This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,

This blessèd plot, this earth, this realm, this
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Feared by their breed and famous by their birth,
Renownèd for their deeds as far from home
For Christian service and true chivalry
As is the sepulcher in stubborn Jewry
Of the world’s ransom, blessèd Mary’s son,
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out—I die pronouncing it—
Like to a tenement or pelting farm.
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of wat’ry Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds.
That England that was wont to conquer others Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
How happy then were my ensuing death!

Richard II 2.1.45

As Britain copes with yet another terror attack it is becoming increasingly clear that ordinary citizens are unable to process or comprehend what is happening to their country. (In May of 2017 the most current attack is the Manchester bombing of Ariana Grande's concert. Britain does not look to have a shortage of jihadis anytime soon, so feel free to insert the name of the most recent attack whenever you read this.) All the vigils and gestures that seem so hollow from a nationalist perspective apparently still placate the masses, but are intentionally devoid of any spiritual content. Even the nationalist responses to Manchester tend to center on Enoch Powell's Rivers of Blood speech. As prescient as Powell was, he approached immigration as a politician and criticized it as a bad policy that would result in violence. Government policy is itself a result of changing social mores, and the mindset of Western elites was bent on replacing white, Christian culture long before political action was taken to facilitate demographic suicide. Alan Burns noted in his In Defence of Colonies that the British policy was prioritizing the colonized peoples above the interests of the Empire as early as the 1920's, though these attitudes did not spill over into public consciousness until midcentury.

"In many cases 'anti-colonialism' is merely a cover for intense racial feeling, a colour prejudice in reverse which reflects the resentment of the darker peoples against the past domination of the world by European nations. In all cases 'anti-colonialism' is based on emotion rather than on reason, on misconceptions instead of a correct appraisal of the facts, and a distinguished American jurist has pointed out that 'we are flooded with vague concepts, like "sovereignty", "democracy", "rights of small nations", "equality before the law", put forward as though they had some definite content.' In Defence of Colonies; Introduction

Leaving aside the subversive left that actively promotes Islam over Western Civilization and the dimwit left that is so easily mocked online for not jumping to conclusions about the probable identity of a suicide bomber, we are left with the platitudinous normie who attends a vigil, dubs some first responder hero-of-the-day, and vows to keep living his empty, materialistic life "so the terrorists don't win". Citizens of this sort follow a preset ritual in response to terrorism, a ritual directed by celebrities and cultural trendsetters that circumscribes the words, actions, and charitable giving of the crowd and channels grief and anger into impotent but socially acceptable expressions. Sadly, in secularized Britain many of these unthinking conformists fancy themselves educated freethinkers and look down on their Catholic ancestors as ignorant bigots controlled by priests and the liturgy, despite the fact that any illiterate 12th century peasant could predict Britain's current troubles after a five minute walk through modern London and could also give Theresa May better advise on handling Muslims than the combined American, British and French intelligence and diplomatic services.

Modern Britons have been conditioned to place their faith in abstract words like democracy but to mistrust any metaphysical or spiritual interpretation of history because the elites understand that only a spiritual revival can sustain opposition to their materialistic, globalist agenda. The paganism of Africa and the semitic faith of the Middle East are temporary cudgels that the British government uses to break what remains of white, Christian culture. Thoughtful writers like J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis explored the spiritual battle for the West in fiction decades before deadly levels of immigration were foisted on the British people.

It is frustrating for those of us who can see Europe's suicidal tendencies to try and revive the Western tradition of combating Islam and barbarism generally. Every right of center commentator has a favorite book that illuminates the modern European dilemma. Submission and Camp of the Saints shed light on the outsiders imposing their culture on Europe, while 1984 and Brave New World reveal the measures Western governments will take to silence their own dissident citizens. Since I have an above average interest in literature I will pretend as I tout my own favorite books that a non-trivial number of citizens still read anything longer than an email. Really that liberal, freethinking British agnostic is today as aliterate as his ancestors were illiterate, but at least the memes that will nudge him to the right should be based on the unabridged wisdom of the ages.

