A former civic nationalist writes to tell of his experience of discovering his white identity, much to his dismay.
I’m a recent reader of your site, and its been a boon to my ability to put language to the “race realism” I have been aware of and experienced over the course of my life. I’ve experienced first-hand the truth that race+proximity=war. The Soviet collapse brought Eastern European migrants to my Columbus, Ohio school district. These in turn formed a criminal mob, pooled resources, and bought all kinds of property. I lived across the street from a group that bought the church there. Kenyans, Somalis, and Mexicans also flocked to my area, crashing the school district, trashing the surrounding areas. Ghettos spread, crime spread, and people divided along racial lines at school, often resulting in fights. School became prison where white people were not permitted to defend themselves. This planted the seed of race realism, as you term it, though it would be many years before it germinated.
I married into a Baha’i family, and adopted the religion despite growing up as a Christian. Things were more or less fine until I had Baha’i friends who were Mexican, Japanese, and Iranian turn on me along racial lines and prevent me from participating in conversations about race/white privilege, etc…even though the religion espouses the belief that the Earth is but one country and mankind its citizens…they were not aware of the monumental irony or hypocrisy. Or how enraging it was that they live in my country, enjoying the fruits of what my forefathers built, and are more successful than I am, while simultaneously excluding me from important political/cultural discourse.
Baha’i is a religion for multi-culti liberals, and white people are gradually being shunted out of it. I discovered here that I hadn’t ever stopped being a follower of Christ, and that the simplicity of His words, deeds, and example appeal ever more to me than their pseudo-intellectual, religiously dressed-up, UN-worshipping, secular humanist, Israeli-apologist “faith”. I turned my back on these people.
My experience in the Army was not much better. In my training class of 230, whites were outnumbered by minorities, and my mestizo drill sergeant, who was a straight-up no-apologies killer, resembled more the visage and character of a cartel guy than an apple-pie Uncle Sam man. Both black drill sergeants were post-thug, but explicitly black. The female drill sergeants were either male-hating feminists, or resembled a man more than a woman in manner and appearance. The two white ones were war-weary and half-crazed, one being a rampant alcoholic. It was a total shit show, where the racial lines were barely hidden by a forced civic nationalism. That civic nationalism I dared to believe in and live out almost got me killed later. I discovered it to be a dangerous breeding ground of lies and illusions, not typically shared by members of minority groups. They didn’t share the weight of the chains I took up in the name of service to them and my supposed fellow country men. That realization broke me.
Recently, my family got caught in the sizeable crossfire of black-on-black gang violence. These people live half a mile from me, and their petty tribal violence keeps spilling out into my neighborhood. The Nu Black Power group in town has members who support their gangland “warriors”. I can do very little about this because I have no tribe and the law is against me. Some of my ever smaller group of friends have turned on me over my reaction to that event. I was forced to become explicitly white that day for the sake of my wife and children.
Everything that I’ve read of yours about these things, I have experienced first-hand. Everything I formerly believed is gone. I have no land, no flag, and I have no tribe.
What is he to do, he asks? There are only ever three choices. Run, fight, or surrender. That is a choice that every man has to make for himself. And if you will not surrender, have nowhere to run, and no tribe with whom to fight, then you have to either make or find one.
It’s a very sad situation. I would even say it is tragic considering how totally unnecessary it was and how easily it could have been avoided. But I’m not even a little surprised, because I’ve been pointing out that the USA is stone-dead for more than 13 years. If you want to better understand what has happened, and why we are now where we are today, then you might want to consider acquiring a copy of the newly published hardcover edition of the first volume of my collected columns, Innocence & Intellect, 2001-2005, for future reference. It has turned out to be an inadvertent history of America’s decline at the very moment of its supposed triumph.
Tibetan religious tradition has it that when the Dalai Lama dies, the Buddha of Compassion leaves his body and incarnates in the body of a young child. The monks immediately go out in search of this blessed child, and when they find him – as they inevitably do – he is tested by a group of high lamas and enthroned as the reincarnation of his successor.
Imagine, however, if the lamas refused to recognize that the Dalai Lama was, in fact, dead. Suppose that instead of going in search of the Buddha’s new carnal home, they hooked the corpse up to a life support machine and waited patiently for the Holy One to awake and rise up. It’s not hard to see that they would be doomed to disappointment, and furthermore, would fail to find the next Dalai Lama as well.
This is precisely our dilemma today, for America, as envisioned by the Founding Fathers, is dead. By every measure, large and small, the original vision of limited government by, for and of the people has been folded, spindled and mutilated beyond recognition. When one reads the Constitution, one simply marvels at the distinct difference between its words and our present reality.