countryside, right out of Constable.
Margaret: How do our Kenyan Highlands compare to Yorkshire?
Grey:That’s not a fair question, Mrs. Montgomery; nothing compares to the haunts of our childhood.
Susan:Even if you grew up in a city?
Grey:I think so. I’m not a born-and-bred Londoner for instance, but I’ve grown to love it like a native. A city, if it is a European city, can capture a man’s soul just as a European farm can capture his soul.
John Williams: I could never be happy in a city. My people have been farmers for more generations than I can count.
Grey:Many farmers feel that way. I know my parents did.
Susan:Why did you become a minister, then?
Margaret: Susan, I must remind you that we invited Rev. Grey for a dinner and not an inquisition.
Grey: I don’t mind. But it’s difficult to say, Susan. I suppose it was because I loved the parents who raised me on that farm so much that I became a preacher instead of a farmer.
Susan: I don’t understand what you mean.
Williams: Nor do I. For a man who has a reputation for straight-forwardness and clarity, you’re being very obscure.
Grey: I don’t mean to be.
Ethan: He probably just doesn’t want to hurl pearls before swine. He doesn’t want to waste his…
William Montgomery: Ethan!
Grey: I don’t see any swine here, Ethan, except for what’s on the table. I’ll answer Susan’s question:
Thy bosom is endearèd with all hearts Which I, by lacking, have supposèd dead; And there reigns love, and all love’s loving parts, And all those friends which I thought burièd. How many a holy and obsequious tear Hath dear religious love stol’n from mine eye As interest of the dead, which now appear But things removed that hidden in thee lie. Thou art the grave where buried love doth live, Hung with the trophies of my lovers gone, Who all their parts of me to thee did give; That due of many now is thine alone. Their images I loved I view in thee, And thou, all they, hast all the all of me.
Jennifer: [addressing Susan] Are you answered?
Susan:Yes.
Thomas Bennet: On a much more mundane level, let me say that the mutton is excellent and the pork roast even better. Mrs. Montgomery, there is no finer cook in the Kenyan Highlands or in Britain itself than you.
Margaret: I doubt that you’ve sampled all the cooking in the Highlands let alone all of Britain, but I thank you, Sir Thomas, for your gallantry. Ethan, fill Sir Thomas’s glass again.
[Bennet raises his newly filled glass to Margaret Montgomery.]
Sir Charles Belcher: I’m an Australian by birth and breeding, but no matter where I settle I’ll always be a Britain. I don’t think anyone here feels any different.
William Montgomery: I know what you mean. I feel British to the bone, even though I’ve never been to Britain.
Sir Charles Belcher: We’re both of the same blood. Nothing can change that.
Ethan:Do you think we’ll be allowed to keep the Kenyan Highlands British?
Michael Green:I don’t see why not. My family fought in both wars, and we’ve lived and died on our land here for four generations.
Edward Owen:That doesn’t make any difference to MacLeod and company. They’re here for one reason: to turn the Kenyan Highlands over to the Mau Maus.
William Montgomery: We all sympathize with what you’ve been through, Edward, but the Mau Maus are an aberration. They do not represent the average black Kenyan. I grant you that the Mau Maus are inhuman beasts, but I hardly think that the rest of the black Kenyans have any sympathy with them.
Edward: You knew our kind and faithful black butler, didn’t you, Mr. Montgomery?
William Montgomery: Yes, but…
Edward:Well, he was one of those “good darkies,” wasn’t he? And he held my 12-year-old sister down while they…
Grey: Perhaps we can leave that for after dinner, Edward?
Edward: [glancing at Margaret Montgomery and lowering his eyes] I’m sorry, I guess I’m not capable of polite dinner conversation any more.
Susan:Why shouldn’t we discuss the Mau Maus right here and now? Is it because you don’t want to offend the ladies? Why should we be spared the gory details?
William Montgomery: Because that’s the way I want it, and you’ll abide by my wishes [followed by a stern glance at Susan].
Susan:Yes, Father, I only meant to say that since the Mau Maus seem to have a particular hatred for white women that we should be included in the discussion.
Grey: I’m sure your father will include you in many discussions of the Mau Maus, but he does not want you involved in a detailed discussion of their atrocities. And I agree with him.
Margaret:So do I Susan.
Edward:I didn’t mean…
Green: It’s not your fault, son, it’s these filthy times we live in.
Peter:Is it true, Reverend Grey, that you’re the strongest man in the world?
Grey[laughing]: Who told you that?
Peter:Edward did.
Edward[also laughing]: I told him about your one-hand clean and jerk of 300 lbs. the other day.
Grey:I’d prefer that story didn’t become too well known. It indicates a neglect of my pastoral duties. People will think I’ve spent my entire life lifting weights.
Margaret:I doubt that anyone would accuse you of neglecting your pastoral duties or any other duty, Rev. Grey. We are not as ignorant of English affairs as the English are of Kenyan affairs.
Grey: That’s certainly true, and I hope that changes. What you’re doing here, what happens here, is vital. I hope Britons will come to realize that before it is too late.
William Montgomery: We’ll get through this crisis somehow; we always have in the past.
Ethan:This time it’s different.
Green:How is it different, Ethan?
Ethan: This time the colonial government is against us and so is the government back in London.
William Montgomery:Now you’re beginning to sound like Edward.
Ethan:I agree with him. Our government is going to sell us down the river, a river of white blood.
Margaret:Now we’re getting back to the Mau Maus again, which is really why you gentlemen are here. Why don’t you adjourn to William’s study and I’ll bring the dessert in there?
Grey: Nothing for me, thank you, Mrs. Montgomery, I couldn’t eat another bite after that excellent meal.
William Montgomery: We’ll skip dessert, Martha. Somehow I don’t think cake and pie mixes well with a discussion of the Mau Maus.
[The men, minus Peter, adjourn to the study. William Montgomery takes Ethan and Edward aside before entering the study]
William Montgomery: You both are welcome to sit in, but please keep in mind that I know your opinions on the Mau Maus already. I want to hear those other men’s opinions so I can properly represent the farmers’ coalition. All right? No offense taken?
Edward:No offense taken.
Ethan:I understand.
_____________________________
Act I. Scene 2. The study.
Bennet: I don’t really see that there is anything to discuss. None of us are military men any longer; we’re farmers. I say we work closely with the colonial government to help them stamp out the Mau Maus, but I don’t see the need for our own private army.
Belcher:It worked in South Africa for years.
Green:This isn’t South Africa. We have our own set of circumstances.
Belcher:The issues are the same. Are we going to accept black rule?
Williams: Nobody said anything about black rule. I understand that there is going to be a coalition-type government with blacks and whites and that we will still be allowed to own our farms.
Belcher:Do you believe that?
Williams:Of course, I do. What could be gained by confiscating the white farms and the white businesses? The whites are needed here, particularly the white farmers: we own 5% of the land and yet we produce 90% of the food. No, I can’t believe a coalition, government, or even an all black government would take our farms and businesses.
Belcher: I wish I could feel as confident as you do, but it seems, from the conversations I’ve had with Macleod’s people, that we are heading to a coalition government, and then to a black government. And I do not have any hopes in a black government. Should that happen, well, I have friends in South Africa. I’ll probably go there.
Green:I don’t think the powers that be in London or Nairobi would permit black rule in Kenya. They might let a few blacks into the government as a token gesture, but they wouldn’t turn the government over to them; that would be insane. What do you think, Reverend?
Grey:I don’t think you’ll like my opinion. And after all, I’m not a land owner in Kenya.
William Montgomery: I invited you here because I wanted your opinion, Reverend.
Grey: All right, you shall have it. What I’m going to say might sound a little fantastical, but just consider how fantastical our lives here on earth are and then consider what I have to say. I do not believe the Mau Mau rebellion is an aberration. I think Mau Mau is black Africa. The blacks will refrain from murder, rape, and bestiality while the white man is strong, but when the white man falters, when he doubts that he is the Christ-bearer, then what you call Mau Mau and what I call the normal, everyday activities of blacks who no longer feel the need to refrain from their devilish activities, will come to the forefront and make Kenya a living hell.
William Montgomery: Then you’re telling me that the blood red tide of the Mau Mau will be loosed if we cooperate with the government and form a multi-racial government?
Grey: Yes, Mr. Montgomery, that is precisely what I am telling you. There can be no amicable union between the sons of Ham and the Europeans. There can be the benevolent rule of the white man, which is best for black and white – look at Kenya before and after the white man came here – or there can be black rule, which means extermination of the whites and a return to barbaric bestiality for the blacks.
Williams:I don’t agree. A multi-racial government can work so long as we get the right blacks in place.
Bennet:With all due respect for your office, Rev. Grey, I must agree with Mr. Williams.
Belcher[addressing Green]: Do you agree with Williams?
Green:Absolutely, I don’t think the powers that be would permit an all-African government to squeeze out the white farmers.
Belcher: Then you’re a fool; you’re all fools if you think there can be a coalition government of blacks and whites. The Reverend is right: whites must either control blacks or be exterminated by them. I plan to present my own petition to Macleod and company. Quite probably they’ll spit in my face, but at least I’ll feel like I’ve done all that I could.
William Montgomery:I respect you for that, Charles, but I still think we can work out some compromise.
Owen:No, there can’t be a compromise. What you’re proposing is a capitulation.
[Owen, young Montgomery, and Belcher exit]
Grey:I’m sorry this couldn’t have been settled more amicably, gentlemen. I still wish you’d reconsider.
Montgomery:We still have more to discuss, but I think we’ve settled on our main course of action.
Grey: Well, Owen is waiting for me. [Exits]
Williams: You can’t take any of them seriously. They’re biased, and that so-called ‘Reverend’ is the worst of the lot.
Green:What do you mean by “so-called Reverend”?
Williams: I mean that he was defrocked. He really isn’t a Reverend.
Montgomery: That’s not fair, John, he was not defrocked; he was suspended from his parish duties, but he remains an Anglican clergy man.
Williams: But why was he suspended?
Green: I believe it was for expressing opinions about blacks and whites like those he expressed right here tonight.
Montgomery: He’s a good man; I have nothing against him. I just don’t think he fully understands our situation here in Kenya. If we don’t show ourselves willing to compromise, I think we’ll lose everything.
Bennet:And if we do compromise?
Montgomery: Then I think we’ll be allowed to continue living and working in the Highlands.
Green: Amen to that.
Bennet[addressing Williams]: What’s wrong with you; isn’t a multi-racial government what you want as well?
Williams:Yes, certainly, but I think there is something more behind this Reverend Grey character.
Montgomery:How so?
Williams: He’s supposed to be a man in his seventies, isn’t he?
Montgomery:Yes.
Williams: Yet, he looks to be a man in his mid-forties. And by all accounts he still possesses incredible physical strength.
Bennet: What are you driving at, John? There have been some remarkably strong men who retained their strength into their seventies and beyond. It’s unusual, but not unheard of.
Williams:Are you sure of that?
Green:Say what you mean outright.
Williams:I am talking about demonic possession: these High Churchers are all Rosicrucians and Templars.
Montgomery: You are ridiculous, Williams. I’m not a church-going man myself, but I can recognize a good man when I see one. And Reverend Grey is a good man. Just because we disagree on a political stance of his does not mean we have to demonize the man.
Bennet:Williams is a crazy Methodist; what can you do with him?
[Williams charges Bennet, but Montgomery and Green hold him back.]
Montgomery: He was joking.
Williams: Well, I don’t like that type of humor.
Bennet:I’m sorry if I offended you.
Green:Grey’s all right, John, he’s just a little too mystical to be consulted on practical matters.
Montgomery:I’ll present our views on the compromise to Macleod.
_____________________________
Act I. Scene 3. Same night.
[Edward Owen and Reverend Grey are driving back to Owen’s farm. Owen is at the wheel.]
Grey:They’re not bad men, Edward, in fact they’re good men and true. That is the problem: “Their natures are so far from doing harm that they suspect none.”
Owen:They could deal with the Mau Maus in a fair fight, but they can’t deal with a British colonial government and a government in London that hates their own people. Belcher is the only one who knows what is going to happen. They’re all going to lose their farms, and some will lose their lives.
Grey:Where will you go from here, Edward? Do you plan on keeping the farm?
Owen: No, I kept it this long to see if we were going to be allowed to stay here in the Highlands. And by ‘stay here’ I mean stay here as white men who took land that was supposed to be impossible to farm and made that land the most prosperous land in the country. You heard what Green said at the meeting: Five percent of the land and 90% of the food supply. What will happen when the government breaks up the white farms and forces us to “co-manage” them with the blacks?
Grey:The blacks will turn on the whites and murder them. Then the farms will become non-productive again, as they were before the whites came.
Owen: Precisely. I’m selling before the government orders me to work with the Mau Maus.
Grey: What will you do?
Owen[grimly]: I’ll stay here in the Highlands.
Grey: You’re still a young man, Edward. What are you – 22 years old?
Owen: I’m 23; I’ll be 24 in a few months.
Grey: I’m not going to preach to you, Edward. In fact I think what you’re planning to do is noble. But I’d hate to see you simply rush into martyrdom. Sometimes the duller, plodding, everyday martyrdom is what is needed.
Owen:I’m not going to rush into martyrdom, but I’m not a farmer any longer. Before the Mau Maus wiped out my family, I never thought of myself as anything but a farmer. Now I see myself as something else. I’m not going to let my family go unavenged.
You’ve never preached non-violence to me, Reverend, and I appreciate that. And I’ll never be able to thank you enough for coming here in response to my letter. I never dreamed you’d actually come to Kenya. I thought, considering your views on the subject, that you’d send me a letter to help me persuade the compromising dunderheads like Williams that they can’t trust their government, but you came here in person and did all you could to turn them away from their suicidal surrender.
Grey: I’m afraid I wasn’t very persuasive.
Owen:It wasn’t for lack of trying or a lack of eloquence. They just don’t want to believe you or me. But something else has been bothering me. I should have told you that I was not a Christian when I wrote. And then when you came here, I still couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I guess it’s because I was afraid you’d leave, and I wanted you to stay. But there it is: I’m telling you now. I have no stomach for any of the ‘God is love’ rot. I loved my family; now they’re all gone, tortured and murdered by the Mau Maus. All I care about is killing Mau Maus.
Grey: Then kill Mau Maus, Edward, kill as many as you can.
Owen[visibly startled]: I didn’t anticipate that from you.
Grey:Why?
Owens: Because you’re a Christian pastor.
Grey:Maybe I’m a rather poor one then, because I don’t see anything intrinsically wrong with killing members of a tribe of men dedicated to torture, murder, rape, and bestiality. What I hate to see is a waste of life. You’re the last of your line; are you sure you couldn’t resettle somewhere else and continue what your father and mother started here in Kenya?
Owen:You mean cut and run?
Grey:No, I mean what I said. Continue the work your parents started.
Owen:If you were in my place, would you go and start a farm somewhere else and let your parents, your brothers, and your sisters lie in their graves unavenged?
Grey [after a long pause]: No, I would not. I’d do what you are planning to do.
Owen:Thank you.
Grey:For what?
Owen: For not lying to me.
Grey:What’s that?
[Owen pulls the small truck off the road as a small band of Mau Maus, about fifteen in number, fresh from a torture and murder raid on a white farm, stand athwart the road, firing at the truck with their assault rifles. Owen grabs two assault rifles, handing one to the Rev. Grey, and then both men head for cover in the ditch beside the road. The Mau Maus, expecting a quick kill, are surprised by the sustained fire from the ditch. Without any cover, they are standing in the middle of the road; they are all killed by the sustained fire of Owen and Grey. When the firing ceases, Owen and Grey leave the ditch and examine the bodies of the Mau Maus]
Owen: You see that?
Grey:The scarf?
Owen:Yes, that is the type of scarf Jenny Williams wore. [He breaks down in tears] As God is my witness, I don’t take any satisfaction in this. He was the loudest against us, but I didn’t want this.
Grey: [patting Owen’s shoulder with his hand] I know you didn’t, son.
Owen:And I don’t take any pleasure in this either [pointing to the dead Mau Maus]. I never shot anyone before. What should we do now?
Grey: I think we should pull the bodies off the road and burn them. It was self-defense, but we’re liable to be charged with murder if we report this.
