The Rebellion of the Helots Against Liberalism's Zimbabwean Telos
The Rebellion of the Helots Against Liberalism's Zimbabwean Telos
Thoughts on Palestine, on Rhodesia, on the Troubles spreading from Ireland to England, and on the growing war between the guttering light and the encroaching darkness.
This ended up being much longer than I intended (yes, I know, I always say that). It is probably three or four essays in one – about Palestine and Pride, about Rhodesia and Zimbabwe, about the Troubles that have broken out in England, and how all of these things hang together. I started writing it about a week ago, but events have been moving with exceptional rapidity. I’ve had to revise and expand several times already, and it’s probably a complete mess as a result, littered with typos and grammatical mistakes and probably some amount of misinformation I’ve unknowingly picked up, which is difficult to avoid as events go kinetic in the thick fog of war.
I’m standing on the steps in front of the hostel’s doorway, which is the only nearby place with sufficient depth of shelter to protect us from the elements, which are foul on this night. My companions for the evening are drawn from various parts of Europe for their various reasons to this hostel, and we’re standing out here so we can smoke while we drink, the terrace having been shut at an absurdly early hour due to noise complaints from neighbouring residents. Noise complaints seem to get outdoor drinking facilities shut everywhere these days, as condos get built next to recreational districts, to the ultimate regret of both.
A blue-eyed, blonde, bearded German kid in a black hoodie strides up from out of the rain. There is hate burning in his eyes. “Apologize!” he demands. He’s accompanied by several others, but they just go ahead of him into the building.
I was chatting with an American girl at the time, about America. I’d started talking to her only moments before and we hadn’t yet gotten to the part of the conversation in which she found out I wasn’t American, and were making small talk about wherever it was specifically that she was from.
“For?” I asked him.
“Israel’s crimes against Palestine!” he practically chanted. I write from memory, and was a bit drunk at the time, so the conversation is not verbatim.
I had no interest whatsoever in discussing the conflict between Israel and Palestine, as I have very little sympathy for either and much distaste for both. Being asked to apologize for Israel was a bit galling, especially from a dumb kid tweaking out on Palestine rallies, which his practically vibratory state implied had been his main enthusiasm for a while now.
“I’m not Israeli, so why would I apologize?”
“It’s America’s support that makes Israel’s crimes possible!”
Normally I probably would have said, but I’m Canadian, bud, which usually defuses such situations, but instead I asked him curiously, “Do you want to fight about it?”, as it seemed like he might.
Perhaps my body language communicated that for a moment, between the buzz and the abrupt annoyance, I sort of hoped he said yes. Instead he blinked. “No,” he deflated. I nodded at him and he went inside.
It was a curious interaction. I’d seen several Palestinian solidarity protests erupting in town squares around the country, which seemed to come and go like the other, more entertaining street performances, dancers and musicians and such. But this was the first time I’d engaged directly with the Palestinian fanbase, and the look in this kid’s eyes, the intensity of anger with which he’d been charged, was like touching a live, sparking wire.
A few days later, and I’m in another of these large cosmopolitan European cities, in which the local population has become a random sample of the globe’s worst regions, rather than anything recognizably European. The city square I’m standing in has a gorgeous cathedral on one edge, and what I assume is the town hall, equally stunning, on another, separated by a wide expanse of cobblestone plaza, with multiple streets and avenues curling away like the strands of a spider’s web. Down a couple of the avenues are processions of progress pride banners, and of course pride flags and even pride flowers are to be seen everywhere you look throughout the city. I’d thought Pride Month was in June, but as we saw at the Olympics, Current Year Zero is Pride Year, now, always, and forever, a celebration which never stops. The perpetual party is the most basic promise made by the global uniparty. Give us your freedom, your land, your very souls, they say, and you can stick anything you want into your butt, forever.
Gathered in a circle in the centre of the square is the audience of a Palestinian solidarity protest, chanting Viva Viva Palestine! along with various other things as the preachers at the circle’s centre pace about with megaphones.
Something about the juxtaposition of progress pride with pro-Palestine struck me as hilarious. The former is supposedly all about universal love, while the latter is supposedly about justice, and I suppose if you see both in that frame – as leftists of every sort do – it is all rather noble. But the love celebrated by Pride is only of the most debased sort, while the justice demanded by Palestine seems to reduce only to hate, so your mileage on that nobility may vary.
I stayed for a bit, trying to record video that captured the juxtaposition of flag and rally, though nothing I was able to get was entirely satisfactory, and before I could try for a third take the chanting ended. The preachers, it seemed, were taking a break. As I walked away an unpleasant individual crossed my path. He had a villainous look, simultaneously idiotic and mean, possibly homeless, a junkie, maybe just demented. His eye caught mine. Viva Viva Palestine, he chanted numbly, with an idiot smile, as though it was a question. Would I respond in kind? He seemed to be asking. Was I friend or enemy? I broke eye contact with the wretch and walked on. Of course it would be this sort of person that the preachers would be attracting ... poor, aimless, alienated, impressionable, a perfect subject for hypnosis via repetitive emotional conditioning.
