Reflections of an Aryan woman, 57

But that is not all. One of the most depressing features of the Dark Age drawing to a close is, certainly, the disorderly proliferation of man.

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Editor’s note: From my childhood I became a racist when we would visit the centre of the great mongrel metropolis. What my eyes saw is what I’d eventually come to call ‘the Neanderthal marabunta’.

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Malthus, more than a hundred and fifty years ago, had already pointed out the dangers of this, but only from an economic point of view. Our optimists today try to answer him by evoking the new possibilities of exploiting the land, and even the sea, which, according to them, would allow the human population of the planet to increase fivefold or even tenfold without worry. But the dangers remain, and are becoming more and more apparent, because the overall increase in the number of people is no longer ‘arithmetical’ but geometrical. And it seems that now, more than a quarter of a century after the defeat of National Socialist Germany, the point has been reached beyond which nothing, other than a gigantic external intervention, human or divine, can stop it, and even more so to decrease the world’s population to the level where it would cease to endanger the natural balance.

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Editor’s note: So far my insistence on pointing out Chris Martenson’s course (summary: here) has not made a dent in the racialists’ worldview. Savitri ignored scientific data on what now is called peak oil because neo-Malthusian studies weren’t yet popular. Never mind that Martenson and others who talk about energy devolution are normies. What matters is whether their calculations are correct. As I have also said several times, among the racialists only the Austrian-Canadian Ernest Ronin has predicted that when energy devolution hits the fan, later in this century, a window of opportunity will open for our cause.


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The Führer, more than anyone else, was aware of the catastrophe that the overpopulation of certain regions of the earth already represented (and increasingly does represent), and not only because of the inevitable push, in the more or less short term, of the ‘hungry’ against the ‘haves’. What he feared most of all was the gradual disappearance of the natural elites, the racial elites, under the rising tide of biologically inferior multitudes, even if here and there some dikes could be erected to protect us. For it is to be noted that, at least in our time, it is generally the least beautiful and least gifted races, and within the same people the less pure elements, that are the most prolific.

What the defender of the Aryan elite also feared was the lowering of the physical, intellectual and moral standards—the loss of quality—of generations to come. This is, in fact, a result, statistically fatal, of the unlimited increase in the number of humans, even of the ‘good race’, as soon as natural selection is undermined by the widespread application of medicine, surgery and especially preventive hygiene: factors of reverse selection.

Thus, his programme for the purification of the German people (and, if he had won the war, of the peoples of Europe) included, in parallel with the sterilisation of incurable people who were able, despite of everything, to justify their existence by some useful work, the pure and simple physical elimination (without suffering, that is to say) of beings who were only human in the form such as monsters, idiots, mentally retarded people, lunatics, etc.

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Editor’s note: This reminds me of something funny. A few years ago, on a typical American white nationalist forum, a commenter said with conviction that the Third Reich’s eugenics programme was just another slander, similar to the holocaust myth. That happened a few years ago. What these folk didn’t realise, and still don’t get it, is that the Reich represented a transvaluation to pre-Christian values. In other words, axiologically the anti-Semites on the continent where I live are still Jew obeyers, a term I explained a couple of days ago.

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It was conceived in the sense of a definitive return to healthy Nature, which prompts the bird to throw the malformed chick out of the nest; also, in the spirit of the breeder who, from the litters of his female dogs or mares, removes and eliminates without hesitation the deformed subjects, or those too weak to survive without constant care. It was conceived in the spirit of the divine Lycurgus, the lawgiver of Sparta. And it is known that Lycurgus’ laws were dictated to him by the Apollo of Delphi, the ‘Hyperborean’.

Unfortunately, this programme was only just beginning to be implemented. The fierce opposition of the Christian churches, both Catholic and Protestant, resulted in a ‘postponement’ of the drastic measures it contained. Adolf Hitler was too much of a realist to confront head-on, in the midst of war, the prejudices that eleven hundred years of Christian anthropocentrism had embedded in the psyche of his people, and to brave the indignant sermons of a few bishops, such as von Galen of Münster. It would have been difficult to put these prelates (and this one in particular) under arrest without risking a highly inappropriate disaffection with the regime among their flock. This is how (among others) the ten thousand or so mentally retarded in the Bethel asylum near Bielefeld survived the fall of the Third Reich. I repeat: unfortunately.

It remains true that the physical elimination of human waste was, together with the sterilisation of the incurably ill but still ‘usable’ as ‘economic factors’, an essential aspect of Adolf Hitler’s fight against decadence. The pure and simple suppression of medicine and preventive hygiene was, logically, another aspect. And it would, no doubt, have been another aspect in a victorious Germany which would have dominated Europe, and would have had nothing to fear from the threat of prolific multitudes, massed in the East, under the command of leaders who had identified the old cause of Panslavism with that of Marxism-Leninism.

But, given the tragic reality of this threat—and the threat represented, in the longer term, and for quite different reasons, by the overpopulation of the whole Earth—it was first of all this foreign proliferation that putting a brake was needed.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 55

Chapter IX

The reversal of anthropocentric values

Awaken, shake your chained forces
Let the sap flow in our dry furrows
Make sparkle, under the flowering myrtles
An unexpected sword, as in the Panathenaea

—Leconte de Lisle (‘L’Anathème’, Poèmes Barbares)

Demographic growth is, as I have tried to show above, both a consequence and an ever-renewed cause of the development of techniques: a consequence of the preservation, thanks to the perfection of medicine and surgery, of an ever greater number of people who normally should not be living; and a cause of the efforts of inventive minds to create means of satisfying the needs, real or supposed, of a population that is multiplying, often dispite the absence of protective hygiene, and all the more so if such hygiene is widespread.

It is a vicious circle, and all the more tragic because it can probably only be broken on a global scale. It would be criminal to encourage, among the noblest and most gifted peoples, a decline in birth rate which would expose them, on equal terms (or simply in the fatal peace of a ‘consumer society’ indefinitely extended as technical progress) to give away to human varieties qualitatively inferior to them, but dangerously prolific, and whose demography is out of control.

No one was more aware of this fact than Adolf Hitler, and he gave it a place in his politics that it had never had under any regime, even a racist one, in the past. And it is perhaps in this more than in anything else that the blatant opposition of the Third German Reich to the leading trends of the modern world appears.

These tendencies are expressed in the hundred thousand times repeated precept ‘Live and let live’ applied (and this is to be emphasised) to men of all races as well as of all degrees of physical or mental health or illness, but to man alone. It is the contrary precept that our protectors of the sacrosanct two-legged mammal apply to quadrupeds, cetaceans, reptiles, etc., as well as to the winged gentry and the forest. Here, it is a question of ‘letting live’ at most what doesn’t hinder the indefinite expansion of any variety of man, and even, at the limit, only what favours this expansion. This seems to be the case in Communist China, where only ‘useful’, that is to say exploitable, animals have the ‘right to live’.