Owen:That seems like the best thing to do. I’m sorry to get you involved in this, Reverend.
Grey: You didn’t force me to come here, Edward. I knew what I was coming to.
Owen:How could you know?
Grey: This devil’s work is not new. The blacks belong to Satan. Whenever the white man tries to impose white culture and white ethics on the black man, Satan rears up in defense of his own.
Owen: Is it possible to believe in the devil without believing in the Christian God?
Grey:Some men claim it’s possible, but I don’t think it is.
Owen:I do think it’s possible.
Grey[laying his hand on Owen’s shoulder again]: Stay true to your house and your people, Edward. That will do more for your faith than any sermon I can preach.
Owen:The fire has done its work.
Grey: Let’s leave.
_________________________________________
Act II. Scene 1. 2 months later. Offices of the Kenyan colonial government, Nairobi.
Macleod:Ruth! Ruth! Where is that damned woman. Ruth!
Ruth:Yes, sir?
Macleod:Where have you been? I need those papers on the Kimaru release. Have you typed them up yet?
Ruth:They’re ready, sir, all you need to do is sign them.
Macleod:Good. Leave them on my desk.
Bureaucratic Sycophant #1: Won’t the whites give you some trouble when you release Kimaru from prison? After all, Governor Ranison once called him “the African leader to darkness and death.”
Macleod:I’m well aware of Ranison’s comments; they were ill-timed. This is what London wants, MacMillan wants it, and the British press want it very badly.
Ruth:The whites are afraid that the Mau Maus will become worse if Kimaru becomes the head of Kenya.
Macleod:Possibly, but then maybe Kimaru will help put down the Mau Maus. But what the whites want is unimportant. They have no choice; they must work with the blacks if they want to stay in Kenya. And Kimaru is going to be in charge of Kenya.
Bureaucratic Sycophant #2 [addressing BS #1]: He’s already released Bunda and Kuanda, why shouldn’t he release Kimaru?
B.S. #1: I’m not saying anything one way or the other. I just think the Kimaru release is going to ruffle some white feathers.
Macleod:I don’t care about white feathers. I care about Macmillan and the British press. The whites are supposed to share power with the blacks, and anyone who doesn’t like that can sell his farm or his business and leave Kenya.
Ruth:I think a lot of whites will leave rather than become bond slaves to the blacks.
Macleod:We’re not talking about bond slaves, we’re talking about sharing – is that too hard for you to understand?
Ruth[under her breath]: Sharing with blacks means slavery for the whites.
Macleod: What was that?
Ruth:Nothing.
Macleod: Look, this thing will work if the whites cooperate.
Ruth:Sir Charles Belcher is here again. It’s the 14th day in a row. What should I tell him?
Macleod:Tell him that I’m still too busy to see him.
BS #1: Maybe now that the Kimaru deal is set, you should see him. It might help relations with the farmers in the Highlands. You can appear sympathetic to their plight.
Macleod:All right, send him in.
_____________________________
Act II. Scene 2.
Macleod:Sir Charles, I had no idea you were waiting so many days to see me. There must have been some secretarial mix-up.
Sir Charles Belcher: Undoubtedly.
Macleod: But now that you’re here, please let me know what I can do for you.
Belcher: I’ve come here to try and stop a process, which might already be nearing completion, that I believe will be ruinous for the whites in Kenya. It will also be ruinous for the blacks in Kenya, but they are not my main concern.
Macleod:What is this dangerous process?
Belcher: The process by which the whites are forced to turn over their farms to the blacks.
Macleod:Sir Charles, no one said anything about confiscating white farms and handing them over to the blacks. It would be unrealistic to expect the blacks to run the farms. What we want to see is whites helping blacks to become self-sufficient.
Belcher: First off, blacks are incapable of being self-sufficient. And secondly, you have no right to make white farmers slave away for blacks while the blacks, through their Mau Mau brethren, try to slaughter the whites.
Macleod:Sir Charles, I really must…
Belcher: Let me finish and then you can be done with me. The Kenyan Highlands are a miracle of British heart and British ingenuity. The liberals claim the whites have exploited the black Kenyans, but the facts tell us something different.
If you look at the soil, temperature, and rainfall of the Highlands you would say that the entire area was unfit for farming. But starting from scratch, over approximately the last seventy years, British farmers, who own only five percent of the land – and not the best land either – have produced nine times as much per square mile as the African farmers have produced on their land. And what little success the African farmers have had has been due to white support. Yet you want to turn the Highlands over to the blacks. For what purpose? To please the college professors in London and New York? Don’t do this thing. For the love of God, for the love of Britain, don’t do it.
Macleod:Sir Charles, I always am glad to hear from you, and I respect your opinion, although I disagree with you, but you must realize that the process, as you call it, is already completed. Cooperation is a fact of existence in Kenya.
Belcher:Next you’ll be telling me that Kimaru is going to be governor of Kenya.
Macleod:Well – and this won’t be announced officially for a couple of days – he is going to become a kind of co-governor of Kenya in preparation for making him the first black governor somewhere down the line. All the white officials at every level are going to be eased out that way.
[Belcher walks out, too stunned to say a word.]
_____________________________
Act II. Scene 3. Next Day.
Macleod: Are you sure the house is ready?
Ruth:I’ve been there myself. It’s fit for a king.
Macleod:Good. How about the reporters? Have they been informed?
Ruth:Yes. And Cardinal Lejeune will be there, along with the Anglican Bishop and several of the ministers from the reformed churches.
Macleod:Any word of protestors?
Ruth:No, but there is a Reverend Grey here to see you.
Macleod:That man! He’s killing me with those “Kenyan reports” he’s sending to the London papers. Fortunately they’re all against him except for The Guardian.
Ruth:He’s not here to protest the Kimaru release, he’s here to talk about the John Williams’ case.
Macleod:Williams is the nut who went around shooting people.
Ruth:He claims they were Mau Maus he shot.
Macleod: Why must you always defend my enemies?
Ruth:I didn’t know you considered every white in Kenya your enemy.
Macleod:They threw 30 silver coins at me when I passed through the Highlands. I’ll teach them to respect me.
Ruth:I’ll tell the Reverend you won’t see him.
Macleod:On the contrary, send him in. I have something to say to him. [Rev. Grey enters]
Rev. Grey:Thank you for seeing me.
Macleod:I know why you’re here, Rev. You want me to pardon John Williams. But before you do something you’ll regret, let me read you parts of a letter sent to the Nairobi Times. I’ll read you the part pertaining to the Reverend Grey: “What is this man doing in Kenya? I’m told he’s as old as Methuselah and as strong as Hercules. Can such things be? There is something terribly wrong here. Sent from God, to help us? I think he was sent by some other power, to destroy us not help us. We must cooperate with the plans for a new multi-racial…” The letter goes on for another page – it must have been a slow news day – but there’s no more about you. The man who wrote that letter was John Williams. Do you still want him pardoned?
Grey:Yes. The man came back from a meeting, a meeting in which he spoke out for the inter-racial cooperation that you recommend. When he returned home, he found his wife, his two daughters, and his three sons had been tortured, raped, and murdered by the Mau Maus. From that moment on, he set his heart on one thing: killing Mau Maus. He didn’t just go out and shoot the first negroes he saw. He found out where the Mau Maus were, and he killed as many as he could. And he’d still be out there, doing what your troops should be doing, if the British army had not arrested him.
Macleod: We can’t have people taking the law into their own hands.
Grey:If the law won’t help white Christians defend themselves against black heathens, then it is not the law. It is a satanic monstrosity that must be fought with all our heart, mind, and soul.
Macleod: If you keep on in that vein, Reverend, I’ll have you locked up.
Grey:Do it.
Macleod: No, I won’t give you the satisfaction of martyrdom.
Grey: But you still plan on executing Williams?
Macleod:Yes, I do. He’ll be executed on the same day that Kimaru gets out of prison. Both actions will show we’re serious about white and black collaboration.
Grey:Some whites don’t see it that way. The ones who threw you the thirty pieces of silver, for instance.
Macleod:I can’t be concerned about a few lunatics. I’m doing what Macmillan wants, I’m doing what the UN wants, and I’m doing what the Christian church men want. You should be on my side.
Grey:You’re doing what the church men want, but not what the Christian Europeans want.
Macleod:I don’t think we have anything else to talk about, Rev. Grey.
Grey: May I see John Williams?
Macleod[after some hesitation]: Yes, I’ll get you a pass.
_____________________________
Act II. Scene 4. John Williams’ jail cell.
Williams: It’s kind of you to see me, Reverend, considering what I’ve said about you.
Grey:That’s past, John, no need to dwell on it. Let me read from the Gospel.
Williams:I’d like that, but not yet. I do need to dwell on what I said about you. You see, I convinced myself that you were some kind of demon priest because I wanted you to be wrong about the compromise. I was a farmer, not a soldier, and I just wanted to continue farming in the British Highlands and taking care of my family through that farming. You and Owen upset me with your talk about the Mau Maus not listening to reason. That has always frightened me, the idea that there are people so intent on evil that they cannot be deterred by reason. What I’m stumbling all over myself to say is this: I was wrong, wrong to accuse you of demonism and wrong not to support you at the meeting. When I saw my wife and children after the Mau Maus got through with them, I saw just how wrong, how sinful my cowardly evasion of the truth was.
[At this point, John Williams breaks down and sobs uncontrollably.]
Grey:John, you didn’t cause your family’s death. Whether you were for or against a compromise with the Mau Maus you would have been at the meeting.
Williams:No, it won’t work, Reverend. I thank you for trying. But I could have put my sons and my farm hands on the alert before I came to the meeting. I can honestly say I’m not afraid to die, except for the fact that I’ll have to face my family after what I did to them.
Grey:No, John, they’ll be no reproaches on their faces. There will be joy, the joy of seeing their father and husband, and the joy of knowing you’ll be with them and Him for all eternity.
Williams: Do you know that to be true, Reverend?
Grey: Yes, I do. I’ll stay right here with you tonight, and in the morning I’ll walk with you to the gallows. Through it all look at me and say those blessed words from the Gospel with me right to the end: “I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.”
[John was executed at 8 a.m. the next morning. If ever a man was at peace with death, it was John Williams. One look of gratitude toward me, one quick smile of contentment, and it was over.]
_____________________________________________
Act III. Scene 1. 1960. Vatican City, the Papal Chambers.
Messenger: Monsignor Bontini is outside.
Pope John:Send him in. [Bontini enters] Monsignor Bontini, I’m so glad to see you. You’ve done such excellent work to put all in readiness for the ecumenical mass with Kimaru. I’m looking forward to it. The Church has been much too negligent in the past. We did not reach out to our black brothers.
Bontini:It’s the Kimaru mass that I want to talk about.
Pope John[visibly upset]: Something hasn’t gone wrong? I want so much to concelebrate with Kimaru.
Bontini:Nothing has gone wrong with the details, everything is ready, Holy Father.
Pope John: That is a relief [smiling]. Why do you try to upset me?
Bontini: There is not a problem with the details of the mass or with Kimaru’s people, but there is a problem: it’s my problem, it’s something in my soul.
Pope John: Tell me about it, my son.
Bontini:It’s a dream I had, Holy Father. Now, I know we are supposed to disregard such things—dreams are so disjointed and illogical – but I cannot shake off the effects of this dream. It haunts me.
Pope John:What was the dream?
Bontini:It was about Kimaru and the upcoming ecumenical mass.
Pope John:Now I see, the dream has caused you some uneasiness about the Kimaru mass.
Bontini: Yes, Holy Father. If I could talk with you about it maybe I could come to terms with my conscience.
Pope John:By all means, tell me about the dream, my son, and don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll be able to ease your conscience.
Bontini:It’s going to seem silly – most dreams do when you tell them in the light of day – but I never had a dream of such vividness before.
Pope John: Go ahead, my son.
Bontini:It was day, I think the late afternoon, and I was preparing the cathedral for the upcoming Kimaru mass. I was alone, and I was on the altar facing the Eucharist. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, quite startled, and saw a hooded figure with no face. He might have had a face – the hood covered something that was shaped like a human head, but there were no discernible features of a face inside the hood – no eyes, nose, or mouth.
The figure raised his hand: for some reason, I thought of the figure as a ‘he’ even though I could not see his face. He pointed to a side door leading out of the cathedral and made it clear I was supposed to follow him out the door. I did as he wished.
Once we exited by the side door, we were faced with an unbelievable horror. There was a vast field covered with what seemed an infinitude of mutilated bodies of men, women, and children of both sexes. All the bodies were white. Some just lay there, seemingly dead. Others were walking or crawling around, screaming in agony, often carrying their severed heads or a limb, as they moved about, screaming. And in the midst of the multitudinous sea of agonized white people was a giant negro with normal size black servants. The giant negro was Kimaru, and he was in the process of hacking white people to pieces. I could see that those white people were new arrivals, because they formed a long line behind Kimaru. They were just waiting to be slaughtered. And I heard a voice near me saying, “In so much as ye have done it unto the least of these, my brethren, you have done it unto me.” I turned to look at the hooded figure and for a split second I thought I saw the face of Jesus Christ within the hood, but then the face vanished and the hood once again had just the face of darkness.
Then I saw Kimaru grow to even greater proportions. He stopped hacking the white people in pieces and started gobbling them up whole. After each gulp, he smacked his lips and smiled at me. Finally he spoke. “I am your child, Bontini, are you proud of me?” And then he laughed again. “Look there,” he pointed to a large hill overlooking the slaughter, a hill which had not been there before. On the hill was Satan in a golden chariot. He had on all the papal vestments and held the mitre. Riding down the hill into the carnage of the open field, he blessed Kimaru and called him “My son.” And then suddenly I was no longer in that terrible field of carnage, I was back in the Cathedral, and Kimaru was there, a normal-sized Kimaru, and he was receiving your blessing, but when I looked at your face, it was no longer your face: it was Satan’s. And Kimaru started laughing and pointing at me as if he and I shared in some great devilish work. And lightning struck the Cathedral, and I saw the earth open up under my feet as I, the assembled clergy, Kimaru and his followers, and you, Holy Father, went tumbling down into hell.
In the last part of the dream, I was in a desert so hot that my skin was burning up and falling off in layers onto the dry desert sand. I thought, “A man only has so much skin, so I will be a skeleton soon, and my bones will rot here.” But then a little child came to me and started cooling and healing my body with some kind of miraculous salve. When he had finished restoring my body, He became a man, and I knew the man: He was Christ. “Take care of my people, Francesco Bontini, take care of my people. Do not suffer that man to kill my people while invoking my name. Do you understand me, Francesco Bontini?”
I answered him, “Yes, Lord, I understand.”
Then I was back in the Cathedral moving chairs and setting up the microphone, and when I awoke, my bed was soaked with sweat and blood, and I had open, bleeding sores in my hands and on the side of my body where the centurion’s spear had pierced our Lord’s body. Naturally, I went to the doctor, who said my wounds were not deep, so he put some disinfectant on them and some bandages and sent me on my way. But the wounds are deep, Holy Father, they have penetrated into my soul. Please help me to know what I should do.
Pope John:That certainly was a vivid dream, and I can understand how it could upset a man like you, a sensitive man, so much that he could self-induce the wounds of Christ upon his own body.
Bontini: But…
Pope John:Let me finish, my son.
Bontini:I’m sorry.
Pope John:You must remember that this was a dream. I repeat: it was a dream. No matter how vivid, no matter how real it seemed, it was a dream. And dreams of that kind seldom come from God, they come from our own psyche. That is what the psychiatrists tell us, and I think they know whereof they speak. You obviously have been speaking to someone who was defaming Kimaru and exaggerating the evils of the Mau Maus. You absorbed that information into your subconscious, and it came out in that vivid dream. Now, think back; did you come into contact with a racist, an individual who simply wanted to defame Kimaru and exaggerate the Mau Mau excesses simply because he hated blacks?
Bontini:Possibly. I did have lunch with that Anglican priest, Christopher Grey. He asked for a meeting with me, because he heard I was in charge of the Kimaru mass.
Pope John:I knew it. He is not even in good standing in the Anglican community. They are good men; they are our brothers in Christ, but he is an outcast man because of his racism.
