Physical Bravery And Young Age

Set in medieval France, the historical drama La passion Béatrice opens with the lord of a manor and his teenage son returning from English captivity after a failed military campaign. But the lord’s homecoming is not what everyone had expected. He directs his first of many acts of wrath at his son, whom he torments for having frozen up in battle as the opposing armies charged toward each other. The boy’s older sister comforts him later, cooing “you were too young, not ready for war.”

Fast-forwarding to another war, two weeks ago in Germany a 26-year-old man was forced to watch a stranger rape his girlfriend at knifepoint, as reported:

A refugee from Ghana has been arrested for dragging a young woman from her tent and raping her while she was on a camping holiday with her boyfriend. The young couple […] were approached by a machete-wielding man at about 12.30 am on Sunday last week. The boyfriend was forced to watch as the attacker violated his 23-year-old lover.

It’s not clear what sidelined the boyfriend while his adversary went to the ground with the girl, what impromptu weapons were available to him, and what opportunity he had to attack the rapist. He could have grabbed a rock or a branch. Toss a handful of dirt into the African’s eyes while rushing him. Yell for help from other campers. It’s easy, from the position of a spectator, to construct a different ending to the story and I indulged in imagining the following alternate scenario, which begins with the Ghanian holding a knife to the girl’s throat:

GHANIAN: “Yoo watch fiki-fiki. Yoo moof, I cut your bitch”

GERMAN: “Stab away. She’ll be dead to me with nigger stink on her anyway.”

The German picks up a camping axe and approaches the interloper. The Ghanaian runs. An hour later in the couple’s tent, baby Hans is conceived.

By the way, as cold as it sounds, that fictitious “stab away” reply would not have been out of line even if the hostage were his daughter rather than mere girlfriend. But the young man didn’t follow my ex post facto armchair-quarterback script. Instead, maybe his brain short-circuited at the sight of sharp steel and he watched the action as though from behind a screen. Someone who grew up sheltered from any and all violence will freeze up when faced with an imminent prospect of physical pain. And that incident shows why shielding boys from common schoolyard rough-and-tumble is wrongheaded. I recently shared related thoughts on bullying.

A reader at Vox Popoli who is a retired military officer noted: “German boys always struck me as wimpish until the military got hold of them.” I don’t think his categorization of them as wimpish was intended as a slight. There is in fact something “not ready for war” about well-bred K-selected boys until they are mentored. They require time and guidance to mature. They don’t have that opportunistic aggression-for-aggression’s sake you see in r-selected types.

But at 26, the camper is not young. Certainly not by the traditional standards of infantrymen, with 22 being the average age of the U.S. combat soldier in Vietnam. Youth alone does not explain that instance of cowardice, as history is full of children who performed superhuman acts of heroism. Just three generations ago, boys as young as eleven fought as riflemen against professional and mercenary SS units in the 1944 Warsaw Uprising. Boys and girls even younger than that served as couriers and nurses’ aides under fire.

In fact, youth is typically associated with recklessness, bravery’s wild cousin. In Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum, a middle-aged character has a rueful interior monologue (to my recollection twenty years after reading that book) in which he rationalizes his own reluctance to join the ongoing political riots as being a function of his mature perspective. So has a 26-year-old German today “aged out” of bravery, relative to boys a decade younger than him who comprised Wehrmacht units at the Battle of the Bulge? No; mid-twenties isn’t “mature,” and the VP commenter already answered that question — the military never got a hold of him.

“The military” can be read literally, as well as metaphorically to refer to any communal structure that provides male mentorship to boys. Without that mentoring, they risk ending up as cake batter that failed to rise. An illustration: the mild-mannered young man in Scent of a Woman, who required Al Pacino’s guidance to bring out his innate integrity. The camper’s situation was compounded by the fact that he was not merely abandoned by his fathers, in which case he’d at least been free to figure certain things out by himself. Rather, his environment in a conquered and Allied-occupied Germany was by design hostile to the germ of masculinity within any native boy there. From his first day in Kindergarten, he learned shame and grew up to despise his original sin of existing.

“In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honour and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.” ― C.S. Lewis

A necessary aside: not everyone there is a coward. This is a proper moment to break away from the all-too-familiar accounts of submission because the preponderance of such stories creates a false sense of determinism. We are at war and with each new set of open eyes, the war is becoming less and less one-sided.

