Category: Karlheinz Deschner

Kriminalgeschichte, 68

A 17th-century Calvinist print depicting Pelagius

The caption says:

Accurst Pelagius, with what false pretence
Durst thou excuse Man’s foul Concupiscence,
Or cry down Sin Originall, or that
The Love of GOD did Man predestinate.

The overthrow of Pelagius
Rather than the struggle against the Donatists, Augustine was internally motivated by the prolonged quarrel with Pelagius, who convincingly refuted his bleak complex of original sin, along with the mania of predestination and grace; the Council of Orange of the year 529 dogmatized it (partly literally) and the Council of Trent renewed it.
According to most sources, Pelagius was a Christian layman of British origin. From approximately the year 384, or sometime later, he imparted his teachings in Rome, enjoying great respect.
Interestingly, when he disembarked at Hippo in 410, Pelagius was in the retinue of Melania the Younger, her husband Valerius Pinianus and her mother Albina—that is, ‘perhaps the richest family in the Roman Empire’ (Wermelinger). The father of the Church, Augustine, had also intensified his contacts with this family for a short time. Indeed, he and other African bishops, Aurelius and Alypius, had convinced the billionaires not to squander their wealth with the poor, but to hand them over to the Catholic Church! The Church became heir to this gigantic wealth. Melania was even elevated to sanctity (her holiday: December 31). ‘How many inheritances the monks stole!’, writes Helvetius, ‘but they stole them for the Church, and the Church made saints of them’.
From Pelagius, a man of great talent, we have received numerous short treatises, whose authenticity is subject to controversy. However, there are at least three that seem authentic. The most important of his works, De natura, we know by the refutation of Augustine, De natura et gratia. Also the main theological work of Pelagius, De libero arbitrio has been transmitted to us, in several fragments, by his opponent, although his theory is often distorted in the course of the controversy.
Pelagius, impressive as a personality, was a convinced Christian; he wanted to stay within the Church and what he least wanted was a public dispute. He had many bishops on his side. He did not reject prayers or deny the help of grace, but rather defended the need for good works, as well as the need for free will, the liberum arbitrium. But for him there was no original sin: the fall of Adam was his own; not hereditary.
It was precisely his experience with the moral laziness of the Christians that had determined the position that Pelagius adopted, in which he also often included an intense social criticism tainted with religiosity, appealing to Christians to ‘feel the pains of others as if they were their own, and shed tears for the affliction of other human beings’.
But this was not, of course, a subject for the irritable Augustine; he, who did not see the human being, like Pelagius, as an isolated individual but devoured by a monstrous hereditary debt, the ‘original sin’, and considered humanity a massa peccati, fallen because of the snake, ‘an elusive animal, skilled on the sinuous roads’, fallen because of Eve, ‘the smaller part of the human couple’ because, like the other fathers of the Church, he despised the woman.
In strict justice, all mankind would be destined for hell. However, by a great mercy there would be at least a minority chosen for salvation, but the mass would be rejected ‘with all reason’.

There is God full of glory in the legitimacy of his revenge.

According to the doctor ecclesiae we are corrupted from Adam, since the original sin is transmitted through the reproductive process; in fact, the practice of the baptism of children to forgive sins already presupposes those in the infant. On the other hand, the salvation of humanity depends on the grace of God, the will has no ethical significance.
But in this way the human being becomes a puppet that is stirred in the threads of the Supreme: a machine with a soul that God guides as he wants and where he wants, to paradise or to eternal perdition. Why?

Why? Because he wanted. But why did he want it? ‘Man, who are you who want to talk to God?’

Augustine warned against Pelagius and launched, increasingly busier in the causa gratiae, his theory of predestination which Jesus does not announce and which he himself did not defend in his early days, for more than a decade and a half, until the year 427, when he published a dozen controversial writings against Pelagius.
St. Jerome, at odds with the Bishop of Jerusalem, then wrote a very wide-ranging polemic, the Dialogi contra Pelagianos, in which he defamed his adversary by calling him a habitual sinner, arrogant Pharisee, ‘greasy dog’, etc.: dialogues that Augustine extolled as a work of wonderful beauty and worthy of faith. In 416 the Pelagians set fire to the monasteries of Jerome, and his life was in grave danger.
Pope Zosimus was left out of play in a clever stratagem of Emperor Honorius, and in a letter addressed on April 30, 418 to Palladius, prefect praetorian of Italy, he ordered the expulsion of Pelagius and Caelestius from Rome—the harshest decree by the end of the Roman Empire. He also censured his ‘heresy’ as a public crime and sacrilege, with a special emphasis on the expulsion from Rome, where there were riots and violent disputes among the clergy. All the Pelagians were persecuted, their property was confiscated and they were exiled.
In the final phase of the conflict the young bishop Julian of Eclanum (in Benevento) became the great adversary of Augustine, who by age could have been a son: the authentic spokesman of the opposition, who often cornered the bellicose African through a frontal attack.
Julian was probably born in Apulia, at the bishop’s headquarters of his father Memor, who was a friend of Augustine. As a priest he married the daughter of a bishop, and Pope Innocent appointed him in 416 as bishop of Eclanum. Unlike most prelates, he had an excellent education, was very independent as a thinker and very sharp as a polemicist. He wrote for a ‘highly intellectual’ audience, while Augustine, who found it difficult to refute the ‘young man’, did so for the average clergy, who always constitute a majority.
Although he theologically subscribes the theory of grace, he does not see it as a counterpart of nature, which would also be a valuable gift of the Creator. He highlighted free will, attacked the Augustinian doctrine of original sin as Manichaean, fought the idea of inherited guilt, of a God who becomes a persecutor of newborns, who throws into eternal fire little children—the God of a crime ‘that can scarcely be imagined among the barbarians’ (Julian).
Along with the eighteen bishops who gathered around him, Julian was excommunicated in 418 by Zosimus and, like most of them, expelled from his position, he found refuge in the East. Augustine became more and more severe in his assertions about predestination, the division of humanity between the elect and the condemned. Already on his deathbed, he attacked Julian in an unfinished work.

