Smash through the walls of the historical quarantine zone and gaze upon the mirror of history and you will find looking back at you not outlaws and brigands, but a reflection of yourself and your ancestors. Take a ride with General Lee, relive the Templar’s thunderous charge for glory at the Siege of Antioch, fall into the ranks of the 270,000 Rhodesians who defied a whole continent and global order. Raise your Confederate battle flag, don your Templar cross, listen to a Rhodesian folk song – don’t allow the state to try and steal your heritage and your soul. No matter how many history books they rewrite or mountains they dynamite, they cannot extinguish the European story because it lives on in us. Yet if we do not rediscover our will to resist, that story may have reached its final chapter. The Crusader, the Colonist, and the Confederate are all manifestations of our excesses both of valour and stubbornness. They are a trifecta of the European soul. Learn from their successes and discard their failures, because while they didn’t succeed in reaching their dreams – we must march ever onwards towards our own.
Michel Foucault is one of the best known anti-structuralists – sometimes known as postmodernists – in both history and philosophy. Poststructuralism is primarily concerned with power in that nothing, not science, not music, not medicine, is bereft of power relations. Every socially significant object exists because its fought a Darwinian war for primacy and won. Because of this, everything is the result of coercion of some type.
Their great weakness is their solipsism. They cannot turn their own method against themselves. The fact that the world’s most prestigious universities and old money foundations have spent billions on this movement suggests that they too are the creation and manifestation of power. Jean Baudrillard said as much about him, yet the pot and kettle are both black. It is difficult to consider a wealthy professor, driving around town in a jaguar, as an “outsider.” Yet, Freshmen are told to think just this every semester.
Identity isn’t something we can escape from. We can’t take a hot shower and hope that the color of our skin has been washed off in the process. Everyone: from a triracial Brazilian to a Finnish Laplander or a Trobriand Islander to an Alaskan Inuit is the result of untold milennias worth of biological history, each gene telling the story of some long-forgotten ancestor only half-remembered in some mythmoteur or in the yellowing pages of a family photo album.