Bontini:But I must say, Holy Father, that he impressed me as a very good man and very sincere. He made a case, citing many incidents that he had witnessed, against Kimaru and the Mau Maus. He has been to Kenya and seen such…
Pope John:He is a racist; you can’t trust a word he says. I know that Kimaru is a Christian. Some of his followers have killed, that is true, but you must remember that they killed because they have never known compassion or mercy. The white man has only dealt with them by the use of whips and chains. They are not to be blamed for the few incidents when they shed blood, but are instead to be commended for their great restraint, because in most cases they did not shed blood. If we embrace them, take them to our hearts with loving charity and forgiveness, they will never kill again; in fact, they will show us the rare phenomenon of natural men who are infused with grace. That is a miracle, a miracle which should be celebrated; that is why we are celebrating Kimaru’s journey to Rome. And you have done well in preparing for his visit.
Bontini:Have I done well?
Pope John:I have said it; that should be enough for you.
[Monsignor Bontini exits]
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Act III. Scene 2. The Press Room of the Vatican.
[Members of the press from all the European countries and most of the African countries are present. Kimaru is standing up at the podium with several of his followers seated behind him.]
English reporter:Does this move by the Vatican make you feel less hostile to Christianity?
Kimaru:I have never been hostile to Christianity. I am a Christian. I believe in the teachings of Christ. I follow the line Jesus taught. I think it helps me in many ways.
Italian reporter:How does it help you?
Kimaru:It helps me forgive those who imprisoned me unjustly and it helps me govern Kenya.
English reporter: What about the Mau Maus? It is said that they are still murdering whites.
Kimaru:They are not still murdering whites, because they never did murder whites. When blood was shed, it was shed in self-defense.
Italian reporter:Will you concelebrate with the Pope? Generally a non-Catholic does not concelebrate.
Kimaru:I am a special case: I will concelebrate the mass with Pope John. Black people have been kept away from the inner chambers of the church for much too long. [he raises both hands in the air] Now the time has come for black people to regain their rightful place in the Kingdom of God.
English reporter: Could you mention something about the reforms you’ve instituted in Kenya?
Kimaru:We’ve returned Kenya to the blacks. Previously whites exploited the blacks; they used them as laborers and slaves. Now the blacks rule Kenya, and the whites are our helpers, not our slaves. No white business has been destroyed; no white farm has been confiscated. We have simply put black people in charge of Africa, for the benefit of blacks and whites.
Italian reporter:What made you accept the Holy Father’s offer?
Kimaru:Excuse me, in my nation there is no Holy Father; we call a man by his name. The man called John wanted to recognize my mission before the world so he invited me here. I accepted.
Italian reporter:Is that what happened, your Reverence?
Pope John[stepping up to the podium]: Yes, that is what happened. I have followed Kimaru’s career and have admired his work on behalf of his people and his efforts to bring peace and cooperation between whites and blacks in Kenya. I think Kenya can be a model for the rest of Africa and even for the rest of the world. The black race is the most Christ-like race of people; they have borne their suffering nobly and have much to show the rest of the world.
American reporter: Your Holiness, there are reports of terrible things, of torture, murder, and rape, atrocities directed against your people, against nuns and priests. What do you say about that?
Pope John:I say what I have said before. There have been atrocities on both sides of this terrible racial divide, but the great majority of atrocities have been committed by the white race against the black race. It behooves us, the Catholic people, and especially the Pontiff of Rome, to reach out to the blacks in loving charity and forgiveness and tell them how deeply sorry I am for what we, as Christians, have made them do. That is my answer to the so-called atrocities of the Mau Mau and other black tribes.
Papal Representative: Gentlemen, they’ll be time for more questions after the mass when we all have dinner together. Right now, we must prepare for the mass.
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Act III. Scene 3. A small restaurant in Rome on a side street near, but not too near, the Vatican City.
[Monsignor Bontini, Rev. Christopher Grey, and Edward Owen occupy a corner table in the restaurant. Bontini has spoken with Rev. Grey before, but this is his first meeting with Edward Owen. We join them at the beginning of their dinner after the introductions are over.]
Bontini:I hope you don’t think my joining you for dinner means I agree with your views on Kimaru.
Owen:I don’t know what Rev. Grey told you, but my views on Kimaru are quite simple: I think he should be killed. And if it takes him a long time to die, that is all to the good.
Bontini: The Rev. Grey told me of your family, Mr. Owen, and I sympathize with you. But surely you cannot mean what you say. Vengeance is always wrong, but blind vengeance, where you merely strike out blindly against men whom you do not even know are guilty, is the worst type of vengeance.
Owen:Save your sermons for your parishioners, Monsignor. I’ll do what I must do.
Rev. Grey:I don’t think Edward is wrong, Monsignor. But I’m curious as to why you requested this meeting. You seemed to be adamantly opposed to my views on Kimaru when we talked last week.
Bontini:I’m still opposed to your opinions, but I can’t help but have a certain affinity for your… well, for want of a better word, for your passion. You love your people; I can see and admire that. And I asked you to bring Mr. Owen along so I could hear more from the other side and maybe convince Mr. Owen and you that our side is in the right on this issue of Kimaru and the Mau Maus.
[Owen gets up to leave.]
Bontini:Please stay; I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.
Owen:You haven’t offended me. It’s just that I’ve heard all the pro-Mau Mau propaganda I can stand. There’s no point in listening to more.
Bontini:If you stay I promise you’ll hear no more propaganda from me. I’d like to listen to you and Rev. Grey.
Owen:All right. [he sits down again]
Rev. Grey:It’s as I told you last week, Monsignor. This issue of Kimaru and the Mau Maus cuts right to the heart of existence. Is Christ the living God and did He become incarnate in the culture of the European people? Despite all their sectarian differences, despite the wars, an infinitude of all the human fragilities, did Christ come and abide with the European people?
Bontini: Yes, he did.
Grey:Was He incarnate in any other people?
Bontini:No, He wasn’t, but surely you’re not suggesting that God only came to save white men?
Grey:No, I am not. I am saying that the Europeans are the Christ-bearers, that the way to Christ is through the hearth fires of the European people. If you destroy those hearth fires and the people who dwell there, you will have effectually cut off mankind from the living God. Can we know God by abiding with the Asians? With the Indians? And certainly not with the blacks. Kimaru attacks the whites because he is fueled by a satanic hatred that he doesn’t even understand. But his life is like it so he follows his vision of hatred and destruction – hatred for the white race and the destruction of every last vestige of Christian European culture.
Bontini: While I sit here with you and listen to you speak of Kimaru, I feel one with you. I want to strike out against him and his Mau Mau followers; I certainly don’t want to celebrate Mass with them. But that feeling is only here and now, and when I leave you, I hear other voices and I’m subject to other influences.
Owen:You said that you didn’t approve of blind vengeance, Monsignor. My vengeance is not blind, it is directed at the Mau Maus and most particularly at Kimaru and my family’s black servant who now serves Kimaru as a manservant and chef. He not only participated in the mass murder of my parents and my brothers, but also held down my baby sister while his fellow Mau Maus raped her. Then when they had finished with her, he plucked her eyes out of their sockets and ate them. He bragged about it later. What would you do to such a creature?
Bontini: I’d kill him, but would I be right in doing so? [he looks at the Rev. Grey]
Grey: Yes, it would be and it is right to kill such creatures. The “charity of honor” that Burke spoke about demands that we do so.
Bontini:Those policemen are coming toward our table. Believe me, Rev. Grey, I said nothing to anyone.
Grey[placing his hand on Bontini’s shoulder]: I believe you, Monsignor.
1st Officer: Rev. Christopher Grey?
Grey:Yes.
1st Officer:You are under arrest as an undesirable alien. You will be put on a plane and deported to England immediately.
2nd Officer:Edward Owen?
Owen: Yes.
2nd Officer:You will also be sent to England with Rev. Grey.
Owen: On what charge? [He rises and appears to be ready to strike the second officer. A third officer attempts to hit Owen with his club. Rev. Grey leaps to his feet and grabs the third officer’s arm, forcing him to drop the club.]
1st Officer:That’s enough of that, Rev. Grey. [turning to the third officer] Leave off; they’ll come peacefully.
Bontini:By your leave, officers, I’d like to accompany these men to the plane.
1st Officer: I’ve no objection to that, but we must leave now.
Bontini:Please, no handcuffs.
1st Officer:All right.
[exit the officers, Rev. Grey, Bontini, and Owen]
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Act III. Scene 4. Rome Airport waiting room.
[Bontini, Grey, Owen, and three police officers.]
1st Officer[addressing Monsignor Bontini, who obviously has more influence than Rev. Grey or Edward Owen]: You understand, Monsignor, that I just follow my orders; I have nothing personal against you or your friends.
Bontini:I understand that, officer, and I appreciate you’re not treating them as criminals. You know how the political winds shift. At another time, they might be welcome guests in our country.
1st Officer:You’re right, that’s why I don’t like these assignments. Somebody obviously does not want your friends around, somebody with political muscle, but I wish whoever it is would not use the police force to settle their quarrels with political opponents.
Bontini: You could do me one more favor, officer. If I could speak privately for just a few moments with my friends, I would greatly appreciate it. We could sit right over there where you can still see us.
1st Officer[glancing across the room at the vacant chairs]: All right, go ahead. [Bontini, Owen, and Grey go across the room and sit down.]
Bontini: I feel responsible for this.
Grey:We don’t blame you, Monsignor.
Owen:Of course not.
Bontini:But you see I am somewhat responsible because I did tell Pope John that I had been speaking to you [glancing at Grey] when he was trying to find out why I had misgivings about my part in the preparations for the Kimaru mass. I know he is the one behind your deportation. In his mind, he is protecting me from evil influences.
Grey: So you actually did have some misgivings about the Kimaru mass?
Bontini:I didn’t think I did, but I had this dream – it was terrible but also moving. The Holy Father dismissed the dream, but still it has filled me with doubts. And meeting your friend here and talking to you again has only increased my doubts.
Grey: Neither Edward nor I think we have it in our power to stop the Mau Maus without other men joining us, but with or without help from anyone else we both are committed to do what we can to fight them, because we believe they are from Satan. There is nothing more I can say to you. We’ve given you our witness, and you’ve heard and seen Kimaru. You decide.
Bontini:I pray that I do what is right. Will you pray for me?
[The Rev. Grey goes to his knees.]
Grey: Lord, abide with your servant Francesco Bontini and help him at the moment of truth to decide to fight for your reign of charity. In Christ’s name, Amen.
[Both Grey and Owen walk from the waiting room and board the plane.]
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Act III. Scene 5. Rome, the Cathedral.
[The Kimaru Mass is in progress. Kimaru and the Pope are concelebrating with many cardinals and dignitaries in attendance. Kimaru is dressed in his African tribal robes. Sitting in the front row are five of Kimaru’s wives, four black and one white. The four black wives are topless, and the white wife is in an African-styled gown. Monsignor is seated four or five rows back. He has made all the arrangements for the mass, so he now has nothing more to do than to sit back and watch the results of all his handiwork. The Pope has done the readings, and then he allows Kimaru to give the homily.]
Kimaru:This is a great moment for Africa, and it is a great moment for the people of Italy and all of Europe. I am Mau Mau, and Mau Mau is Africa. It is not just a political movement, it is a religious revival. Once, the black man ruled Africa and Europe too. Then came the great deceivers, the white men, and they destroyed the great black kingdoms by treachery. Now I, Kimaru, and my fellow Mau Maus will restore the Kingdom of Africa. There shall be no more white deceivers on the earth. The great Jesus Christ once tried to eliminate all the black people from the face of the earth. But he failed, and now it falls to me, the black Messiah who is greater than Christ, to bring the Kingdom of Mau Mau to completion. Never shall we, the black nations, again submit to white rule. The reign of Mau Mau is here.
[The mass proceeds. After the Pope completes the consecration, he first kneels before the Eucharist and then turns and kneels before Kimaru. This is too much for Bontini, who rushes toward the altar.]
Bontini:Stop this blasphemy, this must not go on! [He reaches the altar, leaps on Kimaru, knocking him down, and starts to strangle him. The Italian police pull Bontini off Kimaru and take him out of the Cathedral. The Pope steps up to the podium.]
Pope John:Please be seated; Monsignor Bontini has been suffering from a troubling illness. Let us go on with the mass.
[The mass proceeds although half of those in attendance have left.]
Pope John[as the mass ends]: The mass is over, go in peace to love and serve the Lord and make a vow to love and serve your black brethren, whom our brother in Christ, Kimaru, has represented so wonderfully here today.
Kimaru:Mau Mau now and forever, amen.
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Act IV. Scene 1. London, Christopher Grey’s home.
[Rev. Grey has a visitor, one Inspector Chambers from Scotland Yard.]
Grey:Edward Owen resides in Kenya now; I haven’t seen him since he left Britain some six months ago.
Chambers:I know that. I didn’t come here to question you about Edward Owen. There was some interest in Mr. Owen after Kimaru’s manservant was found murdered in his apartment right here in London about eight months ago. The manservant had been a butler in the Owen household when the Mau Mau butchered his family. Owen accused the man of participating in the massacre, so it was only normal police procedure to check out Edward Owen.
Grey:How did he check out, as you call it?
Chambers:There was no compelling evidence against him. At least no compelling evidence that was brought forward.
Grey:I’m not certain I follow you.
Chambers:I’m not playing cat and mouse with you, Reverend, although it might appear that way. I know for a fact that Edward Owen killed that loathsome creature, but I’m the only man outside yourself and Edward Owen that does know it. I can see you suspect a trick, and I understand that. But I’m a man first, and a police inspector second. I would have done what your friend did if I was in his place. He did what was right, and I wasn’t about to turn him in for it.
Grey:I’m afraid I can’t comment one way or the other on your rather surprising information, Inspector Chambers.
Chambers: I don’t want you to, but I’m going to lay all my cards on the table about this whole Mau Mau business, and you can believe me or not believe me after I’m finished. I’ll think you’ll believe me when I tell it all.
Grey:By all means, Inspector, tell your story.
Chambers: You’ll remember it was about eight months ago when Kimaru was visiting England. He met with the Prime Minister, he met with the Queen, and he met with the Archbishop of Canterbury. You name them, and he met them. And we, Scotland Yard, were charged with providing him security, because we were told he was a Mau Mau and there were those in the country who didn’t hold with the Mau Maus. I didn’t know a thing about the Mau Maus at the time. I had heard some things, good and bad, but hearing something is not the same as knowing something. So I had no definite opinions about Kimaru and the Mau Maus before I was put in charge of their safety while they were in England.
Once I got to know Kimaru, I didn’t like him, but I still couldn’t believe some of the things his detractors said. How could they have let him out of jail if he did half the things they said he did? But I kept telling myself I was a police officer; my personal opinion of Kimaru didn’t matter. But he was a handful. He took offence at just about everything. If you walked in front of him, that was an offense to his dignity. If you didn’t address him as ‘His Highness’ that was an affront to him and his people. Yet he never stopped insulting everything white, English, and Christian. I needed all my self-control to keep from punching that fat, bloated monstrosity. And his wives – they all acted like Scotland Yard existed solely to cater to their whims.
Well, he made the rounds and was courted and petted by the English press and the English royalty until his main toady, Mugo, the man who used to work for your friend’s family back in Kenya, was found murdered. It was a clean job; he was knifed through the heart in his hotel room. Whoever got to him had climbed up to the window from ten stories down. Of course I now know that it wasn’t somebody, it was Edward Owen.
I had been briefed on Owen before the murder. He, along with you, was listed as a person we should keep away from Kimaru. In terms of physical violence we were more worried about Owen. You had that column you wrote for the Guardian; it didn’t seem likely that you’d try to kill Kimaru after excoriating him in print. Of course, I was wrong, but I’ll come to that later.
Owen wasn’t seen anywhere near the hotel where Mugo was murdered, but he also couldn’t provide me with an alibi. But still, the fact that he was known to have hated Mugo was not enough to arrest him. We had him in the station for over four hours of questioning before we released him with instructions not to leave London until we told him he could leave. I was certain we’d have enough evidence to arrest him within the week.
