Evidently, I am not the only one who thinks there has been reversal of cultural degeneration. We hit rock bottom during the Summer of Floyd in 2020. We’re on the way back up now.
WSJ:
“The decline of woke isn’t merely a “vibe shift.” It marks the end of the 60-year rise of left-liberalism in American culture. We are entering a post-progressive era.
Woke refers to an ideology of equal outcomes and emotional-harm protection for minorities. It produced phenomena such as cancel culture, men in women’s spaces and the toppling of statues. It energized a suite of policies known as diversity, equity and inclusion, whose roots lie in older racial-sensitivity training and affirmative-action programs. It is now in retreat.
The Trump administration has rescinded executive orders on affirmative action and disparate impact that were more than 50 years old. Universities are no longer allowed to enforce broad, identity-based speech codes, many of which arose nearly four decades ago. Colleges have adopted institutional-neutrality policies and ended mandatory diversity statements. Corporations have cut back on DEI. Today’s anti-DEI mood is likely to outlast the current administration, reflecting a deeper shift in the culture.
Culture can change from the top as elites lead public opinion. American elite culture turned against immigration in the late 1880s, then gradually liberalized between the 1920s and ’60s. Are we witnessing a similar elite-led shift, this time away from the ideology of equal outcomes and emotional-harm protection that has guided it since the mid-1960s? …”
You are citing notorious Jews as evidence of your own fallacious wish fulfillment.
Minnesomalia is ready for burning it all down as Chauvin gets a pardon?
Remember comrade lefty mongtard hates your guts and wants you gone by any means necessary.
Hate them right back tenfold and burn this mofo down is a feature not a bug.
I wish I could find a cohort or support group for young White Christian men with white families in the nyc area. This place is ground zero for the invaders of our country and it really gets to me mentally. The closest places I can think of are AA groups–but those guys are a bunch of losers. For now, at least there’s Occidental Dissent.
The majority has always been against the judeo-left program, but because the judeo-left controlled media and academia it gaslit everyone into thinking they were almost alone in their opposition and everyone walked around afraid to say what they really thought, many pretended fervently that they’re the biggest supporters of the program, hence virtue signalling. With the internet and the collapse of internet censorship, people can see by now that everyone hates the judeo-left program. I know the author dislike Kanye, but he represents a society wide rejection of judeo-left thought regime. The jews at the top with their shiksa wives have never felt such risk to their reign. Everything from the Virginia gunrights march years ago to public support for Rittenhouse to the White British unrest over the girls getting stabbed, to Tarrant, to Mangione, to vax mandate refusal, to anti-Israel culture saturation, to much else taken together paints a troubling picture for the rootless international clique. Come on, if Whte women get to fund raise off telling off Somalis then the charade is up!! Everyone, especially pro-Whites who’ve been in it for decades, need to assess this new thing that we’ve entered.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marcel_Jouhandeau
English translation of https://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Jouhandeau.pdf
WARNING
I have warned you not to publish these ultima verba until long after my death.
In my little cemetery, I am now safe from the Marchandeau law, the LICA and the killers of the Israeli secret services.
But you, the French of today, your days are numbered. These French days are steadily dwindling, and soon this country of mine, which was once yours, will join the Third World club.
It’s a question of time… it’s a question of Jews or not.
Remember to defend yourselves by all means against those who work to destroy you with their exacerbated racism, their demonic dream of world domination, and above all, never forget that their power only exists through our baseness, our futility and our cowardice.
(Thanks to my faithful friends)
Rueil, April 1972
Marcel Jouhandeau
ULTIMA VERBA
What I published before the war would be absolutely impossible in today’s advanced “democracy”.
National emblems have given way to the Star of David, and we are under its yoke. Already, at the turn of the century, Maurras asserted: “The Jew opens the door to the metèque.” As I predicted in 1938, the “victory” of 1945, i.e., the victory of the Jews, has transformed the Frenchman into a sort of bewildered chatterbox, game for all basenesses, all humiliations, all cowardice, applauding only the Jew, rejoicing only in his own death. Even the instinct for territory, the instinct for self-preservation, has disappeared.
The “Jewish Peril” of 1938 is now, in 1972, well and truly with us, and we’re all going to die from it.
From Christianity to the gas chambers, from Anne Frank’s diary to Chagall, this race has distinguished itself by its incredible imposture and its gift for demolishing non-Jewish souls and complexing them to death. It has to be said that the stupidity of white non-Jews is unfathomable.
