Adolf Hitler Art Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book)


‘Above all, he [Hitler] lived for all the satisfactions that art in all its forms could give him; art that he placed so high that he didn’t admit that a man who was insensitive to it should ever take over the leadership of a National Socialist state.’ —Savitri Devi

Mein Kampf (book) Pedagogy Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book)

Against compulsory education

It’s curious, but these days I have been thinking that what was missing for my worldview to be complete was a critique of the traditional pedagogical system (which, by the way, contributed greatly to destroying my adolescent life). And today, in the same chapter of the Heydrich quote I posted yesterday, I come across this passage from Savitri Devi:

The absolute rejection of ‘free and compulsory’ education—the same for all—is another of the main features that bring the society that Adolf Hitler dreamed of establishing, and already that of the Third Reich itself, closer to the traditional societies of the past. Already in Mein Kampf the idea of identical education for young men and women is rejected with the utmost rigour.

It isn’t possible to give the same education to young people whom Nature has destined to different and complementary functions. Similarly, one cannot teach the same things, and in the same spirit, even to young people of the same sex who, later on, will have to engage in unrelated activities. To do so would be to burden their memory with a heap of information which they, for the most part, have no use for while, at the same time, depriving them of valuable knowledge and neglecting the formation of their character.

Later on, Savitri continues:

Hitler considered the superficial study of foreign languages and the sciences to be particularly useless for the great majority of the sons (and even more so for the daughters) of the folk… But there is more, and much more. In a European society dominated by its Germanic elite, such as the Führer would have rebuilt it (if he had been able), education, culture and even more the practical probability of advanced spiritual development, had to regain the secret character—properly initiatory—which they had had in the most remote antiquity, among the Aryan peoples and others: the Germans of the Bronze Age as well as in the Egypt of the Pharaohs, and India. They were to be reserved for the privileged.

And finally:

The secrecy of all science in the future Hitlerian civilisation and the efforts already made under the Third Reich to limit, as far as possible, the misdeeds of general education—that ‘most corrosive poison’ of liberalism—evoke the curse that, thousands of years ago and in all traditional societies, was aimed at all those who would have divulged, especially to people of impure blood, the knowledge which the priests had given to them.

Can you see why the science educators who used TV for the masses, Bronowski and Sagan, were wrong on this point?

Amerindians Heinrich Himmler Reinhard Heydrich Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Transvaluation of all values United States

Reinhard Heydrich

The following is one of the passages I reviewed today from the translation of Savitri Devi’s book. It clearly shows what the transvaluation of values is:

One can compare the action of the Einsatzgruppen against the Jews in Germany and in the countries occupied by the armies of the Third Reich with that of the Einsatzgruppen in the Eastern territories.

In both cases, according to the instructions given by Reinhard Heydrich in May 1941 to the leaders of the latter, the aim was to ‘mercilessly destroy all past, present and future opposition to National Socialism’ that is, to eliminate as many actual or potential enemies of the new Germanic faith and Empire as possible. In both cases, the action revealed a scale of values in complete opposition to all anthropocentrism or a scale of values completely devoid of hypocrisy. War is in itself the negation of any anthropocentric faith or philosophy—especially war between men of different races and civilisations, some of whom regard the habitat of others as necessary, or favourable, to their development.

Himmler remarked that the Anglo-Saxon pioneers in North America had ‘exterminated the Indians and only wanted to live on their native land.’ And the fiercest anti-Hitlerites are forced to admit that he was right, and that there is no ‘respect for the human person’ in the attitude of the founders of the US towards the real Americans. It is all too easy, after the fact, when you have installed your democracy over the entire surface of a continent practically emptied of its inhabitants, whose race you have destroyed in the most cowardly way by alcohol, it is easy then, I say, to proclaim that the age of violence is over; to forbid others to carve out a ‘living space’ for themselves as you have carved out one for yourself and, should their effort end in failure, to bring them before a parody ‘International Tribunal’ as ‘criminals against humanity.’

