Then, after a while, there were too many poor. Altogether too many. Folk you didn’t even know . . . Swarming all over . . . spreading through cities, houses and homes. Worming their way by the thousands, in thousands of foolproof ways. Through slits in your mail-boxes, begging for help, with their frightful pictures bursting from envelopes day after day, claiming their due in the name of some organization or other. Slithering in. Through newspapers, radio, churches, through this faction or that, until they were all around you, wherever you looked. Whole countries full, bristling with poignant appeals, pleas that seemed more like threats, and not begging now for linen, but for checks to their account. And in time it got worse. Soon you saw them on television, hordes of them, churning up, dying by the thousands, and nameless butchery became a feature, a continuous show, with its masters of ceremonies and its full time hucksters. The poor had overrun the earth . . .
— Jean Raspail, The Camp of the Saints (1973)
For decades our governments, without any form of democratic approval, have created the predicament we now find ourselves in through false-flag wars, regime-change charades, and by blurring distinctions between legal and illegal immigration. They’ve thrown open our borders and welfare systems to manic insurgents, opportunist chancers with an eye for our women, and anyone with a high degree of melanin and a low work-ethic. They are given promises of pecuniary incentives, provided that sufficient numbers of them vote the right way, giving the social engineers the raw organic material to create their Frankenstein-like monster of a multicultural utopia. These marauders then set about advocating endlessly for their own personal, familial, and tribal benefit, using every artifice at their disposal of supposed past injustices like “colonialism” and excuses such as “white privilege” to exploit our misplaced philanthropy and misguided generosity.
This foolishness has already resulted in the proportion of non-Hispanic whites in California falling to 49%, while the total of self-identifying white British in London fell to a mere 45% in 2011. Predictions have been made that the entire US will be majority non-white somewhere around 2055-2060, while Professor David Coleman of Oxford University’s Migration Observatory has stated that the proportion of minority groups living in the UK will burgeon from the 10% recorded in 2006 to 40% by 2050, and that the “so-called” ethnic British will become an overall minority by 2070. One demographer, who didn’t want to be named for fear of being called a racist, said that “[i]t’s a matter of pure arithmetic that, if nothing else happens, non-Europeans will become a majority and whites a minority in the UK. That would probably be the first time an indigenous population has voluntarily become a minority in its historic homeland.” This is a fact that became all too apparent when Pakistani actress Mehwish Hayat recently visited the formerly British town of Bradford and commented that it was “like a mini Pakistan for me.”
Thus, we cannot tell our children and grandchildren that we were not warned of the consequences of our altruism. The United Nations has predicted that 98% of the world’s population growth until 2025 will occur in the developing nations. This has been exacerbated by traitorous politicians like the Jewess Barbara Roche, who served as Minister for Asylum and Immigration in Tony Blair’s administration in Westminster, who argued that with European populations ageing and declining, we need to make up the shortfall in the skilled-labor force with immigrants. And one can see, in almost every discussion on the broadcast media, the buzzword-trained Social Justice Warriors tiptoeing through and around the minefield of evidence that defeats their every justification for aiding and abetting this self-induced human tragedy.
Thus, we see the British theologian and poet Rowan Williams reviewing Peter Gatrell’s The Unsettling of Europe: The Great Migration, 1945 to the Present in the August 2019 issue of The New Statesman in an article euphemistically entitled “Strangers on the Shore.” It begins with the paean: “For decades Europe has alternately encouraged and punished new arrivals. Why is it so hard for us to see migrants as fellow humans?” Williams goes on to spuriously compare the current European situation with Germany having to absorb the four million displaced Germans returning from Poland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, and Romania in the aftermath of the Second World War, claiming that “few migrants have opted to be uprooted from their systems of meaning and networks of support” despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary (how many cases of benefit fraud have there been?). The former Archbishop is so blinded by his love for the exotic “other” that he studiously ignores reality, such as the fact that merely maintaining the asylum system costs the Swedish taxpayer over six billion euros per annum – even while official crime figures attribute 38% of the rapes, 30% of the murders, 26% of theft, and 21% of physical assault cases to migrants while they allegedly compose only 2% of the population. Similarly, migrants in Germany are responsible for over 15.9% of rapes, and have been convicted of gang rapes of German girls in Freiburg, Munich, and Velberg. Also, migrant knife crime has quadrupled in Baden-Württemberg since Madame Merkel’s insistence that “We can do it!,” and in Bavaria, migrant-related crime has tripled between 2009 and 2017, and currently averages over 36,000 cases per year.
