Kriminalgeschichte, 54

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Criminal History of Christianity). For a comprehensive text that explains the absolute need to destroy Judeo-Christianity, see here. In a nutshell, any white person who worships the god of the Jews is, ultimately, ethnosuicidal.

 

Patriarch George, an Arian ‘wolf’, monopolist and martyr

George of Cappadocia, an ultra Arian, seized power in Alexandria. He was one of the followers of the sovereign who joined his ecclesiastical office with a surprising sense of finances.

Patriarch George raised a funerary monopoly, although apparently also acquired the one of the sodium carbonate and tried to buy the papyrus lagoons, along with the Egyptian salt mines. Among his favourite religious projects were the inheritances, a special field of the saviours of Christian souls throughout all the centuries. Bishop George not only tried to get the heirs to lose what their relatives had left them, but he even told the emperor that all the buildings of Alexandria were public property. In short, the Egyptian primate ‘took advantage of the ruin of many people’, so, as Ammianus writes, ‘everyone, without distinction, hated George’.[1]

Although he was ordained for Alexandria as early as 356, he did not start working until the end of February 357, with savage fury, ‘like a wolf or a bear or a panther’ (Theodoret). In front of a blazing bonfire, he caused Catholic widows and maidens to be beaten on the soles of their feet, apparently completely naked, with palm branches or to burn them on a low fire. He made ‘whipping in a totally new way’ (Athanasius) to forty men; many died. Athanasius reports of raids, assaults, the capture of bishops, who were chained; of imprisonments, the exile of more than thirty bishops ‘with such lack of consideration that some of them committed suicide on the road and others in exile’.

In the autumn of the year 348, Athanasius resorts to violence. Patriarch George is saved from an assassination attempt in the church and must flee. On November 26, 361 he returns, to his disgrace, without knowing the death of his protector Constantius. He is quickly locked up, on December 24, but Catholics and pagans take him out and, together with two very unpopular imperial officials, he is dragged through the streets and beaten until he dies.

However, shortly before Bishop George had called the strategist Artemius, military governor of Egypt, and with his help had also persecuted the pagans; destroyed the temple of Mithras, demolished statues and sacked the pagan shrines, of course for the benefit of the Christian churches that they wanted to build. (Julian had the temple destroyer Artemius decapitated in the year 362, for which he was venerated as an Arian martyr.)

Catholics and ‘idolaters’ walked the streets with Bishop George’s corpse on the back of a camel. For hours they raged with the dead man. Then they burned him and scattered his ashes, mixed with those of animals, by the sea.

And while the wild Arian wolf becomes a martyr, precisely at Christmas, Athanasius returned once more and, finally—after the pagan Julian again banished him in 362; the Catholic Jovian made him return in 363, and the Arian Valens will exile him for the last time in 365-366—, Athanasius slept in the Lord on May 2, 373, old and much appreciated.[2]

 
_______________

Note of the translator: The footnotes still lack the general bibliography, which will be ready as I finish the abridgement of this first volume.

[1] Epiphan. Haer 76,1,4 f. Ammian. 22,11,4 f. Grant, Christen 75 f.

[2] Ammian. 22,11,3 f. Theodor. 2,14; 3,4; 3,9. Socr. e.h. 3,2 f; 3,7; 4,1,14 f; 4,8,4; 4,13; 4,16. Soz. 4,9 f; 4,28,3 f; 5,7,3 f; 5.12; 5,15. Philostorg. 7,2. Athan. ad episc. Aeg. 7. Hist. Arian. ad mon. 48 f; 54 f; 59 f. Apol. de fuga sua 6 f; 24. syn. 37. Historia Acephala 5 f. Theodor. e.h. 2,14; 3,18,1. Rufin e.h. 10,34 f. Epiph. haer. 76,1. Greg. naz. or. 4,86; 21. Pallad, hist. Laus. c. 136. Chron. pasch. 546,4 f. Pauly I 626. RAC I 861. LThK 1st ed. I 706. Lecky II 159. Lippl XV f. Geffcken, Der Ausgang 119 f. Schuitze, Geschichte I 137 f. Bidez, Philostorgios III f. Stein, Vom römischen 236 f, 255 f, 270 f. Seel 175 f. V. Campenhausen, Griechische Kirchenväter 80 f. Dannenbauer, Entstehung I 76. Lacarrière 150 f. Jacob, Aufstände 152. Camelot, Athanasios 977. Poppe 50.

Kriminalgeschichte, 53

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Criminal History of Christianity). For a comprehensive text that explains the absolute need to destroy Judeo-Christianity, see here. In a nutshell, any white person who worships the god of the Jews is, ultimately, ethnosuicidal.

 

The scene of the bishops Lucifer of Cagliari and Liberius of Rome

A tragicomic curiosity of sacred history was the bishop Lucifer of Cagliari, a fanatical anti-Arian of scarce formation who, for the dogma of Nicaea, suffered a long exile almost alone in Syria and Palestine. Since a clergyman should pay no homage to a ‘heretic’ emperor, he drafted a host of writings against him, in which, among numerous biblical quotations, he interposed all kinds of primitive expletives, calling him the antichrist in person and worthy of the fire of hell.

Nevertheless, Lucifer also antagonised Liberius of Rome and with Hilary of Poitiers he did not recognise the opportunistic measures of Athanasius in the ‘synod of peace’ (362). Rather he turned his back on the Catholics, frightened by their wealth, relaxation and accommodation, and from Sardinia he organised his own circle, which lasted until the 5th century: a small but very active council, branched from Trier to Africa, Egypt and Palestine. Lucifer had supporters even among the Roman clergy.

