Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | July 28, 2017

Je Veux

Donnez-moi une suite au Ritz, je n’en veux pas!
Des bijoux de chez Chanel, je n’en veux pas!
Donnez-moi une limousine, j’en ferais quoi, papalapapapala
Offrez-moi du personnel, j’en ferais quoi?
Un manoir à Neufchatel, ce n’est pas pour moi
Offrez-moi la Tour Eiffel, j’en ferais quoi, papalapapapala

Je veux d’l’amour, d’la joie, de la bonne humeur
Ce n’est pas votre argent qui f’ra mon bonheur
Moi j’veux crever la main sur le cœur, papalapapapala
Allons ensemble, découvrir ma liberté
Oubliez donc tous vos clichés, bienvenue dans ma réalité

J’en ai marre de vos bonnes manières, c’est trop pour moi!
Moi je mange avec les mains et j’suis comme ça!
J’parle fort et je suis franche, excusez-moi!
Finie l’hypocrisie moi j’me casse de là!
J’en ai marre des langues de bois!

Regardez-moi, toute manière j’vous en veux pas
Et j’suis comme ça (j’suis comme ça) papalapapapala
Je veux d’l’amour, d’la joie, de la bonne humeur
Ce n’est pas votre argent qui f’ra mon bonheur
Moi j’veux crever la main sur le cur, papalapapapala

Allons ensemble, découvrir ma liberté
Oubliez donc tous vos clichés, bienvenue dans ma réalité
Je veux d’l’amour, d’la joie, de la bonne humeur
Ce n’est pas votre argent qui f’ra mon bonheur
Moi j’veux crever la main sur le cœur, papalapapapala

Allons ensemble, découvrir ma liberté
Oubliez donc tous vos clichés, bienvenue dans ma réalité
Je veux d’l’amour, d’la joie, de la bonne humeur
Ce n’est pas votre argent qui f’ra mon bonheur
Moi j’veux crever la main sur le cœur, papalapapapala

Allons ensemble, découvrir ma liberté
Oubliez donc tous vos clichés, bienvenue dans ma réalité

Mild mannered Mr Liu Xiaobo, saved many lives during the student uprisings of the Tiananmen Square, where he was one of the lead organizers in this singular moment of Liberty within the heart of Beijing’s oppression in 1989. Even when the death of Liberty came down hard on the evening of June 4th — Mr Liu managed to reach and negotiate for leniency towards the occupying students with the military commander of the tank battalions streaming into the Square, that were killing all the students who were resisting their advance…

We believe that he saved many lives of innocent young students during that long night’s bloody purges that were conducted in the center of Beijing by the brutal Military crackdown. Many more thousands perished and were buried in shallow graves the very same night.

Yet today nobody remembers that moment of Liberty in China, because it has been erased from all records. It has been defaced from all of the Chinese language Internet, Blogs, Newspapers, and from all official, & unofficial archives. And so now Mr Liu Xiaobo has been erased too…

In the Free World we know, that he was the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize of 2010, and that he died while in jail in China this week. Yet in China nobody knows that he lived or that he died. Nobody knows that he was incarcerated as a dissident because he was a Tiananmen square student uprising organizer, survivor, activist writer, and blog journalist…

This conclusively proves once more, that the pen is mightier than the sword, yet not for the individual personally involved, and certainly not during these times of deep state & corporate owned Mass Media, and of government controlled News, & Internet.

And although the Chinese government has censored all news about Mr Liu, about his Nobel Peace prize, and also about the grievous end of the Chinese human rights activist who died this Thursday while serving an 11-year prison sentence — his death has prompted an outpouring of grief and rage around the world, except in China, where he remains completely UNKNOWN for any practical purpose amongst the people.

That is the strength, and the extent of the “Information Embargo” that the deep state of China enforces upon the Internet, News, and Information, by controlling all access about anything “censored” and only allows government approved topics and discussions to filter through. This is similar to the Mass Media allowing only certain news to filter in America’s audience because much like in China the “deep state” and the “globalist swamp” control all the information outlets and thus present a simple version of news that fits only their agenda…

The decision to leave untreated the cancer of terminally ill Nobel Laureate Liu Xiaobo, while in jail, is a measure of the corruption of this Communist & Socialist country, where Mr Liu was a lifelong critic advocating for liberty, democracy, and freedom. Indeed Mr Liu who was jailed by the Chinese authorities consistently since he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2010, and while he was imprisoned, he was not offered medical care and thus his cancer went largely untreated, until it was far too late…

Although he was sick for a long time, only this spring he was hospitalized and diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer in jail. Liu’s wife, the poet Liu Xia, remains under house arrest, although she has not been charged with an offense.

His death has led to widespread criticism of Beijing, including outrage over Liu’s original imprisonment and allegations that the state delayed his diagnosis or denied him treatment that might have saved his life.