Ever since the Diaspora (2,600 years ago), these hysterical people have never integrated into their host countries. And it’s they, the worst racists, who now have the nerve to make us digest millions of immigrants, by-products of over-birth, who hate us and infest France!!!! Cry havoc…!
Right now, this Talmudic spawn is preparing public opinion for an anti-Bolshevik crusade, and do you know why, my little ones? Quite simply because all Eastern European countries are viscerally anti-Semitic. Russians and Poles in particular.
The Bolshevik revolution, 95% Jewish, is no longer Jewish today, any more than it is socialist. The Jewish crusade with Aryan breasts is not over. Israel has set fire to the entire Middle East, and peace will only return after its total destruction, like Carthage.
Now that the Third Reich has become the Soviet Union, the danger of war is the same as in 1938, and for the same reason – the same “crime”:
Not to allow ourselves to be enslaved by the Jews.
HOW I BECAME AN ANTI-SEMITE
Article published in October 1936
At nineteen, when I left my home province, I didn’t know what a Jew was. In the nearly thirty years I’ve been living in Paris, I’ve met many Israelites from all walks of life, and I must confess that I’ve only found sympathy and friendship among them, and only once hostility, which had no effect on me.
So it wasn’t out of self-interest, envy or personal grudge that I came to regard the Jewish people as my country’s worst enemy, the enemy within. It was my patriotism, as dormant as it was, that suddenly alerted me.
I was at a friend’s house, maybe two years ago, when I saw a Jew X walk in, uninvited by the way, hiding behind someone and pretending he’d only come to meet me.
So X approaches me, flatters me (they’re very good at it) and thanks to this maneuver gets in, little by little lets me go and there he is in the foreground with his feet on the table, ham on his knees and up to his hair. X has a lot to say. On his return from America, he triumphantly brings back the good news that France has been banished from the world.
Not content with merely reporting this opinion, he approved of it, and added to it the further comment that, no matter how much he read and reread the history of our country, it was in vain, to his great regret, that he looked for a sympathetic figure, or even the slightest selflessness, a single act of generosity, even the shadow of greatness; that no doubt there was Napoleon, whom he alone admired, but unfortunately Napoleon wasn’t French.
I would have forgotten all about this adventure, had I not met young P. by chance a few weeks ago, and pointed to X, my fat Jew who was approaching, recalling before him with disgust what judgment this gentleman had dared to pass on our story. To my astonishment, young P., without hesitation, replied that he was sorry to upset me, but that he agreed with X, his master, I imagine.
The ugliness of French history made him blush, too, French as he was, and he didn’t even except Napoleon. On the other hand, he had a great admiration for X, he confessed, because X lived on a houseboat.
“As far as I’m concerned,” I replied, “X could live on the Vendôme column, but he wouldn’t interest me. If there’s a piece of bacon hanging in my cellar or attic, I don’t take any notice of it, not going to look for it unless it stinks and the house is full of it, so that I can shove it out the window.
Thus, at the same time as he exalts within himself, to the point of adoration, the esteem of his own blood, as he proves, as soon as one touches his race (he’ll make it clear), the Jew openly teaches the little Frenchman contempt for France, and the latter, docile, not only follows the lesson, he goes beyond it; he not only despises his homeland, he surrenders it to the contempt of the Jew.
Didn’t I hear another young Frenchman, not long ago, say to me sincerely, without wishing to taunt me: “You wouldn’t be proud, Monsieur, to be a Jew?”
Again, I think he would have liked to say, but I don’t know what modesty prevented him from daring: “You wouldn’t be prouder, would you, of being Jewish than French?”
No comment.
However, up until then my emotions had remained mediocre, when I happened to glance at La jeunesse d’un Clerc by the Jew Benda in the NRF (July-August 1936). Now, all things considered, I was obliged to note that Mr. Benda is not as far from X as we thought, and I deduced that Jewish patriotism is not only questionable, but suspect.
The passages I’m about to quote and comment on will prove it. Mr. Benda begins by talking about his ancestors: “And now,” he writes, “I suddenly find myself thinking about them, about my parents‘ parents and my parents’ parents. I see a succession of intelligent, hard-working, ironic Jews, friends of science, while almost everything around them languishes in superstition.”