The next day I was called into the commissioner’s office. He said, “I got a call from Kimaru. He says he has some evidence regarding Mugo’s murder that he’d like you to see.”
“All right, I’ll go out there and see what he’s got for me.”
Kimaru, when he wasn’t in London, was living in a big country estate about ten miles west of London. I had no idea what the evidence might be, but it was my case, so I headed for his estate as soon as I left the commissioner’s office. I don’t need to tell you what a fuss the papers were making about the poor innocent negro who came here on a peaceful diplomatic trip with Kimaru and was then brutally murdered. I wanted to clear the case up quickly, but I also didn’t want to be railroaded into making an arrest before I had enough evidence.
Kimaru was scheduled to go back to Kenya in a few weeks, but he had certainly fixed up the place as if he planned on staying there forever. Inside it looked like a pleasure palace of one of those Arab potentates. He was surrounded by a large circle of scantily clad women and numerous black toadies, all of which I had come to expect when dealing with Kimaru. He cleared the room and bid me sit down.
Kimaru:I have incontrovertible evidence that Edward Owen murdered my servant Mugo.
Chambers:If you have such evidence, I’d like to see it.
Kimaru[responding to a bell, two of his men wheel in a film projector, and Kimaru dismisses them]: Flip the switch on the lower right corner, and then watch the film, Inspector Chambers.
[What I now saw was Edward Owen climbing in a window – you couldn’t tell it was Owen until he turned on the light – and confronting Mugo. The film also recorded their speech.]
Owen:I’ve come to send you to hell, Mugo.
Mugo: You won’t touch me, white filth. You haven’t the courage. You’re too afraid of Mau Mau to do anything against its power.
[Owen simply walked up to him, knocked him down, and plunged a knife through his heart. Then he left by the window he had come in by. It took less than five minutes. When the film was over, Kimaru turned the lights on and addressed me.]
Kimaru:Will justice be served, Inspector?
Chambers:With that film as evidence, I think justice will be served.
Kimaru:I think Owen should be handed over to me for Mau Mau justice, but I don’t suppose you will do that.
Chambers:No, we won’t. He’ll be tried in a British court.
Kimaru:Will he die for his crime?
Chambers:I don’t know; that is not up to me.
Kimaru:I suppose his lawyer will bring up that old story about Mugo’s massacre of the Owen family.
Chambers: Yes, I’m sure that will be brought up.
Kimaru:Do you believe his story?
Chambers:What I believe doesn’t matter.
Kimaru:Oh, but it does matter what you believe, Inspector Chambers. You see, I attended one of your English universities, and I know about your jury system. If the jury feels that Owen was acting out of a justifiable rage over the massacre of his family, they might not exact the death penalty; they might be much too lenient. So I ask you, as a typical Englishman, do you believe what Edward Owen told you about Mugo and Owen’s young sister and the rest of the family?
Chambers:Before I answer that question, let me ask you a question. Why did you film Mugo’s room that night?
Kimaru:Because I was hoping that we could catch Owen in the act of killing Mugo.
Chambers:So you knew that Owen was going to kill Mugo that night?
Kimaru:I didn’t know which night, but I was sure he would try.
Chambers: Did Mugo know that he was being filmed, did he know that he was being set up?
Kimaru: No, of course he didn’t.
Chambers:So you just let him be killed?
Kimaru:Of course, what is one man compared to the cause of Mau Mau? I would sacrifice 10,000 Mugos in order to destroy an enemy of Mau Mau. Owen is an implacable enemy; he needed to be destroyed. Of course most of the damage has already been done. He brought that priest into the picture.
Chambers:You mean the Rev. Grey?
Kimaru:Yes, he has done harm to the Mau Mau cause, but not much. Only a few of your English commoners believe what he says. Your politicians, your clergy, and your professors all support Mau Mau.
Chambers:And what is Mau Mau?
Kimaru:It is everything Reverend Grey says it is. Mau Mau is dedicated to the complete destruction of the white race, by torture, murder, and rape.
Chambers:Why?
Kimaru:Because we worship Satan and hate Christ. You British should pay more attention to history. Before the white man came to Africa there was Mau Mau, and now that the white men are being driven out of Africa, the Mau Mau will resurface. And not just in Africa, we will occupy all of Europe, your professors and politicians will invite us in, and then…
Chambers:You’ll torture, murder, and rape.
Kimaru:Yes, Englishman, I think you’re beginning to understand. But I understand you as well, Englishman. I know you won’t lie to me. Will you submit this film as evidence against Edward Owen, knowing that Mugo was indeed the key conspirator in the torture, murder, and rape of Owen’s family?
Chambers:No, I will not submit that film as evidence. I’ll take that film and destroy it.
Kimaru:I knew you wouldn’t lie. You have the mark on you. You’re what they call a true bred Englishman. But you know this means that you must die.
Chambers:Yes.
Kimaru:Unfortunately I can’t have my people do the usual mutilations, because your body must be found, and it must appear you were killed by Edward Owen. But I still think we can find some other way to make your death as painful as possible without leaving any marks. You can see why I asked you to leave your revolver at the door.
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Act IV. Scene 2. Still in Rev. Grey’s home.
Chambers:You know what happened after that, Reverend. He had his henchmen take me downstairs to his homemade torture chamber. Every Mau Mau should have one. He told me grisly stories of what he had done to whites in Kenya and what he was going to do to them when he got back to Kenya. He also told me of the white slavery rings he had started right here in Britain. Then he gave orders to his henchmen to start in on me. But they never started. A masked figure, just like in the Zorro and Bulldog Drummond books, suddenly appeared. He put a bullet through each of the henchmen’s heads and then he walked up to Kimaru and strangled that 400 pound monstrosity, after which he cut me loose and left.
You had no way of knowing about the film, Reverend, or that I had already decided to destroy it, so you didn’t reveal yourself. But let me assure you that I destroyed the film; it perished in the fire, which according to my report and that of the fire commissioner, was started by faulty wiring. It was a shame that Kimaru and two of his colleagues were burned beyond recognition. The rest of his people got out safely. No doubt they’ll return to Kenya and attach themselves to another Mau Mau dictator.
Grey:Yes, the death of Kimaru doesn’t end the Mau Mau uprising. In point of fact, the Mau Mau element we shall always have with us. It can be contained and controlled if whites are strong, but it will always be there, lurking in the subterranean recesses of the black man’s soul, ready to surface whenever white Christians lose faith in their people and their God.
Chambers:You might think I was negligent in not reporting what happened that night, but I knew they wouldn’t believe me. Torture chambers and a mysterious masked man? They’d have locked me up as a murderer and a madman.
Grey:You did what was best. Now, you can still keep an eye out for the Mau Mau movements right here in Britain.
Chambers:We’re in for it, aren’t we?
Grey: I’m afraid so.
Chambers:Something to do with reaping what we’ve sown?
Grey:Yes.
Chambers: Well, I’ll be heading back to my flat.
Grey:Inspector, before you go…
Chambers:Yes?
Grey:It’s possible that you didn’t destroy the film and still mean to use it against Edward Owen, or possibly there never was a film and you want to bluff me into implicating Edward. I don’t believe any of that. I believe everything you told me, but I have no right to violate another man’s confidence, so I’ll not say anything about Edward Owen.
Chambers: I understand.
Grey: But I will say something about that masked figure. Of course it was me. I’m glad I got there in time, and I was proud to stand with a true bred Englishman. If you’ll let me, I’d like to shake your hand.
Chambers[shaking Grey’s hand and then kneeling]: I’d like your blessing, too.
Grey: Everlasting God, which has ordained and constituted the services of all angels and men in a wonderful order: Mercifully grant, that they which always do thee service in heaven, may by thy appointment succor and defend us in earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Act V. Scene 1. September 1963. The Papal chambers, Rome.
Paul VI: Welcome, Monsignor… I mean, welcome, Francesco. [Bontini bows but does not kiss the proffered ring] I hope you do not blame the pontiff of Rome for your troubles.
Bontini: I don’t blame anyone but myself for my troubles. There are some lines from that great English playwright Shakespeare that describe me:
“Had I but serv’d my God with half the zeal I serv’d my King, He would not in mine age Have left me naked to mine enemies.”
In my case, it was the Pope, but the result was the same, and the fault was mine, not for attacking Kimaru – I’m proud of that – but for putting the Pope’s will above God’s will.
Paul VI:You’ve strayed far from the true faith, if you can say such a thing.
Bontini: I’ve spent three years in prison dwelling on this thing we call faith, and I don’t think slavish devotion to an organization that has completely abstracted itself from Christ and His people constitutes “The Faith.”
Paul VI: You’re just bitter against the Church, because of your time in prison.
Bontini: Why would you say that, your Reverence? It was not the church authorities that had me imprisoned, although you could have used your influence to get me out sooner.
Paul VI: I asked you to come here, to welcome you back, and to assure you that the Holy Father loves all of his children, even the wayward ones.
Bontini: But especially the black, wayward children, if “wayward” is what you call torture, rape, and murder. Your predecessor had nothing but “loving forgiveness” for the Mau Maus that tortured, raped, and murdered Catholic priests and nuns. One of those nuns came from my village; she was a second cousin. And I still went ahead with the Kimaru mass. There is blood on my hands and blood on Pope John’s hands as well as on your own, Montini, because you continued your predecessor’s policy of betrayal. To you, a white man is nothing; he is just grist for your satanic mill of negro worship. I don’t know what your ultimate aim is, nor, I think, do you. You are just following the liberal winds of the times. You don’t want to Christianize the blacks; you want to worship them. I saw this at the Kimaru mass, and I see it in your so-called evangelization efforts in Africa. Christ loves us all, but does He hate the white race enough to sanction what you are doing? Is He willing to play second fiddle to your black gods?
Paul VI[infuriated]: I asked you here in loving forgiveness, and this is how you respond. Now we will speak, and our voice is that of the Church. You will cease and desist with your newspaper articles against the Church’s outreach to Africa and the other colored lands.
Bontini: Or else?
Paul VI: Or else we will be forced to excommunicate you.
Bontini: I’ve already been defrocked and I haven’t been to mass in three years, so do your worst.
Paul VI:I can also have you fired from your job on the paper.
Bontini:I suppose you can, but I still say do your worst. I’ve had it with you people. You’re very good haters when it comes to white people, and you have no real warmth for your abstract little black gods. Good day, Montini.
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Act V. Scene II. A road in Kenya.
[A band of Mau Maus, over fifty in number, are on their way to massacre a white family who have been labeled as white oppressors, for their failure to turn all of their profits over to the official Mau Mau-dominated government. As they near the farm of the recalcitrant whites, a hooded figure appears. With his long gray beard and glittering eyes, he looks like Coleridge’s Ancient Mariner or some Hebrew prophet from the days of old. In point of fact, he calls himself Ezekiel.]
Ezekiel:Stop! The wrath of the Lord has come upon you. [He starts firing.]
Mau Mau Leader: It’s that mad prophet. Kill him… [A bullet rips through the Mau Mau’s body and he falls down dead.]
Mau Mau Warriors: Run or he’ll shoot us all down like dogs!
[Ezekiel keeps up a steady stream of fire. The Mau Maus try to run in the opposite direction, but they run right into gunfire from Edward Owen, William Montgomery, and Ethan Montgomery. Caught between Ezekiel’s gunfire and the other men’s gunfire, all the Mau Maus are cut down.]
William Montgomery[looking out over the dead bodies]: It’s a sickening sight, isn’t it, Ethan?
Ethan:Yes, it is, but I’d sooner see dead Mau Maus than you, or Peter, Mother, Susan, or Jennifer lying there.
Owen: He’s right, Mr. Montgomery. It had to be done.
William Montgomery:I know that. It just sickens me that I have to be the one to do it.
Ethan: He’s gone. I’d like to thank him; he warned us the raid was coming. How did he know, Edward?
Owen:I don’t know, but he always seems to know when they’ll strike.
Ethan:Even though there were more guns firing at them from our side of the ridge, they still ran away from him and toward us.
Owen: That’s because they’re afraid of him; they don’t believe he’s mortal. They think he’s some sort of ghost, an avenging ghost.
William Montgomery:They’re partly right.
Ethan:What do you mean by that, Father?
William Montgomery: Ezekiel is mortal, but unless I miss my guess, he’s also a ghost of a man. It was about five years ago that he first started appearing at the most opportune moments for whites and the most inopportune moments for the Mau Maus. He seems to have a sixth sense about their movements. He anticipates where they’re going to strike, and then he strikes first.
Owen:Who do you think he is?
William Montgomery:I think he is Thomas Cooper. His family was massacred by the Mau Maus in the same month that John Williams’ family was massacred. He almost never set foot off his farm, but on that particular day he was at a neighbor’s farm to look at a prize bull and some heifers his neighbor was selling. His whole family, his wife, his four daughters, and his three sons, were all murdered.
He wouldn’t let anyone else touch their mutilated bodies. He piled them in a truck and drove off into the jungle. The truck was found a few weeks later, but there was no sign of him or the corpses of his wife and children.
Before John Williams died, he said something to me that I didn’t understand at the time. He said, “Ezekiel still lives.” I now think that Williams teamed up with Cooper after his family was massacred. They caught Williams, but Cooper has kept on fighting, learning more and more about the Mau Mau ways and putting that knowledge to good use.
Ethan:He saved our family.
William Montgomery: Yes, he did, for now. But I think it’s time to get out of Kenya, son. I’ve been talking it over with your mother, and we can’t see any other option. British Kenya is dead. We’ve thought of buying land in South Africa, but we’d soon be facing the same thing there that we faced here.
Ethan:But won’t we be facing the same thing in Britain if somebody doesn’t fight here?
William Montgomery:Yes, we will, but not right away, and I’d like some peace for a change. A farm in Scotland will give me more breathing space than one in South Africa [looking at Edward]. I suppose you think I’m cutting and running.
Owen: Not in the least; you can only do so much. I’d hate to see any member of your family the victim of the Mau Mau.
William Montgomery: What about you, Edward? Why have you stayed so long in Kenya? There’s nothing left for you here.
Owen: What’s left for Ezekiel?
Ethan: The war against the Mau Maus?
Owen: Precisely. I’d like to meet this Ezekiel and see if he really is Thomas Cooper. And whether he is Cooper or someone else, I’d like to join him.
William Montgomery: God bless you, Edward. But my war ends here. Let’s burn their bodies.
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Act V. Scene 3. Christmas Eve Day,1964, London, Rev. Christopher Grey’s house.
[The doorbell rings and Francesco Bontini answers it. William Montgomery is at the door.]
Bontini: Won’t you come in? The Rev. Grey is not in at present, but I expect him back shortly. My name is Francesco Bontini, and I’ve been residing here for the last three months. The Reverend tells people that I’m here to help him with his pastoral duties, but I’m really here because I’m not welcome in Italy. My mother and father, who were so proud of me for becoming a priest, are now ashamed of me for getting myself defrocked. So I’m taking an English sojourn until I can decide where to go and what to do with the remainder of my life.
William Montgomery:I’ve heard about your story from a mutual friend, Edward Owen.
Bontini:Ah, Edward, the man of passion. How is he now? Is he still in Kenya?
Montgomery:Yes, he’s still in Kenya. And I suppose you could say he’s well, at least as well as a man who has chosen Edward’s path can be. But I might as well wait before I say anything more.
Bontini:Why is that?
Montgomery:Because Edward is the reason I’m here. He sent me a letter that he wants me to give to Reverend Grey. He sent it through me in case the Rev. Grey’s mail was being checked.
Bontini: That was a wise precaution. The Reverend has many, many friends, because his life has been a life of charity, but he also has many enemies in the government who would like to see him in prison.
Montgomery:It’s all madness, the Labour Party’s hatred for all things white and British.
Bontini: It is madness. But my own nation is suffering from the same madness. Only in my nation, whose history is so tied up with the Roman Church, the Pope has given religious sanction to the hatred of the white race.
Montgomery:There’s no real difference between our two nations regarding the love of the negro and the hatred of the white race. In England the state church removed Rev. Grey for being a “racist,” and the leaders of the Scottish kirks have recently abandoned the commandments in favor of the one great commandment, “Thou shall not be a racist.” Which of course translates to “thou shalt love the negro with all thy heart, mind, and soul, and thou shalt hate the white man with all thy heart, mind, and soul.”
