50 years on from the creation of the National Front, veteran nationalist Eddy Morrison reports on the choice we now face
I am a founder member of the National Front, one of the few still active (my old Comrade, Andrew Brons was also a Founder member and is now the Chairman of the British Democratic Party).
I know of others, some ex-Union Movement such as Keith Thompson (League of St. George) and Colin Todd (Organiser of the Candour Organisation) to name but only two. I would say there are probably hundreds of White Nationalists from my generation of the 60’s and early 70’s who in some way are still fighting the good fight.
A month or so back I attended the funeral of Keith ‘Beefy ‘ Taylor, tragically dying in his early fifties, and was both astounded and encouraged to see over sixty White Nationalists also paying their respects. They came from many groups and no groups but they were unified for those few precious hours to say their farewells to a good and steady White Patriot, Beefy – also a long term member of the National Front.
One old Comrade asked me after the service ‘Did we all waste our time Eddy?’
My reply was this – NO we did not waste our time for we can say to our children and grandchildren that at least WE FOUGHT!
But reflecting back is it not a greater tragedy that it takes the death of a Comrade to give us total Nationalist Unity even for a few short hours?
I am reminded of the old Norse saying:
“Cattle die and kinsman die and one day you and I shall die. All that will remain is the fame of a dead man’s deeds”
So the fight goes on as it must. We have no real choice. It’s either victory or racial death. For us; for our children and for generations yet unborn.
Looking at the fractured British Nationalist scene I see a number of groups who, if United soon can form the nucleus of what must become a mass movement.
As White Nationalists I recognise the NF; the BDP; England First; British Movement; National Action and the various ‘Infidel’ style groups spread throughout the country. and the Alternative Right Forums which are doing great work and some elements of what’s left of the BNP.
Two organisations I would NOT add are the pro-Zionist Britain First Party and the ludicrous New British Union which has stated it is not a racial Nationalist Party and indeed I am led to believe that its prime member has condoned mixed race marriages.
Now you will be saying ‘Hang on but….” about some of the groups I have listed. That is the wrong way of thinking about the desperate need for British Nationalist Unity.
All old personality clashes, some dating back decades MUST come to an end for the greater good of the Cause itself.
I have to make a case for what a United Front should be – and I have to conclude it MUST be the National Front.
50 years ago this coming February, the NF was formed by disparate groups who patched up their differences and created the National Front.
I would argue then that there is no need for another name to be thrown into the barrel because the NF with its wide range of policies has something to offer all the varying shades of opinion across the British Nationalist Spectrum.
This is why we have seen so many others rise only to fall after a few years whilst the resilient NF soldiers on.
2017 is a watershed year for our Movement. It marks in February our 50th Anniversary. This will take the form of the biggest indoor rally we can mount and this is an open invite for all these groups mentioned to be welcomed by the Front.
On strategy and tactics there is always room for manoeuvre and I believe that the NF’s policy of elections coupled with constant Street activity is a winning formula.
The Trump phenomenon in the USA; Brexit and the rise of the Alt Right across Europe and America is growing so strong that we can really call it the first real challenge to the Globalist Tyrants such as the Jewish George Soros and the evil of Hilary Clinton.
The victories of the Alt Right must be seen as a breakthrough against the Liberal Marxist Hegemony and behind the Alt Right there is us – the Racial Nationalists.
Let them open the door for such as we so that it gives us entry to go up against the World Enemy of old but this time with a real chance of victory.
Time is running out fast for our White Race so the choice is YOURS – Victory through Unity or White Racial Genocide.
It is with sadness that we learn of the death of Peter Mullins on 28th July 2016.
Peter was a proud ex-serviceman and a charismatic nationalist. Someone who could grab and engage an audience. At our St. George’s Day celebrations his enthusiasm and wit could be relied upon to keep everyone entertained; whether through patriotic speaking, or by organising and acting as quiz master.
Peter’s dedication to nationalism was second to none, working tirelessly and giving his time and money with generosity.
Born in 1936, he was brought up and educated in East Anglia, Luton and Cambridge.
In the late 1950s he joined the Royal Air Force and for many years after he was a member of the Conservative Party.
After leaving the Royal Air Force, Peter worked for many years in North Africa, the Middle East and Pakistan for both Arab and British companies as manager and coordinator for large, heavy electrical and construction projects for foreign governments. During this time he worked and lived in Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates and Iran.
He returned to the U.K. in the early 1980s when he began another career with Ford Motor Company developing Sales and Marketing corporate training and strategies.
In the late 1990s he relocated to Cornwall as the curator of the Daphne du Maurier and Smugglers’ Museums, at the famous “Jamaica Inn” hotel complex at Bolventor, on Bodmin Moor.
At this time that he became completely disenchanted with the political systems in place in our country, ditched the Conservative party and joined the British National Party.
Quickly becoming the BNP Western area organiser, covering from the Solent (Portsmouth/Southampton) to Bristol down to Lands End, he was also a member of the party’s Advisory Council and stood for County Council and for Parliament.
Peter was also a founder of the British Freedom Party and the first chairman. It was well organised and grew quickly, but unfortunately events out of Peter’s hands led to the party’s collapse.
Friends of Peter’s are keen to add their memories.
Brin Jenkins (ex organiser for Cornwall) was a friend of Peter’s for a number of years….
“I held him in high regard. We had similar early backgrounds having both been in the RAF as boys and in similar radio electronic trades. Peter was awarded a commission and became an Electronics officer flying in a number of Cold War aircraft like Nimrods and Vulcans. I met him when I joined the BNP and he was the Western area organiser. He worked hard and conscientiously in this role seeing the party go from strength to strength. Peter will be missed, a staunch nationalist without compromise. His watch is over: RIP my friend”.
Roger Bennett, another close friend….
“Peter was a passionate nationalist who put himself forward in parliamentary elections many times. Being a clone of Enoch Powell, the most memorable was 2009.
Peter stood in Enoch Powell’s old constituency in Wolverhampton, West Midlands. A poster showing a picture of Peter with only these words at the top. HE’S BACK and at the bottom VOTE BNP. This was very effective with Peter securing a high vote for the party.
Peter was a very good speaker, he spoke with passion and superb diction and always with wit and humour. I had him as an after dinner speaker who could always be relied on to be informative and very funny with it.
One time on Euston station, he spotted Peter Ustinov. Peter approached him and asked are you Peter Ustinov? Do I owe you money? Was the reply. NO said Peter.
Well in that case I am he. They had a long conversation both amusing each other.
Away from politics he was a talented golfer who loved the game and played up to the time of his death. One didn’t play Peter for money if your wallet was light. He was very well known in the golfing world and many people will also miss him greatly.
I have lost friend whom I shall miss”.
Peter read the famous “Rivers of Blood” speech delivered by Powell back in 1968 in the very same Birmingham hotel where Powell had addressed his Conservative Party conference.
The entire speech can be heard on
I had known Peter long enough to know he was a committed, honest and true Englishman and he will be sadly missed not just by those who knew him and the nationalist movement, but by those Britons yet to recognise their own, ever growing, funeral pyre.
Peter Mullins RIP.
My thanks also to Adrian Romilly and Dave Perkins for their contributions.
Editor’s note: Sadly we have also recently heard of the deaths of two staunch nationalists and H&D subscribers from Worcestershire: Michael Carr, from Kidderminster, aged 70; and Tom Hickman, from Stourbridge, aged 83.
Among all the acres of newsprint presently devoted to Brexit and its consequences, one of the most perceptive articles is by veteran political journalist Stephen Glover in the Daily Mail.
After noting Jeremy Corbyn’s extraordinary betrayal of his own principles – the Labour leader has spent most of his life as a committed opponent of the European Union, yet half-heartedly campaigned for Remain rather than taking a principled stand at the head of Labour’s small pro-Leave faction – Glover writes:
The reason he failed to do so was not simply a kind of bumbling cowardice. Ensconced in his Islington redoubt, he is surrounded by metropolitan lefties such as his neo-Stalinist director of strategy, the former Guardian journalist and Winchester College-educated Seumas Milne, who neither know nor care about Labour’s working-class voters.
Corbyn is unable to relate to their fears. In his handbook of international socialism, immigration is an unalloyed good which must be promoted at every opportunity. It doesn’t matter to him or to his advisers that millions of Labour voters have seen their wage rates undercut by EU workers, and pressure placed on their schools, hospitals and GP surgeries by uncontrollable EU migration.
I’ve no doubt, too, that Corbyn can’t understand the deep patriotism — and the desire not to be bullied by bloodless Brussels-based Eurocrats — which so many of these decent people feel. His neighbouring Labour MP in Islington, whom he has promoted to be Shadow Defence Secretary notwithstanding her almost total ignorance of her brief, is Emily Thornberry.
Having been sacked from the Shadow Cabinet by Ed Miliband after she had sneeringly tweeted a picture of a family home draped with flags of St George, her banishment did not last long. Corbyn obligingly rehabilitated her soon after his election as Leader.
His almost bone-headed inability to grasp the effects of mass immigration on working-class communities was paraded by him in the most shaming way last Sunday on BBC1’s The Andrew Marr Show.
Having loftily blamed the pressure on housing and schools on the Tory Government’s spending cuts, he asserted with absurd myopia: ‘There is no “uncontrolled immigration”. There is freedom of movement that goes both ways: more than two million British people are living in Europe.’ No wonder Labour supporters voted as they did!
To read Glover’s full article, click here.
I received this email over the weekend from a comrade in Leeds.
Sad news today, that an old comrade and NS activist Beefy Taylor from Leeds died today of cancer. He’d been very ill for a while and this news has brought tears to my eyes as did seeing him when he was ill. I will not remember Beefy’s last few months, I will always remember him as a brave street fighter for the National Front, one who terrified the reds and flew our flag wherever he wanted to. Rest in peace comrade Beefy, see you in Valhalla!
KW – Leeds, Yorkshire.
“Beefy” died of cancer, in a hospice in Headingley, Leeds this weekend, aged only 52. He was an active nationalist in his native Leeds, for almost all his adult life.
Keith – known as Beefy to most of his friends (for obvious reasons if you knew him!) – was the younger brother of Pete, a former Leeds NF branch organizer in the 1980s, and came from a real family of nationalists. His father Bob (who will be better known to nationalists from outside Yorkshire) ran Leeds branch for many years and his mother, sister Karen, sister-in-law, and brother-in-law also served on the Leeds committee at times over the years – a real family of Leeds nationalists.
I knew Beefy’s brother Pete better, as for a couple of years Pete was stationed in Plymouth, with in the Royal Navy; at the time I was South West organizer for the NF. Pete would travel up from Plymouth to Torquay/Exeter to meet us for NF activities. Pete served in the Royal Navy for nine years and served in the Falklands War.
