Pallas Athena

Mauricio’s words yesterday, that he will echo Savitri’s:

… call with a resounding prayer worthy of the 4 words:
Death to America! Death to China! Death to Russia! Death to all nations!
Death to all the Subhuman Scum of this world!
May the Great Suffering come in our lifetimes!
May it bring the End of this long Cycle of Unnecessary Suffering!
May it bring the Beginning of a new Cycle of Necessary Struggle!

—remind me that Jung said that the ultimate archetypal symbol for wisdom was represented by goddesses like Pallas Athena. How is it? Let’s compare for a moment the best post-1945 racialist thinkers, Savitri and William Pierce.

While it is true that Pierce reached the highest heights a pro-Aryan could reach with Who We Are and The Turner Diaries, he failed to say in a non-fiction book that the vision of his Diaries, where billions are exterminated in a race war, is the noblest goal we can imagine as long as the surviving Aryans live up to the 4 words (‘eliminate all unnecessary suffering’).

Never forget the measures the Third Reich took against cruelty to animals! It is key information why the ultimate symbol of wisdom has to be represented by a compassionate woman, like Pallas Athena / Savitri Devi, in the darkest hour for the fair race that began in 1945.

Published in: on March 31, 2022 at 9:45 am  Comments Off on Pallas Athena  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 103

When will the inevitable Avenger come? He who will restore order, and put ‘every being in its place’? Is it my devotion to him that makes me—and has always made me—so fond of all the Forces that dominate from on high and seem to want to crush this insolent worm that is man?

Is he, in particular, who, in April 1947, made me greet the sight (and the subterranean roar!) of the Hekla in full eruption as one greets the divinities in the temples in India, and, in an ecstasy of joy, intone in Bengali the hymn to Shiva: ‘Dancer of Destruction, O King of the Dance’?

Was it he who urged me to walk all night along one of the seven lava flows, under a pale violet sky, flooded with moonlight, streaked with green aurora borealis fringed with purple, barred by a long black cloud of volcanic smoke—a sky against which the craters (there were several) hurled their jets of flame and their incandescent quarters of rock?

Was it he who, in the uninterrupted roar, bursting from the bowels of the trembling earth and sometimes bursting into sudden mouths of fire, made me recognise the sacred Syllable Aum: the very one which I had heard, and was to hear ever since, with adoration, coming out of the mouths of lions?

Was it the more or less obscure consciousness that they were themselves of the race of the One who returns from age to age and, like Him, defenders of the beauty of the Earth—the Avengers of the Strong against all anthropocentric and therefore egalitarian superstitions, and in particular against Christianity, then newly imposed on the proud Germanic people?

Was it this conscience, I say, that prompted the Vikings of Jütland, my mother’s ancestors, to sing their hymns to Donner and Thor alone in the middle of the fog, on the raging North Sea, joyous to hear, in the rolls of thunder, the answer of the Gods?

Perhaps. What is certain is that I have always been for untamed Nature, against man: for the lion and the tiger, against the hunter, sometimes very ugly and, in any case, however beautiful he may be, less beautiful than them, who live on the fringes of world decadence. What is certain, too, is that I have always been for the superior man, the strong, the conqueror (unless, like the European invaders of the New World [1] he uses his strength to spread some levelling doctrine, justifying all miscegenation), against the pacifist, benumbed in his pleasures; against the haircutter in four; and against the ‘scientist’, working ‘for humanity’ at the expense of innocent beasts; always been for the SS, against the Jew, and his servants more contemptible than himself.

Almost forty years ago I came to the Indies, seeking (for want of a better word) the tropical equivalent of Aryan and pagan Europe—of that Ancient World, where enlightened tolerance reigned, and the cult of the Beautiful drawing its very essence from the True. I have come and remained there; I have left and returned, always as a disciple of Adolf Hitler, the modern Face of He Who Returns; always animated by the spirit of the ‘fight against Time’ which he embodies, with all his glorious predecessors, and with Kalki, the Victor who must one day succeed him, and succeed them.

Now that there’s nothing else to do, my comrades, live with me in ardent anticipation of the end of this humanity, which has rejected us and our Führer. Mankind isn’t worth saving. May it go to all the devils, buried under the ruins of its hospitals, its laboratories, its slaughterhouses and its ‘nightclubs’! I quote to you the verses that Leconte de Lisle addresses to the Virgin Forest, burned, uprooted, shredded by man:

Tears and blood will sprinkle your ashes,
And you will spring from ours, O Forest!

These are words of anticipated joy for me.

I also remind you of the words of Goebbels at the time of the collapse of this Reich, for which we lived: ‘After the deluge: us!’

All that remains is to wish, to call with all our might ‘the Deluge’—the End, to make ourselves personally responsible for its coming, wishing for it day and night.

I would desire it, I would call for it, even if I were persuaded that none of us—including myself, of course; including those whom I most admire and love—would survive it. The world is too ugly, without its true Gods—without the sense of the sacred in life—for the Strong not to yearn for its end.

My comrades: join me, and let us echo with Wotan the Song of the End:

Eins will ich: das Ende; das Ende!