The eternal glory of Adolf Hitler—and perhaps the most striking sign that he was, par excellence, the man ‘against Time’: the man of the last chance for recovery, no longer partial but total—is that he transvalued this order of things. It is his glory forever to have, even in a country during the war, ‘let Nature live’: protect as far as possible the forests and their inhabitants; take a clear stand against vivisection; rejecting for himself all meat products and dreaming about gradually abolishing the slaughterhouses ‘after victory’, when he would have had his hands free. [1]

It is his glory that he has, in addition, mocked the misplaced zeal of lovers of ‘pedigree’ dogs, cats or horses, indifferent to the purity of their own offspring. He applied this time to man, in the name of the human elite, the very principle that had, for millennia, regulated man’s behaviour towards the beast and the tree: ‘Let live’ only that what didn’t hinder the flourishing of this elite; ultimately, only what favoured it—or at least he did all that was materially possible in this sense in a world where, despite his power, he still had to reckon with constant opposition.


[1] Statement by Adolf Hitler to J. Goebbels, 26 April 1942.

Published in: on December 1, 2021 at 2:02 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 55  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 52

It is certain that the decision of the young corporal Hitler, of the 16th Bavarian infantry regiment, to ‘become a politician’ [1] —a decision taken at the announcement of the capitulation of November 1918 in the tragic circumstances of which everyone knows[2]—isn’t enough to explain the extraordinary career of the man who was one day to become the master of Germany, if not of Europe.

Moreover ‘politics’, paradoxical as it may seem, had never been for the Führer the main issue. In a talk on the night of 25 to 26 January 1942, he confessed that he had devoted himself to it ‘against his will’ and saw it as ‘only a means to an end’.[3] This ‘end’ was the mission to which I referred above. Adolf Hitler spoke of it in Mein Kampf and in many speeches, such as the one he gave on 12 March 1938 in Linz where he said, among other things: ‘If Providence once called me out of this city to lead the Reich, it was because it had a mission for me in which I believed, and for which I lived and fought’.

His confidence to act, driven by an impersonal Will, both transcendent and immanent, of which his individual will was only the expression, was pointed out by all those who approached him from near or from afar. Robert Brasillach mentioned the ‘divine mission’ with which the Führer felt invested. And Hermann Rauschning said that he ‘saw himself as a prophet whose role exceeded that of a statesman by a hundred cubits’. ‘No doubt’, he adds, ‘he takes himself quite seriously as the herald of a new humanity’.[4] This is in line with the statement of Adolf Hitler himself, also reported by Rauschning: ‘He who understands National Socialism only as a political movement knows little about it. National Socialism is more than a religion: it is the will to create the overman’.

Moreover, despite his political alliance with Mussolini’s Italy, the Führer was perfectly aware of the abyss separating his biologically based Weltanschauung from Fascism, which remained alien to the ‘stakes of the colossal struggle’ that was about to begin, that is, the meaning of his mission. ‘It is only we National Socialists and we alone’, he said, ‘who have penetrated the secret of the gigantic revolutions that are coming’.

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Editor’s note: This is so true that it reminds me of yesterday’s post on this site, in which we saw how a scholar well versed in NS fails to cross the axiological river. The greatness of the NS men is noticeable in that in the last century Himmler’s select group had already crossed it. And the main shortcoming of white nationalism on the other side of the Atlantic, eighty years later, is that they continue to resist crossing it because of Christian ethics.

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‘And that is why we are the only people, chosen by Providence, to make our mark on the coming century’.[5] In fact, few German National Socialists had penetrated this secret. But it was enough that he, Adolf Hitler, the leader and soul of Germany, had penetrated it to justify the ‘choice’ of the forces of life, for a people is in solidarity with its leader, at least when he is racially one of its sons. In other words, Germany’s priority was, in this case, a consequence of the lucidity of its Leader, of the ‘magic vision’—of the consciousness of the initiate living in the eternal Present—which, alone of all the politicians and generals of his time, he possessed.

It is in this vision that we must seek the source of the Führer’s hostility towards the modern world—both capitalist and Marxist—and its institutions. There is no need to return to the process of the superstition of equality, parliamentarianism, democracy, etc., which is nothing more than the superstition of ‘man’ applied to politics: a trial which the founder of the Third Reich made again and again, in Mein Kampf as in all his speeches, before the multitudes, as well as before the few. Adolf Hitler also attacks features of our time which, while not at the root of this superstition (which is infinitely older) nevertheless reinforces its tragic character. These are, in particular, the rapid disappearance of the sense of the sacred, the resurgence of the ‘technical spirit’, and above all perhaps the disordered proliferation of man in inverse proportion to his quality.

While knowing that they could only be, in the name of Christian anthropocentrism, his worst adversaries, Adolf Hitler was careful not to attack the churches openly, let alone ‘persecute’ them. He did so out of political skill, and also out of fear of depriving the people of an existing faith before another had penetrated deeply enough into their souls to replace it advantageously.

This didn’t prevent him from observing that the time of living Christianity was over; that the Churches represented nothing more than a ‘hollow, fragile and deceptive religious apparatus’[6] which was not even worth demolishing from the outside, since from the inside it was already crumbling of its own accord, and cracking on all sides. He didn’t believe in a resurrection of the Christian faith. In the German countryside it had always been a ‘veneer’, a ‘shell’ which had kept intact the old piety under it. And it was now a question of reviving and directing it. In the urban masses he saw nothing that revealed any awareness of the sacred. He realised that ‘where everything is dead, nothing can be relighted’.[7]

In any case, Christianity was, in his eyes as in ours, nothing but a foreign religion imposed on the Germanic peoples, and fundamentally opposed to their genius. Adolf Hitler despised those responsible men who had been able for so long to content themselves with such childishness as those that the Churches taught the masses. And he was never short of sarcasm when, before those few to whom he knew he could confess the least popular aspect of his thinking, he spoke of Christianity as ‘an invention of sick brains’.[8]


[1] ‘Ich aber beschloss, Politiker zu werden’, Mein Kampf, ed. 1935, p. 225.

[2] Adolf Hitler, gas-gnawed, threatened with blindness, learned the news at Pasewalk Military Hospital where he had been evacuated.

[3] In the presence of Himmler, Lammers, Zeitzler—Libres Propos, (op. cit.) p. 244.

[4] Hermann Rauschning, Hitler m’a dit, 13th French edition, 1939.

[5] Ibid., p. 147.

[6] Ibid., p. 69.

[7] Ibid. p. 71.

[8] Free Remarks on War and Peace (op. cit.), p. 141.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 40


Chapter VII

Technical development
and ‘fight against time’

‘What a sun, warming the already old world
shall ripen the glorious labours again
who shone in the hands of virile nations?’

Leconte de Lisle (L’Anathème’, Poèmes Barbares)

It should be noted that the Churches, which theoretically should be the custodians of all that Christianity may contain in terms of eternal truth, [1] have only opposed scholars when the latter’s discoveries tended to cast doubt on, or openly contradicted, the letter of the Bible. (Everyone knows Galileo’s disputes with the Holy Office about the movement of the Earth.)

But there was never, to my knowledge, any question of their protesting against what seems to me to be the stumbling block to any unselfish research of the laws of matter or life; namely, against the invention of techniques designed to thwart natural purpose—what I shall call techniques of decadence. Nor did they denounce and condemn categorically, because of their inherently odious character, certain methods of scientific investigation such as all forms of vivisection.

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Editor’s Note: They don’t mind tormenting animals because they are Neanderthals; that is to say, they belong to an inferior psychoclass to ours: just as the pre-Columbian Amerinds belonged to an inferior psychoclass to that of the Spaniards. Is this passage from my Day of Wrath remembered (in the chapter ‘Sahagún’s exclamation’)?:

I don’t believe that there is a heart so hard that when listening to such inhuman cruelty, and more than bestial and devilish such as the one described above, doesn’t get touched and moved by the tears and horror and is appalled; and certainly it is lamentable and horrible to see that our human nature has come to such baseness and opprobrium that [Aztec] parents kill and eat their children, without thinking they were doing anything wrong.