Beefy travelled down from Leeds to Exeter once to take us on at football! A Leeds NF XI played a Devon NF team. I can’t remember a whole lot about the game, which took place on a proper rented football pitch, apart from the fact that Leeds NF (like Leeds United!) were not the cleanest of teams, and not many of our side wanted to tackle Beefy! As you would expect Leeds NF won, but we didn’t hold that against them and enjoyed an enjoyable few drinks with them afterwards.
Beefy and Pete sold nationalist papers for many years in Leeds city centre and also at Elland Road, home of Leeds United F.C., every home game. And like many nationalists they were regulars at Elland Road until they started signing loads of black players and getting involved in anti-racism campaigns.
In fact Pete wrote to the club to object. The club said they didn’t want support like his and offered to refund his season ticket. A man of principle he took them up on their offer, but he couldn’t bring himself to support any of Leeds’ West Yorkshire rivals so he started travelling to Scarborough to support the local team there – Scarborough Athletic. Two years before he died he moved to Scarborough where he continued to support the football team and also helped the local BNP group to get off the ground.
Beefy however stayed in Leeds, and not being a big fan of Nick Griffin and his modernising, kept out of the post-John Tyndall BNP for the most part. He still supported JT and was there outside the Court, for the famous Race Hate trial in Leeds, shortly before JT died. I remember being in the pub afterwards with Beefy, JT, Richard Edmonds and myself all having a drink and going over the day’s events.
Beefy was a good nationalist. He will be sorely missed.
A full obituary to Keith Taylor will appear in a future issue of Heritage and Destiny magazine.
Phil Andrews was one of the leading young activists in the National Front during the 1980s, closely associated with the ‘political soldier’ or ‘cadre’ faction alongside Derek Holland, Nick Griffin and the Italian fugitive Roberto Fiore. They were perhaps best known for their support of the Libyan dictator Colonel Gadaffi.
This faction became the ‘International Third Position’ at the end of the 1980s, and after its collapse Phil Andrews renounced nationalism while staying in politics as a community activist in West London.
Mr Andrews himself was elected as a councillor and the residents group he helped create – known as the Independent Community Group – eventually held the balance of power with six seats in the London Borough of Hounslow. Ironically (for someone who was once counted among the most ‘radical’ of NF activists), Cllr Andrews and his colleagues used their positions to form a local coalition with the Conservatives.
In 2010 all of the ICG councillors were defeated and they failed to regain any seats at the next elections in 2014. Now the party has been wound up.
Phil Andrews told his local newspaper:
“We are clearly entering into a new phase. Where we had hoped to persuade the powers that be that engagement with an active and organised community could be mutually beneficial, what we appear to have done is to have hardened attitudes.
“Their (Hounslow Labour Party) response to losing elections to local residents was to draft in outside help, using the sophisticated national machine at their disposal to smother local efforts.
“And in office their attitude has been to deceive, coerce and bully rather than to listen, as the disgraceful harassment of community activist Paul Slattery in Brentford has demonstrated.
“In response, the community has mobilised, but that mobilisation has risen organically from a variety of sources rather than from one organised body. That mobilisation needs to be supported and its momentum maintained. To be frank the ICG approach had become dated and predictable.”
We greatly regret to announce the death today in Adelaide, Australia, of H&D‘s great friend, comrade and patron Jock Spooner.
Jock will be remembered by many readers as a dynamic NF organiser in Birmingham during the 1970s.
Born on St George’s Day in 1943, he had worked in Australia for many years before retirement, and remained a generous supporter of nationalist causes right up to his last moment. Despite years of serious illness, Jock had an active retirement, travelling the world to pursue his interests in history and archaeology. He was a loyal and valued supporter of many good causes, including the Australian academic Dr Fred Töben who was infamously threatened with extradition from London to Germany in 2008 under a European Arrest Warrant.
Several of Jock’s old mates including the H&D team will be raising a glass or three in his memory later today. A full obituary will appear in the next edition of the magazine.
In the March 2016 issue of Heritage and Destiny we feature an article on Ulster by Enoch Powell – an article which was first commissioned, then suppressed by Mrs Thatcher’s government, which was already involved in pursuing a treacherous deal with the IRA.
Enoch Powell served as Ulster Unionist MP for South Down from 1974 to 1987, having previously been a senior Conservative politician until he was forced out of the Tory party for his 1968 speech on immigration.
This speech – delivered to Birmingham’s Conservative Association on April 20th 1968 – became known as the “rivers of blood” speech (though that phrase never appears), because Powell had quoted lines from the Roman poet Virgil, who wrote of the Sibyl of Cumae (a prophetic priestess) warning the Trojan hero Aeneas that she sees a vision of the River Tiber (on which Aeneas is about to found Rome) “foaming with much blood”. (Thybrim multo spumantem sanguine cerno). The line appears in Book VI, Line 87 of Virgil’s Aeneid.
There follows the complete text of Powell’s 1968 speech:
The supreme function of statesmanship is to provide against preventable evils. In seeking to do so, it encounters obstacles which are deeply rooted in human nature.
One is that by the very order of things such evils are not demonstrable until they have occurred: at each stage in their onset there is room for doubt and for dispute whether they be real or imaginary. By the same token, they attract little attention in comparison with current troubles, which are both indisputable and pressing: whence the besetting temptation of all politics to concern itself with the immediate present at the expense of the future.
Above all, people are disposed to mistake predicting troubles for causing troubles and even for desiring troubles: “If only,” they love to think, “if only people wouldn’t talk about it, it probably wouldn’t happen.”
Perhaps this habit goes back to the primitive belief that the word and the thing, the name and the object, are identical.
At all events, the discussion of future grave but, with effort now, avoidable evils is the most unpopular and at the same time the most necessary occupation for the politician. Those who knowingly shirk it deserve, and not infrequently receive, the curses of those who come after.
A week or two ago I fell into conversation with a constituent, a middle-aged, quite ordinary working man employed in one of our nationalised industries.
After a sentence or two about the weather, he suddenly said: “If I had the money to go, I wouldn’t stay in this country.” I made some deprecatory reply to the effect that even this government wouldn’t last for ever; but he took no notice, and continued: “I have three children, all of them been through grammar school and two of them married now, with family. I shan’t be satisfied till I have seen them all settled overseas. In this country in 15 or 20 years’ time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.”
I can already hear the chorus of execration. How dare I say such a horrible thing? How dare I stir up trouble and inflame feelings by repeating such a conversation?
The answer is that I do not have the right not to do so. Here is a decent, ordinary fellow Englishman, who in broad daylight in my own town says to me, his Member of Parliament, that his country will not be worth living in for his children.
I simply do not have the right to shrug my shoulders and think about something else. What he is saying, thousands and hundreds of thousands are saying and thinking – not throughout Great Britain, perhaps, but in the areas that are already undergoing the total transformation to which there is no parallel in a thousand years of English history.
In 15 or 20 years, on present trends, there will be in this country three and a half million Commonwealth immigrants and their descendants. That is not my figure. That is the official figure given to parliament by the spokesman of the Registrar General’s Office.
There is no comparable official figure for the year 2000, but it must be in the region of five to seven million, approximately one-tenth of the whole population, and approaching that of Greater London. Of course, it will not be evenly distributed from Margate to Aberystwyth and from Penzance to Aberdeen. Whole areas, towns and parts of towns across England will be occupied by sections of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population.
As time goes on, the proportion of this total who are immigrant descendants, those born in England, who arrived here by exactly the same route as the rest of us, will rapidly increase.
Already by 1985 the native-born would constitute the majority. It is this fact which creates the extreme urgency of action now, of just that kind of action which is hardest for politicians to take, action where the difficulties lie in the present but the evils to be prevented or minimised lie several parliaments ahead.
The natural and rational first question with a nation confronted by such a prospect is to ask: “How can its dimensions be reduced?” Granted it be not wholly preventable, can it be limited, bearing in mind that numbers are of the essence: the significance and consequences of an alien element introduced into a country or population are profoundly different according to whether that element is 1 per cent or 10 per cent.
The answers to the simple and rational question are equally simple and rational: by stopping, or virtually stopping, further inflow, and by promoting the maximum outflow. Both answers are part of the official policy of the Conservative Party.
It almost passes belief that at this moment 20 or 30 additional immigrant children are arriving from overseas in Wolverhampton alone every week – and that means 15 or 20 additional families a decade or two hence. Those whom the gods wish to destroy, they first make mad. We must be mad, literally mad, as a nation to be permitting the annual inflow of some 50,000 dependants, who are for the most part the material of the future growth of the immigrant-descended population. It is like watching a nation busily engaged in heaping up its own funeral pyre. So insane are we that we actually permit unmarried persons to immigrate for the purpose of founding a family with spouses and fiancés whom they have never seen.
Let no one suppose that the flow of dependants will automatically tail off. On the contrary, even at the present admission rate of only 5,000 a year by voucher, there is sufficient for a further 25,000 dependants per annum ad infinitum, without taking into account the huge reservoir of existing relations in this country – and I am making no allowance at all for fraudulent entry. In these circumstances nothing will suffice but that the total inflow for settlement should be reduced at once to negligible proportions, and that the necessary legislative and administrative measures be taken without delay.
I stress the words “for settlement.” This has nothing to do with the entry of Commonwealth citizens, any more than of aliens, into this country, for the purposes of study or of improving their qualifications, like (for instance) the Commonwealth doctors who, to the advantage of their own countries, have enabled our hospital service to be expanded faster than would otherwise have been possible. They are not, and never have been, immigrants.
I turn to re-emigration. If all immigration ended tomorrow, the rate of growth of the immigrant and immigrant-descended population would be substantially reduced, but the prospective size of this element in the population would still leave the basic character of the national danger unaffected. This can only be tackled while a considerable proportion of the total still comprises persons who entered this country during the last ten years or so.
Hence the urgency of implementing now the second element of the Conservative Party’s policy: the encouragement of re-emigration.
Nobody can make an estimate of the numbers which, with generous assistance, would choose either to return to their countries of origin or to go to other countries anxious to receive the manpower and the skills they represent.
Nobody knows, because no such policy has yet been attempted. I can only say that, even at present, immigrants in my own constituency from time to time come to me, asking if I can find them assistance to return home. If such a policy were adopted and pursued with the determination which the gravity of the alternative justifies, the resultant outflow could appreciably alter the prospects.
The third element of the Conservative Party’s policy is that all who are in this country as citizens should be equal before the law and that there shall be no discrimination or difference made between them by public authority. As Mr Heath has put it we will have no “first-class citizens” and “second-class citizens.”
This does not mean that the immigrant and his descendent should be elevated into a privileged or special class or that the citizen should be denied his right to discriminate in the management of his own affairs between one fellow-citizen and another or that he should be subjected to imposition as to his reasons and motive for behaving in one lawful manner rather than another.
