When Then Was Now
Normally we associate the words “Hold you fire” with situations that seems uncertain. When we want to make sure that no one else is unnecessarily hurt. Perhaps when the battle is actually over but no one on the winning side has noticed. Or perhaps when we think someone is about to surrender. Two opposing viewpoints can be contained in this command. The trick is to know which situation confronts us.
I have been amazed with the current situation. Not with the circumstances, although certainly they are rather unique to our day. No, it is the rapidity of the unfolding of events (and the immediate disappearance of all previous matters from the front pages of The Daily Liar) that amazes me.
It has happened before. Once within my lifetime. Another in my grandfather’s time. Both were turning points in the world of revolution, which, if you haven’t noticed, is the time we live in now. I think we need to consider these two events of the past to know which situation confronts us now. And how we will know what the outcome will be.
Here is the salient question: will our military (including our militarized police forces) actually fire upon the people?
Unless we are willing to totally surrender, we are going to get an answer to that question, and rather soon I would guess. No, I am not exaggerating. This is a moment of great historical import. The point of confrontation is upon us. One side or the other will be victorious. The results of either side’s victory will be with us for generations. Ask the older Russians if you doubt this.
Why ask them? Because the first of these two occurrences happened in Russia, in 1917. Not in November of ’17. That was when the axe blade actually fell. And heads began to roll, for 70 years, and more. No, the real action was in March of ’17. Just like now. It occurred in a most curious way. A way that has been mirrored, I believe, by the second occurrence, which happened here, in 1970. At Kent State, for those who still remember.
What happened in Petersburg in ’17 was preceded by the abortive revolution in ’05, in which the military did fire upon the people. This bought 12 more years for the Romanov Dynasty. It would have been more if Stolypin hadn’t been assassinated. The point is that this act of war by the government against its own unarmed civilians produced the antibodies necessary to ensure that it would not happen again. When a seemingly similar event unfolded in early ’17, it was the previous revolt that actually neutralized the Tsar. And then eliminated his dynasty.
Russia was two years deep into WWI and the bulk of her forces were deployed against Germany to the West. The Tsar was Commander in Chief, and as such was situated towards the front, away from the capitals of Petersburg and Moscow.
The people, especially the army, had been rallied to protect the nation against the Huns. Same drill over here, but with no logical reasoning behind it, as we shared no border with Germany (or anyone else at war). But never mind, our glorious leaders found a way, as they always do. Same in Russia. External enemies have a certain charm upon people’s loyalty to the Fatherland, regardless of which tyrant rules.
The problem for Nicholas II was that he was a wimpy tyrant. Only Stolypin had saved him from the carnage in ’05. And he was gone. The remainder of the revolutionaries were still there, and they were definitely not wimps. Cowards, yes, but not wimps. There is a fine line there. Ask your nearest Jihadi about that.
Anyway, most of the people, being fixated upon the need to defend the Fatherland, were not inclined to revolution at the moment. No matter, others were. All those on the Left. And they were many. The crucial result of the abortive ’05 coup was the Tsar’s granting a legitimate existence to a Parliament of sorts. The State Duma. Strictly consultative in nature, it was not a true legislature. Nothing passed without the signature of the Supreme Leader. But this grant of existence was the beginning of the end for the Romanovs, and Russia, as they had known it for 300 years.
The Duma was populated by scads of parties, from the Octobrists (monarchists of a type) on the far right, to the Kadets (constitutional democrats) in the middle, to the Social Democrats and Social Revolutionaries on the left and far left, along with all the brands everyone knows, the Mensheviks and the Bolsheviks. And don’t forget the Jewish Bund, the Trudoviks (labourites), the Inter-District Group, the Soviet of Workers and Soldiers, etc., and many more.
In short, the Duma was chaotic. But, here’s the real point: they had legitimate voices now. They no longer had to hide in their political catacombs, along with their Cro-Magnon ancestors, the Anarchists and the Nihilists. All but these last two were now free to assemble in the light of day, and give voice to their demands. To describe their vision of what Russia should be. And most of them had their beginnings with the Decembrist movement of December 1825, when the death of Alexander I led to the protests that arose when his son Konstantin declined the throne in favor of his younger brother, Nicholas the First.