After his death (370- 371) the head of the Gregory movement, bishop of Elvira, was in his origins also a radical defender of orthodoxy. The Luciferians, ‘those who profess the true faith’, rejected the Catholics as schismatics, censured their belonging to the State and the avidity of their prelates for honours, wealth and power, the ‘luxurious basilicas’, the ‘overflowing basilicas of gold, covered with sumptuous and expensive marbles, with ostentatious columns’, ‘the extensive real estate of the rulers’. The strict Catholic Theodosius I recognised them as Orthodox. They even had a bishop in Rome, Ephesus, who tried in vain to deliver justice to Pope Damasus. The prefect of the city, Bassus, categorically refused ‘to persecute Catholic men of irreproachable character’.[1]

But the lords themselves handled the problem. In Oxyrhynchus, Egypt, Catholic priests smashed with axes the altar of the Luciferian bishop Heraclides. In Trier, the priest Bonosus was persecuted. In Rome, the police and the papal clerics mistreated the Luciferian Macarius in such a way that he died as a result of the wounds in Ostia, where he had been exiled. (However, the local bishop, Florentinus, did not want to have anything to do with the ‘Damasus crime’ and moved his mortal remains to a pantheon.)

In Spain, the Catholics forced the doors of the church of the presbyter Vicenç, dragged the altar to a temple under an idol, beat the acolytes of the ecclesiastic, tied him with chains and left him to die of hunger. Bishop Epictetus de Civitavecchia carried out a much shorter process. He tied the Luciferian Rufinus to his carriage and tormented him to death. However, Bishop Lucifer of Cagliari was venerated as a saint in Sardinia, which for the time being was closed to the central Church, and as such he was recognised in 1803 by Pope Pius VII.[2]

The fact that the history of the popes is not in short supply of curiosities is also demonstrated by Bishop Liberius.

In vain did the emissary of the emperor, the praepositus sacri cubiculi, Eusebius, a eunuch of ill repute who was executed under Julian, persuade Liberius to condemn Athanasius. Donations and threats were useless, so Constantius had the Roman kidnapped at night and brought him to Milan. There he explained the damage that Athanasius had done to everyone, but especially to him. ‘He has not been satisfied with the death of my elder brother and has not ceased to instigate the already deceased Constant to enmity against us’. The sovereign added that even his successes against the usurpers Magnentius and Silvanus did not mean so much to him ‘as the disappearance of this impious man from the ecclesiastical scene’. Apparently Constantius placed a high price on the capture of the fugitive Alexandrian and sought the help of the kings of Ethiopia.[3]

However, the Roman bishop wanted to oppose to the maximum the ‘heretic’ emperor, even ‘dying for God’. Therefore, Constantius interrupted the conversation: ‘What part of the inhabited earth are you, that you alone stand beside an ungodly man and disturb the peace of the whole world?’ ‘You are the one who, by yourself, cling to the friendship with that person without conscience’. Liberius received a period of three days to reflect, but remained unperturbed. ‘For me, the laws of the Church are above everything’, he said. Send me wherever you want. ‘And this despite the fact that, according to Ammianus, he was convinced of Athanasius’ guilt.

But after two years of exile in Veria, with the brainwashing applied to him by the local Bishop Demophilus and Fortunatus, bishop of Aquileia, Liberius capitulated. The Roman so admired in Milan, the ‘victorious fighter for the truth’ (Theodoret), had to expel from the Church, in a very special spectacle, the ‘father of orthodoxy’: the doctor of the church Athanasius, and signed a semi-Arian creed (the so-called third formula, according to which the ‘Son’ is only similar to the ‘Father’), bringing to light his free will. In reality, what Liberius did was buy his return. All he wanted was to get out of this deep affliction and return to Rome. Even the father of the Church Jerome explained in his time that Liberius, broken in exile, had given a ‘heretical’ signature.[4]

Constantius authorised in 358 the return of Liberius under the condition that he should administer the bishopric of Rome jointly with his successor Felix.
 
_______________

Note of the translator: The footnotes still lack the general bibliography, which will be ready as I finish the abridgement of this first volume.

[1] Socr. 2,36 f. Soz. 4,9. Athan. hist. Arian. ad mon. 31 f. Lucif. Calar. Den non parcendo in Deum delinquentibus. Cf. De non conviendo cum haereticis.- De regibus apostaticis. – De San Athanasio. – Moriendum esse pro Dei filio. Cf. also to complete the history of cults written in 384 by clerics Faustinus and Marcellinus, the so-called Libelus precum in Collectio Avellana. Cf. esp. also Coll. Avell. ep. 2,85. Pierer X 567 f. LThK 1st ed. IV 673, VI 677 f. Bertholet 331. Altaner 320. Kraft, Kirchenväter Lexikon 354. Krüger, Lucifer 39 f. Rauschen 140. Stein, Vom römischen 234 f. Caspar, Papsttum I 201 f, 216 s. V. Campenhausen, Ambrosius 6. Lietzmann, Geschichte IV 40 f. Hemegger 403 f. Haendier, Von Tertullian 96 f. Klein, Constantius II 56 f, 121 s. Joannou 119, 139 f.

[2] Libellus precum 21; 23 f. Pierer X 567 f. Rauschen 199 f, Caspar, Papsttum I 202 f, 216. Hemegger 403 f.

[3] Soz. e. h. 4,11,3. Ammian. Rerum gestarum 15,7; 22,3. Athan. hist. Arian. 38 f. apol. ad Const. 29. Socr. e. h. 2,16. Theodor. e.h. 2,13; 2,16. Wojtowytsch 122 f. Klein, Constantius II 137 f.

[4] Theodor e. h. 2,16 f. Liberius, ep. 10 (Hilar. 4,168); ep. 12 (Hilar. 4,172); ep. 18 (Hilar. 4,155). Hilarii Coll. antiar. (frg. hist.) «Pro deifico», “Quia scio”, “Non doceo”. Soz. e. h. 4,15. Theodor. e. h. 2,16 f. Philostorg. 4,3. Sulp. Sev. Chron. 2,39. Hieron. de vir. ill. 97. Ammian. 15,7 f. Athan. hist. Arian. 38 f. LThK 1st ed. VI 549 f, IX 597 f. Altaner 307 f. Grisar, Geschichte Roms 281. Caspar, Papsttum 1171 f, 183 f. Hermann, Ein Streitgespräch 77 f. Wojtowytsch 121 f. Klein, Constantius II 86, 140 f. Aland, Von Jesus bis Justinian 181. Haendier, Von Tertullian 94 f. Jacob, Aufstände 152.