Not that such programming is effective only on low quality human capital. The German kid had every appearance of excellent genetics. One sensed a lineage of Teutonic warriors in those features, with the fiery soul to match, flickering moodily behind the ice-blue eyes. His ancestors, of course, would have moved to gut me with a broadsword at my challenge, but they had not been subjected to a lifetime of conditioning that violence is always wrong. His ancestors, I suspect, despair when they look down on him from the mists of the otherworld.
How many are there out there who are getting charged up in this fashion? Transfixed by Palestinian solidarity rallies, reinforced no doubt by immersion in their own online propaganda engines, and having this volatile anger put inside of them? The rallies seem to be very effective at building anger inside of people, and sending them wobbling back into society like little bombs looking for a place to explode.
Although perhaps that is not an entirely accurate way of framing it, as there is no question that there is a vast subterranean sea of boiling rage brooding throughout the body politic, and it might therefore be better said that the Palestine rallies are merely giving that energy a pathway to come bubbling up to the surface. Is there not a kind of cowardice in the European youth who align themselves with the Palestinian cause? A submission to a lifetime of conditioning that it is always illegitimate to take one’s own side? Could their solidarity be no more than sublimation of their own repressed anger, at what is being done to them? The Palestinians are getting pushed off of their land – yes, and so are you. The Palestinians are being subjected to inhuman violence by the occupation forces – yes, and so are you. The Palestinians are being psychologically tortured – yes, and so are you! Yet you dare not complain about what is being done to you...
The proximate target of their displeasure is Israel, but essentially all Western countries are viewed as collaborators, and therefore morally complicit in the suffering of the Palestinians, thereby making Western countries legitimate targets as well. There can be little doubt that the ultimate target of the protesters’ wrath is not only Israel, but European civilization in general. Israel’s sin is specifically articulated by leftists as a particularly extreme and depraved variety of white supremacy settler-colonialism, and they oppose not only the Jewish exemplar but the wider civilization whose various nations have done this to peoples all over the world for several centuries, to the point that multiple continents are in its hands. They intend to decolonize those lands, to make them diverse and inclusive, as they have already succeeded in making Rhodesia and South Africa.
Rhodesia of course does not even exist anymore. It changed its name to Zimbabwe, the awful tragicomedy of which has essentially decolonized the very recollection of Rhodesia from most people’s minds. A damnatio memoriae via general agreement to not talk about that has obliterated all trace of the noble nation. Will Tanner has a few excellent threads on the subject of Rhodesia on Xitter, see also this one and this one. Invest an hour or so of your attention on his timeline and you’ll learn quite a bit about the subject. Actually, shortly after I wrote that, Will collected his scattered thread thoughts for Substack at his excellent blog
:
Rhodesia may have been the most noble of the British Empire’s colonial experiments. Their wartime president Ian Smith – a Spitfire pilot during WWII – said they were “more British than the British” due to the way they held fast to old British customs. Rhodesia had an extremely selective immigration policy, allowing only for men of proven character, accomplishment, distinction, and ability. They ruled the country like the competent, confident warrior-aristocrats they were, using modern scientific agriculture to establish vast and profitable farming estates that became the breadbasket of Africa. Local Africans found employment on the farms; Africans abroad benefited from the food they produced. While almost none of them could participate in Rhodesia’s politics, because the country’s founding charter specified that only property-holders could vote, the relationship between black man and white was symbiotic and mutually advantageous.
The Rhodesians quickly built an orderly, prosperous paradise over the first few decades of their country’s existence. During this time the men of the country served with the British military, frequently in elite units, and with distinction disproportionate to their number. During World War II it was agreed between the Rhodesian and British governments that in exchange for the former’s contributions to the war, the Crown should give its blessing to Rhodesian independence as a self-governing Dominion similar to Canada, Australia, or New Zealand.
After the war, however, the British government reneged. The socialists decided that it was unseemly that Rhodesia’s constitution effectively barred blacks from voting, since all of the land and therefore voting power was held in the hands of white Rhodesians. The British government insisted that Rhodesian independence required an amended constitution, which would instead mandate majority rule, which after all was much more democratic and much less racist. The Rhodies balked at this. Unlike the comfortable, fashionable leftists in Parliament, the Rhodesians lived in Africa, and understood what Africans were like. Majority rule, they knew with dread certainty, would plunge the country into darkness. The Africans were neolithic horticulturalists who believed in witchcraft. They lacked the conceptual skills necessary to manage a Medieval market town, let alone a modern industrial-agricultural state such as Rhodesia.
Even to articulate such a sentiment was of course unacceptably bigoted to the sensitive liberal ear of that time and all that has followed, but as it always does, the sentiment proved to be entirely accurate.
Diplomatic relations quickly soured between the Rhodesian and British governments, and after years of increasing acrimony Rhodesia declared unilateral independence. This was naturally an unforgivable insult to the honour of dear young Elizabeth the Negligent, and the British state immediately set about getting its revenge on Rhodesia. The new government found itself cut off from trade with almost the entire planet, to the point that only Israel and South Africa continued to maintain normal trading relations. Worse, the British teamed up with the Soviets to fund and train armies of Marxist guerrillas, who were sent into the country to conduct terrorist raids.