Not all is passivity among Europeans. In another incident, also in Germany, a group of Pakistanis sidled up to a family of five on a train and asked the man’s two little girls to sit on their laps. The child-molesting human garbage attacked the father when he told them to leave. They also beat his wife and their thirteen-year-old son, both of whom tried to shield his body. Brave men are out there, in Germany and everywhere else. The father stepped up to do his job and the teenage boy showed more mettle than the camper who is twice his age.

Even the most red-pilled of us is capable of getting angry, and the above news item made me livid. Anger is a sign of life.

Every human group upholds the three ideals listed below for the purpose of turning the wimpish boy into into a man. Those ideals are realized through social institutions, which in the West are being intentionally corrupted by liberalism:

Mentorship — When you visit a martial arts school or a little league baseball practice and you see non-Whites under instruction of White coaches there, you are witnessing a fatal compromise on a Männerbund structure for mentoring boys in the image of their elders. Diversity disrupts harmony. Blacks have their all-back inner-city boxing gyms. Whites have to price-out the diversity with sports like lacrosse and hockey.

Culture — As T.S. Eliot put it, “Culture may even be described simply as that which makes life worth living.” A living spirit whose great books for boys transmit masculine role models and foster a purposeful sense of identity. Culture is home. That’s why they wreck Boy Scouts and blue collar fraternities such as firefighting and construction work by pushing women and diversity on them.

Destiny — A sense of having a past and a future. The kids who fought in the Warsaw Uprising knew that they had a home and a destiny of their own, which they fought to secure for themselves and for me with their young lives. Sure of their righteousness in the inferno of urban warfare, they sang:

We’re the children of Warsaw going into battle
For your every cobblestone, we’ll give our blood
We’re the children of Warsaw going into battle
On your command, we’ll bring wrath to the enemy

Freezing up when an armed rapist grabs your girl is the fruit of political systems whose aim is to destroy White nations and with them, everything that the millennia of Western history have irrepressibly created even through the worst times along the course of our highs and lows. Our key objective in this war, in Germany and everywhere else in the West, is to secure our freedoms of association. You give a damn for, you fight and kill for, you give what you have and you do your best for, and you willingly die no matter your age, for what is yours.

1944b

Image source: Wikipedia. “The Little Insurrectionist,” Warsaw

Cultural Memory

28Sherman regularly posts WWI images on his blog. Some of them connect us with the soldier in the image, other photos show strange inventions as each side was rushing to adapt to the changing technology of the battlefield. I think his aim is to reconnect us with the continuity of our civilization. I came across a good maxim the other day: “In Europe 100 miles is far. In America 100 years is old.”

A cultural amnesia is reinforced by the cacophony of electronic stimuli and shades of mud. Westerners are drowning in sewage and have no idea what to say besides “White people have no culture.” For someone under thirty in the United States, watching a YouTube video with 1980s TV commercials can be dislocating. “Wow, everybody is White and the girls are … how do you say… I’ve never seen this before… is ‘nice’ the word I’m looking for?”

I don’t know much about Dresden beside what I read in Vonnegut’s novel. What do young Germans know about it? Do they even know that something existed before all the bitchy women, the Turks and now the full terror of race-replacement? The teenagers who died in the firebombings… did they ever exist? do they have anything to tell us?

It’s a similar idea with my Warsaw snapshots in the previous post. My blog’s tagline is also an appeal to cultural memory. How can you live any other way when all you know is the way you live now? To somebody who is Eastern European, Communist propaganda reels from the 1940s might connect him with his grandparents’ stories about rabid Party apparatchiks and their unchecked power to ruin lives at every level of society, the blood-curdling 3:00 AM secret police knocks on the door, the mass imprisonments — and the Happy Face of socio-realist art plastered over all of it. But there were also ruins that had to be rebuilt, and they were. The workers were the heroes, whatever they thought about those staged Bricklaying Competitions.

A Westerner will look at scenes from Warsaw as exotic in their particulars but familiar in terms of his undefined hunger. Whether it’s the idyllic video of a stroll of a through 1990s Warsaw I linked to there, or the bricklayers in 1947 “A Warsaw Day,” he will see a public space that belongs to its rightful people. No war, no tension, no ceding of ground, no foreign faces, no ugly languages, no dissonance, no withdrawal from life. Having seen the past, he’ll find clarity about fighting for peace and his future.