There could be no grosser misconception of the realities than is entertained by those who vociferously demand legislation as they call it “against discrimination”, whether they be leader-writers of the same kidney and sometimes on the same newspapers which year after year in the 1930s tried to blind this country to the rising peril which confronted it, or archbishops who live in palaces, faring delicately with the bedclothes pulled right up over their heads. They have got it exactly and diametrically wrong.
The discrimination and the deprivation, the sense of alarm and of resentment, lies not with the immigrant population but with those among whom they have come and are still coming.
This is why to enact legislation of the kind before parliament at this moment is to risk throwing a match on to gunpowder. The kindest thing that can be said about those who propose and support it is that they know not what they do.
Nothing is more misleading than comparison between the Commonwealth immigrant in Britain and the American Negro. The Negro population of the United States, which was already in existence before the United States became a nation, started literally as slaves and were later given the franchise and other rights of citizenship, to the exercise of which they have only gradually and still incompletely come. The Commonwealth immigrant came to Britain as a full citizen, to a country which knew no discrimination between one citizen and another, and he entered instantly into the possession of the rights of every citizen, from the vote to free treatment under the National Health Service.
Whatever drawbacks attended the immigrants arose not from the law or from public policy or from administration, but from those personal circumstances and accidents which cause, and always will cause, the fortunes and experience of one man to be different from another’s.
But while, to the immigrant, entry to this country was admission to privileges and opportunities eagerly sought, the impact upon the existing population was very different. For reasons which they could not comprehend, and in pursuance of a decision by default, on which they were never consulted, they found themselves made strangers in their own country.
They found their wives unable to obtain hospital beds in childbirth, their children unable to obtain school places, their homes and neighbourhoods changed beyond recognition, their plans and prospects for the future defeated; at work they found that employers hesitated to apply to the immigrant worker the standards of discipline and competence required of the native-born worker; they began to hear, as time went by, more and more voices which told them that they were now the unwanted.
They now learn that a one-way privilege is to be established by act of parliament; a law which cannot, and is not intended to, operate to protect them or redress their grievances is to be enacted to give the stranger, the disgruntled and the agent-provocateur the power to pillory them for their private actions.
In the hundreds upon hundreds of letters I received when I last spoke on this subject two or three months ago, there was one striking feature which was largely new and which I find ominous. All Members of Parliament are used to the typical anonymous correspondent; but what surprised and alarmed me was the high proportion of ordinary, decent, sensible people, writing a rational and often well-educated letter, who believed that they had to omit their address because it was dangerous to have committed themselves to paper to a Member of Parliament agreeing with the views I had expressed, and that they would risk penalties or reprisals if they were known to have done so. The sense of being a persecuted minority which is growing among ordinary English people in the areas of the country which are affected is something that those without direct experience can hardly imagine.
I am going to allow just one of those hundreds of people to speak for me:
“Eight years ago in a respectable street in Wolverhampton a house was sold to a Negro. Now only one white (a woman old-age pensioner) lives there. This is her story. She lost her husband and both her sons in the war. So she turned her seven-roomed house, her only asset, into a boarding house. She worked hard and did well, paid off her mortgage and began to put something by for her old age. Then the immigrants moved in. With growing fear, she saw one house after another taken over. The quiet street became a place of noise and confusion. Regretfully, her white tenants moved out.
“The day after the last one left, she was awakened at 7am by two Negroes who wanted to use her ‘phone to contact their employer. When she refused, as she would have refused any stranger at such an hour, she was abused and feared she would have been attacked but for the chain on her door. Immigrant families have tried to rent rooms in her house, but she always refused. Her little store of money went, and after paying rates, she has less than £2 per week.
“She went to apply for a rate reduction and was seen by a young girl, who on hearing she had a seven-roomed house, suggested she should let part of it. When she said the only people she could get were Negroes, the girl said, “Racial prejudice won’t get you anywhere in this country.” So she went home.
“The telephone is her lifeline. Her family pay the bill, and help her out as best they can. Immigrants have offered to buy her house – at a price which the prospective landlord would be able to recover from his tenants in weeks, or at most a few months. She is becoming afraid to go out. Windows are broken. She finds excreta pushed through her letter box. When she goes to the shops, she is followed by children, charming, wide-grinning piccaninnies. They cannot speak English, but one word they know. “Racialist,” they chant. When the new Race Relations Bill is passed, this woman is convinced she will go to prison. And is she so wrong? I begin to wonder.”
The other dangerous delusion from which those who are wilfully or otherwise blind to realities suffer, is summed up in the word “integration.” To be integrated into a population means to become for all practical purposes indistinguishable from its other members.
Now, at all times, where there are marked physical differences, especially of colour, integration is difficult though, over a period, not impossible. There are among the Commonwealth immigrants who have come to live here in the last fifteen years or so, many thousands whose wish and purpose is to be integrated and whose every thought and endeavour is bent in that direction.
But to imagine that such a thing enters the heads of a great and growing majority of immigrants and their descendants is a ludicrous misconception, and a dangerous one.
We are on the verge here of a change. Hitherto it has been force of circumstance and of background which has rendered the very idea of integration inaccessible to the greater part of the immigrant population – that they never conceived or intended such a thing, and that their numbers and physical concentration meant the pressures towards integration which normally bear upon any small minority did not operate.
Now we are seeing the growth of positive forces acting against integration, of vested interests in the preservation and sharpening of racial and religious differences, with a view to the exercise of actual domination, first over fellow-immigrants and then over the rest of the population. The cloud no bigger than a man’s hand, that can so rapidly overcast the sky, has been visible recently in Wolverhampton and has shown signs of spreading quickly. The words I am about to use, verbatim as they appeared in the local press on 17 February, are not mine, but those of a Labour Member of Parliament who is a minister in the present government:
‘The Sikh communities’ campaign to maintain customs inappropriate in Britain is much to be regretted. Working in Britain, particularly in the public services, they should be prepared to accept the terms and conditions of their employment. To claim special communal rights (or should one say rites?) leads to a dangerous fragmentation within society. This communalism is a canker; whether practised by one colour or another it is to be strongly condemned.’
All credit to John Stonehouse for having had the insight to perceive that, and the courage to say it.
For these dangerous and divisive elements the legislation proposed in the Race Relations Bill is the very pabulum they need to flourish. Here is the means of showing that the immigrant communities can organise to consolidate their members, to agitate and campaign against their fellow citizens, and to overawe and dominate the rest with the legal weapons which the ignorant and the ill-informed have provided. As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see “the River Tiber foaming with much blood.”
That tragic and intractable phenomenon which we watch with horror on the other side of the Atlantic but which there is interwoven with the history and existence of the States itself, is coming upon us here by our own volition and our own neglect. Indeed, it has all but come. In numerical terms, it will be of American proportions long before the end of the century.
Only resolute and urgent action will avert it even now. Whether there will be the public will to demand and obtain that action, I do not know. All I know is that to see, and not to speak, would be the great betrayal.
We now have DVDs from this year’s (2015) John Tyndall Memorial Meeting for sale.
The meeting was professionally filmed and edited, and is of excellent quality. It’s on 2 DVDs and lasts around 3 hours, including footage from almost every speaker.
To order your copy please send a cheque/postal order for £15.00 (which includes postage) to:
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One of the true giants of the worldwide movement to defend the white race – Willis Carto – died on Monday 26th October at the age of 89, having been an active publisher of the Barnes Review and American Free Press to the end.
Everyone who believes in historical truth and free debate owes a tremendous debt to Willis Carto, though one of his most lasting political memorials will perhaps be his Introduction to Francis Parker Yockey’s classic Imperium. Carto knew Yockey well, and was one of his last visitors in prison before the latter’s death in 1960. We republish that Introduction below.
Further details of Willis Carto’s life and work can be read elsewhere on this site in a review by H&D’s assistant editor Peter Rushton of Dr George Michael’s book, Willis Carto and the American Far Right. This review appeared in the January 2009 edition of Heritage and Destiny (Issue 35).
IMPERIUM: The Introduction
By Willis A. Carto
Dimly, I could make out the form of this man—this strange and lonely man—through the thickwire netting. Inwardly, I cursed these heavy screens that prevented our confrontation. For even though our mutual host was the San Francisco County Jail, and even though the man upon whom I was calling was locked in equality with petty thieves and criminals, I knew that I was in the presence of a great force, and I could feel History standing aside me.
Yesterday, the headlines had exploded their sensational discovery. “MYSTERY MAN WITH THREE PASSPORTS JAILED HERE,” they screamed. A man of mystery—of wickedness—had been captured. A man given to dark deeds and—much worse—forbidden thoughts, too, the journalists squealed. A man who had roamed the earth on mysterious missions and who was found to be so dangerous that his bail was set for $50,000—a figure ten or twenty times the normal bail for passport fraud. The excitement of the newspapers and the mystery of it all seemed to indicate that this desperado was an international gangster, or a top communist agent.
At least, this is what the papers hinted. But I know now that it erred in many ways, this “free press” of ours. I know now that the only real crime of Francis Parker Yockey was to write a book, and for this he had to die.
It is always impossible, of course, to come to grips with the essence of greatness. There are the known facts of a great life, but facts are dead and almost mute when we seek the essential reality of a creative personality. But let us review some of the facts we know of a life which is at once significant, fascinating and tragic.
Francis Parker Yockey was born in Chicago in 1917. He attended American universities, taking a B.A. degree in 1938 and, three years later, a degree in law from Notre Dame, where he was graduated cum laude.
From earliest childhood, Yockey was recognized for his prodigious abilities, and resented for them by many. History may reveal that the combination of originality and high intelligence in rare individuals is essential for human progress, but we mortals find these qualities more admired in biographies than in classmates, friends and underlings.
Yockey was a concert-level pianist; he was a gifted writer. He studied languages and became a linguist. As a lawyer, he never lost a case. He had an extraordinary grasp of the world of finance—and this is surprising, for we learn that in his philosophy economics is relegated to a relatively unimportant position. And it is as the philosopher that Yockey reached the summit; it is this for which he will be remembered; he was a man of incredible vision. Even so, his personality was spiced by the precious gift of a sense of humor.
Like the great majority of Americans, Yockey opposed American intervention in the Second World War. Nevertheless, he joined the army and served until 1942 when he received a medical discharge (honorable). The next few years were spent in the practice of law, first in Illinois and subsequently in Detroit, where he was appointed Assistant County Attorney for Wayne County, Michigan.
In 1946, Yockey was offered a job with the war crimes tribunal and went to Europe. He was assigned to Wiesbaden, where the “second string” Nazis were lined up for trial and punishment. The Europe of 1946 was a war-ravaged continent, not the prosperous land we know today. Viewing the carnage, and seeing with his own eyes the visible effects of the unspeakable Morgenthau Plan which had as its purpose the starvation of 30 million Germans, and which was being put into effect at that time, he no doubt found ample reinforcement for his conviction that American involvement in the war had been a ghastly mistake. And feeling the might of the sinister power in the East, he might well have wondered whose interests were being served by such a “victory.”