The Rhodesians did not give up easily. They fought the Bush War for a decade, desperately outnumbered, and equipped with relatively primitive weaponry. Fortunately for them their Afro-Marxist opponents had only the haziest concept of the effective use of their modern weaponry and generally only hit their targets by accident. One amusing account described how the rifles captured from the Afro-Marxists all had their iron sites turned up to the maximum setting, i.e. 1000 yards or something; this was very puzzling to the Rhodesian soldiers, who questioned captured blacks to try and discern the purpose of this strange practice. It turned out the blacks had no concept of the intended function of iron sights, and had decided that the numbers were gradations of shooting power – turning it up to the maximum setting, they believed, meant that their rifles would shoot harder.
The Rhodesians, by contrast, were expert marksmen, as wall as experienced bushmen in general.
Casualties were usually very lopsided in Rhodesia’s favour. In Operation Dingo, up to three thousand communist terrorists were unalived at a training camp, and thousands more driven away in panic, by a couple hundred paratroopers, only two of whom died, one of them by friendly fire. Here’s a first-hand account.
Dingo wasn’t a one-off, either. In Operation Eland, 84 Rhodesian Selous Scouts took on a base with 5000 ZANLA terrorists, culling over 1000 of them and taking exactly zero losses.
Despite their victories on the battlefield, things got more desperate over time. Bowing to international outrage over Operation Eland (which took the Rhodesians into Mozambique, thereby widening the war beyond their own frontiers), South Africa turned its back. While Israel’s goodwill continued, the moral support of a distant small country was not as important as the material support provided by a huge local neighbour with which it shared a land border, and from whom it had easily been able to get whatever it needed. In the end, short on ammunition and fuel, the Rhodesians were forced to capitulate. The terrorist warlord Robert Mugabe became the local strongman soon after.
The Rhodesians won every battle, yet still lost the war.
Mugabe redistributed the land to blacks who had no idea how to farm; the vast, rich estates the Rhodesians had carefully cultivated fell into barren scrub, and the breadbasket of Africa knew famine. It goes without saying that he unleashed brutality on the country, not only on whites, but on rival tribes. Mugabe also racked up unpayable debts from global finance, and then overclocked the money printer well in excess of factory settings, to the point that every Zimbabwean is a centitrillionaire many times over.
Zimbabwe is the seed pattern for decolonization. Converting Rhodesia into Zimbabwe is the telos of Civil Rights liberalism.
The next to fall was South Africa, which being older, larger, and stronger, struggled to hold onto the far harsher Apartheid system for a decade longer than Rhodesia managed to defend its comparatively mild political framework. Ultimately however the multitribal imperium of Apartheid cracked. Black rule followed, bringing with it everything that beset Zimbabwe. Once a nuclear power with a budding space program, South Africa now struggles to keep the lights on, while its water system fails, its highways crumble, and criminal violence rages through streets the authorities have neither the capacity nor the inclination to control.
Pockets of relative prosperity remain, these being essentially places that retain high concentrations of white people, and this prevents South Africa from falling apart completely as Zimbabwe did. However, participation of whites in the professional and political systems that govern the infrastructure of their country is made deliberately marginal, for example with Black Economic Empowerment laws demanding the hiring of, say, engineers on a census-calibrated quota basis. In South Africa’s case that means one white guy who knows what he’s doing, and 19 blacks who don’t. That one competent man must then do the work of twenty, so it’s no surprise that things don’t get done. A similar approach is taken in their university system, with the result that for every educable white student, there are 19 ineducable blacks, who take the places of young people who might actually be able to learn something, thereby constricting the supply of competent professionals even further. Thus the country falls inexorably to pieces, under the pressure of primitives who treat the white man’s civil society like the telephone wires they rip down to make copper bracelets for their baby mommas.
Incredibly, I’m told by South African friends that a great plurality of South African whites remain committed liberals, that despite all the corruption, discrimination, criminal violence, and dumb incompetence they endure on a daily basis, they continue to believe fervently in the fundamental moral rectitude of the liberal political order that’s slowly destroying them. People who say silly things like, well when things become bad enough, the liberals will see, they will get mugged by reality or whatever, these people should keep the obtuseness of South African liberals in mind. For that matter, just look at the state of Portland or San Francisco, or any of a number of formerly European cities in the northwest of Europe, in which North Africans and Arabs gather in the squares to chant death to the white man. Never underestimate the power of a false morality.
Unfortunately for the Rhodesians, they were more British than the British at the exact time that the British Empire, exhausted and demoralized from its punishing war on Germany, was falling apart. With no empire to be loyal to, the United Empire Loyalists of Upper Canada experienced their own collapse of moral identity around the same time.
Canada’s moral collapse mirrored that of the other British nations, including Britain itself.
Having colluded to slit the neck of their junior sibling Rhodesia as a blood sacrifice to their new DEIty, the British nations are all now complicit in a crime ... but it is only a crime if they were wrong to do so. So long as they were right, so long as the ideals of antiracism are sound, and good, and true, so long as we continue to Imagine that the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Junior’s I Have a Dream has led to anything but a nightmare, so long as this is the case, they committed no crime at all, but rather a holy and regrettably necessary duty, in the end a trifle ... something best not thought of, of no great importance at all, save as a sort of pious gesture.
