Liberalism, 3

by Francis Parker Yockey

Imperium Eagle

The type of mind which believes in the essential “goodness” of human nature attained to Liberalism. But there is another political anthropology, one which recognizes that man is disharmonious, problematical, dual, dangerous. This is the general wisdom of mankind, and is reflected by the number of guards, fences, safes, locks, jails and policemen. Every catastrophe, fire, earthquake, volcanic eruption, flood, evokes looting. Even a police strike in an American city was the signal for looting of the shops by the respectable and good human beings.

Thus this type of thought starts from facts. This is political thinking in general, as opposed to mere thinking about politics, rationalizing. Even the wave of Rationalism did not submerge this kind of thinking. Political thinkers differ greatly in creativeness and depth, but they agree that facts are normative. The very word theory has been brought into disrepute by intellectuals and Liberals who use it to describe their pet view of how they would like things to be. Originally theory was explanation of facts. To an intellectual who is adrift in politics, a theory is an aim; to a true politician his theory is a boundary.

A political theory seeks to find from history the limits of the politically possible. These limits cannot be found in the domain of Reason. The Age of Reason was born in bloodshed, and will pass out of vogue in more bloodshed. With its doctrine against war, politics, and violence, it presided over the greatest wars and revolutions in 5,000 years, and it ushered in the Age of Absolute Politics. With its gospel of the Brotherhood of Man, it carried on the largest-scale starvation, humiliation, torture and extermination in history against populations within the Western Civilization after the first two World Wars. By outlawing political thinking, and turning war into a moral-struggle instead of a power-struggle it flung the chivalry and honor of a millennium into the dust. The conclusion is compelling that Reason also became political when it entered politics, even though it used its own vocabulary. When Reason stripped territory from a conquered foe after a war, it called it “disannexation.” The document consolidating the new position was called a “Treaty,” even though it was dictated in the middle of a starvation-blockade. The defeated political enemy had to admit in the “Treaty” that he was “guilty” of the war, that he is morally unfit to have colonies, that his soldiers alone committed “war-crimes.” But no matter how heavy the moral disguise, how consistent the ideological vocabulary, it is only politics, and the Age of Absolute Politics reverts once again to the type of political thinking which starts from facts, recognizes power and the will-to-power of men and higher organisms as facts, and finds any attempt to describe politics in terms of morals as grotesque as it would be to describe chemistry in terms of theology.

There is a whole tradition of political thinking in the Western Culture, of which some of the leading representatives are Macchiavelli, Hobbes, Leibnitz, Bossuet, Fichte, de Maistre, Donoso Cortes, Hippolyte Taine, Hegel, Carlyle. While Herbert Spencer was describing history as the “progress” from military-feudal to commercial-industrial organization, Carlyle was showing to England the Prussian spirit of Ethical Socialism, whose inner superiority would exert on the whole Western Civilization in the coming Political Age an equally fundamental transformation as had Capitalism in the Economic Age. This was creative political thinking, but was unfortunately not understood, and the resulting ignorance allowed distorting influences to fling England into two senseless World Wars from which it emerged with almost everything lost.

Hegel posited a three-stage development of mankind from the natural community through the bourgeois community to the State. His State-theory is thoroughly organic, and his definition of the bourgeois is quite appropriate for the 20th century. To him the bourgeois is the man who does not wish to leave the sphere of internal political security, who sets himself up, with his sanctified private property, as an individual against the whole, who finds a substitute for his political nullity in the fruits of peace and possessions and perfect security in his enjoyment of them, who therefore wishes to dispense with courage and remain secure from the possibility of violent death. He described the true Liberal with these words.

The political thinkers mentioned do not enjoy popularity with the great masses of human beings. As long as things are going well, most people do not wish to hear talk of power-struggles, violence, wars, or theories relating to them. Thus in the 18th and 19th centuries was developed the attitude that political thinkers—and Macchiavelli was the prime victim—were wicked men, atavistic, bloodthirsty. The simple statement that wars would always continue was sufficient to put the speaker down as a person who wanted wars to continue. To draw attention to the vast, impersonal rhythm of war and peace showed a sick mind with moral deficiency and emotional taint. To describe facts was held to be wishing them and creating them. As late as the 20th century, anyone pointing out the political nullity of the “leagues of nations” was a prophet of despair. Rationalism is anti-historical; political thinking is applied history. In peace it is unpopular to mention war, in war it is unpopular to mention peace. The theory which becomes most quickly popular is one which praises existing things and the tendency they supposedly illustrate as obviously the best order and as preordained by all foregoing history. Thus Hegel was anathema to the intellectuals because of his State-orientation, which made him a “reactionary,” and also because he refused to join the revolutionary crowd.

Since most people wish to hear only soporific talk about politics, and not demanding calls to action, and since in democratic conditions it matters to political technics what most people wish to hear, democratic politicians evolved in the 19th century a whole dialectic of party-politics. The idea was to examine the field of action from a “disinterested” standpoint, moral, or economic, and to find that the opponent was immoral, unscientific, uneconomic—in fact—he was political. This was devilishness that must be combated. One’s own standpoint was entirely “non-political.” Politics was a word of reproach in the Economic Age. Curiously however, in certain situations, usually those involving foreign relations, “unpolitical” could also be a term of abuse, meaning the man so described lacked skill in negotiating. The party politician also had to feign unwillingness to accept office. Finally a demonstration of carefully arranged “popular will” broke down his reluctance, and he consented to “serve.” This was described as Macchiavellism, but obviously Macchiavelli was a political thinker, and not a camouflageur. A book by a party-politician does not read like The Prince, but praises the entire human race, except certain perverse people, the author’s opponents.

Actually Machiavelli’s book is defensive in tone, justifying politically the conduct of certain statesmen by giving examples drawn from foreign invasions of Italy. During Macchiavelli’s century, Italy was invaded at different times by Frenchmen, Germans, Spaniards and Turks. When the French Revolutionary Armies occupied Prussia, and coupled humanitarian sentiments of the Rights of Man with brutality and large-scale looting, Hegel and Fichte restored Machiavelli once again to respect as a thinker. He represented a means of defense against a foe armed with a humanitarian ideology. Machiavelli showed the actual role played by verbal sentiments in politics.

One can say that there are three possible attitudes toward human conduct, from the point of evaluating its motives: the sentimental, the realistic, and the cynical. The sentimental imputes a good motive to everybody, the cynical a bad motive, and the realistic simply seeks the facts. When a sentimentalist, e.g., a Liberal, enters politics, he becomes perforce a hypocrite. The ultimate exposure of this hypocrisy creates cynicism. Part of the spiritual sickness following the First World War was a wave of cynicism which arose from the transparent, revolting, and incredible hypocrisy of the little men who were presiding over affairs at that time. Macchiavelli had however an incorruptible intellect and did not write in a cynical spirit. He sought to portray the anatomy of politics with its peculiar problems and tensions, inner and outer. To the fantastic mental illness of Rationalism, hard facts are regrettable things, and to talk about them is to create them. A tiny politician of the Liberal type even sought to prevent talk about the Third World War, after the Second. Liberalism is, in one word, weakness. It wants every day to be a birthday, Life to be a long party. The inexorable movement of Time, Destiny, History, the cruelty of accomplishment, sternness, heroism, sacrifice, superpersonal ideas—these are the enemy.