“Dispatches from a Besieged City”

Here is a fragment from Zbigniew Herbert’s poem “Dispatches from a Besieged City” (orig. “Raport z oblężonego Miasta”). Herbert wrote this poem during Poland’s 1981-1983 Martial Law as an allegory for that event, using imagery from the 1939 siege of Warsaw and the 1944 Uprising to tell a larger story of nations that are under attack. Do we know of any nations that are under attack today?

Translated excerpts from Herbert’s poem:

Too old to carry a weapon and fight like the others —
I was assigned by their grace the chronicler’s role
I write — do not know for whom — about the siege
I have to be exact but I do not know when the raid precisely began
two hundred years ago last December September maybe yesterday at dawn
all of us here ail of the loss of the sense of time
[…]
I write as well as I can to the rhythm of endless weeks
Monday: the warehouses are empty the rat became a unit of currency
Tuesday: the mayor has been murdered by unknown perpetrators
Wednesday: talks of a ceasefire the enemy interned our emissaries
we don’t know of their whereabouts read: their place of slaughter
Thursday: after a stormy meeting the majority rejected
the spice merchants’ proposal for unconditional surrender
Friday: the beginning of plague Saturday: N.N. the steadfast defender
committed suicide Sunday: no water we repelled an attack at the Eastern Gate
[…]
in the evening I like to wander around the borders of the City
along the borders of our uncertain freedom
I look down at the ant heaps of their troops their lights
I listen to the noise of the drums the barbaric screams

[…]

(The full original poem is HERE. Przemysław Gintrowski interprets the poem musically HERE.)

The selected passages above feature a speaker who reports on the everyday conditions of the siege in a resigned and matter-of-fact way. Herbert then shifts the speaker’s tone, over the course of several additional free-verse stanzas, into bitterness and then anger upon noting the ghastly precociousness of the city’s children.

Herbert’s speaker then reaches an epiphany to resist despite the lack of hope. He gets there by connecting his situation to that of history’s other besieged people who have always been ignored, or at best condescendingly pitied, by the rest of the world. He concludes that defending the real and the metaphoric ruins is all that’s left to do.

***

In his Harvard lectures that he later compiled and published in a volume titled “The Witness of Poetry,” Czesław Miłosz said that in reading the scribbled notes of concentration camp inmates, he noticed that it was not educated adults, but rather children who most vividly described their conditions.

One of the worst thing a child can feel is a recognition that he is abandoned by trusted adults. And in thinking about cities under siege from a child’s — or in this case a teenage girl’s — point of view, see a German girl’s now-famous YouTube video, which was banned from Facebook. The brave 16-year-old girl, named Bibi Wilhailm, makes a heartfelt appeal for help. She also denounces the adults and authority figures who have abandoned her to the terror of the refugees.

Her video is at the end of this post. Here is a transcript of her words from the English subtitles:

16 y/o German girl talks about muslim immigration, destruction of her own country (Engl. subs)   [title of the YouTube video]

Hello, you can read the newspapers but this video is about the real situation in Germany. I would like to tell everyone about this on Youtube and Facebook. I am almost 16. I would like everyone to know what is going on, what I am authentically feeling at this moment.

And I am so scared everywhere. For example, if my family and I go out together, or if I see a movie with my friends. Usually I stay at home, but sometimes I stay out until 6 pm in winter, and it is so scary. It is just very hard to live day-to-day life as a woman.

I just want to say that I am not a racist. But one day, a terrible thing happened at the supermarket. I ran all the way home. I was so frightened for my life. There’s no other way to describe it.

My aunt and her friend have said you have to grow up. Why should we, children, have to grow up in such fear? It’s not just me, my friends too. You can see on Facebook, a 17 year old attacked, a 15 year old attacked, two 12-year olds attacked, so many. It is really so sad that this is happening … because of YOU PEOPLE.

