Those who have read my ruminations about Negroes, as published on my site and occasionally elsewhere, or have listened to podcast interviews I’ve done on the subject, know that I’m not as hardcore as most in our “movement.” That it is to say, even though I’m for total geographical separation, and am sickened when I learn of yet another Black-on-White rape or murder, and dream of the day when these animals can be legally terminated on the spot, there are many Blacks who deserve our respect, or at least deserve not to be loathed. If that sounds like blasphemy, so be it. I am what I am, as the queers like to say.
Although most big city cops in America have had far more interactions with Blacks than I’ve had, I think my credentials are pretty solid in that department. For many years I drove a home heating oil truck on Long Island, and usually I had to make some deliveries in Black neighborhoods. Your average suburban negro is a cut above his urban counterpart, but there are towns like Wyandanch and Roosevelt that every Long Island resident knows about. My blood pressure always shot up as soon as I drove into these towns, and since there are many C.O.D. oil companies, every year I heard of a few armed robberies, but I was always aware of my surroundings and never had a bad experience. But even within those sketchy towns I named, there are decent areas with nice houses, the owners of which probably landed an Affirmative Action job, set off from sections that look like Detroit. I dealt face-to-face with countless Black customers over the years, wherever they lived, and most of them were okay, some quite likable, but I also ran into surly nigger types now and then.
I lived in Amityville, of The Amityville Horror fame, for 28 years of my adult life. It’s somewhat unusual in that it’s a single town neatly divided in half, racially speaking. South of the railroad tracks it’s nearly all White, while to the north it’s nearly all Black with a sprinkling of Mestizos — very much like the Group Areas Act in the good old days of Apartheid in South Africa. And you know what? The Blacks never complained about it, so far as I know. After all, it was Nature’s way. Generally speaking, there were Negroes all over the place in the business areas, but the usual drug busts, robberies, late-night sirens and occasional shootings invariably happened in North Amityville. Being a realist, and living only a quarter-mile south of the tracks, I kept a loaded .22 rifle within reach when I went to bed every night, but in all those years there were only a few disturbances on my quiet block when police cars showed up at the home of a lowlife White family five doors down. Nevertheless, two George Floyd protest marches with loud chanting very near to my apartment, orderly though they were, accelerated my plan to move to rural upstate New York, where I’ve lived since 2021.
In the early 1980s, I traveled for three months at ground level across twelve countries in sub-Saharan Africa, visiting five more in the far south, including South Africa, in 1988. So again, I’ve had plenty of exposure to the Negro race, not to mention that when I was younger I read at least forty books on all aspects of Africa, and many more on the harmful imprint Blacks have had on America from Reconstruction to the so-called Civil Rights era.
This might sound funny, but the best education I ever got regarding Negroes, better even than Africa, came from observing them at the Amityville Public Library. Over the years, I spent literally thousands of hours there on the internet, until the Covid hoax came along and all the local libraries locked their doors for two months, forcing frugal old John here to buy his own computer. There were twelve computers that patrons could use at the library. On a typical day, ten people would be using them, seven Blacks and three Whites. Most of the Blacks never caused trouble, and were respectful to the White staff when they needed assistance. But there were some memorable days when, oh boy — let’s just say that if I ever get around to it, and I’m in a cheerful mood, I just might write an essay entitled True Stories From the Amityville Library.
We who believe in the primacy of the White race are all in agreement on the essentials, I’m sure. But no two people think exactly alike, and among other fine points, there are differences of opinion among highly intelligent Whites on how they view Blacks. One such man was Ben Klassen, author of Nature’s Eternal Religion, first published in 1973. In a chapter that I found somewhat humorous, Klassen related how he started out as a young man referring to Blacks as niggers, switched to Negro as a result of school and media brainwashing, then went back to nigger. He wrote:
When we think of the black man, we must think of his natural habitat being that of the jungle of Africa. We must realize and think of him as a creature whose natural level of existence is more closely related to that of animals than it is to the great and high civilization of the White Race. We must counteract the Jewish propaganda that is poisoning the minds and the natural instincts of the White people. We can best do this by looking at the nigger for what he is, by thinking of him in terms of hostility and contempt. We must never refer to him in such a respectful term as “negro” but heap contempt and derision upon his head, and call him what he is at all times — a nigger.