Kriminalgeschichte, 52

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Criminal History of Christianity). For a comprehensive text that explains the absolute need to destroy Judeo-Christianity, see here. In a nutshell, any white person who worships the god of the Jews is, ultimately, ethnosuicidal.

 
Shelter with a twenty-year-old beauty

After the worldly [events] of Trier and Rome[1], Athanasius now began something more intimate: the relationship with a maid of about twenty years and ‘of such extraordinary beauty’ —as all the clergy testified— ‘that for her and her beauty they avoided any meeting with her to prevent suspicions and reproaches’.[2]

The story comes not from a malicious pagan but from a monk and bishop of Helenopolis in Bithynia, Palladius, also a good friend of St John Chrysostom. In his famous Lausiac History, an important source on ancient monasticism which as a whole ‘closely approximates the true story’ (Kraft), Bishop Palladius speaks of the girl who was shunned by all the clergy so as not to provoke gossiping.

St. Athanasius

But it was different with Athanasius. Suddenly approached by the minions in his palace, he took ‘dresses and mantle and fled in the middle of the night to this maid’. She welcomed him kindly, but also fearful ‘in view of the circumstances’. But the saint reassured her. He had fled only because of a ‘supposed crime’, so as not to be considered a fool ‘and not to sink those who want to condemn me to sin’.[3]

How considerate! And since the assault on his cathedral had cost wounded and dead, his new flight had been censored even by friends and ridiculed by his enemies. He defended himself with references to biblical celebrities inspired by God who, like him, had escaped: Jacob from Esau, Moses from Pharaoh, David from Saul, etc. ‘For it is the same to kill oneself as to give oneself to your enemies to be killed’.

Athanasius always managed to justify his actions. He knew that running away was the right thing to do at that moment, ‘to worry about the persecutors so that their fury does not claim blood and they become guilty’. This man did not think about his own life when he left his people abandoned to fate, as well as many brave generals in battle.[4] To censure him would be ingratitude to God, disobedience to his commandments. He could also take advantage of the flight to announce the Gospel while he flees. Even the Lord, writes Athanasius, ‘hid and fled’. ‘Who do we have to obey? To the words of the Lord or to gossip?’ [5]

Of course, not everyone who runs away finds shelter with a beautiful woman of twenty years. Athanasius had luck or grace:

God showed me tonight: ‘Only with her can you save yourself’. Full of joy she left all her scruples and gave herelf completely to the Lord.

Well said!

Apparently, she hid the holiest man for six years, while Constantius lived. She washed his feet, got rid of his waste, took care of everything he needed…

It is sticking to learn about Athanasius’ great sanctity at the same time as his long shelter with the young woman: a timeframe that is also confirmed by other sources. However, today it is assumed, in favour of the saint, that he stayed with that beauty ‘only transiently’ (Tetz), an elastic concept. The coexistence of a cleric with a maiden consecrated to God, a gyná syneísaktos or ‘spiritual wife’, was widespread in the 3rd and 4th centuries, and even included the closest community: that of the bed. However, naturally, Athanasius was above suspicion.

I took refuge in her [he defends himself] because she is very beautiful and young [!]. Thus I have won twice: her salvation because I have helped her, and my reputation.

Some men are always immaculate. In our century,[6] the man who would later be Pope Pius XII took, when he was 41-years-old, as a companion a nun of twenty-three until he died.[7]

_______________

Note of the translator: The footnotes still lack the general bibliography, which will be ready as I finish the abridgement of this first volume.

[1] Note of the Ed.: This refers to the previous page, about Athanasius’ return to his town in the year 346, that does not appear in this abridged translation.

[2] Pallad, hist. Laus. c. 63.

[3] Ibid. Kraft, Kirchenväter Lexikon 404 f. LThK 1st ed. VII 896 f. Altaner 188 f.

[4] Note of the Ed.: See note 1 above.

[5] Cf. Tetz 172 f.

[6] Note of the Ed.: Deschner published Vol. I in 1986.

[7] Pallad, hist. Laus. c. 63. Tetz 171. Vööbus, Entdeckung 36, esp. 40. Deschner, Das Kreuz 182 f. The same, Heilsgeschichte II 21 f.

Kriminalgeschichte, 51

Editor’s note:

As far as Aryan decline is concerned the claim that, compared to the Jewish problem, Christianity is like a megalodon next to a white shark, is a very serious accusation. So much so that, from this entry on the criminal history of Christianity, I will be adding the footnotes that appear in the book by Karlheinz Deschner.

Since I went nuclear on Xtianity, the donations to this site have been dramatically reduced. In case I receive more donations (which would ease the burden of having to go out to the street to find, through petty jobs, how to put some bread on my table) I will include, in the printed version, those footnotes that have been missing in this blog.

Take note that the footnotes that I’ll be adding still lack the general bibliography, which will be ready as I finish the abridgment of this first volume.

Below, Deschner’s text:
 

______ 卐 ______

 

Constantinople – like a civil war

In Constantinople, at the end of the year 338, the enraged follower of Nicaea, Archbishop Paul—the assassin of Arius according to the Arians—was sent back into exile, chained, to whom Constantine had already exiled in the Pontus. (Actually, the news about his life and his destiny are very contradictory.) His successor, Eusebius of Nicomedia, the prominent protector of Arius, died about three years later.

With imperial authorisation, Paul, who lives as an exile with the Bishop of Rome, returns in the year 341. The fanatical Asclepius of Gaza, also with the permission of Constantine, returns from his exile and prepares the entry of the patriarch, with a whole series of deaths, including inside the churches. It prevails a ‘situation analogous to that of a civil war’ (Von Haehling).

