A Will To Failure

[From an old essay of mine, The Struggle That Dare Not Speak Its Name. - HAC]

But our reluctance to face up to the reality of armed struggle's pivotal role in social and political change goes beyond these immediately apparent causes. It reaches into the deep-rooted psychological malaise which has pervaded the entire White racial resistance movement thoughout the Western world since 1945.

This psychological and spiritual condition is difficult to quantify. The late Dr. Revilo Oliver once posed the famous question: "Have we, the men of the West, lost the will to live?" Down through the years I have often observed that the White man in America seems to be in the grip of a kind of collective death wish, a mysterious and inexplicable will to failure.

I am by no means the first to notice this phenomenon. One of the best
articles the late Bob Miles ever wrote was in the aftermath of the Fort Smith sedition trials of 1988, when he pointed out in his "From the Mountain" newsletter that the acquittals in that despicable charade, instead of heartening us and encouraging more activism, resulted in an avalanche of sullen defeatism, smears, carping and dog-in-the-manger petty bickering throughout the Movement.

Bob pointed out something which is crucial to understanding why we have gotten virtually nowhere for the past two generations. Over and above the preponderance of outright fraudulent leadership who are in it for the money, the Movement has been controlled for years by elements who are deeply pessimistic, defeatist, lazy, lethargic and mired in profound depression over Aryan man's terrible present situation and our more terrible prospects for the future. We are an army of Eeyores.

It's difficult to assign a precise point where the rot set in; the murder of Commander Rockwell will do for a benchmark, but the fact remains that for almost three decades the bulk of the White right in North America has been led by men who are simply going through the motions.

To be sure, sometimes they have gone through the motions with a certain style and panache. Yet with one or two shining exceptions, such as the saga of The Order, the multifarious attempts at White resistance which have occurred over the past thirty years have always had a dark, sinister leitmotif underlying them; the acidly poisonous idea that victory isn't really possible, that the White man is essentially doomed to extinction through his own stupidity, and that the most any of us can really do is to draw the funeral ceremonies and the eulogies out as long as we can, before getting on with the business of dying.

When this attitude is taken into consideration, the reluctance seriously to discuss, much less to adopt, the one operational strategy 100 percent guaranteed to catapult us into serious politics in double-quick time becomes comprehensible. Why risk one's life, health and liberty on what is essentially an interesting but ultimately futile hobby? For that is exactly how most so-called "leaders" among us regard the whole exercise in which they are engaged.