While I totally agree with Klassen on Jewish mind poisoning, and that we should always be free to use the word “nigger” as we see fit, I think that using it as a blanket term for all Blacks is low-class. He was well aware of this accusation, but insisted that “from a lifetime of experience and from a lengthy study of the subject, [that] the term nigger is by far the most correct and proper term to use.” Maybe you agree with Ben Klassen. I don’t. And it astonishes me that such a brilliant man could write something like this.
Take another racial-nationalist, David Duke, a son of the South, who since childhood has been aware of the insuperable problems posed by Blacks living among us. Yet in his many writings his language was always moderate, and I’m not aware that he ever used the word “nigger” in speech or in print. And he didn’t like to hear other Whites using it. It wasn’t his style. He always had a place in his heart for decent Black folks, and in his autobiography My Awakening warmly reminisces about Pinky, the Black maid who lived with his family when he was a boy.
Or take William Luther Pierce, who founded the National Alliance, and George Lincoln Rockwell, founder of the American Nazi Party. They collaborated for three years before Rockwell’s assassination in 1967, their one rift being over the tactics needed to recruit the right kind of Whites to build an effective organization. I’ve read many of Pierce’s essays, and listened to well over 200 of his radio broadcasts on compact discs, and don’t recall him ever uttering a kind word about Blacks. Rockwell was much different. To be sure, he could be crude in flinging the word “nigger” around, and ripping into “Martin Luther Coon.” Anyone who has read his book White Power knows that he never minced words on the subject of Negro savagery, particularly in the chapters entitled “The Black Plague” and “Nightmare.” But there was another side to the man. I have some cassette tapes of clips that reveal just how divergent he was when interviewed in the relaxed atmosphere of a radio studio, during which he said things like “This business of hating Negroes is insane,” and on another occasion stating that Negroes are good-natured and he enjoys being around them, the problem being that they’re easily agitated by Jewish propaganda. He admired Malcolm X as a warrior for his own people, calling him a “great man,” and more than once went so far as to say that we owe them a square deal because their ancestors were brought to America against their will as slaves. That’s a lot further than I would go, but otherwise I find myself in total agreement with this remarkable man.
This composition was supposed to be about Dr. Hendrik Verwoerd, the prime minister of South Africa from 1958 to 1966, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t go off on these tangents all the time. But I thought it would be fitting to lay some groundwork first. Now it would be helpful to shift gears and lay a little more groundwork in the way of demographics and historical context.
South Africa has always been an extremely diverse country, beset by racial and tribal friction, and even friction between the two major White groups — those of British descent, and the Afrikaners or Boers (farmers), mainly of Dutch ancestry, who have their own Dutch-derived language, Afrikaans, though everyone speaks English. The situation is somewhat analogous to America — not so much now as it used to be — as to the disharmony between rural White southerners and their more cosmopolitan White brethren in the northeast. While by no means universal, this was long the general sentiment in South Africa, at least until the disastrous advent of Black rule in 1994. It goes back to the bitterness generated by the Boer War of 1899-1902, when some 27,000 Afrikaners, including many women and children, died of neglect while being held in British concentration camps.
Connected with international finance, and the subversive Jew Harry Oppenheimer, who wielded enormous influence as head of the De Beers diamond cartel, not to mention the Jew-controlled English language press, the British continued to dominate politics, at least nominally, until 1948, when the National Party, composed solely of Afrikaners, came into power. Within a few years, a progressive program of racial separation, known to the world as Apartheid — a universal “spit word” thanks to global Jewish brainwashing — became the law of the land. Although the concept did not originate with Verwoerd, he, more than anyone else, vigorously implemented it, and is rightly seen as its primary architect.
Verwoerd and his administration can be favorably compared with Adolf Hitler and the National Socialist Party — men of high character and intelligence who would put any modern Western government to shame. And generally speaking, the Afrikaners were sympathetic to the Germans during World War Two. This, along with their race laws, backed by proud White identity and unyielding White authority, incurred the wrath of World Jewry, including its resident maggots inside South Africa who, as everywhere else, were the driving force behind communism. While the Communist Party itself was banned, to my knowledge neither Verwoerd nor anyone else in the National Party openly named the Jew as the country’s deadliest enemy, and the rodent English language press was freely allowed to smear the government. (Quaintly, it wasn’t until 1976 that television, long considered a destructive social force by the National Party, came to South Africa.)