Hundreds of people are killed before Paul makes his triumphal entry into the capital and excites the spirits of the masses.

Macedonius, the semi-Arian who was his old enemy, is called anti-bishop. However, according to the sources, the main fault of the constantly increasing bloody disorders is Paul’s. The cavalry general Hermogenes, commissioned by the emperor in 342 to restore order—the first intervention of the army in an internal conflict of the Church—, is cornered by the followers of the Catholic bishop in the church of St. Irene, the church of peace, who, after setting fire to the temple, kill Hermogenes, and drag his corpse through the streets, bound by the feet.

Direct participants: two ascribed to the patriarch, the sub-deacon Martyrdom and the lector Martian, according to the Church historians, Socrates and Sozomen. The proconsul Alexander managed to flee. Nor in Constantinople do the revolts of religion cease; only in one of them 3,150 people lost their lives. However, Patriarch Paul, led away by the emperor himself, is taken from one place of exile to another until he dies in Armenia, allegedly strangled by Arians, and Macedonius remains for a long time as the only supreme pastor of the capital.[1]

After the triumph of Orthodoxy, in the year 381 Paul’s body was moved to Constantinople and it was buried in a church taken from the Macedonians. Since then, that church has his name.[2]
 
_______________

Note of the translator: As stated above, the footnotes still lack the general bibliography, which will be ready as I finish the abridgment of this first volume.

[1] Hilar, frg. hist. 3. Athan. de syn. 22 f. apol. 20; 29,3; 30,1; hist. Arian. 7. apol. c. Arian. 6,25. apol. de fuga sua 3,6. Socr. h.e. 2,6 f.; 2,12 f. Soz. 3,4 f; 3,7,5 f; 3,5. Liban, or. 1,44; 1,59; 59,94 f. Theodor. h.e. 2,2; 2,5. RAC 1860. LThK 1st ed. III 860 f, IV 760, VIII 47, IX 698. Kraft, Kirchenväter Lexikon 210. Altaner 203. Lecky II 159. Lippl. XI. Schwartz, Zur Geschichte des Athanasius (1904) 341; (1911) 479 f, 489 f, 511 f. Seeck, Untergang IV 52, 71 f. Stein, Vomrömischen 207 f, 233. Baur, Johannes 157. Caspar, Papsttum 1138 f. Ehrhard, Die griechische und die lateinische Kirche 41. Telfer, Paul of Constantinople 31 f. Tinnefeid 177 f. Klein, Constantius II 71 f. V. Haehling, Die Religionszugehörigkeit 244 f.

[2] Socr. 5,9. Soz. 7,10. Rauschen 116.

Kriminalgeschichte, 50

Note of the Editor:

The city Antioch, ‘the cradle of Christianity’ was a melting-pot town that played a central role in the emergence of both Hellenistic Judaism and early Christianity. Evropa Soberana mentions that Luke the Evangelist was from Antioch, and when writing about St. Ignatius of Antioch, a subversive ideologue thrown to the lions by the Romans, Soberana adds: ‘It is interesting to pay attention to the names of the preachers since they always come from the mongrelised areas: eastern and Judaised’.

Left, one of the maps that appear in Soberana’s PDF (Caption: ‘The extension of Christianity around the year 100. Note that the areas of Christian preaching coincide with the densest Jewish settlement areas’). Also remember that, right after Julian was assassinated, a Christian emperor ordered the burning of the Antioch library that had been founded by Julian: a library that presumably contained documents showing the true origins of Christianity.

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Criminal History of Christianity):

______ 卐 ______

Antioch

For a long time the divisions had split the great patriarchal seat of Antioch. The current Turkish Antakya (28,000 inhabitants, including 4,000 Christians) does not reveal what it once was: the capital of Syria, with perhaps 800,000 inhabitants, the third largest city in the Roman Empire—after Rome and Alexandria—, the ‘metropolis and eye’ of the Christian East.

Located not far from the mouth of the Orontes in the Mediterranean, built majestically by the ostentatious Syrian kings, famous for its luxurious temples, churches, arcaded streets, the imperial palace, theatres, baths and the stadium, an important centre of military power, Antioch played a great role in the history of the new religion from the beginning.

It was the city in which the Christians received their name from the pagans; the city in which Paul preached and already entered into conflict with Peter; where Ignatius stirred the spirits, and where the theological school founded by Lucian, the martyr, taught his teachings, representing the ‘left wing’ in the Christological conflict, and marked the history of the Church of that century, although most of the members of the school (even John Chrysostom) were accused of heresy throughout their life or part of it, especially Arius.

Antioch was a place of celebration of numerous synods, especially Arian synods, and more than thirty councils of the old Church. It was here where Julian was residing in the years 362-363 writing his Against the Galileans; where John Chrysostom ‘saw the light of the world’. Antioch became one of the main bastions of the expansion of Christianity, ‘the head of the Church of the East’ (Basil) and seat of a patriarch who in the 4th century ruled the political dioceses of the East: fifteen ecclesiastical provinces with more than two hundred bishoprics.

Antioch was full of intrigue and turmoil, especially since the Arians had deposed the patriarch Eustochius, one of the most passionate apostles of the Nicene doctrine, for ‘heresy’ because of his immorality and his rebellion against Emperor Constantine, who banished him until his death.

However, at the time of the Meletian schism, which lasted fifty-five years, from 360 to 415, there were three suitors who fought among themselves and who tore at their disputes both the Eastern and the Western Church: Paulinians (fundamentalists) followers of the doctrine of Nicaea, semi-Arians and Arians.

Kriminalgeschichte, 49

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Criminal History of Christianity). For a single online book that explains the importance of the subject of the destruction of the Greco-Roman world by Judeo-Christians, see here. In a nutshell, any white person who worships the god of the Jews is, ultimately, ethno-suicidal.