In the wake of Rhodesia’s murder, everything it stood for came under sustained cultural attack. Rhodesia’s founding ideal was to produce the highest sort of men. Its immigration policy was deliberately eugenic. It sought to take the best of men and women, and breed them, and raise their children fit to be the aristocratic exemplars of a warrior republic. To the modern nose this reeks of fascism or something. Modern man has been conditioned to see the well-justified pride of accomplishment emerging from true nobility as something exclusive, arrogant, and therefore horrible, and instead to embrace Pride in anal polyps and sexually mutilated children.
The Anglo countries are all busily trying to become Zimbabwe as quickly as they can, importing people from around the world as fast as they are able, by means according with the laws the importing governments supposedly administer, and by means outside those laws, for the desired third world flux cannot possibly be justified on any reasonable grounds to their exasperated native electorates ... not that the governments care what their captive peoples think about anything, being accustomed to telling them what to think so that they’ll speak and vote accordingly ... as even now, even in South Africa, many of them in fact continue to do.
As third worlders are packed into the cities of Britain and her colonies, and into the cities of America’s European vassals on the Continent, their share of the vote increases with their numbers. At the same time regulations seeking racial equity push the newcomers disproportionately into positions of influence, disproportionately at least if competence rather than biomass is the deciding factor. This steadily degrades the competence of Western systems of production, distribution, and governance, in turn leading to a gradual decline in everyone’s quality of life. The collapse is, to be sure, not as abrupt as the one Zimbabwe experienced. The third world, because distant, must be piped in to our countries, whereas in Rhodesia it was already present, waiting like water behind a high dam, needing only a large enough crack to wash away everything in the filth-saturated flood.
Importing the third world is not an inevitability. Our countries do not have to become Zimbabwe. They do this consciously, as a matter of careful and deliberate policy. In practice it isn’t so careful as it might be, given that government systems are the most compromised of all by the anti-meritocracy of diversity and decolonization that they force on everyone, but it is relentless and intentional all the same. The devastation of the white man’s civilization, its reduction to ruins through which uncomprehending savages wander without interest or wonder, is their sacred goal. The light behind their eyes is the lights going out.
The plot of a zombie apocalypse movie is not the only way to design an immigration system. Rather than a cistern backing up sewage into the drinking water supply, one might have an aqueduct bringing cold, pure water from the mountain-tops.
Take Tokyo. This is a world city, as cosmopolitan as any, where you can find people from anywhere on the planet. The Japanese do not close their borders to the world, to the contrary they actively recruit and invite people to their country. However, they are careful in this: residency permits are given preferentially to those who hold university degrees, for example, and a clean criminal record is a necessity. Those caught breaking Japanese law are deported and permanently banned. Those who adapt and prosper are allowed to stay. Since the Japanese are fairly selective, the absolute numbers of gaijin are kept low, meaning that the country retains its Japanese character. Citizenship, moreover, is almost impossible to obtain. Gaijin are kept in Tokyo as a luxury item: decorative, useful, and rare.
The Japanese, of course, do not have a national suicide wish, their collapse in fertility notwithstanding. Perhaps they might develop one; there’s some indication that liberal attitudes towards diversity, modelled on those the West has embraced, are spreading within their young population, and indeed the Japanese government has recently been expanding the number of work visas it offers, in order to bring in unskilled labour from the Philippines and other parts of Asia. Perhaps the assassination of Shinzo Abe played a role in the Japanese state’s newfound appreciation for diversity; supposedly Abe was shot by some sort of Japanese nationalist (I forget the details), but it is not crazy to suspect the shadow of the Communist Infiltration Agency over the whole affair. Maybe, decades hence, Tokyo will become the majority-minority metropolis depicted in Hollywood’s Ghost in the Shell. If it does it will probably come to resemble Zimbabwe more than a high-functioning cybernetic paradise; Zimbabwe is, after all, the final goal of the system. But for now at least this is still not the case, and Japan shows a different way of being a part of the world city. There’s no good reason at all that its example could not be emulated throughout the West ... no reason but short-term greed, lust for political power, and the religious fanaticism of those devoted to extinguishing civilization in the name of enlightening it.
What if we had an immigration system with specifically eugenic ends, seeking to acquire the very best of humanity, augmenting the genetics of our own tribes by adding theirs, while stripping those genes out on the statistical tails of talent distributions from other countries around the world? This would almost be a form of genetic warfare, as our own gene pools are enriched with the world’s best bloodlines, while others are steadily deprived of their influence. It’s a foolish daydream, of course. There’s not a country on Earth where such a policy could be openly embraced without furious shrieks from the global AWFLetariat about white supremacy or whatever.
As I said. A foolish daydream.
We have reached a hinge point in the essay, at which I finally begin to discuss events in the United Kingdom. It would be a logical place for a paywall, but instead I will take a moment to tell you about my own foolish daydream, to be able to support myself – and, one hopes, one day perhaps a family – by writing for you. Most writers on Substack put content behind paywalls, in order to motivate their readers to become patrons. I’ve resisted doing this so far, because I want people to read what I write here, and because I have faith in you ... I know that you are good people, that you are willing to step up and support independent writers whose words enrich your lives, that you are at heart spiritual aristocrats, who will support artists not because you benefit personally, but out of noblesse oblige towards the plebeians who enjoy for free the fruits of your generosity.
