The Churches
The Lost Tribes of Reading
By MONICA FURLONG AA READER from Reading has kindly sent us some pamphlets he found lying in a local church; and since they have an interest that extends beyond Reading, it seems worth while giving them a little publicity. The church is St. Mary the Virgin, Burghfield; the author is the Rector, the Rev. G. H. Nicholson; and the pam- phlets, which are a collection of articles already disseminated in the parish magazine. are given away free. Mr. Nicholson's theme is racialism.
In a pamphlet entitled Some Problems of Race he begins by pointing out that 'the races of the world are vastly different from each other.' Some of them, for example, are obviously inferior. Others, such as Our Race (I think he must mean the British) are not. God, whom Mr. Nicholson describes as the Great Racial Discriminator, has thoughtfully made it possible for us to tell at a glance which races are which. Those, for instance, with black skins—'the descendants of Ham'—are clearly meant to be the servants of the rest of us. Those with brownish skins, though slightly higher up the racial scale than the blacks, are still pretty inferior. Others again give away their racial inferiority by certain facial characteristics (of which more in a moment). All need to be kept firmly in their places. The future leadership of the world, or as Mr. Nicholson describes it, the Racial Mission, has been placed in the hands of Our Race by. God, and there is the Bible to prove it. 'Thou art an holy people unto the Lord thy God: the Lord 'thy God hath chosen thee to be a special people unto himself, above all people that are upon the face of the earth.'
Naturally, you will want to know how Mr. Nicholson discOvered we were so special, and he is quite equal to the task. On the wall of the Rectory, it seems, he has an Indian work of art in the form of an ornamental shield. The centre- piece, he says, 'depicts the delight of the victor in digging out the entrails of his dead opponent.' This clearly proves the degeneracy of• the Indians. I must admit this had me puzzled for a minute or two. After all, it is not so terribly long since Our Race was given to disembowelling people (first smartly removing their genitals) to the delight of vast crowds of onlookers. But then, quick as a flash, I saw Mr. Nicholson's drift. Our Race used to draw and quarter people while they were still alive, whereas those squeamish Indians only set about it after their enemies were dead, thus indicating that their guts (if you will pardon the expression) were scarcely British. Mr. Nicholson does not waste time enlarging upon the transparent inferiority of black Afri- cans, though he has some brisk advice about how to deal with all the nationalist nonsense that has been .wasting our time lately. We must, he tells us, 'intimidate the intimidators. That means deal- ing drastically, if necessary, with those blacks who hang about to give real threats of murder to other blacks.'
Having effectively settled Africa's hash, Mr. Nicholson proceeds to the Jews. I don't like to be the one to break the news to them, but what- ever they may think to the contrary, they are not God's Chosen People, no sir. (Three guesses who is.) They may have been once, a long, long time ago before Our Race really got into its stride, but they long since forfeited their rights by reck less miscegenation, or as Mr. Nicholson tactfully puts it `going after strange flesh.' Those of us who had thought that many of the Jews' diffi- culties had arisen for precisely the opposite reason, are shown our mistake. One glance, according to Mr. Nicholson, reveals all, since 'the show of their countenance doth witness against them: and they declare their sin as Sodom, they hide it not. Woe unto their soul!. for they have rewarded evil unto themselves.' None of his remarks, Mr. Nicholson tells us reasonably, are made in any spirit of anti- Semitism; it is just that he can't help pointing out that what he calls 'the familiar Jewish coun- tenance' is not the Israel countenance, but is composed, it appears, from genes of various slave races such as the Amorites and the Hittites. For those who, in their stupidity, had thought their Jewish acquaintance looked much like every- body else, Mr. Nicholson pinpoints the old Amorite/Hittite look, i.e., shortness of stature, dark hair, hook noses and sallow complexions, so that we shall know in future. And how, he asks `could they [the Jews] function as God's instru- ments of blessing to man with the sign of this sin stamped on their countenance?' God, apparently, is particular about the looks of those who work for Him, and Church Assembly, who recently said that miscegenation didn't matter, had better think again.
And who is God's instrument of blessing, who is the true Israel? Our Race, of course. Our pure, unmixed, pedigree, holy Island Race. I must say it has given me a new conceit of myself. Tossing back my straight blonde hair, flashing my peri- winkle eyes, tilting my snub . . . (can anyone recommend a good plastic surgeon? There is a frightful rumour in the family that not only was' great-grandfather not a member of Our Race, but that he contained a disastrous admixture of Amorite/Hittite blood) I am about to sally out and cut all my black, brown, yellow and khaki acquaintances, as well as taking careful sidelong glances at everyone else. I do rather desperately need Mr. Nicholson's advice on one point, though. There is an apocryphal story about the Nazi occupation of Brussels, that on the day when Jews there were required to start wearing the Star of David in public, every Catholic altar in the city carried a figure proudly wearing its yellow star. And this makes me wonder. Is it just possible that Jesus Christ did not belong to Our Race? That his face may have carried a degenerate trace of Amorite/Hittite blood? would be so glad if Mr. Nicholson would eluci- date the matter.
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