The Turner Diaries
Chapter IX
November 9, 1991. What a day! At two o'clock this
afternoon an extraordinary session of the Congress convened to hear an
address by the President. He was to ask for special legislation which
would allow the government to stamp out "racism" and combat terrorism more
effectively. One thing he intended to ask the Congress for,
according to the press, was the long-expected internal-passport law.
Despite our destruction last month of the computer to be used with this
passport program, the government is obviously pressing ahead with
it. The Capitol had been surrounded by somewhere between
3,000 and 5,000 secret policemen and armed, uniformed soldiers. Jeeps with
mounted machine guns were everywhere. There were even two tanks and
several APC's. Members of the press and Congressional
staffers had to pass through three separate rings of barricades and barbed
wire, at each of which they were thoroughly searched for weapons, in order
to approach the Capitol. Helicopters whirred overhead. No band of
guerrillas bent on sabotage or assassination could have gotten within two
blocks of the place, even in a suicide dash. In fact, the
government obviously overdid the security arrangements just to heighten
the sense of urgency of the occasion. The spectacle of all the troops and
guns around the Capitol left no doubt in the minds of the TV viewers, I am
sure, that there is an emergency situation in the country which calls for
the strongest possible measures from the government. Then,
as the TV cameras were preparing to switch from the crowded scene outside
the Capitol to the speaker's podium in the House chamber, where the
President would be speaking, a mortar round-although no one realized
that's what it was- exploded about 200 yards northwest of the building. TV
watchers heard the explosion but couldn't see anything except an
indistinct puff of gray smoke floating above the
Capitol. For the next few seconds there was general
confusion. Soldiers with gas masks on were scurrying in one direction,
while grim-faced secret policemen with drawn pistols were running in the
other direction. The TV commentator announced breathlessly that someone
had set off a bomb in one of the Capitol parking lots. He
babbled on for a little less than a minute, speculating as to who had done
it, how they had managed to get the bomb past the security forces, how
many persons had been hurt by the blast, and so on. Then the second round
landed. This one went off with a bang and a flash about 50
yards in front of the TV camera. It made almost a direct hit on a squad of
soldiers manning a machine gun behind a heap of sandbags in the Capitol's
east parking lot. "It's our mortar!" I shouted. It must
have also dawned simultaneously on every man with military experience
watching the scene that a mortar was responsible for the two
explosions. Mortars are marvelous little weapons,
especially for guerrilla warfare. They drop their deadly rounds silently
and almost vertically onto their target. They can be fired from total
cover, and persons in the target area cannot tell from which direction the
projectiles are coming. In this case I guessed immediately
that our people were firing from a secluded, densely wooded area on the
west bank of the Potomac, just over two miles from the Capitol. Henry and
I had checked the area out some time ago for just such a purpose, because
every important Federal building in Washington is within 81 mm-mortar
range of it. About 45 seconds after the second round the
third one landed on the roof of the south wing of the Capitol and exploded
inside the building. They had the range now, and the projectiles began
raining down at four-to-five second intervals. Practically everyone,
including most of the TV crews, had scrambled for cover, but one intrepid
cameraman remained at his post. We saw beautiful blossoms
of flame and steel sprouting everywhere, dancing across the asphalt,
thundering in the midst of splintered masonry and burning vehicles,
erupting now inside and now outside the Capitol, wreaking their bloody
toll in the ranks of tyranny and treason. It was all over
in about three minutes, but while it lasted it was the most magnificent
spectacle I have ever seen. What an impression it must have made on the
general public watching it on TV! And there was more
excitement today, both in California and New York. The Los Angeles City
Council was convened for the sake of watching a telecast of the
President's address to Congress before voting on several "anti-racist"
ordinances of their own. Just about the time the fireworks started here,
four of our men, using phony police identification, walked into the
council meeting there and began throwing grenades. Eight council members
were killed outright, and our men made a clean getaway. An
hour earlier, in New York, the Organization used a bazooka to shoot down
an airliner which had just taken off for Tel Aviv with a load of
vacationing dignitaries, mostly Jews. There were no survivors. (Note to
the reader: A "bazooka" was a portable launcher for small rockets, used
primarily as an infantry weapon against armored vehicles during World War
11, 60-54 BNE, and already obsolete by 8 BNE. Tel Aviv was the largest
city in Palestine during the period of Jewish occupation of that
unfortunate country in the Old Era. The ruins of the city are still too
radioactive for human habitation.) All in all, it has been
a busy day for the Organization! I am greatly invigorated by these
demonstrations of our capability for launching multiple, simultaneous
strikes against the System, and I am sure that the same is true of all our
comrades. Despite all the noise and smoke and wreckage
caused by our attack on the Capitol, only 61 persons were killed, we
learned from later news reports. Among these are two Congressmen, one
sub-cabinet official, and four or five senior Congressional staffers. But
the real value of all our attacks today lies in the psychological impact,
not in the immediate casualties. For one thing, our efforts
against the System gained immeasurably in credibility. More important,
though, is what we taught the politicians and the bureaucrats. They
learned this afternoon that not one of them is beyond our reach. They can
huddle behind barbed wire and tanks in the city, or they can hide behind
the concrete walls and alarm systems of their country estates, but we can
still find them and kill them. All the armed guards and bulletproof
limousines in America cannot guarantee their safety. That is a lesson they
will not forget. Now they are all raging at us and solemnly
promising the public that they will stamp us out, but after they have had
a chance to think about it some of them will be ready to consider "buying
insurance." The great weakness of the System is its utter moral
corruption. They have us vastly outmanned and outgunned, but not one of
their leaders is motivated by anything other than self-interest. They are
ready to betray the System the instant they can see an advantage in doing
so. For now, we mustn't let them know that they are all
inevitably headed for the gallows. Let them think they can make a deal
with us and save their necks when the System falls. Only the Jews are
under no illusions in this regard. As for the public, it's
a little early yet to know what the spectrum of their reactions to today's
exploits will be. Most of them, of course, will believe just what they're
told to believe. Basically, they want to be left alone with their beer and
their television sets. Their mentality is a reflection of the movie-fan
magazines and the TV sitcoms with which the System keeps them saturated.