Or, perhaps, you are a plebeian?
There’s only one way to find out.
And now, back to the show...
In the waking world we actually inhabit, the British government sent in the riot police after the English people of Southport objected in numbers to the brutal knife murders of three beautiful little girls by some sort of Muslim who – the soy assure us – is as Welsh as King Arthur. Sorry, that was misinformation, which led to the wrongful targeting of a mosque. It was not a Muslim at all, but a Rwandan teenager who did it for reasons unknown, and giggled in the courtroom as the charges were read.
This is one of those distinctions without a difference. Tensions are high because the government has been relentlessly packing people from all the worst parts of the world into all of our countries, with various flavours of Muslim being a major ingredient in the stew of shit that’s been cooked up. It’s not like Muslims have their hands clean over the last couple of bloody decades.
The same British government retreated in obsequious disgrace before an angry mob of Muslims rioting to protest abused kids being taken from some migrant family by child protective services. The kids were returned, with apologies. The British state seems to just shrug and retreat whenever the Muslims, or anyone else, riots.
The same British government refused, for decades, to do anything to interrupt the organized, industrial scale rape of working class English girls by Pakistani gangs, most famously in Rotherham, but in truth happening all over the island. All because they didn’t want to be perceived as racist.
The people doing this are simply the enemy.
They should be treated as such.
Think about it.
The government behaves as though British law only applies to white British, while leaving others free to do as they please in the territories it has already ceded to them, the ceding of territory being what mass immigration comes down to after all. The territory was ceded without the people’s permission; to the contrary, the people repeatedly instructed their state to not cede territory, and were ignored and insulted at every turn. Instead, successive governments steadily imported clients as fast as they were able. The clients are then given special privileges, in the form of protected characteristic laws, which helps them with employment and provides them with a social edge in institutional interactions. The clients are also lavished with generous quantities of welfare assistance, paid for by native taxes. Meanwhile the clients are given license to predate upon the native population in every possible way, further enriching and gratifying themselves in the process, while natives are harshly punished for self-protective behaviour, and required to depend upon the protection of a state that has no interest in protecting them.
The closest historical analogy would be a barbarian invasion, as when the Dane and the Northman fell upon the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, or when those tribes themselves pushed the Cymry off of their lands, or when their cousins the Goths and the Vandals carved up the Roman empire. Indeed, in many of those cases the barbarians were initially invited in by the local councils and kings, for instance as mercenaries; later, they invited their kith and kin, and set about making conquest of a land that couldn’t fight for itself.
The English, and the Irish, and all of the other English-speaking colonies, along with all of the NATO vassals, have been subjected to barbarian invasions organized by their own governments, which governments simultaneously place the native populations in the position of helots relative to the new arrivals. This is a mutually beneficial relationship for both state and invader: the latter gets a large part of the loot, but as the state collects the taxes it absorbs by far the majority of what gets extracted; meanwhile, the mere presence of the invaders necessitates a hypertrophy of the state, which must care for and protect them just as it was originally designed to care for and protect the native population. Normally, the people would object to this theft, but the constant terror attacks and violent crime, which the natives are never allowed to respond to, take their emotional toll. Psychological pressure is further applied by the constant reminders to step aside, to make way, to mind your tongue, all of which are microaggressions in a much real sense than the the left use of the term, calculated insults to make you feel unsure of yourself, and small. There are other insults too: every white heroine in a drama paired with a black man, for example, while the only white heroes are gay, and all your favourite characters from novels, comic books, myths, and histories are blacked and browned in abundance.
In order to make sure that whites accept their status as helots, their own state subjects them to sadistic psychological abuse using every dirty trick from the torturer’s handbook, while allowing them to be terrorized by their occupying barbarians.
And it does this while insisting that it loves them.
Make no mistake.
They do not love you.
To the contrary: they hate you.
They are, in actual fact, your enemy. I don’t know what else to tell you; the facts are what they are, their behaviour is what it is. Our states have defected, and are now in effect wealthy proxies of the barbarian clients who prop them up. Morally, they are the government of the barbarians, and not of the Irish, British, or other native white peoples suffering under this globalist regime, all of whom are rather those states’ enslaved captives.
Right now, the ability of the government to keep the whole sick moral scam going is, well, moral. The native people they plunder must continue to believe that their governments truly represent them. This is so because, in most countries, the natives still far outnumber the invaders, though of course under present trajectories this will change rapidly as the century unfolds.
When people stop believing that and really process it, you get what’s been happening in Ireland, which the Irish government would characterize as lawlessness but which is more properly described as a growing fraction of the population withdrawing from their government the moral right to legislate at all. The heroes of the Irish uprising are not trying to break the law’s rule, but to restore it.
Despite months of protests, riots, and arson of migrant facilities, the Irish have not yet succeeded in throwing off the globalist yoke.