Genuine spirituality Germany National Socialism Savitri Devi

The Secret Fire

‘He did not say anything to them without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own
disciples, he explained everything.’ (Mark 4:34)

In my entry last Tuesday, I had said that I wouldn’t post anything for the rest of the year, but a thought came to me that urgently needs to be communicated:

Is National Socialism dead, insofar as American neonazism is a caricature of it—see my book Daybreak? It’s disturbing that, after my Tuesday post, I have received no feedback from the Germans who visit this site (except for one German who has been contacting me for years, other Germans haven’t done so). Isn’t it a scandal that someone on the other side of the Atlantic, who isn’t even a pure Aryan (me), carries on his shoulders the mission to resurrect the core of NS (which can only be understood with the Führer’s after-dinner talks)? Mein Kampf, a book for the masses of mostly Christian Germans, hardly criticises Christianity and does so, between the lines, until the second volume.

The literary side of National Socialism had two facets. An exoteric one: the long-winded Mein Kampf and an enormous number of inspirational and illustrated pamphlets. And an esoteric one: not only Hitler’s table talks but what laconically he confessed to his inner circle of co-religionists, so well portrayed by Richard Weikart in Hitler’s Religion. Since those who read no more than Mein Kampf are unaware of the more esoteric aspect of Hitlerism, which was taught formally in Himmler’s castles for the SS, they are under the impression that Hitler’s ideology is similar to American white nationalism.

Nothing could be further from the truth! But I don’t want to go into detail on what has already been said in the first five books of the featured post. Rather, I’m writing this article because I don’t see the core of NS anywhere: neither in Europe nor on the continent where I live. The reason for this, of course, is that the esoteric side was anti-Christian, as the Christian Weikart demonstrated in his book. It had to be hidden from the masses of Germans! However, since we are already living in the darkest hour for the white race, the time has come to reveal the Secret Fire, the esoteric facet, to every Aryan male who wants to do something for his race.

In The Fellowship of the Ring, Gandalf
invoked the ‘Secret Fire’ at Khazad-dum.
It’s nowhere else referred to in the
trilogy, so its particular meaning
remains unclear.

That’s why the second book on the list in the featured post will be Savitri Devi’s, since she understood the esoteric side of NS perfectly (and unlike the anti-Nazi Weikart, Savitri was, to use the title of a biographical book about her, Hitler’s priestess).

I confess that in our translation of Souvenirs et Réflexions d’une Aryenne I am eliminating all her very long sentences, shortening them into much shorter sentences. Reason: Savitri made countless parentheses within parentheses throughout her book written in her native French by merely using commas, and the train of her thought is lost in most of her sentences. Mine won’t be a literal translation and once finished—yes: it’s taking a long time—it will be a perfectly understandable text.

Souvenirs et Réflexions d’une Aryenne is the only post-1945, didactic introduction to the core of NS that conveys, with due numinousness, the new religion for the Aryan man that is to conquer the world. (Her best-known work, The Lightning and the Sun published seventeen years before, has the defect of being an immature work. It opens with a couple of chapters that function as an anti-rhetorical barrier for us: the idealisation of Genghis Khan and Akhnaton.)

Perhaps it’s an excess to say that NS is dead if, at least, it survives in a couple of minds, like mine. But it is alarming that so far only one German has corresponded with me on the subject. Perhaps there are other Aryans, even outside Germany, who in the privacy of their hearts keep the Secret Fire alive. Do they have a code of secrecy and that’s why they have failed to contact me?

Whatever the answer, I wonder if there is anyone on the planet willing to raise, at least, one Aryan boy and one Aryan girl and educate them strictly in NS, with all that such an education would entail. If there is anyone who harbours this fantasy please contact me (my email is in the single reply to my featured post). In case NS is already dead in Germany—that there is no such secret society of NS men—the Secret Fire must be revived, at least, in a couple of young Aryans…

Americanism Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) United States

On ‘the pursuit of happiness’

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness: these are among the unalienable rights of all people, according the American Declaration of Independence. This historic document goes on to state, that to ensure these rights, governments are instituted among men. In the Americanised West, this sacred ‘pursuit of happiness’ has been pretty much left to the economic marketplace.