The ‘battlefield’ of Alexandria

The departure of Athanasius in June from Trier, the city of the West that had received him triumphantly and had treated him in an extraordinary way, was the first act of the government of Constantine II.

During the long trip back, the repatriated Athanasius took the opportunity to establish peace in his own way in Asia Minor and Syria, that is, helping Catholics to regain power. For that reason, after his campaign, ‘anti-bishops’, discord and new splits appeared everywhere. ‘Where there were anti-bishops there were regular riots and street fights, after which the pavement was covered with hundreds of corpses’ (Seeck).

When the remaining exiles returned to their homeland, orthodoxy flourished everywhere.

In the first place, the churches stained by the ‘heretics’ were thoroughly cleaned, although not always with sea water, as the Donatists did. These Catholic bishops practiced more drastic customs. In Gaza, the supreme pastor Asclepius had the ‘desecrated’ altar destroyed. In Akira, Bishop Marcellus tore from his adversaries their priestly garments, hung the ‘debased’ hosts around their necks and threw them out of the church. In Hadrianopolis, Bishop Lucius fed the dogs with the Eucharistic bread and, later, when they returned, he denied communion to the eastern participants of the Synod of Serdica, provoking even the population of the city against him.

The first official act, so to speak, of the repatriated Athanasius at the end of November of the year 337 was to interrupt the supply of grain (destined by the emperor to feed the poor, all the supporters of his opponent) to appease with the surplus the new members of his Praetorian guard.

In mid-March of 339 Athanasius fled to Rome with a criminal complaint on his back, addressed to the three emperors and accusing him of new ‘murders’. (However, now he could not use the imperial courier as he used to do in his exile and travels; he travelled by sea.) His people burned the church of Dionysus, the second ‘divine temple’ in terms of Alexandria’s size, so that he could escape at least from the profanation.

While with the help of the State, Bishop Gregory exercised a strict command, Athanasius, with other deposed Church princes, settled in Rome at the side of Bishop Julius I who, with almost the entire West, favoured the Nicene Council. For the first time in the history of the Church, prelates excommunicated by oriental synods obtain their rehabilitation in a Western episcopal tribunal. The only ones we know with certainty are Athanasius and Marcellus of Akira, the profaner of clerics and hosts mentioned above.

After demonstrating his ‘orthodoxy’ Julius I admitted them, along with the remaining fugitives, into the fellowship of his church. And it is here, in Rome and in the West, that Athanasius acquires a decisive importance for his politics of power; where he works towards ‘a schism of the two halves of the Empire’ (Gentz), which is embodied in the year 343 in the Synod of Serdica.

The Arians, furious at the intrusion of Rome, ‘surprised to a great degree’, as stated in the manifesto they presented in Serdica, excommunicate Bishop Julius I: ‘the author and ringleader of evil’. And while Athanasius incites the spirits and serves for his ’cause’ in one of the halves of the Empire against the other, so that the struggle for the power of this Alexandrian bishop becomes the struggle for power in Rome, religiosity reaches culminating peaks in the East.

Faith of the Future, 4

by Matt Koehl

 

IV. Twilight of the West

As we have seen, the ultimate source of the decline of the West lies in the failure of the polar ideology, or mythos, which has formed its foundation. Once the dogmas of the dominant faith were effectively called into question and challenged—an unavoidable development, given the preposterous assertions of Christian doctrine on the one hand and the truth-seeking nature of Aryan man on the other—it was only a matter of time before the entire cultural order which rested upon it was itself called into doubt.

With the loss of belief in its guiding ideology—that is, with the dying out of Christianity—the West has lost faith in itself, and its death becomes inevitable. For the Christian worldview has stood at the very heart and soul of the West, permeating its art and culture. It was no accident, for instance, that in times past the term “Christendom” was synonymous with the West.

Cultures live and die with their gods. That the god of the West should have died was foreordained from the very beginning, and it is in this sense that Nietzsche’s celebrated pronouncement must be understood. For how could a Middle Eastern import permanently satisfy the real spiritual needs of Aryan man? Yahweh/Jehovah could murder Zeus and Jupiter, Odin and Thor. But how could he maintain forever the fiction that he was the real father of their children?

If we disregard all ephemeral revivalism, it can be clearly seen that the culture of the West has now reached the point of practical disbelief and atheism, a fact which is reflected in every field of modern cultural endeavor. Atonality and the eruption of alien rhythms in music, formlessness and insanity in painting and the plastic arts, cheapness and vulgarity in literature and on the stage, vapidity and grotesque ugliness of line in architecture—all of this bears disturbing witness to a spiritual, emptiness and sterility, to disorientation and a lack of direction, to an absence of values and standards and an ethos to inform artistic expression.

It is modern technology, however, which—by assuming a utilitarian function in a soulless, materialistic produce/consume society, rather than serving a higher cultural purpose—offers the conclusive statement that Western culture has nothing more to say. The West, as a culture, has exhausted all of its historical possibilities; it has no new direction in which it can go. This, of course, does not mean that Aryan man himself no longer possesses a creative capability. But this genius and talents must now find expression in a Western context. Western civilization itself cannot experience a rebirth. It has exploited and expended its potential and destroyed its one hope for a resurgence, and now it can only wallow in decadence and die. The Old Order is doomed.

Not only is the final collapse of the West inevitable, but for a New Order to emerge such a collapse is historically imperative. For only out of a new formation can there be the possibility of racial salvation for Aryan man. Indeed, this civilization must die, so that upon its ruins a new and greater culture may now rise. That is the meaning and message of contemporary events. That is the iron will of history.