The world without humans is far and away preferable to the world in which no human elite will rule anymore. The lion’s roar will again be heard everywhere, in the course of the nights, under the moonlit sky, or dark and full of stars. And again the living will tremble before a King worthy of them.

Savitri Devi Mukherji


[1] With the spread of Christianity miscegenation took, in Latin America especially, an unprecedented extension.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 102

Perhaps the last great collective Aryan creation in the West was that of the German Third Reich, with the architects of the new Chancellery and the Nuremberg Stadium; the sculptors Arno Brecker and Kolbe, and the interpreters of Wagner—in particular, the extraordinary conductor Fürtwangler. It was the result of a prodigious upsurge of the whole of Germany, under the inspiration of the supreme artist, Adolf Hitler, against the tide of world decadence. This momentum was abruptly interrupted, after only six years, by England’s declaration of war on Germany, immediately followed by the familiar coalition of hatred, under the overt or subtle leadership of the Jews.


______ 卐 ______


Editor’s note: This is where Savitri and many white nationalists fail, in that the leadership actually came from the American ethno-traitors (see what I said yesterday about John Mearsheimer). That doesn’t mean that Jewry is non-guilty. It means that Jewry was always a minor player compared to the anti-German initiative of the Anglo-Americans. (The best metaphor I can think of is a poison in which the active ingredient is provided by the ethno-traitors, and the catalyst that accelerates that poison by the Jews.)


______ 卐 ______


Everything that the non-German West has produced recently that is truly great—in France, for example, the work of a Robert Brasillach, a Henry de Montherlant, a Céline, a Benoît-Méchin, a Saint-Loup—has been, in one way or another, affected by the spirit of the Reich. There is, moreover, from one end to the other, a deep pessimism like a prescience of the inevitable death or the ‘decline of the West’ already announced by Spengler.

And the East is no better. It lives on its traditional wisdom; it performs its immutable rites and quotes its sacred scriptures whose content is older than prehistory since it is truth itself—non-human truth. But it doesn’t seem to have the strength to draw from it anything to regenerate from top to bottom. (It is, I remind you, a Hindu minority, as well as a European one, and a minority without political influence, alas, that has understood what eternal link exists between Hitlerism and the Doctrine of violent action in absolute detachment, as preached by Lord Krishna to the Aryan warrior Arjuna, in the Bhagawad-Gita).

I have, on the other hand, now, in 1971, found in India more echoes than ever of the expression of my passionate expectation of the Kalki avatar, and the end of the Dark Age. Others await it as I do, and they too don’t feel that there is anything to deplore at the thought of the end of man—except for those few whom the last divine Incarnation will welcome as collaborators, deeming them worthy to open with Him the Golden Age of the next Cycle.

There is no reason to be saddened by the idea that the innumerable ugliness that we see spreading everywhere, on every continent, will one day be definitively swept away along with those who have produced them, encouraged or tolerated them, and who continue to produce new ones.

There is no need to be saddened by the fear that the old and beautiful human creations—the Pyramids of Giza, the Parthenon, the temples of South India, Ellora, Angkor, Chartres Cathedral—may well be swept away along with them, in the colossal fury of the End.

The ugliness that man has accumulated, the desecrations of the Earth of which even the best races have been guilty in this century of universal decay, neutralise by far all that the genius of the Ancients has produced that is greatest and most beautiful. They make us forget the winged bulls of Babylon and Assyria, the friezes of the Greek temples and the Byzantine mosaics, and tip the scales in favour of the disappearance of the human species.

Moreover, eternal works no longer belong in today’s world. We don’t even see them anymore. The ugly glass and steel buildings for offices, erected recently in the centre of Athens around the Place de la Constitution, completely hide the view of the Acropolis from anyone standing in the square. The frame of the four-thousand-year-old cities is destroyed. Lycabettos, three-quarters stripped of its beautiful pine forest, is no longer Lycabettos in the eyes of those who knew and loved it fifty years ago.

And so it is everywhere. It is, or will be tomorrow on a planetary scale, the realisation of the sacrilegious dream of Descartes and all the devotees of anthropocentrism. It is the triumph of the immense human anthill over the savannah, the desert, all the terrestrial spaces where the superior man could still be alone and, through visible beauty and contact with the innocence of private life of the word, commune with the eternal.

Published in: on March 29, 2022 at 11:48 am  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 102  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 101

People will object that I am being unfair to the human elites who create culture. It will be pointed out to me that without a certain encroachment on the jungle, the savannah or the forest, and thus without the restriction of the natural domain of the wild animals, there would never have been cities or monuments, or all that is encompassed under the name of ‘civilisation’; the arts being all more or less linked to each other, as well as to certain fundamental techniques.

