In the dull sky, above the greenish sea, out of the mist, appeared a great red Disk. And with their mighty wings wide-open to resist the bitter blowing wind, the screaming gulls passed by. And there stood I, upon the upper deck. As far as I could see: the rolling waves under the rising Sun, bright red and without rays. All I could hear: the howl of the cold wind,2 the seagulls’ dismal cry. And there stood I upon the sea, nearing the coast of Europe after days of voyage—after years of absence—and thinking of the horror of existence among the fools and criminals who hated Thee.3
Less than a thousand miles away from where the steamer sailed, I knew Thy Fatherland now lay under the victors’ heel—a stretch of devastated continent; I knew the millions who hailed Thy holy name all through these years, now walked in silence and hunger along the Way of blood and tears. And indignation, hate,4 and anger grew at that thought within my heart. For though I could imagine the great inexorable Wheel of Destiny, slowly and steadily, rolling on and avenging us, one day, I knew the blessed hour was yet too far away for me to feel it coming. And I wept. But as I saw the Disk so gorgeous in the midst of wind and fog, above the sea, “The everlasting Sun,” thought I, “has never failed!” And so, while all lies Waste at our persecutors’ feet, the everlasting Truth Thou hast proclaimed remains and shines, although ignored, unaltered above ruin and defeat. And in my heart once more [I] worshipped thee.
Darker and darker grew the mist; dimmer and dimmer grew the sight of railway road and countryside, of suburbs and of city. And night succeeded day. So near and yet so far away, again the blood-red Disk hung in the dull grey sky. And day succeeded night.
The story of my brothers’ humiliation, presented as a talk of victory, was shouted out to me unceasingly, from private and from public places, from morn to sunset and from then to morn, along with nauseating sermons about “rights,” freedom, and human dignity,5 and our “re-education,” so that a “better world” could dawn for all men of all races . . . and evil, jewish-looking6 faces would grin at me while they insulted Thee. And thus the long nightmare dragged on . . . and on.
The long nightmare . . . the vision of the ruins of thy new Reich that was to us the one inspiring Force of Western Aryandom, its only living Soul; the vision of our foes now able to enforce their lying “liberty” upon the world, from pole to pole;7 of our foes, complacent tools within the hand of the almighty Jew, gloating over the charred and blasted walls, the miles and miles of martyred Land, that had been happy Germany, and in the name of christendom,8 inviting us to become fools like they themselves, and to forsake all that we hold as truth now and forever; the vision of the felling of the great holy woods—ten thousand trees a day—and of the factories blown up or steadily dismantled and bit by bit carried away; and above all, more sinister than all,9 and more heart-rending, day after day, for months unending, the news of the infamous Trial10—of the long torture of the Twenty-One, and of the condemnation on that most shameful day in all the long life of the West,11—and then, in the dim light of the following morning, the vision that will stay vivid within our hearts until we die, a thing of indignation and of horror: fluttering in the wind, the bodies of the best of those who, at thy side, had led [the] German Nation along the way of pride!12 The vision of the end of all we loved and wanted; of all we hade been living for; the knowledge that, in the wide world, that we had nearly conquered, there was no hope of our return to power, nay, no place for us ever more!
Our truth might Win, one day, but when? In the meantime, Thy hallowed Reich lay torn and devastated. Thy greatest followers were dead or in captivity, Thy people hated; Rebels against the downward rush of Time, all those who still revered Thee, were foreigners in every clime,13 exiles upon this earth, if not, with fury unabated, crushed in the name of “liberty.” How long? How long would all this last? No one could tell. Apparently, for every one of us, this world had become hell, and was to remain so, forever.14
But when Thy foes cried out to us: “Give up your Leader’s Faith, and take to ours and be free to come and go,15 to buy and sell,16 to speak and write!” we answered: “Never! Disciples of the Child of Light whether in ruin or in glory, faithful to Him whatever you might say or do,—‘faithful when all become unfaithful’—we [would] rather die with Him than rule with you! We [would] rather be defeated, knowing we fought for what is right, than share the comforts of the fools whom Israel has cheated; we [would] rather sink into the starless night of dreary day-to-day oblivion, knowing ourselves to be without fault in our Leader’s sight, than yield to you and share your hated might!”
* * *
The long nightmare dragged on and on . . . But in its midst, though no ray of hope had shone,—though we knew not whether we were again ever to rise,—our will to stand in spite of all against the money-power, and to resist; our will never to compromise, was like a ray of fire; a ray of fire in the dark night before dawn.
1 “Truly, these heroes deserved a monument: ‘Wanderer, you who come to Germany, tell your homeland that here we lie, true to the fatherland and obedient to duty’” (Mein Kampf, 1939 edition, p. 224)—trans. R.G. Fowler.
3 Savitri actually returned to Europe in November 1945, embarking on 2 November 1945 from Bombay and disembarking on 15 November in Southampton, where she took the boat train to London. Savitri relates other events from her return-voyage to Europe in “Heliodora’s Homeward Journey,” chapter 6 of Long-Whiskers and the Two-Legged Goddess, or the true story of a “most objectionable Nazi” and . . . half-a-dozen cats (Calcutta: Savitri Devi Mukherji, 1965).
5 Reading “‘right’freedom and human dignity” as “‘rights,’ freedom, and human dignity.”
6 Not capitalizing “jewish” in accordance with Savitri’s practice elsewhere in the typescript.
8 Savitri does not capitalize “christendom,” perhaps for the same reason she does not capitalize “jewish.”
9 Inserting commas around “more sinister than all.”
10 The Nuremberg War Crimes Tribunal.
11 Capitalizing “west” according to Savitri’s practice elsewhere in the typescript.
12 Savitri is referring to the 15th and 16th of October 1946.
14 Inserting a paragraph break here.