The Chinese Nobel Peace prize Laureate and Human Rights Advocate Liu Xiaobo died in the cell the Chinese government had anointed him with, and with no health treatment or help, until it was far too late for him or to save his life. Indeed this behavior is tantamount to an execution by neglect while the prisoner is a ward of the state…

Today the leader of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, said in a statement: “The government of China bears a heavy responsibility for Liu Xiaobo premature death. We find it deeply disturbing that he was not transferred to a facility where he could receive adequate medical treatment before he became terminally ill.”

The blogging journalists’ organization PEN-America, of which Liu was a member of the Chinese chapter, said in a statement that Liu’s death “will forever be a black mark marring China’s reputation under international law and global human rights standards. As China’s Strength Has Grown, So Has Its Unwillingness To Let Dissidents leave the country and instead prefers to make them disappear in it’s vast cells. As President of the Independent Chinese PEN Center, Liu Xiaobo was a friend and compatriot for writers all over the world, who struggle against tyranny using words as their sole weapon. Liu Xiaobo’s purported crime was no crime at all, but rather a visionary exposition on the potential future of a country he loved.”

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Many journalists denounced Xiaobo’s prison sentence, and said Beijing didn’t let him know that he had cancer and then limited his access to high-quality medical care, until it was far too late to do anything to save him. “China’s refusal to honor Liu Xiaobo’s last wish to travel overseas for treatment and its decision to hold him incommunicado during his dying days are a cruel epitaph in the tale of a powerful regime’s determination to crush a brave man.”

All of the people who knew Mr Liu Xiaobo as a simple human being, or as a Liberty & Democracy advocate, as I knew him in both capacities, are devastated. Because along with all of his international friends and fellow activists all around the World, we were all saddened, heartbroken, and rather angry about China’s involvement in causing Liu’s untimely death, and feel the need to express ourselves in writing because there are no other ways to say how we feel…

The author and activist Tienchi Martin-Liao, a longtime friend, broke down in tears as she learned of Liu’s death and wrote this: “It is so hard. I don’t know if I can say anything at all. I hate this government. I am furious and lots of people share my feeling. It is not only sadness – it is fury. How can a regime treat a person like Liu Xiaobo like this? I don’t have the words to describe it.”

Hu Ping, a friend of Xiaobo, for almost three decades, who edits a pro-democracy journal called the ‘Beijing Spring’ had this to say: “Liu Xiaobo is immortal, no matter whether he is alive or dead. Liu Xiaobo is a man of greatness, a real Saint.”

Zhao Hui, a writer and activist who goes by the ‘pen name’ Mo Zhixu, said: “I feel bitter hatred … It is so cruel and inhuman.”

Liu’s friend Jared Genser released a statement that mixed mourning with defiance stating: “Despite the tragedy; Liu’s freedom has finally come through his death. It is clear today that the Chinese government has lost. Liu’s ideas and his dreams will persist, spread, and will, one day, come to fruition. And his courage and his sacrifice for his country will inspire millions of Chinese activists and dissidents to persevere until China has become the multi-party democracy that Liu knew to his core was within its people’s grasp.”

But while Liu’s death is deeply felt within the community of activists and writers, all the people in China — where the media is fully controlled by the state, were not even aware of his illness and death, because Liu Xiaobo remains largely unknown in his own country, and his name has been erased from the country’s Chinese language media as well as from the Internet, and all references to the past, present, or future. He is gone as if he had never even existed at all.

Yet around the world — we know and remember him rather well.

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Even President Trump declared that he was “deeply saddened” at Liu’s untimely death. “A poet, scholar, and courageous advocate, Liu Xiaobo dedicated his life to the pursuit of democracy and liberty.”

Yours,

Dr Churchill

PS:

As for myself, I wept more bitter tears, when I heard of the erasure of his Life from the Chinese language, from the Chinese internet, and from his own memorial garden because of his secret burial at sea — than when I received news of his Death, which I found liberating and freeing for his Spirit that was jailed in his torn-up body…

And I decided to offer this old poem to his everlasting memory, in order to accompany his Soul, and to speed him on his journey to Heavens up above…

“What Was Said to the Rose?”

“Whatever was told to the Cypress that made it strong, upright, and straight?

What was whispered to the jasmine, so it’s aroma grows as night falls?

Whatever made sugarcane so sweet?

Whatever was done to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil that makes the men so handsome, and the women so beautiful?

Whatever makes the pomegranate flower blush like a human face — that is what is being said to me now…

And I blush.

Whatever put eloquence in language — that’s happening here too.

The great gates of Love have opened.

And I fill with gratitude, chewing a piece of sugarcane — and being in Love with the ONE to whom every one of this World belongs to.

Because whatever was said to the rose that made it open-up it’s beauty, and got it to share it’s fragrant blossom with all, was said to me here too.

It was spoken deep in my chest too.”

–Rumi

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | July 10, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 24)

Winston enjoyed his new existence in the Indian Raj to the fullest. He was a Master of his domain and lived in the most liberal city of India where everything goes…

Nevertheless he found himself beginning, to think of more serious things, and for the first time he became painfully aware of the fact that he was badly educated.