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Christendom Civil war Inquisition Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books) Theology

Kriminalgeschichte, 67

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Criminal History of Christianity). For a comprehensive text that explains the absolute need to destroy Judeo-Christianity, see here. In a nutshell, any white person who worships the god of the Jews is, ultimately, ethnosuicidal.

Augustine’s campaign against the Donatists
To the Donatists, whom the African had never mentioned before, he finally paid attention when he was already a priest. Since then he fought them year after year, with greater fury than other ‘heretics’; he threw his contempt to their faces and expelled them from Hippo, their episcopal city. Because the Donatists had committed ‘the crime of schism’ they were nothing but ‘weeds’, animals: ‘these frogs sit in their pond and croak: “we are the only Christians!” but they are heading to hell without knowing it’.
What was a Donatist for Augustine? An alternative that was not presented to him, because, when he was elected bishop, the schism was already 85 years old. It was a local African issue, relatively small, though not divided into ‘countless crumbs’ as he claimed. Catholicism, on the other hand, absorbed the peoples; it had the emperor on his side, the masses, as Augustine blurts out, ‘the unity of the whole world’. Frequently and without hesitation Augustine insists on such demonstration of the majority, incapable of making the reflection that Schiller will later formulate: ‘What is the majority? Most is nonsense; intelligence has always been only in the minority’.
The Donatist was convinced of being a member of a brotherhood. Throughout their tragic history, they collaborated with a religious-revolutionary peasant movement, which inflicted vexations on the landowners: the Circumcellions or Agonistici—temporary workers of the countryside and at the same time the left wing of this Church, who first enjoyed the support of Donatus of Bagai and later that of Gildo.
According to his adversary, Augustine, who characterized them with the psalm of ‘rapids are their feet to shed blood’, they robbed, looted, set fire to the basilicas, threw lime and vinegar in the eyes of Catholics, claimed promissory notes and started with threats his emancipation. Often led by clerics, including bishops, ‘captains of the saints’, these Agonistici or milites Christi (followers of martyrs, hobby pilgrims, terrorists) beat the landowners and Catholic clerics with decks called ‘israels’ under the war cry of ‘Praise be to God’ (laus deo), the ‘trumpets of the massacre’ (Augustine). The Catholics ‘depended to a great extent on the support of the Roman Empire and the landlords, who guaranteed them economic privileges and material protection’ (Reallexikon für Antike und Christentum). It was also not uncommon for the exploited to kill themselves in order to reach paradise. As the Donatists said, because of the persecution they jumped from rocks, as for example the cliffs of Ain Mlila, or to mighty rivers, which for Augustine was not more than ‘a part of their habitual behaviour’.
The centre of their offices was the cult to the martyrs. Excavations carried out in the centre of Algeria, which was the bulwark of the Donatists, have brought to light innumerable chapels dedicated to the adoration of the martyrs and which undoubtedly belonged to the schismatics. Many carried biblical quotes or their currency, Deo laudes.
A Donatist bishop boasted that he had reduced four churches to ashes with his own hand. They, as so often emphasized, even by Augustine, could not be martyrs ‘because they did not live the life of Christ’. The true background of the Donatist problem, which not only led to the religious wars of the years 340, 347 and 361-363 but caused the great uprisings of 372 and 397-398, Augustine failed to understand or did not want to understand. He thought he could explain through a theological discussion what was less a confessional than a social problem: the deep social contrasts within North African Christianity, the abyss between a rich upper class and those who owned nothing; that they were not in any way just the ‘bands of Circumcellions’, but also the slaves and the free masses who hated the dominant ones.
Augustine did not know or did not want to see this. He defended with all tenacity the interests of the possessing and dominant class. For him the Donatists were never right: they simply defamed and lied. He maintained that they were looking for a lie, that their lie ‘fills all Africa’. Initially, Augustine was not in favour of violence. He questioned any attempt to use it. ‘I have no intention of forcing anyone against their will to the religious community with anyone’. Of course, when he learned about the wickedness of the ‘heretics’ and saw that they could be improved with some force, which the Government already commissioned in an increasing way from the year 405, he changed his mind.
The faith of the Donatists, no matter how similar it was—even, essentially, identical—was nothing but error and violence. Catholics, on the other hand, only acted out of pure compassion, out of love. ‘Understand what happens to you! God does not want you to sink into a sacrilegious disunity, separated from your mother, the Catholic Church’.
As the Handbuch der Kirchengeschichte says, or more precisely, the Catholic Baus, ‘here speaks the voice of a man who was so driven and encouraged by the religious responsibility to bring back to an ecclesia the lost brothers in the error, that all the other considerations remained for him in the background’. How typical! He must exonerate Augustine, make his thoughts and actions understandable. Thus, over the course of two millennia, the great crimes of history have been constantly apologised and exalted; they have been glorified. Only in the name of God can they always allow and commit certain crimes, the most atrocious, as will be demonstrated more clearly each time throughout this criminal history.
With an extensive series of astute sentences, without missing those corresponding to the Old and New Testaments, the great lover now demands coercive measures against all those who ‘must be saved’ (corrigendi atque sanandi). The coercion, Augustine teaches now, is sometimes inevitable, because although the best ones can be handled with love, to the majority, unfortunately, it is necessary to force them with fear.
‘He who spares the rod hates his son’ he says, quoting the Bible. ‘A spoiled man is not corrected with words’. And did not Sara chase Hagar? And what did Elijah do with the priests of Baal? For many years Augustine had justified the brutalities of the Old Testament against the Manichaeans, from whom came that book of princes of darkness.
The New Testament could also be used. Did not Paul also give some people to Satan? ‘You know?’, Augustine says to bishop Vixens, explaining the Gospel—:

no one can be forced to justice when you read how the head of the family spoke to his servants: ‘Whoever finds them compels them to enter!’

—which Augustine translates most effectively as ‘force them’ (cogitere intrare). Resistance only demonstrates irrationality. Do not the feverish patients, in their delirium, also revolt against their doctors? Augustine calls tolerance (toleratio) ‘fruitless and vain’ (infructuosa et vana) and is excited by the conversion of many ‘through healthy coercion’ (terrore perculsi). It was nothing else than the program of Firmicus Maternus, ‘the program of a general declaration of war’ (Hoheisel), whether Augustine had read it or not.
‘Under extreme coercion’, the ‘professional speaker’ preaches, rich in tricks, ‘the inner will is realised’, referring to the Acts of the Apostles, 9,4, to John, 6,44, and finally, starting from the year 416-417, to Luke, 14, 23—the Gospel of love! In proceeding against his enemies, he gave the impression that he was also ‘sometimes a little nervous’ (Thomas), although what seemed to be persecution, in reality, was only love, ‘always only love and exclusively love’ (Marrou).
‘The Church presses them against their hearts and surrounds them with motherly tenderness to save them’—through forced labour, fustigations, confiscation of property, elimination of the right of inheritance. However, the only thing that Augustine wants again is to ‘impose’ on the Donatists ‘the advantages of peace, unity and love’:

That is why I have been presented to you as your enemy. You say you want to kill me, although I only tell you the truth and, as far as I’m concerned, I will not let you get lost. God would avenge from you and kill, in you, the error.

God would take revenge on you! The bishop does not consider himself by any means an inciter. But, yes, when it seemed appropriate, he demanded to apply the full weight of the law to the recalcitrant, not granting them ‘grace or forgiveness’. Better said, he authorized torture!
The most famous saint of the ancient Church, perhaps of the whole Church, a ‘so affable person’ (Hendrikx), the father of ‘infinite kindness’ (Grabmann) ‘and generosity ‘(Kotting), who against the Donatists ‘he constantly practiced the sweet behaviour’ (Espenberger), which against them does not formulate ‘any hurtful word’ (Baus), which tries to ‘preserve from the harsh penalties of Roman law’ even ‘the guilty’ (Hümmeler)—in short, the man who becomes spokesman of the mansuetudo catholica, of Catholic benevolence, allows torture…
The thing was not so bad after all! ‘Remember all the possible martyrdoms’, Augustine consoles us:

Compare them with hell and you can imagine everything easily. The torturer and the tortured are here ephemeral, eternal there… We have to fear those pains as we fear God. What the human being suffers here supposes a cure (emendatio) if it is corrected.

Catholics could thus abuse as much as they liked, it was unimportant compared to hell, with that horror that God would impose upon them for all eternity. The earthly torture was ‘light’, ‘transient’, just a ‘cure’!
A theologian is never disconcerted! That’s why he does not know shame either.
In the Christian Empire of those times there prevailed everything except liberality and personal freedom. What prevailed was slavery, children were chained instead of the parents, everywhere there was secret police, ‘and every day could be heard the cries of those whom the court tortured and could be seen the gates with the whimsically executed’ (Chadwick). The emperor’s assassins automatically liquidated the Donatists who had mutilated Catholic priests or who had destroyed churches. Augustine endorsed in practice the death penalty. ‘The greater the hardness with which the State acts, the more Augustine applauds’ (Aland).
Here we see the celebrated father of the Church in all its magnitude: as a desk author and hypocrite; as a bishop who not only exerted a terrible influence during his life, but who was the initiator of political Augustinism: the archetype of all the bloody inquisitors of so many centuries, of their cruelty, perfidy, prudishness, and a precursor of horror: of the medieval relations between Church and State. Augustine’s example allowed the ‘secular arm’ to throw millions of human beings, including children and the elderly, dying and disabled, to the cells of torture, to the night of the dungeons, to the flames of the fire—and then hypocritically ask the State to respect their lives! All the henchmen and ruffians, princes and monks, bishops and popes who from now on would hunt martyrs and burn ‘heretics’, could lean on Augustine, and in fact they did it; and also the reformers.
When in 420 the state minions persecuted the bishop of Ta-mugadi, Gaudentius, he fled to his beautiful basilica; fortified himself there and threatened to burn himself along with his community. The chief of the officials, a pious Christian, who nevertheless persecuted people of his own faith, did not know what party to take and consulted Augustine. The saint, inventor of the sui generis doctrine of predestination, replied:

But since God, according to secret but just will, has predestined some of them to eternal punishment, without a doubt it is better that, although some are lost in their own fire, the vastly greater majority is gathered and recovered from that pernicious division and dispersion, instead of all together be burned in the eternal fire deserved by the sacrilegious division.

Once again Augustine was himself, ‘of course the first theoretician of the Inquisition’, who wrote ‘the only complete justification in the history of the ancient Church’ about ‘the right of the State to repress non-Catholics’ (Brown). In the application of violence, the saint only saw a ‘process of debilitation’, a ‘conversion by oppression’ (per molestias eruditio), a ‘controlled catastrophe’ and compared it to a father ‘who punishes the son who loves’ and that every Saturday night, ‘as a precaution’ beats his family.
The ‘edict of the unit’ of 405 followed other state decrees in the years 407, 408, 409, 412 and 414. The obligatory withdrawal of the Donatists was ordered, their Church was relegated more or less to the underground and they started pogroms that would last several years. The Donatist Church was forbidden; its followers forced to convert to Catholicism. ‘The Lord has shattered the teeth of the lion’ (Augustine). Entire cities, hitherto convinced Donatists, became Catholic out of fear of sorrow and violence, such as the episcopal city of Augustine, where once the ovens could not bake bread for Catholics. Finally, he himself expelled the Donatists. However, when the State tolerated them temporarily during the invasion of Alaric and they returned, for the great saint they seemed ‘wolves to whom it would be necessary to kill with blows’. Only by chance did he escape from an ambush that the Circumcellions had laid out for him.
The masses of slaves and settlers, of whom only their labour force was of any use, were to be maintained within the Catholic Church, through forced labour and the lash of their lords, for the maintenance of ‘Catholic peace’. In the year 414 the Donatists were deprived of all their civil rights and the death penalty was threatened to those who celebrated their religious services. ‘Where there is love, there is peace’ (Augustine). Or as our bishop later declared triumphantly: Quodvult deus de Cartago: the viper has been crushed, or better still: it has been devoured.
After the year 418, the theme of the Donatists disappears for decades from the debates held in the synods of the North African bishops. In 420 it appears the last anti-Donatist writing of Augustine: Contra Gaudentium. In 429, with the invasion of the Vandals, the anti-Donatist imperial edicts also ended, which continued to call for annihilation. However, the schism lasted until the 6th century, although very weakened.
The sad remains that managed to escape the constant persecutions were destroyed a century later, along with Catholics, by Islam. African Christianity was undermined, bankrupt; finally, completely separated from Europe in the religious aspect, and escaped from its area of influence to fall into that of the Near East.
The most important ancient of the Christian churches, the only one in the Mediterranean, disappeared without a trace. There was nothing left of her. ‘But it was not due to Islam but to the persecutions against the Donatists, which made North Africa hate the Catholic Church so much that the Donatists received Islam as a liberation and converted to it’ (Kawerau).

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Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books) Psychology

Naïve dissent

‘I plan to spend the next few months here exploring a dizzying array of Western philosophers and theologians – St. Augustine…’ —Hunter Wallace

‘Dizzying’ is an euphemism. Does Wallace know that St Augustine was a monster? Just see the latest two instalments of Deschner’s book and judge by yourself; and I still have to add four more instalments from Deschner’s chapter on Augustine.
Wallace with Jared Taylor.
I was tempted to leave a link to my abridged translation of Deschner’s book in the comments section of Wallace’s recent article linking to videos about a naïve history of Christianity. But many Occidental Dissent commenters are as pious as the commenters of The Occidental Observer, who simply ignored me.
I wonder if these guys have even heard that an incredibly sourced[1] criminal history of their religion has been written? They remind me of the commies of Latin America, who have not heard about the criminal history of the Soviet Union from 1918 to 1956.
No true believer in leftism that I know in this part of the American continent has read Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago. Similarly, no American southern nationalist that I know has read Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums.
My previous post was about an English gentleman that I like very much. Unlike most white nationalists he is a fan of a bilingual collection of classical books that I also love. But in spite of his classic erudition he, like Wallace, ignores the real history of his religion for the simple reason that the Church was particularly successful in burning every single anti-Christian book of antiquity.
It is not until now, with the efforts of the late Deschner, that the whole history of Christianity has finally come to light. It is true that it has not been translated into English. But has anyone among the southern nationalists read at least my translation of ‘Rome vs. Judea; Judea vs. Rome’?
Without the knowledge of how the Jews infected the Aryan psyche since the times of the Roman Empire, it will be impossible to save the fair race from the current exterminationist program. It’s impossible for the simple reason that the virus for the mind has been implanted in the mentality of whites since the times of Constantine. Absence of knowledge of what happened since then translates into remaining at the mercy of the Semitic malware.