But now those Troubles have spread to England. The riots of the English started with a bang, and have already spread and intensified, with new protests popping up all over the country. I wouldn’t recommend anyone attend, I’m sure some of them are traps, for the British police excel at kettling operations; moreover, no mercy is to be expected from an enemy regime.
Things could easily spin out of control. What if one or more of the state’s client groups, probably Muslims of various kinds, shows up at a rally, and a riot breaks out between the protected class and the angry natives? The police would have a hard time retreating from the Muslims while siccing the hounds and the tear gas on the natives. On second thought the police probably wouldn’t have any trouble doing that at all, as the police tend to be controlled by lesbian harridans who DEI’d their ways up the promotional ladder, and whose professional duty it is to hate white males. So, the police might well just openly side with the invaders.
Especially considering that many of the police are invaders.
If the police side with the invaders, that would not be a good look for a state whose moral legitimacy already hangs by a thread in the minds of many. If that thread snaps in enough heads at once, things in the streets could escalate very far, very fast.
And indeed, no sooner did I write that, then we have video of cops taking the side of migrants, telling them that they’re there to support and protect them.
In Stokes, we already have reports of armed Muslim mobs, attacking native Britons, see also here.
The natives are not taking that lying down. In Hull, a car reportedly operated by immigrants was seen driving over people, leading to an angry mob smashing it to scrap, pulling out the occupants, and stabbing them. All reportedly taking place in the context of migrant hotels being burned, shops being looted and burned, and widespread street fighting between English and immigrant (that last link is from a communist, so he may exaggerate).
Check out the Caped Crusader going after the car, I think the same one that got wrecked in Hull.
Deus Vult, motherfuckers.
In Newcastle, what looks like a mob of teenage boys stomped an immigrant into the pavement outside a Turkish barber shop.
When the Irish snapped, I wondered if that might have consequences in other countries, via mimesis. If so, it would only be a matter of time before one of the regime’s saintly clients committed something conspicuously heinous – it is simply something that they predictably do – and another country’s population cooked off. All appearances are that this is exactly what has happened.
The response of the British state will undoubtedly be far harsher than that of the Irish, for the English are capable of quite extraordinary chaos when aroused – just ask continentals who have experienced the ravages of their soccer hooliganism, and now consider that hooliganism as decades of training in the art of no-holds-barred street fighting – while the English state is incomparably older, wealthier, and more cruel than Ireland’s has the heart or resources to be.
‘Two-Tiered Starmer’, as the Prime Minister is being referred to in recognition of his policing policy, has already announced that the police are simply going to redouble their efforts to silence online thought crime, while doing nothing whatsoever about the victimization of the people. Exactly as one would expect an occupying enemy force to behave. My British counterparts, I’ve noticed, have all become extremely circumspect lately, and I can’t help but sympathize because they’re all very likely in the crosshairs of that kind of infowar counterinsurgency campaign. This was apparent already a few days ago, which was why I was happy to post yesterday’s anonymous essay from a concerned Mother of British Children.
If England follows the Irish pattern, the resistance will spread, and it will continue. The government will crack down brutally, but I do not think they will be at all successful in stopping the revolt entirely. However, the English are not going to be able to defeat their government, any more than the Irish did. That is no slight on the prowess of the English rioter; it’s simply that it won’t be decided in England, because the source of the problem is not in England, but rather everywhere.
The state that truly governs us is a network state, built out of the interweaving social connections enabled by international travel and telecommunications, which our various elites have disproportionately enjoyed access to for generations now. They have become, in essence, a tribe of their own, one whose natural homeland is everywhere. They’ve formed various multilateral organizations, a whole ‘non-governmental’ infrastructure ranging from the United Nations to unofficial talk shops like Davos, which acts as a parallel state over which national electorates have no control, which the globalist tribe uses to subjugate their subverted national governments. Many are known to belong to various secret societies, whose totality, one supposes, we might take for the globalist tribe’s religion. In any case, the people talking about forming network states, and I include myself among them from time to time, are all dumb, we are coming to the idea late, figuring out something the elite has been doing for at least a century.
Because of its delocalized nature, this tribe that is slowly killing us won’t be overthrown in any one of our countries alone. If it is decided anywhere, it will be in America, and when it reaches the US it may well be in a form far more severe than mere riots. But even after it spreads to America it seems unlikely that this will be enough to kill globalism. Globalism is a network, a vast web built of social influence and capital flows; like all networks, it is robust against attack, and can continue functioning while soaking up enormous damage.
In any case, it’s probably only a matter of time before rioting in Ireland and England spreads elsewhere, because the conditions are everywhere throughout the West the same. Once one part of the herd rebels against injustice, others lift their heads and take notice. The idea spreads ... sometimes even if the rebels are put down, sometimes even partly because of the way the rebels are put down.
My guess would be that the next country in which the Troubles break out will be somewhere on the Continent. The other English-speaking countries are still far too comfortable. An honoured guest in France, Sweden, or Spain will do something exceptionally awful, because that is what third world savages do, and although it may be no more shocking than many terrors the people have previously endured without looking back in anger, this time they will allow themselves to feel that anger in full, and act on it.