Like Sahagún, the priestess and the priest of the four words (‘eliminate all unnecessary suffering’) throw our hands up in horror when the man of today torments defenceless creatures, to the point of precognizing the appearance of a Kalki who avenges them (and us). Savitri continues:

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They could not, given the anthropocentrism inherent in their very doctrine. I recalled above that the vision that the esoteric teaching of Christianity opened to its Western initiates in the Middle Ages did not go beyond ‘Being’. But no exoteric form of Christianity has ever gone beyond ‘man’. Each of them affirms and emphasises the ‘apartness’ of that being, privileged whatever his individual worth (or lack of it) whatever his race or state of health. Each one proclaims concern for his own best interest, and the help it offers him in the search for his ‘happiness’ in the hereafter, certainly, but already in this lower world. Each of them is concerned only for him, ‘man’, always man, contrary even to the ‘exoterisms’ of Indo-European origin (Hinduism; Buddhism) which insist on the duties of their followers ‘towards all beings’.

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Editor’s Note: Remember my post from exactly a month ago: This very Catholic painter asked me at a family dinner: “¿Por qué los animales todavía existen?” (‘Why do animals still exist?’).

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It is, I think, precisely to this intrinsic anthropocentrism that Christianity owes the short duration of its positive role in the West insofar as, despite all the horror attached to the history of its expansion, a certain positive role can be attributed to it. Once weakened and death, the influence of its true spiritual elite—that which, until perhaps the 14th or 15th century, was still attached to Tradition—nothing was easier for the European than to move from Christian anthropocentrism to that of the rationalists, theists or atheists; to replace the concern for the individual salvation of human ‘souls’, all considered infinitely precious, by that of the ‘happiness of all men’ at the expense of other beings and the beauty of the earth, due to the proliferation of the techniques of hygiene, comfort and enjoyment within the reach of the masses.

Nothing was easier for him than to continue to profess his anthropocentrism by merely giving it a different justification, namely, by moving from the notion of ‘man’, a privileged creature because he was ‘created in the image of God’—and, what is more, of an eminently personal ‘god’—to that of ‘man’: the measure of all things and the centre of the world because he’s ‘rational’, that is to say, capable of conceiving general ideas and using them in reasoning; capable of discursive intelligence hence of ‘science’ in the current sense of the word.

The concept of ‘man’ indeed underwent some deterioration in the process. As Antoine de Saint-Exupéry has shown, the human individual, deprived of the character of ‘creature in the image of God’ that Christianity conferred on him, finally becomes a number within a pure quantity and a number that has less and less importance in itself. Understandably, everyone is sacrificed ‘to the majority’. But we no longer understand why ‘the majority’, or even a collectivity of ‘a few’, would sacrifice themselves or even bother for another one.

Saint-Exupéry sees the survival of a Christian mentality in the fact that in Europe, even today, hundreds of miners will risk their lives to try to pull one of them out of the hole where he lies trapped under the debris of an explosion. He predicts that we are gradually moving towards a world where this attitude, which still seems so natural to all of us, will no longer be conceivable.

Perhaps it is no longer conceivable in communist China. And it should be noted that, even in the West where it is still conceivable, the majorities are less and less inclined to impose simple inconveniences on themselves to spare one or two individuals, not of course of death but discomfort and even real physical suffering. The man who is most irritated by certain music, and who isn’t sufficiently spiritually developed to isolate himself from it by his asceticism, is forced to endure, in the buses, and sometimes even in the trains or planes, the common radio or the transistor of another traveller if the majority of passengers tolerate it or even more so enjoy it. They are not asked for their opinion.

One can, if one wishes, with Saint-Exupéry, prefer Christian anthropocentrism to that of the atheistic rationalists, fervent of experimental sciences, technical progress and the civilisation of well-being.

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Editor’s Note: This is true, and the best way to show it is to compare the most famous television series introducing the West: Kenneth Clark’s Civilisation (1969), Jacob Bronowski’s The Ascent of Man (1973) and Carl Sagan’s Cosmos (1980). Obviously, the series by Christian Clark has its problems, but at least he transmits the spirit of the Aryan through art. Bronowski and Sagan on the other hand present civilisation from the point of view of science and technology: something that betrays the essence of the Aryan and his notion of the numinous.

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It is a matter of taste. But I find it impossible not to be struck by the internal logic that leads, without a solution of continuity, from the first to the second and from the latter to Marxist anthropocentrism for which man—himself a pure ‘product of his economic environment’—taken en masse is everything; taken individually, worth only what his function in the increasingly complicated machinery of production, distribution and use of material goods for the benefit of the greatest number. It seems to me impossible not to be struck by the character quite other than revolutionary and of Jacobinism at the end of the 18th century; and Marxism (and Leninism), both in the 19th and in the 20th.


[1] Offered to the faithful through the symbolism of sacred stories and liturgy.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 39

But this slowly decadent Hellenic world, which, after having been subjected to Christianity was only to be reborn to detach itself more and more from ‘Europe’ without being able or willing, even today, to integrate with it, is characterised by the boom in experimental sciences and their applications.

The thirst to study the phenomena of Nature and to discover its laws (that satisfy reason and is becoming more widespread as the traditional science of the priests of Greece and Egypt, fruit from a direct intellectual intuition of the very principle of these laws) becomes rarer there. And above all, there was a growing determination, as there was later during the Renaissance and even more so in the 19th and 20th centuries, to use these physical laws to construct devices of practical use—such as the endless screw, the inclined screw and forty other machines whose invention is attributed to Archimedes such as the ‘burning mirrors’, enormous magnifying glasses using which this same man of genius set fire to the Roman ships that blocked Syracuse, or the ‘compression fountains’, or robots, of Heron.

Anatomy, physiology and the medical art which is based on both are, and this too is to be noted, in the spotlight. If it is true that in the 17th century Aselli and Harvey were already foreshadowing Claude Bernard, it is no less true that at the end of the 4th century B.C., two thousand years earlier, Erasistratos and Herophilus were foreshadowing not only Aselli and Harvey but also the famous physiologists, physicians and surgeons of the 19th and 20th century.

Of course, there is a long way to go from Herophilus’ automata to modern computers, just as there is a long way to go from Herophilus’ dissections and, four hundred years later, Galen’s dissections, however horrific they may have been, to the atrocities of organ or head transplanters, or even to those of cancer specialists, carried out today in the name of scientific curiosity and ‘in the interest of mankind’.

There is a long way to go in terms of results, from the embryonic technique of the Hellenistic world, and later the Roman world, to that which we see developing in all areas around us, and even to that of the 16th century. But it is no less true that in these two periods when a form of traditional religion relaxed before being definitively cut off from its esoteric base, there was a resurgence of interest in the experimental sciences and their applications, a reawakening of man’s desire to dominate the forces of Nature and living beings of other species than his own, with a view to the profit or convenience of as many people as possible.

