Gold in the Furnace
Page 38
People do not like that trait in us. They say we are “awful,” if not “odious.” The Communists are not “awful” because they never say what they wish to do, and never do what they say. Also because they never tell their opponents how much they hate them or despise them, before they have crushed them. They do not defy them before fighting them, as warriors have always done.
What they—or rather what the Jews who inspired their movement—want, and what most people want, is also not exactly the same thing. “Security,” yes; the Jews, and those Communists who serve Jewish interests without knowing it, and the average man in the street, all want that. But the man in the street wants it that he might enjoy his insignificant little life without worries; the Communist wants it as the supreme goal of a humanity for which the economic side of life is everything, because he loves such a humanity as it is, or—if he be a Russian Communist—perhaps because he fears the German National Socialists’ “Ostpolitik,” Germany’s natural expansion at his expense in the struggle for vital space. The Jew wants “security” so that, amidst docile, unthinking, and ever-content masses, he and his race might forever remain “at the top.” It is not at all the same thing. But it can be, and is, called by the same name, and presented in such a manner as to look the same thing.
In fact, the whole power technique both of the Communists and of the Democrats consists in making people feel “free” while prompting them, quietly, to behave like obedient puppets; in making them believe that they think for themselves and act according to the dictates of their own feelings, while, all the time, they only think and feel what the guiding force of the system suggests to them through the press, the radio, the films, and other channels, and act as it wants them to. The, guiding force of the system is the unseen Jew.
I would say more: this is, under one form or another, the natural power technique of all Weltanschauungen of disintegration. It was, and still is, the secret of the hold of the Christian Churches upon people. For Christianity is also such a Weltanschauung. Like Communism, like Democracy, it is based upon lies and, what is more, upon Jewish lies. A notoriously anti-Nazi English authoress287 once told me—before she knew who I was—about what she calls “the main lies of the Jews”: first, that they are the Chosen People; second, that the Bible is entirely theirs; third, that a man of their race is “the only Son of God.” The woman was clever enough to detect these impostures. But other Jewish lies had so thoroughly influenced her mind without her even suspecting them, that she was incapable of freeing herself from all the Christian and Democratic twaddle about the “dignity of all men” and so forth, and about the “horror” of brutal force (but of course, only when we use it). And she was violently against us.
Communism is only, perhaps, still a little more deceitful than the earlier philosophies of Jewish inspiration and that, even when it is no longer used by Jews but by Russian imperialists. Still then, its Jewish character sticks to it. It is the source of its strength, as opposed to our philosophy. Not only the man in the street, but the better type of foreign Communist will run forth to fight for hidden Russian imperialism as readily as others do for hidden Jewish capitalism—without knowing it. While the foreign Nazi who is prepared to fight and die for the Germans because they are Hitler’s compatriots and first collaborators, knows fully well what he (or she) is doing.
But, if it be an advantage now, from the standpoint of numbers, this deceit upon which Communist power is established will prove fatal to it in the long run and, perhaps, help to prepare the coming of our day. True, millions are ready to die for something which does not interest them at all, provided they do not know it, and remain convinced that they are dying for something else, which they do value. But, “one cannot deceive all people for all times”—not even great numbers of people for all times. A day is bound to come when they will find out that they are being tricked. Some seem to have found it out already, to a greater or lesser extent. There have been repeated “purges” in the Communist party, since Stalin has come to power and, curiously enough, an impressive proportion of the eliminated members were Jews—“Trotskyists,” putting stress upon “world revolution” rather than upon the immediate interests of the Soviet State. The Marxist principles are, doubtless, there still, rammed into everyone’s head. Principles are not so easily disposed of as people. Yet, there is a definite tendency, if not towards “Russian nationalism” in the sense that word might have had once, at least towards the systematic strengthening of that particular Euro-Asiatic Bloc (more Asiatic than European) that constitutes the Soviet Union—a tendency that might well, one day, end in a pan-Mongolian policy, to the disappointment of many simple Marxist “idealists” both of Aryan and of Jewish blood.