Konstantin, you see, was perceived as being favorable to freeing the serfs, whereas Nicholas I was not. For those who care, all of 1917 began in 1825, and the revolutionary expectations of (some of) the people began to be unleashed. And by the time Nicholas II took the throne from his hard-ass father, Alexander III in 1894, there had already been a 70 year campaign by the Anarchists and Nihilists to eradicate the monarchy. In favor of…what? Well, that was the question the Duma was to decide, right? But too many cooks spoil the broth, and the pot boiled over in November, 1917.
Russia by 1905 had spent 80 years festering from the ‘stolen election’ of 1825, when the hopes of the serfs were dashed by the accession of Nicholas I. Russia lived through this time replete with assassination attempts against the Tsars and their ministers. Then came the stupid war with the Japanese in ’04. A war that would supposedly only last the six weeks eventually needed to send the fleet east to crush the Nips. A war that would, hopefully, refocus the people outward, against the foreign enemy. A war of convenience that would relieve the internal pressures of labor and ethnic unrest fed by revolutionary attacks against the throne and state.
When these attacks finally led to the abortive first revolution and the troops fired upon unarmed civilians on Bloody Sunday in January of ’05, it was put down with hot lead. The nation recoiled in horror. And the antibodies to this horrific act were produced. Unfortunately for the Tsar, he had no medical background. He had no clue as to what this meant. But the revolutionaries did. They realized, far better than the Tsar, what motivated true Russian patriotism. And how to hijack it.
The time for that hijacking finally came in March of ’17 , even as Lenin was still lounging in Switzerland. As the competitive chaos amongst the parties of the Duma increased, the demands of the parties upon the throne increased. That was how you differentiated your party from the others. Demand a bigger and bigger role in running the country, steering harder left to show your woke leadership. Sound familiar?
The Tsar never noticed. He was busy with the current version of a supposedly ‘unifying’ war. And listening to his German wife. Which the revolutionaries never failed to remind the people of.
Here’s the point, Komrade. When the cat’s away, the rats will play. The cat was at HQ, closer to the war front. The rats, as always, stayed to the rear. And the tune the rats played for the people was ‘Demand your rights, Komrades!’ The labor unrest began anew.
But now there was a new ingredient added to the old recipe of ’05. Two ingredients, actually. The first ingredient was the people’s memory of the wide-spread horror of large-scale army-on-civilian brutality carried out by the military. The wanton killing of men, women and children, peacefully led by a priest. Perhaps a thousand or more. In the name of the Christian Tsar. Something totally alien to the memory of every Russian before then.
The second ingredient was also new to the scene. It was the magic of modernity. Electronic communications. We’ll get to that in a moment.
Let’s stir the first new ingredient into the batter. We’ve already prepared the original recipe by infiltrating the factories and sowing the spice of labor discontent. That’s not too hard in an industrial-serf society. Now we add the first new ingredient. Send the revolutionary Komrades into the barracks, and stir in well. Start talking about how all the people need to have solidarity. Sobornost! All of the people must become one. Not just the workers in the factories making the munitions and supplies for the war effort. Start talking about the need for solidarity between the Workers and the Soldiers as well!
After all, the soldiers were Russians too, correct? And they were being sent to their deaths on the Western Front in a senseless war that only served to preserve the Dynasty, dah? In other words, a soldiers’ allegiance should be to his fellow Russians, and not the tyrant. Why? Because the Soldiers were part of the people too! Thus, the birth of the Soviet of Workers and Soldiers. Make your enemy your brother. Unless you want another massacre.
The net effect of this strategy was to break the will of the rear-elements of the army before they could be commanded to suppress the striking workers with a new show of deadly force. Forge a bond between the revolutionary forces that claim to represent the laboring men in the factories as well as the soldiers who will have to die for Dynastic glory. Forge a bond that will supersede the one between soldiers and their officers. So that when the order is given to ‘open fire’, no man will obey.