This is not yet the excessive mechanisation and mass production that the 19th century would inaugurate in Europe and that the 20th intensified with all the consequences that we know. But it was already the spirit of the scientists whose work had, in one way or another, prepared this evolution: the spirit of experimental research to apply the information gained to the material comfort of man, to the simplification of his work and the prolongation of his physical life, that is to say, to the fight against natural selection.

The machine enables the individual or the group to succeed without innate strength or special ability, and the drug or the surgical operation prevents even the most useless and uninteresting patient from leaving the planet and giving up his place to the healthy man, more valuable than he.

It is difficult not to be impressed by the ever-increasing importance, both in the last centuries of the ancient world, in the early modern period, and in our own time, of experimentation on living beings to gain more complete information about the structure and functions of bodies and apply it to the art of healing—or trying to heal at any cost. These are times when, as today, the physician, the surgeon and the biologist are honoured as great men and when vivisection—older, of course, since as early as the sixth century B.C. Alcmaeon is said to have dissected animals, but increasingly encouraged thanks to unrestricted anthropocentrism—is regarded as a legitimate method of scientific research.

There are, therefore, precedents. And we would no doubt find others, corresponding to other collective declines, if the history of the world were better and more uniformly known. But it seems that the further back in time we go, the less certain traits that bring the most sophisticated ancient civilisations closer to today’s mechanised world are evident. I am thinking, for example, of those very old metropolises of the so-called Indus Valley civilisation, Harappa and Mohenjodaro, where archaeologists have attested to the existence of seven- or eight-storey buildings, and pointed to the enormous mass production of earthenware vessels and other objects, all of them perfectly made but all hopelessly similar. How can we not be struck by this uniformity in quantity and imagine, in the workshops from which these mass-produced objects emerged, on the assembly line, a robotization of the worker that already, five or six thousand years later, prefigured that of the ‘human material’ of our factories?

And how can we fail to see in the successive Aryan invasions which, from the 4th millennium before the Christian era if not earlier, that came up against this ultra-organised world—mechanised, as far as it was possible at the time—and destroyed it (while assimilating, certainly, the best that its elite could offer). How can we fail to see in them the blessed instruments of a recovery?

How can we fail to see in their work the installation of the Vedic civilisation in India: a halt, at least momentarily, in the downward march of the Vedic civilisation?: a halt in the downward march that the course of our Cycle represents, especially in the Dark Age, then close to its beginning: an attempt to fight ‘against Time’ undertaken by the Aryas under the impulse of the Forces of Life as were to be undertaken, centuries later, still driven by these same Forces by invaders of the same race, the Hellenes and Latins at the decline of the Aegean and Italic cultures, technically too advanced; the Romans, at the decline of the Hellenistic world, the Germans, at the decline of the Roman world?

But the hold of mechanisation on the civilisation of Harappa and Mohenjo-Daro—modest mechanisation, moreover, since it was still only a matter of mass production of crafts—was to be less fatal than that which the Mediterranean and then the Western world underwent, respectively in the time of Archimedes, then Heron and the ergastulas of Carthage, Alexandria, then Rome, and in the 18th century and especially the 19th and nowadays. The world of the Indus Valley still had, even in its decline, something else to give to its successors than recipes for production. It is said that they learned at least some forms of Yoga. In the same way, the Hellenistic and later the Greco-Roman world even in its most advanced decadence retained, if only in the Neo-Pythagoreans and Neo-Platonists, something of the essence of ancient esotericism. This was, along with what was eternal in the teaching of Aristotle, assimilated into esoteric Christianity, survived in Byzantium and gave rise there, as well as in the West throughout the Middle Ages, to the flowering of beauty that we know: beauty is the visible radiation of Truth.

But of the treasures of the Middle Ages—of all that it had preserved of the eternal Indo-European Tradition, despite its rejection of the forms that this had taken in Germania and in the whole of the north of the continent, as in Gaul before the appearance of Christianity—the narrowly ‘scientific’ spirit of the Renaissance, and above all of the centuries that followed, wanted, or was able, to retain nothing. If we are to believe René Guénon and a few other well-informed authors, these treasures would have been put beyond the reach of the West as early as the 14th century, or at the very least the 15th, as soon as the last direct heirs of the secret teachings of the Order of the Temple disappeared.

The interest of so many 19th-century writers in the Middle Ages remains, like the 16th-century infatuation with classical antiquity and Greco-Roman mythology, attached to the most picturesque and superficial aspects of that past. The proof is that, for them, it goes hand in hand with the most naive belief in ‘progress’ and the excellence of generalised literacy as the surest way to hasten it (we may recall the pages of Victor Hugo on this subject). The link with immemorial Indo-European wisdom, and even with the little that Christianity has managed to assimilate from it after having destroyed—by snatch or by violence, from the Mediterranean to the North Sea and the Baltic—all the exoteric expressions, is indeed cut.

And it is in the place of this ancient wisdom that the West is seeing a true religion of the laboratory and the factory take shape and spread and flourish: a stubborn faith in the indefinite progress of man’s power, and I repeat, of any ‘man’, ensured by the ‘enslavement’ of the forces of Nature, that is to say, their use in parallel with the indefinitely increased knowledge of its secrets. It is in its place that he sees it imposing itself, and no longer alongside it, as in India or Japan and wherever peoples of ‘traditional’ civilisation have, reluctantly, and while clinging to their souls, accepted modern techniques.

This leads to the ‘conquest of the atom’ and the ‘conquest of space’ (so far, of the tiny space between our Earth and the Moon; less than half a million of our poor kilometres). But we are not discouraged. Soon, say our scientists, it will be the entire solar system that will fall within the ‘domain of man’. The solar system and then, for why stop?, ever-larger portions of the physical Beyond ‘without bottom or edge’. This also leads—at the cost of what horrors of experimentation on a world scale!—to the Luciferian dream of the indefinite prolongation of corporeal life with, already, the terrible practical consequence of the efforts made so far to reach it: the unrestrained pullulation of man, and more particularly of the lower man at the expense of the noblest flora and fauna of the earth and of the human racial elite itself.

Published in: on October 30, 2021 at 1:40 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 39  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 34

Note that I say nothing about the political regime in this world of living automatons. I’m not trying to ask what it might be, because that question is irrelevant.

The deeper one sinks into uniformity from below, created and maintained by dirigisme with no other ideal than that of ever-increasing production, with a view to the well-being of the greatest number—in other words, the more it moves away from the type of hierarchical social organism that ceases to be a living pyramid as it once was in all civilisations and becomes a nameless, grey porridge brewed not by artists, still less by sages, but by clever people devoid of any awareness of extra-human values working for the immediate, in the narrowest sense of the word—the more it is like this the less the form of government matters.

There is still, theoretically at least, a difference between the condition of an assembly line worker in the Cadillac factories and that of an assembly line worker in some industrial complex in the Marxist world; between a saleswoman in a supermarket in Western Europe or the USA and that of a food distributor in a canteen anywhere behind the iron curtain. And the list of parallels could go on and on.

In principle, the worker in the ‘free world’ is not obliged to accept conditioning. When the siren sounds, or when the monster shop closes, he can do what he wants, go where he wants, use his leisure time as he pleases. Nothing forces him physically to buy drinks for his mates at the local café, or in monthly instalments the indispensable TV set or the no less ‘indispensable’ car. There are no political, or semi-political, semi-cultural meetings which he is forced to attend, on pain of finding himself, the next day, without a job or, worse still, suspected of deviationism and incarcerated—whereas in the USSR or China there are some and how! (according to the echoes we have of it; I repeat, I don’t know, first hand, the Marxist world).