(Note to the reader: The word "sitcom" apparently refers to a type of
television program popular during the last years of the Old
Era.) Nevertheless, we must carefully monitor the public's
feelings toward the System and toward us. Although the great majority of
them will continue to support the System as long as their refrigerators
are kept full, it is from the public that we must draw our recruits in
order to make up for our losses. Our present inability to
recruit is a source of great worry to everyone. Rumor has it that there
has not been a single new recruit in the Washington area in the last two
months. During that time we've lost approximately 15 per cent of our
strength. I hope conditions aren't as bad elsewhere. Of all
the segments of the population from which we had hoped to draw new
members, the "conservatives" and "right wingers" have been the biggest
disappointment. They are the world's worst conspiracy-mongers - and also
the world's greatest cowards. In fact, their cowardice is exceeded only by
their stupidity. The current conspiracy theory being
circulated among conservatives is that the Organization is actually in the
pay of the System. We are hired provocateurs whose job is to raise enough
hell to justify the repressive counterrevolutionary and anti-racist
measures the System is taking. If we would just stop rocking the boat,
things would be easier on everyone. Whether they believe that theory or
not, it gives them an excuse for not joining us. At the
other extreme, the knee-jerk liberals have forgotten all about their
"radical chic" enthusiasm of a few years ago, now that we are the
radicals. They take their ideological cues from the "smart" magazines and
columnists, and the "in' thing at the moment is to be solidly pro-System.
In their own way, the liberals, despite their pretensions to
sophistication, are as mindless and as easily manipulated as the
conservatives. The Christians are a mixed bag. Some of them
are among our most devoted and courageous members. Their hatred of the
System is based on-in addition to the reasons the rest of us have-their
recognition of the System's role in undermining and perverting
Christendom. But all the ones who are still affiliated with
major churches are against us. The Jewish takeover of the Christian
churches and corruption of the ministry are now virtually complete. The
pulpit prostitutes preach the System's party line to their flocks every
Sunday, and they collect their 30 pieces of silver in the form of
government "study" grants, "brotherhood" awards, fees for speaking
engagements, and a good press. The libertarians are another
group which is divided. About half of them support the System and half are
against it. They are all against us, however. The ones who are against the
System just happen to see the System as a bigger threat than the
Organization. As our credibility grows, more and more libertarians will
support the System. There is probably no way we can use this
group. No, there is not much hope for making inroads into
any of these various ideological segments of the population. If we are
able to find new recruits, it will be among those who are presently
uncommitted. The System's brainwashing has not bent
everyone's mind out of shape. There are still millions and millions of
good people out there who neither believe the System's propaganda nor have
allowed themselves to be seduced to the animal-like level of existence of
so many who live solely for the sake of gratifying their senses. How can
we motivate these people to join us? Life is uglier and
uglier these days, more and more Jewish. But it is still moderately
comfortable, and comfort is the great corrupter, the great maker of
cowards. It seems that, for the time being, we have already caught all the
real revolutionaries in America in our net. Now we must learn how to make
some more, and quickly.