Liberalism is an escape from hardness into softness, from masculinity into femininity, from History into herd-grazing, from reality into herbivorous dreams, from Destiny into Happiness. Nietzsche, in his last and greatest work, designated the 18th century as the century of feminism, and immediately mentioned Rousseau, the leader of the mass-escape from Reality. Feminism itself—what is it but a means of feminizing man? If it makes women man-like, it does so only by transforming man first into a creature whose only concern is with his personal economics and his relation to “society,” ie. a woman. “Society” is the element of woman, it is static and formal, its contests are purely personal, and are free from the possibility of heroism and violence. Conversation, not action; formality, not deeds. How different is the idea of rank used in connection with a social affair, from when it is applied on a battlefield! In the field, it is fate-laden; in the salon it is vain and pompous. A war is fought for control; social contests are inspired by feminine vanity and jealousy to show that one is “better” than someone else.

And yet what does Liberalism do ultimately to woman: it puts a uniform on her and calls her a “soldier.”’ This ridiculous performance but illustrates the eternal fact that History is masculine, that its stern demands cannot be evaded, that the fundamental realities cannot be renounced, even, by the most elaborate make-believe. Liberalistic tampering with sexual polarity only wreaks havoc on the souls of individuals, confusing and distorting them, but the man-woman and the woman-man it creates are both subject to the higher Destiny of History.

_____________

Yockey’s views on liberalism appear in Imperium (1962), 208-223.

Civilisation’s “Romance and Reality”

For an introduction to these series, see here.

Below, some indented excerpts of “Romance and Reality,” the third chapter of Civilisation by Kenneth Clark, after which I offer my comments.

Originally I posted this entry on April 15 of the last year, but now that I posted another entry about Spain’s Teresa of Ávila I would like to see some feedback in the comments section about my thoughts on St. Francis from those interested in child abuse as a subject.

Ellipsis omitted between unquoted passages:

I am in the Gothic world, the world of chivalry, courtesy and romance; a world in which serious things were done with a sense of play—where even war and theology could become a sort of game; and when architecture reached a point of extravagance unequalled in history. After all the great unifying convictions of the twelfth century, High Gothic art can look fantastic and luxurious—what Marxists call conspicuous waste. And yet these centuries produced some of the greatest spirits in the human history of man, amongst them St Francis and Dante.

A couple of pages later, Clark says:

Several of the stories depicted in the [Chartres Cathedral] arches concern Old Testament heroines; and at the corner of the portico is one of the first consciously graceful women in western art. Only a very few years before, women were thought of as the squat, bad-tempered viragos that we see on the front of Winchester Cathedral: these were the women who accompanied the Norsemen to Iceland.

Now look at this embodiment of chastity, lifting her mantle, raising her hand, turning her head with a movement of self-conscious refinement that was to become mannered but here is genuinely modest. She might be Dante’s Beatrice.

There, for almost the first time in visual art, one gets a sense of human rapport between man and woman.

About the sentiment of courtly love, on the next page Clark adds that it was entirely unknown to antiquity, and that to the Romans and the Vikings it would have seemed not only absurd but unbelievable.

A ‘love match’ is almost an invention of the late eighteenth century. Medieval marriages were entirely a matter of property, and, as everybody knows, marriage without love means love without marriage.

Then I suppose one must admit that the cult of the Virgin had something to do with it. In this context it sounds rather blasphemous, but the fact remains that one often hardly knows if a medieval love lyric is addresses to the poet’s mistress or to the Virgin Mary.

For all these reasons I think it is permissible to associate the cult of ideal love with the ravishing beauty and delicacy that one finds in the madonnas of the thirteenth century. Were there ever more delicate creatures than the ladies on Gothic ivories? How gross, compared to them, are the great beauties of other woman-worshiping epochs.

When I read these pages for the first time I was surprised to discover that my tastes of women have always been, literally, medieval; especially when I studied closely the face of the woman at the right in the tapestry known as The Lady with the Unicorn, reproduced on a whole page in Clark’s book with more detail than the illustration I’ve just downloaded. I have never fancied the aggressive, Hollywood females whose images are bombarded everywhere through our degenerate media. In fact, what moves me to write are precisely David Lane’s 14 words to preserve the beauty and delicacy of the most spiritual females of the white race.

Alas, it seems that the parents did not treat their delicate daughters well enough during the Middle Ages. Clark said:

So it is all the more surprising to learn that these exquisite creatures got terribly knocked about. It must be true, because there is a manual of how to treat women—actually how to bring up daughters—by a character called the Knight of the Tower of Landry, written in 1370 and so successful that it went on being read as a sort of textbook right up to the sixteenth century—in fact and edition was published with illustrations by Dürer. In it the knight, who is known to have been an exceptionally kind man, describes how disobedient women must be beaten and starved and dragged around by the hair of the head.

And six pages later Clark speaks about the most famous Saint in the High Middle Ages, whose live I would also consider the result of parental abuse:

In the years when the portal of Chartres was being built, a rich young man named Francesco Bernadone suffered a change of heart.

One day when he had fitted himself up in his best clothes in preparation for some chivalrous campaign, he met a poor gentleman whose need seemed to be greater than his own, and gave him his cloak. That night he dreamed that he should rebuild the Celestial City. Later he gave away his possessions so liberally that his father, who was a rich businessman in the Italian town of Assisi, was moved to disown him; whereupon Francesco took off his remaining clothes and said he would possess nothing, absolutely nothing. The Bishop of Assisi hid his nakedness, and afterwards gave him a cloak; and Francesco went off the woods, singing a French song.

The next three years he spent in abject poverty, looking after lepers, who were very much in evidence in the Middle Ages, and rebuilding with his own hands (for he had taken his dream literally) abandoned churches.

He threw away his staff and his sandals and went out bare-foot onto the hills. He said that he had taken poverty for his Lady, partly because he felt that it was discourteous to be in company of anyone poorer than oneself.

From the first everyone recognised that St Francis (as we may now call him) was a religious genius—the greatest, I believe, that Europe has ever produced.

Francis died in 1226 at the age of forty-three worn out by his austerities. On his deathbed he asked forgiveness of ‘poor brother donkey, my body’ for the hardships he had made it suffer.

