Recently there was a great deal of rancour – especially from a particularly disruptive online individual – in relation to Andrew Brons’ decision not to found yet another Nationalist political party. He was admonished by some for “just wanting see out his days as an MEP and retire” or words to that effect. Mr Brons had never alluded to the prospect of a new party (apart from putting the proposal to a vote during a recent Nationalist conference) and so cannot be considered disingenuous in any respect. Furthermore, I would not blame the man for simply wishing to carry out his obligations as an elected representative of Britain in Brussels nor even for seeking a long, possibly permanent, sabbatical should he not stand for re-election.
For over four decades, Andrew Brons has been involved to some degree or another in our movement. From 1980 to 1984 he was the leader of the National Front and he is now one of only two European Members of Parliament ever to be elected on an overt racial Nationalist ticket (yes, most of us know about ‘Mr Chairman’ but the public do not). In anyone’s ‘book’ he most assuredly has done his stint. However, obnoxious personages claiming to be patriots – although whose presence is almost solely felt online – have written articles referring to Mr Brons as being a “damp squib” and other thinly veiled jibes. They then, eventually, bemoan the lack of genuine leaders and call out for a hero. I suspect that they also cry themselves to sleep and hide under the table on bonfire night.
Do not misunderstand me, I am not an avid supporter of Andrew Brons, in fact I was not even aware of him until only a few years ago – I have not followed the inner workings of the BNP for more than ten years. But when a seemingly decent individual is deriding in this manner it does raise my suspicions. It also interests me when worthless men write longingly about wanting leaders and heroes. What is this lust for primacy and why do giant egotists, who for months can produce nothing but cyber assaults on other Nationalists, curl up after teatime in their favourite armchair and consider wistfully the need for directorship (or should that be domination)?
My observation is as follows. Most men, especially those who proclaim to possess all the answers or at least an excess of bile, are incapable of actually achieving anything. They partake in the occasional outburst but then they shy back and quietly pray that a saviour will materialise, a strong man able to “take them away from all this”. We need heroes because we do not have the courage of our convictions; we require leaders because we do not have the determination to see anything through until the bitter end. Most men would crack under extreme rendition (torture) but many loud-mouthed individuals paying lip-serve to our cause seem to crack under their own ineptitude, cowardice and inadequacies. In the dead of night, these spectral remnants of masculinity whisper to whichever fictional character they believe in before the overwhelming fear of their own mortality consumes them.
Why should strong men require a leader, or at least be governed by males that cannot prove their ability to overcome their peers both mentally and physically? The establishment’s definition of leadership is the propensity for slyness; they must cut a slick, presentable image; they must be wealthy. The modern statesman must have an aptitude to grovel on his belly, lie through his teeth and connect with the common man. In short, he is no leader in the true Aryan sense of the interpretation. Any man that needs physical human guidance and representation before he is willing to fight for the survival of his own kind has fallen far short of the definition that his gender denotes. We should not need inspiration. All we require is the struggle, the cause and one more breath in our lungs.
We are an anaemic vision of our former selves, of our antecedents, and because we understand this, albeit subconsciously, we beg for leadership. This is a pitiful trait and it should not be garnered or encouraged. When I read passages on websites, whose titles, strap lines and banners are concise, tough and resistant to the Liberal multicultural drivel pumped over us like stinking effluent, with appellations such as “Holding out for a hero” or “50 million Britons and not one single leader” I can truly appreciate why our country has been invaded and why we are losing a global war of fecundity, morality and sanity. We act as if we were already beaten – no, it is even more detestable than that! We have practically accepted the status of eunuchs in a harem dominated by our racial enemies; our last remaining desire is to either be saved by a hero or at least avoid the merciless lash of the thong as we cower behind plush silken curtains.
Related: On leadership (again)