I cannot understand why they do this. But more importantly, I cannot understand why Germany is doing nothing! Why is Germany standing by, watching, and then doing nothing? Please explain, why. Men of Germany, these people are killing your children, they are killing your women. We need your protection. We are so scared, we don’t want to be frightened to go to the grocery store alone after sunset. The politicians live alone in their villas, drink their cocktails, and do nothing. They do nothing! I do not know what world they live in, but please, people, please help us! Please, do something! I cannot understand why this is happening. One day, my friend and I were walking down the street, and a group of Arabs were protesting and demonstrating. They shouted, “Allah! Allah! Allah is the one God! Kill those infidels! Allah Allah!” What should I do? Should I wear a burka? Why should I have to convert to Islam?

It’s fine if you believe in Allah, but why do you want to make everyone else believe in Allah too? I just think it would be better if there were no religion. Stop trying to make everyone else believe in your God when they do not want to.

Please, people of Germany. Do something!

When I try to tell the authorities about what has happened, they hold their hand up towards me and they say it is a problem and then ignore it. and they laugh. It is unfair. They laugh at us. They say we are dumb. They think this not only of me, but of the entire state of Germany. They don’t care about our fear. Please help us. This is an emergency! There are more and more of them.

One time in summer, the Muslims said we were sluts for walking outside in a t-shirt.

Yes, we were wearing t-shirts. It’s summer!

Another day, I was wearing this. My friend and I purchased it while shopping hehe. If we feel like wearing it, we will wear it! And you Muslims have no right to physically assault or rape us for it! God willing, never in my life. You have no right to attack us because we are wearing t-shirts. You also have no right to rape.

The life of Germany has changed because these people cannot integrate. We give them so much help. We support them financially and they do not have to work. But they only want more babies and more welfare and more money. Men of Germany, please, patrol the streets and protect us. Do this for your women and your children. If you do that, I believe that we will have a chance.

This sort of action would be wonderful. We would be so grateful and thankful. So many thanks, if steadily, more men would come to protect us. We are so scared.

I am so upset about what Merkel has done.

Thank you, Angela Merkel, for killing Germany! I have no more respect for you, Merkel. I do not think you know what you have done. You do not see how our lives have changed. Open your eyes! Is this normal? Should I, a 16-year old who is almost 17, be so scared to walk outside my house? No, it is not normal. You have killed Germany!

This is the truth. We are no longer allowed to walk outside. We are no longer allowed to wear our clothes. We are no longer allowed to live the German life. This is the sad truth.

I think it’s about time to end this video. I believe I have given a full account from a normal person. I hope others can see this and understand.

I only want to end with one message: Men, please, help your women. Help your children. I am so scared. My friends have the same fear. We are shocked that this has happened. I hope this video can convince you, and that this terrible events can stop.

On White Knighting

“Listen, Stan, don’t deal in death lightly, but if someone threatens your homeland, the life of your mother, sister or the life of a woman placed in your care, put a bullet in his head with no questions asked and don’t burden yourself with any remorse.”

Henryk Sienkiewicz, “In the Desert and the Wilderness” (1910)

“So I Could Look Myself in the Mirror”

A young woman sat in front of me and opened a book as the subway rolled underground in predawn hours. It was a real book, not even Kindle, much less an iPhone. At the next station, a very large and visibly intoxicated Black guy gets on the train and wobbles through the car, hazily surveying the empty seats. Then purpose flashes in the cloudy soup of his eyes; he beelines toward our end of the car and takes the seat immediately in front of me, next to that girl with a book. He wasn’t a hobo; he looked more like a construction worker coming down from an all-night drinking bender. The smell of alcohol fills the air.

If his presence next to her made her nervous, or if she stiffened her body, I couldn’t tell. She kept reading as he sat there glancing at her face, gears in his head slowly turning. Predictably as sunrise, he grins and says “hey guuurl, whatcha reading?” She answers politely, with uptalk. Meanwhile the train stops at various stations and I wonder, “Why isn’t this idiot girl getting off and waiting for the next train?” Maybe it’s her feminine instinct: it’s early, there are no people on platforms and it’s safer on the train than if he were to follow her out at a station. Or maybe it’s her obliviousness to a threat.

I take stock the situation. He is sitting right in front of me. My glasses go into my pocket. I memorize the car number printed on the end door. Then ask myself, will I do anything if he starts pawing at her? I have no interest, in the slightest, in being a hero on her account. There are those who they need me alive, to hell with some chick who probably voted for Obama and is not likely having White children soon. I have no obligation to her. But then the words “look myself in the mirror the next day” run through my mind. She seems like a nice girl. The decision is made — I will.