Those of Francis’s disciples, called Fraticelli, who clung to his doctrine of poverty were denounced as heretics and burnt at the stake. And for seven hundred years capitalism has continued to grow to its present monstrous proportions. It may seem that St Francis has had no influence at all, because even the humane reformers of the nineteenth century who sometimes invoked him did not wish to exalt or sanctify poverty but to abolish it.

St Francis is a figure of the pure Gothic time—the time of crusades and castles and of the great cathedrals. But already during the lifetime of St Francis another world was growing up, which, for better or worse, is the ancestor of our own, the world of trade and of banking, of cities full of hard-headed men whose aim in life was to grow rich without ceasing to appear respectable.

Of course, Clark could not say that Francesco’s life was a classic case of battered child. Profound studies about child abuse would only start years after the Civilisation series. Today I would say that, since Francesco never wrote a vindictive text—something unthinkable in the Middle Ages that would not appear until Kafka’s letter to his father—, he internalized the parental abuse with such violence that his asceticism took his life prematurely.

What is missing in Clark’s account is that Francesco’s father whipped him in front of all the town people after Francesco stole from his shop several rolls of cloth. After the scourging inflicted by his father, with his own hands, and public humiliation, a citizen of Assisi reminded him that the town statutes allowed the father to incarcerate the rebellious son at home. Pedro shut Francesco in a sweltering, dark warehouse where “Francesco languished without seeing the light except when his father opened the door for Pica [the mother] taking a bowl of soup and a piece of bread.” After several weeks of being locked Francesco escaped and, always fearful of his father, hid in a cave. The earliest texts add that in the cave he often wept with great fear.

Francesco then embarked on a spectacular acting out of his emotional issues with his father. He made a big scene by returning to Assisi, undressing in the town’s square in front of Bishop Guido and addressing the crowd: “Hear all ye, and understand. Until now have I called Pedro Bernadone ‘my father’. But I now give back unto him the money, over which he was vexed, and all the clothes that I have had of him, desiring to say only, ‘Our Father, which art in Heaven,’ instead of ‘My father, Pedro Bernadone.’”

To everyone’s surprise Francesco broke with his wealthy parents forever, thus renouncing any possible reconciliation. So resolute was his parental repudiation, writes a Catholic biographer, that from that day on Pedro and Pica disappear from all the biographies of their son. There is no historical evidence of reconciliation, and no information about his parents or the circumstances of their death.

But I don’t want to diminish the figure of St Francis. Quite the contrary: in my middle teens I wanted to emulate him—and precisely as a result of the abuse inflicted by my father on me. And nowadays our world that has Mammon as its real God—trade, banking and dehumanized cities that are rapidly destroying the white race—, this will always remind me what Clark said about St Francis.

Nevertheless, despite my teenage infatuation with the saintly young man of Assisi, I doubt that poor Francesco’s defence mechanism to protect his mind against his father’s betrayal could be of any help now…

Uncle Adolf’s table talk – 5

“I have dipped into Mein Kampf but never read it: it was written only partly by Hitler, and that is the problem. More important are… Hitler’s table talks: daily memoranda which first Heim (Bormann’s adjutant, whom I interviewed) and then Picker wrote down at his table side”. —David Irving


the-real-hitler
 
Night of 21-22 July 1941

[Gratitude to the Jesuits - Protestant fanaticism - Similarities between Germany and Italy - Dante and Luther - The Duce is one of the Caesars - The march on Rome - a turning-point in history - Delightful Italian towns - Rome and Paris.]
 

When all’s said, we should be grateful to the Jesuits. Who knows if, but for them, we might have abandoned Gothic architecture for the light, airy, bright architecture of the Counter-Reformation? In the face of Luther’s efforts to lead an upper clergy that had acquired profane habits back to mysticism, the Jesuits restored to the world the joy of the senses.

It’s certain that Luther had no desire to mould humanity to the letter of the Scriptures. He has a whole series of reflections in which he clearly sets himself against the Bible. He recognises that it contains a lot of bad things.

Fanaticism is a matter of climate—for Protestantism, too, has burnt its witches. Nothing of that sort in Italy. The Southerner has a lighter attitude towards matters of faith. The Frenchman has personally an easy way of behaving in his churches. With us, it’s enough not to kneel to attract attention.

But Luther had the merit of rising against the Pope and the organisation of the Church. It was the first of the great revolutions. And thanks to his translation of the Bible, Luther replaced our dialects by the great German language!

It’s remarkable to observe the resemblances between the evolution of Germany and that of Italy. The creators of the language, Dante and Luther, rose against the ecumenical desires of the papacy.

Each of the two nations was led to unity, against the dynastic interests, by one man. They achieved their unity against the will of the Pope.

I must say, I always enjoy meeting the Duce. He’s a great personality. It’s curious to think that, at the same period as myself, he was working in the building trade in Germany. Our programme was worked out in 1919, and at that time I knew nothing about him. Our doctrines are based on the foundations proper to each of them, but every man’s way of thinking is a result. Don’t suppose that events in Italy had no influence on us. The brown shirt would probably not have existed without the black shirt. The march on Rome, in 1922, was one of the turning-points of history. The mere fact that anything of the sort could be attempted, and could succeed, gave us an impetus. A few weeks after the march on Rome, I was received by the Minister Schweyer. That would never have happened otherwise.

If Mussolini had been outdistanced by Marxism, I don’t know whether we could have succeeded in holding out. At that period National Socialism was a very fragile growth.

If the Duce were to die, it would be a great misfortune for Italy. As I walked with him in the gardens of the Villa Borghese, I could easily compare his profile with that of the Roman busts, and I realised he was one of the Caesars. There’s no doubt at all that Mussolini is the heir of the great men of that period.

Despite their weaknesses, the Italians have so many qualities that make us like them.

Italy is the country where intelligence created the notion of the State. The Roman Empire is a great political creation, the greatest of all.

The Italian people’s musical sense, its liking for harmonious proportions, the beauty of its race! The Renaissance was the dawn of a new era, in which Aryan man found himself anew. There’s also our own past on Italian soil. A man who is indifferent to history is a man without hearing, without sight. Such a man can live, of course—but what a life?

The magic of Florence and Rome, of Ravenna, Siena, Perugia! Tuscany and Umbria, how lovely they are!

The smallest palazzo in Florence or Rome is worth more than all Windsor Castle. If the English destroy anything in Florence or Rome, it will be a crime. In Moscow, it wouldn’t do any great harm; nor in Berlin, unfortunately.

I’ve seen Rome and Paris, and I must say that Paris, with the exception of the Arc de Triomphe, has nothing on the scale of the Coliseum, or the Castle of San Angelo, or St. Peter’s. These monuments, which are the product of a collective effort, have ceased to be on the scale of the individual. There’s something queer about the Paris buildings, whether it’s those bull’s-eye windows, so badly proportioned, or those gables that obliterate whole façades. If I compare the Pantheon in Rome with the Pantheon in Paris, what a poor building—and what sculptures! What I saw in Paris has disappeared from my memory: Rome really seized hold of me.