On Sundays I will be going through revising the syntax of the translation of some chapters of Savitri Devi’s book for the print version, and today I came across this passage in the first one:

Any society, any ‘civilisation’ that proceeds from the same aspiration for human well-being above all else, for ‘happiness’ at any price, is marked by the seal of the Powers Below, enemies of the cosmic order in the endless play of forces. It is a civilisation of the Dark Age. If you are obliged to suffer it, suffer it by unceasingly opposing it, denouncing it, and combating it every minute of your life. Make it your glory in hastening its end—at least to cooperate with all your might in the natural action of the forces leading to its end. For it is accursed. It is organised ugliness and meanness.

Pace Richard Spencer, America delenda est.

Carl Gustav Jung Extermination of the Neanderthals Mauricio (commenter) Savitri Devi William Pierce

Pallas Athena

Mauricio’s words yesterday, that he will echo Savitri’s:

… call with a resounding prayer worthy of the 4 words:
Death to America! Death to China! Death to Russia! Death to all nations!
Death to all the Subhuman Scum of this world!
May the Great Suffering come in our lifetimes!
May it bring the End of this long Cycle of Unnecessary Suffering!
May it bring the Beginning of a new Cycle of Necessary Struggle!

—remind me that Jung said that the ultimate archetypal symbol for wisdom was represented by goddesses like Pallas Athena. How is it? Let’s compare for a moment the best post-1945 racialist thinkers, Savitri and William Pierce.

While it is true that Pierce reached the highest heights a pro-Aryan could reach with Who We Are and The Turner Diaries, he failed to say in a non-fiction book that the vision of his Diaries, where billions are exterminated in a race war, is the noblest goal we can imagine as long as the surviving Aryans live up to the 4 words (‘eliminate all unnecessary suffering’).

Never forget the measures the Third Reich took against cruelty to animals! It is key information why the ultimate symbol of wisdom has to be represented by a compassionate woman, like Pallas Athena / Savitri Devi, in the darkest hour for the fair race that began in 1945.

Extermination of the Neanderthals Kalki Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book)

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 103

When will the inevitable Avenger come? He who will restore order, and put ‘every being in its place’? Is it my devotion to him that makes me—and has always made me—so fond of all the Forces that dominate from on high and seem to want to crush this insolent worm that is man?

Is he, in particular, who, in April 1947, made me greet the sight (and the subterranean roar!) of the Hekla in full eruption as one greets the divinities in the temples in India, and, in an ecstasy of joy, intone in Bengali the hymn to Shiva: ‘Dancer of Destruction, O King of the Dance’?

Was it he who urged me to walk all night along one of the seven lava flows, under a pale violet sky, flooded with moonlight, streaked with green aurora borealis fringed with purple, barred by a long black cloud of volcanic smoke—a sky against which the craters (there were several) hurled their jets of flame and their incandescent quarters of rock?

Was it he who, in the uninterrupted roar, bursting from the bowels of the trembling earth and sometimes bursting into sudden mouths of fire, made me recognise the sacred Syllable Aum: the very one which I had heard, and was to hear ever since, with adoration, coming out of the mouths of lions?

Was it the more or less obscure consciousness that they were themselves of the race of the One who returns from age to age and, like Him, defenders of the beauty of the Earth—the Avengers of the Strong against all anthropocentric and therefore egalitarian superstitions, and in particular against Christianity, then newly imposed on the proud Germanic people?

Was it this conscience, I say, that prompted the Vikings of Jütland, my mother’s ancestors, to sing their hymns to Donner and Thor alone in the middle of the fog, on the raging North Sea, joyous to hear, in the rolls of thunder, the answer of the Gods?

Perhaps. What is certain is that I have always been for untamed Nature, against man: for the lion and the tiger, against the hunter, sometimes very ugly and, in any case, however beautiful he may be, less beautiful than them, who live on the fringes of world decadence. What is certain, too, is that I have always been for the superior man, the strong, the conqueror (unless, like the European invaders of the New World [1] he uses his strength to spread some levelling doctrine, justifying all miscegenation), against the pacifist, benumbed in his pleasures; against the haircutter in four; and against the ‘scientist’, working ‘for humanity’ at the expense of innocent beasts; always been for the SS, against the Jew, and his servants more contemptible than himself.