This is true, and no one can deny it. Or rather, it was true in the days when one could still think that it was worth cutting down a few trees to erect, on the top of a promontory or some other ‘high place’, a perfect temple or to build, in the middle of a plain, one or more pyramids with powerful symbolism, whose measurements corresponded to those of the Earth itself, if not the solar system. This was true in the days when, as an integral part of Nature, man had not yet risen against her in the laughable pride over other living species; in the time when, in the best societies—traditional societies—the most eminent minds, far from exalting themselves like Francis Bacon or Descartes at the idea of the ‘domination of man’ over the universe, dreamed only of expressing allegorically, in carved, painted, sung or written work, or by rhythmic sound and dance, their intuitive knowledge of cosmic truths, their vision of the eternal.

Then, human creation within certain limits fitted harmoniously into the natural environment. It didn’t spoil it or desecrate it. It couldn’t be otherwise, given that at that time only what René Guénon calls ‘objective art’ was considered ‘art’: work whose standards are directly linked to the artist’s knowledge of the standards of the visible and invisible, human and non-human universe. Thus were born the colossi of Tiahuanaco, the pyramids of Egypt and America, the Greek, Hindu or Japanese temples, the prehistoric or relatively recent paintings at the bottom of caves in Altamira, Lascaux, Ajanta; the Byzantine, Romanesque or Gothic cathedrals, the great mosques of the world, and all the sacred or initiatory music from Antiquity to Bach and Wagner, and the sacred dances of the Indies and the whole world. None of this takes away the soul of the native environment—on the contrary: it expresses it, translates it into the language of the eternal by linking it to it.

But all this was yesterday; it was mostly in the past. It dates from before, and in general long before, the appearance of the insect-man and before his sudden multiplication into not arithmetical but geometrical expression, the result of techniques for protecting the weak.

I repeat: quality and quantity are mutually exclusive.

Those whose numbers are increasing in geometric progression—doubling, and in some countries tripling every thirty years—can only ruin the land, the landscape, and the soil itself to which they cling like leeches. They need houses—any kind of houses quickly built and as cheap and ugly as possible. Art doesn’t come into play provided that, in technically advanced countries, they offer more and more comfort and allow an increasingly automatic life. In other countries it will be enough for them to line up, all alike, like a built-in series, on the site of uprooted forests. Corrugated iron will replace the fresh thatch. And fragments of rusty cans, roughly fixed together, will form the walls instead of palm leaves, which have become rarer. Thus these cheap dens are certainly not as good as the most primitive African or Oceanian huts or the ancient caves. But they do have the advantage that they can be built at the same pace as the human population.

As for the work of art, the visible reflection of the eternal, destined to last for millennia—the pyramid, the tomb, the temple or the colossus freed from the living rock, or erected like a stone hymn in the middle of the plain or at the top of an escarpment—has long since been out of the question. Man no longer builds under the direction of the wise, to give substance to a truth that cannot be expressed in words, but under that of entrepreneurs eager for quick profits to house as many people as possible, and any people whatsoever. The landscape is sacrificed, the forest is torn away, and its inhabitants—the beasts, the reptiles, the birds—are pushed back to where they can no longer live, or killed outright. Man, once an integral part of Nature, and sometimes its crowning glory, has become the executioner of all beauty, the enemy of the universal mother, the cancer of the planet.

Even the superior races no longer create symbols. They have replaced, or are increasingly replacing, temples and cathedrals with factories and medical research centres. And they ‘decorate’ their public squares with caricatures made of cement or wire. The music that their young people like, the music that they let blare out of their transistors all day long as a background for all their activities, all their speeches, all their remaining thoughts, is a bad imitation of Negro music.


______ 卐 ______


Editor’s Note: This is why, as soon as I hear degenerate music in the first minute of some white nationalist podcast, I immediately get off that website—just like I treat TV shows: as soon as I see a black guy I change the channel. Compare this attitude with WN pundits’ recent reviews of the latest Batman film.

Published in: on March 28, 2022 at 12:27 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 101  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 100

It is already too late to regret the past. We should have thought about it before the Second World War—and not unleashed it!—before the over-industrialisation of the West, then of the world; before the intensified massacre of forests and wild animals, and all the horrors committed or permitted, on the beast (always innocent, incapable of being ‘for’ or ‘against’ any ideology whatsoever) in the name of man’s interest, or of his well-being or simply amusement. We should have thought of this before the irresistible progression, the geometric progression, of the pullulation of the two-legged mammal at the expense of its quality, the ultimate source of all evils and all degradations.

It is already too late, not to mention the time when the degeneration of man, under the generalised rule of Chandala, will be an accomplished fact. There is little for the elite to do. There is only to maintain, against all odds, their faith in eternal, non-human values; to curse those men whom the powers of the abyss have chosen as instruments of their inevitable victory and, with all their strength, with all their thirst for beauty and justice, to call upon Kalki, the last hero ‘against Time’, the Avenger of all his glorious precursors: He who must succeed where they have all failed, and bring about the end of this Dark Age.

Whenever one passes through an overcrowded countryside, where quickly built houses and fields for the feeding of the human multitude stretch out indefinitely in place of the felled forests, one need only try to get in touch with the impassive and hidden principle of action and reaction, and pray intensely: ‘Return, O patient Lord, the earth to the jungle, and its ancient kings! Treat man, individually and collectively, as he has treated them and still treats them!’