When the Duce came to Berlin, we gave him a magnificent reception. But our journey in Italy, that was something else! The reception when we arrived, with all the ceremonial; the visit to the Quirinal.

Naples, apart from the castle, might be anywhere in South America. But there’s always the courtyard of the royal palace. What nobility of proportions!

My dearest wish would be to be able to wander about in Italy as an unknown painter.

Uncle Adolf’s table talk – 1

“I have dipped into Mein Kampf but never read it: it was written only partly by Hitler, and that is the problem. More important are… Hitler’s table talks: daily memoranda which first Heim (Bormann’s adjutant, whom I interviewed) and then Picker wrote down at his table side”. —David Irving


PART ONE: 1941

the-real-hitler
 
Saturday, 5th July 1941

[Aryans and Russians - Necessity of the mailed fist in Russia - Deterioration of soil]
 

What we need is a collective view of people’s wish to live and manner of living.

We must distinguish between the Fascist popular movement and the popular movement in Russia. The Fascist movement is a spontaneous return to the traditions of ancient Rome. The Russian movement has an essential tendency towards anarchy.

By instinct, the Russian does not incline towards a higher form of society. Certain peoples can live in such a way that with them a collection of family units does not make a whole; and although Russia has set up a social system which, judged by Western standards, qualifies for the designation “State”, it is not, in fact, a system which is either congenial or natural to her.

It is true that, in a sense, every product of human culture, every work gifted with beauty can be born only of the effect of the constraint which we call education.

The Aryan peoples are peoples who are particularly active. A man like Krümel works from morning to night; such-and-such another person never stops thinking. In the same way, the Italian is as diligent as an ant (bienenfleissig). In the eyes of the Russian, the principal support of civilisation is vodka. His ideal consists in never doing anything but the indispensable. Our conception of work (work, and then more of it!) is one that he submits to as if it were a real curse.

It is doubtful whether anything at all can be done in Russia without the help of the Orthodox priest. It’s the priest who has been able to reconcile the Russian to the fatal necessity of work—by promising him more happiness in another world.

The Russian will never make up his mind to work except under compulsion from outside, for he is incapable of organising himself. And if, despite everything, he is apt to have organisation thrust upon him, that is thanks to the drop of Aryan blood in his veins. It’s only because of this drop that the Russian people has created something and possesses an organised State.

It takes energy to rule Russia. The corollary is that, the tougher a country’s regime, the more appropriate it is that equity and justice should be practised there. The horse that is not kept constantly under control forgets in the wink of an eye the rudiments of training that have been inculcated into it. In the same way, with the Russian, there is an instinctive force that invariably leads him back to the state of nature. People sometimes quote the case of the horses that escaped from a ranch in America, and by some ten years later had formed huge herds of wild horses. It is so easy for an animal to go back to its origins! For the Russian, the return to the state of nature is a return to primitive forms of life. The family exists, the female looks after her children, like the female of the hare, with all the feelings of a mother. But the Russian doesn’t want anything more. His reaction against the constraint of the organised State (which is always a constraint, since it limits the liberty of the individual) is brutal and savage, like all feminine reactions. When he collapses and should yield, the Russian bursts into lamentations. This will to return to the state of nature is exhibited in his revolutions. For the Russian, the typical form of revolution is nihilism.

I think there’s still petroleum in thousands of places. As for coal, we know we’re reducing the natural reserves, and that in so doing we are creating gaps in the sub-soil. But as for petroleum, it may be that the lakes from which we are drawing are constantly renewed from invisible reservoirs.

Without doubt, man is the most dangerous microbe imaginable. He exploits the ground beneath his feet without ever asking whether he is disposing thus of products that would perhaps be indispensable to the life of other regions. If one examined the problem closely, one would probably find here the origin of the catastrophes that occur periodically in the earth’s surface.

March of the Titans

The following sentences of March of the Titans: The Complete History of the White Race by Arthur Kemp caught my attention:


The collapse of the Roman Empire had left an overwhelmingly mixed race population in Italy, incapable of maintaining the original Roman civilization because they were no longer the same people as the original Romans.

nubia_flavia_in_marketSo weakened, the inhabitants of Italy were no match for the ferocious Goths and other Indo-European tribes who, for over a century, marched up and down the Italian peninsula, plundering and sacking the remains of the great Roman centers at will.

Successive Gothic invaders—including an invasion from across the Mediterranean by Gothic Vandals from present day Algeria—slowly but surely decimated the mixed race population, which went into dramatic decline when supplies from the former empire’s territories dried up.

The Eastern Roman Empire, or Byzantium, paid Germanic mercenaries to re-occupy Italy from time to time, but all these attempts to re-establish the Western Empire in Italy fell on stony ground for the simple reason that the Romans themselves no longer existed.

[The above sentence is so important that instead of summarizing Kemp’s description of the history of Italy in the next pages I’ll omit it so that the reader may ponder in this racial principle to understand Western history under the new paradigm. (Only Hitler and the Nazis seemed to grasp the new paradigm before the Anglo-Saxons destroyed the only enlightened nation that broke away from the previous worldview.) In the final pages of the same chapter, Kemp writes:]

Although Mussolini and Adolf Hitler were allies during World War II, and they are both often called Fascists, this term strictly only applies to Mussolini’s followers, and not to Hitler or his movement.

Essentially the reason for this are that the policies for which National Socialism, or Nazism, espoused, were completely different to that which Mussolini espoused: Fascism essentially had to do with the economic organization of the state according to nationalistic and authoritarian lines, whereas National Socialism had to do with reorganizing the state along racial lines. Anti-Semitism was also a key dividing issue: Mussolini was originally pro-Jewish, and for a long time the head of the Fascist Party in Rome was the Grand Rabbi of that city—while Hitler’s movement had anti-Semitism as one of their central policy positions. Under the influence of Hitler, Mussolini only introduced racial laws and anti-Semitic policies in 1938, but they were nothing like the measures introduced by the Nazis.

The difference between Nazism and Fascism has been obscured after decades of propaganda, yet it is important in the historical context to realize Hitler was not a Fascist, whereas Mussolini was.


Postwar Italy – menace of the south

Apart from losing all of its colonial possessions, a large number of Italians died in the war. This, combined with the natural population increase of the southern Italians, which soon outstripped that of the northern Italians, meant that slowly but surely, Italy started growing darker and darker.

This process, which is by no means complete or total, was significant enough to create a virtually constant state of political anarchy in Italy. Since the end of the Second World War very few Italian governments have been able to last for more than a year in office, and a strong northern separatist emotion has emerged during the last part of the 20th Century, working hard for total separation from the obviously darker and impoverished south of that country.

sicilian-manViolence and lawlessness, which had long since been the trademark of the dark mixed race south of the country (the Mafia), is spreading its tentacles ever further into central and northern Italy as the racial balance shifts—this is a process which is visible to any contemporary observer.