So on to tactical planning: number one, I’ve won serious fights as an adult but it’s clear that I’d have no chance against him on account of the sheer difference in our size and weight. Do nothing unless he touches her. If he does, I will grab his neck in a wrestling choke. No half-ass about it. Balls to the wall until he passes out or else he will overpower me. Survey the car: there is a handful of other passengers but nobody to count on for assistance. The girl, another woman, a thin older man, and a young guy who doesn’t seem likely to be of much use. On the plus side, there is nobody here who would interfere on the drunk’s behalf. There is another Black man in the car, but he is a pudgy Talented Tenth with a gentle face.

The train stops at my station. I exit and tell the station manager about a drunk passenger aggressively bothering people. I describe him and provide the car number. The station manager’s face is serious and he gets on the phone.

Casting Pearls before Swine — or Sacrificing a Good Man for a Pig

There was a news report about a young woman who attempted suicide by jumping out of a window. Standing on the street below, her boyfriend tried to catch her. Landing on him, she lived but he died. If I had the power right now, then I would — without any doubt about the rightness of what I am doing — reverse their fates so that the young man lives and she dies. The loss of a self-evidently quality man was not, in this example of personal sacrifice, duly recompensed with the prolonged life of a selfish, neurotic attention-whore.

Elaborating on the subject of wasting good men for less-than-worthy women, Matt Forney recently featured a guest post from a blogger named Kyle, titled “Men Aren’t Fighting for Women Anymore, and Why Should They?” Kyle has no illusions about the revealed dispensability of men in modern West. He knows about the contempt in which all of our institutions hold us while expecting our sacrifice. He is clear-eyed about the broken social agreement, one that obligates both sexes toward both self-restraint and self-sacrifice in the interest of the common good. Kyle writes:

I don’t want it this way, but it’s simply the harsh reality of the situation. In today’s age of shunning men, extreme female promiscuity, and generally degenerate culture (celebrity worship, obesity, rape culture, etc.), why would men rush to jump in front of a bullet for a Western woman?

As Kyle heavily qualifies in his post, it is proper to sacrifice oneself for a family member or a friend. And as I would also add, for a child and for one’s own standards of honor. Those qualifications aside, I applaud Kyle’s alert cynicism and his insight into today’s one-way arrow of duty between men and women.

Can These Castrati at Least Sing?

Here is the LINK to the story. Dutch men put on mini-skirts to support victims of sex attacks. My appeal to somebody in the Netherlands: please beat them with wet rubber hoses.

dutch

My appeal to these misguided boys in miniskirts: you were born and raised during Europe’s outburst of effeminate madness. Your Northern soul seeks the truth and strives for righteousness, but everything you believe is a lie. The truth is that your undignified unmanning fails to protect even one Dutch woman. In fact, it has the exact opposite effect, in that your self-inflicted beclowning emboldens the savages that have been pumped into your country. Furthermore, when a Dutch girl sees you parading about like this, her disgust with an Arab’s grope becomes milder than her revulsion at the thought of your caress.

The Hero of Cologne

Via the UK Daily Mail, Ivan Jurcevic is a 44-year-old Croat and a former kickboxing champion. He was working in Cologne as a hotel doorman and on New Year’s Eve 2015 he saved two German women from a mob of “rapefugees.” He said:

‘There were four of them, young men in their 20s, speaking Arabic. They told me not to interfere, that the girls were “theirs”.

‘The girls looked like they worked in a bank, they were wearing jeans and coats, nothing provocative, they were really frightened. I told them to stand behind me.’

‘Then the loudest member of the gang came at me with a bottle so I kicked him in the chest and sent him flying. Another came at me so I slapped him across the face and he went over as well.

‘The leader drew his finger across his throat and told me he would be back to kill me. I stood my ground and they went on their way.’

Kikcbx

Ivan Jurcevic

Men have biographies, women have grandchildren. You will look back at your one shot at life and you will ask yourself: did I earn the right to stand next to Jurcevic? Most of us are not seven-foot-tall martial artists, but we all make decisions that reflect on our quality as men. Do you know what you believe in and do you stand up for it?