Almost forty years ago I came to the Indies, seeking (for want of a better word) the tropical equivalent of Aryan and pagan Europe—of that Ancient World, where enlightened tolerance reigned, and the cult of the Beautiful drawing its very essence from the True. I have come and remained there; I have left and returned, always as a disciple of Adolf Hitler, the modern Face of He Who Returns; always animated by the spirit of the ‘fight against Time’ which he embodies, with all his glorious predecessors, and with Kalki, the Victor who must one day succeed him, and succeed them.

Now that there’s nothing else to do, my comrades, live with me in ardent anticipation of the end of this humanity, which has rejected us and our Führer. Mankind isn’t worth saving. May it go to all the devils, buried under the ruins of its hospitals, its laboratories, its slaughterhouses and its ‘nightclubs’! I quote to you the verses that Leconte de Lisle addresses to the Virgin Forest, burned, uprooted, shredded by man:

Tears and blood will sprinkle your ashes,
And you will spring from ours, O Forest!

These are words of anticipated joy for me.

I also remind you of the words of Goebbels at the time of the collapse of this Reich, for which we lived: ‘After the deluge: us!’

All that remains is to wish, to call with all our might ‘the Deluge’—the End, to make ourselves personally responsible for its coming, wishing for it day and night.

I would desire it, I would call for it, even if I were persuaded that none of us—including myself, of course; including those whom I most admire and love—would survive it. The world is too ugly, without its true Gods—without the sense of the sacred in life—for the Strong not to yearn for its end.

My comrades: join me, and let us echo with Wotan the Song of the End:

Eins will ich: das Ende; das Ende!

The world without humans is far and away preferable to the world in which no human elite will rule anymore. The lion’s roar will again be heard everywhere, in the course of the nights, under the moonlit sky, or dark and full of stars. And again the living will tremble before a King worthy of them.

Savitri Devi Mukherji


[1] With the spread of Christianity miscegenation took, in Latin America especially, an unprecedented extension.

Extermination of the Neanderthals Kalki Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book) Third Reich West's darkest hour

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 102

Perhaps the last great collective Aryan creation in the West was that of the German Third Reich, with the architects of the new Chancellery and the Nuremberg Stadium; the sculptors Arno Brecker and Kolbe, and the interpreters of Wagner—in particular, the extraordinary conductor Fürtwangler. It was the result of a prodigious upsurge of the whole of Germany, under the inspiration of the supreme artist, Adolf Hitler, against the tide of world decadence. This momentum was abruptly interrupted, after only six years, by England’s declaration of war on Germany, immediately followed by the familiar coalition of hatred, under the overt or subtle leadership of the Jews.


______ 卐 ______


Editor’s note: This is where Savitri and many white nationalists fail, in that the leadership actually came from the American ethno-traitors (see what I said yesterday about John Mearsheimer). That doesn’t mean that Jewry is non-guilty. It means that Jewry was always a minor player compared to the anti-German initiative of the Anglo-Americans. (The best metaphor I can think of is a poison in which the active ingredient is provided by the ethno-traitors, and the catalyst that accelerates that poison by the Jews.)


______ 卐 ______


Everything that the non-German West has produced recently that is truly great—in France, for example, the work of a Robert Brasillach, a Henry de Montherlant, a Céline, a Benoît-Méchin, a Saint-Loup—has been, in one way or another, affected by the spirit of the Reich. There is, moreover, from one end to the other, a deep pessimism like a prescience of the inevitable death or the ‘decline of the West’ already announced by Spengler.