Today Italy is a bi-racial nation—most of the White population is concentrated in the north, while in the south and in Sicily, most of the population are of mixed race. The north/south division in Italy is an active point of political debate in that country, particularly on the economic level. Northern Italy is mostly urban and considerably wealthier than southern Italy, with its businesses accounting for two-thirds of the entire country’s Gross National Product (GNP).

Italy has also served as a major entry point for many illegal Third World immigrants entering western Europe—these developments are reviewed in a later chapter.

From Breivik’s desk

“The nation is divided, half patriots and half traitors, and no man can tell which from which.”

—Mark Twain


Anders_Behring_Breivik

Traitor – classification system – Category A, B and C traitors

This classification system is used to identify various individual cultural Marxist/multiculturalist traitors. The intention of the system is to easier identify priority targets and will also serve as the foundation for the future “Nuremberg trials” once the European cultural conservatives reassert political and military control of any given country.

Any category A, B or C traitor is an individual who has deliberately used his or her influence in a way which makes him or her indirectly or directly guilty of the charges specified in this document: 1-8. Many of these individuals will attempt to claim “ignorance” of the crimes they are accused of.


Category A traitor

- Political leaders (NGO leaders included)

- Media leaders (chief editors)

- Cultural leaders

- Industry leaders

Category A traitors are usually any current Heads of State, ministers/senators, directors and leaders of certain organisations/boards etc. who are guilty of charges 1-8. Category A traitors consist of the most influential and highest profile traitors.

10 per 1 million citizens.
Punishment: death penalty and expropriation of property/funds


Category B traitor

Category B traitors are cultural Marxist/multiculturalist politicians, primarily from the alliance of European political parties known as “the MA 100” (parties who support multiculturalism) and EU parliamentarians. They can be elected and non-elected parliamentarians, their advisors and any public and/or corporate servant who has been and still are indirectly or directly implicated in committing the following acts.

Category B traitors can also be individuals from various professional groups (but not limited to): journalists, editors, teachers, lecturers, university professors, various school and university board members, publicists, radio commentators, writers of fiction, cartoonists, and artists/celebrities etc. They can also be individuals from other professional groups such as: technicians, scientists, doctors and even Church leaders. In addition, individuals (investors etc.) who have directly or indirectly funded related activities. It’s important to note that the stereotypical “socialists”, collectivists, feminists, gay and disability activists, animal rights activists, environmentalists etc., are to be considered on an individual basis only. Not everyone who is associated with one of these groups or movements is to be considered as a cultural Marxist/multiculturalist.

Former category A traitors; Heads of State, Ministers/Senators etc., directors and leaders of certain organisations/boards etc. can be re-classified as category B traitors for practical targeting reasons (they have lost influence and will not yield the same target value/effect as current category A traitors).

Certain ANTIFA leaders or organisers related to ANTIFA movements (and other dedicated members) are considered category B traitors. Non-essential members are considered category C traitors. Many professionals such as for example journalists, influential sociologists or university professors etc. are considered and categorized as category B traitors as we consider them political activists and not merely professionals. They will of course claim ignorance and state that they are apolitical. This strategy might work for them until the day where they are visited by a Justiciar Knight—their judge, jury and executioner.

1000 per 1 million citizens.
Punishment: death penalty and expropriation of property/funds. Punishment can be reduced under certain circumstances.

Category C traitor

Category C traitors are less influential and lower priority targets (often individuals who have facilitated category A and B traitors) but who are still guilty of charges 1-8.

10 000 per 1 million citizens.
Punishment: fines, incarceration, expropriation (considered as acceptable indirect casualties in larger operations where WMDs are involved).

Category D individuals

Category D individuals have little or no political influence but are facilitating category Band C traitors and/or MA 100 political parties/media companies through various means. They are not guilty of charges 1-8 but work with or for individuals who are. The classification is of relevance when calculating/estimating indirect casualties concerning larger operations where WMDs are involved, as any category D individuals is not considered an innocent “civilian” but rather as a secondary servant/facilitator.

20 000-30 000 per 1 million citizens
Punishment: none (not considered civilian)

Number of Category A and B traitors on Western Europe

There are approximately 400 000 category A and B traitors in Western Europe using the current classification system (1010 per million).

France 65 650

Germany 82 820

United Kingdom 62 216

Netherlands 16 665

Belgium 10 807

Sweden 9393

Austria 7839

Norway 4848

Switzerland 498

Luxembourg 7777

Spain 47 167

Italy 60 600

Portugal 10 807

Denmark 5555

Ireland 6060

Greece 11 312

Finland 5353

Iceland 322

Cyprus 800

Malta 417

________________

Source: Breivik’s manifesto

Curt Paul Janz on Nietzsche, 2

Nietzsche_after_catastrophe


Spanish version of this post: here.

Excerpted from Curt Paul Janz’s last volume of his biography, Friedrich Nietzsche. Biographie. Band 3: Die Jahre des Siechtums, Chapter “The Catastrophe”:


On Sunday January 6, 1889 Jacob Burckhardt received a long letter from Nietzsche. While it is true that, from the Genealogy [On the Genealogy of Morals] at least Burckhardt had not followed Nietzsche’s philosophical way, he did continue to be humanely united to his former colleague. For long Burckhardt had watched with concern his state and inquired about it, but this turn towards mental disturbance surprised and deeply affected him.

Burckhardt did immediately what was in his hand: he went immediately with the letter to see Franz Overbeck, whose close contact with Nietzsche he knew. Although their houses were not far apart—from the suburb of St. Alban to the Sevogelstrasse there are only a few hundred meters—, Burckhardt had never felt moved to walk that way. But now, the terrible impression he received prompted him to overcome that barrier. Also for Overbeck it was an alarming surprise to see Jacob Burckhardt into his home.

Following a review of the two letters to Burckhardt and Overbeck, Wille [Prof. Dr. Ludwig Wille, a psychiatrist] had no doubt about how he had to try the case and what they had to do. He urged Overbeck that, without loss of time, to bring the friend from Turin to Basel, before he disappeared in any one of the dubious Italian centers.

Overbeck immediately followed the advice, which seemed more like an order. By doing so he had to weight two considerations: firstly the question of costs. Neither he nor Nietzsche were doing well economically. Professorial fees were then rather scarce. And besides, surely it was not easy to a conscientious teacher to leave without official dispensation for a few days.

In spite of everything, in the night of January 7 he parted to Turin, where he arrived the next day around 2 pm. Given his perennially poor health, the feat demanded a great effort from Overbeck, especially in the middle of winter. 18 hours in those times when trains, insufficiently heated or not heated at all during the night (no sleeper), meant a real sacrifice. But the worst still awaited him.