And this is merely the tip of the iceberg. The number of bombs going off in Swedish suburbs has doubled since 2018; Spain has deployed 40,000 soldiers to protect tourists from terrorist threats to its holiday resorts; Italian police have arrested Moroccans with Italian passports planning suicide attacks in Rome; the French migrant camps in La Villette and Grande-Synthe are becoming increasingly unmanageable and lawless; and migrant-controlled crime and drug syndicates, which have established networks such as the so-called “county-lines” operations in the UK, which deal in heroin, cocaine, and underage girls.
So it is hardly surprising that the good will and hospitable nature of the European host population is starting to turn sour. They are fed up of being victimized and seeing their environment being degraded. Construction materials are running low, and fuel and food prices are on the rise. Even finding places at schools for their children is becoming more difficult. So it is inevitable that tensions will accumulate when they are being made to bear these costs without any visible benefits.
Meanwhile, the liberal press demonizes their only hope, the fledgling national populist movements. Witness British commentator Yasmin Alibhai-Brown of the British Foreign Policy Centre, who herself arrived during the Ugandan-Asian refugee crisis of 1972, telling us:
Only white people worry about this. It’s because for such a long time the world has been their own. To talk about it feeds a particular type of racism that says that blacks breed like rabbits. There is an underlying assumption that says white is right. . . . There is a white panic every time one part of their world seems to be passing over to anyone else. But it’s foolish to panic about it. So what if we do become a majority? What difference does it make?
Given the social, political, and economic problems we see in the African and Southeastern Asian states – not to mention the endemic corruption – it seems that it does make a considerable difference. But of course, given the tongue-numbing effects of the constant pin-prick of politically correct novocaine, few are willing to speak out. Mixed in with the twist-speak of people like Alibhai-Brown, there is another, darker motive which she gives away in her concluding comments:
The empire strikes back, really. There was this extraordinary assumption that white people could go and destroy peoples and it would have no consequence. It astounds me . . . the decline of whites is a question of redressing the balance after they colonized much of the world.
In other words, this is revenge cloaked in philanthropy. And when the writer Paul Salopek performs his Out of Eden walk, retracing the alleged trek of early humans out of Africa, and Mohsin Hamid waxes lyrically about “[t]o be human is to migrate forward through time . . . Ours is a migratory species. Humans have always moved. Our ancestors did, and not linearly, like an army out of Africa . . .” This, of course, ignores the impact this had on the Neanderthals of the new arrivals, as well as the constant invasion of Europe since the eleventh century by successive waves of Turks, Arabs, Berbers, Mongols, and Africans.
The cold, hard facts are that we are not facing a “hot war” as in the past, but a situation more analogous to a frog being slowly boiled in a pot of water. The United Nations reports that 51 million people have already been displaced by factors ranging from war and environmental collapse to economic hardship. The World Bank predicts that a further 143 million people will be uprooted by climate change by 2050. The office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees has given us the Global Compact on Refugees, which insists that environmental degradation and natural disasters are increasingly driving refugee movements. The incoming boss of Britain’s Confederation of British Industry, Karan Faridoon Bilimoria (an Indian), argues for further flexibility in the rules applying to migrant workers. And Donald Tusk, President of the European Council, has insisted that “everything is about immigration.”
Mr. Tusk is quite correct, of course, because a people that cannot hold on to their territory will not survive. This is precisely what open borders advocates wish to see happen. By using human tools like the environmental icon Greta Thunberg, these cynical and genocidal metropolitans have misappropriated and are misusing the very essence of what it is to be an environmentalist. A country’s landscape and traditional ways of life are rooted in its forests, gardens, and farms. The English very strongly identify with their countryside, with over half of voters who supported Brexit declaiming their love of nature, as opposed to only one in three Remainers. The Brothers Grimm tales speak volumes of the German affinity for nature; Americans and Russians sing praises to their frontier cowboys and Cossacks; and who would be foolish enough to stand between a brave Gaul and his vineyard?
France’s National Rally, led by Marine Le Pen, has promised to make Europe the world’s “first ecological civilization”; the party’s spokesperson, recently-elected MEP Jordan Bardella, added that “borders are the environment’s greatest ally; it is through them that we will save the planet.” This is a sentiment shared by Jared Taylor of American Renaissance, who said, “I make no apology for urging white nations to muster the will to guard their borders and maintain white majorities.”
As Stanford University biology professor Paul Ehrlich warned in his book, The Population Bomb (1968), overpopulation will fuel worldwide famine and global upheavals. The negative impact of mass immigration, unbridled population proliferation, urban sprawl, globalization, and ever-increasing pressure on housing and other essentials is coming to the fore in the West. All are intrinsically linked to increasing carbon emissions, and yet liberal environmentalists are completely focused on sabotaging Western economies and encouraging Europeans to have less children while failing to address the issues in the catastrophe’s engine room: the Third World. More racially-conscious and nationalist voices, such as The Pine Tree Gang with their catchy slogan “Bees, not refugees,” argue for reduced immigration, limits on urban sprawl and development, less global trade, and more local consumption.
