by Savitri Devi
Epilogue of Hart wie Kruppstahl
(Hard as Krupp Steel)
Translated by Savitri Devi
Edited by R.G. Fowler
Illustration: Red Army soldiers hoist the hammer-and-sickle flag over the Reichstag.
The preceding text, translated by Savitri Devi for publication in an American Nazi Party periodical, is an extract from the epilogue of her unpublished book Hart wie Kruppstahl (Hard as Krupp Steel), written in the early 1960s. The title “After the Deluge—We!” is a quote from Joseph Goebbels that alludes to a remark attributed to Louis XV (“Apres Moi, le dèluge,” “After me, the deluge”), which has traditionally been interpreted as a prophecy of the French Revolution. Savitri was a delegate to the 1962 WUNS conference in the Cotswold Hills, where the Cotswold Declaration was drafted. For her further recollections of the Cotswolds Camp, see And Time Rolls On: The Savitri Devi Interviews, Chapter 2, sections 2-4.
In 1945, in the “bunker” (air raid shelter) under Berlin aflame, our Führer writes his Political Testament: his last answer to the ever-nearing thunder of the Russian guns, to Eisenhower’s “Crusade to Europe,” to the stubborn fury of a whole mad world: “May my faithful ones never forget that it is the task of the coming centuries to build up a National Socialist Europe, and may they always place collective interest before their own.... May they all, Germans and non-Germans—all the forces of National Socialist Europe—remain racially conscious, and, without weakness, resist the poison that is about to kill all nations: the spirit of international Jewry.” He writes these words calmly, knowing that he is right; that the double wave of invaders—Bolshevists and hypocritical humanitarian Democrats—that will soon roll over and cover the ruins of the Third Reich, one day must recede, each half of it in the opposite direction; that there is no hell which lasts forever, and that Truth—i.e., Nature, and the doctrine that is built upon Nature’s very laws—must win in the end.
And Dr. Goebbels, the untiring Fighter, the faithful among the faithful, who has helped Adolf Hitler to build New Germany, and who is about the follow the Führer, with wife and young family, speaks from that same “bunker” for the last time to the German people and to future generations—to you, National Socialists, of today, and to those of the coming millennia—his last speech. No speech of despair—nothing of the kind, my children!—but (just as the Führer’s own Testament) the answer of National Socialism to the indifference, to the laziness, to the cowardice, to the moral wretchedness of the West, which has allowed the long disintegration process, directed by the Jews, to take place; the answer of National Socialism, after two hundred years, to the French King Louis XV, who lived only for himself and did not care whether his people survived or not1; the answer of the invincible to those who are vanquished beforehand and to the apparent victors of the day:
“After the Deluge, WE!”
My children, as I met, after the war, young German National Socialists among the ruins of all the German towns, it was clear to me that Dr. Goebbels was right, and that our Führer’s Testament would one day literally be fulfilled. Later on, as I met, in the super-prosperity of the German Federal Republic (of Dr. Adenauer) young people dedicated to Adolf Hitler, who without having lived in the splendour of the Great Days, would gladly exchange every comfort of today, every material advantage, for the freedom of greeting one another at any street corner with our salute and the words: “Heil Hitler!” I touched with my hand that future in which our Führer firmly believed till the end, that future which Dr. Goebbels proclaimed in solemn words, a few hours before his death. And as exactly a year ago, I was among National Socialists of the whole world in a forest of South-West England, and, along with them, heard Lincoln Rockwell’s speech under the stars, I was more than ever convinced of the truth of the prophetic words:
“After the Flood: WE!”
“For the first time in 6,000 years,” said Commander Rockwell, at whose side stood Colin Jordan and John Tyndall, the leaders of the National Socialist Movement in England, “for the first time in 6,000 years, we racially conscious Aryans of the whole world are united, under the leadership of one Man, forever alive in our eyes—Adolf Hitler—and under the Swastika banner, in the struggle for the survival of our blood. For the first time in 6,000 years, the international money-power faces, in us, a growing international counter-power, which fanatically challenges it, which will tomorrow lead against it the resistance of the whole world. National Socialism, the program of our only, of our everlasting, Führer Adolf Hitler, shall still be fulfilled in spite of the mad, fratricidal war of 1939-1945; the future shall be ours!”
That very Rockwell had once fought us, during the war, like so many others. He saw the truth and came to us some ten years ago. He is the symbol of a tremendous reaction, the distant consequences of which are yet unthinkable. In the background, as in the huge German gatherings of the Great Days, hung an enormous Swastika flag, lighted from the ground by torches. A row of young fighters holding torches, and the music of the Horst Wessel Song, had greeted the American Leader—founder and head of the National Socialist Movement in the USA—as he had walked into the camp. And there were Germans present: “old fighters” of the first generation, and sixteen year-old boys. It was the atmosphere—the enthusiasm, the faith, the fanaticism—of the Days of the First Struggle (before 1933): the “old” one, who knew, said so.
I remembered the horror of the years after the war: the ruins of the Third Reich, the uprooting of millions from their German homes, the despair to the point of longing for death, and then—a few years later—the gradual sinking of the masses in an ever more soul-destroying material prosperity, barring every possibility of liberating revolution, this ugly, dull period of systematic brain-washing, also belongs to “the deluge.” And then shone before me the prophetic words, out of the grave of the very best: the answer of the crumbling Third German Reich to its tragic fate, the cry of triumph of we who live for an everlasting Idea, before a material destruction which we know is only for the time being, however total it might seem:
“After the Flood: WE!”
On the next day, in that same English forest, the “World Union of National Socialists”—WUNS—was founded.
To those who tried to show him the danger of the coming French Revolution, Louis XV answered: “After us, the Deluge!” (Savitri’s note).