BY ALEX STORY
Satan, in Hebrew, means the “accuser”.
He is the archetype who brands the innocent from the moral soapbox he built on the highest ground, the better to cow the sheepish multitudes.
To mask his crimes, he fixes his venomous gaze upon a blameless bystander and smears him: first to separate the individual from the rest, and then to convince the crowd that he is the source of all of society’s troubles.
In so doing, the infernal accuser isolates the victim and deprives him of defenders, the better to arouse in the mob a blind hatred so strong that it willingly destroys him, dipping its communal hands in the unfortunate’s proverbial blood.
At malevolence’s peak, everyone then sets “upon the victim without having to fear the least reprisal”, as René Girard, the late French philosopher, wrote.
Indeed, what could be more sincere than the hatred they fervently feel?
In Aristotle’s words: the sacrifice is “cathartic”.
It purifies momentarily. All tensions disappear.
Once done, the accuser moves on to seek another prey, leaving only ruin and destruction in his wake.
Now he has picked on the Briton, who stands accused.
All ills on the planet are his fault: writing the Magna Carta and the subsequent Bill of Rights, fighting to end slavery, wearing grey socks with sandals, inventing the steam engine, the telegraph, comedy, amazing music, and, lest we forget, team sports such as football, rugby, and cricket, among others.
Without these, modern man’s cigarette breaks would happen in silence, tumbleweed awkwardly blowing past him and his bored colleagues at the stroke of the hour.
All scandals, in short, emanate from him.
The truth, though, is the biggest one of all.
It must be obliterated.
There is no other choice: to study it would prove the Briton’s innocence, instantly dismantling the accuser’s sought-after earthly powers and blocking the path to a moral- and commitment-free “progressive world”.
This New World can only be reached if logic and rational thought are eschewed.
As Nietzsche posited, logic and rational thought are just “stratagems of the rabble” to slow down the elites—so long as the demos is free from the accuser’s seductive powers of persecution.
Democracy, you see, slows things down.
Professor John Carey summarised the German philosopher’s view thus:
“To obey one’s instincts is noble, but to obey logic” is to give way to the reactionary masses.
Top-down emotionalism must replace the brambles of logic.
Traditions, culture, oikophilia—that is, the love of our inherited home—are the fertile soil in which conservative, weed-like obstructions grow.
Importantly, these flourish in our fertile minds, having penetrated our intellectual DNA over countless generations.
As a result, the Briton’s rational and logical definition of himself is as simple and as powerful as a punch: we are who we are because of who we were; we aim to be just that in the future.
On that basis, for power-hungry and deceitful accusers, the past must be rewritten.
In that fiction, the blameless innocence, compassion, and tolerance of the Briton are proof of his evil nature.
The infernal accuser never ceases, growing in strength with every deception.
So persistent has he been that the perverse alchemy of turning good into evil has succeeded.
The process took decades to reach its apotheosis.
Indeed, the feeling that the country was under attack from internal, not external, forces was starting to become the subject of heated political discussions in the early 1970s.
The technique of the Establishment for changing our society against our wishes, it was felt at the time, was simple but effective.
It was to repeat “manifest absurdities as if they were self-evident truths”:
Diversity is our strength;
Children are a burden;
Sovereignty can be pooled;
and, Some women have penises.
By dint of constant repetition of these absurdities, echoed and amplified by all the organs of the media, the majority would be reduced to a condition in which they finally mistrust their own senses and “surrender their will” to the manipulator, repeating automatically the deadly sentence: “you can’t say that”.
Dumbstruck, the majority would become isolated and turn itself, unwittingly, into the sacrificial lamb.
In this process, the BBC would play a lead role in Britain’s downfall.
In April 1968, Lord Luton, the then-Chairman of the BBC, spoke to the Guild of Newspaper Editors in Scarborough.
He said: “In talking about the BBC’s obligation to be impartial, I ought to make it clear that we are not impartial about everything.”
The BBC, he said, would be partial on “crime” and “race hatred”.
“Odd,” some thought.
Guilt or innocence for an alleged crime is established in a court, not by a malicious accuser “on telly”; and “hatred”, though a sin, is not a crime.
In fact, love and hate are complex matters.
Not so for the BBC.
Lord Luton would a priori judge the motives of his fellow Britons, reducing all to one single but deeply evil, mendacious one: “race hatred”.
As the father of all lies, the BBC never looked back.
The organisation would thus become judge, jury, and executioner.
The BBC chairman picked up the first stone and threw it at his unsuspecting neighbour.
Partiality, unconstrained, allowed the BBC then, and our entire state gradually, to pick a side.
Which one?
That of the accuser.
As the state’s capacity for patronage grew, along with our debt load, it paid to be on his side.
That partiality, reinforced with the passage of time, strengthened him beyond measure, removing any need for discernment and civility in his dealings with his fellow, perhaps less well-heeled, countryman.
So successful has this process been that our own flag has become “offensive” to subsidised officials.
In such circumstances, Britons need to find a Paraclete—an advocate, so to speak—to defend us against our demented accusers, who want to sacrifice us on the altar of their malicious project.
It might well be that our faith cannot be placed in any one “prince” or individual.
The day seems too far gone for such quixotic hopes.
It is a case, perhaps, of realising that it is we, as individuals, who are that collective advocate—Burke’s little platoons—whose duty it is to awake once more.
As a start, we must rediscover that sanctified spirit, rooted in the fertile ground of our history, that gave us so much and which we have nearly lost through a sense of misplaced trust and tolerance towards a morally bankrupt state, which has led us to acquiesce to the intolerable.
Alex Story is an Olympian, entrepreneur and writer on economic and social issues.