By his own efforts Overbeck found Nietzsche’s housing in a city unknown to him. The landlord, Fino, was absent. Nietzsche, with his behavior, had finally put Fino in a state of despair, and he was now seeking help from the German consulate and police. The whole family was scattered so that it took some time for Overbeck to find the wife. Only then he approached his friend. In his letter of January 15 to Köselitz he narrates the encounter:

It happened in the last time when it was still possible to get him without official impediments, except his own state. I pass over the moving circumstances in which I found Nietzsche as a pupil of his landlords; which seem to be also characteristic of Italy in general. With the terrible moment as I saw Nietzsche I come again to the principal issue: a terrible moment like no other, and totally different from everything that happened afterwards.

I see Nietzsche in a corner of the armchair, curled up and reading—as it was apparent later, the latest proofs of Nietzsche contra Wagner—, tremendously deteriorated in external appearance. He sees me and rushes towards me, recognizing me he hugs me tightly, and becomes a sea of tears. He goes back then, in convulsions, to sink himself into the armchair. Neither do I find strength, because of the shock, to pull myself on my legs. Did it open at that moment the abyss in which he finds himself, or better, into which he has fallen? In any case, no such thing has been repeated. All of the Fino family was present.

Just as Nietzsche returned to rest there, moaning and with convulsive contractions, the watered bromide that was on the table was given to him. Instantly he relaxed, and, laughing, began to talk about the great reception that was prepared for him at night. Thus Nietzsche moved in a circle of delusions from which he never came out after I lost sight of him; being always clear of mind about me in general and other people, but caught in a full night about him. It happened that, exalting himself without measure, and with strong songs and frenzies on piano, shreds of the ideas were recovered from the world in which he had lived lately.

Then, in short sentences, uttered in a tone indescribably flat, he had us hearing sublime, wonderfully visionary things and unspeakably terrible about himself as the successor of the dead God, tapping all, so to speak, at the piano. Afterwards the convulsions and fits of indescribable suffering returned. But, as said, this only happened in rare and fleeting moments. While I was present, generally the profession statements that he awarded himself dominated: to be the jester of the new eternities, and he, the incomparable master of expression, was unable to represent the enthusiasm even from his joy otherwise than through the most trivial expressions or by a ridiculous dancing and jumping.

Overbeck’s report in his memoirs and letters to Köselitz is very summary. Carl Albrecht Bernoulli was able to complete it:

He then wrote to Peter Gast [Heinrich Köselitz] everything that happened in Turin during the terrible encounter; his hand refused to transcribe to paper the latest and most sordid details. Although occasionally he alluded to this in the most intimate circles, and to me personally he completed by word the description.

Overbeck was also more forthcoming with Möbius, who visited him on April 10, 1902. Möbius informs us:

In Turin he met a Jewish man who volunteered as a caregiver of the crazy (but he was not) and that with the help of his intervention they carried out the risky venture. Nietzsche was in bed and refused to get up. The Jew told him that they were prepared for large receptions and festivities, and Nietzsche got up, dressed and went to the station with them.

There he wanted to embrace all people, but the companion explained him how it was not appropriate for such an important man: and Nietzsche calmed down. Using large quantities of sleeping pills the patient remained quiet during the trip, and thus came the three happily to Basel.

Another visitor to Overbeck, the writer Eduard Platzhoff-Lejeune, based on an earlier conversation with Overbeck, presented the episode thus:

The Turin police was already aware, and only a true kidnapping could prevent a forced entry into a center of that place.

Then, miraculously, a stranger, a German Jew, apparently offered himself [for a fee] to transport the sick. Overbeck agreed and did not repent of his acceptance. With surprising touch the stranger immediately got influence on the wayward sick, something that the friend was not able to.

Nietzsche obeyed as a child, left the bed and dressed. A new outburst became a torture for Overbeck on the way to the station. Shouting and chasing them, Nietzsche was addressing the curious crowd, at the point of nearly thwarting the traveling. The train left while Nietzsche sang a fishermen’s Neapolitan song [?]. That deeply touched the excited friend. The caregiver tried a suggestion: “You’re a prince. In Basel station a festive crowd is expecting you. Come in before it without greeting to the car that is waiting to you!”

The trick worked better than expected. The morning of January 10, 1889, around 8, Nietzsche and his caretakers arrived to Basel. A ready-cab took them to “Friedmatt” where the patient could be entrusted to the care of specialists.

With that Nietzsche stopped being a person acting autonomously.

Dresden: death from above

by Tom Sunic

Originally published
in The Occidental Observer


Dresden

Image of Dresden during
the 1890s before extensive
World War II destruction



What follows below is the English translation of my speech in German which I was scheduled to deliver on February 13, 2013, around 7:00 PM in downtown Dresden. The commemoration of the Dresden February 13, 1945 victims was organized by Aktionsbündnis gegen das Vergessen (action committee against oblivion), NPD deputies and officials from the local state assembly in Dresden.

There were 3,000 leftist antifa demonstrators. The city was under siege, cordoned off into sections by 4,000 riot policemen. The bulk of the nationalist participants, approximately 1,000, who had previously arrived at the central station, were split up and prevented from joining with our group at the original place of gathering. Toward 11:00 PM, when the event was practically over, the riot police did allow our small group of organizers and speakers to march past the barricades down to the central station. There were approximately 40 of us—mostly local NPD officials. On February 14, while still in Dresden, I provided more information as a guest on the Deanna Spingola’s RBN radio show: Hour 1, Hour 2.


Human improvement by terror bombardment

Dresden is only one single symbol of the Allied crime, a symbol unwillingly discussed by establishment politicians. The destruction of Dresden and its casualties are trivialized in the mainstream historiography and depicted as “collateral damage in the fight against the absolute evil—fascism.” The problem, however, lies in the fact that there was not just one bombing of one Dresden, but also many bombings of countless other Dresdens in all corners of Germany and in all parts of Europe. The topography of death, marked by the antifascists, is a very problematic issue for their descendants, indeed.

In today’s “struggle for historical memory,” not all victims are entitled to the same rights. Some victimhoods must be first on the list, whereas others are slated for oblivion. Our establishment politicians are up in arms when it comes to erecting monuments to peoples and tribes, especially those who were once the victims of the Europeans. An increasing number of commemoration days, an increasing number of financial compensation days show up in our wall calendars. Over and over again European and American establishment politicians pay tribute to non-European victims. Rarely, almost never, do they commemorate the victims of their own peoples who suffered under communist and liberal world improvers. Europeans and especially Germans are viewed as evil perpetrators, who are therefore obliged to perpetual atonement rituals.