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[1] I am omitting the footnotes. In Deschner’s ten-volume work there are thousands of them.

Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books) Painting Theology

Kriminalgeschichte, 66

Sant’Agostino nello studio by Vittore Carpaccio (1502)

‘Genius in all fields of Christian doctrine’
[Augustine] often dictated at the same time discussions to several writings: 93 works or 232 ‘books’, he says in the year 427 in his Retractationes (which critically contemplate, so to speak, his work in chronological succession), to which we must add the production of his last years of life, in addition to hundreds of letters and sermons, with which he ‘almost always’ felt dissatisfied.
The intellectual production of Augustine was overrated, particularly from the Catholic side. ‘An intellectual giant like him, only the world offers it once every thousand years’ (Görlich). Maybe from the Catholic world! However, what he calls ‘intellectual stature’ is what serves him, and what serves him is detrimental to the world.
Augustine’s existence precisely reveals it drastically. However, J.R. Palangue praises him as ‘a genius in all fields of Christian doctrine’. And Daniel-Rops goes on to say: ‘If the word genius has any meaning, it is precisely here. Of all the gifts of the spirit that can be fixed analytically, none was missing; he had all, even those that are generally considered mutually exclusive’. Who is startled by such nonsense is called malevolent, malicious, ‘a creeping soul’ (Marrou). However, even the father of the Church Jerome, although out of envy, called his colleague ‘a little latecomer’. In the 20th century, the Catholic Schmaus flatly denies Augustine’s genius as a thinker.
The thought of Augustine? It is totally dominated by ideas of God, partly numbed by euphoria, partly terrified. His philosophy is, basically, theology. From an ontological point of view, it is based on hypotheses without any foundation. And there is a multitude of painful absences.
Augustine, whom Palangue praises saying: ‘With a flap he rises above any superficial objection’ usually is a prodigy of superficiality. Also the ‘professional orator’ of yesteryear (and today!) cheats through rhetorical tricks. He contradicts himself, especially in The City of God, a work with a strong influence of Arnobius that appeared between 413 and 426, his ‘magnum opus’ as he says, where he sometimes equates and others clearly differentiates his own fundamental concepts: ‘Roman Empire’ and ‘Diabolic State’. Or ‘Church’ and ‘God’s State’.
When he was a young Christian, he believed that miracles no longer occur, so that ‘no one is raised from the dead anymore’; when he gets old he believes otherwise. Already in 412 he had the idea of ‘collecting and showing everything that is rightly censured in my books’. And so, three years before his death he begins, since everything was ‘altered’, a complete book with rectifications, Retractationes, without really ‘rectifying’ everything. In any case, he introduced 220 corrections.
However, as many times as Augustine ‘rectified’ something, he refuted others’ work, placing the heading of many of his writings a ‘Contra […]’.
At the end of the 4th century he attacked the Manichaeans: Fortunatus, Adeimantus, Faust, Felix, Secundinus, as well as, in another series of books, Manichaeism: of which he himself was formally a follower for almost a decade, from 373 to 382, although as ‘listener’ (auditor), not as an electus. In three books Against Academics (386) he confronts scepticism. From the year 400 on he criticises Donatism; from 412 Pelagianism, and from 426 semi-Pelagianism. But next to these main objectives of his struggle, he also attacks with greater or lesser intensity the pagans, the Jews, the Arians, the astrologers, the Priscillians and the Apollinarians. ‘All the heretics hate you’ he praises his old rival Jerome, ‘just as they persecute me with the same hatred’.
More than half of Augustine’s writings are apologetics or have a controversial character. On the other hand, while, being a bishop, in thirty years he only once visited Mauritania, the less civilized province, he travelled thirty-three times to the incredibly rich Carthage, where, apparently as compensation for his modest convent diet, he liked copious lunches (for example roasted peacock); talk to important people and spend whole months with colleagues in hectic activity. The bishops already lived near the authorities and in the court, and were themselves courtiers; Augustine’s friend, Bishop Alypius, was arguing in Rome until the saint’s death.
Peter Brown, one of the most recent biographers of the leading theologian, writes: ‘Augustine was the son of a violent father and an inflexible mother. He could cling to what he considered objective truth with the remarkable ingenuity of his quarrelsome character’.
It should be noted that the increasingly violent aggression of Augustine, as manifested in his dispute with the Donatists, could also be a consequence of his prolonged asceticism. Before, as he himself confessed, he had had remarkable vital needs, ‘in lewdness and in prostitution’ he had ‘spent his strength’, and later he had energetically conjured ‘the tingling of desire’. He lived a long time in concubinage, later he took a girl as a girlfriend (she had almost two years to reach the legal age to get married: in girls twelve years) and at the same time a new darling. But for the cleric sexual pleasure is ‘monstrous’, ‘diabolical’, ‘disease’, ‘madness’, ‘rottenness’, ‘nauseating pus’, and so on.
Apart from that, was not he also feeling guilty about his long-time companion, whom he had forced to separate from himself and his son?