We’re talking about our French grandfathers, whom Mr. Benda takes the liberty of scorning and humiliating in such an unabashed manner. Let’s lower our heads.
And Mr. Benda turns once again to exalt them at the expense of our own, to his forefathers “agents of human liberation on whom all parties of progress rely”. In truth,” he concludes, ”I’m ashamed to have come so late to feel so proud to be descended from such an elite.”
That’s all there is to it. They are the elite!
Later, a more important confession: “My parents’ patriotism will be of interest to the historian. It was, I believe, that of most French Jews of the time (after 1870), and perhaps even of those of today. My parents had a deep attachment to France (my father had stopped seeing a friend, X’s grandfather no doubt, who always spoke badly of it), but this attachment was above all intellectual: it hardly included any instinctive, carnal, irrational element.”
This is a very judicious analysis of patriotic sentiment, and highly instructive for us, because it explains precisely the fragility, inconsistency and non-existence of the Jew’s love for his adopted homeland.
By Mr. Benda’s own admission, the Jew’s patriotism will always lack what is essential to all love, which is that instinctive, carnal, irrational element (what is an attachment that interests only the intelligence and not the guts? ), which is why I will henceforth be justified in maintaining that it is a serious insult to France and the French to consider a Jew, whoever he may be, as a French citizen, and that it is one of the most profound inconsistencies of the French Revolution to have given Jews the right to live among us.
Mr. Benda continues: “Never did they (my parents), sing me the glory of Du Guesclin or Jean Bart or even Napoleon.”
From Saint-Louis and Joan of Arc, there was no danger, I mean, there would have been too much danger.
“Chauvinism,” he concludes (translate: true patriotism, the patriotism of the French who are not Jews), “seemed to them good for concierges. (Les concierges, c’est nous). What my father really loved in France was French civilization (civilization in general, but not France in particular), the great liberal tradition (he’s getting to that), the Revolution.”
I believe you! What Mr. Benda’s father loved in France was his own self-interest. If it weren’t for the Revolution, the Jews wouldn’t be oppressing France.
Because the Jews oppress us. Monsieur Benda is willing to explain, with his customary candor, how they came to do so. It’s like reading The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. The marvel is that, while the Jews reject the Protocols as apocryphal, Mr. Benda signs his book: “Since the modern state opened every door to us,” he admits, “we had to take advantage of this opportunity, which was finally offered to us, to prove that we were not the inferior race our detractors claimed, but on the contrary, a race of the first order in its working power and gifts. (It’s easy to see why). We had to strive for the top positions. What the entire Jewish bourgeoisie of the time held up as a model for its sons were the three Reinach brothers, who had just won every prize in the general competition. It was only natural that the Jews of the time were so keen to show who they were.”
They show it so well that they occupy all the top places today, indeed. High finance, industry, commerce, agriculture (wheat trafficking), French thought, the Sorbonne, all the Academies belong to them, and Monsieur Blum with all his Israelite sequel is in power. Monsieur Léon Blum is the true successor to Louis XVI. This is what the Revolution did for Israel. It made him King of France. And when Israel is King…
But the Jews don’t just oppress us, they hate us. I still quote Monsieur Benda (NRF, September 1936, p. 448): “Very attached to France, my parents were well aware that, even on my mother’s side, they had not been established in this country for more than three or four generations, and they would never have accepted the comicality of claiming to be part of the French tradition. It is properly (in what they have of universal, of superior to the accidents of time and place), that I learned to respect human virtues.”
So far, so plausible. We’re just a little surprised by so much ingenuity, so many accumulated blunders through which we can discern the very fabric of everything that Mr. Benda’s fellow creatures are so careful to remedy.
But where Mr. Benda unmasks himself a little more, a little too much, and suddenly becomes intolerable, is after confiding to us “his worship for values set in the eternal”, when he expresses to us “his hatred of those who salute them only in the historical.”
Hear that? Just that, his hatred, the hatred of this little Semitic clown, and you know who it’s going to? To you, to me, to us who have traditions and the strength to love and respect them. Although he claims to be a French citizen, not content to repudiate them on his own account, because they disturb not only his own beguiling idealism, but the aims of his race, Mr. Benda forbids us to love our traditions and respect them on pain of being hated by him. Because it has pleased Mr. Benda, as he claims, to get rid of his own, we are no longer free to keep ours, without exposing ourselves to his wrath, to the wrath of this foreign gnome, this intruder whose authority is due only to our patience.