And the East is no better. It lives on its traditional wisdom; it performs its immutable rites and quotes its sacred scriptures whose content is older than prehistory since it is truth itself—non-human truth. But it doesn’t seem to have the strength to draw from it anything to regenerate from top to bottom. (It is, I remind you, a Hindu minority, as well as a European one, and a minority without political influence, alas, that has understood what eternal link exists between Hitlerism and the Doctrine of violent action in absolute detachment, as preached by Lord Krishna to the Aryan warrior Arjuna, in the Bhagawad-Gita).

I have, on the other hand, now, in 1971, found in India more echoes than ever of the expression of my passionate expectation of the Kalki avatar, and the end of the Dark Age. Others await it as I do, and they too don’t feel that there is anything to deplore at the thought of the end of man—except for those few whom the last divine Incarnation will welcome as collaborators, deeming them worthy to open with Him the Golden Age of the next Cycle.

There is no reason to be saddened by the idea that the innumerable ugliness that we see spreading everywhere, on every continent, will one day be definitively swept away along with those who have produced them, encouraged or tolerated them, and who continue to produce new ones.

There is no need to be saddened by the fear that the old and beautiful human creations—the Pyramids of Giza, the Parthenon, the temples of South India, Ellora, Angkor, Chartres Cathedral—may well be swept away along with them, in the colossal fury of the End.

The ugliness that man has accumulated, the desecrations of the Earth of which even the best races have been guilty in this century of universal decay, neutralise by far all that the genius of the Ancients has produced that is greatest and most beautiful. They make us forget the winged bulls of Babylon and Assyria, the friezes of the Greek temples and the Byzantine mosaics, and tip the scales in favour of the disappearance of the human species.

Moreover, eternal works no longer belong in today’s world. We don’t even see them anymore. The ugly glass and steel buildings for offices, erected recently in the centre of Athens around the Place de la Constitution, completely hide the view of the Acropolis from anyone standing in the square. The frame of the four-thousand-year-old cities is destroyed. Lycabettos, three-quarters stripped of its beautiful pine forest, is no longer Lycabettos in the eyes of those who knew and loved it fifty years ago.

And so it is everywhere. It is, or will be tomorrow on a planetary scale, the realisation of the sacrilegious dream of Descartes and all the devotees of anthropocentrism. It is the triumph of the immense human anthill over the savannah, the desert, all the terrestrial spaces where the superior man could still be alone and, through visible beauty and contact with the innocence of private life of the word, commune with the eternal.

Degenerate art Nature Neanderthalism Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book)

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 101

People will object that I am being unfair to the human elites who create culture. It will be pointed out to me that without a certain encroachment on the jungle, the savannah or the forest, and thus without the restriction of the natural domain of the wild animals, there would never have been cities or monuments, or all that is encompassed under the name of ‘civilisation’; the arts being all more or less linked to each other, as well as to certain fundamental techniques.

This is true, and no one can deny it. Or rather, it was true in the days when one could still think that it was worth cutting down a few trees to erect, on the top of a promontory or some other ‘high place’, a perfect temple or to build, in the middle of a plain, one or more pyramids with powerful symbolism, whose measurements corresponded to those of the Earth itself, if not the solar system. This was true in the days when, as an integral part of Nature, man had not yet risen against her in the laughable pride over other living species; in the time when, in the best societies—traditional societies—the most eminent minds, far from exalting themselves like Francis Bacon or Descartes at the idea of the ‘domination of man’ over the universe, dreamed only of expressing allegorically, in carved, painted, sung or written work, or by rhythmic sound and dance, their intuitive knowledge of cosmic truths, their vision of the eternal.

Then, human creation within certain limits fitted harmoniously into the natural environment. It didn’t spoil it or desecrate it. It couldn’t be otherwise, given that at that time only what René Guénon calls ‘objective art’ was considered ‘art’: work whose standards are directly linked to the artist’s knowledge of the standards of the visible and invisible, human and non-human universe. Thus were born the colossi of Tiahuanaco, the pyramids of Egypt and America, the Greek, Hindu or Japanese temples, the prehistoric or relatively recent paintings at the bottom of caves in Altamira, Lascaux, Ajanta; the Byzantine, Romanesque or Gothic cathedrals, the great mosques of the world, and all the sacred or initiatory music from Antiquity to Bach and Wagner, and the sacred dances of the Indies and the whole world. None of this takes away the soul of the native environment—on the contrary: it expresses it, translates it into the language of the eternal by linking it to it.