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¿Me Ayudarás? (book) Child abuse Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Kriminalgeschichte, 65

Augustine, the spiritual guide of the Church of the West, was born on November 13, 354 in Thagaste (now Souk-Ahras, Algeria), of petit-bourgeois parents. His mother, Monica, of strict Christian formation, educated her son in Christian thought, although she did not baptise him.
His father, Patricius, a pagan whose wife ‘served as a lord’, ‘became a believer towards the end of his temporary life’ (Augustine); he barely appears in all his work and Augustine only mentions him on the occasion of his death. Agustin had at least one brother, Navigius, and perhaps two sisters. One of them, when she was a widow, ended her life as the superior of a convent of nuns.
As a child, as a curious anecdote, Augustine did not like to study. His training began late, ended soon, and at first was overshadowed by coercion, beatings, useless protests and the laughter of adults for it, even his parents, who harassed him.

Editor’s Note:
This 15th-century painting of Niccolò di Pietro of Augustine taken to school by his mother is very deceptive. Scholars generally agree that Augustine and his family were Berbers, an ethnic group indigenous to North Africa. I find it extremely annoying and surreal how, after Christian takeover, Aryans meekly submitted their worldview to non-Aryans—and more annoying that even white nationalists continue to be blind to these facts!
Yesterday I modified my site previously called Fallen Leaves in order to start adding entries there, in which I rebut what a Mexican theologian said about the Shroud of Turin (which I will eventually translate for my shroud series in WDH). Previously, that site collected entries in English about child abuse, which was my specialty before discovering white nationalism in 2009.
I cannot avoid the idea that the mistreatments that Deschner mentions to the pubescent Augustine influenced his late theology. For example, a good part of my book ¿Me Ayudarás? is an analysis of my father’s misguided defence mechanisms—how he defended himself internally against the bullying at home and at school when he was a child. The point is that, if someone does not process these traumas, as an adult he will try to take revenge on innocents by repeating the abusive behaviour. I am sure that, had my father not been martyred as a child, he would not have launched invectives (‘To the eternal fire…’) as an adult when he spoke in the family.
I have read Augustine’s Confessions and I remember some passages in which he describes how his parents made fun of him while praying to avoid the bullying and beatings at school. I daresay that, had Augustine had an ‘accomplice witness’ as a boy, he would not have rationalised as fiercely as he did the doctrine of hell: where he put even unbaptized infants for eternal torment.
Deschner continues:

____________

At seventeen, the young man went to Carthage, rebuilt under Augustus. A rich bourgeois, Romanian, had supported the father of Augustine, who died at that time, allowing the son to carry out his studies. To tell the truth, he did not do it very hard. ‘What I liked’, admitted in his Confessions, was ‘to love and be loved’. He was seduced by ‘a wild chaos of tumultuous amorous entanglements’, he wandered ‘aimlessly through the streets of Babel’, he wallowed ‘in his mud, the same as in delicious spices and ointments’ while the Bible did not appeal to him either because of its content or its form, which seemed too simple.
Although he went to church, he went there to meet a female friend. And when he prayed, among other things he asked: ‘Give me chastity but not yet ’. He feared, indeed, that God would listen to him and ‘heal me of the disease of the carnal appetite, which I wanted to satiate rather than extirpate’. At eighteen he became a father. A concubine, who lived with him about a decade and a half, gave him a son in 372, Adeodatus (gift of God), who died in 389.
Augustine, whom on the night of Easter on April 25, 387 Ambrose baptised in Milan together with his son and his friend Alypius, was appointed in 391, despite a desperate opposition, presbyter of Hippo: a millennium-old port city, the second largest seaport in Africa. And in 395 Valerius, the old Greek bishop of the city, who spoke bad Latin, names him illegitimately, so Augustine confesses, ‘auxiliary bishop’ (coadjutor) contrary to the provisions of the Council of Nicaea, whose eighth canon prohibits the existence of two bishops in a city.

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Constantine Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Kriminalgeschichte, 64

Editor’s note: Is this the nose of an Aryan? St. Augustine was, in the world of the ideas of the decaying Roman Empire, what Constantine was for the State. Below, an abridged translation from the opening page of Karlheinz Deschner’s chapter on Augustine in Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums:

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Chapter 20: The Father of the Church Augustine
(354-430)

‘Augustine is the greatest philosopher of the patristic age and the most brilliant and influential theologian of the Church, full of ardent love for God and selfless altruism, surrounded by the soft glow of infinite goodness and the most attractive affability’.

—Martin Grabmann

‘As a brilliant thinker, acute dialectician, intelligent psychologist, of a rare religious ardour, at the same time an affable man, Augustine was already during his life the great guide of the Latin Church. For the later time, his importance cannot be greater’.

—E. Hendrikx

‘The force that moves me is love’.

—Augustine

‘Hidden vengefulness, petty envy, became master! Everything wretched, intrinsically ailing, and invaded by bad feelings, the whole ghetto-world of the soul was at once on top! One needs but read any of the Christian agitators, for example, St. Augustine, in order to realise, in order to smell, what filthy fellows came to the top’.

