I have written about the Mexican-Jewish intellectual Enrique Krauze both in The Occidental Observer and on this site. But I have never quoted him at length and would like to do so now, although I will have to translate one of his articles into English (the article in Spanish can be read here). Originally published in the newspaper Reforma on 25 September 2016, the following text is an excerpt from Krauze’s speech delivered that same month when he received an award from the Congress of the state of Guerrero:
The good shadow of Morelos
Guerrero is an open wound in the feelings of our nation.
Already in the first sentence, Krauze omits to talk about the Afro-mestizo population on the Mexican coast of Guerrero: the ethnic reality behind the violence that has afflicted that state for a long time. As a topic, race and IQ is as taboo in Latin America as it is in the United States, Canada, Europe and Australia (see the latest article by Ron Unz and Mike Whitney on the ferocity of this taboo). Krauze continues:
The incuriousness of the governments condemned this state to a condition that only now, in the 21st century, can we see in all its drama. Guerrero shows the cruel face of abandonment: crime, drugs, poverty, malnutrition, emigration, social disintegration, discord. How to reverse the situation?
I do not, of course, have the magic wand, nor do I believe it exists. And I am not naïve. I know the numbers and I have seen the Dantesque crime scenes in Guerrero. I know that blood calls for blood. Nor am I unaware that today’s violence is not linked to ideas or ideals (as in Independence and the revolution) but to vast, dark, despicable economic interests, and that it is expressed day after day, with unprecedented cruelty, in the streets, the squares, the roads, the beaches of Guerrero.
But we cannot be satisfied with this terrible reality being permanent. If the country turns southwards to reach out to the wagon left behind, it may not be too late to move closer to the essential fraternity envisioned by Morelos in the ‘Sentimientos de la Nación’ (Sentiments of the Nation). Luis González y González called that document ‘the moral primer of Mexico.’ It was read here, in this church in Chilpancingo, 203 years ago. Let us listen to his words, each one, in all their gravity: ‘I want us to make the declaration that there is no other nobility than that of virtue, knowledge, patriotism and charity; that we are all equal…’
The emphasis in bold above and below is mine. It is at this point that the strength of The West’s Darkest Hour comes into full view, especially if we consider a PDF abridgement of Tom Holland’s book on how Christian morality infected, to the marrow, the soul of the West. Krauze’s hero, Morelos, waged the war of independence against Spain. He is considered the most important leader of the second stage of the Mexican War of Independence. Morelos’ ideas of equality were rooted in liberal ideas which are ultimately Christian-inspired (those who haven’t read the excerpts from Holland’s book should read them now). Let’s continue reading Krauze’s quote from the document by Morelos:
‘…for from the same origin we come; that there be no privileges or ancient lineages, that it is not rational, nor humane that there should be slaves, for the colour of the face does not change that of the heart nor that of the thought; that the children of the husbandman and the sweeper be educated as those of the richest landowner; that all who complain for justice have a court to hear them, protect them and defend them against the strong and the arbitrary… let it be declared that what is ours is already ours and for our children, let them have a faith, a cause and a flag, under which we all swear to die, rather than see it oppressed, as it is now, and when it is free, let us be ready to defend it.’ [end of Morelos’ quote]
Morelos—let it be noted—was not moved by hatred. Nor was he driven by intolerance, ideological fanaticism or a thirst for revenge.
This is false. Morelos killed many Iberian white civilians, even entire families, during his war of independence. The American equivalent would have been for a mulatto to order the killing of a good many English families during the American Revolutionary War: something that didn’t happen. Krauze’s eulogy follows:
Morelos was driven by love, but not romantic, mystical or abstract love. He was moved by fraternal, egalitarian, free love, and love that is reflected in practical works. In the middle of Tierra Caliente (one of the scenes of today’s horror) that modest parish priest built the church of his parish with his own hands, helped the needy and even recreated, in his letters, the dreams and fantasies of his parishioners. But that same priest (merciful, active, humble, sympathetic) conceived, organised and sheltered—in times of war and in that same area—the promulgation of a Constitution that would be the mould of Mexico that never quite came to fruition: a liberal and democratic republic.
Those ‘Sentiments of the Nation’ are those of today: the ancient moral philosophy of Christian equality and natural liberty which—in the lucid analysis of Don Silvio Zavala—founded Mexico. We must consolidate the modern republican institutions founded and respected by Morelos.
But there is one more sentiment that is not only current but urgent: that of a sovereign country. To our problems, we must add the threat of an economic and diplomatic war of enormous proportions, provoked by the United States if Trump (that despicable tyrant candidate) becomes president. That is why we must reclaim our love for our homeland. But—once again—I am not talking about an operatic love that is reduced to singing the national anthem, shouting ‘viva Mexico’ or waving our flag. I am talking about defending, with all the diplomatic, legal, political, economic and media resources at our disposal, the millions of Mexicans at home and abroad who could suffer the consequences of this unjust war.
If those men who surrounded Morelos did not falter in his hostile and merciless time, it is cowardly for us Mexicans of the 21st century to falter, given to discouragement or cynical selfishness. We live, wrote Luis González, under ‘the good shadow of Morelos.’ Let us be worthy of it.
In another of his Reforma articles, Krauze lets us know: ‘Every Friday, at twilight, my maternal grandmother sanctified the coming of Saturday; she lit her candles…’ However, one of the reasons I don’t inhabit the white nationalist Judeo-reductionist paradigm is that, if you listen to Mexican intellectuals who aren’t ethnically Jewish, they say the same thing Krauze says above about Morelos. And I mean both mestizos and ‘Mexican Criollos’ (those born in Latin America but of European origin, without Jewish blood). In today’s Mexico all mestizo, Criollo and Jewish intellectuals subscribe to the official story about Morelos (the exception was a great Mexican intellectual, José Vasconcelos, but he died in 1959).