As Senator Robert A. Taft and many other responsible and thinking men of the day who had the courage to state their convictions, Yockey concluded that the entire procedure of the “war crimes trials” was serving the interests—and was meant to serve the interests—of international communism. The use of torture, doctored evidence and ex-post-facto law before a court which was judge, jury, prosecutor and defense were merely part of the preposterous juridical aspects. Of even more importance was the reversion to barbarism which was inherent in the spectacle—a reversion so pointedly explored later by Britisher F.J.P. Veale in Advance to Barbarism.
For eleven months, Yockey’s duty in Wiesbaden was to prepare reports on the various cases. Having a long view of history, he tried to do an objective job. Finally, in Washington, someone complained, and his superior called him on the carpet. “We don’t want this type of report,” he was told. “This has entirely the wrong slant. You’ll have to rewrite these reports to conform with the official viewpoint.”
Yockey felt that the time had come to take a stand, even if it meant to break with conformity and plunge into the lonely waters of social ostracism. “I am a lawyer, not a journalist,” he said, “you’ll have to write your own propaganda”; and he quit on the spot.
After Wiesbaden, he returned to America for five months. But following this taste ofweltpolitik he was unable to settle down. He could not ignore an insistent feeling that he must immolate himself in the flames of controversy. And this conviction so destroyed his peace of mind that he knew he had no choice.
It was late 1947 when Yockey returned to Europe. He sought out a quiet inn at Brittas Bay, Ireland. Isolated, he struggled to begin. Finally, he started to write, and in six months—working entirely without notes—Francis Parker Yockey completed Imperium.
The formidable task of publishing it was the next step. Here, also, Yockey ran into serious problems, for no publisher would touch the book, it being too “controversial.” Hungry publishers of our advanced day know that any pile of trash, filth, sex, sadism, perversion and sickness will sell when wrapped between two gaudy covers and called a book, but under no circumstance may they allow readers to come into contact with a serious work unless it contains the standard obeisances to the catchwords of equality, democracy and universal brotherhood.
Finally, however, Yockey was able to secure the necessary financing, and production began.
The first edition of Imperium was issued in two volumes. Volume I has 405 pages and three chapters. Volume II has 280 pages and also three chapters. Both were published in 1948 in the name of Westropa Press. Volume I was printed by C.A. Brooks & Co., Ltd. and Volume II by Jones & Dale—both of London. Both volumes measure 5 x 7 inches in dimensions and have a red dust jacket with the title in black script on a white field. The cover of Volume I is tan and that of Volume II is black.
It is known that 1,000 copies of Volume I, but only 200 copies of Volume II, were finished. The discrepancy in quantity and the change in printers point to the difficulty in financing the job. Copies of the first edition are, of course, virtually unobtainable today.
The rarest combination in man is that of the philosopher and man of action. When Yockey tried his hand at political organization he proved that he was no exception to the rule—or was it that the times then were too out of joint with the future for a constructive movement to be started? Organizing the European Liberation Front in 1949, he and friends issued a manifesto called The Proclamation of London. But outside of getting beaten up in Hyde Park, nothing much happened. And here again he encountered the old trouble. Even among the forward-looking intellectuals and individualists who were his co-workers, his brilliance shone through. He was resented, and the effort soon collapsed.
His money and immediate hopes gone, Yockey procured a job with the Red Cross. He resigned in 1951 and traveled throughout Europe.
In 1952 the State Department refused to renew his passport. Repeatedly, he applied; each time he was rejected. A game then developed between the FBI and Yockey, for the FBI had received orders to keep him under surveillance at all times. This is a pattern which has since become obvious to vigorous anti-communists in all parts of the United States, especially in the South. When Yockey’s whereabouts was known, the FBI would watch him night and day. When he dropped temporarily from sight, as he did frequently, his friends and relatives and contacts were constantly interrogated by agents who—they kept repeating—“just want to talk to him.” And this was undoubtedly the truth. This is all they wanted to do. They just wanted to know where he was, what he was doing, whom he was seeing, what he was saying and where he was going next.
Why, you ask? Why all the interest in Francis Parker Yockey, author? He himself gave the answer to a friend. “My enemies have evaluated me better than my friends,” he said, and it was true.
And as I peered through the thick screens in the San Francisco Jail, and made out the indefinite shape on the other side, that tenth day of June, 1960, I knew that I would have to help the prisoner as best I could. I could do nothing else.
“I have read your book,” I said to the shadow, “and I want to help you. What can I do?”
“Wait,” he said. “Wait, and do as your conscience tells you.”
The following week was full of news of Yockey’s appearance before Rabbi Joseph Karesh, the U.S. commissioner.
Twice, I attended the hearings, and each time was fascinated by this man, Yockey. In stature he was about five feet, ten inches. He was light of weight, perhaps 145 pounds, and quick on his feet. His hair was dark and starting to gray. The expression on his face—pensive, sensitive, magnetic—this was the unforgettable thing. It was his eyes, I think. Dark, with a quick and knowing intelligence. His eyes bespoke great secrets and knowledge and such terrible sadness. As he turned to leave, one time, those eyes quickly searched the room, darting from face to face with a sort of desperation, though the expression on his face of a determined resignation never wavered. What was he looking for? In that lion’s den, what else but a friendly countenance? As his gaze swept across, and then to me, he stopped and for the space of a fractional second, spoke to me with his eyes. In that instant we understood that I would not desert him.
Friday morning, June 17, I arose as usual. I heard the radio announcer pronounce words that stunned me.
Yockey was dead.
“I’ll sleep through till morning” was the cryptic message he gave his cellmate. Was the morning he anticipated the dawn of a new age?
A garbled note was found. The coroner declared it suicide and said the poison was potassium cyanide. No one knew where he had gotten it. The case was closed.
As Americans, we have been taught from infancy to believe that we live in free country. But times change, and America has become transformed in many ways. Often, the old formalities are observed, but the meaning and inner reality of America has changed, and no one saw this more clearly than Francis Parker Yockey. How the press, for example, loves to brag to its victims—its readers—about its freedom. Yes, the press may be free to lie and distort and suppress and deceive and malign, but is it free to tell the truth?
The spectacle of a man being persecuted, framed and driven to his death simply because he wrote a book is not one we would expect to see in the Twentieth Century in the land of the free and the home of the brave.
But are we free when an American citizen whose only crime was to write a book is denied a passport by the State Department—a privilege which is given to all but the most notorious degenerates and criminals? It was not until April 24, 1962, that the State Department finally got around to beginning hearings to deny passports to the most important communists—but the “free press” somehow forgot to report at the time that no report of a confidential nature from the FBI or any other source would be used against a communist unless he was given the “right” of confrontation with his accuser. And, of course, the right of appeal would be scrupulously honored, even then.
Are we free when a citizen can be arrested without a warrant and held in jail without charges, but with the fantastic bail of $50,000 levied against him? Are we free when the vultures of the “free press” can swoop down upon the victim to heap calumny and scorn upon his head and accuse him of doing things he never did and saying things he never said in an effort to build up “public opinion” against him? Is America a free country when a sensitive genius can be held in the filthiest of jails with Negro and White criminals and is denied even clean clothes and a bath? Are we free when such a “criminal” is not allowed to see his sisters in private, and when a group which has supposedly been set up to defend the constitutional rights of citizens—the American Civil Liberties Union—would rather defend the “rights” of homosexuals, traitors, murderers and pornographers than a sincere patriot like Francis Parker Yockey, whose every thought and effort was in behalf of his fellow man? Are we free, I ask, when a judge can rule a prisoner is not to have a “speedy and public trial by an impartial jury . . .,” as guaranteed in the Bill of Rights, but instead, must have a mental examination for the obvious purpose of eliminating a jury trial altogether? And finally, are we free when another group—vastly more powerful than the ACLU or the government itself—so powerful, indeed, that men dare not speak its name above a whisper, unless in terms of the most groveling praise—are we free when this group is able to dictate to the government the exact procedure which is to be used in disposing of troublemakers like Francis Parker Yockey?
If such things as I have enumerated can happen—and they did—then our vaunted “freedom” is a fake thing; an empty word given to us by our watchful masters to keep us amused and quiet—as a parent gives a shiny bauble to a child.
It is enlightening to review the standard means whereby our masters combat positive ideas and movements. There is a pattern in such tactics which constructive forces will do well to study. The first tactic is suppression and determined non-recognition of the rebel and his works. The press will unanimously give the well known “silent treatment.” Even at this early stage, if the movement gives promise of becoming significant, assassination is considered and carried out if possible. The murder of young Newton Armstrong, Jr., in San Diego, on the night of March 31, 1962, is a case in point. Quoting from Che Guevara’s book on guerrilla warfare and the question of when to resort to assassination:
It is generally against the policy of the Communist Party to resort to assassination. . . . However, it requires two criteria and a high-level policy decision. . . . The criteria for the individual in question are that he must be highly effective and it must serve some sort of example—some sort of a highly effective example.
The next tactic is the Smear through libel, distortion, misrepresentation and the sowing of confusion wherever possible. This may be a negative smear with the purpose of destroying the effectiveness of an enemy or a positive smear for the purpose of building a haze around the truth to enable a disintegrative movement to develop. The falsification of the truth about Castro which was indulged in by virtually all of the press and, of course, the State Department, is a classic example of this. The Smear is usually started as an underground whispering campaign that viciously builds up to an outright and overt campaign, with the “free press” called into play. The object is to isolate enemies of the present regime and discredit them. The third tactic is infiltration into the movement and/or the building up of false leadership in order to sabotage the movement at the optimum time, meanwhile diverting patriot energies into harmless or controlled activities. The fourth and final stage is called upon only as a last resort, after the movement or philosophy has become institutionalized and is immune to grosser tactics. This is to “interpret” it so as to bring it as closely as possible into conformity with approved patterns. (Characteristically, the conflicting philosophies of both Jesus Christ and Friedrich Nietzsche have suffered this deadening interpretation.) Two or more of the above maneuvers are usually used simultaneously. For instance, in addition to the suppression of his Imperium, Yockey was also victimized by the Smear; and he was also in danger of assassination—and his enigmatic end settled the problem. Now it is with no gift of prophecy that one may predict that this present republication of his work will call forth the same sequence.
I tell you that the injustice of it all is enough to drive one mad. How can a man stomach the cynical or ignorant drivel of liberals as they whine for “freedom of speech” and “right to dissent” and shake their bony fists at “conformity” and all the rest of their legerdemain when one knows that these moral cripples and ethical perverts demand their peculiar freedoms only for those who are working to destroy the West? We have seen their reaction when one committed to saving the West is in need of some of their medicine.
It was like a certain wise, old reporter whispered to one of Yockey’s sisters as she slumped tearfully and quietly in her solitude. “Your brother is a martyr—the first of a long line of them—if we are to take back our country from those who have stolen it from us.”