This idea may seem very simplistic, and it was, in the Russian world before 1917. But the world had changed between ’05 an ’17. Twelve years is a lot of time in modern terms. There’s the key. Russia had progressed, along with the rest of the world, since 1900. It no longer took days, weeks, even months for word (of anything) to spread. The telegraph saw to that. Russia was fully unified in this respect.
Here’s the key to the second ingredient of modern communications. The telegraph was absolutely vital to running the railroads. And the railroads were indispensable to any modern war effort. Like any new industrial nation, Russia was fully integrated in this respect, at least in her non-Siberian parts.
In the old days, when you had labor unrest in a local area, or even a mutinous local garrison, so what? Simply send a troop train from Petersburg or Moscow and you crushed the local rebels with distant troops loyal to the throne. But what if most of your troops (especially the efficient ones) are a little busy at the moment, entertaining Kaiser Bill’s boys on the Western Front? And what if most of your trains are busy transporting men and materiel to them? Who do you send to crush the rebels without disrupting your frontlines and supply lines?
The Tsar made the mistake of going to crush it himself. But he sent his troop trains before him instead of leading them. Trains full of battle-hardened men, loyal to him because they had not been infiltrated and proselytized by the revolutionaries back home. But those troop trains would never get there. And neither would the Tsar. Why? Because of The Bagel.
Now we come to Aleksandr Aleksandrovich Bublikov. A member of the Duma. He was the new cook who understood the new recipe. Yes, Bublikov, ‘the bagel’, as his name implied. The man who commandeered the railway/telegraph network in the crucial days of March 12-15, 1917 after the previous Minister had been murdered by the revolutionaries.
Say what you want about who the ‘major players’ were in the Russian Revolution. Lenin (the latecomer), Trotsky, Kerensky, Guchkov, Rodzhyanko, Milyukov, Shulgin, none of them would have gotten to first base without the brilliant moves of Bublikov.
He was now the master of the only national and instantaneous source of news in the Empire. And he fully understood that power. He was the man who sent news of the local labor insurrection in Petersburg throughout the entire Russian Empire. He was the one who maneuvered and trapped the Tsar (and all of his troop trains along the way) at remote railway sidings before they could reach Petersburg to put down the rebellion of the local garrison. It was Bublikov who set all of Russia aflame. Instantly. Hail, modernity! Heil, electrons! Hell, yes!
Isolated and cut off from secure and private communications, the Tsar was browbeaten with continuous telegraphed reports (courtesy of Bublikov) of insurrections. Most of which were false or misleading. Nicholas was seemingly abandoned by his own military leaders (who were suffering the same fate of information control, again, courtesy of Bublikov). No wonder the wimpy Tsar crumpled, and agreed to abdicate. Without a single military shot. Shades of 1905.
Here’s the new cake, as baked with the new recipe. As the Duma was busy producing a Babel of chaotic proposals for the ‘reform’ of the dynasty, the revolutionaries were inciting both the factories and the barracks to destroy it. ‘Spontaneous’ demonstrations arose, of course. Factories went on strike, denying the Western Front of precious war goods. What then is to be done? the local Petersburg commandants asked themselves. Send out the local rear-guard troops, of course!
But wait. What if those troops won’t go? And if they do go, what if they won’t fire on the workers? Why would they refuse to do this? Because Bublikov has told them, on his magic wire, and in the name of the Duma, not to do it. Soon enough, soldiers began to desert the barracks, and to fraternize with civilians and students. Also soon enough, another detachment of troops disarms its own officers. And arrests them. (Bublikov reports this as well, to all of Russia. Along with every other real or imagined subsequent act of rebellion). Arresting officers? Absolute treason! Punishable by death.
The alternative for these reluctant rear-guard soldiers was also death. Death for your Komrades in the factory. Or your civilian relatives at the demonstrations. Now comes the little-man’s dilemma. What should I do, Komrade? I’m just a simple serf sent by my landed master to fulfill his requirement of troops for the Tsar’s wartime needs. Should I kill for the throne? I’m not being ordered to kill Germans, like my brothers at the front. No. Instead, I am being commanded to kill my fellow Russians. What should I do, Komrade? What do I do?