If the Troubles erupt in a third country, they will probably spread rapidly from there to others. As that happens, we will all gradually cease to think of the Troubles as local disturbances, and come to experience it as a global civil war. Given that the people are now as networked as the elite are (something which terrifies them, by the way) it is likely that they will come to see themselves as local partners in a global national liberation movement with a shared global enemy.
For the globalists, this is a nightmare scenario. Two-tiered Starmer is no doubt under immense pressure to crack down, and quickly; the question is whether or not he can really do this. Starmer needs to beat the fight out of the enraged English without inflaming them even further, which is a tough needle to thread. His position is complicated by the simple fact that the British state is a shambolic wreck deliberately staffed by clowns who will probably spend a lot of time tripping over their long floppy feet as they chase after whatever insane tyrannies he orders them to pursue.
So long as they’re just dealing with angry yobs thowing bricks at cops, they can probably handle it, but actions like the Irish have been undertaking – wildcat arson of migrant facilities – are much more difficult to prevent. They don’t need many people to do a lot of damage, and catching the culprits isn’t always possible. One might well imagine more sophisticated forms of sabotage to follow. The bladerunners dismantling the ULEZ cameras in London set an interesting example; what if their principles were to be applied to other forms of infrastructure? Many of the components of the system the regime relies on for control are fragile, and easily destroyed. Understand that I advocate nothing specific, but merely observe very general possibilities. If the English rebels do not limit themselves to rioting, but expand their activities to playful mayhem, to pranking the regime by breaking its toys, the Troubles might grind on for a long time, frustrating the government’s every attempt to tamp them down.
And no sooner than I write that, than the English rebels set a police station on fire.
Meanwhile in Belfast, the Union Jack, the Ulster Loyalist Flag, and the Green, White, and Orange or Ireland were seen on the same side of a protest, which you really need to pause to take in the incongruity of considering that these sides hate one another so much that they maintain separate neighbourhoods so they don’t throw molotovs at each other too often.
The cops told them to disperse, of course, but the insouciant protesters simply ignored the ladycop’s nagging, and continued on in their festivities, dancing and waving their flags as they celebrated peace and brotherhood among the British nations.
Naturally there were counterprotestors, flying the flags of Palestine and Pride and Progress, and of course of Antifa, for everything that is not liberal, but not communism, is necessarily fascism in their eyes. Within twentieth century political theory, they’ve even got a point. There were only ever three political systems.
Just look at that image.
Gay Race Communism, arrayed against the British nations.
Separated only be a fat man in uniform and a woman in drag.
What a beautiful visual metaphor for the political situation. It’s what I was trying to capture in that European city square, where the Palestinians and their fans chanted slogans in the middle, surrounded by progress rainbows dancing off down through the streets in every direction.
If that German kid who confronted me outside the hostel was in Belfast, there’s no doubt but that he’d have been there, and no doubt which side he’d have been on. Maybe even with Antifa, who knows. And no doubt, too, that on the other side, under the British and Irish flags, he would meet a great many brave young lads only too happy to ask him the same question I did, who would love for him to say yes.
Brave, or dumb. Dumb, because the one thing you know for sure about the fat man and the woman in drag is that they’ll turn a blind eye to everything their rabble does, while throwing the book at you with every ounce of strength their flabby arms can muster. Knowing that, showing up where there’s a lot of them is just a bad idea, no matter how personally unintimidating the constituents of the rabble and their individual protectors might be.
I have no idea whether the solidarity between Union Jack and Bratach na hÉireann seen in Belfast is an isolated and ephemeral thing, or if it presages a new consciousness, of brother nations aware of themselves as struggling for liberation against a common foe: the turncoat elite that has placed the nation-states it manages under barbarian occupation in order to subjugate them to their own globally networked tribe. Much depends on this question. It is only in the latter case, with the possibilities for transnational cooperation between the nations that it opens, that the nations can prevail against what are currently, on paper, overwhelming odds.
Two paths are open to us. In one, the path we are on now, native Europeans and British, and their settler populations in the Americas and Australasia, will, over the next century, follow the Rhodesians into extinction. We will be dissuaded from having children in a myriad of ways, ensuring our fertility remains catastrophically below replacement. That alone will thin our numbers dramatically. At the same time, the mass immigration flood will ensure a relentless growth of new arrivals who push aside the existing populations. One wonders if at some point the hogs will simply be slaughtered and served according to the Rwandan fashion, thereby hastening the process of racial replacement. Given global fertility patterns, the feeding nozzles of the global IQ shredder will ultimately converge on Africa as the only viable source of biomass. No doubt the Indians and Chinese who are currently Canada’s prime sources of new biomass, the Hispanics inheriting the United States, and the Arabs and North Africans taking hold of Europe, will object strenuously to this new flood of Africans, but the logic of the system that allowed them to invade in the first place will be quite relentless.
