On August 10, 1994, for the first time in my life, I suddenly found
myself living in a universe which did not contain Revilo Pendleton
Oliver.
As a child, I often wondered what it would have been like to know Poe or
Jefferson. We who have had the rare honor of knowing Dr. Oliver now know
what it is like to know genius and to know greatness.
My wife and I visited Dr. and Mrs. Oliver in July 1994, about one month
before his death. At that time my wife was pregnant with our second
child, Edgar Alfred Strom. My first-born son, Oskar Oliver Strom, was
named to honor Revilo Oliver. I hope that our growing family, and our
family's dedication to the cause for which Revilo Oliver sacrificed so
much, gave him some small satisfaction.
Our children are our replacements, just as we were for our parents. The
unbroken chain of life springing from life goes backwards through the
aeons to its mysterious beginning, and forward toward the unknowable but
inevitable future. We are all links in this possibly infinite chain of
existence, but some of us are more conscious of that fact than others.
If our race's future lies, as I believe it does, in the stars rather
than in the nothingness of extinction, then Revilo Oliver's
consciousness was a consciousness of the future, an example of the
intellectual and spiritual greatness of which European man is capable.
Dr. Oliver shunned sentimental illusions and was often pessimistic about
the future of our race. But his existence on this planet is, to me,
evidence that our future path is upward to understanding and mastery of
the universe, and not downward through a mongrelized squalor to the
primordial slime where, if there is hope beyond hope, Nature might try
again to succeed where we failed.
Lately, every day, many times per day, I am reminded of Dr. Oliver.
There is the car in which we rode together, in my driveway. There is the
photograph we took when we introduced him to his namesake, my son. There
are tapes of his speeches which he entrusted to me. There is the
priceless file of his letters to me, which he took the time and precious
energy to write. There, at the end of my arm, is the hand he clasped so
strongly and warmly just a few months ago.
Dr. Oliver was not afraid, and we of European descent should not be
afraid to use the term Aryan. Today we are told that it is merely a
linguistic term with no racial connotations. The originators of the
term, the founders of the ancient civilization of India, the racially
European conquerors of that subcontinent, would not have agreed. In
their language it meant
noble,
and they used it in a
specifically racial sense, drawing a distinction between their race of
nobles, of Aryans, and the races of the conquered. I suggest that it be
used only in a racial sense. For example, I do not
think we should be debarred from using it to describe those branches of
our race who do not speak an Indo-European language, such as the Finns
and Hungarians. It should not be applied indiscriminately to every White
person, however. In my opinion, its use should be limited to describe
those of our race who truly deserve to be called noble -- those who by
their appearance, their actions, their character, their intellect, and
their consciousness of their mission to bring forth a higher type of
humankind on this planet, deserve to be the progenitors of future
generations of our race. By such a standard, Revilo Oliver was an Aryan
among Aryans. The Shah of Iran had a title which he did not deserve, and
which Revilo Oliver did deserve: Light of the Aryans.
Often have I been filled with regret when death has come to someone I
have loved. That regret is that there were still things left unsaid,
things that needed to be said before the end, but which were not said.
That is not the case between me and Revilo Oliver. I was able to tell
him how much I loved him, how much he had affected my life, how much he
had inspired me and thousands like me, and how, as long as I drew
breath, the Cause for which he lived would continue. I promised him that
his written works and his works of the spoken word would live in the
hearts and minds of more and more men and women of our race, and that
his contribution would never be forgotten.
Revilo Oliver had no biological children. We, who had the rare privilege
of knowing him and learning from him, and who now must carry on in a
universe suddenly without him, are his spiritual children. We must
strive to reverence Truth as he did. And we must fight to bring his
Truth to victory.
This article was based on Kevin Alfred Strom's address to the Revilo P.
Oliver Memorial Symposium which took place in Urbana, Illinois, November
1994. A videotape of the symposium is available for $62.95, including
postage.
A Tribute to Robert Mathews
by Kevin Alfred Strom
Another man I want to honor gave his life for his people, yet few of us
today even know his name. He was a man who, in 1983, began something
that some have said was premature, and others have said was too late.
What he began, or attempted to begin, in 1983 was the Second American
Revolution. His name was Robert Mathews. In 1983 he formed a group he
called the Silent Brotherhood and began an abortive armed guerrilla
battle against the enemies of our race. On December 8, 1984, Robert
Mathews was burned alive by an FBI task force on Whidbey Island,
Washington.
Since his plan to retake America with a small group of armed
revolutionaries was not successful, it is easy for us to say that the
time was not right, or that tactical errors were made. But was he too
early? I don't think so. America needed a second American Revolution a
long time ago. The American people should have sent the alien
subversives and traitors packing before I was born, surely by 1950 when
the treason of the Franklin Roosevelt regime had been made manifest by
McCarthy and by many others. Was Robert Mathews too late? I shudder at
that possibility, and we must not let such thoughts deter us from our
duty. My opinion is that our people were not ready, and our duty must be
to make them ready in body, soul, and mind for the Herculean task of
national renewal which lies before us. Robert Mathews and his comrades
in arms who now suffer as political prisoners will never be forgotten,
and to honor them I ask every reader to rededicate yourself to the
struggle for our racial and cultural survival.
If you are interested in learning more about Robert Mathews, I urge you
to get a copy of his speech, entitled A Call to Arms. It
is an impassioned address given in 1983, shortly before he embarked on
his revolutionary attempt to free America from her oppressors. The
author of A Call to Arms, and his fellow patriots, will
one day be regarded as the equivalent of the embattled farmers who
braved the guns of the British Empire to regain their freedom in the
first American Revolution. Those farmers fired "the shots heard round
the world." This tape includes an important introduction and afterword
by Dr. William Pierce.
A Call to Arms is available from National Vanguard Books.
at
the Battle of Cowpens, S. Carolina, 1781