I said foreigner, and indeed for my part I’ve always instinctively felt a thousand times closer to our German ex-enemies, for example, than to all that so-called French Jewish scum, and although I have no personal sympathy for Monsieur Hitler, Monsieur Blum inspires in me a far more profound repugnance.
At least I know where I stand on the Führer’s feelings towards us, and the Führer is at home and master of his house, whereas Blum, Benda and X are not from my house and they are at my house, and what’s stronger, Monsieur Blum is master of my house or about to become so again, when I’ve never known, and no European will ever know, what an Asian thinks (there’s grey and grey matter), and it’s here, and only here, on the logical level, which is only the other side of the physiological level, that the question of race arises and takes on its full importance.
Experience has constantly confirmed my feeling that the principle of identity, for example, does not have the same rigor for the sons of Shem as it does for us, that there is not for the Jew and for us the same distance between YES and NO. When my man says yes, it’s the opposite of no, but all the while the Jew is ironizing, and his smile alone fills the gap.
Is there only a nationalist polemicist by trade and half-Jewish to demand Herriot’s head in a public lecture, while clutching to her heart, like a talisman, the photograph of the Pasionaria, and is there only a Christian Jew who could boast (a Christian back home would never have even suspected it was possible), who could boast, I say, of fooling God every morning at communion. I can still hear him whistling in my ear: “And in the end (after all this pretending), God is fooled.”
No, we have nothing of these conjurers, and if they have succeeded in deceiving us up to this point, we are free to let ourselves be completely annihilated to allow them to further prove their excellence or to react.
As far as I’m concerned (and God knows I’ve been sensitive to their charms, from which I’ve had to defend myself with violence), as much as I’d be willing to escort them with palms and gifts, if they didn’t decide to return to Palestine, I vow here and now to report them to the vindictiveness of my people, as long as there’s a single one left in France who isn’t subject to a special status.
NOTE:
X has claimed since the publication of the above article that he had alluded before me, in condemning it, only to nineteenth-century France. Assuming that my memory has deceived me, which I deny, and that one can feel the deepest disgust for the governments that have led us for a hundred years, these governments are not the country.
The Jew, more than any other, should at least have the discretion to keep quiet on this matter, given that Jewish high finance and Jewish agitators share with Masonry the responsibility for our debacles.
Incidentally, an ethnographer writes to persuade me that we are all of mixed race. He must be worried about his own blood. I’m not worried about mine. All I have to do is look back at my grandparents, and in front of them, I am immediately aware of the something that I don’t know, something horrible for us, which accompanies every Israelite face, gesture and word. The difference is immediately perceptible, obvious, striking: what a paucity, if you don’t have this criterion!
One day, a long time ago, I put a famous Jewish poet face to face with a humble woman who didn’t know he was a Jew or what a Jew was, my mother. Well, the reaction was swift, by which I mean the instinctive repulsion he inspired in her and, as a new convert, when, in an attempt to gain admission, he took out his rosary, Franchise had turned her back on him. “You can tell she was born under the sign of Aries,” he confided. “She defends her door. And what a look she has!”
This is the truth. So I won’t complain that I’ve made as many enemies as there are Jews in France and as many friends as there are Jews in France. I’m only sorry to see how deep the evil is, “gangrene generalized” and “scabies with pleasure doesn’t itch”, as the saying goes.
Because he flatters the worst in us, the Jew triumphs over us. Fortunately, a few others with me retain the pure memory of a provincial corner that allows them to defy the virus. Lonely enough never to love what I love to my heart’s content, of all the fans and admirers I’ve lost, I care as much as the filth left behind by the athlete who’s just got out of the bath.
THE JEWISH PERIL
Article written in February 1937
A young Frenchman, who graduated top of his class from Polytechnique, said to me recently with resigned sadness, “The Jew has more density than we do. There’s nothing to be done about it, and there’s room for everyone in France.”
After a fair observation, what an unforgivable mistake! What dangerous indifference! Barely 450,000 Jews live in France – in other words, Jews make up 80 percent of the French population – and they’re everywhere. They monopolize everything: politics, finance, commerce, industry, art, literature, and there’s no cause for alarm?
If the noise they make were still due to the eminence of their merits and our mediocrity? But no, it’s only due to their monstrous greed and our natural modesty, their insolence and our politeness.
