There is no worse enemy of the beauty of the world than the unlimited proliferation of man. There is no worse enemy of the quality of man himself than this proliferation: it cannot be repeated too often that a choice must be made between ‘quantity’ and ‘quality.’
The history of our cycle is, like that of any cycle, the history of an indefinitely prolonged struggle between quality and quantity, until the victory of the latter: a complete victory, but a very short one since it necessarily coincides with the end of the cycle and the coming of the Avenger, whom I have called by his Sanskrit name: Kalki.
If I say that the heroic but practically useless attempt at recovery represented by Hitlerism is the last, it is because I know of no force in the present world able to stop universal decadence. Despite all the power and prestige at his disposal, Adolf Hitler was unable to create—recreate—the conditions that were and remain essential for the blossoming of a Golden Age. He could neither suppress technology nor reduce the number of people in the world to anything like one-thousandth of what it is today; that is, practically to what it was during the centuries before our Dark Age.
It is possible and even probable that, victorious, he would have tried to do so, gradually. But his victory would have had to be complete and not only on a European but on a world scale, and there would have been no power on earth to rival his and to thwart his work. But then he would have been Kalki Himself, and we would now be living at the dawn of a new cycle. He needed technology, and at least a growing German population, to carry out his fight against the tide of time under the present conditions.
The next time it won’t be giants or demigods but miserable dwarfs who will suffer the inevitable destruction: billions of dwarves, banal in their ugliness, without character, who will disappear before the Avenger: like an anthill destroyed by a lava flow.
In any case, whether or not we survive the painful childbirth of the new cycle, we won’t be among these dwarfs. The ordeal of 1945 and especially of the post-war years—seductive prosperity—will have made us, the few, what we are and what we remain. And in the roar of unleashed power that will mark the end of all that we so cordially despise, we shall greet with a shiver of ecstasy the Voice of divine revenge, whose triumph will be ours even if we must perish.