As early as the 1950s, South Africa was well on its way to becoming an international pariah state, again, thanks to the global Jewish media. The so-called massacre in the township of Sharpeville on March 21, 1960, when White policemen, their backs against the wall, opened fire on a menacing Black mob of nearly 20,000 whipped up by communist agitators, killing 69, was an accelerant used by the media to inflame resentful colored dregs and stupid White liberals the world over against this remote White bastion that threatened no one. After Sharpeville, the flames would only leap higher.
Unlike our blackest state, Mississippi, where Negroes make up 37% of the population, let alone the US as a whole where they constitute about 12%, Blacks have long outnumbered Whites in South Africa. During the Apartheid years it was something like 5 to 1, while today, with so many Whites having left the country, it’s closer to 10 to 1. But there has never been a “Black majority” per se. As everywhere on the continent, tribal identities and antagonisms are a powerful force. The Zulus are the largest tribe by far in the country, followed by the Xhosas (Nelson Mandela’s tribe), and then several more, smaller in number. There are also the Coloureds, their term for mixed race mulattoes, and a substantial number of Indians, like everywhere they go, a despised merchant class that contributes nothing of value to the nation. There’s even a small group of Malays. As every sensible person knows, this much diversity — the result of a sequence of historical accidents — is a recipe for social disaster, but through bold and brilliant White rule, primarily under the leadership of Dr. Verwoerd, South Africa became a powerhouse of stability and prosperity. Much to the dismay of wretches all over the world who hated White-ruled South Africa and longed for its destruction, it succeeded because government policies were aligned with the laws of Nature, meaning White superiority in maintaining civilization, and different people living in their own separate areas. The word “apartheid” literally means separateness.
Verwoerd’s eight years of rule must be seen in its proper historical context. This was an era when, one by one, African colonies were being granted independence by their respective European powers, mainly France and Great Britain. Communism, driven by World Jewry, was embraced by only a handful of Black upstarts, who nevertheless were well-versed in the art of rabble-rousing and building large followings. The demoralizing mind rot of liberalism, oozing from the daily press, and exacerbated by backstabbing politicians back in the Old World as well as in Washington D.C., had also taken hold, mainly in the southern and eastern regions of the continent where British influence was concentrated. The flatulent “Winds of Change,” as they were called, swept across Kenya and countries that would later be called Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Malawi, and Botswana. South Africa, despite its important British ties, was a more complicated case, since it was a sovereign country all along and was led by Verwoerd, an Afrikaner, who nevertheless desired conciliation with Great Britain and unity among all Whites within his country. It was in this time frame, incidentally, that Nelson Mandela was arrested, tried, and convicted of sabotage, not for fighting racial injustice, but for plotting to blow up a White police station, a charge to which he readily admitted and defended at his trial. At the time, many expressed surprise that he was not given the death sentence. Instead, the judge sentenced him to life imprisonment. That turned out to be a bad mistake. A few years earlier, in 1960, the enormous Congo, which shared a long border with Northern Rhodesia (Zambia), exploded into total chaos within days of receiving its independence from Belgium, with nearly the entire European population fleeing for their lives, though thousands were murdered and countless women gang-raped. This was a racial wake-up call for Whites on the Dark Continent.
Filling out a map of the region (I’ll skip over Namibia, formerly a South African protectorate called South West Africa, a huge but sparsely populated desert country with an odd German background) were the large Portuguese territories of Angola and Mozambique, the latter bordering South Africa on the northeast. The glory of Portugal, which reached its zenith in the Age of Exploration, had faded centuries ago, but her old African lands, claimed in the early 1500s — Angola on the west coast and Mozambique on the east — were still part of the mother country, led by the resolutely anti-communist Antonio Salazar, and politically and spiritually aligned with South Africa in the defense of Western civilization.