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 99

What I am saying here about the decline of the Aryan is not confined to India. It is a fact observable in any country with a multiracial population, in which the State opposes the promotion of the superior ethnic elements, instead of encouraging it at all costs and by all means. This is particularly evident in any country with a multiracial population in which the state clings to democratic rule, where power rests with the majority. It is a fact which, in an ironic twist of fate, is increasingly threatening to take hold in Britain itself, as a growing multitude of non-Aryans of the most diverse races, and people of no race at all, peacefully invade and swarm.

I have been forbidden to visit England since my participation in the Hitler camp at Costwolds in August 1962, and I cannot, unfortunately, give here the result of recent personal observations. I can, however, state that the situation created nine and more years ago by the presence on British soil of almost two million Africans, Jamaicans and Pakistanis, not to mention, of course, the Jews who had arrived as early as 1933, was already alarming, if not tragic. And, according to the echoes that I have been able to hear, it has only worsened since then, as no measures have been taken to expel all these non-native elements.

There has been an attempt, it seems, or a pretence of an attempt, to exercise somewhat tighter control over the entry of these Commonwealth subjects into England. But this is not the solution to the problem. Non-Aryans, and especially Africans and Jamaicans (the latter, originally African Negroes too), are multiplying at a rate nine times faster than the average European Aryan. It is clear, therefore, that an absolute ban on even one new immigration would surely not be enough to stem the danger to Britain’s very fabric.

Assuming that not a single non-Aryan, Negro or Jew, or Indian Sudanese who have been converted to Islam for some time (for that is what a ‘Pakistani’ is), lands in England from now on, even for a temporary stay, it would make virtually no difference to the situation in the long run, that is to say, to what is already the tragedy of the race problem, in the country which has madly given itself the mission of fighting Hitler’s racism with arms. It wouldn’t change anything because, I repeat, the non-Aryan immigrants who are already settled in England—who work there, who live there with their families, who have acquired, for the most part, citizenship—multiply much faster than the English; and because the benefits, and in particular the medical benefits, which are lavished on them, only encourage their demographic growth. All further immigration being, let us assume, forbidden, the numerical proportion of the Aryan to the non-Aryan population of Great Britain during the next few decades, and a fortiori; during the centuries to come, would nevertheless shift in favour of the non-Aryans, and among these, the Negroes: the people who multiply fastest.

We must also take into account the inevitable mixing of races, all the more frequent (and more revolting) because to the growing perversity of the men and women of the advanced Dark Ages, we must add the influence of a whole literature designed to arouse and maintain a morbid sexual curiosity. Today, yesterday, ten years ago and more, it is (and was) not uncommon to see in the streets of London some beautiful blonde Englishwoman pushing in front of her a child’s carriage in which rest (or rested) one or sometimes two little Euro-African half-breeds.

You can see them even in small towns (I have seen them in Croydon, Chettleham, and elsewhere). It would only be possible to put an end to these shameful and unnatural unions and this production of half-breeds, by changing the mentality of a youth that has so far been increasingly indoctrinated with anti-racism, while taking radical measures for the definitive removal, if not the physical elimination, of current or potential undesirables.

If they are to be kept alive and their labour used, all half-breeds should be sterilised without exception, as well as Aryan women guilty of crimes against the race: for once they have been impregnated, even once, by foreign seed, they are no longer safe (there have been cases in which the child of a very acceptable husband bore a dangerous resemblance to the unacceptable lover whom his mother had left long before his conception). And all Negroes, Jews, and other non-Aryan elements should be forced to leave the national territory, or at least to live there only in exceptional cases, and then subject to laws and regulations that keep them in their place—such as the famous Nuremberg Laws of September 15, 1935 that protected the racial integrity of Germans under the Third Reich.

But for this to be possible, Britain would have to have a dictatorial government of the same type as that of Germany in 1935, and inspired like it by the ancient faith in the excellence of blood purity. Can it ever hope to have one?

Such a Government was able, across the Rhine, in 1933, to come to power ‘by the legal way’, that is to say ‘democratically’, by relying on a majority of voters (and what a majority!) in universal suffrage. It was able to do so because the German people, without having the racial homogeneity the Führer dreamed of, at least had sufficient biological unity to feel their interest linked to that of the Aryan blood. If nothing is done, and done soon, to remove the non-Aryans in Britain from participation in public affairs, it is clear that, given their soaring numbers, they will play an increasingly decisive role in the country’s internal and external politics and its cultural life. (The theatre, cinema and television already seem to have long since become the ‘reserved hunting ground’ of the Jews, without whose approval nothing is played.)

The Aryans will eventually have to abdicate the position of leadership which the virtues, inherent in their race, had given to their fathers, at a time when democracy was conceived only among equals, and there were neither Negroes nor Jews in England[1]. They can, of course, remain pure of blood. And for that to happen, they will have to take great care that their children’s minds are not contaminated by the increasingly insistent influence of the multiracial school, radio, television, cinema, the press, books (especially textbooks); in a word, all the means of dissemination that the majority, hostile to all ‘racial pride’, will have taken more and more firmly in hand.

