How has it come about that so many people have adopted this strange attitude of hostility to civilisation?
Sigmund Freud, Civilisation and its Discontents
I call an animal, a species, an individual corrupt, when it loses its instincts, when it prefers what is injurious to it.
Friedrich Nietzsche, The Antichrist(ian)
Everyone knows the quote, whether or not it was ever actually spoken. Those whom Guillaume Faye describes as ethnomasochists, Westerners who hate themselves and their ilk and their achievements, repeat it with relish. When allegedly asked by a journalist what he thought of Western civilisation, Mahatma Gandhi supposedly replied; “I think it would be a good idea”. Whether or not this spindly icon of the disenfranchised ever actually mouthed these words or not, they are better known than a far more verifiable aside from Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister of post-colonial India. “It takes a lot of money,” he said, “to keep Gandhi in poverty.”
‘Civilisation’ has as its Latin root civitas, the body of citizens comprising a state, usually a city-state of the type hypothesised by Plato in the famous Republic. The word already implies a measure of social cohesion, co-operation and mutual facilitation towards a greater goal, the well-being of the populace, the good city. It isn’t that Gandhi’s peasant, idiot savant witticism was wrong but, as Hamlet says, the time is out of joint. It isn’t that civilisation would be a good idea; it’s that it was a good idea.
The civilisations men – all those despised dead white males - have built, the ones they have aimed to build and failed, Plato’s res publica, the public entity, Augustine’s civitas dei, the city of God here on earth, the civitas solis of the alchemists, the city of the sun, splendour and magic. And look at the worthless tenement we ended up with, all iPhones and The Great British Bake Off and Nelson Mandela. Civilisation doesn’t require a meditative stroll through a Renaissance art gallery while quoting Dante and Kant. That is a part of it, but not the sine qua non. Civilisation is rather the hundred daily kindnesses observable even in our rather unpleasant cities. As we import cultures, from Mohammedanism through crony capitalism to rap, these kindnesses will become vestigial, an antiquarian curiosity. It won’t do.
It won’t do and it won’t last. The barbarians are not at the gates; they are inside the city walls. We should have listened to the – appropriately enough – Arabic proverb; rather a thousand enemies outside the house than one inside. But we don’t even know who our enemies are. We have the pale, flabby courtiers of the Western media telling us, commanding us to believe, that our enemies have names like ISIS, UKIP, Vladimir Putin, when their names are Herman van Rumpoy, David Cameron, Barack Hussein Obama…
The writing is on the wall for Western civilisation, certainly in the incarnation of its historically dominant white ethny. Our time, the time of the white man and woman, is over now. As a good friend of mine says; it’s someone else’s go on the pool table. Fine. Let’s hand history over to Islam, or blacks, or
give it a hundred years or so, and see how it rolls. China
I won’t be around, of course. Good, says the Lefty. You are a slaver, a dominator, a hegemon. But we will not go away. Simply put, we will hide. And, when the ensuing chaos, a chaos which we cannot now escape, gives a moment of respite, we will re-emerge. Leonard Cohen’s version of The Partisan; Then we’ll come from the shadows…
You’ll be aware of the Hollywood genre movie in which the moneyed, suburban family man is suddenly cast out into the jungle, or urban wasteland, or sinister conspiracy, and has to fight for his life, discovering a new skill set he didn’t know he had but was there all along, buried in the atavistic depths waiting for an opportunity to be called on. This shooting script – and there is a lot of shooting coming up – is what the West needs now. Gandhi and his state-supported, indentured kind may think Western civilisation would be a good idea, but those days are gone with the Raj. What is needed now – and what the West is going to get whether it wants it or not, like bitter medicine spooned into a bawling child’s mouth – is de-civilisation.
We need to go backwards for a while. Pity the young Western boy or girl. Brought up to think they can all be models, or footballers, or rap stars. No, kids. You’ll be lucky to be stacking shelves in Tesco.
We had everything, we have everything, but we gave it away, are giving it away, thanks to the traitors who sit in our marbled halls of power. Intellectual or shop-worker, banker or rough-sleeper, journalist or junkie, it’s coming your way. How will you deal with the coming collapse? Will you run or hide, or will you stand up and be counted? Will you face our Western fate like a man, or like a diversity officer in an NHS trust? We’ll see.
Civilisation, in my belief, is fast approaching the equivalent of the Brechtian penultimate scene in Scorsese’s Goodfellas, in which the Mafioso Henry Hill – a real character; see the book Wiseguys - steps down from the dock to recount the violent yet successful history of the mob before its inevitable decline. Addressing the camera, actor Ray Liotta says,
“We had it all. And now it’s all over.”
I may be wrong. I hope I am. I have a vested interest in being wrong, after all. I have a little niece, who I adore, and some of you reading this have kids. Good Lord. What will they become? What will they see? But I think civilisation is over, for the time being, being and time. The reason? It is far better expressed by Henry Rollins, rocker and general hard-nut, than that old fraud Gandhi:
“Freedom? You can’t handle freedom.”