Several excellent “underground” books were written and published in this time frame, including Anthony Jacob’s White Man, Think Again! which came out in 1965. English by birth, Jacob had seen military service during World War Two in Asia, then went to Africa, where he lived and traveled around several countries before settling in South Africa. He later wrote a regular column for the American race magazine Instauration. Fully understanding the realities of racial differences, sensing the trouble brewing throughout southern and eastern Africa, and writing with acerbic wit, Jacob made it clear in the opening pages that he had no use for Negroes, though he reserved just as much scorn for the treacherous politicians in faraway London who were pulling the rug on their kith and kin in Africa. This amazingly prophetic book is essential reading for race-conscious Whites who wish to learn about those turbulent times.
Three chapters in this book focus on South Africa. Hendrik Verwoerd, for whom Jacob had the greatest admiration, was alive at the time of publication, when South Africa was at the peak of its strength, though under constant siege from the United Nations and hated by government officials of all skin shades around the world. It would require a hundred pages to lay out all the important details about Verwoerd, the Apartheid system, and the situation in South Africa. Instead, I’ll draw on Anthony Jacob’s insights, sound ideas from other sources, and my own familiarity with “the facts on the ground” throughout Africa, in simplifying and condensing the details in one long, unorganized paragraph.
The great majority of South African Blacks, at all times, were politically indifferent or openly supportive of the Apartheid system. Throughout sub-Saharan Africa, if you have three square meals, clean running water, a roof over your head, electricity, access to advanced medical care, and social stability, you’re living like a king. Most South African Blacks had all these things, most of them funded by White taxpayers, and never felt oppressed, even though they were denied some trifling rights, like the right to vote — as if being allowed to choose between Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum every four years is a sacred privilege. People of all races like strong rule, tempered by kindness, and are repelled by anti-social behavior, though as we all know such behavior is more prevalent among primitive races. Even so, violent Black-on-White crime was extremely rare under Apartheid, and when it did happen, the accused were given a fair trial, and if convicted, swiftly hanged. Most Blacks recognized the justice in this, since they, including their tribal chiefs, were conservative in the best old sense of that word. South Africa’s tribal chiefs, the traditional leaders across the continent, were on very good terms with Dr. Verwoerd because he respected their institutions and took good care of them. He understood the native mind and the outside forces of darkness through and through. He knew his policies were in the best interests of the Black population and refused to cave in to the demands of a comparative handful of troublemakers, knowing that this would be seen as a sign of weakness, which would lead to more trouble and insolent demands. He refused to bend the knee to “world opinion,” turning a deaf ear to the universal condemnation of Apartheid, correctly perceiving that what South Africa’s enemies wanted was not the uplifting of the Black man but the destruction of the White man. He refused to take orders from the New World Order crowd, refused to let any outsider tell him how to run his country. He envisioned, and began to implement, a South Africa where not only Whites would live separately, but Black groups as well would live in their own homelands in order to minimize the tribal animosities that have always existed in Africa and all too often led to civil war and genocide. These homelands would be self-governing but the White government would be ready to lend a helping hand if requested. He championed his own people but also chided them for their dependence on cheap Black labor. Since I had never heard of Verwoerd when he was alive, I can only gauge his popularity on my knowledge of human nature. Genius is never understood by ordinary people, but with his aura of sincerity and quiet dignity, he must have been idolized by the great majority of Whites in South Africa, even liberal idiots who took the “moral high ground” in opposing Apartheid — not to mention that their country was a great success by any standard. Among most Blacks, I can only guess that they looked up to him as a Great White Father.
On September 6, 1966, two days before Verwoerd’s sixty-fifth birthday, a man disguised as a messenger, who had mysteriously been given security clearance, walked into South Africa’s Parliament during a recess and stabbed Verwoerd in the chest and neck, killing him. The assassin was a deranged communist half-breed named Dimitri Tsafendas, who was almost certainly tasked with the assignment by the international wirepullers whose nefarious goals had been repeatedly obstructed by Dr. Verwoerd. His death was the beginning of the end for South Africa. His successor, John Vorster, was a cheap conservative politician in the Nixon/Reagan/Thatcher mold. Verwoerd’s grand ambitions fell by the wayside little by little, as Vorster surrendered to the demands of the one-world Money Power, even while posing as a hardliner carrying on Verwoerd’s legacy. The Jewish virus Henry Kissinger, who was Secretary of State in the Nixon and Ford administrations (1969-1977), and continued to “advise” presidents right down to Trump, played a major role in strangling White rule in both South Africa and Rhodesia (Zimbabwe). Adding to the destabilization of the region, a military coup in Lisbon in 1974 hastened the independence of Angola and Mozambique the following year, initiating prolonged and devastating civil wars in both countries. South Africa became embroiled in the extremely complex Angolan conflict, but that had little bearing on the dismantling of White rule.