What is certain is that their numbers will diminish more and more, and especially diminish in proportion to those of men of other races who will then call themselves, without having any right to do so, ‘the English people’ (like so many Indians today, Dravidians, or even mixed-race aborigines who, without having any more right to do so, boast of being part of the Aryajati, the Aryan race, the biological elite of their country).

Eventually, in a few centuries, they will be a hundred thousand, fifty thousand, twenty thousand, scattered over the whole surface of the British Isles, then overpopulated with half-breeds of different shades. They will be drowned in some hundred or two hundred million robots, generally dark-skinned, with the most varied features, a termite mound directed by the diabolical intelligence of a few Jewish technocrats. They will be the only creatures in this termite mound worthy of the name ‘man’ in the sense we would use it. But the world of that time will have no use for such creatures.

Perhaps they will cultivate in themselves a belatedly awakened Aryan consciousness. Perhaps they will manage, despite the distances, to meet from time to time, in small groups, and talk nostalgically about ‘old England’, now deader than the Athens of Pericles. Perhaps, at some pitiful meeting, on some historic anniversary, some man of knowledge and insight will arise and tell his brethren of the race the remote and deep causes of their downfall.

‘Behold,’ he will tell them, ‘we are paying the price of the folly of our fathers of the 19th and 20th centuries; those who, in what was once our Empire, encouraged the propaganda of the Christian missionaries, compulsory vaccination, and the adherence of the “literates” to democratic principles; of those, above all, who, moreover, stubbornly refused the hand sincerely extended to them by the greatest of all Europeans: Adolf Hitler; of those who, in response to his repeated offer of alliance and his promise to leave us the domination of the seas, unleashed the Second World War against him, drowned his country in a deluge of phosphorus and fire, and burned alive nearly five million of his compatriots, women and children, under the burning rubble or in the shelters where the liquefied asphalt of the streets penetrated in fiery streams. We are paying the price for the crimes of Mr Churchill and others and of all those who believed in them and fought against National Socialist Germany, our sister, the defender of our common race. These men, you may say, were bona fide, but short-sighted. That may be so. But that doesn’t excuse them before history. Stupidity is itself a crime when the interest of the nation, and especially of the race, is at stake. We cannot do what our fathers did—to their shame and ours—and escape punishment!’

The punishment will be to have some woolly-haired, simian-faced Christian as Prime Minister of Great Britain: a descendant of equatorial African immigrants annihilated for ‘services rendered’, and perhaps named Winston, after the gravedigger of the former British Empire. The punishment will be to live amid a brownish, camel-headed England—also, at least in large part, woolly-haired—whose former inhabitants, the legitimate inhabitants, the Aryans, whether Normans, Saxons or Celts, will number as few as the Native Americans on the reservations do today in the U.S.

Then, perhaps, groups of true Englishmen, more obstinate than the others in their resentment of the defeated and betrayed, more combative if not less desperate, will burn, every 8th of May, some effigy of Churchill, purposely grotesque; his big puffy, plump face, furnished with the legendary cigar, and smeared like that of a clown; his big belly stuffed with gunpowder. May 8 will, indeed, at last be recognised as the anniversary of the shame of England as much as of the misfortune of the ‘sister nation’, once hated, now adored with all the passion that accompanies a remorse that we know is useless. Perhaps these same Englishmen, and others, will publicly worship Adolf Hitler, the Saviour whom their ancestors of yesterday rejected and whom their ancestors of today—our contemporaries—still insult. Perhaps there will be, among the dwindling number of Aryans throughout the world, a militant minority, serene, almost happy in its unshakeable loyalty, who will worship him while waiting to become (they or their descendants) the bodyguard of the Avenger he hinted at, but was not: Kalki.

But all late repentance and retrospective devotions will remain ineffective, both in Europe and among the Aryan minorities in other countries, especially in an increasingly Jewless and negrified America. Nothing can save the youngest of humanity’s noble races from the fate that must befall it as a consequence of the crimes committed or tolerated by too many of its representatives, under the influence of an anthropocentrism of the wrong sort. These crimes will be followed by ‘return shocks’, slowly no doubt, but all the more irresistibly as those who committed or tolerated them were more responsible (or should have been) while being less detached, more focused on themselves and their narrow-minded notions, than on the Universe: the Cosmos and the essence of the Cosmos.

There are all kinds of crimes, the wages of which have been accumulating for millennia—crimes against all animal aristocracies, from mighty bison to graceful deer, from great cats to common cats, tigers in miniature; crimes against the massacred forest, against the impassive sea, sullied by all the filth of invading industry; crimes against all human aristocracies, especially against the Aryan race itself, against the Germans in Europe, against the purest Aryas in the Indies, in Asia, in the name of Christ or Christian ‘values’; in the name of Democracy or Marxism, always in the name of some faith or philosophy invented and spread by Jews.