The testimonies I find in the brochure sent to me in defense of the Jews by the Union patriotique des Français Israélites were not unknown to me. I do not dispute their validity.
Consequently, a certain category of Jews is entitled to some consideration, but I believe that there is a long way to go between this right to consideration and the right to govern us, to direct not only opinion but French thought, not only French thought, but public affairs in France.
And Monsieur Jean Zay is our Minister of Education: the director of French Conscience is a Jew.
And Monsieur Léon Blum is in power, which could be no more than an indiscretion (felt by a few good Israelites, as there are, and I’ll define them later), which could be no more than an unimportant accidental fact, without precedent or sequel in our history, like Disraeli’s presence at the helm of the British Empire.
Given the time and the circumstances, this fact is a symptom, and a serious symptom, of an alarming state of affairs, namely that the Jews are no longer a colonized colony here, but a dangerously colonizing one.
We will never assimilate the Jew. We will only make him superficially, apparently French, and he will make us Jewish by every means at his disposal, physiologically, by having our sons methodically marry his daughters and by systematically monopolizing for his sons all the levers of command in the Nation.
Does the French patriotism of the Israelites, whatever it may be, and the number of victims they suffered in the last war justify such annexation? It’s all there.
As a writer, it has been particularly painful for me, ever since I realized it, to see that the most precious texts of our literature, which are the sacred repository of French and Western tradition, have fallen into the hands of men who themselves admit that it would be comical of them to claim to be part of the French tradition (J. Benda, NRF, 1936, p. 448), into the hands, I would say, of Orientalists, whose origins in no way prepared them to understand them, and who have no natural mandate to explain them.
Despite my personal respect for my teacher, Monsieur Léon Brunschvicg, for example, there is no doubt that Pascal would have preferred another commentator.
However magnificent and honest his presentation of a spirit so essentially ours, it is of an Israelite, as we learn and feel on every page. Something slips into the atmosphere that is foreign to him, and Monsieur Brunschvicg has nothing to do with it; it was not up to him but to the director of the Collection des Grands Écrivains Français, who was wrong to choose him for such a task.
Similarly, Mr. Gustave Cohen, whose merits I have praised, is not qualified to take on Rutebeuf or our texts from the Middle Ages. I’ve attended performances of our Miracles and Mystères that he’s taken the initiative to give, and I’ve asked myself, “Why did he take it?” If on stage you can constantly feel the Israelite adulteration mingling with our pure French language, it’s quite a different matter when you look closely at the style he claims to adapt to our contemporary fashions. Tradition is a subtle secret that is not passed on laterally, but in a rigorous order of succession, from father to son, and the slightest interference from intruders alters and betrays it.
In this respect, who will not agree with me that it is odious for French pupils to be taught French or the history of their country by metatics, and to find themselves nine times out of ten at the Sorbonne or the Conservatoire, on examination days, facing Semitic – I was going to say, simian – examiners.
Simian, the word fits perfectly.
A few days ago, a professional philosopher pointed out to me the extent to which Bergson’s apparent perfection of language is due only to conscious mimicry, by which I mean, without any spontaneity. Also of probable durability? None whatsoever.
Almost all the conductors in Paris are Jewish, and now only Jewish music is played? Messieurs Honneger, Darius Milhaud, etc., could have their cake and eat it too.
Didn’t I give the key to these abuses when I said, “But why did he take it?” about Monsieur Gustave Cohen’s initiative?
Never a creator or by accident, in fact, the Jew is born to use the works of others and, his activity being a function of his restlessness, his restlessness having no limits, he pursues his goals feverishly, without experiencing fatigue, provided only his intelligence, all practical and fertile in combinations of all kinds, is at work.
He’s no more a born painter, musician or writer than he is a farmer. If he becomes one, it’s from the tam-tam; he immediately commercializes his work. His genius lies in his publicity. But what a marvellous speculator on the wheat that others grow! What a brilliant art dealer! What a virtuoso! What an actor! What a critic! What a publisher! What a politician, above all! And it’s just as well that Politics is par excellence the Art of using others.
In short, to characterize the work of the Jew and stigmatize him at the same time, is it enough to consider him under the aspect of the most royal parasite, under the eternal aspect of the Louse; louse of the library, louse of France, louse of England, louse of Europe, louse of the whole Earth. I don’t see him as an aviator, it’s too dangerous.