Just as Hendrik Verwoerd had forewarned, racial policy changes in the guise of humanitarian reforms would do nothing to placate South Africa’s many foreign enemies, but would only serve to intensify their screechings until White rule was toppled and civilization destroyed. The global media campaign against this beleagured country became more and more shrill, reaching a crescendo in the mid-1980s, Vorster having resigned in 1984 and been replaced by another tough-talking, impotent conservative, P. W. Botha. If you’re older than fifty or so, you likely remember the almost daily filmed news reports, broadcast for years in the 1980s, of riots and chaos, giving the viewer the impression that South Africa was going up in flames. TV viewers were also treated to many clips of fashionable politicians and celebrities getting themselves arrested while protesting outside the South African embassy in Washington, knowing full well that they wouldn’t spend a minute behind bars. Few can fathom the mind-bending depths to which the mainstream media can sink. The truth of the matter was that very little was happening in the country, other than scattered, small-scale disturbances in some Black townships instigated by Al Sharpton types. Very few people in the country were affected by these flare-ups; many didn’t even know about them.
My wife and I traveled to southern Africa for two months in 1988, including five weeks in South Africa, covering the length and breadth of the country by car, staying at campgrounds and cheap hotels. Earlier in the decade I had seen the realities of Black Africa with my own eyes, and before that had learned the ways of the Jewish media in all its monstrous lying and mass mind control. So it didn’t surprise me that we saw no foreign tourists there, not one. They had stayed away either out of fear, believing that insurrection was sweeping the whole country, or out of infantile moral outrage over the imaginary horrors of Apartheid. We did meet locals at the campgrounds traveling on their vacation time, however, and one of the peculiarities of the country was that many had taken their Black servants with them to do chores. That did not strike me as a good sign. We felt safe everywhere we went, in the big cities as well as in the countryside. Yet I sensed that South Africa was in a kind of twilight zone — politically adrift on a course away from Apartheid and sailing into an uncertain future. Nelson Mandela, the world’s most beloved terrorist, was still in prison and Botha was still president, but in six months he would be replaced by the last White ruler, the shameless traitor F. W. de Klerk, who turned Mandela loose in 1990, and turned South Africa over to Black rule four years later. Before they knew what hit them, the Whites had lost their country.
I had several political chats with both Brits and Afrikaners. What I still can’t comprehend is how ignorant and blind the Brits were — as brainwashed by their mainstream media as any American yuppie — this on a primeval continent where the strong live and the weak die, where the sober lessons of History surrounded them, where right next door, in Zimbabwe and Mozambique, Black rule had proved so disastrous. No, the Apartheid system was morally wrong, Blacks were oppressed, and things had to change after which South Africa would no longer be vilified by the whole world. The Boers I spoke with were more realistic, but confused about the future in the transitional vacuum they were living in. They too had their share of liberal morons, and as William Pierce pointed out at the time, the Dutch Reformed Church, a powerful institution among most Afrikaners, was poisoning their minds, declaring that Apartheid was a sin. I did not talk politics or anything else with any Blacks. I was told that, as an American, I should keep a low profile, because the punitive economic sanctions slapped on South Africa by Washington had thrown a lot of ordinary Blacks out of work, and they did not have kind feelings towards the US.
As everyone knows, Nelson Mandela became South Africa’s first Black president in 1994. It didn’t take him long to bare his Marxist yellow fangs, open the country to the gates of hell, and dispossess the perplexed White population, even as he shared the Nobel Peace Prize with de Klerk. In the rest of the world he was greeted as the Second Coming of Christ, especially in New York City where he was given a ticker tape parade and reporters outdid each other in convulsions of ecstasy. Planet Earth is an insane asylum.