Dresden is not only a German city, or the symbol of a German destiny. Dresden is also the universal symbol of countless German and countless European, Croatian, Hungarian, Italian, Belgian and French cities that were bombed by the Western Allies, or for that matter that were fully bombed out. What connects me to Dresden connects me also to Lisieux, a place of pilgrimage in France, bombed by the Allies in June 1944; also to Monte Cassino, an Italian place of pilgrimage, bombed by the Allies in February 1944. On 10 June 1944, at Lisieux, a small town that had been dedicated to Saint Theresa, 1.200 people were killed, the Benedictine monastery was completely burnt out, with 20 nuns therein. To enumerate a list of the bombed-out European cultural cities would require an entire library—provided that this library would not be again bombed out by the world improvers. Provided that the books and the documents inside are not confiscated.

In France, during the Second World War, about 70,000 civilians found death under the Anglo-American democratic bombs, the figure reluctantly mentioned by establishment historians. From 1941 to 1944, 600,000 tons of bombs were dropped on France; 90,000 buildings and houses were destroyed.

The establishment politicians often use the word “culture” and “multi-culture.” But their military predecessors distinguished themselves in the destruction of different European cultural sites. European churches and museums had to be destroyed, in view of the fact that these places could not be ascribed to the category of human culture. Further south, in Vienna, in March 1945, the Burgtheater was hit by the American bombers; further to the West in northern Italy, the opera house La Scala in Milan was bombed, as were hundreds of libraries throughout Central Europe. Further south in Croatia the ancient cities of Zadar and Split were bombed in 1944 by the Western world improvers and this panorama of horror knew no end. The Croatian culture town Zadar, on the Adriatic coast, was bombed by the Allies in 1943 and 1944. German politicians and German tourists often make holiday on the Croatian coast; yet along the coast there are many mass graves of German soldiers. On the Croatian island of Rab, where the German nudists like to have fun, there is a huge mass grave containing the bones of hundreds of Germans who were murdered by the Yugo-communists. German diplomats in Croatia have shown no effort to build monuments for those martyred soldiers.

Recently, the so called democratic community put on display a big concern about the ethnic cleansing and the destruction in the former Yugoslavia. It was also quite busy in bringing the Yugoslav and Serbian perpetrators to justice at the Hague tribunal. But those Serbian and Yugoslav perpetrators had already had a perfect role model in Communist predecessors and in their Anglo-American allies. By the late 1944 and early 1945, there were massive ethnic cleansings of Germans in the Yugoslav communist areas. In May 1945, hundreds of thousands of fleeing Croats, mostly civilians, surrendered to the English Allied authorities near Klagenfurt, in southern Carinthia, only to be handed over in the following days to the Yugoslav Communist thugs.

I could talk for hours about the millions of displaced Germans from Silesia, Pomerania, the Sudetenland and the Danube region. In view of the fact that those victims do not fall into the category of communist perpetrators, for the time being I’m not going to ascribe them to the Western world improvers. In hindsight, though, we can observe that the Western world improvers would have never been able to complete their world improvement job without the aid of the Communist thugs, the so-called anti-fascists. Clearly, the largest mass migration in European history, from Central and Eastern Europe, was the work of the Communists and the Red Army, but never would have their gigantic crimes against the German civilians and other Central European nations taken place without deliberate help of the Western world improvers. Well, we are still dealing with double standards when commemorating the WWII dead.

What was crossing the minds of those world improvers during the bombing raids of European cities? Those democratic pilots had good conscience because they sincerely felt that they had to carry out a God-ordained democratic mission. Their missions of destruction were conducted in the name of human rights, tolerance and world peace. Pursuant to their messianic attitudes, down under and below in Central Europe—not to mention down here in Dresden—lived no human beings, but a peculiar variety of monsters without culture. Accordingly, in order to remain faithful to their democratic dogma, those airborne Samaritans had always good conscience to bomb out the monsters below.

ruins DresdenAs the great German scholar of international law, Carl Schmitt, taught us, there is a dangerous problem with modern international law and the ideology of human rights. As soon as one declares his military opponent a “monster” or “an insect,” human rights cease to apply to him. This is the main component of the modern System.

Likewise, as soon as some European intellectual, or an academic, or a journalist critically voices doubts about the myths of the System, he runs the risk of being branded as a “rightwing radical,” “a fascist,” or “a monster.” As a monster he is no longer human, and cannot be therefore legally entitled to protection from the ideology of human rights. He is ostracized and professionally shut up. The System boasts today about its tolerance toward all people and all the nations on Earth, but not toward those that are initially labeled as monsters or right-wing extremists, or fundamentalists. In the eyes of the world improvers the German civilians standing on this spot in February 1945, were not humans, but a bizarre type of insect that needed to be annihilated along with their material culture. Such a mindset we encounter today among world do-gooders, especially in their military engagement in Iraq or Afghanistan.

We are often criticized for playing up the Dresden victims in order to trivialize the fascist crimes. This is nonsense. This thesis can be easily reversed. The establishment historians and opinion-makers, 70 years after the war, are in need of forever renewing the fascist danger in order to cover up their own catastrophic economic failures and their own war crimes.

Moreover, establishment historians do not wish to tell us that that each victimhood in the multicultural System is conflict prone; each victimhood harps on its own uniqueness and thrives at the expense of other victimhoods. This only points to the weakness of the multicultural System, ultimately leading up to the balkanization, civil war and the collapse of the System. An example: The current victimological atmosphere in today’s multicultural System prompts every tribe, every community, and every non-European immigrant to believe that only his victimhood is important and unique. This is a dangerous phenomenon because each victimhood stands in the competition with the victimhood of the Other. Such victimhood mentality is not conducive to peace. It leads to multiethnic violence and makes future conflict inevitable.

With today’s trivialization and denial of the liberal-communist crimes against the German people, inflicted before, during, and after the Second World War, there can be no climate of mutual understanding and reconciliation, but only an atmosphere of false myths and conflicting victimhoods, whereby each person and each tribe conceives of himself as a victim of his respective neighbor.

The classic example is again the collapse of the former state of Yugoslavia, an artificial state in which for fifty years different peoples were the victims of Communist historians and propaganda, with the Croatian people being demonized as a “Nazi nation.” In 1991, after the end of communism, the result was not mutual interethnic understanding, but mutual hatred and a terrible war in which each side called the other “fascist.” What awaits us soon here in the EU, is not some exotic and multicultural utopia, but a balkanesque cycle of violence and civil wars.

Dear ladies and gentlemen, dear friends. Let us not fall prey to illusions. Dresden must serve as a warning sign against all wars, as well as a place for commemorating the innocent victims. But Dresden can become tomorrow a symbol of titanic catastrophes. What awaits us in the coming years, one can already imagine. Some of you, some of us, with a longer historical memory, know well that a world has come to an end. The age of liberalism has been dead for a long time. The incoming times will be bad. But these incoming and approaching times offer us all a chance.

______________________

For the broad context of what the Allies did to Germany
see Hellstorm: The Death of Nazi Germany
(1944-1947)

On Kenneth Clark’s “Civilisation”

Kenneth Clark may have been clueless about the fact that race matters. Yet, that our rot goes much deeper than what white nationalists realize is all too obvious once we leave, for a while, the ghetto of nationalism and take a look at the classics, just as Clark showed us through his 1969 TV series Civilisation.