Bontini: Are you living in Scotland now?
Montgomery:Yes, but I’ve brought the family down to stay a week in London. I’ve got a few hired workers that can take care of the farm until I get back.
Bontini:You and your family will be here for dinner tonight, won’t you?
Montgomery: Yes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. It was kind of Rev. Grey to invite us.
Bontini:You know the Reverend is even busier now than when he was the official pastor at St. John’s. Now he is the unofficial pastor of the entire city of London. So many lost souls are drawn to him, trying to find something, or perhaps I should say someone, to keep them afloat in this terrible modern world we live in. There he is now.
[The Reverend Grey enters the room and walks over and embraces William Montgomery.]
Grey: I know that’s a very un-English welcome, but I’m so very glad to see you.
Montgomery:I wanted to come sooner, but the farm I bought needed a lot of my attention. I haven’t felt confident that I could leave it until now, when there isn’t a whole lot to be done.
Grey:No apologies necessary. You forget I grew up on a farm.
Bontini: Mr. Montgomery has…
Montgomery:Please, I’m not a ‘Mr.’ to my friends.
Bontini: All right then. William has a letter for you from Edward Owen. He sent it through William for reasons of security. [Montgomery hands the letter to Rev. Grey.]
Grey:If you’ll excuse me for a moment, gentlemen, I’ll read the letter. [Grey exits the room.]
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Act V. Scene 4. One-half hour later.
Grey:I’d like to share – I have Edward’s permission – some parts of this letter with you. Let me start about one page in, right before he meets Ezekiel:
“Even though I was sleeping light (I’ve learned to sleep light since the Mau Mau business started), I still didn’t hear him come into my camp. He left me a little map; without it I never would have found his cave, which was covered by underbrush too thick for anyone to see through.
“I was surprised how vast it was inside considering how small the opening and the initial passage to it was. When I got to the larger part of the cave, where I could stand upright, I couldn’t see anything. Before my eyes could become accustomed to the semi-darkness, I heard a stern voice, ‘Stay where you are. The footing is treacherous over there. I’ll come and get you.’ He turned on a large flashlight and came to my side. ‘Come this way.’
“I did as I was told and we soon entered his main living quarters. There was a small stove, one chair, a box of books, a radio, a large supply of water and food stuffs, and a sleeping bag.
“‘Now, Mr. Owen, what do you want from me?’
“‘I’m not here to inform on you; my family was massacred by the Mau Maus too.’
“‘I know that, otherwise I wouldn’t have invited you here.’
“I smiled. ‘How did you manage that?’
“‘There are things I’ve learned to do.’
“‘Listen, the long and the short of it is that I’d like to join you in your fight against the Mau Maus.’
“He spread his hands out and bid me look at his cave. ‘Could you live here?’
“‘No, not for more than a few weeks.’
“‘I’ve lived here for over 10 years. Some nights when I go out on a raid I sleep out, but this has been my home.’
“‘Surely there must be something I can do to help.’
“‘You’ve done many things to help already.’ He pointed to the radio. ‘I hear things. You’ve gone to Britain to kill Mau Maus.’
“‘Yes, I have.’
“‘The Lord will bless you for it.’
“‘I’d like to know more about you – are you Thomas Cooper?’
“‘I was Thomas Cooper, a lukewarm, worldly Christian. Now my name is Ezekiel.’
“‘Why take the name Ezekiel?’
“He took me to another section of the cave. What I saw took me aback, but I was not shocked. Ezekiel’s manner kind of prepared you to see things that were out of the ordinary. ‘This is my family.’ He said this and pointed out his family in the most natural way imaginable. And he wasn’t pointing to gravestones, he was pointing to eight skeletons, the skeletons of his seven children and his wife. He stood in the midst of the skeletons and quoted from memory, ‘“And he said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knowest. Again he said unto me, Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus saith the Lord God unto these bones; Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live: And I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am the Lord. So I prophesied as I was commanded: and as I prophesied, there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bone to his bone. And when I beheld, lo, the sinews and the flesh came up upon them, and the skin covered them above: but there was no breath in them. Then said he unto me, Prophesy unto the wind, prophesy, son of man, and say to the wind, Thus saith the Lord God; Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live. So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood up upon their feet, an exceeding great army.”’
“Then he stared at me and spoke in a voice of ecstasy, ‘I shall be allowed to die in this cave; though pierced with Mau Mau spears or shot by Mau Mau rifles, I will come back here to die and I shall see those bones, the bones of my wife and children, come together and live and breathe again. And we shall be a great army that goes against the Mau Maus, who are the devil’s own. I have seen him at their rituals; he is their lord. But my Lord, the Christ, the Son of the Living God, will go forth and send the Mau Maus and the devil to eternal hell. And I will embrace my family again.’
“I’m not fully conveying the passion of this man called Ezekiel. If you picture King Lear in the storm you might get an idea of what he sounded like, and how I felt as I listened to him.
“Is he crazy? He didn’t appear crazy. And really, is there anything he said about his family that isn’t in keeping with the Christian faith, at least the true faith that Europeans used to believe? He loves his family and his people, and the Mau Mau massacres of his family and his people have made him a raging apostle of the God who raises the dead to life.
“I once thanked you for not preaching to me, Reverend. But I now realize you were preaching to me in the only way that I could understand. Christ is our holy defender, and the cult of the Mau Mau, which is the cult of Satan, has one foe who hates that devilish cult more than Ezekiel and Edward Owen hate it. Christ hates Mau Mau because He loves us. There are so many Europeans, the only ones who I respect and love, that have borne witness to the Christ who is ‘the grave where buried love doth live.’ He is their Savior and He is mine. But then I guess you always knew that.
“How could you not know it; you always knew my heart.”
Grey:He goes on to tell how he keeps an eye on Ezekiel, but he does not meet him at his cave, because he doesn’t want anyone to follow him there. Twice a month he lets Ezekiel find him, and he passes on some food stuffs, ammunition, and reading materiel. Ezekiel did not want any ‘secular’ reading, but Edward persuaded him to take a copy of King Lear and Scott’s Lay of the Last Minstrel. Ezekiel says King Lear’s journey is his journey – “I let my family down, because I didn’t know the Lord enough to recognize the devil, who was in the Mau Maus, when I saw him.”
Montgomery:I’m sure Ezekiel will live and die there in Kenya, but what about Edward? I don’t like to think of him staying there.
Grey:He mentions South Africa; I think he’ll eventually settle there.
Bontini:And who knows, maybe I’ll join him there.
Grey:Not so fast, I need you here.
Bontini [laughing]: All right, I guess we do make a good team. You’re kind of a religious version of Sherlock Holmes, and I’m your Italian Doctor Watson.
[The phone rings and the Rev. Grey answers it.]
Grey: It’s for you, William.
Montgomery[taking the phone]: It’s my wife; she wants to know if she and the girls should dress formally.
Grey:They can if they want to, but they’ll put the rest of us to shame if they do. I’d suggest informal attire. There will be a service, then dinner, and then some festivities, all very un-Cromwellian. On this blessed night we’ll forget all about the Mau Maus and concentrate on the Lord of the feast.
[Montgomery relays the message and then hangs up the phone. Grey kneels, as do Montgomery and Bontini. Grey prays.]
“Almighty God, which hast given us thy only begotten Son to take our nature upon Him, and this day to be born of a pure virgin: Grant that we being regenerate and made thy children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit; through the same our Lord Jesus Christ who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, now and ever. Amen.”
“There are many things from which I might have derived good, by which I have not profited, I dare say,” returned the nephew: “Christmas among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come around – apart from the veneration due to its sacred name and origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart from that – as a good time: a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that is has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!”
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We had a friend who was our friend from early days, with whom we often pictured the changes that were to come upon our lives, and merrily imagined how we would speak, and walk, and think, and talk, when we came to be old. His destined habitation in the City of the Dead received him in his prime. Shall he be shut out from our Christmas remembrance? Would his love have so excluded us? Lost friend, lost child, lost parent, sister, brother, husband, wife, we will not so discard you! You shall hold your cherished places in our Christmas hearts, and by our Christmas fires; and in the season of immortal hope, and on the birthday of immortal mercy, we will shut out Nothing! – Charles Dickens
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While traveling in the Lake District of England one summer I got lost, which turned out nicely for me, because I was offered a night’s lodging by an elderly English couple who were very kind and hospitable. In the study where I slept that night there was a painting that my host told me was by an unknown German painter. The painting depicted a Santa Claus-type figure keeping a black devil under lock and key. The painting brought to mind Prospero and Caliban.
I think, and possibly I’m alone in this, that works like the old German painting and Shakespeare’s The Tempest take us back to a time when the white man’s racial memory was still functioning. He remembered when his people fought for the light against Cush and Nimrod, who fought for the devil and the powers of darkness. And if such things sound too fantastical to be true, I would ask you to look at what is happening in the European nations. Can there be any doubt that black people have a special relationship with the devil? Why, in the European fairy tales, is the devil is depicted as a black man? I think, and the evidence is all around us, it was because our ancestors had wise blood; they knew instinctually that the blacks had to be held in check or they would rise up and destroy everything white and Christian.
There is no contradiction between a benevolent Santa Claus and a fierce, fighting Santa Claus. Doesn’t that “charity of honor” demand that all true Christian hearts should fight evil and champion the good? And who is more Christian and charitable than Santa Claus? Only our Lord, whom Santa Claus serves. We need a fighting Sinterklaas who will lead his people against the colored barbarians and the liberals.
I saw an article by a self-styled black muckraker who wrote that white complaints about black violence revealed white racism, because black violence against whites was part of black culture. The black pundit went on to explain that the slightest murmur of protest from whites was an indication of “racism,” which is evil. That bit of black logic has been accepted by white people. They truly believe that they must accept black violence against whites. Whenever a black atrocity occurs that cannot be hushed up (and most of them are) some Professor So-and-so declares that the black atrocity is nowhere near as dangerous as the prejudiced reactions of white people who deplore the black atrocity. We are not only supposed to countenance black atrocities, we are also forbidden to call them atrocities. They are just expressions of black culture or else they are ‘justifiable’ killings and rapes, because of “the terrible legacy of white racism.”
The white man’s acceptance of black atrocities against whites stems from his lack of a religion. He has jettisoned his belief in the Christian God for a belief in an ongoing evolutionary process toward a heaven on earth that is always in the future, never in the present. So the white man lives in black hell while he dreams of a kingdom of heaven on earth that can and will become a reality as soon as all prejudiced white people are eliminated from the face of the earth. Prejudice is always the enemy, but only white prejudice as defined by the liberals and the colored barbarians. This prejudice pervades the very air we breathe, according to the liberals and their colored gods, and it can only be eliminated when white people are eliminated. This is why there are never any concessions made to whites. They can elect a black president, they can say nothing as their kith and kin are murdered, but still they are prejudiced. Nothing a white man does can eliminate his original sin, which is his whiteness.
I love Clement Moore’s “The Night Before Christmas,” Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, the old Christmas carols, and everything that goes with a truly white Christmas. But we must never forget that Christmas is a European custom: there will be no Christmas if the colored barbarians are allowed to pollute the European nations with their presence. The formerly Christian clergymen have already handed the churches over to the colored gods: should we follow their lead and hand over our kith and kin to be sacrificed at the altars consecrated to the negro gods? No, we will not. I see a fighting Sinterklaas in my mind’s eye, and I will follow his lead, because the liberals and the colored barbarians are maniacally and unalterably opposed to Christmas. How could it be otherwise? The birth of mercy incarnate is an anathema to Satan and his liberal and colored minions.
In the European Christmases of old there was a wonderful stress on intimacy: Intimacy with our kith and kin — “peace on earth, good will toward men” — and intimacy with our Lord — “Away in the manger, No crib for His bed, The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head.” Intimacy is also stressed in modern Europe, but it is intimacy with the devil. We are urged, through every official channel of church and state, to get closer to the devil by loving and adoring the sacred negro. You can’t serve the devil and Christ; a man must choose one or the other – mercy incarnate cannot be blended with cruelty incarnate.
For centuries literary critics, who do not understand literature, have been trying (and failing) to find the ‘secret’ meaning of Shakespeare’s The Tempest. The secret is that there is no secret meaning. The Tempest is Shakespeare’s 1st Corinthians 13. Prospero, like St. Paul, rejects the way of “all mysteries, and all knowledge;” and follows the simplest yet most profound way to God – “Charity never faileth.” Prospero loves in and through his people. He protects his daughter from the negroid Caliban, and he forgives his kinsmen their sins against him, binding up their wounds and reconciling them to each other. By being merciful Prospero points us to the God of mercy, just as Sinterklaas does every Christmas when he helps us to celebrate the birth of the God of mercy. But the God of mercy can only come to human hearts. He needs such men as Sinterklaas and Prospero who are willing to be fierce in defense of charity, mercy, and innocence. Caliban, by his own admission, would have raped Miranda and made Prospero’s isle a hellish black Babylon.
Prospero. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us’d thee, Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodg’d thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honor of my child.
Caliban. O ho, O ho! Would ‘t had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had people’d else This isle with Calibans.
Prospero. Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take, Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow’d thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore was thou Deservedly confin’d into this rock, Who hadst deserv’d more than a prison.
The murder and rape of the European people is proceeding at a rapid pace, because we no longer see that the Sinnterklaas who keeps the black devils in chains and the Sinterklaas who gives presents to all the good boys and girls is one and the same. The Christmas virtues, faith, hope, and charity, must have a local habitation; they must have European hearts to dwell in. The liberals and the colored barbarians are on a satanic mission to root out those European virtues by having the heart’s blood of every single European. The ghost of Christmas present tells us that we must keep the spirit of Christmas in our hearts for all 365 days of the year. So be it, let us keep the fighting spirit of Sinterklaas and Prospero in our hearts this Christmas season and throughout the year.
As I grow older I find that I am becoming one with the old squire depicted in Washington Irving’s narrative of a Christmas in England. The old squire was fierce in defense of the old Christmas customs. We now need a legion of old squires to defend Christmas. What kind of people are these liberals and colored barbarians who want to destroy the Christmas traditions of the European people? I think we know what kind of people they are. They are Christ-hating technocratic liberals and Christ-hating negroid devils. Let us not blend our European Christmas with liberals or let the savage hordes of color destroy it. Instead we shall celebrate His birth as all Europeans should, with faith, hope, and above all with the charity that never faileth. Merry Christmas! +
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[CWNY’s original NOTE: For the next two Saturdays, I will publish my usual Christmas tale published and then resume with my regular blog.]
Precious memories, unseen angels Sent from somewhere to my soul, How they linger, ever near me, And the sacred past unfolds.
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There are so many atrocities committed by blacks against whites that it has become impossible to give each white victim the attention they deserve. By rights every murdered white should have their name put on a war memorial, because they lost their lives in our nation’s bloodiest war, the war that only one side is fighting. Amidst the barbarities of any war there are always some victims that stay in your memory permanently. One such victim who stays in my memory and my prayers is Jonathan Foster, the young boy who was burned to death by a demonic black woman. I know there are some Christian groups that do not believe in prayers for the dead, but how can we put a limit on God’s grace? That poor child: surely our prayers must be able to comfort him?
Another white victim who will stay with me forever is Brendan Tevlin, the young teenager in New Jersey who was murdered this past summer by a homegrown black Moslem jihadist. “He had to die,” the sub-human negroid monster declared. There was no outrage in the white community over Brendan’s murder. There were no cries for “justice” as there were when the murderous black thug, Michael Brown, was killed in Ferguson, Missouri. Nor did our black attorney general or our black president come forward and condemn black America for making the murder of whites such as Brendan Tevlin a common occurrence in our nation. Instead we were treated to the spectacle of liberal sycophants and black hoodlums such as the Rev. Al Sharpton being wined and dined at the White House as they spewed out one anti-white tirade after another. One white chief of police, who is unfit to live let alone be a chief of police, suggested that white police officers should just walk away from confrontations with black thugs. That is the unwritten law right now. But should the law become codified the predatory negro savages, who already have very little fear of white reprisals, will be able to completely indulge their blood-thirsty appetites. Maybe that is best; after all we don’t want to stifle the natural impulses of the noble, black savages.
