Lessons From The Iliad
ADV Broadcast Of July 9, 2011
Hello, and welcome to another broadcast of American Dissident Voices, the Internet radio program of the National Alliance. I’m your host and Chairman of the Alliance, Erich Gliebe.
Currently, the Women’s World Cup Soccer Tournament is taking place in Germany. During last year’s Men’s World Cup, I ranted about the vast number of non-Whites playing for European teams, particularly France and even Germany. Now, from what I’ve observed from the Women’s World Cup is that the teams are a little Whiter, however, I attribute that to the fact that very few Muslim women play soccer.
Even with that said, though, the situation on the German team is downright disgusting. Playing for Germany is some sort of mulatto named Celia Okoyino Da Mbabi. What the hell is that, you say? Well she sure isn’t German, rather a wildebeest-looking creature with a father from Cameroon and a French mother. Imagine the gall of the New World Order crowd for trying to pass this thing off as being a “German.”
Alright, I’ve done enough ranting. Let’s discuss some true White culture.
The Iliad by Homer is one of our race’s greatest epics. As best as historians can determine, The Iliad was penned around the year 750 BC and the events that it recounts are supposed to have taken place about 500 years before that. Those events, of course, deal with the great war between the Trojans, who are defending their walled city Troy, and the invading Greeks, who are camped out on the beaches by their black ships.
What I’d like to do today is something a little different from what we usually do on this program. Today, I’d like to relate to you the basic story of Homer’s great epic and then discuss some of the lessons we can glean from The Iliad to our racial situation today.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the story, or those of you who once knew the story but need a reminder, I’ll give you a synopsis. Not all of the story of the Trojan War, by the way, is found in The Iliad; some of it, especially the events leading up to the war, have to be gathered from other Greek legends and myths. Only together do the myths and The Iliad make a complete story.
Zeus, the Father of the Greek gods, desires the beautiful goddess Thetis, a sea nymph. But it is rumored about Thetis that she is destined to bear a son who is greater than his father and, after learning that, Zeus promptly loses interest. Instead, he chooses a mortal, King Peleus of the Myrmidons, for Thetis. At the wedding feast, the goddess Discord – who was not invited – throws a golden apple into the midst of the party. Across it is an inscription: “For the Fairest.”
Of course, all of the goddesses wish to claim the apple. The three top contenders are Hera, queen of the gods; Athene, goddess of war and of wisdom; and Aphrodite, goddess of beauty. When no decision can be made, the three goddesses agree to allow an ordinary mortal to decide. They go to a young shepherd on Mount Ida and demand that he choose between them. The shepherd is Paris who, unbeknownst to him, is actually a prince of nearby Troy, but who was sent up to the hills to die when his mother, Queen Hecuba, had a vision that the unborn son she carried would grow up to cause Troy to be put to the torch. When the boy was born, King Priam of Troy dispatched him to the hills, where – unfortunately for Troy – some shepherds found him, took pity on him, and raised him to manhood.
The three goddesses corner young Paris, hand him the golden apple, and demand that he give it to the fairest of them. To “help” Paris decide, they each offer him gifts. Hera will make him king of the world if he chooses her. Athene will give him all wisdom. Then it is Aphrodite’s turn. She steps forward and offers to make the fairest woman in the world his wife. Paris’s fate is clear: he hands the precious apple to the goddess of beauty. Hera and Athene are incensed and vow revenge on Paris and his kinsmen, while Aphrodite tells Paris who he really is and triumphantly leads him back to Troy, where he is welcomed as a true prince of the Trojans.
Sometime later, Aphrodite keeps her promise. The most beautiful woman in the world, Helen of Sparta, falls in love with Paris and they flee from the house of her husband, King Menelaus. Paris and Helen return to Troy and Menelaus, obviously peeved that his wife has run off with another man, convinces his brother Agamemnon, the king of Mycenae, to raise an invasion fleet that includes warriors from all over Greece. The fleet sails east to besiege Troy, which is located on the western coast of what is now Turkey. For nine long years, the war is fought to a standoff, with neither side able to gain a decisive advantage. The Greeks (who are, incidentally, never referred to as Greeks in the text, but are alternately called Achaeans, Argives, or Danaans) are unable to capture the walled city, but neither are the Trojans able to drive the Achaeans from their toehold on the coast.