I would think that nearly everyone reading these words knows the tragedy that has befallen South African Whites, rural Afrikaners in particular. The hour-long documentary Plaasmoorde: The Killing Fields, produced by courageous British journalist Katie Hopkins, and accessible on the internet, tells their gruesome story in graphic detail. Thousands of farmers in outlying areas have been savagely attacked, and many murdered after being hideously tortured. Beginning with Mandela, there have been five presidents, all Black, and all have been hostile in varying degrees towards the White population, though none quite as genocidal as the roving maniac politician Julius Malema, who has exhorted huge mobs packed into soccer stadiums to “Kill the Boer.” Knowing Africa as well as I do, however, I’m sure there are plenty of middle-aged and older Blacks who yearn for the good old days of White rule and the Apartheid system.
The hellhole into which South Africa would descend if the White man were to lose his grip on the levers of power, as foretold more than sixty years ago by Hendrik Verwoerd, is now reality. I can’t say what everyday life is like in the country these days, other than to extract from what seem to be credible sources online. Violent attacks continue against farmers, who are by far the most endangered Whites. Thousands have emigrated, though the majority seem determined to hold the fort, taking extreme precautions so as not to become the next victims. Many Whites who stayed in the cities and suburbs now live in gated communities, though this is no guarantee of safety. The traitor’s own former wife, Marike de Klerk, was murdered by a Black security guard in one such “protected” dwelling in 2001. Needless to say, Whites everywhere live in the shadow of constant danger with South Africa now a world leader in every category of violent crime — rape, murder, assault, armed robbery and carjacking — though on a numerical basis law-abiding Blacks have paid a higher price. The usual services that people in civilized countries take for granted, and which operated smoothly under White rule, often break down due to Black incompetence. A good example is “load shedding,” the term for frequent widespread electrical power outages.
For many years prior to Black rule, South African Airways was barred from American soil. In 1988, I flew from New York to Johannesburg on Lufthansa, with a connecting flight in Frankfurt. Now that the curse of Apartheid has been lifted, and the “rainbow nation” is reaping all the wonderful benefits of Black rule, the country’s flag carrier operates, or operated, regular flights between Jo’burg and New York and Washington, though under Black mismanagement SAA has had a laughable history of corruption, financial difficulties, canceled routes and whatnot, and it’s hard to determine if they even still fly to the US. Now that the country is exponentially more dangerous than it was in 1988, when in five weeks I didn’t see a single foreign tourist, foreign tourists now flock there in the millions — 7.2 million in 2025 according to one site, more than 10 million claims another. As I said, this world is a looney bin, its watchtowers manned by sentries of the Jewish global media apparatus.
If you consult travel blogs and ask, “Is South Africa safe to visit?,” you’ll get a wide variety of responses. My guess is that more than 90% of travelers book organized group tours led by guides who know their way around — the safest way to go — and the majority of these experience no problems and go home with positive or even glowing reports, having heard inspiring stories about St. Nelson the Liberator, and nothing about the bloodbath of White farmers. There are, however, a fair number of testimonials about the prevalence of violent crime, including warnings to avoid the country altogether. I always like to hear impressions in person, and I had that opportunity when I was traveling around Azerbaijan in 2018 and had lunch with a middle-aged American couple who had taken a two-week trip by rental car around South Africa the previous year. They were seasoned travelers who struck me as having no political or racial axe to grind — just regular folks who were prudent and street-smart. They did not enjoy their trip. They said they could feel the racial tension everywhere they went, and in some popular tourist areas in Johannesburg and Cape Town, they saw signs that read “High Crime Area.” I’ve traveled the world and have never seen such a sign. On their last day, they said, they felt happy to get to the airport unscathed and would never go back. All I care to add is that I have a sound sixth sense, and even though South Africa was in a strange historical limbo when I was there, it was still under White rule and I never felt any danger.