When I worked as a police officer our instruction manual encouraged us to “aggressively confront those who break the law.” We quickly learned how hypocritical our manual was. Aggressively confronting crime meant aggressively confronting black barbarians, and that meant facing an aggressive prosecuting attorney who asked you why you struck, beat, or shot that good, pure, and noble black man. If you make the rules of engagement too complicated and too one-sided in favor of the criminal, white police officers will be at an enormous disadvantage when confronting black barbarians. And as a consequence a great many white officers, who could survive if they knew they were really allowed to “aggressively” confront black thugs, will be killed by black savages. But of course that is what the liberals and the colored barbarians want. They want whites to be completely defenseless against the colored tribesmen. In London the colored jihadists screamed as they chopped off a British soldier’s head, “Your police won’t protect you!” That is essentially correct. We must protect ourselves now, not because white police officers are cowardly; they are not. But they are not paid to protect and serve white people, they are paid to protect and serve the negro. The Swedish police put it quite succinctly when they said that there was “good violence,” which was black on white violence, and there was “bad violence,” which was whites defending themselves against black violence. Is it not horrifically obvious what is going on throughout all of the European nations? When whites defend themselves the liberals and the colored tribesmen unite to make sure such a horrendous event never happens again. But the daily massacre of whites does not even warrant a comment. The liberals and the colored barbarians say nothing, because when blacks murder whites, the world is as it should be: the sacred black gods are destroying the white devils. The white grazers say nothing about the massacre of whites, because they are afraid of being called racist, which is the ultimate scarlet letter in Liberaldom.
The modern police force came into being to counteract the criminal gangs that were roaming the city streets. The citizens hired their own gang to fight the criminal gangs. Now we must face the fact that the police are not hired to protect white people from black criminals, they are hired to serve the negrophile government. That is why the white police officer in Ferguson, Missouri had to resign and must live in fear for his life and the possibility of federal charges against him. He did not protect and serve “the people” who are and always shall be, so long as liberals reign, the sacred negroes.
I have nothing against hunting or sports per se, but I do have a grudge against the modern white hunters and sportsmen. In Walter Scott’s Europe, hunting and sports were a means to an end. They helped a man to prepare himself for the real battle against principalities and powers. In that battle a man, if he is a true European, must adhere to the code of chivalry. A man without chivalry is not a man. Winston Churchill said in reference to Rommel: “In modern war there is no room for chivalry.” The Europeans cannot accept such cynicism. There must always be room for chivalry; it falls on us, the remnant, to make sure that there is a Christian European presence in the modern world. And by “presence,” I mean a fighting presence. Our people are being slaughtered: “Is it time to jest and dally now?”
Hunting and sports in Liberaldom are dog bones the liberals throw to the white grazers to keep them content. What if the same amount of masculine energy currently being spent in sport and hunting was diverted to the chivalrous defense of whites? That would be a sight to behold: white men actually fighting back against liberals and the colored barbarians! Such a blessed event does not seem possible, because white men appear to be completely and invincibly passive in the face of evil. If you threaten to take their dog bones away, they grumble, but if you kill their people and make them worship the negro gods they remain docile and compliant. Obviously, the root cause of the white man’s tragic indifference to white genocide stems from a deeply ingrained disease of the spirit. The white man has walked away from his past, and in doing so he has walked away from his soul.
In 1944 there was a remarkable movie made called A Canterbury Tale. (1) It was not a retelling of Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales; it was a tale about miracles, and the grace of God. The unlikely hero of the story is a man who pours glue in women’s hair. Both Butterfield and H. V. Morton described how the British people gathered strength to fight through the war by reconnecting with their past. The hero of A Canterbury Tale lives a life that is connected to his people, living and dead. He is not connected to them solely through the intellect, through a perusal of an old document, or through an adherence to a traditionalist sect. He is connected to his honored dead “feelingly”: his heart beats as one with their hearts: “The action of my life is like it, which I’ll keep, if but for sympathy.” The white counter-revolution will come from the ranks of men such as the hero of A Canterbury Tale, men who go into the future while holding onto the strings of the past.
An intellectual people, as distinct from an intelligent people, do not go into the future holding onto the strings of the past; they sever all sentimental ties to the past and look to the future for sustenance and inspiration. A intellectualized modern might reference the past; he might even express a preference for the philosophers and theologians of the past, but if his heart is dead, if he doesn’t connect spiritually with the “good old folk from long ago,” he is a man with a “soul so dead,” a man who prefers a postponed life, waiting for ensoulment to take place when his abstractions become reality and take the place of the God who he has never really known.
The colored tribesmen have, as yet, no history; their lives are an endless cycle of bloodlust. The liberals look to a Jacobin future with the negro as the penultimate representative of the new man, devoid of the imperfections of the evil white man. And the conservatives, the men who quote the old documents, look to a future where managerial men, who live only from the neck up, rule a world devoid of human imperfections. I do not see anything of value, anything human, in colored paganism, in liberal Jacobinism, or in abstract, managerial conservatism. I see only hell fire and the pit in those monstrous vehicles of inhumanity.
We had a covenant with our European ancestors, a covenant of blood. Not the type of blood covenant that unites the colored tribesmen in their satanic hatred of the white race. No, our ancient covenant was a covenant of spirit and blood. When we broke that covenant we lost our souls. The modern Europeans are spiritual nomads without a place to call their own. Our people, who rest in the arms of the Lord, are calling us home, home to our racial hearth fire where He has prepared a place for us in this world and the next. Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat; why don’t we renew the covenant and become Christian Europeans again, men who will not permit our people or our heritage to be blotted out of existence by colored barbarians and liberal techno-barbarians? We are a people with a sacred past. If we rise and ride, united with the people of that sacred past, miracles will occur, and the Europeans, the people of Christmas, will ride triumphant over ruin and death. +
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(1) If you ever get a chance to see A Canterbury Tale, make sure you see the British version. The American version has been cut by a half-hour. Apparently the American distributors of the film felt that Americans were too restless to sit through a two-hour movie.
Conservatives have written volumes about the dumbing down of our children. But unfortunately they are only talking about declining scores on math and English achievement tests. The real tragedy of the European people has been and continues to be the deterioration of their spiritual nerve endings. They have been desensitized to things of the spirit. How else can we explain this unholy zeal to mate with and worship the negro? This deification of the Mau Mau, this unholy trinity of Satan, the negro, and the liberal, should be opposed by the European Christian with all his heart, mind, and soul. If a man says he is a Christian but will not fight against the unholy trinity, he is neither a Christian nor a European: he is one of Satan’s own. –CWNY
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After Obama legalized millions upon millions of Aztec invaders by imperial fiat, the conservatives pointed out that his imperial fiat was the act of a despot, not the act of a president of a constitutional republic. Of course it is the act of a despot, but why should we expect a man with African blood to understand how to run a republic founded by white men? A black man knows how to get what he wants from white liberals, but he hasn’t the slightest idea about running any government besides a tyrannical, cruel, despotic government. Only conservatives who don’t believe in racial differences would expect a black man to honor the laws, customs, and the people of a white republic. Obama is being true to his blood. He wants to exterminate the white race. Why should he let some paper-and-ink scruples of white men deter him from his bloodletting by fiat?
What prevents a ruler from acting as if the nation he governs exists only to fulfill his selfish needs? Only a sense of duty that is stronger than his selfish instinct for self-aggrandizement and power can keep a ruler on the right path. And from whence comes a man’s sense of duty? It comes from the faith that is in him. Nelson’s dying words were, “Thank God I have done my duty.” Such an ethos stems from a bred-in-the-bone faith in the Christian God; it does not come from out of Africa or from a book of philosophy.
Only white men of the old stock, men who believe in that charity of honor, are fit to rule white nations. Liberals and colored barbarians, who know everything about power and entitlements but nothing about honor and duty, are not fit to rule over rats in a garbage dump let alone white men in white nations. But liberals and black men do rule over white men in white nations. The slaughter of whites will not be stopped until the liberal techno-barbarians and the colored barbarians are no longer the rulers in white nations.
The United Negro-Worshipping States of American is currently having a larger than usual Negrogeddon because a white police officer was found not guilty in the self-defense shooting of a negro barbarian. Every day white children, white women, white men, and white policemen are tortured, raped, and murdered by black barbarians. The liberals and the black barbarians never protest against those atrocities. In fact they put the racist label on anyone who dares to protest against the negro atrocities. And once the magic racist label is used, the negroes and the liberals cannot be held accountable for barbarities committed or countenanced. Yet one self-defense killing by a white police officer has set off what the blacks and liberals feel is a justifiable Negrogeddon.
In the midst of Negrogeddon the conservatives cite the Constitution, which is like trying to put out a raging inferno with a water pistol. Something greater than an intellectual affirmation of the “rule of law” is necessary. But genuine conservatism died with the South. Twentieth century “conservatives” want to preserve a generic people living in a generic nation. It was, and is, of no consequence to the conservatives whether their nation consists of black or white people, because they look on all people as interchangeable cogs that exist solely to be manipulated by the abstracted minds of the conservative intellectuals. Right after Obama’s fiat I heard the self-professed conservative Mike Huckabee proclaiming that he was not against colored immigration; far from it — he welcomed it. What he was against was illegal immigration. That has always been the mantra of the “conservatives.” They are not against white genocide: they simply want it done in an orderly fashion. This is sheer lunacy. The extermination of whites is wrong whether it is done legally or illegally. What is legality outside of His reign of charity? There is no such thing: it is an invention of the greatest legalist of them all – Satan.
I’ve always felt akin to the great Russian writer Fyodor Dostoyevsky, because we both were drawn back to the Christian faith in the same way. When the revolutionary Bakunin lectured his new convert, the young Dostoyevsky, on the necessity of burying all sentimental attachments, even one’s sentimental attachment to Jesus Christ, Dostoyevsky wept. He couldn’t do it. I felt the same way when I entered the university. The philosophical defenses of Christianity disappeared like the mists of the morning, but His sacred image, the image of the European Christ, stayed with me. The theologians and the modern conservatives give us nothing to hold on to. A man can’t go into battle with a syllogism; he must have a faith in the heroes of his race, and through them he must have faith in The Hero. The negro barbarians are burning and looting in Ferguson, Missouri, because one of their own, a thieving murderous thug who had just beaten and robbed a shop owner and was trying to wrest a white police officer’s gun from him, was killed. Not one single rioter cares about Michael Brown. They care about black power: white people cannot be allowed to defend themselves against black violence. Ferguson, Missouri is a mirror of the European world. There must be no resistance to black violence, because black people are the chosen ones: they are the man-gods who have replaced the God-Man in the hearts of the liberals.
Conservative intellectuals who favor abstract people of no particular race over the people of their own racial hearth fire are no match for the liberals and the colored barbarians. Their universalism is not a moral evolution, it is a descent to a Gnostic Christianity diametrically opposed to the Christianity of our European ancestors. The conservatives are all in favor of God, but they want to be in charge of God. From their standpoint God is messy and inefficient. “Why is it necessary,” they ask, “to pass on divine truths through the blood? Why can’t we all just discipline our minds so that we can understand and know God through our intellects?” No doubt God could have done things as the managerial conservatives in church and state wanted, but then He would have been something other than the God who imparts to human hearts: He would not have been our Lord and Savior. And that is the problem with the new universalism of the kindly conservative grazers. They want to make everyone happy in the abstract by ignoring God’s channels of grace. The colored savages and the liberals know what they want: they want to exterminate the white race. The former want to do so because they have never known Christ, and the latter want to do so because they hate the living God. The European grazers do not know what they want, because they have been denied their racial hearth fire where love, honor, and duty reside. It’s time for the Europeans to rise and ride, but they must be led by Europeans who love their own people more than humanity in the abstract.
What was unthinkable in Christian Europe is commonplace in liberal Europe. Savage barbarians of color are exterminating the white race while liberals look on with “remorseless glee.” It would take a miracle to revive the European people. But haven’t such miracles occurred in the past? Was not Christian Europe a miracle? Will He forsake His people? That is not possible. We have left Him: that is why we are defenseless before the hordes of color.
While waiting in the dentist’s office the other day, I got to talking with a man in his mid-nineties who had spent 40 years as a postman. He loved his route and the people on his route until his route became colorized. He watched, over the course of 40 years, a nice white neighborhood become a crime-ridden negro neighborhood. He made the same point that Anthony Jacob made in reference to Kenya: “I retired and moved farther out into the country, but eventually they’ll come out here.” Yes, eventually they’ll be everywhere. There are already parts of London that the police are afraid to enter for fear of the Moslem tribesmen. And most of the cities in the United States belong to either the Aztecs or the Mau Maus. Why should whites accept this as the natural order of existence? They should not, but they will accept racial Babylon so long as they are afraid of being racist. Is it wrong to hate the spawns of Satan who tell us by their words and actions that they are determined to destroy our people and our culture? “Yes, it is wrong,” the liberals tell us. But who gave the liberals the right to make the white man’s love of his own people a crime punishable by death? They are the satanic enablers of the demon races of color. Look at their faces: their satanic sneer tells us all we need to know about liberals who murder whites with the aid of the colored barbarians.
In the past our ancestors kept colored barbarians at bay and punished the slightest violation of the color code. That was not so far back in time. Those Europeans were giants of faith, hope, and charity. Are we not their spiritual heirs? God’s grace is not bound by time. If we love our people in and through our Lord, without blending our Christian faith with negro worship, Islam, or any other –ism, miracles will occur. The colored barbarians rule because whites have abdicated. It is time for whites to become racists, to fight for our kith and kin. If we are true to our blood, we will be true to our Lord and then, thank God, we will have done our duty. +
All men that are ruined, are ruined on the side of their natural propensities. There they are unguarded. Above all, good men do not suspect that their destruction is attempted through their virtues. This their enemies are perfectly aware of: and accordingly, they, the most turbulent of mankind, who never made a scruple to shake the tranquillity of their country to its center, raise a continual cry for peace with France. Peace with Regicide, and war with the rest of the world, is their motto. – Burke
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For some reason the liberal governments of Britain and the United States have decided that Somalis should inhabit the more northern climes. The British government sends them to Scotland, and the United States government sends them to Minnesota. One Minnesotan grazer spoke for the entire Western world when he said the Somalians were quite difficult to live with but he was trying to understand them. “Understanding” our fellow man is supposed to be a good thing, because understanding brings about peace and accord between peoples. Does it? Or is “understanding” merely another myth of the liberal world? Burke understood the Jacobins so well that he wanted to go to war with them. I understand the liberals, and I am at war with them because they are evil. As for the Somalians, if you truly understand them then you will refuse to let them into your nation, because they are monsters of cruelty that worship the savage gods of blood and sex.
In the margin of Melville’s copy of King Lear, right after a fiery soliloquy by Edmund, the bastard son of Gloucester, Melville notes, “There is an energy and fire to demonism that mere virtue often lacks.” The virtuous brother Edgar, “[w]hose nature is so far from doing harms, [t]hat he suspects none…,” is unable to help his father, who has both eyes plucked out, or anyone else until he “understands” that there are evil men in the world who will not stop doing evil until they are confronted by men who have more than mere virtue in their hearts. Evil must be confronted by men who love and hate with a passion greater than the men who worship darkness and not the light. It’s not enough to know the good – every moral theologian knows what is good – one must love the good enough to fight for it. But a fighting faith is outside the ken of moral theologians and philosophers. We must go to the realm of the poets, where men see with blinding sight and love and hate with all their hearts, to know how to deal with satanic liberals and their colored minions. When Edgar sees the evil that men do to his kith and kin, he leaves mere virtue behind and confronts evil:
Despite thy victor sword and fire-new fortune, Thy valor and thy heart—thou art a traitor, False to thy gods, thy brother, and thy father, Conspirant ‘gainst this high illustrious prince, And from th’ extremest upward of thy head To the descent and dust below thy foot A most toad-spotted traitor. Say thou “No,” This sword, this arm, and my best spirits are bent To prove upon thy heart, whereto I speak, Thou liest.