Nothing would prevent a worker or an office employee or a saleswoman in the free world from using her leisure time as I would use it in his place if, for whatever reason, I had to work in a factory, an office or a supermarket to pay my bills. Nothing would prevent him provided that he finds a home secluded enough or soundproofed not to be bothered by the neighbours’ radio or television, and a manager or building owner complaisant enough to allow him to keep some domestic animal around, should that be his pleasure. Then perhaps his leisure hours would be truly blessed, and his modest flat a haven of peace.

Then perhaps he (or she) could, after spending an hour or two in silence, completely free himself entirely from the persistent noise of machines (or the light music imposed in certain workshops or shops); or the blinding glare of lights, of the atmosphere of people, have a quiet supper, alone or amid his family, walking his dog under the trees of some not too busy boulevard, and absorb himself, before the hour of sleep, in some nice read.

Then perhaps, but only then, the progress of machinery would guarantee him leisure, which he would use to cultivate himself, the more he would become ‘man’ again, in the most honest sense of the word; and the more one could, to some extent, speak of a ‘liberating technology’—although I could never be persuaded that even two hours a day spent in the depressing atmosphere of the factory or the office, or the modern department stores, are not, on balance, more exhausting than ten or twelve hours employed in some interesting work—in some art, such as that of the potter or the weaver of bygone ages.

But for this to happen, the worker, the proletarian, in the countries of the ‘free world’, who, in principle, can do what he wants after his working hours, would have to want something other than what he is conditioned to want. His ‘freedom’ resembles that of a young man, brought up since childhood in the atmosphere of a Jesuit boarding school, to whom one would say: ‘You are now of age. You are free to practice whatever religion you like’.

One student in ten million will practice something other than the strictest Catholicism; and the very one who breaks away from it will, most of the time, retain its imprint for the rest of his life.

In the same way, even in the ‘free world’ where, in theory, all ideas, all faiths, all tastes are accepted, the man of the masses and, increasingly, that of the ‘free’ intelligentsia, is, from childhood, caught up in the atmosphere of technical civilisation, and stultified by it and by all its ‘progressive’, humanitarian or pseudo-humanitarian, and pseudo-scientific publicity—the propaganda of ‘universal happiness’ by material comfort and purchasable pleasures. And he no longer wishes to break free of it.

One individual in ten million violently disengages from it, and turns his back on it, with or without ostentation, as the painter Delvaux did; as a few anonymous people do every day without even bothering to leave the banal building where they have made their room the sanctuary of a life that is anachronistic without necessarily appearing to be.

The only thing that might be said in favour of the ‘free world’, as opposed to its enemy brother, the Marxist world, is that it doesn’t take police sanctions against this exceptional individual—unless, of course, we express our hostility to today’s mores in the form of Hitlerism. And even in this respect there is a little less constraint than among the Communists in power: one can, everywhere in the ‘free world’, except, no doubt, in the unfortunate Germany, whose soul the victors of 1945 killed, have a portrait of the Führer on one’s bedside table, without fear of indiscreet inspections followed by legal sanctions.

What could be said in favour of the Marxist world, however, is that the latter has, despite everything, a faith—based on false notions and real counter-values, that is undeniable if we take a stand from the viewpoint of the eternal, which is that of Tradition, but finally, a faith—whereas the so-called ‘free’ world has none at all. The militant of values other than those exalted by official communist propaganda is likely to find himself one day in some ‘correction camp’ only if he pushes his temerity to the point of forgetting that he is in the underground, and must remain there.

______ 卐 ______

Editor’s Note: This interview with a Serbian intellectual who lived in the Spanish island Gran Canaria (where I lived for ten months) woke me up ten years ago to the fact that today’s West is more totalitarian than Eastern Europe in the time of Breshnev. Savitri continues:

______ 卐 ______

But the mass of the indoctrinated, who form the majority of the population there, will have the impression that they are working—and working hard—for the advent of something that seems great to them and that they love, whether it be the world revolution of the proletarians, the union of all Slavs under the aegis of holy Russia (this ideal is, it seems, that of more than one Russian Communist), or the domination of the yellow race through universal Communism. Industrial or agricultural production—that in the name of which so much eminently dull work has to be done—leads, in the final analysis, to such grandiose goals. It’s more exciting than the safe and neat little life culminating in the Saturday or Friday night drive to Monday morning.

Both worlds are, in fact, abominable caricatures of the hierarchical societies that once claimed to be, or at least wanted to be, as faithful images as possible of the eternal order of which the cosmos is the visible manifestation. The technical civilisation of the ‘free world’ opposes the unity in diversity which these societies possessed with the despairing uniformity of the man who is mass-produced, without direction, without impetus—not that of the water in a river, but that of a heap of sand whose grains, all insignificant and all similar, would each believe themselves to be very interesting.

The dictatorship of an increasingly invasive proletariat, on the other hand, opposes it with a uniformity of marching robots, all driven by the same energy: robots whose absence of individuality is a wicked parody of the deliberate renunciation of the individual, conscious of his place and role, in favour of that which is beyond him. The zeal for work and the irresistible push forward of these same automatons who believe they are devoted to the ‘happiness of man’ counterfeits the ancient efficiency of the masses who built, under the direction of true masters, monuments of beauty and truth: the pyramids, with or without floors, of Egypt, Mesopotamia or Central America; the Great Wall of China; the temples of India and those of Angkor; the Colosseum; the Byzantine, Romanesque, or Gothic cathedrals…

Of the two caricatures, the second, the Marxist, is arguably more clever in its crudeness than the other. To see this, one need only look at the number of people of real human worth who have fallen for it and who, in all sincerity, convinced that they were guided by an ideal of liberation and disinterested service, have swelled the ranks of the militants of the most fanatical form of Anti-Tradition that has yet appeared. This can be seen in Europe as well as in other regions—in India, in particular, where the Communist leaders are recruited mainly from the Aryan castes, strange as that may be. There is something in the very rigour of Communism that attracts certain characters eager for both discipline and sacrifice; something which makes them see the worst kind of slavery under the disguise of self-sacrifice, and the most laughable narrow-mindedness under the guise of a sacred intolerance.

The caricature of the ‘free world’ is less dangerous in the sense that it is outwardly ‘less resembling’, and therefore less capable to appeal to elite characters. But it is more dangerous in that, being less outrageous, it is at first sight less shocking to those whom Marxism repels, precisely because they have discovered in it the features of a false religion.

Having none of the attributes of a ‘faith’ it reassures them, encouraging them to believe that thanks to democratic ‘tolerance’—a tolerance which, as I have said, extends to all but us Hitlerites—they will be able to continue to profess in peace all the cults (all the exoterisms) which are dear to them: Christianity or Judaism in the West; Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, elsewhere; even one of these in the historical domain of another—why not, when the individual believes himself to be everything, and arrogates to himself, therefore, the right to choose everything?

They don’t realise that the very mentality of the technocratic world, with all its emphasis on the immediately and materially useful, the ‘functional’, and therefore the increasingly extensive applications of the sciences and pseudo-sciences at the expense of any detachment, is the antithesis of any disinterested thirst for knowledge as well as of any love of works of art and also of beings because of their beauty alone. They don’t realise that it can only accelerate the severing of any exoteric religion or philosophy from esotericism, without which it has no eternal value, and thus precipitate the ruin of all culture.

