Fifty-two Easters ago I sat by that great river, the Rhine, a boy of 14 staying on holiday with a German family in the Hohenzollern Ringstrasse in Cologne. I went there from a much different England from that of today: an England where you could speak and write your mind on the Jewish issue free from race relations prohibition; where a coloured face was an oddity; where old ladies could go out at dark without being mugged; where the noxious noise known as “pop” was non-existent; and where jeans were only workmen’s overalls and not the daily dress of a decayed and disintegrating society.
I went to a Germany veritably reborn from the degradation of Weimar democracy, the nation electrified with an exultant feeling of corporate purpose and achievement which made every day a holiday, indeed literally a holy day, and this more than anything else because of the vision and the will of one marvel of a man in arousing millions in active service for the Aryan cause.
Never before or since in all history has any man tremendously championed the cause of our race as he whose centenary of birth falls on April 20th of this year, 1989. It is in this respect – transcending all comparative minutiae of criticism – that Adolf Hitler was then and is now to be hailed as a hero, and signified as right.
It was, of course, a certainty from the start that the whole assortment of anti-Aryan forces everywhere would congregate and contrive for his destruction: that was the very measure of his greatness. Poland, in the purblind protagonism of self-benefiting iniquities of the Versailles Treaty, provided a fulcrum for their foul purpose. Thus it was that 1939 presented the last opportunity for all those outside Germany devoted to Aryan interests to rise up and stop the demented drive to disaster, reform their own countries, abandon the fratricidal nationalisms benefiting the common enemy, and bring about instead a unity of the Aryan peoples to withstand the multiplying numbers and mounting power of non-Aryans of this globe.
Sadly, they failed to do so, and so the most terrible of the blood-baths of the brothers followed with the most awful spectacle of so many Aryan nationalists aligning themselves with their real enemy, the anti-Aryan elements in their midst, and even today purporting to be proud of their war service against their ideological and racial kin.
I say this not from some smug standpoint of detached hindsight, but as one who, in his everlasting and agonizing reflection on the immensity of the Aryan catastrophe of 1939-45, derives some slight consolation from the fact that at the time, after a mere period of unsuccessful training in the Fleet Air Arm, he came to see the folly of the war, and accordingly, on political grounds, refused to fight against National Socialist Germany.
Only an overwhelming advantage of men and material enabled the powers of darkness to gain victory, and that victory was automatically the defeat of everything Aryan and the triumph of all things else. From the war and its ghastly conclusion have followed all our present afflictions and perils. This – the appalling state of Britain today – exemplifies what it was all about. This is what Britain’s democrats fought for.
Sometime after the culminating disaster of 1945, I sat again in Germany, spending half a night on the debris of the “Berghof,” the mountain home of the man of the century whose centenary currently occurs, and which Jewry’s Allies first bombed and then, fearful even of the ruins, blasted them to smithereens. Amid the magic of the place, seemingly invested that night with his immortal spirit, and with the little, fairy-like lights of Berchtesgaden far below – as he himself saw them so many times – and matched by the other little lights of the stars far above, one of which chose that time to depart its station end cascade across the firmament; I contemplated at length the immensity of what had been lost to us and the corresponding immensity of the price to be paid in the future.
This filled me anew with an intensity of certainty and his rightness, and so in a later year I returned to spend another night testifying to that certainty with a huge “Hitler was right!” slogan painted all over the one remaining boundary wall of the site.
As the centenary draws near and arrives, it is fitting that we contemplate the Britain, the Europe, and the world which would have been ours today, if this crazy country of ours had not in 1939 taken upon herself the role of a principal in the devastation of what was then the present to the despoilment of what is now our future, and had instead responded favourably to the message and the example of he who truly came as the saviour of our age.
Our towns today, instead of resounding to the twilight of the hordes from Africa and Asia, would still be the exclusive property of the descendants of their Anglo-Saxon and Celtic creators. Our youth, instead of being stricken with drugs and all the other debasements of the hideous “pop culture,” would be trekking in their physical splendour our byways and hills, and joining with the kindred youth of other parts of Europe in great demonstrations of comradeship and confidence in the even greater glories of tomorrow on the road to superhumanity.
Our media, instead of being in all senses an alien instrument of corruption, ceaselessly promoting national decline and racial degeneration, would be consecrated to the upliftment of our people.
Our teachers, instead of being almost entirely sickly purveyors of pollution, would be salubrious models and guides for a just and orderly and prosperous folk-community.
Such contemplation is not simply some sterile projection of nostalgia but the purposeful source of that most powerful propellant for action which is a flaming fury.
It may well be, realistically, that we have had and lost our last chance to achieve such ideals, at least for the present age, and thus are now getting not nearer to but further away from the millennium. Even so, be sure that this is no cause whatever for surrender and inaction.
Resistance to evil is not an option but a never-ending bodily necessity for any and every real National Socialist, bringing a triumph of the will over any and all adversity, this being always a spiritual victory which is always the most important victory of all.
For April 20th, 1989, your pass-words must therefore be: Never forget what the enemies of Hitler have done to your country!
Never forgive them for what they have done! Never cease to strike back against them to the utmost that you can for what they have done! This is the only meaningful way to celebrate the day and to honour the man, making sure that those enemies will have good cause to remember and regret.