But all this was yesterday; it was mostly in the past. It dates from before, and in general long before, the appearance of the insect-man and before his sudden multiplication into not arithmetical but geometrical expression, the result of techniques for protecting the weak.

I repeat: quality and quantity are mutually exclusive.

Those whose numbers are increasing in geometric progression—doubling, and in some countries tripling every thirty years—can only ruin the land, the landscape, and the soil itself to which they cling like leeches. They need houses—any kind of houses quickly built and as cheap and ugly as possible. Art doesn’t come into play provided that, in technically advanced countries, they offer more and more comfort and allow an increasingly automatic life. In other countries it will be enough for them to line up, all alike, like a built-in series, on the site of uprooted forests. Corrugated iron will replace the fresh thatch. And fragments of rusty cans, roughly fixed together, will form the walls instead of palm leaves, which have become rarer. Thus these cheap dens are certainly not as good as the most primitive African or Oceanian huts or the ancient caves. But they do have the advantage that they can be built at the same pace as the human population.

As for the work of art, the visible reflection of the eternal, destined to last for millennia—the pyramid, the tomb, the temple or the colossus freed from the living rock, or erected like a stone hymn in the middle of the plain or at the top of an escarpment—has long since been out of the question. Man no longer builds under the direction of the wise, to give substance to a truth that cannot be expressed in words, but under that of entrepreneurs eager for quick profits to house as many people as possible, and any people whatsoever. The landscape is sacrificed, the forest is torn away, and its inhabitants—the beasts, the reptiles, the birds—are pushed back to where they can no longer live, or killed outright. Man, once an integral part of Nature, and sometimes its crowning glory, has become the executioner of all beauty, the enemy of the universal mother, the cancer of the planet.

Even the superior races no longer create symbols. They have replaced, or are increasingly replacing, temples and cathedrals with factories and medical research centres. And they ‘decorate’ their public squares with caricatures made of cement or wire. The music that their young people like, the music that they let blare out of their transistors all day long as a background for all their activities, all their speeches, all their remaining thoughts, is a bad imitation of Negro music.


______ 卐 ______


Editor’s Note: This is why, as soon as I hear degenerate music in the first minute of some white nationalist podcast, I immediately get off that website—just like I treat TV shows: as soon as I see a black guy I change the channel. Compare this attitude with WN pundits’ recent reviews of the latest Batman film.

Savitri Devi Souvenirs et réflexions d'une aryenne (book)

Reflections of an Aryan woman, 100

It is already too late to regret the past. We should have thought about it before the Second World War—and not unleashed it!—before the over-industrialisation of the West, then of the world; before the intensified massacre of forests and wild animals, and all the horrors committed or permitted, on the beast (always innocent, incapable of being ‘for’ or ‘against’ any ideology whatsoever) in the name of man’s interest, or of his well-being or simply amusement. We should have thought of this before the irresistible progression, the geometric progression, of the pullulation of the two-legged mammal at the expense of its quality, the ultimate source of all evils and all degradations.

It is already too late, not to mention the time when the degeneration of man, under the generalised rule of Chandala, will be an accomplished fact. There is little for the elite to do. There is only to maintain, against all odds, their faith in eternal, non-human values; to curse those men whom the powers of the abyss have chosen as instruments of their inevitable victory and, with all their strength, with all their thirst for beauty and justice, to call upon Kalki, the last hero ‘against Time’, the Avenger of all his glorious precursors: He who must succeed where they have all failed, and bring about the end of this Dark Age.

Whenever one passes through an overcrowded countryside, where quickly built houses and fields for the feeding of the human multitude stretch out indefinitely in place of the felled forests, one need only try to get in touch with the impassive and hidden principle of action and reaction, and pray intensely: ‘Return, O patient Lord, the earth to the jungle, and its ancient kings! Treat man, individually and collectively, as he has treated them and still treats them!’