They don’t realise this because they forget that disinterested knowledge, the blossoming of art worthy of the name and the protection of beings (including man insofar as he responds to what his noun, Anthropos, ‘he who looks or reaches upwards’ would lead one to expect) go hand in hand, beauty being inseparable from truth, and culture being nothing if it doesn’t express both.

They forget—or have never known—that, deprived of their connection with the great cosmic and ontological truths they should illustrate, exoteric religions very quickly become fables to which no one attaches credence anymore; degenerate philosophies become idle chatter and political doctrines, recipes for electoral success; and that the technocratic world, with its eminently utilitarian approach to all problems, with its anthropocentrism coupled with its obsession with quantity, diverts even the best minds from the search and contemplation of eternal truths.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 32

It is natural that he should want to do nothing to help ‘save’ a civilisation whose demise he wishes to see, and that the people who admire it should, more or less vaguely, smell the enemy in him. It is no less natural that a doctrine that runs against the tide of Time—a doctrine that preaches, in the name of a Golden Age ideal, revolt, and even violent action, against the ‘values’ of our decadent age and its institutions—should arouse his enthusiasm and secure his support: he is himself an individual of those I have called ‘men against Time’.

But why do the people who are the submissive and obedient children of our time turn out to be so dissatisfied and anxious? Why is it that this ‘progress’, in which they so firmly believe, doesn’t bring them, in the exercise of their profession, that minimum of joy without which all work is a chore?

It is because the technical environment doesn’t only act on the masses; it creates them from scratch. As soon as technical development exceeds a certain ‘critical point’, which is difficult to define, the human community, naturally hierarchical, tends to break up. Little by little it is replaced by the mass; the mass, that is to say above all the great number, with little or no hierarchy, because of unstable, shifting and unpredictable quality.

Quality is (statistically) always in inverse proportion to quantity. And the most nefarious technique from this point of view—the one most directly responsible for all the consequences of the indiscriminate formation of human masses on the surface of the globe—is undoubtedly medicine: the most harmful because it is the one that is in the most flagrant opposition to the spirit of Nature from one end of the scale of living beings; that which, instead of seeking to preserve the health, and any kind of biological priority of the strong, strives to cure diseases and prolong the lives of the weak by keeping alive the incurable, the monsters, the idiots, the insane, and all sorts of people whose removal in a society founded on sound principles would take for granted.

The result of the progress made by this technique—achieved at the cost of the most hideous experiments, practised on perfectly healthy and beautiful animals, which are tortured and dislocated, always in the name of man’s ‘right’ to sacrifice everything to his species—is that the number of men on earth is increasing in alarming proportions, while their quality decreases. You can’t have quality and quantity. You have to choose.

It is now a fact that the population of the world is growing geometrically; that, above all, the population of the hitherto ‘underdeveloped’ countries is growing faster than any other. These countries have not yet reached the technical level of the industrialised countries, but they have already been sent a host of doctors; they have already been indoctrinated into taking ‘hygienic measures’ which they didn’t know about, when they were not outright imposed on them.

As a result, the traditional occupations like working the land or various crafts are no longer sufficient to absorb the countless energies available. There will be unemployment and famine, unless mechanised industries are installed everywhere, that is to say, unless the immense majority of the population, whose numbers have quadrupled in thirty years, are turned into proletarians; unless they are torn away from their traditions, wherever they have retained any, and are forced into factories and work that, by its very nature—because it is mechanical—cannot be interesting.

Production will then skyrocket. It will be necessary to sell what has been manufactured. To do this, it will be necessary to persuade people to buy what they neither need nor want, to make them believe that they need it and to instil in them the desire for it at all costs. This will be the task of advertising.

People will fall for this deception because there are already too many of them to be moderately intelligent. It will take money for them to acquire what they don’t need, but have been persuaded to want. To earn it quickly, to spend it right away, they will agree to do boring jobs, jobs in which there is no creative element and that in a smaller society, with a slower life, nobody would want to do.

They will accept them, because technology and propaganda will have turned them into an increasingly uniform, or rather formless, multitude in which the individual exists, in fact, less and less while imagining himself to have more and more ‘rights’, and aspiring to more and more purchasable enjoyments—a caricature of the organic unity of the old hierarchical societies, where the individual thought himself nothing, but lived healthily and usefully, in his place, as a cell of a strong and flourishing body.

The key to discontent in everyday life, and especially in working life, is to be found in the two notions of multitude and haste.

Published in: on October 19, 2021 at 12:39 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 32  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 23

In my first new contact with Europe, after the disaster of 1945, I wrote to a Hindu correspondent, after quoting Nietzsche’s phrase on the intermediate character of man, ‘a rope stretched between animality and superhumanity’. ‘The rope is now broken. There are no more men on this godforsaken continent; there is only a superhuman minority of true Hitlerians, and… an immense majority of apes’.

______ 卐 ______

Editor’s Note: What I call ‘the Neanderthals’.

______ 卐 ______

Such then was the contrast between the dazzling elite of the faithful, whom I exalted in the first of my post-war books[1]: ‘those men of gold and steel, whom defeat cannot deter, whom terror and torture cannot break, whom money cannot buy’—and the rest of the Europeans.

Since then, I have seen this precious minority gradually renew itself, while remaining profoundly the same—like the waters of a lake fed by a river. Many of the Alten Kämpfer (old militants) of the glorious years have died, and more than grew weary of waiting for the impossible return of the dawn—or of what they had so long taken to be ‘a dawn’—of the Aryan renaissance, and, without having died in the flesh, have sunk into the apathy of those who no longer hope, even though hope was indispensable to them. Only the Strong remained who had no use for hope because, while contributing through their activity (and by the magical fervour of their thought, when all action is forbidden to them) to the immemorial struggle against the Powers of disintegration, they have transcended Time. Only those who do not need to ‘believe’, because they know, are left standing.

And around these few survivors of the wreckage of the most beautiful of races, I have seen, in the course of this quarter of a century, a hard and silent elite of young people grouping—consciously known to each of them or not, it does not matter—an elite very few in number, no doubt, but oh joy! of a quality which the vast hostile world doesn’t suspect (and which it could not alter even if, one day, it suddenly imposed itself upon it). I have seen growing here and there, outside of what may seem to the historian our definitive ruin, the miraculous fruits of the unparalleled ordeal of boys and girls of twenty strong enough, already, to do without hope as well as success; intelligent enough to understand once and for all that Truth does not depend on the visible.

One of them[2] said to me in 1956, and others have repeated to me more than ten years later: ‘I oppose and will continue all my life to oppose the current of decadence, convinced as I am of the eternity of the Hitlerian ideal, although I know that we will not see, until the end of time, the equivalent of the Third German Reich. We must fight ceaselessly and without fail, even knowing in advance that we are overwhelmed; one must fight, because this is the duty—the function—of the Aryan of our time, and of all times to come’.

I then thought of Goebbels’ words uttered amidst all the horror of the disaster: ‘After the flood, us!’ Was it the nature of this disaster to bring forth to the continent for which the false civilisation is destined—and how precisely!—to be swept away, a few young people (mostly Germans, but not necessarily) whose spontaneous mentality, corresponding exactly to the teachings of the Bhagawad-Gita, matches that of the very prototype of the Arya of old? And was the resurrection, in our time, of the ethic of imperturbable serenity within untiring action—the wisdom of the Divine Warrior—to be the result of the Passion of Germany?

