Douglas Mercer
In his most recent book Individualism and the Western Liberal Tradition (2019), Kevin MacDonald writes that, alone among the races, Whites are prone to forming what he calls “moral communities” which take the place of kinship communities. We see this in the anti-White Whites of today; we saw it in the “civil rights” era. And we saw it in spades (pun intended) in the anti-slavery movements of the 19th century. And out-anti-Whiting all other anti-White Whites was a coterie of Bostonians who struggled prodigiously to undermine everything their ancestors gave them. In his book MacDonald pays close attention to the Transcendentalists, those naïve thinkers who, among other things, congregated around the failed experiment known as Brook Farm in search of communal living combined with easy sex.
They were the hippies of their day, with a Boston Brahmin accent. MacDonald says that what fascinates him about this group is that they were wholly untouched by Jewish influence; yet everything that the Jews would unleash on us was present in them, at least in embryo:
…universalism over particularism, anti-traditional thinking, and a horror of the sins of their fathers. It was Wagner who noted that even the parasite Jews had to have something dead or dying to feed on: “It is only when the inner death of a body becomes apparent that exterior elements have the power to seize on it; though only to destroy it. Then it is, maybe, the flesh of the body is transformed into something like swarming worm life; and who then would dare to assert that it continues to live?”
This perfectly describes these Boston creators of “moral communities”; this perfectly describes these anti-White Anglo-Saxons. They sided, they claimed, with “the human race” — and were an eternal shame to their own.
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John Brown’s ancestors on both sides had lived in America since the 1650s.
He was colonial America, heritage America, to his core. But when Black savage Elridge Cleaver was cleaving off all of the White heroes from his version of history, he had occasion to say: “With such exceptions as John Brown there has been very little reason for a black man to respect a white man.” Such ignominy — to be the one White man whose reputation will survive in post-White America, to be so heralded by a vicious enemy of your people. But then Brown was a vicious enemy of his people too.
Brown’s father, in the grips of Christian delusion, taught his children that “all God’s creatures are equal,” and, unlike many of the anti-slavery Whites, he truly believed it. That teaching launched him on his mission; going to Kansas and butchering White men at the behest of Blacks; getting up a small army and trying to occupy federal property in hopes of getting weapons to arm Blacks in their “freedom struggle” which included murdering as many White people as they could get their hands on. He was an admirer of Nat Turner, the killer of scores of White people, and he sought nothing less than to ignite thousands of Nat Turners, and have them kill hundreds of thousands of Whites. Something to make the charnel house of Haiti look like a Sunday picnic. At that time America was yet to go quite around the bend, so they sent in Robert E. Lee and stopped him — cold.
And those Bostonians? Sitting in their well-appointed parlors on Beacon Street, they posed as ladies and gentlemen whom you would never suspect of having blood on their hands, but as they dreamed of “one world” and continued to get more and more overwrought about slavery, they surely had blood on their minds. The “Secret Six” were a group of New Englanders who funded Brown’s maniacal anti-White raid on Harper’s Ferry. They were: Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Samuel Gridley Howe, Theodore Parker, Franklin Benjamin Sanborn, Gerrit Smith, George Luther Stearns. A veritable roster of Anglo-Saxondom. Anglo-Saxondom gone to seed, and to the devil. Only among a certain breed of White man can such insanity persist. They are the anti-White Anglo-Saxons.
Not to be outdone, Ralph Waldo Emerson sent his reputation down three trillion notches by his response to Brown. As if in ecstasy, Emerson said that Brown was “The saint, whose fate yet hangs in suspense, but whose martyrdom, if it shall be perfected, will make the gallows as glorious as the Cross.” So much for him.
But amidst all of this New England ethnomasochism there is one ray of light. Nathaniel Hawthorne never really fit in with the Transcendentalists. His stay at Brook Farm was brief and disappointing to him. As a deep believer in the existence of sin, he could never share their sunny outlook on “all humanity.” He was a hard man with clear eyes and knew better.
Hawthorne was also a racialist, as was his wife, something which generations of American English teachers apparently don’t know
One night, one of his do-gooder, all-the-world-is-equal friends came to dinner. He hadn’t told the Hawthornes beforehand, but, in the spirit of the times, he had brought a Black man with him to the dinner. The Hawthornes were appalled. But he, being an impeccable gentleman, and she, being an impeccable lady, said nothing during the meal. When it was over, they bade their friend good night. Alone, the great writer turned to his wife, shuddering, and remarked on the terrible odor they had had to endure. Hawthorne never spoke to that friend again.
Hawthorne was repulsed when he heard of the doings of John Brown. No glowing tribute flowed from his pen for the vicious White-hating maniac. He was not a part of the “moral community” beginning to metastasize around the issue of slavery and eclipse the kinship community of race in the North. No, he was no anti-White Anglo-Saxon.
He did not think that the gallows where Brown was hung was the “new cross.” In fact, he said that when it came to the loathsome Brown, “Nobody was ever more justly hanged.”