Compared to the other famous series, Clark’s was unsurpassed in the sense that, as I have implied elsewhere, only genuine art—not science—has a chance to fulfill David Lane’s fourteen words.

By “art” I mean an evolved sense of beauty which is almost completely absent in today’s nationalists. Most of them are quite a product of Jewish modernity whether with their music, lifestyles or Hollywood tastes, to a much greater degree than what they think. For nationalism to succeed an evolved sense of female beauty has to be the starting point to see the divine nature of the white race. In Clark’s own words, “For all these reasons I think it is permissible to associate the cult of ideal love with the ravishing beauty and delicacy that one finds in the madonnas of the thirteenth century. Were there ever more delicate creatures than the ladies on Gothic ivories? How gross, compared to them, are the great beauties of other woman-worshiping epochs.”

Below, links to excerpts of most of the chapters of the 1969 series, where Clark followed the ups and downs of our civilisation historically:

“The Skin of our Teeth”

“The Great Thaw”

“Romance and Reality”

“Man—the Measure of all Things”

“The Hero as Artist”

“Protest and Communication”

“Grandeur and Obedience”

“The Light of Experience”

“Heroic Materialism”

Civilisation’s “The Hero as Artist”

For an introduction to these series, see here.

Below, some indented excerpts of “The Hero as Artist,” the fifth chapter of Civilisation by Kenneth Clark, after which I offer my comments.

Ellipsis omitted between unquoted passages:

In the Middle Ages men had been crushed by this [ancient Roman] gigantic scale. They said that these buildings must be the work of demons, or at best they treated them simply as natural phenomena—like mountains—and built their huts in them.

But by 1500 the Romans had begun to realise that they had been built by men. The lively and intelligent individuals who created the Renaissance, bursting with vitality and confidence, were not in a mood to be crushed by antiquity. They meant to absorb it, to equal it, to master it. They were going to produce their own race of giants and heroes.

In what is commonly described as the decadence of the papacy, the Popes were men of unusual ability who used their international contacts, their great civil service and their increasing wealth in the interests of civilisation. Nicholas V, the friend of Alberti and the humanists, was the first man who saw that papal Rome could revive the grandeurs of pagan Rome.

Pius II, a poet, a lover of nature and of beauty in all its forms, yet gave up his life in an attempt to save Christendom from the Turks. Even Sixtus IV, who was as brutal and cunning as he looks in the wall-painting by Melozzo da Forlo, founded the Vatican library and made the great humanist, Platina, its first prefect. Pope Julius II was able by magnanimity and strength of will to inspire and bully three men of genius—Bramante, Michelangelo and Raphael. Without him Michelangelo would not have painted the Sistine Ceiling, nor Raphael decorated the papal apartments, and so we should have been without two of the greatest visible expressions of spiritual power and humanist philosophy.

The above paragraphs remind me what Nietzsche said almost at the end of his Antichrist: that without the Reformation and Counter-Reformation these rather pagan popes would have brought Christianity down. Clark continues:

The old St Peter’s was one of the largest and most ancient churches in the western world, and certainly the most venerable. Julius decided to pull it down and put something far more splendid in its place. The first step in this visible alliance between Christianity and antiquity was taken when Julius decided to pull down the old basilica.

The men of fifteenth-century Florence had looked back eagerly to the civilisation of Greece and Rome. They sought for ancient authors and read them with passion, and wrote to each other in Latin. Their greatest source of pride was to write prose like Cicero. But the man who really assimilated antique art and recreated it, with all its expressive power made more vital and more intense, was Michelangelo.

Seen by itself the David’s body might be some unusually taut and vivid work of antiquity; it is only when we come to the head that we are aware of a spiritual force that the ancient world never knew. I suppose that this quality, which I may call heroic, is not part of most people’s idea of civilisation. It involves a contempt for convenience and a sacrifice of all those pleasures that contribute to what we call civilised life. It is the enemy of happiness.

And this of course can only remind me of Harold Covington’s extreme contempt for those so-called “nationalists” who watch TV while eating so tasty Nachos that only grow their bellies; always reluctant to come home and fight for the creation of a new nation. Clark continues:

And yet we recognise that to despise material obstacles, and even to defy the blind forces of fate, is man’s supreme achievement; and since, in the end, civilisation depends of man extending his powers of mind and spirit to the utmost, we must reckon the emergence of Michelangelo as one of the great events in the history of western man.

[His drawing of Battle of Cascina] was the first authoritative statement that the human body—that body which, in Gothic times, had been the subject of shame and concealment, that body which Alberti has praised so extravagantly—could be made the means of expressing noble sentiments, life-giving energy and God-like perfection. It was an idea that was to have an incalculable influence on the human mind for four hundred years.

And this brings us back to Rome, and to the terrible Pope. Julius II was not only ambitious for the Catholic Church: he was ambitious for Julius II, and in his new temple he planned to erect the greatest tomb of any ruler since the time of Hadrian. It was a staggering example of superbia; and Michelangelo at that time was not without the same characteristic. I need not go into the question of why the tomb was never built. There was a quarrel—heroes do not easily tolerate the company of other heroes. Nor does it matter to us what the tomb was going to look like. All that matters is that some of the figures made for it survive, and they add something new to the European spirit—something that neither antiquity nor the great civilisations of India and China had ever dreamed of. As a matter of fact the two most finished of them were derived from antiques, but Michelangelo has turned them from athletes to captives, one of them struggling to be free—freedom from mortality?—and the other sensuously resigned.

People sometimes wonder why the Renaissance Italians, with their intelligent curiosity, didn’t make more of a contribution to the history of thought. The reason is that the most profound thought of the time was not expressed in words, but in visual imagery.

For centuries writers on Michelangelo have criticised Julius for taking him off the tomb, on which he had set his heart, and putting him to work on the painting of the Sistine Ceiling, although he always said he hated the act of painting.

Michelangelo’s power of prophetic insight gives one the feeling that he belongs to every epoch, and most of all, perhaps, to the epoch of the great Romantics, of which we are still the most bankrupt heirs. It is the attribute that distinguishes him most sharply from his brilliant rival, Raphael. Michelangelo took no interest in the opposite sex; Leonardo thought of women solely as reproductive mechanisms. But Raphael loved girls as much as any Venetian.

The convention by which great events in biblical or secular history could be enacted only by magnificent physical specimens, handsome and well-groomed, went on for a long time—till the middle of the nineteenth century. Only a very few artists—perhaps only Rembrandt and Caravaggio in the first rank—were independent enough to stand against it. And I think that this convention, which was an element in the so-called grand manner, became a deadening influence on the European mind. It deadened our sense of truth, even our sense of moral responsibility; and led, as we now see, to a hideous reaction.

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