The day my first anti-Jewish article appeared, Marcel Aymé, for whom I have deep sympathy, confessed to me his astonishment at seeing me suddenly become so fiercely xenophobic: I don’t mind, he agreed, that there are too many Jews in the Ministries today, but I don’t see that many elsewhere.
I could have asked him just to look around the house, at our shared publisher where we’d just met, where almost all the department heads are Israelites.
Whom do these people prefer to surround themselves with, and do we believe that the authority of a Jew, however fair, is not more disagreeable to someone from our company than that of another? We’re not talking here about a difference in religion, but a difference in race – and what race is that?
From the flower of the West to the flower of the East: two worlds, two ways of seeing and proceeding. For us, the shortest route from one point to another has always been a straight line. For them, it’s the curve or the meander.
A letter I received today from Austria is a timely and valuable document from an Israelite whose father is German and whose mother is French, or vice versa. Naturalized French before the war, he deserted so as not to serve against Germany.
Today he is expelled from Germany, and asks me how he can return to France without exposing himself to the odiousness of a council of war.
In passing, I’d like to make what I consider to be a fair distinction between Jews. A friend of mine, a devout Catholic, whose sister is in religion, lives near rue des Rosiers and, trusting only what she sees, no one has more esteem and respect than she for the small Israelite people she frequents, who like her have their own religion and traditions, and who respect the religion and traditions of others.
And no doubt this humble flock, settled in the city, would not in itself represent any danger to us, if it were not the breeding ground for the intellectual Jew who will try to destroy us tomorrow.
As a small Jewish merchant, didn’t he aspire to send his son to the Lycée? And the latter, Blum or Jean Zay, without renouncing the messianic ambitions – secret, no doubt, unconscious perhaps, but no less imperious – of his race, now a great adventurer of the spirit, will aspire only to lead the great revolutionary movements.
revolutionary movements.
His immediate goal can only be to destroy the existing state of affairs (by which I mean, the national traditions of the country that has given him hospitality), in order to establish a new order in which he will no longer be kept on the sidelines, but completely and definitively aggregated – for this is the only hope, the only victorious evolution of a people that is the only one in the world to have no homeland: to systematically destroy all the homelands of others, where it remains a stranger, so that there is only one humanity where it can no longer be distinguished from the rest of mankind.
A Jewish invention, Communism has no more devoted followers than the Jews. Twice uprooted from their material heritage by a tragedy of history, and from their moral discipline through their own fault, they are universal renegades, all the more cursed for having been predestined, with no ties to the past, their only vocation now being to destroy and take revenge.
Already with us (as I have shown elsewhere, in connection with Mr. Benda), they have pursued the sacrilegious goal of not only detaching us from our own history, but inspiring contempt for it: that we are envied nothing so much on the other side of the Rhine as our admirable procession of kings and great men for 2,000 years, without interval, busy creating the most beautiful domain that is ours and which fell into the hands of the Jews, which is governed today by a Jew and we suffer it, and that the Negroes and Arabs would not suffer it ; which has fallen into the hands of the Jews, we are now sure, to serve as their instrument, for it is obvious that the so-called anti-fascist leagues and the Front Populaire campaigns were bribed and organized above all by Israelite financiers and leaders, not in the interests of the country, but to satisfy their particular grudges by preparing for Communism, and the situation is so dramatic, the tragedy so imminent, the outrage so profound for us, that the reaction should be immediate.
If it delays, indeed, it will be all the more terrible, so that this cry of alarm could in the end be more useful than harmful to the Jews, if they pull themselves together and deliver us from their presence. In any case, in the interests of my country, I could not refrain from speaking out.
JEWISH PROCEDURE
Article published in July 1937
We read in the Bible, Numbers, chapter 33:
“Jehovah spoke to Moses in the plains of Moab by the Jordan opposite Jericho, saying, ‘Speak to the Children of Israel. When you have passed over the Jordan and entered the land of Canaan, you shall drive out all the inhabitants of the land before you, destroy all their carved stones and all their images of molten brass, and lay waste all their high places. You shall take possession of the land and dwell therein, for I have given you this land to possess it. You shall divide it by lot according to your families. You will give a greater inheritance, etc.
But if you do not expel the inhabitants of the land before you, those of them whom you leave there will be like thorns in your eyes and like goads in your sides, and they will treat you as an enemy in the land you are going to inhabit. And I will treat you yourselves as I resolved to treat them.”