[1] There were no Jews in England from 1290, when King Edward I expelled them, until the middle of the 17th century when Cromwell, who owed their bankers enormous sums, recalled them.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 98

Advertisements, like the ones I have just mentioned, cover whole pages. There is also, of course, the occasional request from some ‘broad-minded’—i.e., heavily influenced by foreign propaganda) father (or brother—that ‘caste doesn’t matter’. Forty years ago there were already such advertisements—one in a hundred—in the big city newspapers. Most of them came from Brahmosamajis. The mentality they reflect is unknown in the villages of India, where ninety-five per cent of the population live.

As for the immense mass of Harijans the government may open the doors of the temples wide to them, but they don’t care to enter. They know that this is contrary to custom and that custom is sacred, whereas the government isn’t. They continue to stay away as before.

Despite all this, the poison of anti-Tradition, the virus of a new, anti-racist, and above all anti-Aryan mentality—contrary to that which has governed Hindu life for sixty centuries—has been injected into the souls of an increasing number of young people of both sexes and all castes. It has been injected already in the time of the English, and, as I have so often repeated, by the English themselves; their teachers as well as their missionaries, or the Jews of high Masonic degrees who acted behind them and through them, mostly without their knowledge.

It may be that Hindu civilisation will resist to the very end of this last age of our Cycle. It may be that, in time, it will cease to resist and succumb. All will depend on how long our Cycle is to last, and above all on how quickly the non-Aryan Hindu castes pull up. The revolt of the latter,[1] which is now being felt everywhere among their educated members can only remain in a multiracial ‘democracy’, directly proportional to the success of the measures of preventive hygiene and medicine. The present Indian government, with its profoundly anthropocentric views inherited from the humanitarian—if not Christian—West, will continue to apply such measures, the pure and simple suppression of which would seem ‘monstrous’ to them.

The Indian Aryan will certainly remain in India. But he will have (like the Aryan, moreover, wherever populations of an inferior race, enjoying ‘rights’ equal to his own, multiply alongside him), less and less power. The democratic system, if it isn’t broken in time by violence, will prevent him from acting or even from asserting himself through words and books.

It would be necessary, therefore, that, in an immense and irresistible impulse against the current of the Dark Age, India should repudiate both democracy and anthropocentrism, and return to living in the atmosphere of the ancient racism of the hierarchical castes: the Aryan, Brahman and Kshatriya at the top, having sole temporal power and spiritual authority; the latter deriving its legitimacy from the former.

But if, as everything suggests, the ‘twenty-fifth hour’ has really come, there is no one before Kalki himself who can initiate and guide such an impulse. What our beloved Führer, the precursor of Kalki, didn’t succeed in doing amid a Nordic majority, with the collaboration of more than a million SS fighters—the warrior and mystic elite of the world, totally devoted to the Aryan cause—, no one will succeed in doing anywhere the equivalent of that—no one, except Kalki, the last ‘man against Time’ who must close this cycle.


[1] A revolt that took shape, in particular, in the South of India, with the struggle of the Dravida Munetra Khazgham against the Brahmins, the Sanskrit culture, the cult of Rama (the deified Aryan hero) and, in general, against everything in life and institutions which recalls the Aryan presence.

Published in: on March 25, 2022 at 12:27 pm  Comments (2)  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 97

It is fortunate that in India the masses are deeply conservative, and gifted with an uncommon strength of inertia. It isn’t impossible that, out of sheer indifference, and without even a vague awareness of what they are doing, they will successfully resist all the pressures exerted upon them to pull them away from Tradition, or from what they have been able to retain of it. They may even resist literacy—by which I mean the harmful effects that literacy has so often had on trusting and credulous populations of traditional civilisation.

They won’t necessarily lose faith in their Gods and in everything that, in their way of life, seems to them to be closely or remotely related to the divine order. I have alluded in these pages to the Viswakarma cult as I saw it practised in 1958 by the factory workers of Joda, Orissa. It isn’t impossible that for a long time to come, even to the end of this Dark Age—and not only in Joda but in the great and increasingly industrialised agglomerations—the ‘working masses’ of India will continue to ritually decorate with scarlet flowers, once a year, in honour of the Cosmic Worker, the steel monsters with their intricate workings, which help them to ‘produce’ more and more. No government, apparently, would object.

Besides, governmental objections don’t disturb the Indian masses, even the working class—let alone the rural ones. One of the first acts of the first government of ‘Independent India’ was to ‘abolish the caste system’ and open the temples to the untouchables, whom it is fashionable to call, in the phrase coined by Gandhi, ‘Harijans’ or ‘People of God’—as if all the living didn’t participate, more or less, in the divinity of Reality itself, in the Hindu world view.

However, since my return to India in June 1971, I haven’t noticed that caste is, on the whole, less meaningful to Hindus and less important in their lives than it was forty years ago. You only have to open any large or small daily newspaper and read the matrimonial advertisements to be convinced of this. You will find sentences like this one on every page: ‘Wanted: young man Agarwala’ (this is a sub-caste of the Vaishyas, widespread in the United Provinces) ‘for a beautiful girl of seventeen years of age, from the same sub-caste; good housewife and well endowed’. Or: ‘Wanted: young girl of Brahmin Saraswati’ (this is a sub-caste of the Brahmins of Maharashtra) ‘for a young man of the same sub-caste, returned from Europe, with a brilliant future. Would like dowry in relation’. Or again: ‘Request Brahmin’s daughter from Chitpavan sub-caste’, another Maharashtra community, ‘young, pretty, of robust health and fair complexion, versed in domestic arts, for young Brahmin from the same community, of good looks and fair complexion, with future employment. The dowry may be small, if the girl is beautiful, of fair complexion; and if she comes from an orthodox family’ (i.e., faithful to tradition).