Faith of the Future, 3

by Matt Koehl

 

III. The Decline of Christianity

The imposition of Christianity on the Aryan peoples of Northern Europe had one lasting effect. It resulted in an inner tension, a disquiet—an angst—which has been a protruding feature of Western culture from its inception. Throughout the history of the West, there has always existed a soul struggle keenly felt by the more perceptive spirits of the race, occasioned by the contradiction between the inverted values and tenets of an Oriental/Semitic belief system on the one hand and the natural religious feeling of Nordic/Aryan man on the other.

If the former furnished the ideological matrix of the culture, it was the latter which provided the creative inspiration, the divine spark. Indeed, the greatest moments of Western culture as a manifestation of Aryan genius—whether expressed in a specifically Christian or extra-Christian form—occurred despite the stricture of Church dogma, rather than because of it. Dante, Chaucer, [Edmund] Spenser, Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, Schiller, Shelley, Wordsworth, Keats, Byron, Leonardo, Michelangelo, Raphael, Botticelli, Dürer and Rembrandt all testify to this, no less than do Vivaldi, Bach, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner and Bruckner.

As we have seen, the external character of Christianity was greatly modified in its metamorphosis from a small Jewish cult into the mighty religion of the West. The medieval institution known as chivalry, in fact, with its refined honor code—which save for its Christian trappings more properly reflected the outlook and mores of a pre-Christian time—resulted from this very process, and provided a modus vivendi for opposing spiritual interests during the Middle Ages.

Thus, through a mutual accommodation of sorts was the underlying contradiction largely contained. And yet despite any institutional adjustment, the unease deriving from an alien idea remained latent within the fabric of the culture. The social and intellectual response to this inner tension varied. For their part, the kings, emperors and other secular rulers tended to treat the matter with cynical detachment, accommodating and offering resistance as political requirements dictated.

Among scholars and thinkers, on the other hand, there were those who, like Giordano Bruno, rose in open revolt against Church dogma. More often, however, the stirrings of disquiet were manifested in subtle attempts to orient Christian doctrine toward innate Aryan religiosity. This was particularly true of the mystics of the Middle Ages, like Scotus Erigena, Amalric of Bena and Meister Eckhart, who—going beyond the theology of the Church—looked inward into their own souls and to Nature itself to discover the kingdom of God.

It was with the Renaissance, however, that there appeared the most significant movement to challenge Church doctrine—a movement which would, in fact, set in motion an irreversible chain of events leading ultimately to the discrediting of that very doctrine as the core idea of a culture.

Now, for the first time, was the Promethean impulse able to break out of the clerical mold. Art came to express, not merely a sterile Semitic outlook, but the feelings of a Northern racial soul—a most notable development, which announced that creative vitality had stepped beyond the mythic prescriptions of the culture. The entire Judeo-Christian cosmology was called into question by new discoveries in the natural and physical sciences. Exploration across unknown seas commenced. Perhaps the most revolutionary single development of this time, however, was the discovery of movable type by Johannes Gutenberg, which enabled a much wider circulation of knowledge—knowledge other than that bearing an ecclesiastical imprimatur, knowledge transcending the basic ideology of the culture.

* * *

The most important consequence of the Gutenberg invention is to be seen in the Protestant Reformation, to which it was a contributing factor and whose development it greatly influenced. Up until the time of Martin Luther, the focus of Christian authority was the Papacy, whose word was unquestioned in matters of faith and dogma. Now, with the great schism in Christendom, a direct challenge was presented to ecclesiastical authority. It certainly was not, of course, die intent of Luther and the other dissenters to undermine or eliminate the Christian faith; rather the opposite. They merely wished to reform it. And yet, by challenging the one unifying institution of Christendom and causing a split in Christian ranks, they inadvertently opened the door to disbelief in the Christian mythos itself.

To replace papal authority in matters religious, Luther proposed to substitute the authority of the Book; and so, with the prospect of employing the Gutenberg invention, he undertook the prodigious task of translating obscure Hebrew scriptures into the German language—to the everlasting misfortune of Christianity.

It is ironic that in his quest for spiritual freedom, the Great Reformer should have rejected the despotism of the Papacy only to embrace the tyranny of the Torah and the ancient Jewish prophets. The arcane texts which had remained on musty shelves behind cloistered walls and accessible only to priests and theologians now became universal property. And now, instead of one single authority in matters of Christian exegesis, everyone—and no one—became an authority. Out of this there could be but one result: contradiction and confusion.

The effect on intelligent minds, of course, was devastating. For here it was now possible—in the best Talmudic fashion—to prove mutually exclusive points of view by reference to the same Semitic texts. Not only that, but critical examination of biblical literature gave rise to serious doubt concerning the veracity and validity of the subject matter itself, not to mention the peculiar mentality of its various authors. For the first time, perceptive minds could observe the obvious contradiction between empirical reality and what was claimed as holy writ.

Gradually there grew the inner realization that the faith itself was flawed, and creative genius began to look beyond the ideology of the Church for inspiration and direction. Even in those instances where Christian motifs continued to provide the external form for artistic expression—such as in the works of Bach, Corelli and Rubens, for example—the vital daemon which spoke was clearly extra-Christian and of a religious order transcending Church dogma.

And so even the Counter-Reformation, and the stylistic mode it inspired, succumbed to widening skepsis. A lessening of traditional belief had set in, and Aryan creativity now began to look increasingly in other directions for the divine. At the intellectual level, philosophy—which had long separated itself from theology—pursued its own independent quest for truth, while at the artistic level a succession of stylistic periods—impelled by irrepressible inner tension—sought ever newer forms of expression. Thus, the Baroque, having exploited all of its possibilities, gave way to the Rococo and the Classical, which in turn yielded to the Romantic of the last century and to the Impressionist, which has now been succeeded by the Modem era—which concludes the historical experience of the West.

* * *

Today, Christianity has reached its final stage. From both a spiritual and a scientific standpoint, its fundamental beliefs have become untenable. The advances of Aryan science have forever shattered the old Jewish myths. The cumulative impact of such figures as Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Newton and Darwin could not be eternally suppressed by ecclesiastical edict. When Church dogma, for example, insisted that the earth was the center of the universe and scientific investigation demonstrated otherwise, Aryan man was compelled by his innate regard for the truth to accept the latter at the expense of the former. In so doing, he came to question all other aspects of a once-sacrosanct belief system.

