by Savitri Devi

Edited by R.G. Fowler

This is the thirteenth chapter of Savitri Devi’s previously unpublished book Forever and Ever.

In transcribing and editing these texts, I have translated the German epigraphs, corrected any spelling and grammatical errors, and “Americanized” and updated the spelling. I have not altered Savitri’s sometimes eccentric capitalization practices. Nor have I altered her punctuation, although I have pruned her sometimes long ellipses down to three dots each. Editorial additions, omissions, and substitutions are indicated with notes. All notes are by the editor.

 —R. G. Fowler

XIII.

1948
______

“. . . die Menschen gehen nicht an verlorenen Kriegen zugrunde, sondern am Verlust jener Widerstandskraft, die nur dem reinen Blute zu eigen ist.”

—Mein Kampf¹

Ruins, ruins, and still more ruins . . . unending rows of crumbling walls; deserted streets in which lay heaps of wreckage;² stations of which the charred and gaping halls open to wind and rain, led out to further sights of devastation; and in the midst of all that desolation, the haggard faces of Thy countrymen: of those who to the bitter end, had fought for Greater Germany her power to retain, for us to behold, under Thy strong protection, the long-awaited Western Resurrection; thus stretched over hundreds of miles before my eyes, the torn and bleeding body of Thy nation. Under the purple glow of dawn or sunset, under the phosphorescent light of the full moon, under the lonely Crescent in the midst of cloudy sky, under the splendor of the starry night, always and everywhere the same heart-rending sight: ruins, ruins,³ and further ruins; all that was left of Thy proud Reich;⁴ all that was left of Thy great life’s creation; all that was left of Thy astounding might!

My Leader! Thou hadst seen, with Thy own eyes, those town ablaze and Thou hadst seen the charred⁵ walls still smoldering, the twisted iron bars still hot, the very earth itself, soaked through with phosphorus, still burning on, for days and days;⁶ and Thou hadst seen the corpses of Thy people—those who love and trusted Thee, and whom Thou lovest—stuck in the molten tar of Those now long-deserted streets, in which they had just met a most appalling fate;⁷ and from the cellars, thou hadst smelt the stench of death!

Who can, in any tongue, relate Thy immeasurable torment? In a flash, wherever I went, I pictured to myself Thy worn and tragic Face, against the background of that horror brought upon Thy dear Germany by the enemies of our race and their allies, the traitors, slaves of Jews. My heart full of relentless hate, I saw in the very midst of her towns in ashes, their brand new, vulgar “Clubs of Victory,” and, before Thy famishing people, their soldiers reveling and gluttony and luxury. And every day I heard the selfsame news: systematic destruction of everything Thou hadst done; further death-sentences against Thy true disciples, and further misery, and further humiliation for all those who, along with them, had fought under the blood-red Banner, bearing the most-holy Wheel of the Sun.

* * *

“Ruins, ruins, and further ruins,” thought I, as I went by; “Years more of persecution, years more of martyrdom, but resurrection, and sure and terrible revenge, and lasting domination—in the long run!”

Oh, Why had I not come before, and been, along those streets, now desolate and silent, one of the millions who had greeted Thee, in Thy great days of undisputed rule, before the war? Why had I not, at least, arrived in time to fight in Thy own Land, among Thy beloved people, in defense of Thy everlasting Principles and of Thy might?—I, who had loved Thee so much more, than many of those who had seen the glory that was Thine! But now that all lay waste in mud and gore, I knew I was to be a Sign: a fiery Song of hope amidst despair, a Voice amidst the ruins: within the nightmare horror of the present fall, the Shadow of the unexpected future, and its living call. I was to stand in the sunshine, and tell Thy wounded Germany—The mute⁸ thousands who still believed in Thee, and even those who no longer did—that Thou wast right in spite of all.

And lo, as I obeyed the deep inner dictate of love and faith, and went about from place to place, first-fruits of the religious reverence of distant men of Aryan race towards both them and Thee, and whispered to Thy people at my side, however late, the mystic words of confidence and pride, I saw many a tired face look passionately up to me, as though, beyond the rows and rows of shattered walls and wreckage, and all the humiliation of the passing hour, the ardent eyes could clearly see, thanks to the magic of my message, the unbelievable return of old prosperity and power.

And as I put into their hand my written exhortation to stubborn day-to-day resistance, and quietly went on to do the same, numberless times again, throughout the Land, their glance would follow me with sympathy into the distance, and their heart would be with me wherever I would go. Not one of them betrayed me, even though they knew our persecutors would surely pay them well for doing so. In midst of utter destitution and hunger they had lived already three long years, but even so, there was no such reward, no such temptation, as could prompt them to help the standing foe⁹ against the faithful friend. And lo, brushing aside all fears, they took me under their protection, and I would come and I would go, safe in the midst of hell,¹⁰ and keep on bearing witness to Thy¹¹ glory: of all Thy¹² eighty million countrymen not one would tell the enemy what I had said and¹³ done; and all was well.

How many times have I not then, with tears, standing before the ruins,¹⁴ thought of Thy Reich of recent years! How many times have I not, then, remembered the glorious weeks, when, from the remote East, my mind and heart rushed forth to meet Thy coming host! Now that Thy land in ashes lay dismembered,—four hated victors’ prey,¹⁵—now that, outwardly, all was lost, I had arrived at last from far away, to fight and wait amidst the common hardships and the common dangers, I, the least among Thy faithful ones,—day after day. And of Thy starving countrymen,—of those now silent eighty million whose voice had cheered Thee in the past—not a single one had been willing my humble effort to betray!

Even more so than in the days of Glory, I loved them even more so than when, along the way to snow-clad Caucasus and to the Caspian, Thy armies marched in conquering array; even more so than when I had awaited their coming through the Khyber Pass.

For three long years, with fury unabated, the evil jewish force had sought to crush that spirit which had wrought such wonders in Thy name. But I had come and I had fought only to see, erect and free, in faces emaciated, in thousands of proud eyes radiated, fearless and without blame, the German Soul, always the same.

And suddenly, as in a dream, my mind flew back to one great scene twenty-four centuries ago: on his death-bed in Babylon, I heard the prince of Macedon tell coming generations the Gods’ decree that they should know, and give “the worthiest,” once and for all, the domination of the world.

And from the bottom of my heart, in boundless admiration, I hailed in those who stood the test, “the worthiest” in the full sense of Alexander’s word, and in thy superhuman Nation, the future ruler of the West.