The Lord of the Rings is a fascinating expression of Tolkien's vision of pre-Christian epic history. In addition to his generally reactionary views on technology, aristocracy, and hierarchy, Tolkien gives a blueprint for the subtle dangers of prosperity in his chapter on the scouring of the Shire. At the end of their adventures the hobbits, with whom Tolkien personally identified, return to their homeland only to find it overrun with invaders of a foreign race who had been at first invited in. The invaders changed the culture of the Shire for their own benefit, using more and more force to suppress reaction from the natives. All this came about after the political leadership of the Shire was co-opted by Saruman, a member of an ancient though not numerous race distinct from both natives and invaders, an internationalist who dazzled and confounded everyone with his verbal acuity and subtle reasoning. Under his direction traditional structures are torn down and replaced with the uniform ugliness of modern architecture. Saruman literally uproots the Shire any way he can, destroying homes and cutting down ancient trees just to make the landscape unrecognizable. The scouring of the shire is often taken as a warning against the collectivism of the Soviet Union prevalent when Tolkien was writing, and to the extent that Soviet collectivism was materialist this is a valid interpretation. The Lord of the Rings as a whole though is a mythic history about spiritual struggle, not an allegory of 20th century history. Tolkien feared the subversion of all the good, homely fruits of peace, and he believed the English to be particularly susceptible to the lie that prosperity is infinitely extendable.

The Scouring of the Shire is rarely selected as a favorite passage among Tolkien fans, but it should have special significance for reactionaries and nationalists. Unlike the superficial realism of George Martin's Game of Thrones in which every good thing is pointlessly crushed to death, Tolkien's world is redeemable, but the cost of its redemption is steep. Not everyone gets to go home happy; Frodo can save the Shire but never again be at peace there. Tolkien explicitly defended the Scouring of the Shire as an integral part of his story because the fight for civilization is not only the task of kings and knights but also of farmers and housewives.

'Who are you, and what d'you think you're doing?' said the ruffian- leader.
Farmer Cotton looked at him slowly. 'I was just going to ask you that,' he said. 'This isn't your country, and you're not wanted.'

Unsurprisingly, this revolutionary message was not depicted in The Lord of the Rings films. The structure of Peter Jackson's epic quest is more amenable to the fantasies spun by military recruiters. If you want to have an adventure, join the Marines and go "over there" to release all your violent energy; when you come back the homeland will be just the same as you left it, we promise!

'This is worse than Mordor!' said Sam. 'Much worse in a way. It comes home to you, as they say; because it is home, and you remember it before it was all ruined.'

The destructive power of the centralized state that Tolkien attributes to the malice of Saruman is examined by C.S. Lewis as well. In Is Progress Possible? Lewis considers the result of scientific advances being put at the disposal of the state. Lewis holds a very organic view of culture in which the virtues of Europe are connected inherently with the age long traditions of Christendom, and the meddling of the state for the purpose of social improvement is most likely to destroy the moorings of our civilization without any guarantee of a superior, or even adequate replacement.

I believe a man is happier, and happy in a richer way, if he has ‘the freeborn mind’. But I doubt whether he can have this without economic independence, which the new society is abolishing. For economic independence allows an education not controlled by Government; and in adult life it is the man who needs, and asks, nothing of Government who can criticise its acts and snap his fingers at its ideology. Read Montaigne; that’s the voice of a man with his legs under his own table, eating the mutton and turnips raised on his own land. Who will talk like that when the State is everyone’s schoolmaster and employer? Admittedly, when man was untamed, such liberty belonged only to the few. I know. Hence the horrible suspicion that our only choice is between societies with few freemen and societies with none... To live his life in his own way, to call his house his castle, to enjoy the fruits of his own labour, to educate his children as his conscience directs, to save for their prosperity after his death — these are wishes deeply ingrained in white and civilised man. Their realization is almost as necessary to our virtues as to our happiness. From their total frustration disastrous results both moral and psychological might follow.1

Lewis explores the potential disaster of social engineering in That Hideous Strength, the third novel of his space trilogy. That Hideous Strength is an idiosyncratic, genre-bending dystopian science fiction fairytale with a happy ending that places all the themes Lewis worked out with his essays, poetry, and scholarly writing into a narrative filled with references to renaissance literature, the House of Stuart, and Arthurian legends.

The transhumanist National Institute of Coordinated Experiments seeks to preserve consciousness without any organic bodies, almost like Mark Zuckerberg's attempt to transfer all of human interaction into Virtual Reality. The first part of the NICE agenda requires breaking down traditional human emotions through the use of news propaganda, modern art and architecture, and the normalization of every sort of degeneracy. The opponents of the NICE are the modern remnants of King Arthur's court who are aided by a reawakened Merlin. Few passages of Lewis's work encapsulate the sickening realization that undergirds neoreaction quite like the moment when Merlin learns that all he called good is now called evil and that every part of the society he remembers has been destroyed or perverted.