But this struggle isn’t just between men. The Hellenic gods, too, have chosen sides in the contest, and they occasionally come to blows over the welfare of the mortals who struggle against Fate on the plains of Troy. Predictably, the angry goddesses Hera and Athene support the Achaeans, but so does Poseidon, the god of the sea and of earthquakes. Aphrodite, the sun god Apollo, and the war god Ares support the Trojans. Zeus helps both sides at one time or another, but he seems to be the only one who realizes that, in the end, it really isn’t up to him WHO wins the war: Fate has already decreed that the Trojans will ultimately go down to defeat.
Anyway, in The Iliad, Homer picks up the story in the tenth year of the Trojan War. Since the Achaeans are unable to take Troy, they busy themselves procuring provisions, booty, and slaves from the nearby towns around Troy that are relatively unprotected. In one such raid, the greatest of all Achaean fighters – indeed, the greatest warrior in the whole world – Achilles is awarded by agreement of the entire Achaean army a beautiful girl to be his own. Achilles falls in love with the girl and plans to marry her when he returns home. Achilles, by the way, is the son of the sea nymph Thetis and the mortal King Peleus, at whose wedding feast the goddess Discord set this whole nasty business in motion. The son of Thetis does indeed turn out to be greater than his father, although he also is found to have some serious personality flaws, which surface as The Iliad unfolds.
The commander of the Achaeans, Agamemnon, is also awarded a slave girl. This girl’s father happens to be a priest of Apollo, and he comes to Agamemnon to offer a large ransom for the return of his daughter. Agamemnon rudely refuses the offer of gifts and kicks the priest out of his tent, threatening to kill him if he comes back and telling him that his daughter is going to spend a good many years in his service, both in the house and in the bedroom.
The priest is understandably scared to death and hurries away, but he prays to Apollo to take vengeance on the Achaeans. Apollo hears the prayer and, for the next nine days, terrorizes the Achaean army, killing their livestock and even some soldiers. At a meeting of the Achaean leaders on the tenth day, Achilles demands that Apollo be appeased by Agamemnon: Give the priest’s daughter back, and thereby sooth the sun god’s anger. In order to save his army, Agamemnon agrees, but he is livid and, as compensation, he demands that Achilles turn over HIS slave girl to Agamemnon. Although Achilles is clearly the greatest fighter among the Achaeans, Agamemnon is the acknowledged leader of the army, and Achilles has little choice but to give his girl to the king of Mycenae.
What follows next carries through in the entire rest of the tale and, incidentally, is why some scholars have given The Iliad the subtitle of “The Rage of Achilles.” Achilles begrudgingly gives up his girl to his high-riding commander, but in retribution he refuses to fight, so long as his honor is sullied. He and his Myrmidon host remain encamped by their black ships in the coming days, as the battles between Trojans and Achaeans rage anew. And without Achilles in the fight, the Achaeans are gradually driven back by the resurgent Trojans, led by the gallant and warlike Hector, like Paris a son of King Priam.
And it isn’t long before the battle turns into a slaughter. On all sides, the Trojans are pressing forward and, at one point, they almost reach the black ships in an attempt to set them afire. As things go from bad to worse for the Achaeans, Agamemnon finally agrees to return Achilles’ girl to him along with a multitude of other gifts in an effort to bring Achilles back into the fight. Achilles sneers at the offer, stating again that he will return to the battle only when Agamemnon has suffered dishonor equal to that that Achilles has suffered. The ongoing butchering of his countrymen at the hands of Hector and the Trojans doesn’t faze him a bit. His rage is so great, his heart so cold that it seems as if the Achaean army is doomed to perish on the beaches of Troy.
Finally, Achilles friend Patroclus has had enough. He pleads with Achilles to join the fight. Again, Achilles refuses. As a last result, Patroclus asks if he himself can put on Achilles’ armor and lead the Myrmidon host into battle to save the day for the Achaeans. The boost in morale for the Achaeans upon seeing “Achilles” in battle, coupled with the fear that the same sight will have on the Trojans…might just turn the tide of battle. At last, Achilles agrees.
Patroclus puts on Achilles’ armor and leads the Myrmidons into battle. They drive the Trojans back from the black ships and push them back up the plain toward the walled city.
But Patroclus goes too far. Ignoring Achilles’ demand that he return to the ships as soon as the immediate danger of Trojan victory has passed, Patroclus presses the fight all the way up the plain to the city gates. There, as Fate would have it, the Trojans kill him, with Hector providing the final and fatal wound. Hector presses his small victory into a larger one, and again the Trojans assault the beaches and actually succeed in setting fire to one of the Achaean ships.