A surprising word on the Yockey affair came some weeks after his death, and was provided by the tight-lipped silence of the man who had been charged with railroading him to the insane asylum, the United States Attorney. Suddenly, inexplicably, he resigned his job, left his wife and children and joined a monastery.
Let us assume that at least one devoted servant of Democracy has a conscience, even if displayed a little late.
Please allow me to expose to you my prejudice so that there will be no misunderstanding. I favor the survival of our Western cultural organism. I love those who fight for the integrity of the West, whoever they may be. And, as much as I fear and mistrust the outer enemies of the West, I despise our inner enemies and the cowards who support them far more—and I hate their putrid doctrine that calls our continuing degradation “inevitable.”
Further, I believe that the West can survive. It all hinges on faith: faith in our future; faith in our superiority and survival. Skepticism, sophistication, cosmopolitanism, cynicism has destroyed the old faith, and it has not been replaced by a new one. But faith is and will always remain the essential ingredient in every historical force. Only a unifying faith can provide the common motivation for survival—the just and deep conviction of our right to live—and spark the single-minded and intolerant power which can clean and redeem our fast-decaying, rotting milieu. Very simply: the imperative of inspiring that faith is the central problem of our time.
And when I say, “survive,” I mean nothing more. For we are so far gone; our philosophies, liberties and cultural patterns are so perverted or eroded that bare survival is all that is possible. I mean to say that those who are to save the West must realize at the outset that only part of it can be saved; that much must be sacrificed and that the resulting structure will be different from the past. Those who have gone before have allowed the dank “winds of change” to corrode the old life, and many weeds have sprung up which cannot entirely be eliminated. It is one thing to fight for an attainable ideal, but another to sacrifice for a lost cause. In determining what is attainable and what is forever lost a philosophy of history is needed.
And although our job is to rebuild we must not lose sight of the reality, for we cannot rebuild until we have captured. Political power is the essential criterion, not wishes or windbags, and to the goal of political power all else must temporarily sacrificed. To say less is to ensure defeat. He who is on board a sinking ship in a storm may be required to throw all his possessions overboard if this is necessary for common survival. Or, to use another image: Those who would guide the West back across the Styx and out of the dark must travel first through the gates of Hell.
The practical problem of the recapture of political power divides itself into other questions. For one, is it possible to formulate an ethic and faith which, in itself, offers at least as much popular attractiveness as the painted lie of Marx? For another, how can those who would naturally lead such a movement compete with the highly developed Leninistic operational diabolism in the perpetually savage and untamable jungle of political warfare—or is it necessary to do so? After all, the conspiracy we face is the hideous monster spawned of four millenniums of experience in guile and deception; so much so, in fact, that its main ally always has been the obtuse blindness of those on whom it feeds. “Struggle” to a man of the West means bullets, armies and aircraft carriers. But to our enemy, international wars are of little meaning; “struggle” to him means not war but politics, and accordingly he has perfected his weapons in this most decisive of areas. Soldiers have never made good politicians, and, by the nature of their respective crafts, the soldier must always lose to the man of politics.
Finally comes the main consideration in formulating such a doctrine: will it certainly eradicate the politico-social evils and diseases of our day and lead mankind toward a better world?
It is by this standard and no other that you will, if you are wise, judge the work of Francis Parker Yockey.
To quit the search for such an ethic is to abandon history like the intellectual and spiritual nihilists—the liberals and beatniks. To quit the search is to turn over to the inner enemy carte blanche control over our lives, souls and fate.
The failure to provide this philosophy is not alone the fault of the saprophytes among us, however. Nor is it only the fault of the chameleon-like inner enemy of the West (the Culture Distorter, to use Yockey’s apt term) which mercilessly persecutes and smashes all who dare to cry out against our rapid decline and degeneration; in all truth, it is mainly the fault of the many thousands who fully know the issues at stake yet have not the moral courage to identify and fight the Culture Distorter; or—worse yet—who have, by diligent self-persuasion, convinced themselves that the battle for survival against an enemy that demands nothing less than total surrender can be fought and won with tax-deductible corporations, measured, “moderate” words and avoidance of “extremists.” These dainty combatants swarm over every anti-communist movement like ants on sugar. By shrilly demonstrating their anti-communism they bribe their consciences to give them peace and often go so far as to join in the crucifixion of those few with moral courage lest they too, be adjudged “guilty” by association. America has too many of such anti-communists and too few real patriots.
There is much in Imperium which can be easily misinterpreted. There is something for everyone to agree with. And there is something for everyone to disagree with. This is a distinguishing characteristic of every truly vital and revolutionary departure.
Yockey’s criticism of Darwinism is an example of the first possibility, and it should be borne in mind that he is speaking of journalistic Darwinism, not the theory of evolution. A related point is his usage of the word, race. It would have added to clarity if another word, such asnobility, was used to describe those who feel the Imperative of the Age, for the genetic interpretation of race is a necessary, useful and valid one if we are to see all of our problems clearly and accurately. Also, Yockey cites some tests of doubtful validity when he asserts that children of immigrants into America are quite different in anthropological measurements than their parents. There is no doubt some truth to this; there are bodily differences caused by food and climate, but such conclusions can be carried into the realm of Lysenkoism unless great caution is used.
Troyfim Lysenko is the Russian communist quack and high priest who “proved” through his hocus-pocus that environment and not heredity creates the man. Such a theory is the basic fallacy upon which the entire communist theory of man rests, though few people realize this. But heredity is a matter of genes and genes never change except through mutation unless genes of one type (race) are mixed with genes of another type (race). One of the best books on the subject to appear recently is Dr. Conway Zirkle’s Evolution, Marxism, Biology and the Social Scene. Evolution, biology and genetic inheritance must be treated as matters of life-facts, and any theory for the future has to accept them.
Yockey’s usage of the word authority may be a source of misinterpretation. It should be remembered that the individual enjoyed far more liberty in Europe under the monarchs than in America, today. Doubters should familiarize themselves with Edmund Burke, Thomas Carlyle, Herbert Spencer, and the more recent work of Otto von Habsburg, The Social Order of Tomorrow. It is sure that by the use of this word, he does not mean Marxist-type collectivization.
Some readers have raised the question of Yockey’s apparent anti-Russianism, and a clarifying word is necessary here. In later writings, Yockey made his views on Russia more clear; in fact, certain of his captors called him “anti-American and pro-Russian,” during his San Francisco ordeal. Although this libel was of course vomited for the benefit of gullible newspaper readers, it shows that some of his later writings could have been misinterpreted as being pro-Russian, just as Imperium indicates an anti-Russian attitude. Of course, Yockey was neither pro- nor anti-Russian; he was concerned with the health and continuity of the West, and his view of the rest of the world was at all times subjective to what he considered in the best interests of the West at that time.
Accusations of “anti-Semitism,” unless the imprecation is meant as simply having an open mind on the Jewish question, should be interpreted on the same level. The fact that he was captured in the home of a Jewish friend—even though that friend subsequently repudiated him—is instructive to the truth here.
Comment could be made on dozens of the brilliant thoughts and concepts presented inImperium, such as, for one example, his relegating economics to its proper level—organically, the alimentary tract. His advocacy of European unification, long before this idea had gained any headway, is another case in point. This is perhaps a proof of his assertion that things that are considered “extreme” today are the dogmas of tomorrow; the genius lives in the future, as he says, and whereas he used to be considered merely a little “odd” by his contemporaries, and avoided or tolerantly humored (unless, that is, he incurred the righteous wrath of the Church, in which case things could be made very hot for him) he is today declared by modern Freudianism to be mentally ill and unfit for the ancient protections of law; and this is surely indicative of the “progress” we have made in a thousand years.
The significance of the pseudonym Yockey chose as author of Imperium, Ulick Varange, should be noted. Ulick is an Irish given name, derived from Danish, and means “reward of the mind.” Varange, of course, refers to the Varangians, that far-roving band of Norse heroes led by Rurik who, upon invitation from the Slavs, came to civilize Russia in the 9th Century, built the Russian Imperial State and formed the gifted and handsome Russian aristocracy until they were butchered by the Bolsheviks—along with some 20 million other Christians and Muslims—in that bloody terror. The name, therefore, drawn as it is from the Eastern and Western antipodes of Europe, signifies a Europe united “from the rocky promontories of Galway to the Urals,” as he, himself, exhorts. Finally, the surname, Varange, by itself signifies the Western origin of historic Russia.
Imperium throughout is—again as the author says—not a book in the sense that it presentsargument. It is prophetic; the work of an intuitive seer. You will find no bibliography or footnotes in Imperium for this reason in spite of the vast reading that the author has obviously done. And it is prophetic not only in the large historical sense, for could Yockey have been thinking of himself and predicting his own violent end when he stresses that the prophets of a new age often come to unnatural deaths? Twice this thought is brought out—once in the chapter THE ARTICULATION OF A CULTURE, and again, GENIUS.
Another interesting and mysterious fact about the manuscript he completed at Brittas Bay and that you now hold in your hand is that it is “keyed” so that, if the secret code can be discovered, the author’s name is spelled. Thus, the question of authenticity which is always raised about a great work after the author dies cannot ever be a problem with Imperium.
It is important to seek the origins of Yockey’s philosophy, for all are compelled to build on the backs of those who have gone before and to see the past clearly is to understand more fully. With more exaggeration than accuracy, Yockey states, “There is nothing original in the content of this book.”
A grounding in Oswald Spengler is fundamental to understanding Yockey; in fact, it can be said that Imperium is really a sequel to Spengler’s monumental The Decline of the West. Spengler, of course, is persona non grata to prevailing “intellects” for reasons that become very clear to any reader of Decline, so this revival of his influence—an inevitable revival, I’ll add—will be a great shock to the tender minds of the beatniks, liberals and communists who have sucked at the dry pap of historical conformity for so long. These intellectual infants are always very eager to assure us that Spengler is “repudiated,” a favorite semantic weapon of theirs, used regularly whenever they wish to avoid discussing issues and facts.
But Oswald Spengler—“the philosopher of the Twentieth Century,” as Yockey calls him—along with Gregor Mendel, Thomas Malthus and Charles Darwin—has shown us the pattern of the world of yesterday and the outline of it in the future, for better or for worse. Each of these giants is primary in his own field of study, and to study history while rejecting Spengler is quite as foolish as studying disease and rejecting the germ theory, or studying mathematics and rejecting numbers. The pathetic intellectual nihilists, materialists, equalists and do-gooders may yap, yap at the heels of Spengler until they are hoarse, but History cannot hear them.
“In this book is attempted for the first time the venture of predetermining history. . . .” Spengler opens Decline, and follows it with two thick volumes of delightful and profound excursions into world history, war, philosophy, poetry, music, art, politics, religion, even mathematics.