—Friedrich Nietzsche The Antichrist § 59

Christendom Destruction of Greco-Roman world Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books) Theodosius I

Kriminalgeschichte, 63

Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of
Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums:

Against Hellenism
An anti-Hellenistic law passed the following year sanctions for the offering of sacrifices as a crime of lese-majeste. In case incense was offered, the emperor confiscated ‘all the places that would have been hit by the smoke of the incense’ (turis vapore fumasse). If they were not owned by the person who burned it, he had to pay 25 pounds of gold, as well as the owner. The indulgent administrative chiefs were punished with 30 pounds of gold and their staff was charged the same amount. Geffcken considers this law ‘almost in the tone of a rhetorical missionary sermon’. Gerhard Rauschen speaks of the ‘funeral song of paganism’. It resulted in the prohibition of worship of the gods throughout the Empire.
In this way, many temples were victims of the Christian furore, such as that of Juno Caelestis in Carthage or that of Sarapis in Alexandria. Theodosius, who ‘eliminated the sacrilegious heretics’, as Ambrose praised him in his funeral address, transformed the temple of Aphrodite of Constantinople into a garage. He also threatened with exile or death for performing religious services of the Hellenistic superstition (gentilicia superstitio); it was forbidden to offer incense, light candles, place crowns and even private worship in the house itself. Augustine also praises this fanatic because ‘from the beginning of his government he had been tireless’, ‘helping the threatened (!) Church by very just and merciful laws against the pagans’, and because ‘he had the images of the pagan idols destroyed everywhere’.
But Theodosius repressed Hellenism even through a violent war; in circumstances that, once again, show the behaviour of Ambrose.
(Editor’s Note: Returning to my quotable quote from my previous entry, ‘Only revenge heals the wounded soul’. If whites will survive they must strike back: destroy all the Christian idols in addition to their temples. That alone would heal their psyche from suicidal Judaization: having dared to have a fucking jew as their personal lord and saviour. After three pages describing a bloody episode, Deschner continues:)
Augustine was also glad that the victor overthrew the statues of Jupiter placed in the Alps and that he gave his gold rays ‘gladly and obligingly’ to the messengers of the troops. ‘He had the images of the idols destroyed everywhere, for he had discovered that the granting of the earthly gifts also depends on the true God and not on the demons’. ‘That’s how the emperor was in peace and in war,’ says the devout Theodoret, full of joy. He always asked for God’s help and it was always granted’.

On January 17, 395, at 48 years of age, Theodosius died of dropsy. And Ambrose himself died, on April 4, 397. His remains rest today, which he had never imagined, in a coffin with those of the saints Gervase and Protase.

Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books) Theodosius I

Kriminalgeschichte, 62

The ignorance of Aryans in general and of white nationalists in particular exasperates me. Not long ago, a Christian commenter on Occidental Dissent glorified Theodosius in the comments section of that blog. Once one becomes acquainted with the history of Christianity written by a non-Christian, unheard-of facts emerge that the typical educated Westerner knows nothing about.
Left, an idealised painting of Ambrose barring Theodosius from Milan Cathedral as, in real life, Ambrose was a non-white. After hearing about the Massacre of Thessalonica, the bishop of Milan refused to celebrate a mass in the Emperor’s presence.
Below, an abridged translation from the first volume of Karlheinz Deschner’s Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (Christianity’s Criminal History).

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Theodosius’ massacres
What Theodosius ‘the Great’ was capable of is a good example of what happened in the year 387 in Antioch, after a revolt of the people as a result of an increase in taxes in February. The tax was exorbitant. Death sentences were issued, and countless people, including children, were beheaded, burned or thrown to the beasts—and yet, almost a trifle compared to the bloodbath of Thessalonica.
In February of the year 390 the people of Thessalonica killed Butheric, the Gothic military commander, because of the imprisonment of a popular charioteer, who was courting Butheric’s beautiful cup washer. The pious Theodosius, one of the ‘notoriously Christian sovereigns’ of the century (Aland), immediately ordered to gather the population into the circus with the lure of a spectacle, and had them killed right there.
Bishop Theodoret describes it in poetic terms: ‘as in the harvest of the ears, they were all cut off at once’. Although Theodosius later denied it, his slaughterers put to the knife, for several hours, more than seven thousand women, men, children and the elderly. It is one of the most monstrous massacres of Antiquity, which does not prevent St. Augustine from glorifying Theodosius as the ideal image of a Christian prince. The Church granted the sovereign the nickname of ‘the Great’ and went down in history as the ‘exemplary Catholic monarch’ (Brown).