Only when Achilles finds out that Patroclus is dead does he agree to rejoin the fight, consumed by grief and anger over the loss of his friend. And Achilles becomes the unstoppable buzz-saw on the forest of the Trojan army, hacking and slicing and stabbing his way through the Trojans and their allies. Even the martial valor of the great Hector is no match for the enraged Achilles, who kills the Trojan hero and dishonors the corpse of his worthy adversary, stripping off Hector’s armor and dragging his body behind a chariot day after day, nursing his rage and dishonoring himself in the process.
Finally, old King Priam, Hector’s father, journeys to Achilles’ tent with a cartful of wealth to ransom his son. Achilles accepts the ransom and at last lets go of his anger. The stage is then set for Achilles’ death: he is hit in the heel by an arrow from the bow of Helen-wooing Paris. And at last, as the Fates had stipulated, Troy was destroyed…with a little help from a large, hollow wooden horse and some credulous Trojans who brought it inside their up-to-this-point impregnable walled city.
The above synopsis is far from complete, but it covers most of the important events of Homer’s great epic. Also, the Greek gods and goddesses, which I largely left out of my synopsis, play very prominent roles throughout the story. These roles of the deities are integral to the sequence of events, and no synopsis can capture the full flavor of the gods’ attention to and passion for the great conflict before the walls of Troy. One can only appreciate that flavor by taking in the entire work.
One more warning to those who wish to try a full reading of The Iliad for the first time: you can’t rush through it, and have no fear that my telling you the main line of the story will ruin the experience. In fact, it should make the story more understandable for the first-time reader, since you know where the tale is heading. Homer’s first epic, like many others, contains countless little side journeys off of the beaten path of the main story. It is as though the main story is a wide river, off of which are many coves, inlets, and tributaries. Homer takes us down the river, but he also takes us often to see the “sideshows” along the river, and the result is a more convoluted, less direct story line. The tradeoff, though, is a richer, more colorful narrative, and these give the story a depth and a substance that no synopsis can convey.
As those of you who have been White racialists for a number of years know, of course, it is difficult to read any book and not relate the book’s contents to our racial situation today. Our mindset is centered on race, and it is through that lens that we view everything with which we come into contact. I’d like to spend our last few minutes pulling out some of the ideas in The Iliad and taking a 21st Century, White man’s look at them.
Firstly, the fact that the Trojan War was a fratricidal war – a brothers’ war, a White-man-versus-White-man war – is distasteful to us today. We’ve seen too much of that down through the centuries and it has little place in the 21st Century. We Whites are too precious to be killing each other any longer. However, one must get past this during one’s reading of The Iliad in order to enjoy the epic, and there’s nothing wrong with that as long as we remember that brothers’ wars must now be relics of our White past, not our White future.
Secondly, the selfishness of Agamemnon – and particularly of Achilles – is a frame of mind that we Whites have to overcome, if not completely obliterate, today. For the many years that I have been involved with the National Alliance, I don’t know how many times White people of ability and promise – like Achilles – have quit the organization or simply refused to be active members for the pettiest of reasons. Maybe they’ve had a disagreement with someone else in the organization, or someone said something that offended them…but whatever it was, too often we Whites seem – like Achilles – to fold up and quit whenever our pride is wounded. To use the well-known phrase, we too easily “take our ball and go home.”
That type of behavior only works to the benefit of our enemies. What we need are White men and women who have a little bit of a thick skin; men and women who realize that sometimes feelings get hurt and that, most of the time, it isn’t personal. We need people who see the overriding concern to be the long-term welfare of our race; people who are willing to “forgive and forget,” as the saying goes; people who can “get over” any perceived offenses and move on to the business of saving the race. Smoldering on the sidelines in anger, like Achilles did, is counterproductive. And sitting on the sidelines while your kinsmen are in the death-grip of the enemy, like Achilles did, is the most dishonorable course of life that I can think of.
Finally, on the positive side, The Iliad shows the loyalty and fighting spirit that are bound up within the White race-soul, and that have been since the birth of the race. That loyalty and that fighting spirit are still with us today and, correctly channeled, they have the power to usher in a new era of Aryankind. It is that loyalty and that fighting spirit that the National Alliance is trying to awaken in our race, worldwide. I ask that you join me in that effort.
And in the meantime, I encourage you to give The Iliad a try if you never have…and to try it again if you already have some familiarity with it. The Iliad is one of the greatest White war stories of all time, and the reading isn’t nearly as abstruse as you might assume. It’s a work that is full of life and energy, and it has many lessons for White racialists today.
I’m Erich Gliebe, and thanks for being with me again today.