Edgar is a Minnesotan grazer at the beginning of King Lear, but he is a Goth by the end of the play. The white Europeans are re-enacting King Lear, because they will not understand evil. The French Revolution is still glossed over as a much-needed, democratic reform taken a little too far by Robespierre. Likewise the Communist revolution: “Uncle Joe was too extreme, but the communists’ hearts were in the right place.” The refrain is always the same. White people do not believe that anyone means them harm. Liberals are nice people and so are the colored barbarians: we are all nice people. The only worry is people like thee and me who talk about negro worship and the satanic nature of liberalism. That is extremism, which is bad.
It is not physical courage that is lacking in the white nations. There are always men willing to fight for the official government. What is lacking is moral courage, the will to fight for the good, for kith and kin, despite the unpopularity of the fight. It is moral courage that distinguishes a white man from the barbarians of color and the beasts of the jungle who only fight when they have the upper hand. To call the soldiers of the pro-abort, negro-worshipping government of the United States or the soldiers of all the other negro-worshipping pro-abort nations of Europe “our troops” is blasphemous. Our troops are those whites who fight for white, Christian Europe, not those who fight for liberals.
A nation is a moral essence, not a spot on the map. If Britain becomes a colored Moslem state, it ceases to be Britain, just as France ceases to be France, and so on. It’s not the colored people who are forcing the white people out of their own nations, it is white liberals, who have brought the colored barbarians into the white nations and protect those same colored barbarians from white retaliation, that are turning white nations into colored nations.
There are still white grazers enough to resist the colored invasion. My N.R.A. neighbor, for instance, would gladly bring his arsenal of weapons along on a campaign to rid our nation of colored barbarians, if the government gave the word. And that is the key. The respective governments of all of the white nations will not give the word to drive the colored barbarians from their lands. The exact opposite is the case. The governing elites in all the European nations are committed to the extermination of white people, so the grazers sit back and watch the colored barbarians cannibalize the whites.
Nothing will be done to stop the colored barbarians so long as the white grazers do not see that every aspect of their fast dwindling world is dominated by Satanists. Our governments, our churches, and above all, our educational establishments, are committed to the extermination of whites. The liberals are very clever: they have ecumenical services with Moslems, they call our attention to “Christian” black rappers, and they enjoin us to be tolerant and kind to black barbarians, because under the skin we are all alike. But that is precisely the point: under our skins we are not all alike. White skins envelop white souls. And white souls differ from black, brown, and yellow souls. The liberals acknowledge this when they demonize whites and deify the colored races. When they want to move Somalians into the grazers’ neighborhoods, they tell them we are all alike under the skin; but their actions belie their words. The colored people are sacred and the whites are demons: that is the liberals’ faith. This brings us back to the central point. The liberals are Satanists. If you accept their theology you will be serving Satan. “I shall not serve,” was Satan’s defiant declaration to God. “We shall not serve,” should be our response to the rulers of Satandom.
If white souls differ from colored souls, how do they differ? The answer should be obvious to us, but in this age of anesthetized souls it no longer is obvious to most people. So let me quote from D. P. Dugauquier’s book Congo Cauldron:
Africans have respected power deriving from force for too many centuries to acquire any moral shackles—they admire and follow the man with strength. Here is an illustration, amusing but unfortunately quite true. In a school run by the Catholic Church for young men showing aptitudes which might befit them for eventual priesthood, a film was being shown. The film represented in silent form the trial and crucifixion of Jesus Christ. At the scene in the Palace where the Roman soldiers struck Him with whips and placed a crown of thorns upon His head, excited cries of ‘Pika! Pika!’ rang out from the Congolese. Pika means hit or strike, and quite naturally, as in a Western film we cheer on the goodies and boo the baddies, they were encouraging the strong against the weak.
Another film depicting in symbolic form the ending of the Arab slave trade by the white man was greeted with equal enthusiasm—each slash of the long whip on the wretched black men’s back was cheered wholeheartedly, and when in coming to grips with the Arab the white hero is momentarily thrown to the ground—their shouts reached a crescendo of support for the Arab—not as representing a race, creed or idea—but simply because he symbolized power and force.
This inability to grasp the essential point of Christianity, God’s divine charity, is not confined to the black race alone. I recall the story of a white missionary, having spent many years in China, relating how he showed a film of the crucifixion of Christ to a large gathering of Chinese. Their intense interest in the film encouraged the missionary. Later, the Chinese in the audience had gone out, ambushed a caravan of whites, and crucified them. Enough said. The theologians of the West are fond of telling us that the history of the European people is not different from that of the colored people, because all the seven deadly sins are present among whites just as they are present amongst the colored people of the world. But a man who becomes a theologian has made an a priori decision about existence. He has already decided that truth can be seen with, not through, the eye. That a priori decision makes the theologian blind to all things that exist in the realm of the spirit. There is hell and redemption in the soul of the white man. He can become like unto Satan, an intellectualized demon with a burning desire to strike the Creator by defacing his image in man, or he can, by adhering to His will, bear witness to the Light of the World. That the Europeans, prior to their rejection of Christ in the 20th century, bore witness to the Light of the World is clear to all those who have eyes to see and ears to hear. A civilization based on “that charity of honor” was created right before their eyes, and the theologians knew it not. They opened up their minds while closing their hearts to God, who comes to us in and through our people.
The colored tribesmen know only hell. They had no redemption in them, until they saw the light emanating from the hearth fires of the Europeans. Now the humanoid-demons who have consecrated their souls to the devil, the liberals, have joined forces with the savage hordes of color to build a kingdom of Satan on earth. God so loved mankind that He gave His only begotten Son to redeem us from sin and death. The Europeans made that belief a part of their white souls; hence the attack on Christ’s divinity and his humanity always comes by way of an attack on the European people. The Jews sought to kill Lazarus after Jesus raised him from the dead:
But the chief priests consulted that they might put Lazarus also to death; Because that by reason of him many of the Jews went away, and believed on Jesus.
Because of the Europeans, our beloved forefathers, our brethren in Christ, many believed in Christ. This is why the liberals will be forever at war with the European people: the Europeans are the Christ-bearers. Even though they are currently grazing in the fields of oblivion, there is always a chance they might return to life, which is why the liberals are forever vigilant, committed to destroying everything white and Christian.
The one essential difference between the colored races and the white race is not intelligence. It is something much greater than intelligence: it is charity. Only the Europeans loved Christ for His divine charity – “because He first loved us.” The people who saw life feelingly were the antique Europeans. Against all reason, against the wisdom of the world, the Europeans made the suffering servant, a man crucified between two thieves, their Lord and Savior. The true faith is revealed when Europeans act in accord with His reign of charity. “This slaughter of whites shall not go on, in the name of charity, it shall not go on.” That is the only war cry that will put an end to white genocide.
The liberals have blinded their eyes and hardened their hearts: His divine charity does not move them; they regard it as something that must be purged from the earth so that utopian, heartless, sterile liberalism can prevail. In order to kill charity the liberals must pluck it out of every European heart. They have already purged it from their own hearts. But does it still exist in some European hearts? That is the question that haunts the liberals. Yes, charity still lives in some European hearts. And it is a fire that will destroy liberalism. A love that passeth all understanding moves the Europeans who have that charity of honor. The liberal techno-barbarians and the colored barbarians will fall before those hearts of fire. +
After many, many years there came a king’s son into that land: and an old man told him the story of the thicket of thorns; and how a beautiful palace stood behind it, and how a wonderful princess, called Briar Rose, lay in it asleep, with all her court. He told, too, how he had heard from his grandfather that many, many princes had come, and had tried to break through the thicket, but that they had all stuck fast in it, and died. Then the young prince said, ‘All this shall not frighten me; I will go and see this Briar Rose.’ The old man tried to hinder him, but he was bent upon going.
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A big Republican winner in Ohio immediately announced in his victory speech that his top priority was “diversity.” Rand Paul followed suit. After the Republican victories, he scolded Republicans for ignoring black and Hispanic voters. He, the great Rand Paul, would change that. And on it goes into the night. We can elect different executioners if we want, but the extermination process will still proceed at a steady pace.
The white Europeans are in the position of Antonio in Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice. Shylock wants Antonio’s heart’s blood, and he will use the letter of the law to get it: “I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of my bond.” To move Shylock with an appeal for mercy is futile:
I pray you, think you question with the Jew: You may as well go stand upon the beach And bid the main flood bate his usual height; You may as well use question with the wolf Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; You may as well forbid the mountain pines To wag their high tops and to make no noise, When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven; You may as well do anything most hard, As seek to soften that–than which what’s harder?– His Jewish heart:
Of course there is a crucial difference between the white man’s current rulers and the rulers of Shakespeare’s imaginary Venice. Antonio did not have his heart cut out because the spirit of the law, which was adhered to by the Christian ruler of Venice, requires that justice should be tempered with “the quality of mercy.” Not so in Liberaldom. The liberals, whether they are Jews or non-Jews, have Shylockian hearts. They will have their pound of flesh. The history of the European people is now a history of slaughter. Every day the blood-red tide of colored atrocities rises, and the concern of the liberals who govern white nations is to attack the white victims of the colored atrocities. By some twisted liberal logic, it is always the white man’s fault when colored barbarians murder whites. No atrocity is ever the fault of the negro barbarians or other barbarians of color. Evil resides only in white people; therefore, the evil that the colored barbarians do is either not evil, or, if it is deemed evil, it is the fault of the white man.
I feel toward the white grazers as Anthony Jacob felt toward the white Kenyans. He had no wish to deride the already much derided white Kenyans. They were guilty of only one thing: they trusted white liberals. That, in a nutshell, is the reason for white genocide. Liberals are in a minority in every white nation, yet they rule in every white nation, because white grazers permit them to rule. And please don’t respond with “vote them out of office.” There are no non-liberals running for office. The liberals understand the historical moment and the grazers do not, because they have no Burke to rally them. An implacable satanic foe armed with cruel hate has hired a mercenary army of colored barbarians to destroy the white race. It seems impossible to get the grazers to turn away from their football games long enough to grasp that essential fact of life in modern Satania. But the grazers are white people, so I will not assume that they are irremediable. “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more…”
White people are between a rock and a hard place. The Shylockian liberals want their blood, and the colored barbarians are quite willing to shed white blood. White people’s only refuge, their racial hearth fire, is forbidden them, so they languish in a death-in-life limbo while they wait for the final death blow. Every white nation has a proud history of fighting men who were once part of the fabric of their nation. What has happened to the race that produced such men as Alfred, Tell, Wallace, Forrest, Bozzaris, Roland, and Winkelreid? I recently read of 10,000 Somalians who have overrun Scotland. How can this happen to the country of Wallace, Bruce, and Sir Walter Scott? How can any white European permit his nation to be defiled by the presence of colored barbarians? It has to do with our spiritual backbone, which is our race. If white people don’t believe they are a race apart from the colored races, a race of people who must protect and love their own, then they will not fight to preserve their race. How can a man fight for something he doesn’t believe exists?
As white people have disappeared as a race so has the quality of mercy disappeared. Cruelty and sexual depravity are all that is left in the formerly white nations, because there are no white people left who will fight negrophile liberalism. The grazers will “support our troops,” who are not our troops, and they will support their local clergy and the local schools, but they will not fight for race and faith. “Our troops” are the troops of negrophile liberalism, our schools are liberal, negrophile factories, and our clergymen are blasphemers who have made the living God an adjunct of negro-worshipping liberalism. Instead of voting for our executioners we should take the same vow that Tell took when Gessler threatened the lives of his sons, his wife, and his people.
My boys, poor innocents, my loyal wife, Must be protected, tyrant, from thy rage! When last I drew my bow – with trembling hand– And thou, with fiendishly remorseless glee Forced me to level at my own boy’s head, When I, imploring pity, writhed before thee, Then in the anguish of my soul, I vow’d A fearful oath, which met God’s ear alone, That when my bow next wing’d an arrow’s flight Its aim should be thy heart. The vow I made, Amid the hellish torments of that moment, I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it.
Just a story? Europeans come from the land of storybooks. The heroes of our race point us to The Hero.
When the liberals and the clergy command us to progress beyond provincial, bardic, racist Europe to a universal, scientific world consecrated to the Negro, we should respond as Tell did that day at the mountain pass near Kussnacht. Our innocents are threatened. We have tried pleading, but to no avail. There is no mercy in the liberals or in the colored barbarians. How could there be mercy in the souls of those who have rejected the God of mercy or in the souls of those who have never known the God of mercy? The words “fiendishly remorseless glee” resonate with us today. Doesn’t that describe the liberals? The fiendish glee with which they respond to the colored atrocities against whites make me feel as Tell felt. There can be only one response to such creatures from hell: “Amid the hellish torments of that moment, I hold a sacred debt, and I will pay it.”
I was blessed to grow up during a time when the real Walt Disney was making pictures, so let me mention a short story-type of cartoon he made about Johnny Appleseed. We see Johnny as a young man who decides to plant apple seeds throughout the United States. The years roll by, and Johnny stays true to his mission. At the end of the story, Johnny lies down under an apple tree, and his immortal body steps away from his mortal husk. The transfigured body then goes on to plant apple trees in heaven. That image of death was comforting to me; in fact it was the only comforting image of death I ever encountered in my childhood. I couldn’t articulate the reason why I found the Johnny Appleseed death comforting; I just knew that I did. Looking back I realize that I was comforted by the fact that there was a real bodily resurrection and that heaven was not depicted as some other worldly, unfamiliar existence. It was a continuance of what was good here on earth.
After World War I, the first European War in which both sides abandoned chivalry (in our uncivil war only the North abandoned chivalry), a new European came to the forefront. He was a man who followed a different path than the one Johnny Appleseed followed. Johnny stepped away from his mortal husk into his immortal body. The new European reversed the process: he stepped away from his immortal soul and proceeded to wander the earth without it. He went from a divinely infused man of grace to a man without a soul, trying to make up for its absence by the power of his disembodied intellect. Such men, the men of the disembodied intellects, are cannon fodder for the demonic man of intellect who rules Satandom through his liberal minions.
The white man’s refusal to fight for his people – let us use the Somalian invasion of Scotland as the mirror image of what is occurring in every white nation – is the result of the white man’s flight from his soul. His white skin contains his soul, and as long as he retains his soul he is subject to all the terrors of the spiritual life that a blood-and-sex pagan is not subject to. “Do I simply go from a corruptible body to an incorruptible body, or do I enter a state of suspended animation somewhere between death and life? Or worse yet, do I melt into nothingness?” The fear of that undiscovered country from whose bourn no traveler returns has sent the white man into an intellectual retreat from which he supports the colored heathens, because their religions give him the opiates of sex and blood. But even here, the white man feels cheated; he can only participate in the heathen religions second-hand; lurking somewhere in the darkness is his white soul, trying to envelope him in that old world of crosses and redemption.
A religion that is not embodied soon becomes a dead religion. This is why the liberals must continue to attack every last vestige of Christian Europe. That Europe must remain in the grave so the new Europe, the Europe of the anesthetized zombie whites, can live. A Christian European is, in the eyes of the secular liberal and the clergyman, a fiend who will impede mankind’s progress toward a colored utopia where all mankind can forget the Man of Sorrows. Whites won’t fight back against the colored invasion, because they don’t know the answer to Melville’s question, “Sentry, are you there?” The answer can be found in the collective face of the European people, before they separated themselves from their souls. There is no magic formula, no intellectual gambit that can make the white man fight for his people and his God. He must see existence feelingly before he will fight. Beyond the rational man, beyond the philosophical man, is the man of storybooks, the true European. He is the hero that by a miracle of grace has not succumbed to modern Babylon; he is a man with a soul. Let us follow such men to fairy tale Europe where we will discover that His Kingdom come and eternal Europe are one and the same. +
Some feelings are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than heaven;
–Walter Scott in Lady of the Lake
__________
The old ditty goes something like this:
Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat. Please do put a penny in the old man’s hat, If you haven’t got a penny, a ha’penny will do, If you haven’t got a ha’penny, then God bless you.
The modern ditty is quite different:
Election day is coming, negrophile Liberaldom is a fact. No self-respecting politician will wear a white hat. If you haven’t got a dark skin, a half-dark skin will do If you haven’t got even a half-dark skin, then the liberals damn you.