All throughout the Empire this question was immediately raised. And answered, instantaneously, again by Bublikov. ‘In the name of the Duma; hold your fire!‘
That was Then, This Is Now
That’s the situation the local Russian gendarmerie faced in ’17. It was obviously more fraught than the one their older Russian brothers faced in ’05. Obviously, I want to compare that situation with ours today, drawing certain parallels. Before I do that, remember that survival always depends on our ability to recognize patterns. Something that, at first glance may seem different, may actually be the same pattern, but is simply the mirror-opposite. Don’t let that fool you. It’s still the same pattern.
That needs mentioning because I believe in these two situations, both in Russia in ’17 and in America in the here-and-now, we have mirror-reversed the perspective in one crucial way. That is in the historic mind-set of the people involved.
Russia is, and has always been, a defensive, inward-looking nation. A nation that has always lived in fear. Fear of her invasive neighbors, and in fear of her own rulers. I’m not denying her expansionist tendencies to the East and South from the earliest times. But this was movement into an un-peopled vacuum. A vacuum often traversed by the Eastern Hordes and the Muslim Jihadis from the South. Filling that emptiness was defensive in nature.
America, on the other hand, has been aggressive and outward-looking for a long time. I know, I sound anti-American here. But I’m not against our Nation. I’m against the Empire.
Isn’t that exactly the whole point? If we were still America The Nation, would we even be talking about a governmental situation that could use the slightest pretext to literally imprison almost everyone, overnight? That’s what The Lockdown is, you know. Prison. The Imperial prison, that seeks to keep the power they fear losing in the November of our times.
That’s what we’re all contemplating, isn’t it? A government that can unilaterally remove every right, overnight, based on a Public Health Panic that makes absolutely zero sense. That is, if you bother to look at the normal results of any flu season for the past century or two. Or twenty.
Overnight, Americans who have by their nature always been bold and confident, have suddenly been reduced to the cowering fearful state of the Serfs of Russia. An irrational fear, driven by an instantaneous Bublikovian communications system that has almost unanimously voiced the same message—SUBMIT!
Submit to Medical Islam! After all, these Infection Imams have our best interests at heart, no? No price too great to save a single life! Overnight, we have been reduced to a fearful quivering blob. You may think I am stretching this by comparing the new regime to Islam, but isn’t this what it must be like to live in Mecca? You can’t appear on the streets without facial coverings? And nothing may be done publicly? At least, if you are a woman? So, guess what, Komrade? You’ve been transgendered. And you didn’t even notice.
What’s our way out? How do we break the spell we have fallen under? The first thing is we must realize what has happened. Not just in the last two months, but in the last hundred years. The last century has been a steady drumbeat of the Imperial anthem. It began softly but the volume and cadence has risen with each passing decade. It is now drowning out every other sound. The drumbeat of Caesars, both local and distant, is overwhelming our ability to think. And, more importantly, to remember. To remember a time when we could assess our own risks and make our own decisions.
What has helped to prepare us for this fate? Have you ever noticed that you can’t go anywhere anymore without a steady drum beat of piped-in ‘music’ (or sports/news video) surrounding you? You know the purpose, don’t you? It’s to interrupt your thought process. And to enable others to insert their own messages (usually commercial in nature) to influence our actions.
I’m not saying it’s all bad. I’m just saying it distracts us. Distracts us? From what? FROM THINKING! For ourselves. And acting on our own conclusions. Conclusions reached after actual thought, and not just knee-jerk responses to Pavlovian stimuli. It’s not a coincidence Pavlov was Russian. Guess who’s Pavlov today? The same as Bublikov in 1917? Simple, Komrade. It’s the electronic, instantaneous, ubiquitous and mesmerizing media. More importantly, those who seem to control it with a unified voice. A voice that demands we submit. Is that what you want?
