Clan Europe

Richard Nixon was certainly not an integral hero from a Walter Scott novel, and Ronald Reagan with his ‘city built on a hill’ rhetoric and his ‘trickle down’ economic theories was not a great champion of Christian Europe. Nevertheless, I think both Nixon and Reagan had a residue of traditional, Christian, European blood left in their veins; they were not completely post-Christian. In contrast, Bush Sr., Clinton, and Bush Jr. were and are completely post-Christian. All three strike me as caricatures of human beings, examples of the new technocratic, post-Christian men forged by Satan and incapable of acting in any way contrary to Satan’s wishes.

Only the white European can be a technocratic man, because only the white European walked away from paganism. And he can not go back. He can go forward (in a decadent, sci-fi sense) or he can be faithful to his blood and become an integral Christian man, but he cannot become a pagan again.

In a wonderful epic poem, “Harold the Dauntless,” Walter Scott describes, through Harold the Dauntless, European man’s struggle from paganism to Christianity. Harold’s father is a full-blooded, pagan hero.

List to the valorous deeds that were done
By Harold the Dauntless, Count Witikind’s son!
Count Witikind came of a regal strain,
And roved with his Norsemen the land and the main.
Woe to the realms which he coasted! For there
Was shedding of blood and rending of hair,
Rape of maiden, and slaughter of priest,
Gathering of ravens and wolves to the feast:
When he hoisted his standard black,
Before him was battle, behind him wrack,
And he burn’d the churches, that heathen Dane,
To light his band to their barks again.

But even a full-blooded pagan can get tired of all that hacking, hewing, and pillaging.

Time will rust the sharpest sword,
Time will consume the strongest cord;
That which molders hemp and steel,
Mortal arm and nerve must feel.
Of the Danish band, whom Count Witikind led,
Many wax’d aged, and many were dead;
Himself found his armor full weighty to bear,
Wrinkled his brows grew, and hoary his hair.
He lean’d on a staff, when his step went abroad,
And patient his palfrey, when steed he bestrode.
As he grew feebler, his wildness ceased,
He made himself peace with prelate and priest;
Made his peace, and stooping his head,
Patiently listed the counsel they said.
Saint Cuthbert’s Bishop was holy and grave,
Wise and good was the counsel he gave:--

“Thou has murder’d, robb’d, and spoil’d,
Time it is thy poor soul were assoil’d;
Priests didst thou slay, and churches burn,
Time it is now to repentance to turn;
Fiends has thou worship’d, with fiendish rite,
Leave now the darkness, and wend into light:
O! while life and space are given,
Turn thee yet, and think of Heaven!”
That stern old heathen his head he raised,
And on the good prelate he steadfastly gazed: --
“Give me broad lands on the Wear and the Tyne,
My faith I will leave, and I’ll cleave unto thine.”

Count Witikind’s conversion is only a tenth-part sincere, and his pagan son is naturally appalled.

“What priest-led hypocrite are thou,
With thy humble look and they monkish brow.
Like a shaveling who studies to cheat his vow?
Canst thou be Witikind the Waster known,
Royal Eric’s fearless son,
Haughty Gunhilda’s haughtier lord,
Who won his bride by the ax and sword;
From the shrine of St. Peter the chalice who tore,
And melted to bracelets for Freya and Thor;
With one blow of his gauntlet who burst the skull,
Before Odin’s stone, of the Mountain Bull?
Then ye worship’d with rites that to war-gods belong,
With the deed of the brave, and the blow of the strong;
And now, in thine age to dotage sunk,
Wilt thou patter thy crimes to a shaven monk…”

Harold is banished by his father and sets out to carve a pagan name for himself even more fearsome than his father’s name. And he succeeds. He stands virtually alone against Christendom and heathendom, and he triumphs. But he was not quite alone. Harold, unknown to him, is beloved. Disguised as a male page, a Danish maid named Eivir remains true to Harold in his disasters and his triumphs. It is when Harold’s pagan god threatens Eivir that Harold realizes the inhumanity and the insufficiency of paganism.

“Harold,” he said, “what rage is thine,
To quit the worship of thy line,
To leave thy Warrior-God?—
With me is glory or disgrace,
Mine is the onset and the chase,
Embattled hosts before my face
Are wither’d by a nod.
Wilt thou then forfeit that high seat
Deserved by many a dauntless feat,
Among the heroes of thy line,
Eric and fiery Thorarine?—
Thou wilt not. Only can I give
The joys for which the valiant live,
Victory and vengeance—only I
Can give the joys for which they die,
The immortal tilt—the banquet full,
The brimming draught from foeman’s skull.
Mine art thou, witness this thy glove,
The faithful pledge of vassal’s love.”