On the other hand, the nationalist attitude of certain German Communists is still more significant. It does not tally at all with their professed faith. As for the racial discriminations which, I am told, a few German “Communist” circles are beginning to admit today, well . . . what is Communism with racial discriminations amongst an overwhelmingly Aryan population, if not, as I remarked before, National Socialism in disguise? That hated National Socialism! Surely history—in all times but especially in ours—is “the greatest of ironists.”288
In the long run—and perhaps much sooner than we ourselves dare to believe—our consistent frankness will pay. Our Führer has once said: “One day the world will know that I was right.” And his words will receive in time a glaring confirmation, however widely unpopular we and our Weltanschauung might still be today.
* * *
One has always to come back to the cyclic theory of history for a satisfactory understanding of the momentous happenings of our epoch. I repeat—believing one can never put too much emphasis upon the fact—our outlook on life, our socio-political views, our conception of government are not “out of time,” but pre-eminently “against time,” which is quite different. However strange this might sound to those who judge it from a narrow, purely political angle, National Socialism is the everlasting Religion of Life—the unshakable truth about life which in a Golden Age would appear to everybody as evident as daylight—applied, on the material plane, at the very epoch which is the remotest from the Age of perfection: at the end of a great historical Cycle. It was bound to be misunderstood, hated, betrayed, reviled, rejected; in all appearance, to fail. And the age-old death tendency, the lust for disintegration inherent in all evolution in time, was bound to triumph today in Democracy; is bound to triumph, still more completely, tomorrow, in Communism, the logical and ruthless outcome of the Democratic principles in a technically advanced age; the system based upon the precedence of quantity over quality; upon economics at the expense of biology; upon the ideal of “man” as a producing machine for the greatest material benefit of the greatest number of worthless human units, as opposed to that of man as a warrior fighting to impose his faith in superhumanity upon the racial élite of mankind and the rule of that élite upon the world. The forces of disintegration were and are bound to win, I say. But only for the time being—only until this wretched humanity meets its unavoidable doom, and the new Day dawns.
For nothing can break the endless cycle of life and death, death and life: the law of everlasting Return, true on the socio-political plane as on all others. As surely as the Sun will rise tomorrow morning, National Socialism will come to power once more. As surely as spring will bring forth its green grass, its violets and its fruit blossoms and its tender blades of growing corn after the apparent death of Nature in winter, so will our ideal—of health, strength and beauty, of order and manly virtues—Adolf Hitler’s ideal—again inspire the natural aristocracy of the world. As surely as birth follows death in the everlasting cosmic Dance of destruction and creation, martyred Germany will rise once more from her ashes, and again take the lead of the Aryan race. United, in spite of all efforts to dismember her; fully aware of her value and of her divine mission; in possession of the strength of eternal youth—of that “will to power” that has charac
terised her people from the far-gone ice age to the present day—again she shall stand, and again she shall march, exultant, defiant, irresistible. And again the Horst Wessel Song, now forbidden in its very birthplace, shall resound along the great international highways, and in the streets of conquered capitals.
We who believe in Adolf Hitler and in his mission need fear nothing from a Communist victory in the coming titanic conflict between our persecutors of East and West. The technically undeveloped races of Asia and Africa might well find Communism wonderful for a change. But in a world dominated by Communism, the growing discontent of the people of Northern Europe and, in general, of all the technically more advanced and also more thinking nations of Aryan blood, would be enough to provoke, in our favour, such a reaction as no amount of coercion could halt. A complete Democratic victory, won without our help (supposing that it were possible) would be far worse: it would amount to a much more subtle and more demoralising enslavement. But the strength of Communism is so great in the world that even a dubious victory of the Democracies would be impossible without our collaboration. And our collaboration would mean the overthrow of the Democratic order immediately after the war—or perhaps before—and the reinstallation of our socio-political order, stronger than ever. In other words, in the near future, the Democracies will just have to choose between our iron rule and that of the Communists. And we will be the ultimate victors in any case; the victors in a ruined world, no doubt; the only men erect, and composed—nay, beaming with joy, after all our sufferings—amidst the remnants of a scattered and frightened pack of monkeys. But who cares? Triumph will be just as sweet, just as elating to us. For we count; not the monkeys. And Germany, once so prosperous, which they tore and smashed, could hardly be more ruined than she is already, whatever happens.