This is the people France is up against. Today, the land of Canaan is ours, and if it is no longer Jehovah who speaks to the Jews through the mouth of Moses, it is a secret instinct that drives them to drive us from our land.
If they don’t yet own the whole territory, there are departments where, when you ask who owns the immense expanse you can see from the top of a mountain, the answer is: “X. or Y.” And X. or Y. is a Levy or a Bernheim, Jewish merchants or one of their clerks.
The great names of France and its estates, its palaces, its castles, the Jews took it all over. They’ve turned their daughters into princesses and duchesses by dint of money, and the manors of France are their country houses, as well as all the levers of the country’s public and moral life: Messieurs Blum and Zay are, one, President of the Council, the other, Minister of Education, and both are Jews.
Masters of international finance, the debacles as well as the triumphs of France always enrich them alone and for sure, and when they make the workers sing the Internationale de la Misère, it’s the Internationale de l’Argent that they sing in their salons, in their banks or in their bureaux de change.
On the eve of the devaluation, a Jew told me: “Tomorrow, I’m attending a conference at the XX. (Jewish bankers), if you want to earn 100%, entrust me with all your money.”
To buy French annuities, no doubt, and sell them three days later.
But the Jews’ most precious auxiliary against us is both the nature of our country and the ignorance in which they know how to keep us about themselves.
We French are not a race indeed. France is a combination of heterogeneous elements: a nation.
So the Jew is admirably physiologically organized to fight against a people whose unity is only virtual. It’s a strong, unassimilable element that slips in among weak, scattered elements, a disease that attacks us deafeningly from everywhere at once, and we not only fail to defend ourselves, we ignore the need to defend ourselves.
When the Jew realizes an enlightened fighting element who knows what he wants and where he’s going, we don’t even know what we’re losing and what he’s gaining. Almost all ministries are their thing already, and we haven’t noticed or find it natural.
A fact: the centenary of the University of Athens is being celebrated, and who are they sending to represent France in an Eastern European capital where Jews are particularly despised? At the head of an anonymous “French” delegation are two Jews: Monsieur Jean Zay and Monsieur Marcel Abraham.
Wasn’t it the Jews who were being honored, to the dishonor of scorned France, and what Frenchman protested? We think it’s only natural.
When I talk about the Jews in Limousin or Marche, people think I’m still in the Ancien Régime or the Old Testament. They say: human rights, freedom of worship and conscience, that there have been Lutheran or Calvinist presidents of the Republic.
As if this were about religion. We’re talking about something quite different here. We’re talking about a race, the most terrible and bitter race that has ever existed, a race of jackal-hearted lions to whom France has fallen prey, and if there’s one thing the Jew laughs at, it’s all religions, his own first and foremost, but in his religion there are two or three things he never laughs at, These are the things that forge his soul, that help him to maintain his strength, to oppose and prefer himself to the rest of the world, to triumph through patience, cunning, insolence or baseness over everything that is not him and dares to resist him.
Tomorrow, we won’t be able to do anything about it. The methods they use are harsher and more radical than those of war, of open warfare. They are not at all like Moses against Canaan. They are on the spot, and from within, from the inside – having acquired our territory and our titles to domination and honours, parcel by parcel – they are tearing down our carved stones, our bronze statues (I mean: our traditions), trampling them underfoot every day, destroying them systematically, slowly, without us even wanting to know about it.
They take over our high places. They have almost nothing left to envy: supreme power, power itself, they hold. But that would still be nothing, if they weren’t now able to reach even further: the highest of our highest places: I mean the soul of this country.
They have power over it too, this power of their own, which they turn into something prestigious, something magnificent, and it’s because I feel this so violently that I can’t sleep anymore, that I don’t know why something wakes me up at night and makes me scream on the ramparts, as if someone were slitting the throat of what I’m guarding.
I didn’t ask for this mission, I received it. It’s been given to me. I’m surely unworthy of it, but it’s not about me, it’s about obeying some kind of irresistible mandate: the individuality of this country is in peril. We are being disfigured, we are being mutilated, our throats are being slit at night.
The Press
1° Because they have the money, the Jews dominate the press. In the organs they have not bought or created themselves for the needs of their cause, they have enormous interests which make them feared, so they cannot refuse anything favorable to them and will never publish anything hostile to them.