Perhaps the best synopsis of Spengler—if there can be such a thing—has been done by Egon Friedell in his A Cultural History of the Modern Age, a three-volume work of which, incidentally, Yockey was very fond. Says Friedell in listing significant thinkers:
Lastly, and with deep admiration, we come to the name of Oswald Spengler, perhaps the most powerful and vivid thinker to appear on German soil since Nietzsche. One has to climb very high in the world’s literature to find works of such scintillating and exuberant intellect, such triumphant psychological vision and such a personal and suggestive, rhythmic cadence as hisDecline of the West. What Spengler gives us in his two volumes is the “outlines of a morphology of history.” He sees, in place of the “monotonous picture of linear world-history” the “phenomenon of a plurality of mighty Cultures.”
“Each Culture has its own new possibilities of self-expression, which arise, ripen, decay and never return. There is not one sculpture, one painting, one mathematics, one physics, but many, each in its deepest essence different from the others, each limited in duration and self-contained, just as each species of plant has its peculiar blossom or fruit, its special type of growth and decline. These Cultures, sublimated life-essences, grow with the same superb aimlessness as the flowers of the field.”
Cultures are organisms, and cultural history is their biography. Spengler establishes nine such Cultures, the Babylonian, the Egyptian, the Indian, the Chinese, the Classical, the Arabian, the Mexican, the Western and the Russian, and he throws light upon each in turn, naturally not an equally bright and full light in every case, as, of course, our information concerning them is very unequal. But in the evolutionary course of these Cultures certain parallelisms rule, and this leads Spengler to introduce the conception of “contemporary” phenomena, by which he understands historical facts that, “each in its own Culture, occur in the same—relative—positions and, therefore, have an exactly corresponding significance.”
“Contemporary,” for example, are the rise of the Ionic and that of the Baroque; Polygnotus and Rembrandt, Polycletus and Bach, Socrates and Voltaire are “contemporaries.” But within the individual Culture itself, too, there is naturally complete congruence of all its life-expressions at each of its stages of evolution. So, for instance, there is a deep connection of form between the Classical Polis and the Euclidean geometry, between the space-perspective of the Western oil-painting and the conquest of space by railways, telephones, and long-range weapons. By means of these and like guiding principles, now Spengler arrives at the most interesting and surprising discoveries. The “Protestant brown” of the Dutch and the atheistic plein air of the Manet school, the “Way” as prime symbol of the Egyptian Soul, and the “Plain” as the leitmotif of the Russian world-outlook, the “Magian” Culture of the Arabs and the “Faustian” Culture of the West, the “second religiousness” in which late Cultures revive the images of their youth, and the “fellahdom” in which man becomes again historyless—these, and many more like them, are unforgettable glimpses of genius that light up for a moment vast tracts of night, incomparable discoveries and hints of an intellect that possesses a truly creative eye for analogies. That the Cimmerians of learning have opposed to such a work nothing but stolidity and a deaf incomprehension of what his questions and answers are about is not surprising to anyone who knows the customs and mentality of the republic of scholarship.
Spengler published Decline in July, 1918, and we are still being washed in the very first breakwaters of that titanic event. For The Decline of the West was fully as revolutionary to the study of history in 1918 as Copernicus’s theory of heliocentricity was to the study of astronomy in 1543.
What, we may ask, is the main cause of resistance to accepting Spengler aside from the fact that he is a massive roadblock to the total victory of the marxist-liberal “intellectual”? The main difficulties, I think, are two: the necessity of acknowledging the essentially alien nature of every cultural soul, and the apparent necessity to reconcile ourselves to the dismal fact that our own Western organism must, too, die as have all those which have passed before.
This psychological block runs deep in the West—so deep that it is an error which is apparent in all philosophical strata, certainly not only the leftist variety. Name any philosopher, economist or religious adept of Western history, except Hegel1 (yes, even including Spengler) and you are virtually certain to find a man who sought to lay universal laws of human behavior; who, in other words, saw no essential difference between races. This error is so fundamental it is usually unconscious. (What would Lord Keynes, for example, do with his “universal” theory of oversaving if he were to try to apply it to Ghana or Haiti?) The Roman Catholic Church is a case in point. Tradition-minded Westerners rightly speak of the Church as being a bulwark of the West, but sometimes go so far as to identify the Church as the West. Unfortunately, the compliment is not returned. The Holy Roman Church is a universal Church—one Church for all men—which sees all people, wherever they are and whoever they be, as equal human souls whose bodies are to be brought to the holy embrace of Vatican City. It is the first to reject the impious suggestion that it owes a primary loyalty to the West. Scientific and philosophical demonstrations that men and cultures are, nevertheless, different in many fundamental respects and that it is unhealthy—unethical—to mix them are sure to meet with the same inhospitable reception that the Church earlier gave to Copernicus and Galileo. In April of 1962 three Catholics in New Orleans were excommunicated for daring to stand on this heretical Verity.2
Paradoxically, the fundamental problem of the second difficulty lies in the very Faustian Soul of the West which Spengler himself defined: “The Faustian Soul—whose prime symbol is pure and limitless space,” he said; and it is true, for we need, in our innermost being, the perpetual reach to infinity. The idea of unlimited progress flows from this spiritual reality; this is a concept which is deeply and inextricably imbedded in every man of the West. Thus, the thought of inevitable death draws a fundamental rejection and is called pessimism.
As for the first specific difficulty, the acknowledgment of the essentially alien nature of each cultural soul, it follows that if every culture has its own inner vitality, it will be uninfluenced by the spirit of any other. This also runs against the very deepest grain of Western man who, for five hundred years and more, has been proselyting men all over the world in the vain hope of making them over in his own beloved image.
A central point when thinking about this subject is the growth and now the total supremacy of the Western idea of technics. The entire world of science is a reflection of Western man and no other, and we have seen Western technics conquer the world. We see our science being appropriated to varying degrees and in varying manners by every simian Culture on the planet which has advanced beyond the arboreal stage. The stone-age Negro denizens of Africa, Haiti, New Guinea and the southern Philippines are fascinated by clocks, radios and even sails. When an American city wants to get rid of its old streetcars, it sells them to Amerindian Mexico. The Semitic Arabs ride their Cadillacs and use rifles made in Belgium; both of which are bought with the gold of oil royalties from Wall Street, Dallas or London. The Oriental Chinese have learned well, and are expected to explode an atomic bomb at any moment. And even the half-Western Russians, from the days of Peter the Great, or even Rurik, have constructed their ships, cannon and rockets with European engineers. But does this mass appropriation of Western technics have the slightest effect on the inner and distinctive soul of the culture which appropriates? The answer is no, and we should not allow our foolish pride to think otherwise.
The other cause of rejecting Spengler lies in the difficulty of reconciling ourselves to the apparent necessity of the death of the West as a cultural organism.
But it is not necessary, in my opinion, to make this reconciliation. For although a Culture is an organism, it is a peculiar one; and, by accepting the analogy in the first place, we are able to intelligently seek for the possibility of extending or renewing its life.
Yockey rejects this hypothesis and, as a thorough Spenglerian, foresees the end of the West. But it can be argued that the very introduction of the organic concept into historical philosophizing and theorizing plus the unparalleled mastery over Nature which the West has attained—and the infinite possibilities of this for the future—hold out the conception that the organism of the West need not suffer the same Destiny as cultures which have gone before and which had none of this knowledge. In other words, we now have the proper concept, thanks to Spengler, and have, for the first time in all history, identified the pathology of Culture, thanks to Yockey. And, in addition, Western technics have created the equally unique physical means to apply to the problem.
To carry this examination further, the Western Culture excels all others in history in these areas:
(1) The obsession with fact-history.
(2) The development of the organic concept of Culture, and recognition of its pathology.
(3) The development of science and master technics. Nearing-subjection of the microcosm and time, and the macrocosm and space.
Let us now turn to the so-far final and, according to Spengler, the “inevitable” phase of a Culture—the imperialistic. First of all, it is in this area that the Spenglerian theory, as applied to “the venture of predetermining history,” appears to falter because the West appears to be behind on the timetable. Yockey comments on this and attributes it to the retarding influence of Money. This is probably true. The question is, if Money can disturb the cycle, cannot other things, too?
Here may be mentioned another unique fact as regards the Western situation. The condition of overproduction has become a fact of life that almost all sectors of political opinion are loath to recognize. Nevertheless, this is a fundamental departure for men, with widespread implications. Until now, slavery was necessary to support a high standard of living. (And, of course, slavery has always been sanctioned by religion and law when it is economically desirable.) So were foreign conquests for exploitation. This is no longer the case. The main economic problem for the West is to dispose of its surplus production, not to feed and clothe its masses. (This elemental truth is known by every so-called “laboring man” but it has escaped the notice of theorists and economists of both Right and Left.) Overproduction and technics, then, appear to have destroyed the economic imperative for imperialism. Finally, the atomic bomb and its far more terroristic descendants have infinitely diminished the use of war as an instrument of national policy. From these points of view, imperialism as a policy of gain is as dead as the slave trade and the battleship. And if imperialism is not to be undertaken as a deliberate policy of gain, from what standpoint is it to be undertaken? Religious fervor? Popular enthusiasm for capitalism? No, the day of the Crusades is also past for the West. We shall not see the West march to conquer the world in any other fashion but that of Wall Street’s and the Peace Corps’—unless the need to dump our products finally can be resolved only in “war, the coward’s solution for the problems of peace.”
Now if one were to object that the above considerations smack of the causal view of history—against which Yockey inveighs—and assert that the final phase of our Culture is subject to purely spiritual phenomena, I should be so bold as to suggest the possibility of a miscalculation by Spengler which could have been based on a misinterpretation of his own data and his own theory which, if seen in a slightly different perspective, not only clears up the meaning of the theory in the light of present developments, but also validates it completely. Space permits only the barest of outlines here, at the risk of unintelligibility to all but those initiated in the mysteries of Spenglerism.
Spengler’s method was to show the correlation of all aspects of the history of a cultural organism. As the Friedell quotation earlier suggests, Spengler drew analogies between apparently diverse elements within a Culture, all of which are given shape and meaning by the zeitgeist (spirit of the age) which is the creation of the cultural soul in its singular Destiny. Hence, in the search of the past he saw as the culminating stage that which expresses itself spiritually as universalism. In the realm of religion, it becomes a “second religiosity,” starting as a conglomeration of many sects and cults which no one takes seriously but everyone concerns himself with. (This is what we have today. It is called the “social gospel” and appears in a thousand forms, profane as well as sacred. It is not true religion at all but cultism.) Finally this anarchy stabilizes into the form of a generally-accepted and genuine religion—and we are about 200 years away from this. In the realm of the economic, there is “big business” and the growing power of Money, which, however, is finally broken by the force of politics. In art, the zeitgeist expresses itself as the importation of exotic art forms, and inane experimentation which has no significance whatsoever except as natural degeneracy of the native form. Finally, in foreign outlook, there is imperialism, military expansion.