For the modem Church, this poses an impossible dilemma. The more it adheres to its fundamental doctrines, the more preposterous they must appear and the quicker will be its demise. On the other hand, once it attempts to reconcile itself with the findings of science by reinterpreting and redefining its basic tenets, it automatically concedes its moral position and its very reason for existence as an arbiter of truth.

The fact is that Christianity, as the dominant ideology of the West, has failed. It has exhausted all of its historical possibilities. No longer does it carry the emotional, mythic, polarizing force necessary to direct the spiritual life of a culture. Indeed, it is a spent cultural force no longer capable of adapting successfully to new organic realities.

All of this can be readily seen in the emptiness and sterility of modem cultural expression—reflecting the absence of any real spiritual values—as well as in the secularization of the Christian idea itself into liberal democracy and Marxism. Especially is this to be noted in the self-devaluation process of ecumenism and interfaith/inter-ideological dialogue, which constitutes the clearest concession by Christianity that it has failed and no longer has anything vital to offer. For once the Church admits that its doctrines are coequal with those of the nonbeliever, then what reason is there to be a believer?

It is not without significance that while the influence of Christianity is waning in the West, it is—through the sheer force of demographic pressure—gaining souls and expanding among nonwhites. Not only is this particularly true in Latin America, but also in Africa and—to a lesser extent—in Asia as well.

This development has, of course, not escaped the notice of the Church, which—with obsequious interracial posturing and attempts to divorce itself from its historical Western setting—has chosen to redirect the Christian appeal toward the colored world as the primary area of its interest and concern. In abandoning its Western role, however, Christianity has announced its conclusion as a cultural force. And so, whatever it may have traditionally represented for past generations of Europeans and North Americans no longer obtains.

Accordingly, it would be a mistake to assume that the Judeo-Christian idea has anything to offer the white peoples in their contemporary struggle for survival—that it might in any way be capable of addressing the vital needs and concerns of endangered Aryan life on this planet.

What now exists in the name of Christianity—apart from certain nostalgic, retrograde attempts to revive a historical corpse in a world of uncertainty and personal insecurity—is nothing more than fossil formalism and sterile nominalism without genuine vitality or substance, reflecting the marginal relevance of this particular ideology in today’s society. For in the face of modem realities, the Christian worldview simply has nothing more to say. It has fulfilled its historic role; it is now moribund. At best, it is irrelevant. At worst, it is an avowed enemy, a deadly menace to the Aryan race and its survival.

It may well be argued that the worst consequences of such ideological and spiritual error were far less conspicuous before the Second World War. Does the same hold true today, however, when the final effects of that error can be plainly seen? For well over a millennium now, Christianity has held a monopoly as the self-proclaimed custodian of the spiritual and moral well-being of an entire cultural order—for which one must reasonably assume that it has accepted concomitant responsibility.

What, then, are the fruits of its spiritual regime? We see them all around us. They are the symptoms of a diseased civilization: decadence, degeneracy, depravity, corruption, pollution, egoism, hedonism, materialism, Marxism and ultimately atheism. Yes, atheism. By destroying whatever natural religious feeling once existed in the hearts of our people and substituting alien myths and superstitions, it must now bear full responsibility for the diminished capacity for spiritual belief among our folk.

It will perhaps be objected that the Church itself is opposed to all of the above indesiderata. I am sorry: the responsibility for what has been claimed as a divine charge cannot be so easily evaded. Words aside, these happen to be the actual results of its earthly reign.

The Promethean spirit of Aryan man, for its part, must now look in other directions.

Faith of the Future, 2

by Matt Koehl

 

II. Christianity and the West

When Christianity in its Nicene form first made its appearance amongst the Germanic peoples of Northern Europe, the future progenitors of the West greeted the new doctrine with considerable suspicion and less than full enthusiasm. For their part, they felt more comfortable with their own indigenous gods and beliefs than with the strange new import from out of the East. Even with the accretion of Hellenistic and Roman elements during its migration from Judea, Christianity—with its underlying Oriental/Semitic character—remained essentially alien to the personality and disposition of the proud Teuton. Within the soul of our ancient forebears, the very concept of original sin was perceived as unreasonable and perverse, just as calls for pacifism and self-abnegation were regarded as demeaning to their inherent dignity.

The inborn religiosity—Frömmigkeit—of these men of the North involved values of personal honor and loyalty, upright manliness, courage and heroism, honesty, truthfulness, reason, proportion, balance and self-restraint, coupled with pride of race, a questing spirit and a profound respect for the natural world and its laws—ideas representative of a worldview which the early Christian missionaries found incompatible with their own doctrine and which they proceeded to condemn as heathen.

If they displayed but little inclination to embrace the new faith, these early Teutons were by the same token not unaccommodating in their attitude. With characteristic Nordic tolerance in such matters, they were perfectly willing to permit the peaceful coexistence of a foreign god alongside the natural deities of their own folk.

For its part, however, the intruding new doctrine—impelled by a hitherto-unknown Semitic spirit of hatred and intolerance—commenced to demand the elimination of all competitors, insisting that homage be rendered to but one jealous god, the former Jewish tribal god—Yahweh, or Jehovah—and to his son. Alien in its doctrine, the Creed of Love now felt obliged to employ equally alien methods to achieve its purposes. Under the auspices of the sword and accompanied by mass extermination, Christian conversion now made great strides where formerly peaceful persuasion had failed. In this manner, for example, were the tender mercies of the Christian savior disclosed to Widukind’s Saxons and Olaf Tryggvason’s Norsemen. If it was hypocritical and inherently contradictory, it was nevertheless effective, and all of Europe was thereby saved for Christianity

* * *

It would be a mistake, however, to assume that only through force and violence did Christianity prevail. In the propagation of its doctrine and the fulfillment of what it considered to be its holy mission, the Church displayed amazing flexibility and suppleness. It was not loath, for instance, to adopt and adapt for its own purposes as it deemed appropriate certain aspects of ancient heathendom, particularly those which were most firmly rooted in the folk experience of our early forebears. Not only did this serve as an aid in the conversion process, making the Christian notion more palatable to the Nordic prospect, but it was also useful in inducing greater conformity and submission on the part of those already converted.

