Jerusalem Commands

APPENDIX

(The following transcript is taken from material not supplied by Colonel Pyat but given by him to Miss Christine Brunner who kindly gave permission to reproduce it here.

- M.M.)

If T’hami had aided Abd el-Krim in 1925, there would have been no foreign protector still in Morocco. Instead the tribes and the political rivals and the religious rivals and the blood rivals and the trade rivals would have returned to their time-honoured custom of dog eat foolish dog, and T’hami, almost reluctantly no doubt, would have emerged at last, encrusted with the blood of a hundred thousand innocents, as Tyrant of Morocco, the first true Islamic Dictator, to shake hands with his brothers in Europe. And with T’hami as an ally, would Christendom any longer have to fear Carthage? I think T’hami would have extended his Empire eastwards, yet never losing friendship with the West, gradually building a single nation from Casablanca to Suez, which would have formed a bulwark of Islamic chivalry against the savagery of the East and of Africa. If the French had allowed him his own air force rather than taking an active part in dissuading him from this policy, for one moment in history Carthage might have chosen to become the ally of Christ rather than the right hand of the Anti-Christ. It would not, in the end, be dreaming Carthage who was responsible for our defeat, but sleeping Christendom, ever ready to pacify the common enemy who had already devoured Russia, was about to devour half Europe and the mightiest nation of the East. Fromental was right to be suspicious of Islam but wrong to suspect T’hami. Now Carthage is Bolshevism’s puppy-dog just as Britain is America’s. These are the years of greed, the years of warring for the sake of war, for the sake of power alone. These are the terrible years of regression, before the final battle, when brute shall belabour brute back into the mud from which so many millions of years before we emerged. Is this to be our story? Shall this unchecked power, this irresponsible power, this profoundly pagan power, rise and rise until Christ Himself is crushed? What must we do to warn them of their folly? What can we say to them that will remind them of God’s will at the moment they see their little child’s head split like an egg under some devil’s panga? We have a duty to our religion. It brought us our wealth and our security. We have a duty to practise that religion in the name of the Son of God; a duty to live lives of maximum value to God and Man. This I have tried to do personally and I continue, in God’s name, to shoulder my responsibilities, to warn the world of what they must face if they fail to take up the Christian burden, to make that Pilgrimage of the soul through the Valley of Dread and into the light of Heaven. Each pilgrimage is personal, each private as prayer, as we ready ourselves for the perfection our Redeemer has promised. But even if we follow His path there are many who would lead us astray. I will admit I was lured into temptation during the twenties and thirties, but they were confusing times and I blame no one for what happened then, least of all myself. The Jew and the Moslem will do this, if they can. It is an instinct with them, to gnaw like Satan’s rats at the very roots of our Faith!

You have the press, the politicians and manners of a people who have lost their self-respect - you have everything you deserve. And unless you remember how to follow your best instincts you will never again find that self-respect.

I once asked the Bishop if he thought it was possible for a white man genuinely to love a black man like a brother and he said he thought it might prove an illusion in the end, because of the social pressures. Other church people have not been able to answer this question. Race is not everything, I think. After all, I owe my life to a Jew in Arcadia. It was not he who put a piece of metal in my womb, nor sowed that dreadful seed in me, nor libelled me, nor humiliated me, nor betrayed me. I am not antiSemite, I tell them, I am merely antisceptic. But they never understand these plays on words. The arts of irony and innuendo are lost to those who abuse the freedoms of democracy. Mrs Cornelius thinks I am too broad-minded for my own good but that is the way I was born, I said. What can I do? Wie lange wird es dauern? ‘I’ll get my reward in Heaven,’ I tell her. Da ma yekhessanash . . .

‘And I’ll be right beside yer, Ivan,’ she says. I used to think her mysterious laughter, which had little to do with what she said, a sign of her senility but now I think it has something to do with anxiety. I tell her she should see a doctor. NO! This is not God! NO! She lies to me. She lies to me. They must not hurt me not hurt me so. God made me promise. I did not do those things. Those things make me sick. It is not fair. I am justice and of the Just but I denied my birthright and God cursed me with blindness. I denied my people and God cursed me with the gift of lies. I would not listen to my father and God ordained that I should believe only untruths. For it is written that God shall make such just punishment upon any of the Just that shall err from his purpose. I am the lamb and the blood is my blood. He loved me in Odessa. He put a piece of metal in my womb. I have done what is unclean and I have repented. Anubis is my friend. Dieser letzte weiche Kuss, Esmé. Es war ein Schlag in den Unterleib. Ich kann noch immer die Stelle spiiren. Ein Reitgerte hebt sich und saust herab. Sie ist von jener grausamen Flut aus Asche mitgerissen worden. Sie ist ein Gespenst. Ein kinemaqueen.

How could we resist them?