Valor for Virtue: “Jeans and Coats, Nothing Provocative”

White knighting is a derivative of a social contract wherein men’s valor is exchanged for women’s virtue. Chivalry was never a one-way street; that would have been called “cuckoldry.” A chivalrous knight defended the lady — but he also scorned the whore and had his adulterous wife beheaded.

Jurcevic’s account from Cologne, which I quote above, reveals the traditionalist mindset: “the girls looked like they worked in a bank, they were wearing jeans and coats, nothing provocative.” He not only just triggered a thousand Slut Marches, he drew the difference between girls who merit masculine protection, and ones who do not. And recalling the Sienkiewicz quote at the top of this post, a recent comment by reader Peterike comes to mind:

It was all about the homeland and the women. I guess a threat to one’s self doesn’t need explaining, but it needs more consideration to kill in that case. But threaten my nation or the women and it’s over for you. Such healthy attitudes! Today, as immigrant hordes threaten our nation and quite actively assault our women, we sit supine.

Men secure the present through our provision and protection. Women secure the future through the children they bear us. For the equation of mutual duty to work, men are expected to be valorous and women virtuous. That’s the two-way arrow of obligation that gave women priority for lifeboats on the Titanic.

A reversal of our decline will begin when we White men affirm our responsibilities to our women and reassert our expectations of them, pulling together those scattered links of interdependence. The women of Europe are afraid and maybe Merkel’s deluge is Providence handing us an opportunity reclaim what is ours.

“Welcome to Hell, Stray Lambs”

The are three types of political street demonstrations in the contemporary Western context, each a function of a different type relationship between the state and its citizens:

  • Type 1 Protest: A ritualistic humiliation of the state’s internal enemies.
  • Type 2 Protest: A show of solidarity between the people and the state against an external enemy.
  • Type 3 Protest: A people’s challenge to the legitimacy of the state.

Type 1 Protest — “Hey Hey, Ho Ho…”

This is the type of protest in which the participants are jubilant and cocky, visibly having a good time. Participating in this kind of a demonstration is risk-free with regards to legal consequences, especially considering how destructive those protests can wind up being. I happened upon one of those demonstrations last year while walking down 14th Street just east of the White House. The procession looked something like this:

protestblm

It was about fifty #BlackLivesMatter demonstrators marching, with several police cars slowly trailing them. The chanting was a spirited call-and-response. I have to give Blacks’ this: they are good at the clappy-rhythmy thing. I couldn’t get the chants out of my head for a while. If you didn’t know any better, you would believe that marching people were righteously angry, judging by their furious voices and wild faces. But we know better: it was all self-indulgence and theater, like the histrionics of an “American Idol” hopeful channeling Aretha Franklin.

Porter over on his Kakistocracy blog nails this attitude in his inimitable style:

Blacks don’t hold a monopoly on solipsistic meanderings, though they certainly make a market. […] It’s like hearing a child lecturing to play-doh figures. The latter being mute objects whose value and morality is judged by the extent they serve the speaker’s ends. There’s only one beautiful creature owed deference by the world. And I don’t just mean TaNehisiCoates.

There is no real anger among American blacks because America is their paradise. No other group of people in history had been given so much privilege on so little merit, short of maybe old Egyptian sun-gods. Anger is a very serious and dangerous thing; frivolous demonstrations of something that resembles anger are just play-acting.

With its fake indignation, the Type 1 protest purports to oppose the system, but it is in fact aligned with that system. Even when those protests get overly exuberant and cause loss of life and destruction of property, they never threaten the system itself or even risk much of a backlash when establishment press provides public relations cover.

This is the template for a standard left wing protest in Western countries. Other versions of this melodramatic freak show are Slut Walks or college campus rallies over a triviality. A Type 1 protest can look like a celebration or a tantrum, but whatever its form and tone, it affirms the state’s rule by humiliating any active or potential opponents of the state’s ideology. The Ferguson riots were essentially American establishment’s victory dance over traditional notions of community and property rights, all under the umbrella of Obama administration’s apocalyptic enmity to White America. At its core, the Type 1 protest is a by-proxy display of the establishment’s vigilance against internal threats to the system.