Especially during the reign of Pope Gregory did this policy receive definitive sanction. Former heathen holy places were appropriated as sites for the new chapels, churches and shrines. The Northern winter solstice celebration, Yule, was arbitrarily selected as the official birthday of the Christian savior. The spring celebration of reawakening Nature, Easter, was designated as the time of the Christian resurrection following the Jewish Passover. The summer solstice celebration, Midsummer, was transmogrified into the Feast of St. John, accompanied by the traditional rites of fire and water. In similar manner were other ancient festivals taken over and transformed: Whitsuntide, or High May, became the Day of Pentecost; the Celtic festival of Samhain became All Hallow’s Eve; and Lent, acquiring Christian coloration, recalled a former season of the same name.

Not only was Christian adaptation confined to sacred days alone, however, it extended to heathen deities, customs and symbols as well. A multiplicity of saints and angels, for example—not to mention demons—came to replace the various gods and heroes of pre-Christian times. Ritual infant-sprinkling became Christian baptism, or christening, just as the salubrious effect of holy water generally was quickly discovered by the new faith. Similarly, the lighted tree and evergreen decoration at Christmas time were taken over virtually intact from previous heathen custom. Even the Cross itself was adapted from pre-Christian sources, replacing the earlier Fish, Dove and Star as the emblem of the faith—a fact which led to considerable distress and controversy when it was first introduced in the early Church!

And so, in addition to those Hellenistic, Roman and Babylonian elements which already overlaid an original Jewish nucleus, a Northern component was now introduced to the spiritual mélange which was to become medieval Christianity. With all of these accretions, however, it was essentially the outer form of the faith which was affected and modified; the inner substance of the doctrine retained its basically Oriental/Semitic character. If the new creed was not particularist like its Judaic parent, this had to do with its conceived leveling function among non-Jews. For what had originally been an exclusively Jewish sect had become—at the instance of the erstwhile Pharisee Saul/Paul—a universal creed directed at the Aryan world, denying the validity of all racial, ethnic and personal distinctions.

Thus it was, that out of this alien germ there emerged the faith which was to form the spiritual mold of Western culture.

Faith of the Future, 1

by Matt Koehl

(Faith of the Future was originally published
in the Spring 1982 issue of The National
Socialist
, and in book form in 1995.)

February 10, 1972, Arlington, Virginia. Matt Koehl, the comander of the White National Socialist Party at a desk talking with the party secratary about recent newspaper reaction to the boicot of the busing.

 

To those who are worthy of him

I. Idea and Civilization

Every great culture, every great civilization—every human order of any significance, in fact—has a polar ideology or mythos, which furnishes the emotional, suprarational foundation for that particular order. The life and destiny of a culture are inseparable from such a nuclear idea. It serves as a formative pole, which during a culture’s vital period provides for a unity of political, religious and cultural expression.

There are numerous examples. In ancient Egypt, the singular concept of the ka found its cultural elaboration in the construction of the pyramids. In a similar manner, Taoism combined with Confucianism and Buddhism to form the spiritual core of traditional Chinese culture, just as the cult life of the Japanese revolved around Shinto, and just as Islam furnished the spiritual matrix for a cultural flowering in the Near East during the Middle Ages. Among Indo-Europeans, it was the Vedic tradition which formed the basis for an exquisite Hindu civilization, while a pantheon of Classical gods and heroes presided over the destinies of ancient Hellas and Rome.

If one now turns to the West, one cannot avoid the conclusion that it is the Christian worldview which stands at the heart of this particular culture.[1] Indeed, its very symbol is the towering Gothic cathedral. In its art, its architecture, its music, literature and philosophy, the West is pervaded by the omnipresence of Christianity. In the magnificent frescoes of Michelangelo, in the polyphonic rhythms of Vivaldi and Bach, the literary masterpieces of Dante, Chaucer and Milton, the philosophy of Thomas Aquinas, Kant and Hegel—in all of this, the heavy backdrop of Christianity looms unmistakably against the cultural horizon.

Even figures such as Shakespeare, Rembrandt, Mozart, Beethoven, Wagner and Schopenhauer—even Voltaire and Nietzsche!— whose creative daemon transcended Church dogma in noticeable fashion even they are witness to the ineluctable presence of the Christian idea as a cultural fact. And even if one contends that the works of these personalities had nothing to do with Christian doctrine as such, but derived their ultimate inspiration from other sources, the very fact that such an argument is put forth at all constitutes the most conclusive proof that Christianity is, indeed, the mythos of Western culture, the core idea around which all cultural expression revolves. For even when its fundamental tenets have been challenged and disbelieved, it has continued to qualify the cultural milieu and furnish the central reference point for thought and action.

It is not without significance that those two major languages of Western thought—German and English—should have received their modem form from a translation of the Christian Bible; that the main function of the first Western universities was to teach Christian theology; and that natural science—that domain so uniquely fascinating to the Aryan intellect, which has come to challenge the very foundations of traditional faith itself—began very humbly as the quiet, conscientious study of the world of the Christian creator. All of this is but eloquent testimony that the Christian worldview does, indeed, form the spiritual matrix—the nuclear center—of Western culture.
 
_____________

[1] In referring to the West, we mean that manifestation of European culture which emerged following the collapse of the Classical civilizations of Greece and Rome and which assumed definitive form in the time of Charlemagne around AD 800.