Let’s revisit Russia for a moment, and the matter of patterns. Here is a nation that for a thousand years had lived in fear of one sort or another. They finally succumbed to the Siren song that said we can overthrow our masters and experience the absolute joy of unlimited freedom. So they did. For three whole days. March 13th thru March 15th, 1917. The people threw off their masters of government, of custom, of respect, of everything Church and State. They became drunk with the liquor of license. Just like at Troy, when those fools thought they had won. And celebrated a bit too early. Idiots.
Then, just like at Troy, the hammer fell and The Revolution began to exact its toll. By November those hung-over Slavs were reduced to a new slavery and fear that made serfdom look absolutely delightful. That fear still haunts them today, another century later.
We, on the other hand, are experiencing just the opposite range of emotions. Mirror-opposite, in my mind. Americans have always, even in times of stress, lived in a state of oblivious revelry. An unexplainable happiness with life, no matter how hard the circumstances were. Sure, there were hard times, but nothing could ever break the people’s faith that we were the chosen ones. Don’t worry, be happy!
But now, in a mirror-like fashion of the Russians of yore, we have instantly traded our euphoric past for a fearful future. Driven insane by the Bublikovian stimulus we have become enslaved to. Will we stay this way forever? Or, like the post-revolutionary Russians, will we revert to our natural state? You do realize, Komrades, that we are living through a revolutionary time? Will this revolution fail? Will we ever regain our admittedly unearned freedoms? If so, how will it be done? How can we re-establish our national pattern?
Before I answer that question, Citizen, let me caution you. Always fight on your own ground. Because that is where you live. And where you will fight the hardest. Never fight the enemy on his ground.
Where is our enemy’s ground? Simple. The Swamp. The land of political power. Isn’t that the lesson of The Donald? That we are powerless in The Swamp? That there are an unfathomable number of swamp creatures that make it nearly impossible to win on their marshy ground? A ground that absorbs all force before it can be projected against it?
That is why the only political strategy that can be successful, from the vantage of America the Nation, is to disperse the centralized power away from The Swamp. Send power back to the local swamps, where oversight (and reaction) is much easier and effective?
What am I saying here? That we need to engage in a re-doubled political effort, one aimed at re-localizing America the Nation? Hell no!
Yes, we need to re-localize power, but you’ll never do it by engaging the enemy on his mushy centralized ground. Instead, we must lure him to our ground. We must get him to fight us where we are strong. On the ground that we hallow. The ground that we know, and he knows not. A firm ground that lies above the waters of the swamp where they hide. And where would that ground be, Christian?
Yes. At your church. The ground The Swamp despise above all others. Don’t believe me? Then why is everything under the sun, from abortion clinics to liquor stores and WalMarts open for business and Churches are not? Get the message, Komrade? God is ‘not essential’.
Here is my hope, fellow Citizen. America recoiled in horror when the National (rear) Guard fired upon the rock-throwers at Kent State in 1970. My hope (and prayer) is that the antibodies this produced in our nation (like in Russia in 1905) still exist. And will keep our men-at-arms from actually firing upon us. No, not when we violate the social distancing at Planned Parenthood. No, I’m talking about when there is a real challenge to their demands that we submit to Medical Islam. A challenge that arises when we reject their religion of control-by-fear in order to keep the faith of our fathers.
How do we do this, Citizen? Simple. We have to do it on a scale that overwhelms their ability to handle the few who would challenge their rule. We have to do it in a way that defies the thought that this was an un-civil political mob. We have to do it in a way that would excite horror even in the minds of the secular fools who would finally see the evil of physically harming peaceful worshipers who present no threat to others in their secular-commercial empire.
We have to do it on our own ground.
Go to your Church this Sunday. If the doors are open, go in and worship. But if they are still locked (as I fear), then stand around. Congregate outside. Ignore their anti-social distancing dictums. Praise God and press the flesh! Then, and only then, will we know their true intent. Then, and only then, will we also know our true selves as well. And only then will we have the opportunity to break their power. On our own terms. On our own ground. For our own true God.
Christian, stand your ground.
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