We can plainly see all the above running true to form and right on schedule except for the latter. Why? Simply because the subjection of technics to the service of the West and the mastery of economics over the West has sublimated this stage of spiritual universalism from militaristic imperialism to other forms of expansion. Verily, never before has there been such an aggressive army of gun-shy expansionists and pacifist imperialists. World government fanatics literally swarm over the West. They and others staunchly support the United Nations—an anachronism which cannot possibly be effective toward its alleged purposes—yet support for this harmful fossil is a matter of personal morality with millions. The zeitgeist is always reflected in definitions, so it is the height of insult for a White man today to be labeled an “isolationist” or “nationalist.” White folks must all be “free traders,” “internationalists” and “cosmopolitan” in our outlook, and how we admire the “citizen of the world,” whatever that is. Our view is intently focused away from our marches; it is far easier, we have discovered, to solve the problems of total strangers than to solve our own. Non-Western peoples are not so enlightened as we, and it is eagerly excused, utilizing a newly-discovered Christian double standard which is a mark of modern moral superiority, like belonging to the Classic Book Club or contributing to the Negro College Fund. What, asks Nietzsche, has caused more suffering than the follies of the compassionate? It is good for colored peoples to be nationalistic; we encourage it, in fact, and snap up Israel Bonds with a warm feeling of self-righteousness. We are joyful when colored peoples and Jews exhibit “race pride,” the cardinal sin and taboo of our own puritanical environment. (Incidentally, why is it that every subject except one can be discussed in our enlightened age? Atheism is now a dull subject. Marxism is even duller, after one hundred years of popularity. A step further has taken us past plain sex to sadism and perversion; the Marquis de Sade is even becoming jaded. What racy topic is left to discuss since the equalists have brought democracy’s blessings? Only one thing cannot be discussed in polite company: race.)
The heroes of Wall Street reap the most from this type of “imperialism,” and today investors big and little interest themselves in foreign investments which are actually given tax advantages over domestic investments (tax favoritism: the final criterion of status in our democracy)—or they support “foreign aid”—remembering to stipulate, naturally, that a portion of this neat gimmick to dispose of our surplus production be allotted to their own products. The ultimate expression of this militant water-pistol imperialism is the hilarious yet deeply symbolic “Peace Corpse,” the true expression of the zeitgeist. Created out of the typically American combination of abysmal do-good stupidity and inability to gauge the feelings of others, and enlightened greed, this is the perfect symbol for today.
No, we do not need imperialism so long as we have leaders like Mennen Williams and Adlai Stevenson; savants like Eleanor Roosevelt and Arnold Toynbee and altruists like Herbert Lehman, James Warburg and Douglas Dillon to solve our problems for us. To further pursue this inquiry into the applicability of Spengler today it is important to bring out a certain point of view which is heard most infrequently, thanks to the purveyors of intellectual freedom and democracy. Neo-Spenglerians who are attuned to the racial view of history (call them “racists” for convenience) hold that the “final” phase of a Culture—the imperialistic stage—is final onlybecause the cultural organism destroys its body and kills its soul by this process.
Obviously, if we are to draw analogies between cultures and organisms we must agree that the soul of the organism dies only because of the death of the body. The soul can sicken—the soul of the West is now diseased and perhaps mortally ill—but it cannot die unless the organism itself dies. And this, point out the racists, is precisely what has happened to all previous cultures; death of the organism being the natural result of the suicidal process of imperialism.
A word on the racial view of history before proceeding further. Today, of course, history is written from the marxist standpoint of economics, linear progress and class warfare—and Yockey explains this triple error well. Previous to the first World War history was written largely from the racial point of view. History was seen as the dramatic story of the movements, struggles and developments of races, which it is. Suppression of the racist point of view reached its apex about 1960. (It is no coincidence that the power of the Culture Distorter in every other field, including political, gave signs—however faint—of wavering at that time, too.)
Perhaps the biggest reason for a growing tendency of White folks to look at the races objectively is, paradoxically, precisely because they have been forced to look at them subjectively! It is no problem to maintain a myth in ignorance. Negro equality or even supremacy, for example, is easier to believe in if there are no Negroes around to destroy the concept. In a word, internationalism in practice quickly metamorphoses into racism.
To turn from experience to academic matters, how many Americans or Britons are acquainted with the stupendously elemental fact that they are—in the historical sense—Germans; that they are, like it or not, a part of that great Teutonic-Celtic family which—millenniums before the dawn of Rome or even Greece—was one tribe, with one language? How many otherwise enlightened and well-meaning people who have heretofore judged their patriotism according to the degree of hatred they have had for their continental brothers know that the ancestors of the great Teutonic-Celtic family are the same Aryans who subjected India and civilized it, speaking the Sanskrit language and creating the caste system which, incidentally, was nothing originally but a system of racial segregation endowed with a religious significance in order to maintain it? Or that, before this, there were the Sumerians and the Persians, and that the modern name for Persia—Iran—is merely a corruption of Aryan?
Greece and Rome, also, were created by this great, far-roving, culture-bearing race of conquerors. In whatever part of the world it went, a different civilization was created, each of which was distinctive because it developed in tune with the environmental conditions in whatever location its history began, yet bearing unmistakable traces of its Aryan origin.
There are some civilizations about which we know little, as far as the racial elements are concerned. All we know for certain about the Egyptians is that they were Caucasian, and that they, like all slavemasters, mingled their blood with that of their Negro slaves. As for the so-called Amerindian civilizations, we now know without doubt that civilization was superimposed upon the Indian savages by a White racial stock. In his popular books, Kon-Tiki and Aku-Aku, Thor Heyerdahl cleverly reveals the forbidden racist view, in spite of the fact that a million people who are familiar with the adventure described in the books are totally ignorant of the deep racial message he wrote into them. (It is a sad commentary indeed when a gifted scientist, in order to reveal a simple truth, must risk his life and then write an adventure story in code, which, when interpreted, shows a forbidden fact.)
In Kon-Tiki, Heyerdahl wrote, “. . . There is not a trace of gradual development in the high civilizations which once stretched from Mexico to Peru. The deeper the archeologists dig, the higher the culture, until a definite point is reached at which the old civilizations have clearly arisen without any foundation in the midst of primitive cultures.” All of the wonders in South and Central America before the arrival of the Spaniards had been brought about suddenly by a race of White conquerors and that, as they melted their blood slowly into that of their subject native population, the civilization dwindled. The very reason Cortez conquered the Aztecs so easily was because Montezuma believed that the Spaniards were the “fair-skinned, bearded men coming from the East” which, Quetzalcoatl’s prophecy foretold, would return; and the Incas in Peru had the very same legend. The name, Inca, by the way, is the name only of the aristocracy of the Peruvians. The Incas were White and the princesses were quite beautiful; so much so that many of the Spanish officers married them and took them back to Spain. A glance at the present “Incas” in Peru shows at once that these were not the creators of the great Peruvian Culture.
Some of the very best writing on this subject and, for that matter, on the fascinating subject of world prehistory generally is found in Paul Hermann’s Conquest by Man, an extremely valuable book which, strangely enough, is now in print (Harper)!
An even cloudier origin must be ascribed to the Chinese civilization. Suffice it to say that there is abundant indication of early White movements to North China and there is much similarity between early Chinese culture and Babylonian. Genghis Khan, a Mongol, came from a tribe called “the gray-eyed men,” according to biographer Harold Lamb, and he had red hair and green eyes. The Chinese have shown that they have the ability to maintain a civilization but we cannot prove that they have ever created one.
The intensive suppression, misrepresentation, condemnation and opposition to the racial view of history has had its effect. We still not only have much to learn (the surface of prehistory has barely been scratched and will never be more than scratched if the scientists persist in spending their time in well-financed projects in the so-called “cradle of civilization” in the Middle East) but the results of historical perversion have been satisfyingly abundant in the social area. This has allowed the Distorter to convince Europe that all that Europe has it owes to the Greeks, the Romans and an obscure tribe of vagabonds which some religious crackpots refer to as “God’s Chosen People.”3 In The Testimony of the Spade, however, Geoffrey Bibby relates some results of his straying off the beaten archeological track and looking for the origins of Europe in Europe instead of the alien Orient; results which will be surprising to persons brought up to believe that their ancestors were bearskin-clad savages, civilized only when forced to acknowledge the superiority of Rome. In truth, virtually everything the West has it owes to itself, including holidays like Christmas and Easter (originally Teutonic celebrations of the Winter Solstice and the coming of Spring, with the latter celebration dedicated to the Goddess Eostre), to law, ethics, and single-breasted jackets. The world wears leather shoes and trousers, not sandals and togas. Wearing apparel very similar to items sold at Sears, Roebuck today have been discovered in Europe dating back some three thousand years.
The Western Culture had its birth many millenniums ago. It began autochthonously and developed to the present point, when it now stands upon the verge of physical and spiritual annihilation only because it has ceased to believe in itself. This is the lesson we glean.
Further, there is a correlation too perfect to be a coincidence in that in every case on record of the death or stagnation of a Culture there has been simultaneously an abortive attempt to digest large numbers of cultural and racial aliens into the organism. In the case of Rome and Greece death came about through imperialism and the resulting, inevitable backwash of conquered peoples and races into the heartland as slaves, bringing exotic religions, different philosophies; in a word, cultural sophistication first, then cultural anarchy. In the case of Persia, India and the Amerindian civilizations, a race of conquerors superimposed their civilization upon a mass of indigenous people; the area flourished for awhile, then the Culture vanished or, in the case of America, was on the verge of vanishing, as the descendants of the conquerors became soft, fat and liberal and took on more and more of the accoutrements and blood of the subject population. In the case of Egypt, the alien blood was brought in over the course of many centuries by the importation of Negro slaves. The inevitable racial mongrelization followed, creating the Egypt we know today.
We thus see the real reason underlying the “inevitable” decline and destruction of a cultural organism. It is because, at a certain stage, a Culture develops a bad case of universalism. Speaking pathologically, unless this is sublimated to harmless channels by proper treatment, it will inevitably kill the organism through the absorption of a resulting flood of alien microbes.
It is, therefore, the natural by-product of universalism which kills the organism; the death of the organism itself is neither natural nor necessary!
This conclusion comes by a synthesis of the Spenglerian and the racial point of view. Each tempers the other; together a comprehensive and hopeful theory of history can be developed which holds a deep meaning to Westerners of this day. At all costs, the imperialistic phase of our development must be avoided, and we must guard against the digestion of alien matter we have already partially absorbed. The West need not die if it learns to sublimate the present “universal” stage of the West from the orthodox to something more constructive which will not only satisfy the “inevitable” yearning that the West now displays for expansion and universalism but, at the same time, will provide a basis for the West to continue its development. What can that be?