November 14. We had a visit
from Henry today, and I learned some of the details of Monday's mortar
attack on the Capitol. It had involved only three of our people: Henry and
the man who helped him carry the mortar parts and the projectiles to their
pre-selected firing spot in the woods and get everything set up, and a
girl with a small transmitter in a park a few blocks from the Capitol who
served as a spotter. She radioed range corrections to Henry's helper,
while Henry dropped the projectiles into the tube. The range settings I
had calculated had been almost perfect. They used up all
the 81 mm ammunition which was stolen from Aberdeen last month, and Henry
wanted to know whether I could improvise some more. I explained to him the
difficulty of the task. Bombs we can make-fairly
sophisticated ones, too. But mortar projectiles are something else. They
are far too complex for our present capabilities. Anything I might be able
to improvise would be a very crude approximation to the real thing, with
nowhere near the accuracy. We will just have to raid another armory, with
all the risks that entails, before we can use our mortar
again. Another thing I talked to Henry about is the rash of
relatively minor bombings which have occurred in the last two or three
days. There have been a hundred or more of them all around the country,
including four in Washington, and they have puzzled me in several
respects, mainly the choice of targets - banks, department stores,
corporation offices-but also their apparent amateurishness. For every bomb
which exploded, it seems that the police discovered at least one which
fizzled. Henry confirmed my suspicions: the bombings-at
least, those in this area-are not the work of the Organization. That is
interesting. We seem to have unintentionally galvanized some of the latent
anarchists-or God knows what-who have been lurking in the
woodwork. The media, of course, have been attributing
everything to us- which is embarrassing, in view of the amateurishness-but
perhaps the phenomenon itself is not a bad development. At least, the
secret police will have a lot more to keep them busy, and that will take
some of the pressure off us. The growth of nihilism, which
the System has encouraged for so long, may now be paying off for us
instead of for the System. Today I had a rather interesting experience
myself in this regard. I had to go into Georgetown to take
care of a minor communications problem for Unit 4. Georgetown, once the
most stylish area of Washington, has succumbed in the last five years to
the same plague which has turned the rest of the nation's capital into an
asphalt jungle. Most of the high-priced shops have given way to "gay"
bars, massage parlors, porn stalls, liquor stores, and similar capitalist
ventures. Garbage litters the sidewalks, and Blacks, who used to be pretty
scarce there, are swarming all over. But there are still
many Whites living in Georgetown-after a fashion. The once-fashionable
townhouses have their windows boarded up now, but many are occupied by
colonies of squatters, mostly young dropouts and
runaways. They lead a marginal, brutal existence, begging
for handouts in the streets, rummaging through trash bins for leftovers,
occasionally stealing. Some of the girls engage in casual prostitution.
Virtually all of them-or so I thought until today -keep themselves in a
permanently drugged condition. Since the System stopped enforcing the drug
laws last year, heroin has been about as cheap and easy to get as
cigarettes. The cops generally leave them alone, although
some of the stories about what goes on among these kids are horrifying.
Inside their strongholds, the boarded-up buildings in which they cook and
eat and sleep and make love and give birth and pump dope into their veins
and die, they seem to have reverted to a pre-civilized life style. Kooky
religious cults, involving lots of incense and incantations, flourish
among them. Various brands of Satan-worship, reminiscent of the ancient
Semitic cults, are especially prevalent. Ritual torture and ritual murder
are rumored to take place, as well as ritual cannibalism, ritual sex
orgies, and other non-Western practices. I had finished my
chore for Unit 4-which, having some of our more Bohemian members, blends
more unobtrusively into the Georgetown scene than any of our other units
could-and was headed back to the bus stop when I came across an
all-too-familiar incident. Two young thugs-they looked like Puerto Ricans
or Mexicans-were struggling on the sidewalk with a redheaded girl, trying
to pull her into a doorway. A prudent citizen would have
passed by without interfering, but I stopped, watched for a moment, and
then started toward the struggling trio. The two swarthy males were
distracted just enough by my approach to give the girl a chance to break
free. They glared at me and shouted a few obscenities, but they did not
try to catch the girl, who quickly put a hundred feet or so between
herself and her would-be abductors. I turned and went on my
way. The girl walked slowly, allowing me to catch up to her. "Thanks," she
said, flashing me a warm smile. She was really quite pretty, but very
shabbily dressed and no older than 17-obviously one of Georgetown's
"street people. "
I chatted with her as we walked
along. One of the first pieces of information I elicited from her was that
she had not eaten in two days and was very hungry. We stopped at a
sidewalk diner, and I bought her a hamburger and a milkshake. After that
she was still hungry, so l bought another hamburger and some french fries
for her. While she ate we talked, and I learned several
interesting things. One was that life among the dropouts is more
diversified than I had thought. There are colonies which are on drugs and
colonies which strictly abstain from drugs, colonies which are racially
mixed and all-White colonies, sexually balanced colonies and all-male
"wolf packs." The groups are also divided along religious-cult
lines. Elsa-that is her name-said she has never been on
drugs. She left the group she was living with two days ago, after a
domestic dispute, and was in the process of being dragged into the lair of
a "wolf pack" when I happened by. She also gave me some
good leads as to who is responsible for the recent bombings which puzzled
Henry and me. It seems to be general knowledge among her friends that
several of the Georgetown colonies are "into that sort of thing-you know,
trashing the pigs." Elsa herself seems to be completely
apolitical and not concerned one way or another about the bombings. I
didn't want to pry too much and make her think I was a cop, so I didn't
push her for more information on the subject. Under the
circumstances I really couldn't afford to bring Elsa back to our
headquarters with me-but I still had to fight the temptation. I slipped
her a five-dollar bill when we parted, and she assured me she would find a
place for herself in one of the groups without difficulty. Probably she
would go back to the group she had left. She gave me their address, so I
could look her up. Thinking it over this evening, it seems
to me that we may be overlooking some potentially useful allies among
these young dropouts. Individually they are not very impressive, to be
sure, but it may very well be that we can make use of them in a collective
wav. It bears further consideration.

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