The white-hating liberals and the white-hating barbarians of color have an infinitude of candidates to vote for, because all the candidates, whether they be Democrat, Republican, or Independent, are committed to the ongoing extermination of the white race. There are no white candidates, candidates who have campaigned for the preservation of the white race. So vote for the candidate that believes in a slower extermination rate, but do not think for one second that voting will stop the extermination of whites. The liberal hierarchy has flown their colors; they believe in the sacredness of the negro and the evil of the white man. They shall not cease from mental strife until their colored minions have killed every last white.
“Haiti is the world,” the liberals cry with all the fervor of the devotees of a cruel barbarian mystery cult. As they gather round the sacred fire, they kiss the bloody knives of their black gods and start chanting, “Blood, blood, blood, we must have more white blood.” We can hear Charlie Brown asking, “Can anyone tell me what elections are all about?” Linus responds, but not with approval: “Thou shalt love the negro and hate the white man: that’s what elections are all about, Charlie Brown.”
The sickness unto death that has come upon the whites who still have something in their souls is the result of living in negrophile Liberaldom. Spiritually, it is the equivalent of living in a dark, rat-infested room, presided over by a demon who never lets you see the light of day but continues to let more and more rats into your room. The rats bite you as you fight with them for the scraps of food the demon jailer throws on the floor of your cell. Every other year the demon jailer gives you light enough to vote for a new jailer and for a different set of rats to gnaw at your entrails. Once you have voted, the lights go out again and the extermination process proceeds. Is not democratic, negrophile liberalism the very best of all possible worlds?
In the 6thNarnia book, The Silver Chair, the English children spend so much time in the Underworld under the influence of the evil witch that they begin to doubt that there ever was an Overworld. The Europeans have reached that state of existence. The liberals started in the overworld, the land of Christian Europe, and they have slowly transformed the European overworld into the Underworld. What is needed is a loving remembrance of that which was lost and a will to reclaim that which was lost. In a Spenglerian universe of birth, maturity, decay, and death, that which is lost remains lost. But Europeans do not live in a Spenglerian universe.
We can’t overlook the part the churches have played and continue to play in the destruction of Christian Europe and in the building and maintenance of a negrophile underworld, which has become the overworld, that keeps white people in a perpetual state of despair. From time immemorial organized Christianity has been at odds with paganism and Judaism, because both religions denied the incarnation of Christ. Why then did the church rely so much on the pagan philosophers and the Jewish system? The people of God, the Europeans, were not accorded their proper place in the church. Without the people of God, the Europeans, there is no human conduit for the divine presence. The human theater was empty, so the stage was set for a new people, a better people, to emerge. First, there was the Jacobin, then the proletariat, and finally the negro. The personal, human element that organized Christianity rejected for pagan philosophy and pharisaical Judaism, when the human element consisted of Europeans, became the keystone of Liberaldom once the negroes became the people of God, and then became the gods of a new Christless, Babylonian Christianity.
Satan is not threatened by an intellectual Christianity. In fact he encourages it, because he can make intellectual Christians do whatever he wants. Without a blood faith they will go whoring after new gods, such as the negro, or they will seek to blend Christianity with Islam or with the rapture of Israel.
The love of the negro and the hatred of the white has entered the bloodstream of the liberal. He now instinctually reacts against his own people. This hatred of the white unites him with the colored barbarians, because the hatred of the white race has always been in their blood. I saw a video a few days ago of several thousand German youths marching in Cologne in protest against radical Islam. Such things are good to see, but will that white rage be sustainable without a blood faith? Our rage and our eternal ‘no’ to racial Babylon must be rooted in the Cross of Christ. It is because Islam, negro-worshipping liberalism, and Judaism are opposed to His reign of charity that we rage against the dying of the light. Christ, despite what the clerics tell us, is not on the side of racial Babylon. It is up to those of us who still have a loving memory of the European past to show the sickness unto death Europeans that it was by the Cross that the Europeans of old conquered, and it is by the Cross that we shall conquer once again.
That Europeans should feel completely bereft of God and nation is the fulfillment of Satan’s dream, because when every channel of God’s grace has been destroyed he can rule unimpeded. When the European lost his racial hearth fire he lost his connection to the incarnate God. And all other gods are hollow caricatures of the living God. No true European can take sustenance from them. Yeats’ prophetic words, “The best lack all conviction,” can be applied to the modern Europeans. The best of them know something is wrong, but they don’t know who their enemies are, and they can’t find any solid ground to stand on while they’re trying to fend off the slings and arrows of the unknown enemy. If we tell them their enemies are the liberals, gentile and Jewish, who, with the aid of the colored barbarians, intend to destroy them, they will not believe it. Their “natures are so far from doing harm that they suspect none.” This above all makes my blood rage against the liberals and the colored barbarians. The worst of the grazers are worth more than all of the liberals and the colored barbarians put together. And the best of the lot, who hate modernity but cannot believe in an evil as sinister and malevolent as negrophile liberalism, are so morally distinct from the colored barbarians and the liberals that they seem to be a different species altogether. Like Lear, they are more sinned against than sinning. A life spent protecting that remnant and avenging the slaughtered white innocents will not be spent in vain.
There are times in our lives when we must look at death head on. A loved one dies and we have only our “trembling faith” to get us through. It seems like no comfort at all at first, because we feel only the unbearable parting – someone who was supposed to be immortal is no longer with us. Tennyson expressed it better than anyone: “The tender grace of a day that is dead… shall never come back to me.” But over time, the pain can be eased if we come away from the coffin to a society in which all the everyday activities point us to the Savior. When that is the case death loses its finality and is ultimately replaced by the sure and certain hope in the resurrection of the dead, a hope that is almost completely buried in the coffin when we are still at the graveside. But when there is a racial and familiar hearth fire to return to, a hearth fire of precious memories and loving hearts who share those precious memories with us, we do not despair. And when there is no racial and familiar hearth fire? We push death away with drugs and the opiates of superficiality. But inside there is always the feeling that we are:
Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread.
In a Christian society where the racial hearth fire is honored, all of the “trivialities” of life, such as sport, festivals, and business, point us to the Savior who destroyed the frightful fiend called death. The trivialities in such a society become something much more than trivialities: they become channels of grace. A man who does the everyday duties and participates in the every day festivities in a white, “racist” Christian culture is connected to the world of Handel’s Messiah. Death is swallowed up in victory. All this comes from that which the liberals and the colored barbarians despise, the Europeans’ racial hearth fire. No candidate for public office ever fights for that hearth fire, but we must, because it contains the only things that matter in this world and the next: Faith, Hope, and Charity.
The Europeans are currently being crucified with no hope of a resurrection. The frightful fiend, through negrophile liberalism, has laid hold of their souls. But he can’t hold us if we burst the devil’s bonds by returning to our racial hearth fire. The love that exists there, the love of kith, kin, and the Savior who sustains our Kith and kin, will make us heroes again. We will be men and women who love and hate with a sure and certain instinct more powerful than reason. Negrophile liberalism will prove unreal at last, and Christian Europe will prove to be eternal. +
Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight–
-Psalm 144
__________
For many years, from 1917 to 1956, whoever was head of the Russian Communist Party was the liberals’ pope and Russia was the holy land. But when a sitting pope, Nikita Khrushchev, denounced a former pope, Joseph Stalin, the liberals were in a quandary. Khrushchev’s repudiation of Stalin was their Vatican II. Do we go with the living pope or the dead pope? Most liberals rejected Stalin (not all though; I had a professor who was still a devout Stalinist), but they didn’t embrace the chubby Nikita; instead they went over to the non-European communist leaders such as Mao Tse-tung and Ho Chi Minh, who became the new popes. When the Asian communists lost their luster, they were replaced by the colored tribesmen of all nations, with the negro serving as the penultimate representative of “the people.” You must, if you are a liberal who despises the white race, have a utopian people to hold up as the all-virtuous, all-holy alternative to the white race, because if evil is endemic to all races how can the white race be demonized? There must be a utopian people who will “astound the world” with their virtue if only the white race can be exterminated.
Even though the liberals’ enthusiasm for communist Russia waned, they still maintained a soft spot in their hearts for the communist pigs of Russia. The divorce was an amicable one, because the communist pigs’ ideals were closer to the liberals’ ideals than they were to the beliefs of an antique European such as Alexander Solzhenitsyn. In point of fact, Solzhenitsyn earned the liberals’ wrath when he came to the West and told them that Christ, not liberalism, was the answer to communism. Had he told the liberals that their new kingdom of negrophile liberalism was a wonderful refinement of a slightly flawed communist system he would have become their hero.
The current leader of Russia, Vladimir Putin, has become an anathema to the liberals. They have already expressed greater outrage and disapproval of him than they ever expressed against Lenin, Stalin, and the rest of the communist popes. Why is this? Is Putin more murderous than Lenin, Stalin, and company? Hardly. Putin is not a Christian knight, but he has done nothing to justify the moral pariah label the liberals have pinned on him. Putin is hated by the liberals because he is a Russian nationalist and not a multicultural liberal. He has publicly told minorities in Russia that they must adhere to Russian cultural norms or leave Russia. And he has told homosexuals that they will not be allowed to foist their homosexual agenda on the Russian people. Shouldn’t any sane leader seek to defend his people from the dangers of multiculturalism and homosexuality? Putin is not my hero, because he is a pagan warrior not a Christian Goth, but I don’t see how any white European can quarrel with his attempt to defend his people against the multiculturalists and the homosexuals. If the Russian people accept multiculturalism, then they will cease to exist as a people. My only criticism of Putin is that he is not strict enough. For example, I don’t think having a black man on the Russian basketball team serves Mother Russia. The Russians don’t need to win basketball medals in the Olympics; they need to keep Mother Russia white. All multicultural encroachments are to be shunned. We cannot let the desire for liberal approval and for success in international sporting events make multicultural cowards of us all.
Russia under Putin has not made a pilgrim’s regress to a Christian nation, but Mother Russia is still infinitely sounder than the Western nations. Whenever a people resist multiculturalism there is hope that their nation might “regress” toward the light. The essence of communism was its rejection of the light in favor of a Godless kingdom of heaven on earth. It is ironic that the negrophile nations of Europe are now more communistic than Russia.
The liberals’ “we-must-be-multicultural” mandate means that all white nations must permit the colored strangers to exterminate their people. We all, we Europeans, are in the same boat as the white Russians. If we don’t fight multiculturalism, refusing to be broadminded and understanding when the murderous hordes of color invade our land, we will surely perish. Our resistance must amount to more than mere disapproval: we must hate the multiculturalists as we hate the devil. It’s no coincidence that as the Europeans lost their faith in Christ they also lost their desire to fight Satan and his minions. Putin cannot be our guiding light, because he is a pagan. What we need are Christian warriors. We need Alfreds and Tells, Christian men who are not under the thumbs of the clergy, who will fight for their people no matter what the odds against them.
If the clergy have given their blessing to negrophile liberalism how can Christian men support them? We can’t. We must oppose them as we would oppose the devil, because where negro worship is present the devil rules. These “Christian” clergymen who have elevated the negro to divine status and repudiated the Christian faith of our European ancestors are merely the lap dogs of the liberals, seeking the favor of their masters for doing the right tricks such as running off to Africa to “help” the African Ebola victims and then returning to the West to infect the evil whites who deserve what they get “because of slavery.” The hatred of the white and the love of the negro is what motivates the liberals. So long as we allow the Christian churches to sustain that love and hate we shall live in the pigsties of Liberaldom, waiting for our final extermination.
The hero of Walker Percy’s mock heroic novel, Love in the Ruins, tries to invent a machine that will reconnect the European’s brain with his soul. Of course no machine can perform that miracle, but it is necessary for the post-Christian European to come to the same conclusion as Orlando in Shakespeare’s As You Like It: “I can live no longer by thinking.” The portals to hell run through academia, which was spawned by the churchmen who thought that it’s better to have an intellectual concept of God than to know Him in and through the love of our people. There seems to be no limit to the degeneracy of a thoroughly trained academic. He is a man without any of the attributes that distinguish a man from a demon. So long as the spirit of academia, the demonic spirit which possessed Louis IX, governs white men, they will continue to look on the negro as a god who must be appeased with the blood of the white man.
I hope the Ebola illness is not spread throughout the Western nations, but whether the disease spreads or its progress is abated, the Ebola crisis gives us a window into the perverted souls of the liberals and the completely cowed souls of the conservatives. A nurse, recently returned from treating Ebola patients in West Africa, refused to accept a quarantine of 21 days. “It is unconstitutional and unscientific,” says the liberal star of the moment. “Her heart is in the right place,” the liberals and the conservatives intone, “She wants to help Africans.” No, the woman’s heart is in the wrong place, in fact, she has no heart. People who care nothing for their own kith and kin love only themselves. The nurse in question and the doctors who go over to West Africa and return for treatment to American medical centers are taking a gamble with their lives, but they are not taking that gamble because of a love for the sacred black man. They are taking that gamble because of an exalted egotism. They want to be worshipped as Atticus Finch was worshipped. And so far it is working. These monsters of selfishness (one Ebola-infected doctor came back, rode the subway, and went bowling!) couldn’t care less about their own family or their own people: all that pales in comparison to the praise they hope to receive for serving the negro gods of the Western world.
Liberals, a new breed of subhumans, have no humanity, because they reject God’s channels of grace. They will not love small, through their familial and racial hearth fires, they must love big, and they will love an abstract people who are deified because of their natural nobility, untainted by the sinful white man. That is the liberals’ view of existence. Our people, of the not too distant past saw life through an entirely different prism:
God gave all men all earth to love, But, since our hearts are small, Ordained for each one spot should prove Beloved over all; That, as He watched Creation’s birth, So we, in godlike mood, May of our love create our earth And see that it is good…
So to the land our hearts we give Till the sure magic strike, And memory, Use, and Love make live Us and our fields alike– That deeper than our speech and thought, Beyond our reason’s sway, Clay of the pit whence we were wrought Yearns to its fellow-clay.
— “Sussex” by Kipling
Yes, the liberals love big. But the antique Europeans loved small. The former have never seen the face of God in their kith and kin, because they have rejected their kith and kin and as a consequence have gone whoring after strange gods and an alien people. The latter have seen the living God, because they never looked upon their familial and racial hearth fires as evils to be shunned. They saw Christ in those hearth fires, and they learned to love and felt what it was like to be loved, at those hearth fires. We have not supped full of horrors yet. The satanic tentacles of liberalism are always expanding and increasing in strength. But my heroes, the bards, warriors, and everyday men and women of Christian Europe, have shown us another world, a world consecrated to an entirely different God than the god of the liberals. Surely if we love that God in and through our people, we will, at the last trump, be able to say, “The day is ours, by the grace of God.” +
CONTENT UPDATE 7/10/23: All of CWNY’s works have been saved in 7 volumes (PDFs) on the Preservation page. They represent the most complete and accurate versions of his writing so far; they contain no images, just the text.
On August 1, 2021, CWNY ceased writing and passed to be with our Lord Jesus Christ; his family chronicles his passing on the page The Minstrel Sleeps (8/7/21). All his posts from 3/3/12 through 7/31/21 are on this site, via the Home page. All posts from CWNY’s older blog from 2006 – 2012 are also still available online here.
You may recall the deplatforming of CWNY’s first wordpress blog in March of 2019 (see the page On Being Deplatformed (4/21/19). When CWNY returned the next month with his new domain, unfortunately many posts from 3/3/2012 – 3/23/2019 remained inaccessible. Following his death, all of these ‘lost’ posts have been incorporated into this site by his family; see the Preservation of CWNY’s work page for more detail.
On the Preservation of CWNY’s work page, you may download pdfs of both this blog and the original blog, in their entirety. All posts are available in 7 complete volumes in PDF format, with no images, and in 2 incomplete PDFs containing most of the images and text. In addition, a download of CWNY’s Christmas Remembrances is also available on the Preservation page.
The Remembrances by CWNY page includes his final, albeit unfinished, Christmas story, accompanied with links to his previous Christmas stories. In addition, as noted above, all 11 Remembrances‘ chapters may be downloaded in one PDF from the Preservation of CWNY’s work page.
We would love to hear from those of you whose hearts have been touched by CWNY in some way. The How to contact CWNY’s family page explains how to do this.
May God bless you, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. We take comfort in His words, “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” –John 16:33