Perhaps. If so, it was worth surviving the disaster to witness this resurrection. It was worth wandering from year to year among all the apes of the ‘consumer societies’ to make sure, finally, that the spirit of the Leader and the Master would not disappear with the death of the last of the militants of the old guard, but would continue to animate, in its hardness and its purity, a spiritual as well as racial aristocracy, which had not been born in 1945.

This spiritual as well as racial aristocracy—this elite, conscious of the eternity of the basic principles of Adolf Hitler’s doctrine, and living according to them in all simplicity—is, for us, the true ‘man’: the man who strives for superhumanity through personal and collective discipline, through the selection of blood, through the cultivation of ancestral honour and divine indifference to all that is not essential; through the humility of the individual before the Race and before the eternity it reflects; through the contempt for all cowardice, all lies and all weakness.

And I repeat: if we find any of these characteristics elsewhere than in those who openly or secretly confess the same doctrine as we do; if we even find it in people who fight us and hate us, or think they hate us because they don’t know us, we salute, in those who have them, beings worthy of respect. They have in them the stuff of what they could and should be, but they don’t use it or misuse it. They are, in most cases, our own brothers of the race, or men of other races, among the most gifted. Something in them redeems them before the immanent and impersonal Justice which sends every being who, rightly or wrongly, professes to think, where he deserves to go, and which has hitherto prevented them—and will always prevent many of them—from slipping and sinking into that mass which neither feels nor thinks according to its law; the simian majority of mankind, which, like liquids or pasty substances, takes on the shape of the vessels that contain it, or the mark of the seal that has, once and for all, struck it.

During this quarter of a century, I have gradually rediscovered this category of people whom my atrocious shock with post-war Europe had at first withdrawn from my attention: the men of goodwill, the good people who keep their word and are capable of a good deed that brings them no profit; who, for example, would go out of their way to rescue an animal without, however, being capable of extreme sacrifice, even of sustained, daily, total action for the benefit of anyone.

They are not the Strong, and certainly not us. But they are not apes. In an intelligent sorting, they should be spared. Among their children, there could be future militants of Hitlerism—as their opposite. A reading, a conversation at the crucial moment, a small thing, can decide the evolution of each of them. One must be careful: not to despise what is healthy, but not to waste one’s time and energy in trying to hold back on the slope what, in any case, is predestined—condemned by nature—to sink into the mass of non-thinkers; a mass that is sometimes usable but never respectable and a fortiori never likeable.

He is not ‘man’ in the sense that we understand it, man, a valid candidate for true superhumanity; nor is he the ‘good man’, sound in body and soul, fundamentally honest and kind, well disposed towards all that lives, whom we ‘deny’. In other words, it is not to him that we deny more ‘dignity’ and hence more consideration than a simple thing; not to him, but to this caricature of man, increasingly common in the world in which we live. It is this that we refuse to include in the denotation of the concept of ‘man’, for the simple reason that it does not have the connotation, that is to say, it does not possess the essential qualities and capacities that quite naturally serve as attributes in possible judgements where the word ‘man’ is used as a subject.

Any judgment in which a concept is used as a subject is necessarily a hypothetical judgment. To say that ‘man thinks’, or that he is a ‘thinking being’, is to say that if any individual is ‘a man’—if he possesses upright posture, speech—it follows that he is also capable of thinking. In case he is not able to do so, the upright posture and the articulate word, and the other features which accompany these, are insufficient to define him—and do not oblige anyone to treat him as ‘a man’.

Now, a person does not think if he tells you, in all seriousness, that a piece of information is ‘certainly correct’ because it was transmitted to him by his television set, or especially that a value judgement must ‘certainly’ be accepted because he has read the statement in a newspaper, magazine book, or on a poster, wherever it is printed. It does not ‘think’ any more than does a gramophone whose needle faithfully follows record grooves. Change the record, and the machine will change its language or its music.

In the same way, change the television broadcasts, which millions of families watch every night with ear and eye; change the radio programs; pay the press to print other propaganda, and encourage the publication of other magazines and books, and in three months you will change the reactions of a people—of all peoples—to the same events, to the same political or literary figures, to the same ideas. Why, great Gods, should we treat as ‘men’ those millions of gramophones of flesh and blood who do not ‘think’ any more than their metal and Bakelite colleagues?

The latter cannot think, and it would be absurd to ask them to. They have neither brains nor nerves. They are objects. The individual—the two-legged mammal—who comes to me and insists that ‘six million’ Jews, men, women and children, died in the gas chambers of the German concentration camps, and who gets angry if I show him that this number has one (or perhaps two) extra zeros, is worse than an object.

______ 卐 ______

Editor’s Note: Today the internet exists, and we can see images that from 1915 to 1938 (before the so-called Jewish holocaust began), the Jewish press was already talking about 6 million dead Jews!

______ 卐 ______

He has a brain, but does not use it, or uses it only to dumb himself down more and more, refusing any opportunity to exercise what little critical thinking he still possesses after more than forty years of anti-Hitler conditioning. This kind of propaganda started already before 1933: between 1920 and 1930. I was in Europe then and remember it—and how!

Moreover, he dares to find in others, or in the men of old, blind faith, absolute trust in a teaching or a teacher. He blames (or mocks) the people of the Middle Ages for believing without question everything the Church told them and everything written in the Gospels, as if the authority of the Church and the Gospels were not equal to that of television or the magazine. He refuses to admit, because the propaganda he has ingested has told him otherwise, that we are not and have never been ‘conditioned’—at least, those of us who count.

Why, then, should I give him more ‘respect’ than to an object—especially since, precisely because of his nearly perfect indoctrination, he has become for me, for the cause I serve, totally useless? What if, moreover, he is not even good?—if I know, having seen him in action, that he would not hesitate to tear off a tree branch that is in his way, or to throw a stone at a dog? Why—in the name of what—should I feel obliged to prefer him to the dog he once injured, or the tree he mutilated in passing? In the name of his ‘human dignity’?

What dignity is that of a living, evil, dangerous gramophone, capable of inflicting gratuitous suffering and creating ugliness! I deny this ‘dignity’ there. Should I love him ‘because he is my brother’? The tree and the dog and all living beings, beautiful and innocent, who at least have no ideas, neither their own nor those of television, are my brothers. I do not, in any way, sense that this individual is more my brother than any of them. Why should I give him priority over them? Because he walks, like me, on his hind legs?

I don’t think that’s a good reason. I don’t care about standing upright when it doesn’t go hand in hand with real thought and a superior man’s character: a character from which all meanness, all smallness is excluded. And when the articulated word serves only to express ideas which had not been created by the one who thinks he has them, but merely received them—and false ideas to boot—, I prefer, by far, the silence of animals and trees.

______ 卐 ______

Editor’s Note: I find it impressive that what Savitri wrote when I was a child resonates so strongly with my own philosophy. That’s why I am now calling myself a priest and Savitri a priestess…


[1] Gold in the Furnace, written in 1948-1949.

