1,009 words
New Delhi
6 June 1979
Dear Comrade,
I think I wrote to you in reply to your letter of 15th March 1979 — I say “think” for I know I often forget things. Sign of premature senility?? I am 74 (or nearly). My mother was 74 when, in 1939, Mr. Mukherji gave me his name and protection so that I should not be interned (as were then all non British-Indian subject of my ideas, which were well-known, as I used to lecture in public, and had been doing so for years). And yet my mother had a good memory to the last (she died at the age of 96).
I remember dates, however. I cannot forget this is the day (6th June) the Americans landed in Normandy — nor that the night of tomorrow (7th June) to the 8th, the Seven, the last so-called “war criminals” to get a death sentence applied to them, were hanged by order of the Americans in 1951. (I had sent a telegram of 44 words to President Truman asking for clemency. I had also written to High Commissioner MacCloy telling him that I was just as ardently National Socialist as any of the Seven, and in their place would have done what they did — or worse — and therefore that I was willing — would only be too glad — to be hanged in their place, be it the place of one of them (say that of Otto Ohlenorf, that leader of the D “Einsatzgruppe,” who spoke so splendidly during his trial). And what do you think the silly American High Commissioner did? He wrote to me, and sent me a booklet with an account of each one of the Seven’s career, and told me that “If only I knew” (as though I did not know it! — what damned cheek on his part!) what they had done, I should never have intervened in their favor. There is an instance for you showing why I never could have hoped American could react as Romans — even as degenerate Seleucids or Lagids, some of whom still had grandeur in them. A Roman would have accepted my offer, rather than have all Germany curse him and his Allies for the hangings. And I should have gone to Landsberg singing for joy and pride.
(Mind you, a Catholic priest — ex-internee in a concentration camp in addition — also offered his life in place of that of the Seven, but out of “Christian love,” not out of NS solidarity.)
Do you know Dimitri Merejkowski’s books on Emperor Julian and on Leonardo da Vinci? (There is a third called Peter and Alexis — the struggle between old Russia and “new” Russia under Peter, wrongly called “the Great.” I have tried all my life to get it, but with no success. Would give any price for it.)
I am just now (in French translation) re-reading for the nth time Julian the Apostate and re-living that horrible atmosphere of the 4th century AD. Mind you the first book I wrote in English — in 1939 — (published in Calcutta by the Hindu Mahasabha) was dedicated
To divine Julian
Emperor of the Hellenes and of the Romans
(360-363 AD)
may future India help his impossible dream to become a living reality from one Ocean to the other
(Alas! I was as mistaken concerning the post-“independence” Hindus as you were concerning the post-1945 Americans. The revival of our pagan values shall not come from them — too few of them really uphold them — but from the people of German stock, if ever they wake up, unite, and by any means, foul or fair, squash the power of the International Jew and his satellites: the UN, the USA, Western Europe, and the Communist bloc — all of them (perhaps taking advantage of a Sino-Russian conflict).
The only Americans I love are my comrades living in the USA, whether members of the NSWPP or not. If they and the White élite — the Aryan élite — of the rest of the world fail, then truly I should welcome a Planet Earth without mankind, with forests and jungles re-grown, and lovely big felines (tigers, lions, leopards, panthers — enormous cats I so love!) prowling about under the ferns and lapping fresh water from pools between mossy rocks.
In the meantime my cats (I have 5 “toms”; my 3 females all had kittens, so as I could not keep 20 cats in one room, I sent them, kittens and all, to the “Animals’ Friend,” a home for creatures in New Delhi, founded by Crystal Rogers, an English woman, now run by a German woman [Miss Rogers is more than 80]). They are well looked after there. But I send money for them of course: 5 rupees (8 rupees = 1 dollar) a day per cat. It is a lot for me, but the cats are better there under the trees than in one stuffy room (50 degrees centigrade in the shade!)
Hope my long letter is not boring you. Now it is at an end. I am going to continue reading Julien l’Apostat, although I know the book by heart. It makes me feel that I am still lucky to live now rather than 16 hundred years ago — or even 900 years ago, when the purest part of Europe — the North — Scandinavia, Iceland — was being infected by the Christian disease.
It also makes me feel so pleased. I spoke of Julian — and of later Hypatia (370-415 AD) the pagan martyr. The Christians of Alexandria, excited by Peter the Reader (Petros ho anagnôstês) and Cyril, the so-called “Saint,” stripped her and scraped her flesh off her bones alive in 415 AD because Orestes, the governor of Egypt, used to protect the pagans out of regard for her.
I spoke of them in lectures in Bengali or Hindi (in Bihar, Bengal, and Assam). In Sadhya, Assam, from the heights of which I could see the Chinese border — i.e., on the very edge of the “yellow” world — I spoke to Hindus and told them how the Western Aryan faiths — sisters of their own — were killed, and how Julian and a few others defended them. I am glad I did so.
With the salutation of the faithful,
Savitri Dêvi Mukherji