Christendom Destruction of Greco-Roman world Karlheinz Deschner Kriminalgeschichte des Christentums (books)

Kriminalgeschichte, 61

Ambrose’s struggle against Hellenism
Like many other Church fathers, Ambrose was subject to the influence of Greco-Roman philosophy, especially Plotinus. However, he speaks of it quite critically, relating it to ‘idolatry’, a special invention of Satan, and also to the ‘heretics’, especially the Arians. If this philosophy has something good it is that it comes from the ‘Holy Scriptures’, from Ezra, David, Moses, Abraham and others. It also considers all the natural sciences as an attack on the ‘Deus maiestatis’. The Hellenism is for him, as a whole, an ‘arma diaboli’, and the fight against it ‘a fight against the Empire of the devil’ (Wytzes).
The young Gratian at first had given a good treatment to the Hellenists, but he learned from his spiritual mentor ‘to feel the Christian Empire as an obligation to repress the old religion of the state’ (Caspar). This was no longer difficult, since Christianity was established and paganism was in retreat. After the visit to Rome by Gratian and his co-regent in 376, the city, still largely clinging to the old faith, experienced the destruction of a sanctuary of Mithras by the prefect Gracchus, who, pending baptism, thus demonstrated his merits.
In the summer of 382, Ambrose was in Rome, probably horrified by the many Gentiles, the ‘demented dogs’, as were called by Pope Damasus I, a Spaniard, and while he was talking about persecution, the Christian members of the Senate had to pay their official oath before the image of the goddess Victoria.
At the end of that same year, the sovereign (who would soon be assassinated) disposed, ‘evidently by the advice of Ambrose’ (Thrade), ‘with all certainty not without the influence of his paternal adviser Ambrose’ (Niederhuber), a series of peremptory anti-Hellenist edicts for the city, by virtue of which the support of the State was withdrawn from various cults and clergy, like the popular Vestals, the exemption from taxes was annulled and the ownership of the land of the temples was denied.
The monarch also ordered the removal of the statue of the goddess Victoria, a masterpiece of Tarentum taken from the enemy and also a highly venerated symbol of Roman rule. Since Victoria was one of the oldest national deities, with a cult statue in the Senate hall since the time of Augustus (only Constantius II had recently withdrawn her), most of the senators and Hellenist citizens of Rome felt offended about what was most sacred.

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Evropa Soberana (webzine) God Jesus Karlheinz Deschner

On Christian nationalists

Because Amazon is already printing my books, and in another account The Fair Race will even be available, I removed the ads from my books that I had on the addendum to this site. I had titled it Daybreak Press but recently I modified it to, in my mother tongue, criticise Eschatology: a cult derived from Christian Science in which I was alienated throughout my twenties.
The founder of that sect, one William Walter, had crossed by a great agony in his youth to expurgate from his mind the idea of a personal god. Even during my perdition in Walter’s sect, I had already abandoned theism, as the idea of ‘God’ for the eschatologists is similar to that of the New Age in which each individual, not only Jesus, is Vere homo, vere Deus.
Although on the Addenda I now criticise Walter’s cult, his new vision of divinity is a clear advance compared to the idea of the volcanic demon worshiped by the ancient Hebrews: an idea that whites internalized with extraordinary ferocity since Constantine and his successors, except Julian, destroyed the classical world. Thus, the beautiful gods of the Hellenes were replaced by an exceedingly proud and primitive god, in whose Talmud it is said that the best among the Goyim must be exterminated.
But the idea of the providence of the ignorant Walter was not really new. It resembles, in a way, the new understanding of God of German philosophers such as Schelling and Hegel. Thanks to their philosophers, when Hitler created National Socialism, some Germans already had not only an idea of the divinity much more mature than the tribal god of the Hebrews (and of traditionalist Americans). The Germans also had a long history of exegetes who had subjected the New Testament to the highest possible scrutiny that one could imagine.
(Reimarus, who restarted the criticism on the historicity in the gospel narratives since the subject had been suppressed when the Christians burned Porphyry’s books.)
On this site I have criticized Albert Schweitzer for having migrated, as a good neo-Christian, to Africa to help blacks after abandoning traditional Christianity. However, his book, in which he reviews the long history of German exegetes who studied the gospels, is a classic. Many, like Schweitzer himself, had no choice but to abandon traditional dogma after such an undertaking.
Culturally but not geographically, I am closer to Europe and National Socialism than to the United States. For the same reason, every time I approach the new posts of pro-white sites in America, I am astonished to see how backward they are compared, say, to Hitler’s anti-Christian table talks (whose excerpts I find myself moving to Ex Libris). Hunter Wallace of Alabama, for example, concludes his entry today with these words ‘The solution to all this is found in Jesus the Christ’.
Compare his words with what I recently said in Pilate or Jesus?: ‘You do not realise that, with that admiration [of Jesus], you, like so many white nationalists who are still clinging to their parents’ religion, are doing something harmful to the white race’. It was in that same post where I added: ‘It is this kind of thing that produces a tectonic earthquake, it opens a grand canyon so to speak, between me and the [American] nationalists’.
Years ago, it seems to me that on Radio Free Mississippi, Wallace discussed with Alex Linder the theme of Christianity throughout the podcast. But Linder is monolingual: he did not know, at least when he argued with Wallace, the Spanish texts of Evropa Soberana and Karlheinz Deschner in German that we have been translating for this site. As I have said elsewhere, the masthead of this site is Soberana’s essay; what the ten volumes of Deschner provide is a huge bibliography that validates Soberana’s claims.
I do not harbour any illusions. I know that pro-white Americans will die addicted to the Judeo-Christian drug until their race finishes dying. But perhaps my work may be of some use to those who, as Walter and I suffered while repudiating the volcanic demon, are in the process of apostasy.

Tags Christian question (CQ), Germany, United States