[2] Uwe G., born on 21 July 1935.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 22

We are accused of ‘denying man’ by placing the last of the healthy animals, the smallest healthy plant—the last of the dandelions, perfect on its level—above the human waste, the mentally retarded, let alone the idiot, and the animal or plant aristocracy, above the Untermensch, even the apparently ‘normal’; the raceless and characterless human being, smug and cowardly; petty; incapable of thinking for himself, and essentially selfish.

We are reproached for advocating the physical suppression of the demented, the profoundly retarded, the idiots and monsters who, at taxpayers’ expense, clutter up the asylums of ‘civilised’ countries, and the sterilisation of people afflicted with dangerous heredity.

We are reproached, perhaps more than anything else, for having allowed German physiologists and doctors to experiment on human enemies of the Reich, taken from the concentration camps, even though they were forbidden to use animals; in other words, for having shown more consideration for the animal than for the actual or even potential ideological enemy. Above all, this is what most of our adversaries, stuffed with ‘denazifying’ propaganda for more than twenty-five years, have in mind when they declare that we ‘deny man’.

______ 卐 ______

Editor’s Note: Anti-Nazi chutzpa has no limits. The so-called Ringworm affair was a scandal involving approximately twenty thousand immigrated Jews who were mistreated between 1948 and 1960 with ionizing radiation on the head and neck area in Israel.

The idea was to poison and eventually dispatch Sephardic children, considered inferior by the Ashkenazi caste at the founding of their New Jerusalem. Israeli activists in our century consider the X-rays that these children suffered to the point of sterilisation as the most prominent example of injustices in the 1950s. But I don’t even blame them: I blame an astronomically imbecile US whose evangelicals believe they are the chosen people.

______ 卐 ______

The first step would be to agree on the connotation (and hence the denotation) of this concept of ‘man’, of which so much is made. It is, apparently, the connotation they give it that interests our detractors the most. They call ‘man’ any upright primate capable of articulate speech, to whom they automatically attribute ‘reason’ and, if they are Christians, an immortal soul created in the image of god. But it is the upright posture and the articulate language, traits that are obvious, that inform these friends of man, about the (less obvious) presence of other characteristics. What they do with all living things that exhibit these two distinctive features—what am I saying?—even of those who are completely deprived of them but who possess the human form… because our adversaries place the idiot above the most beautiful of beasts!

Here we see, once again, how true it is that the denotation of a concept is in inverse proportion to its connotation. What gives our opponents the persistent impression that we ‘deny man’ is that we are much more demanding than they are concerning the connotation of this term, and that, consequently, its denotation, in our eyes, narrows accordingly.

It is not enough for us to grant a primate the name of man, and the respect that is attached to it in cultivated languages, that this creature stands preferably on its hind legs, and is capable of emitting articulated sounds that have, for it and others, a meaning. It is not enough for us, all the more so, that it should have, without even presenting these two characters, a silhouette vaguely similar to that of one of us.

We want him to possess that minimum of intelligence which will enable him to think for himself, and that minimum of nobility will make him incapable of certain reactions to obstacles, inaccessible to certain ‘temptations’, impervious to certain debasing influences, and a fortiori incapable of petty or cowardly acts, ugly acts. We do want, if not to ‘love’, at least to respect ‘all men’ in the same way as we respect all beautiful living beings, animals and plants, in which we feel more or less attenuated reflections of the divine, the eternal.

But for this to happen they must be ‘men’ in the strongest sense of the word. We are ready to respect, as individuals, even the people, ideological adversaries, even racial enemies, whom we fought collectively yesterday, and whom we will fight again tomorrow—to respect them if, taken separately, they respond to what we expect of ‘man’: if they combine, with a non-enslaved intelligence, the qualities of character which (statistically) distinguish the races I call superior—and first of all, of course, our Aryan race and even the exceptionally noble individual from the statistically inferior races.

This will not prevent us from fighting them, if they are ideologically dangerous; all the more dangerous because they have more intrinsic value. In other words, we respect as ‘men’ those who, if they are not already ideologically ours, would be worthy of becoming so in our eyes.

Published in: on October 2, 2021 at 2:22 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 22  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 20

This is not to say that, statistically, the Aryan is not closer to the ‘idea of the perfect man’ than the man of the other races, even the noble ones, just as within the Aryan race itself the Nordic is statistically closest to the same ‘idea’, in the Platonic sense of the word. Warrior courage is perhaps one of the virtues most equally prevalent in both the purebred (or nearly purebred) Aryan and the non-Aryan.

But there are traits which, while not exclusive to the Aryan or more particularly to the Nordic, are undoubtedly more common in the latter than elsewhere. I will mention three of them: physical beauty, which counts as soon as one speaks of a visible being; the fact that he can be relied upon, that he doesn’t promise what he cannot give, that he doesn’t lie (or lies less than most nationals of other races) and finally, the fact that he has more respect than they generally have for the animal and the tree, and more kindness than they have towards all living beings.

And this last trait seems to me essential. I cannot, indeed, consider as superior any race—any human community, however outwardly beautiful and gifted it may be—if too large a percentage of the individuals composing it despise and treat ‘like things’ the beautiful living beings who, by nature, cannot take a stand for or against any cause, and whom, therefore, it is impossible to hate.

The superior man—the candidate for superhumanity—can not be the torturer or even the shameless exploiter of living nature. He will be the admirer—I would even say, the adorer; the one who, to use the words of Alfred Rosenberg, ‘sees the Divine in all that lives: in the animal; in the plant’.[1] He can be—indeed, he must be—merciless towards man, the enemy of this natural Order, with which he has identified himself, and whose beauty he is enamoured of.

But far from inflicting pain on an innocent creature, or allowing others to inflict it directly or indirectly, if he can prevent it he will, whatever is in his hands, ensure that every beast he meets lives happily; that every tree that grows in his path escapes, too, from the innate barbarity of the inferior man, ready to sacrifice everything for his own benefit, his own comfort, or for the benefit and comfort of his own, even of ‘humanity’.

Any overestimation of oneself is a sign of stupidity. All anthropocentrism is an overestimation of the collective ‘self’ of the two-legged mammal, all the more blatant as this self doesn’t exist; they are only collective selves each corresponding to more or less extensive and more or less homogeneous human groups. Hence it follows that all anthropocentrism is a sign of double stupidity, and generally of collective stupidity.

What are we reproached with when we say that we ‘deny man’? We are reproached for rejecting anthropocentrism. We are reproached for placing the notion of the elite—living aristocracy, human or non-human—above the notion of any man, and for sacrificing not only the sick to the healthy, the weak to the strong, the deficient to the normal individual or above normal, but also the mass to the elite. We are reproached for taking the elite of our Aryan race as the end, and the mass (all human masses, including those in our Aryan countries) as the means. And when I say ‘mass’ I do not mean people, but average and below-average humanity, not so much as to what its representatives know, but as to what they are: as to their character and their possibilities. Our Führer came from ‘the people’, but did not belong to ‘the mass’.

We are reproached for our disgust with the failed creature who has irrevocably turned his back on the ideal archetype of his race, our horror of the morbid, the quirky, the decadent, of everything that deviates without return from the crystalline simplicity of elementary form, absolute sincerity and deep logic. We are reproached for our militant nostalgia for the time when the visible order of the world faithfully reflected the eternal order, the divine order; for our fight for the reestablishment, at whatever cost, the reign of eternal values—our fight against the tide of Time.


[1] Quoted by Maurice Bardèche in Nuremberg ou les faux-monnayeurs, first edition, p. 88.