That Dr. Verwoerd had proposed the best possible solution to an impossible demographic situation — a solution that benefited the White population above all, but incidentally also the many distinct nonwhite groups that called South Africa their home — should be clear to critical thinkers. Racially conscious leaders throughout the White world, waiting in the wings or yet to come of age — leaders who will have to grapple with the rising tide of color that organized Jewry has turned loose — will do well to follow his example, though of course adjusting their programs to meet their unique circumstances.
I know that violence and bloodshed have always been part of the human condition, and from time to time, as in the Sharpeville slaughter, men are faced with the grim choice to kill or be killed. But I also believe that it shows wisdom and nobility of the heart when a leader, backed by superior firepower, and without relinquishing the interests of his own people, tries to resolve problems with neighboring groups or nations without resorting to the use of force. This is what Adolf Hitler attempted to do, unsuccessfully, with Poland, and with partial success in France. That was just one aspect of his greatness. It is Hendrik Verwoerd’s legacy as well.
So far as I know, Verwoerd left behind no written works. Several books have been written about him, none of which I’ve read. I’ll again mention White Man, Think Again!, which is of special interest because it was written when Verwoerd was alive, and gives the reader a broad picture of southern Africa in ferment in the early 1960s, particularly countries with close ties to Great Britain. Another excellent book filled with fascinating details that I’m unable to even touch upon here is The Plot Against South Africa by Klaus Vaque. The author covers much the same ground as Anthony Jacob, though in later years, leading up to its publication date of 1989, and only within South Africa’s borders. Also, to return to a theme discussed above, Vaque is much more sympathetic to the country’s inoffensive Black citizens unwillingly caught up in the turmoil of the times.
Lastly, I can recommend Sell-Out! by P.J. Pretorius, a former South African National Intelligence Agent, published in 1997, three years after the country was indeed sold out. This book is an overview of the overlapping conspiracies within and without the country spanning the twentieth century. In Chapter 10, he presents a plausible scenario of a meeting held in Harry Oppenheimer’s house where the assassination of Hendrik Verwoerd was first discussed, two years before it was carried out. Equally intriguing is his assertion that Verwoerd’s face, along with a spear and two drops of blood, appeared on the cover of the August 26, 1966 edition of Time magazine, eleven days before he was murdered. Inside the magazine, Pretorius wrote, was a six-page article entitled “Murder in the Heart.” This piqued my interest and I ordered this issue of Time on e-Bay for $20. Verwoerd’s stern face is in fact on the front cover, a suggestive chain link fence behind him, with the headline “SOUTH AFRICA: The Delusions of Apartheid,” but there is no blood or spear, and the article is headed “SOUTH AFRICA,” and under that, “The Great White Laager.”. So either Pretorius got his facts wrong, or more likely, as sometimes happens with periodicals published on different continents on the same date, some editor changed the illustration and tweaked the text. The words “Murder in the Heart” do appear as one of several subheadings, in connection with what was probably a fabricated story about a native who said, “There is murder in my heart. I wear different masks for different white people all the time.” Whatever the case, in my view it’s a safe bet that in this issue of Time the world’s most powerful Jews were telegraphing their murderous intentions to the dumb goyim with satanic glee, as they did with illustrations of airplanes crashing into New York City skyscrapers well before September 11, 2001.
The article is what one would expect of an establishment rag like Time — an unfocused, schizophrenic omelet of truths, lies, innuendos, and anecdotes probably made out of whole cloth. That said, the unnamed author wrote in a tone that was refreshing compared to what would come twenty years later. He or she actually conceded that South Africa was a strong and stable nation, that Blacks from other African countries were streaming into the land of Apartheid with its unmatched wealth and opportunities, and that Hendrik Verwoerd had some fine personal attributes — before turning around and denouncing the conditions within the country that he had created. The events of the last thirty years have clearly demonstrated that the person who wrote this article had a scrambled brain, which is pretty much a job requirement for any mainstream journalist.
It’s depressing to realize how so many of our people are incapable of learning the lessons taught by History, how they’re incapable of thinking at all, and go on forever being duped by the Jewish gatekeepers of misinformation and betrayed by the Gentile trash they vote into office. It always seems to take a rare, extraordinary leader to lift them out of the muck and set them on the right path for their own good — a man like Hendrik Verwoerd. That’s just the way things are, and we who see things clearly must continue to speak out and carry on.