We will not try to “convert,” “reform,” “re-educate” the submen. Oh, no! Of that, their prototypes, our present-day persecutors, can remain quite sure. Remembering all we suffered since 1945 under the rule of our inferiors—the rule of deceit and slander, of threat and bribery—remembering the torture of our comrades in their concentration camps; the agony and death of the martyrs of Nuremberg, and the victims of a hundred other iniquitous “war crimes” trials; the martyrdom of all Germany; the mental agony of our beloved Führer who witnessed those horrid days, facing alone the frenzied hatred of the ungrateful world he had wanted to save, we shall just broadcast to the survivors of that world our supreme ultimatum: “Hitler, or hell!” and make it hell for all those who will still think themselves clever enough to resist us, openly or secretly. But not as long a hell as that which we endured, and are still enduring. For they will not have, to sustain them, a faith in their cause comparable with our faith in National Socialism. Nor such a horrible one either. For we shall afford the luxury of mercy, when we rule the earth: we will despatch the troublesome fools as quickly as possible.
And then, when the last opposition is broken—if there be any opposition; for all I know, after the Third World War there might not be any—then, I say, our era; the actual Golden Age of a new Cycle; a hierarchised world (in which every regenerate race and every animal species shall be healthy and happy and beautiful) governed by a minority of living Aryan gods, according to the everlasting Nazi principles. And our beloved Führer—whether in the flesh, as I dare hope, or in spirit only—Weltführer, even more completely and more lastingly than if, pushing through Russia and High Asia and further still at the head of the German Army in 1942, he had entered Delhi and received the sworn allegiance of East and West in the glittering marble hall in which once stood the famous Peacock Throne.
* * *
Is this a superb but insane dream? Many would think so, as they look around and behold the present-day wretchedness of the dismembered Land—the “Land of fear,” in which Adolf Hitler’s beloved name is uttered only in whispers. I would think so myself, if I did not firmly believe in the cyclic Law of Time, and if I were not convinced that the end of this degenerate humanity and the following new beginning are drawing nigh. The study of world history has more and more confirmed me in that belief. And that belief has helped me to bear the sight of the ruins of Germany without losing heart. “Mortar and stone,” as I said once, “it can all be rebuilt. As long as the Nazi spirit remains alive, nothing is lost.”
I have tried to keep that spirit alive against the dictates of our persecutors, in the name of the dictate of my heart, of the inner law of an unbending nature, and of the birthright of the superior races to thrive and to rule. In appearance, I failed—as we failed. All I have done is to win for me a sentence of three years’ imprisonment. But an all-powerful inner certitude tells me I have not failed (any more than we have); tells me that in three hundred years to come—perhaps much sooner—the whole of the Aryan world will look up to Adolf Hitler as I have done all my life, and render homage to this nation of his to whom I have come, in these atrocious times, to show a sign of love. I am, today, the first fruits of the love and reverence of future Aryandom for its Saviour; the first fruits of the world’s grateful tribute to National Socialist Germany.
Once, on one of the vine-clad hills that border the river Saar, I stood alone, my right arm outstretched, upon the ruins of a “bunker” blown up three years before by the invading Americans—the “crusaders to Europe,” champions of the Christian and Democratic values against National Socialist Heathendom, Aryan Heathendom. I stood, facing the east—facing Germany—and sang the immortal Song: “Standards high! Close the ranks! Storm Troopers, march with a calm and firm step! Comrades whom the Red Front and the Reaction have shot, march in spirit within our ranks!”