Type 2 Protest — “Welcome to Hell, Stray Lambs”

In this scenario, the protestors are secure in their relationship with the state but to reference writer Anonymous Conservative, their K-selected instincts are triggered by a perceived external threat. Nationalist and anti-migrant marches in east/central European countries belong to this category.

Europe has a knife to its throat but paradoxically, it is the countries that are under less immediate peril that are raising alarms more loudly and clearly. Hungary and Poland have next to no migrant population, and yet it is there that we see the most spirited demonstrations, most notably an estimated 50,000 nationalists marching through Warsaw on November 11, 2015. But it is not paradoxical at all, once you understand that people protest more confidently when they know that their government and police are on their side.

Given the large scope of this subject, I will limit my examples here to banners at football (soccer) stadiums. The following banner says “Protect your women — not our democracy” in English. The banner was unfurled by Polish spectators at a men’s volleyball game in Berlin in response to the EU’s threat of sanctions over Poland’s new right wing government and it refers to the New Year’s Eve migrant attacks on German women in Cologne. The message here is “fuck off, Germany.”

banner3

And the banner below — the namesake for this post — says “Welcome to Hell, Stray Lambs.” Consistent with Type 2 protests, its message is aggressive rather than defensive. The message here is “expect no mercy, invaders.”

stadium

Finally, HERE is a short video that features explicitly-worded anti-invader chants at Polish soccer stadiums, with English subtitles. It gets really good at the 2:10 mark.

What all of these examples have in common is an aggressive confidence of a Type 1 protest with the seriousness which those lack. The Type 2 protest is a warning, a guard dog’s growl in the interest of averting unnecessary bloodshed. It is a populist show of solidarity between the people and an acknowledgment of confidence in their authorities. Nominally, the riot police were out in Warsaw during those massive demonstrations, but there was no sense of antagonism between the protesters and the state. The show of strength is addressed to potential external threats.

Type 3 Protest — “Where Were You?!”

Type 3 protests arise under prerevolutionary conditions. They are potentially a genuine threat to the authorities because they are a symptom of the state’s loss of its legitimacy in face of people’s increasingly implacable grievances. Once the perception of legitimacy goes, all it takes is a push.

The short video below is what motivated me to write this post. It shows a small group of young German men aggressively confronting the police over their failure to keep security in Cologne on past New Year’s Eve, but instead amassing at a subsequent nationalist rally. There is a quality in this protest that is normally absent in Type 1 and Type 2 demonstrations, which you will see and hear in this 13-second clip:

It’s in the protestors’ voices and body language. Look at the man in the center-front of the crowd, his tense and jerky movements like a coiled snake that is still afraid to strike. He is overcome with emotion but restraining himself from lunging at the police. He and his fellow protestors are chanting “Wo, wo, wo wart ihr Silvesternacht!”, or “Where, where, where were you on New Year’s Eve.”

The overwhelming emotion in this protest is the rueful hurt of a man who just realized that he has been betrayed by those he trusted, similar to a man who just caught his wife in an act of infidelity. A government that wants to remain in power best take these people’s grievances seriously. Those German protesters are more dangerous to the regime, insofar as them being an indication of serious problems of legitimacy, than a blocks-long street march of confident people with banners.

Europe 2016: Where to from here?

“To say that democracy in Poland is in peril is ridiculous, to put it mildly. If anyone in Europe should be concerned for their freedom, it is the citizens in the West. If there is any place where political correctness and criminal law prohibit speech, it is not in Poland.”
-Jarosław Kaczyński, chairman of Poland’s governing Law and Justice party

When you humiliate a man, he remembers it forever. The leaders of Western European countries are doing just that. In an unprovoked act of genocide-scale aggression, these governments and institutions are imposing on their people a fight-or-flight condition with nowhere to flee. People have picked up the scent of malice.

It does not appear that the usurper elites, in their arrogance, had thought this through. They rely on state security forces to suppress a reaction but they don’t seem to have considered a scenario in which policemen remove their helmets and join the protestors like Slovak riot police did last year at an anti-immigration march.

Members of Europe’s ruling class and their servants are betting on a comfortable life among Ahmed’s sons in Tahrir Square writ-large, with Johann’s sons protecting them from savagery of the sort that Lara Logan experienced. They keep building that world, all the while running up a bill of scores for Johann’s sons to settle.

ROM-exc