This Saxon king of yours who sits at Windsor, now—is there no help in him?”

“He has no power in this matter.”

“Then is he not weak enough to be overthrown?”

“I have no wish to overthrow him. He is the king. He was crowned and anointed by the Archbishop. In the order of Logres I may be Pendragon, but in the order of Britain I am the King’s man.”

“Is it, then, his great men—the counts and legates and bishops—who do the evil and he does not know of it?”

“It is—though they are not exactly the sort of great men you have in mind.”

“And are we not big enough to meet them in plain battle?”

“We are four men, some women, and a bear.”

“I saw the time when Logres was only myself and one man and two boys, and one of those was a churl. Yet we conquered.”

“It could not be done now. They have an engine called the Press whereby the people are deceived. We should die without even being heard of.”

“But what of the true clerks? Is there no help in them? It cannot be that all your priests and bishops are corrupted.”

“The Faith itself is torn in pieces since your day and speaks with a divided voice. Even if it were made whole, the Christians are but a
tenth part of the people. There is no help there.”

“Then let us seek help from over sea. Is there no Christian prince in Neustria or Ireland or Benwick who would come in and cleanse Britain if he were called?”

“There is no Christian prince left. These other countries are even as Britain, or else sunk deeper still in the disease.”

“Then we must go higher. We must go to him whose office it is to put down tyrants and give life to dying kingdoms. We must call on the Emperor.”

“There is no Emperor.”

“No Emperor . . .” began Merlin, and then his voice died away. He sat still for some minutes wrestling with a world which he had never
envisaged. Presently he said, “A thought comes into my mind and I do not know whether it is good or evil. But because I am the High Council of Logres I will not hide it from you. This is a cold age in which I have
awaked. If all this west part of the world is apostate, might it not be lawful, in our great need, to look further . . . beyond Christendom?
Should we not find some even among the heathen who are not wholly corrupt? There were tales in my day of some such: men who knew not the articles of our most holy Faith but who worshipped God as they could and
acknowledged the Law of Nature. Sir, I believe it would be lawful to seek help even there—beyond Byzantium. It was rumoured also that there was knowledge in those lands—an Eastern circle and wisdom that came West from Numinor. I know not where—Babylon, Arabia, or Cathay. You said your
ships had sailed all round the earth, above and beneath.”

Ransom shook his head. “You do not understand,” he said. “The poison was brewed in these West lands but it has spat itself everywhere by now. However far you went you would find the machines, the crowded cities,
the empty thrones, the false writings, the barren beds: men maddened with false promises and soured with true miseries, worshipping the iron works of their own hands, cut off from Earth their mother and from the Father in Heaven. You might go East so far that East became West and you returned to Britain across the great Ocean, but even so you would not have come out anywhere into the light. The shadow of one dark wing is
over all Tellus.”

“Is it, then, the end?” asked Merlin.

Mercifully Tolkien and Lewis died before the terrible fate of England became clear. In their most fantastical writings neither man imagined the specific depravity of post-Christian Britain, with its enforced equality, transgender rights and Muslims taking over churches. The invasive collectivism of Tolkien and the scientific materialism of Lewis are less horrific than the squalor of reality. Most modern British cultural productions, from Sherlock to James Bond, are desperately anachronistic in their depiction of quiet country estates, dedicated public servants, and monumental architecture. The uninformed viewer might get the mistaken impression that these things are still statistically representative of the British populace. The notion that politicians would intentionally turn the sceptred isle into a third world pit just to spite the working class was unimaginable 70 years ago and is not common knowledge even now.

Embarrassingly for their many low-church Protestant fans, both Tolkien and Lewis have complex views of spiritual revitalization. Tolkien's hobbits are awakened by the earthy spirit of kinship, not any formal religion. That Hideous Strength is at one level a novel about sex and the virile vitality of Christianity that was so offensive to feminists and is now unmentionable even among Christians. Tolkien and Lewis held the orthodox opinions of the Roman Catholic and Anglican churches and were educated in the literature and philosophy of the European tradition. They knew that the spiritual revival that saves Britain must be Christian, but desiccated, formulaic Calvinism will not suffice. The Christianity of Shakespeare, able to comprehend and enjoy the pre-Christian spirits and traditions, is still alive and ready to rule again.


  1. Somewhere between being published in God in the Dock and appearing on the word 'white' was removed from this quotation. What a surprise.