The Sun shed His rays upon me. And the joy of defiance shone in my face. Also, the joy of future triumph. The “crusaders” of the dark forces had blown up that “bunker” and hundreds of others; poured fire and brimstone over all Germany. But could they keep the martial words of the forbidden Song from resounding under the blue sky, over the sunlit landscape? Could they keep me—a non-German Aryan—from remaining faithful to Hitler’s Germany in her defeat and ruin and martyrdom? Could they suppress, one day, in the future, the allegiance of a better world to the Führer and to his ideals and to the people he loved so much—that allegiance which I foreshadowed and symbolised in my humble way?
The music of the Song poured out of me as a magic spell—as the death warrant of Germany’s persecutors in the name of the higher justice of future Aryan humanity.
The Aryan world’s future justice is that justice to which I appeal today, against the decrees of those who hate us. The Aryan world’s future allegiance to the Führer, is my life-long love, on a scale of millions of people, and for centuries—the greatest “German miracle.”
I might have failed, materially, and for the time being. But I am the first sign of that miracle, sent to Germany by the Gods, as a token of love; the promise of the endless admiration of the best, in near and distant times to come. In the midst of her temporary defeat and humiliation, I am Nazi Germany’s living, lasting victory.
In spite of all contrary appearances, we did not fail; we cannot fail. Truth never fails.
Heil Hitler!
(Finished in cell no. 49 of the Werl prison, on the 16th of July, 1949)
ABOUT THE AUTHORESS
SAVITRI DEVI (1905-1982) is one of the most original and influential National Socialist thinkers of the post-World War II era. Born Maximine Julia Portaz in Lyons, France on 30 September 1905, she was of English, Greek, and Italian ancestry and described her nationality as “Indo-European.” She earned Master’s Degrees in philosophy and chemistry and a Ph.D. in philosophy from the University of Lyons.
A self-described “nationalist of every nation” and an Indo-European pagan revivalist, Savitri Devi embraced National Socialism in 1929 while in Palestine. In 1935, she travelled to India to experience in Hinduism the last living Indo-European pagan religion. Settling eventually in Calcutta, she worked for the Hindu nationalist movement, married a Bengali Brahmin
, the pro-Axis publisher Asit Krishna Mukherji, and spied for the Japanese during World War II.
After World War II, Savitri Devi embarked upon an itinerant, ascetic life. Her two chief activities were tireless witness on behalf of National Socialism and caring for homeless and abused animals.
Savitri Devi influenced such leading figures of post-war National Socialism as George Lincoln Rockwell, Colin Jordan, William Pierce, and Miguel Serrano. In 1962, she took part in the Cotswolds camp, where the World Union of National Socialists (WUNS) was formed.
Her sixteen books include A Warning to the Hindus (1939), L’Etang aux lotus (The Lotus Pond) (1940), A Son of God: The Life and Philosophy of Akhnaton, King of Egypt (1946), later republished as Son of the Sun (1956), Akhnaton: A Play (1948), Defiance (1951), The Lightning and the Sun (1958), Pilgrimage (1958), Impeachment of Man (1959), Long-Whiskers and the Two-Legged Goddess (1965), Souvenirs et réflexions d’une Aryenne (Memories and Reflections of an Aryan Woman) (1976), and And Time Rolls On: The Savitri Devi Interviews (2005).
Savitri Devi died in England on 22 October 1982.
ABOUT THE EDITOR
R. G. FOWLER is Archivist of the online Savitri Devi Archive (www.savitridevi.org), editor of And Time Rolls On: The Savitri Devi Interviews (Atlanta: Black Sun Publications, 2005), and General Editor of the Centennial Edition of Savitri Devi’s Works.