Moreover, there are Germans, such as Hermann Rauschning, the author of the book Hitler Told Me, who withdrew from the Movement as soon as they realised the pagan character of Hitler’s worldview. And it should be noted that they only realised this when they had gained the Führer’s trust sufficiently for him to admit them into his small circle of insiders or partially insiders.
For there was a difference between the teaching given to the people in general and that received by the disciples: a difference not of content but of clarity. For example, Point 24 of the famous Twenty-Five Points specifies that the Party, while proclaiming the widest religious tolerance, holds to a ‘positive Christianity’—in other words, to what is positive, i.e., true per tradition in historical Christianity—but that it fights any religion or philosophy that ‘endanger its existence or oppose the moral senses of the Germanic race.’
It omits (no doubt on purpose) to point out that any religion which turns its back on the realities of this world and in particular on biological realities—to the extent of permitting the marriage of people of different races provided they are members of the same church—is a danger in the National Socialist State.
In Mein Kampf, the Führer denies that he is in the least aiming at religious reform. ‘It is criminal,’ he writes, ‘to attempt to destroy the faith accepted by the people, as long as there is nothing to replace it.’ He writes further that the mission of the National Socialist Movement ‘doesn’t consist of religious reform but the political reorganisation of the German people.’
But what he doesn’t write—what he couldn’t write in a book intended for the great mass of a people Christianised since the 9th century—is that any regime based, as the National Socialist regime was, on the denial of the intrinsic worth of every man, is the antithesis of a Christian social order. What Adolf Hitler couldn’t tell the masses was that any political regime based on a doctrine centred on Life and its eternal laws necessarily has a more-than-political significance. On the voice of the great mass depended his success, for we must not forget that he reached power legally and democratically.
This more-than-political significance of Hitlerism was fully understood only by the Führer himself and the National Socialist elite in Germany: the initiates and best pupils of the Ordensburgen (castles/fortresses of military orders) where the members of the SS were trained. The mass of the people didn’t feel it, and would have been quite surprised if someone had shown them the implications; for example, Christianity and Hitlerism are two different and incompatible paths to the eternal and the same person cannot follow both but must choose.
Outside Germany—and outside India, of Aryan tradition—a thinking elite loved, feared or hated Hitlerism because of its true nature. The Jewish elite cursed it for reasons deeper than the age-old hostility between Israel and the Germanic world. The enormous human masses in all countries—indifferent to politics—feared it without knowing exactly why. In reality, they hated it because they vaguely felt in it the negation of all anthropocentrism, the ‘wisdom of starry space’ as I have called it as opposed to the ‘love of man’ and the concern for his happiness in this world or any other.
 ‘We demand freedom of religion for all religious denominations within the state so long as they do not endanger its existence or oppose the moral senses of the Germanic race. The Party as such advocates the standpoint of a positive Christianity without binding itself confessionally to any one denomination. It combats the Jewish-materialistic spirit within and around us, and is convinced that a lasting recovery of our nation can only succeed from within on the framework: common utility precedes individual utility.’
 Mein Kampf German edition 1935, pages 293-294.
 Ibid, p. 379.