Faintly shining above the wreckage of seven Cultures we can now detect a dim ray of hope which gives to us, as men of the West, reason to believe that the Destiny of our Culture can work itself out through a completely new path. This ray of hope shines from the same developments which have brought the West to its position of unqualified superiority to every other Culture. For the West has already embarked upon the greatest adventure in all history—the attempt to conquer Space—the attempt to bring the very Universe under the control of the race! This imperative needs no justification other than the one Sir Edmund Hillary gave when he was asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest: “Because it’s there.” This is the pristine reality of the Faustian Soul of the West, and it is beyond the logic of the rationalists.
Could any goal be at once so totally challenging, so impudent and impossible as this—and also so metaphysically necessary to the spiritual need of our Culture? And more—could any goal be so perfectly adapted to the physical situation in which we find ourselves?
The fates have provided the West well with the means of survival. At this point in history, our technics, industrial overproduction and the “population explosion” become all-important, for we see that finally the West has the means to turn the poetic imperative of the Faustian drive for the Infinite to reality; indeed, the inescapable need to do so.
For it is true that, regardless of all arguments to the contrary, Western man is bound to conquer Space or to die in the attempt. No longer is the drive toward infinity and largeness held back by earthly boundaries. Now, in fact, we have infinity at our elbow.
What I am suggesting is that at last the White man has burst the ties to Earth. I am stating the simple fact that, barring calamity caused by universal physical or biological destruction, we are now heading for the stars, and there is no power in heaven or Earth to stop us. Coming days will see the present drive for Space magnified a thousandfold—a millionfold. All limits to the possibility of expansion have disappeared. Geographical expansion on Earth is senseless—and worse than senseless—it is suicide. The Frontier has come back—a Frontier that can never be dissipated. And with that Frontier come literally limitless opportunities not only for physical expansion but for economic exploitation—and for the Soul of Faustian man to find its true expression.
Of course, man cannot conquer the heavens. Man cannot move the solar system, change planets in their orbits, add billions of square miles of dirt to the surface of the Earth, move other planets closer to the life-giving Sun to adapt them for colonization, refuel the Sun when it starts to fade and, most noble impossibility of all, actually upgrade the human species through deliberate biological mechanics4; for, in the attempt to conquer Nature, we must fail; this is the eternal tragedy of the Faustian Soul, says Spengler in Man and Technics. But—and this is the important thing—we can try. And we will. The final end does not matter; time has no end; only the goal matters.
At the same time there is the grave danger that we will, with our attention fixed on the nearing stars, succumb to the subtle urgings of the Culture Distorter and ignore the problems at home. The Infinite Challenge is of unspeakable excitement, but the mundane problem of the quality of men and their earthly environment is of more importance. Our venture to Infinity will be very short-lived if we come home to an Earth peopled with a rapidly-degenerating human species; to nights that crawl with the prowlings of depraved, raceless savages, with only barred doors keeping the jungle out of the laboratory and the boudoir until day breaks; to a tyranny over our government that is exercised by organized and predatory minorities; to impossible taxes to support degenerative “welfare” schemes that are deliberately designed to proliferate the unfit and inferior at the expense of the productive and creative; to an organized filth that calls itself literature; to the ethical syphilis of Hollywood; to systematic lies that masquerade as scholarship; to purposeful journalistic and official propaganda that has as its sole aim the perpetuation of cultural decline; to thralldom to an economic system dedicated to extirpating individual excellence and personal responsibility; to a liberal philosophy and a sick religion—perfect for slaves—which ferociously combats all creative efforts of noble souls, revealing its own loftiest aspiration to be the implantation of a subconscious death wish in our people; to a cowardly hypocrisy that makes it impossible to speak of our real problems—and all of this for the purpose of stabilizing the total supremacy of the Culture Distorter, which feeds and fattens on these conditions.
Oswald Spengler, then, can be seen not as the prophet of inevitable doom, but as achallenger, as a seer who was—in common with all great creators—unable to see the final consequences of his creation. Hence, the importance of Spengler becomes the size of the future, and all men who are free from the grip of the destroyers must, as a categorical imperative, accept his basic teachings. What we do with it—whether or not we have the courage to build on the structure he built—this is up to us. We must hope that more men like Yockey will come to add a little more onto the concept he created, for the development of the Western cultural organism is not coming to an end, it is just beginning.
What is the significance of Imperium? Simply this. That now, for the first time, those soldiers who enlist in the service of the West have a profound theory to inspire and guide them.Imperium, after conquering all attempts to suppress it and destroy it—as have all constructive advances in the past of man—is seen as the only foundation which can be used to overthrow the inner enemies, reconquer the Soul of the West and pave the way to the future.
In spite of the difference of opinion which Imperium will stir, this much is certain: here is a book which is basically different from other books, precisely as the author states on the first page. Whether it does, indeed, signal a turning-point in history such as the author describes, or not, it contains a vast amount of pregnant thinking and new concepts which any fair-minded person will welcome. It breaks through the straitjacket of present sterile intellectualism which affronts us from a thousand futile towers of “higher learning” and will undoubtedly endow every reader with possessions of thought which will enrich him and, in time, our Culture. Whether the apocalyptic prophecies are borne out, or whether an alternative and more constructive course can be imposed upon history—or whether the West and the world will come to its finality not with a bang but with a whimper, only the unfoldment of time can tell; but no intelligent man will ignore Imperium.
In one respect, Imperium is akin to Das Kapital, for Karl Marx gave to the conspiratorial Culture Distorter the necessary ideological mask to hide its mission of ruthless, total destruction. He provided an ugly and invalid theory of man, cloaked in putrefying equality, mewling hypocrisy, the disease of undiscriminating altruism and the “science” of economics. By doing so, he thrilled the rationalists with a totally specious verity, something their stunted, guilty souls desperately needed after they killed God.
Francis Parker Yockey has done the same thing for those who are constructive-minded and who have the intellectual and moral courage to face reality and seek and speak truth.
This is why, although Yockey’s plan for the West may not be perfect, it contains atomic power. If only one man reading this book is influenced to lead, and if others are made to see the world a little more clearly than they do now—and if they are thereby enabled to discriminate between their true friends and their real enemies, and to recognize the need for leadership and coordinated action—then Yockey’s life of suffering and persecution and his monumental accomplishment in spite of all has not been in vain.
And whatever course Destiny may take from this day forth, I shall always be baffled by two questions.
For one, is the republication of this book, in itself, concrete evidence that its prophecy is being worked out?
And lastly—now you must accept this at my word and question me no further—it is most strange that two men—neither of whom can bring themselves to believe in either “Destiny” or “Eternal Justice”—that these two heathens and bitter realists—these two rationalists, if you will—were the only ones with faith enough to take it upon themselves to see that Imperium is not forgotten but is made available for you, dear reader.
1) Extracts from the interesting Introduction to Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel’s Philosophy of History:
“The peculiarly African character is difficult to comprehend, for the very reason that in reference to it we must quite give up the principle which accompanies all our ideas — the category of Universality … Another characteristic fact in reference to the Negro is slavery … Bad as this may be, their lot in their own land is even worse, since a slavery there quite as absolute exists; for it is the essential principle of slavery, that man has not yet attained to a consciousness of his own freedom, and consequently sinks down to a mere Thing — an object of no value. Among the Negro moral sentiments are quite weak, or more strictly speaking, non-existent. Parents sell their children and conversely children their parents, as either has the opportunity – – – the polygamy of the Negroes has frequently for its object the having of many children, to be sold, every one of them, into slavery – – . From these various traits it is manifest that want of self-control distinguishes the character of the Negroes. This condition is capable of no development or culture, and as we see them at this day, such have they always been… At this point we leave Africa, not to mention it again. For it is no historical part of the World; it has no movement or development to exhibit.”
2) In his final work, History of the People of Israel, Ernest Renan said, “Socialism may bring back by the complicity of Catholicism a new Middle Age. And there are, indeed, some rather horrifying straws in the wind as regards the Church’s traditional hostility toward communism. March 7, 1963 witnessed the Pope grasping the hand of Alexi Adzheubi, an official representative of the same Bolshevism which so far has murdered at least 50 million patriots in Russia, China and elsewhere. What are millions to think — Catholic and non-Catholic — who have heretofore looked upon Rome as a bulwark against this unspeakably degenerate conspiracy? (Decent Catholics should not be too surprised or chagrined; Protestant sects by and large were captured by the Culture Distorter years ago.) But should the two equalitarian religions converge, compromise is required on the part of the Communist Party, too; being totally bankrupt intellectually, this is not too great a price. An anonymous letter supposedly written by a CP member was reprinted in the May, 1963 Truth Seeker, a strongly anti-communist free thought periodical. It bears repetition:
“The Party has soft-pedaled atheism for years and now we are dropping it completely. Atheism divides the masses and offends all the good religious people in the Party and who work closely with us. Fanatical atheists who insist on preaching their views are thrown out … confusing the political problems we have with religious matters is asinine. By far the most progress the Party is making today is being made through the churches … I expect to see a complete convergence of the Catholic Church and the Party within the next fifty years…The shadow of this is clearly foreshown in Poland. Perhaps you have heard of Pax? This is a Catholic lay organization run by communist priests . . . tolerated by both the Party and the Church … You may yet live to see the day when the dictatorship of the proletariat will be proclaimed by the Pope!”
3) Or, as Samuel Hoffenstein put it in his earthquaking couplet:
To choose the Jews.
4) In Nature and Man’s Fate, biologist Garrett Hardin of the University of California has done what too few academicians can do: created a book of both beauty and far-seeing scope. But alas, words are only words; politics alone, let us ever remember, is the art of the possible.
Those readers who attended this year’s John Tyndall Memorial Meeting in Preston will remember the reference by Andrew Brons to an NF member – Terry Denville-Faulkner – who used to sell party literature at the BBC!
We have since heard that the intrepid nationalist in question, Terry Denville-Faulkner, died on Monday 26th October. In 1976 he was NF candidate in a high-profile parliamentary by-election in Carshalton, polling 1,851 votes (4.6%).
At the 1979 general election he contested the same constituency, but in common with the rest of the party’s candidates his vote declined substantially as Tory leader Margaret Thatcher succeeded in stealing the NF’s clothes to portray her party (falsely) as anti-immigration: Terry Denville-Faulkner’s 1979 vote was 919 (1.8%).
Finally in 1983 with the nationalist movement divided and the NF on the verge of a near-terminal split, he fought Twickenham (pretty much a no-hope area for nationalists) polling 234 votes (0.5%).
Most remarkably throughout his active campaigning for the NF, Terry Denville-Faulkner maintained a successful career as a stage, film and television actor. His professional name was Terrance Denville.
His last television appearance was in the BBC comedy series Miranda in 2010, and he appeared in nine episodes of Doctor Who between 1968 and 1974. In 1995 he had a part in the James Bond film GoldenEye.
Had more Britons shown the courage and commitment of Terry Denville-Faulkner during the 1970s, Britain would be a very different place.