The logic of the Western system is global Zimbabwe. People think that the goal is a prison planet controlled by AIs on behalf of the central banker effendis, but that ambition is unlikely to be realized by a system that is making itself incompetent as fast as it can, in thrall to an ideology that demands the steady dilution of human capital. The only possible end is a planet filled exclusively with Africans, at which point the lights will go out and the dieback will begin as Africans prove incapable of maintaining any of the infrastructure that feeds them. This would leave behind nothing anywhere on Earth but small cannibal tribes composed exclusively of humanity’s most cognitively primitive subspecies. Tens of thousands of years separate African and Eurasian neurological development. Geological stretches of time would have to elapse for the necessary socioneurological advancements for sophisticated technological civilizations to re-evolve. Assuming they ever did re-evolve, because the tribes will all have been deeply memetically programmed with beliefs completely inimical to civilization, which they will carry on as baleful superstitions into the indefinite future. That memetic programming might not simply prevent higher types of men from emerging at all, but could even send the species’ trajectory nosediving away from higher intelligence, such that after a few hundred thousand years humanity is indistinguishable from the higher primates. It would take another aeon for man, or something descended from man, for whom man is not even a memory, to once again reach for the stars.
The first path, in which we do nothing, or do something and still lose, looks a lot like a possible Great Filter scenario: the total destruction not just of European man, but of all human civilization, via the ruthless elimination, sustained over multiple generation, of the degenerating flower of the species from the gene pool, until even the possibility of civilization in the deep future is precluded.
The other path is the one where we fight, and win. That is currently an extremely low-probability outcome, because the enemy has effectively all of the formal power, and we are currently working mainly with moxy and spite. Winning is going to take time, probably lots of it; the struggle may continue for decades. It is going to take fighting spirit. It is going to take vast amounts of creativity, insight, ingenuity, and cunning.
But for victory to be possible at all, it will require a revaluation of values in men’s hearts. Not only a withdrawal of loyalty to the states that abuse them, but a reconsideration of the very moral basis of those states. Men must look at what happened to Rhodesia, and feel not smug satisfaction that the racists got what was coming to them, but an ache of loss for something noble and beautiful that was senselessly ruined, followed by wrath at those who sacrificed it on the altar of their own sick perversions. Men must be willing to admit that, just as there are individual higher and lower people, there are higher and lower peoples, and they must be willing to say that this is a good thing; they must understand that it is man’s purpose to always favour the higher, in every sense of that term, in order that man may serve as God’s hands guiding the upward development of life.
I do not think that the forces of entropy will win. I think that there is a great, unrealized will permeating the Earth, that the dream of conquering the stars is too strong, that it demands to be expressed, that it demands a civilization in which it can be expressed, and everything that follows logically from that. The stars themselves are too far away, of course, to be reached with our current capabilities. But there is a much closer substitute, a first step, that is almost within our grasp.
It is perhaps fortuitous, and perhaps more than an accident, that in our times the dream of space colonization is gathered under the banner of the planet consecrated to the God of War, for the dream will have to go to war to realize itself against the grim alternative. It is a temporal war, one possible future locked in existential struggle with another; the Heavens, at war with Hell itself.
Events are moving rapidly, now. Decades unfolding in days. Mere weeks ago a whisker’s width came between the skull of America’s champion and death by an assassin’s bullet. It felt like the timeline shifted course at that moment, that by fortune or by providence we navigated an exceedingly narrow path through probability space, when by all rights we should have toppled into the abyss, and as a result we are now on an entirely different trajectory. The future is more open than it has been in many years. Events are fluid. Possibilities open before us.
But we are not out of the woods yet.
If we want to win, we still have to
Thank you for coming to my incendiary, bomb-throwing, stream-of-consciousness polemic. I hope you found the investment of your irreplaceable attention to be worthwhile.
As always, my endless gratitude to all of my patrons, who make it possible for me to make a living, sort of, by writing for you. I am amazed and humbled by this generosity every day.
If you would like to see me further humbled and amazed, all you need to do is
For those of you who are coming to Postcards From Barsoom for the first time, assuming that I have not already exhausted you, you may find my collection of last year’s writing below, where I range across psychological warfare, neurology, the gender divide, virtual reality, artificial intelligence, the nature of consciousness, UAPs, anti-white discrimination in hiring and university admissions, depopulation, Elon Musk, and the DIEing Academy, among others:
Moxie and spite will be insufficient against the institutional power of the enemy. The left has captured the means of cultural production; School, media, entertainment, all institutions, human resources departments, and do you know what this portends? It means that when you fight, when you take the plunge, the enemy you fight will be your own children. Checkmate : they win, it wins.
Mao understood this.
Dear author I once asked you why you write under a pseudonym. Now I understand. That was brilliant, heterodox, and dangerous. This author speaks for me.
Made me think of this again:
The most terrifying force of death, comes from the hands of "Men who wanted to be left Alone".
They try, so very hard, to mind their own business and provide for themselves and those they love.
They resist every impulse to fight back, knowing the forced and permanent change of life that will come from it.
They know, that the moment they fight back, the lives as they have lived them, are over.
The moment the "Men who wanted to be left Alone" are forced to fight back, it is a small form of suicide. They are literally killing off who they used to be. . . .
Which is why, when forced to take up violence, these "Men who wanted to be left Alone", fight with unholy vengeance against those who murdered their former lives. They fight with raw hate, and a drive that cannot be fathomed by those who are merely play-acting at politics and terror. TRUE TERROR will arrive at the Left's door, and they will cry, scream, and beg for mercy . . . . but it will fall upon deaf ears.