Who Am I, After All?

And what are our prospects?

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This year, I have spoken to nationalist groups in Finland, Britain, and Slovenia, and I expect to speak again in Europe in November. These meetings have made me think about what it means to be American, and about my place in our race.

Although I was born in Japan, it would be hard to be more American than I am. The first Taylor in the New World came to the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1635. Taylors fought in the Revolution, and in every war since.

They moved South in the seventeen hundreds, and every male ancestor of military age I know of fought for the Confederacy.

This country is stuffed with our bones, drenched in our blood. So, yes, dammit, I am American in ways that no newcomer can possibly be. When people pretend otherwise it just makes me laugh.

But I am also a proud son of England. The family tree that sprouted from Albion’s seed is thick with English names: Richardson, Hopper, Boggs, Webb, Tacey, Symington, Robertson, Pratt, Terry, Knight.

I speak 2-1/2 other languages, but am deeply blessed to speak English. If I were condemned to life in prison and could take only one book, it would be the annotated works of Shakespeare.

I love France and grieve to think of the centuries my kinsmen spent slaughtering Frenchmen, but 15 years ago when I set foot on Horatio Nelson’s flagship, HMS Victory, I felt tears start in my eyes.

I thought of Nelson’s last order to the fleet: “England expects that every man will do his duty.”

That day, I was an Englishman, and would have done my duty.

And yet, I have a larger loyalty. Every meeting with European comrades feels like a family reunion. Even though I have never met most of them before, every man and woman is like a brother or sister, dedicated, as I am, to the survival and to the glory of our people. I may be a Confederate, an American, and an Englishman, but I am also a European.

Michelangelo and Beethoven and Tolstoy belong to me, just as much as Shakespeare belongs to them.

We are part of what I call The World Brotherhood of Europeans that unites whites as far-flung as South Africans, Australians, and Canadians. This is why a Finn, of whose language I don’t speak one word, is part of my family in ways a non-white with a US passport can never be.

Except for a few East Europeans, all of us face identical challenges: replacement, low birth rates, denatured churches, hostile media, corrupt rulers, traitorous elites, depraved universities.

All of us consider the same solutions: How much can be achieved through politics? Through meta-politics? How to channel the rising anger of awakening white people?

And every time I meet with fellow Europeans, I think what a joy it is to have such fine young people in our ranks.

It’s impossible to know how long it will take or how it will happen, but I can’t help being confident that with so many people coming our way, and so much energy going into the fight, the future of our race will someday be secure, fortified against all threats.

I may not live to see that day, but young people surely will. Our future is still cloudy, but it looks brighter every day.