These ideas jibe with those of Carl Pope, the former Executive Director of the Sierra Club, America’s largest environmental organization – which was once ideologically informed by great environmental thinkers like John Tanton, Madison Grant, and John Muir, who endorsed population stabilization and limits on immigration as far back as the 1920s. Similar ideas immediately drew charges of racism when they were repeated in 1998 and 2004 and reversed by 2013 when the club had moved so far to the left that it became an open supporter of immigration. Similar charges having been laid against groups recommending raising awareness of family planning in Africa and more eugenically oriented strategies intended to curb unbridled population increases among Third World communities.
This leads one to surmise that perhaps the liberal conservationists are more concerned about virtue-signaling their way to an apocalyptic endgame for mankind rather than attacking the root problem, because they are too uncomfortable about naming the real culprits. They would rather slip into a nirvana-like dream, as described by Mohsin Hamid, author of How to Get Filthy Rich in Rising Asia and Exit West:
Accepting our reality as a migratory species will not be easy. New art, new stories, and new ways of being will be needed. But the potential is great. A better world is possible, a more just and inclusive world, better for us and for our grandchildren, with better food and better music and less violence too.
The city nearest you was, two centuries ago, almost unimaginably different from that city today. Two centuries in the future it is likely to be at least as different again. Few citizens of almost any city now would prefer to live in their city of two centuries ago. We should have the confidence to imagine that the same will be true of the citizens of the world’s cities two centuries hence.
A species of migrants at last comfortable being a species of migrants. That, for me, is a destination worth wandering to. It is the central challenge and opportunity every migrant offers us: to see in him, in her, the reality of ourselves.
Jean Raspail’s fiction more accurately reflects the nightmare we are sleepwalking towards. The fate of the atheist philosopher Ballan in The Camp of the Saints, who rails at the outset of the book, “Passports, countries, religions, ideals, races, borders, oceans . . . What bloody rubbish!” symbolizes the naivete of all the deluded one-worlders, and the future they would force upon us all:
The silence spread out from the dock in a wave, rolling on past the harbor, as far as the innermost streets of the quarter, where the hordes kept coming to join the swelling numbers . . . Now no one could doubt that the enterprise must be divine . . . Atheist though he was, Ballan himself began to have some second thoughts as he heard the sudden clamor rise out of the crowd. Up on the bridge of the India Star, the turd eater lifted his hands toward the sky. He grasped his son by his two twisted stumps, and when he raised him high in the air with a signal-like flourish, each soul in the numberless mass thought he heard himself summoned by name . . . The rush that followed was peaceful enough, but it took its toll of dead: expendable dross on the fringe of the surging tide . . . The monster children had no trouble boarding. They were passed from hand to hand, over the heads of the crowd. But time and again the narrow, teeming gangplanks spilled over like brimming gutters into the pitch-black water between ship and pier. And many a soul sank down beneath the wooden pilings, to join those others who had gone before, the first to win the newfound paradise. Ballan was one. As the milling crowd picked up the monsters thronging about him, mouths still sticky from gorging on his sweets, he had tried to follow. But he kept falling farther and farther behind. And as he did, a link seemed to snap, that bond of flesh that had bound them to him. Now, suddenly, Ballan was just another white, spurned on all sides by those who knew him and those who didn’t. He struggled to force his way into the torrent of bodies streaming up one of the gang-planks. But the torrent became a wall, a glass-chipped wall bristling with arms, and fists, and claws, and menacing teeth . . . Ballan grasped at saris, clung to legs, felt his grip shaken loose. A pounding fist shut one of his eyes. Blood streamed down his mangled face and into his mouth. And all at once he clearly heard his lips pronounce these words – Forgive them, Lord, for they know not what they do – So saying, he opened his fingers, let go of the soft, smooth calf he was clutching, and fell from the gang-plank, halfway up, carrying off in his hand the feel of an alien flesh. His end was quick. As he sank down into the murky water, he realized how much he loved and missed the West. And that last awareness, that utter rejection of all he had stood for, so pained and distressed him, that he opened a willing mouth and took himself a healthy gulp of death . . .
The Worst Week Yet: April 4-10, 2021
The Promise & the Reality of Globalization
When They Destroy Memorials, We Raise Our Own to the Fallen
Remembering Jean Raspail (July 5, 1925–June 13, 2020)
A Strategy for Secret Agents
White People Need to Start Fucking Again
The Fantastic Fantastic Mr. Fox
L’Etranger to Himself: Race & Reality in Albert Camus’ The Stranger