Doesn’t it seem that the author of this last announcement is ‘one of us’? And yet he wrote simply as a Hindu deeply attached to his ancient tradition. But tradition is the same. This Brahmin of 1971 has, without knowing it, a nostalgia for the immemorial Hyperborea. And there are millions like him in India.

______ 卐 ______

Editor’s note:

Just the attitude I have in the Latin American country where I live. The great irony is that, even though my bloodline is compromised, I think like these Brahmins; and two ethnic Germans I met in Mexico married… brown women. (The mongrel daughter of one of these marriages now lives in Germany; her German father is now dead!) Isn’t it a disgrace that someone like me religiously follows these ancient Aryan codes while today’s Germans violate them in the most egregious way?

Published in: on March 24, 2022 at 1:32 pm  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 97  

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 96


Chapter XII: A call for the end

And thou, divine Death, where everything returns and disappears,
Receive your children into your starry bosom,
Free us from Time, Number and Space,
And give us back the rest that life has disturbed.

Leconte de Lisle. (‘Dies Irae’: Poèmes Antiques).

It is worth repeating, and insisting on, that along with the great cats, the masterpieces of Creation, the elephants and other noble herbivores, and the holy forests themselves, the pullulation of man threatens with death (slow, but certain) the most beautiful and gifted of the human races, especially that which interests us above all others: our Aryan race.

This is inevitable, unless intervention in the opposite direction, and in time, is directed by legislators and supported, if necessary, by force. It is inevitable, I say, for the simple reason that the inferior races are by nature far more prolific than the others (the same is true of the various species of four-legged mammals: mice and rats multiply so much more rapidly than lions and tigers!).

A racial elite can only survive if it keeps its blood pure. And it is clear that even then it can only continue to play its natural role, which is to command, both politically and in other areas, if it is part of a civilisation which, unlike today’s democracies, both popular and plutocratic, rejects any idea of giving priority to the greatest number. As soon as one accepts the principle of universal suffrage—one man, one vote, whatever the man—; as soon as one attributes to any man (of any race, even the least beautiful and least gifted, and even of any level of personal degradation) an immense ‘value’, superior by the mere fact that he is ‘a man’, to that of the noblest animal or tree, one puts the human elite in danger.

And the threat of impotence, of deterioration, and finally of death, which is thus brought to bear upon it, is all the more formidable, and all the more imminent, because preventive sanitary techniques more effectively prevent infant mortality and epidemics of all kinds from taking their toll on the weak of any race, and from keeping in check the tendency of the inferior races to swarm at the rate of the rodents.

For if nothing is done to slow down the rate of reproduction of these races at all costs, and if moreover a higher and higher minimum of education is imposed on them, it will automatically be they who will have the last word in a world governed by ‘the majority’—they, or rather a few raceless and faithless demagogues, skilled in manipulating them, and behind them the international Jew. For he is the eternal enemy of all racism (except his own), capable of creating or suppressing at a price of gold, the most diverse demagogies.

In India, this process has been going on for decades already, even for a century, since the moment they became victims of the false belief in the ‘value of every man’. The British have felt it their duty not only to Indianize their administrative services, but to Indianize them from below, by giving more and more benefits to the lower castes—i.e., races—of India at the expense of the Aryan castes. It is they, the English, and they alone, as I have repeatedly said, who are directly responsible for the accelerated decadence of this vast country, not for having ‘exploited’ it excessively, economically; but for having instilled in those who were to become its effective rulers, their democratic and humanitarian ideals.

They are responsible for this in two ways. Firstly, they set up their hospitals and dispensaries, their faculties and their medical research laboratories everywhere. They inaugurated, on a vast scale, the fight against epidemics and especially against infant mortality—against the rapid elimination of the weak—and in every way encouraged the Indians to continue it after their departure. Thus, and while the population increased in frightful proportions (it doubles every thirty years!), they applied to its enormous masses—of different races, but, in the increasing majority, of inferior races—those same democratic principles which haven’t ceased to infect Europe since 1789.

They trained in their school the Indians (Hindus of all castes but, increasingly, of the lower castes; Mohammedans, Christians) to whom they, first under their colonial aegis and then from the ‘independence’ which followed their departure, passed on the burden of power. They imposed universal suffrage; they gave equal importance as voters (however small) to the savage Kuki of Assam, the Naga, the Santal, the Gund, and the fairest-skinned Brahmin with regular features, a blood brother of the best Europeans, and more cultured than many of them. They have chosen, as their successors, Indians, educated in their school and psychologically dead to the racist spirit of the Hindu Tradition, and sure to continue their work of disintegration.