“Tempter,” said Harold, firm of heart,
“I charge thee, hence! whate’er thou art,
I do defy thee – and resist
The kindling frenzy of my breast,
Waked by thy words; and of my mail,
Nor glove, nor buckler, splent, nor nail,
Shall rest with thee – that youth release,
And God, or demon, part in peace.”—
“Eivir,” the Shape replied, “is mine,
Mark’d in the birth-hour with my sign
Think’st thou that priest with drops of spray
Could wash that blood-red mark away?
Or that a borrow’d sex and name
Can abrogate a Godhead’s claim?”
Thrill’d this strange speech thro’ Harold’s brain,
He clenched his teeth in high disdain,
For not his new-born faith subdued
Some tokens of his ancient mood:--
“Now, by the hope so lately given
Of better trust and purer heaven,
I will assail thee, fiend!” – Then rose
His mace, and with storm of blows
The mortal and the Demon close.

Just any Danish maiden, so long as she is comely and fair, will no longer suffice for Harold. He loves a distinct personality in Eivir, and he needs the God-Man, who loves distinct personalities, if he is to save Eivir.

Scott held abstract theory in religion in the same contempt he held abstract theory in politics. But he believed in and revered the non-abstract Christianity of Harold the Dauntless. There is no dichotomy, as the ‘New Age’ pagans would have us believe, between the European Christianity of Walter Scott and the Christianity of the early Church; they are one.

The current group of presidential candidates simply mirror our society. Hillary and McCain are both products of the post-Christian epoch of the white man’s history. They have reverted to paganism, but they add an even sicker, technocratic dimension to their new paganism. Hillary is a votaress of Cybele without the sensuality, and McCain is a devotee of Mars without the passion. Cold, sterile abortions and massive bombing raids represent the new technocratic Cybele and Mars.

A demented Mau Mau like Obama could only rise to prominence in a post-Christian society. He alone among the candidates comes from outside the European tradition. He is not post-Christian; he is pure barbarian. He would be imprisoned or exiled in a truly Christian society, but in a post-Christian society, he is a god.

There is one benefit to be derived from living in a society that has gone completely over to the devil. You have clarity. Let me use Nixon and Reagan as examples again. When you see some Christian remnants in such men, you think about working within existing structures and building on that remnant of faith. But you don’t know how far to go with a mere glimmer of hope. “At what point do I give up on men on the brink of the abyss of post-Christianity and forge on without them?” When the post-Christian Bushes and Clintons come to power, there is no longer any doubt; one can draw the sword and throw the sheath away.

My experience in the Roman Catholic Church mirrored my experience with American democracy. I kept making excuses for the actions of the pope and bishops, hoping for some glimmer of faith within them with which a man could unite and do battle against the barbarian and neo-pagan world. But at every turn, they were against the old Europe of the God-Man and for the New World Order of the barbarians and techno-barbarians. And that is a tragedy, but it is better to know that men whom you thought were allies are indeed your enemies than to have false friends at your back.

It has been rightly said of liberals that they make complex issues simple and simple issues complex. The issue of European identity is not complex. It is simple. Black barbarians have never shown the slightest capability of understanding the true Christianity. When they rule, they extinguish mercy and charity, and whether they profess voodoo or Christianity, the practice of their religion always results in barbarism. And the post-Christian technocrat has given us the barbarism of the machine. Under their rule, European man has suffered the same plight as laboratory rats. He has been dissected and then discarded.

It’s crystal clear now: good vs. evil. The Europe of Walter Scott and all the unsung, dauntless, Christian Harolds is our Europe. Our enemies are those who oppose its restoration. And those enemies are legion. But what choice is there? If we abandon Europe, we abandon Him. And that would truly be the unpardonable sin.

Of course we will never fight effectively against Satan if we hold back, afraid to fight, because we allow the false, outward piety of his minions to deceive us.

An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

If we have hearts that still bleed at the thought of helpless Christian men and women being tortured by black barbarians, we will strike back against the barbarians, despite the protests of the man holding the mitre. And when George Bush turns his back on the white people at home and launches bombs on innocent civilians abroad, we should oppose him despite his ‘born again’ exterior. It is not confusing! If we still have hearts connected to Europe, when it was Europe, we will always instinctively strike back at Satan no matter what outward form he assumes. And now, when everything seems especially hopeless, is the time to strike back at Satan and his minions – for the logic of fairyland tells us that it is when hope seems nearly gone that “God’s relief by us is surely won.”