I know this from experience. How many seemingly powerful doors do you have to knock on, if you’re not a friend of the Jews, to find just one opening in front of you? Many people, no doubt on the sly, give you reason to act against them, but no one dares – I’m not saying to band together with you, but only to allow you to speak.
There’s no room in the mainstream press for purely French Truth. The Jew is there, watching. You shall not pass. Only Maurras defied them to their face, and we know what that cost him: he’s in prison.
If silence is terrible, there’s something even worse. The Jew will not content himself with muzzling a certain Press, the whole Press, he will create another, and this one will not content itself with silencing the Truth; it will manufacture it, it manufactures French opinion from scratch on Jewish orders; this is how France’s current state of mind, its disaffection with itself, the chimera of fascism on the one hand and the threat or reality of a Red dictatorship on the other are the work of the Jews: they pit us against each other, and by dividing us, they gradually weaken us, the better to dominate us.
The death of craftsmanship, the class struggle, the discredit in which the country holds its own elites, the irreparable loss of the politeness that was our glory, the irreligion of the masses in our country – for all this the Jew is primarily responsible, as incapable of creating as he is of destroying.
And don’t get us started on pitting Mandel against Blum, the conservative or nationalist Jew against the revolutionary and internationalist Jew. It’s precisely this ambiguity that gives them their strength, all of them. They give the lie to this party game, because we are never awake enough to catch them at the very moment when they have all agreed on something: on their common interest against us.
Sufficiently awake, that’s the word. The Jew’s sleep and ours are not the same.
Nationalizations
2° Having made the principle triumph in public opinion that, faced with a regenerated Germany, France, having lost all its blood, needs to be infused with an abundance of foreign blood, the Jews, now in power, with the nationalization machinery at their disposal, are opening our doors to an underworld that comes from everywhere.
And wherever it comes from, whatever it may be, as long as it has nothing to claim against them, they welcome it and allow it to share with them the same rights as we do, rights that our fathers acquired for us at the cost of so much effort, so much struggle, and that we have generously, stupidly, unconditionally granted to Israel for over a century, as if they were men like any others.
Needless to say, this contribution, this contribution from the metèques who overnight have become French citizens, soon to be eligible voters, on the way to creating the next Communist majority, is provided mainly by the ghettos in the four corners of the world, so much so that it’s surprising to find so many curly-headed people in Paris for some time now.
Today, equipped with the same advantages as us, but more awake than us – I’m not talking about everything that concerns their immediate interests, but their ambition (every Jew believes himself to be more or less the messiah of something) – we’re going to see them, we can already see them agitating in political offices or rushing to our prebends. And I’m not talking about the carpet trade, which we could leave to them. They’re no longer content with that. They are painters, musicians, poets, and the colors they use will be so garish, the music they make will be so noisy, the tasteless poetry they write in bad French will be so foreign to us that all their congeners, who certainly have the genius for publicity, will cry out for genius, for originality, and France, the true French painters, musicians and poets, will be relegated to the cemeteries.
National education
3° But the worst calamity, not only imminent, but present, accomplished, already realized before our very eyes, without anyone having even cried out, is that which concerns the education of French children and young people: Monsieur Jean Zay, a Jew, has in his hands the living future of this country: he can knead its matter and spirit as he pleases, in his own fashion.
Everything depends on his will, and indeed he has just reformed teaching. It’s not discretion that’s important here, but destroying, undermining, destroying again and as quickly as possible: this is the strength of the Jew who has not failed in his duty.
In what sense, in fact, has this reform been carried out? not everything is to blame, alas! for it is the part of truth contained in every error that makes it so dangerous. The singular, the particular, the facts, the elusive nuances, what used to be the prize of our language, our sensibility and our thought as much as of our wines – QUALITY is sacrificed everywhere.
What is properly ours is being replaced by the general, the abstract human and even abstraction itself. Life, biology and history will all be suppressed by mathematics.
Above all, no tradition, anywhere, ever. Nothing will remind us of it. It is the great culprit for all other peoples before the Jew until it is dead, and dead he will trade on its c*rpse.
(last paragraph)
So not only do we sing the Internationale in the streets, to the ears of the child, to the ears of the young man, in our schools, we hum other words which are less coarse no doubt, but which, for being more subtle, and little by little, when he has been lulled by this song for a long time, when he has forgotten that he is French, the heir to a great people and a marvellous past, now that he has become a man, he will wake up the sl*ve of the Jew.