These Indians are now doing the impossible for the promotion of the masses of inferior races, ever more compact, more swarming, more invasive thanks to the decline in mortality. They have set up legislation that gives the greatest number of posts everywhere to the nationals of these masses, as soon as they have assimilated a minimum of literacy. The result is a generalized mess, incredible incompetence at all levels: an express telegram sent from Delhi, takes four days to reach Jammu; the Delhi buses leave at the convenience of their driver, and arrive when they can, etc. It also leads to corruption at all levels, in all departments. But that does not matter.

The main thing is that people now say, abroad, ‘India’, instead of saying ‘the Indies’, and thus the illusion of an Indian ‘nation’ is born. The main thing is that this ‘nation’, or rather this State, which is the spirit of the degenerate, Jewish, humanitarian and pacifist Britons, continue to rule. It is a democracy and, to boot, a secular democracy—without official religion (because this title is refused to immemorial Hinduism), even against any traditional religion, in the manner of Emile Combes’ France: a State in which, some dare to hope, the cult of science and humanity—of science applied to the well-being and ‘happiness’ of ‘all men’—will increasingly replace the cult of the ancient Gods, according to the outdated dream of Auguste Comte.

The essential point is that this State is a multiracial democracy, in which all shades of inferior humanity are in open or latent, noisy or silent revolt against the few millions of Brahmins and Kshatriyas—even against those of them (as is the case with so many southern Brahmins) to whose ancestors the privileges and honours of caste were originally bestowed on account of their extraordinary merits, without having been Aryans.

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 95

One might also recall the resurgence of vivisection, which coincided with the revival of interest in experimental science in the 16th, and especially the 17th and 18th centuries and since. It is unfortunate that this infamy, which has assumed frightening proportions in the last century and in our own time among peoples rotten with Christian and rationalist anthropocentrism, has spread, precisely at the same time as this anthropocentric attitude, to all the countries colonised politically or morally (or in both ways) by the European or American West; that is to say, has practically spread to the whole world.

To cite only one example, but one of the most significant, the Indian Government—democratic and humanitarian, as it should be in the world dominated by the victors of 1945—has, in recent years, encouraged the export of thousands of monkeys, knowing full well that they would be subjected to criminal experiments (which the government no doubt considered ‘praiseworthy’, since they were carried out ‘in the interests of science’, and therefore of ‘man’).

And on the soil of India itself, since the so-called ‘independence’ of the country as in the time of the British, various research centres exist and are multiplying, in particular cancer research, in whose laboratories the same horrors take place as in those of Paris, London, Chicago or Moscow. And in the big cities, stray dogs, considered ‘useless’ by the neophytes of anthropocentrism, die in atrocious suffering, systematically poisoned with strychnine, as I saw some die in Greece in 1970.[1]

And what to say of the treatment of the dogs of Constantinople, the most brutally collected in the world—with lasso and pincers—and thrown on a deserted island in the Sea of Marmara to die of hunger and thirst, by order of the ‘Young Turk’ government a few months after its accession to power, in 1908?[2] However, despite all these horrors and many others, a few decades ago there was still a very strong bond between many human beings and their domestic dogs or cats (in Western Europe, at the beginning of this century); war or draft horses; oxen and buffaloes for ploughing. The attachment of the Arab to his horse or camel was proverbial. The progressive mechanisation of the world is now breaking this bond, in all countries.

When I returned to India in 1971, it was a great joy for me to see, in the countryside flooded with monsoon rain, so many good big buffaloes, well-fed, plunged with delight up to their snouts in the innumerable ponds, and ruminating peacefully. There were, and still are, thousands of them. But until when? Until, as elsewhere with horses and oxen, tractors replace them. And tractors are bound to replace them, if ever larger tracts of fertile land are to be stripped of their forests—in India as everywhere—to feed a population whose numbers are doubling every thirty years.

The proliferation of man is, as I have said, at the root of the mechanisation of life: an unthinkable process, because it is perfectly superfluous, in a population as sparse as it was a few millennia ago. On the other hand, medical technology, placed at the service of invasive anthropocentrism, is contributing more and more to the proliferation of man by acting against natural selection. This is a vicious circle that must be broken at all costs. We, the Aryan racists, the followers of Adolf Hitler, were and are the only human beings who are serious about breaking it by giving free rein to saving natural selection. But since the ‘twenty-fifth hour’ had already sounded many years, if not centuries, before 1933, we could not keep the power and win the war.

And the process of the gradual debasement of man, together with the extermination of the noblest beasts and the destruction of the forests—the process of the desecration and uglification of the earth—continues. It can only continue, given the mental attitude of the men now in power.


[1] Now, in 1976, dogs in Delhi without collars or tags are electrocuted—or sent to the All India Institute of medical sciences for experimentation. This year the municipality has eliminated more than 30,000 of them.

[2] It is interesting to recall that the three main members of the ‘Young Turk’ government—Enver Pasha, Talat Pasha and Essad Pasha—were three Jews whose families had been ‘converted’ to Islam.

Published in: on March 20, 2022 at 11:58 am  Comments Off on Reflections of an Aryan woman, 95