Years later he likened his education to a Swiss cheese: “Smooth on the surface
but too many holes in it.” He wrote to his mother and asked her to send him some good serious books.

Then he gradually he developed the habit of reading for three or four hours each day. He read Plato’s Republic, Aristotle on Politics, Schopenhauer on Pessimism, Malthus on Population, Darwin’s Origin of Species.

But the books that interested him most, first for their wonderful English and second for their thrilling subject matter, were Gibbon’s “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire” and Macaulay’s “History of England” and all the works of Rudyard Kipling.

He read and re-read these authors, revelling in their wonderful, rolling phrases and memorizing long passages by heart. He tried to pattern his own writing on their style and subconsciously even began to phrase his thoughts in their polished language.

Winston in Bangalore found many other things besides the India harems, and their fleshpots, along with his deep romantic love with the triple timing English filly Pamela. Happily her Love was not unrequited, but at the end always a bit traumatic for Winston’s still tender heart, because he found out that she was triple timing him with a few other Gentlemen to increase her odds of marrying a rich titled baron and above…

Here is where he came to ponder upon the human condition and he also became deeply philosophical, as he espoused the main tenets of Buddhist philosophy, and made every effort to learn the precepts of meditation, compassion, and kindness.

Bangalore is chock-a-block with temples in every corner of each and every block in the main streets and finding a buddhist sanctuary would not have been difficult, in this multiethnic and multi-religious city.

Buddhists are very much stoics and maybe Socratic adherents, and Winston felt right in. Naturally as a true Socratic adherent, he started by asking the rich and meaningful questions, challenging his own well developed sense of meaning and purpose, even while stationed in happy go lucky Bang-a-lot Bangalore…

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But some more serious thoughts must have come forth as well…

There are sacred truths to be found in questioning one’s self, because “Know Thyself” was high up on the list of Winston’s priorities since self improvement and Leadership were his metier…

So far more important questions bubbled up during the dangerous time of midnight wakefulness…

Questions like who am I?

Who is the Thinker behind the thinker?

Why do Men need Love?

What is worth living for?

What is worth dying for?

How can I find contentment?

Where is the meaning in Life?

Who Are We?

What is our purpose here on God’s good green Earth?

What is the Spirit and what is Sacred?

Are we some kind of mysterious beings of some supernatural mysterious origins?

Or are we simply created from Adam and Eve as the Church of England would have you believe at that time?

Ultimately this is what Winston Churchill’s personal philosophy came to be summed up as.

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Yet Winston was also a fast proponent of the theory of Evolution as he had personal knowledge of Charles Darwin and his writings…

He firmly believed that we appeared on Earth, looking as we do today, after an evolutionary process that took millennia and then about 200,000 years, some 30 world age cycles, and two ice ages ago, presto, here we are.

Yet although evolution was writ large — our bodies bear also the unmistakable signs of an intelligent design. We come into this world ‘speaking’ the silent language of the heart that communicates with the fields that give birth to and connect to all things, and to all others in the thing called Global Brain. Telegraph for Winston Churchill was now the big thing, much like Internet was in the more modern times, but we know that humans were the architects of advanced civilizations that date at least to the end of the last ice age, and probably before. We are peaceful beings who become violent when we fear for our lives, our families, our communities, or our way of life.

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Yet only during the last 5,125 years of the current world age have we developed the habit of large-scale war. The unsustainable conditions of our world have led us to the crisis points where we must either recognize the truth of our origins and history, and choose our highest destiny; or deny these truths and succumb to the depths of our darkest fate.

Now that we’ve answered the question of who we are, the next big question relates to our future. What is the legacy that you and I will leave to those who will call us their ancestors? Will our children’s history books look to us and say that we valued cooperation over competition, and that we learned to love instead of fear?

“Or will they look to us and say that we missed the greatest opportunity of 5,000 years of human history – the chance to replace the false beliefs of our past with the truth that empowers us to achieve our destiny?

We’ve already answered these questions with our words. Now we must live what we’ve spoken.

Will we base the emerging new world on the deep truths of our existence?

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We won’t have to wait long to find out, because in order to heal the ancient battle between darkness and light, we ought to clearly define our relationship to both, and that is how Peace can be borne anew.

Because in my mind Peace is the greatest amongst all Public Goods and Politicians must strive to attain that at all costs. Having said that, I must add a caveat, that Peace should be always our paramount aim, except when it is an ignoble peace that requires us to pursue a dishonorable course.

Because indeed peace is of the greatest importance in our world today, but it is not the only way, and whenever the inimical opponents of Peace, Safety, and Stability, know this — they will respect us — and somehow keep the Peace, because they will know that in the absence of peace, they will lose all of what they have gained.

Whereas in the presence of peace, all things are possible for them (our enemies), as indeed for all of us: Wealth, progress, popularity, full employment, poverty alleviation, middle class enlargement, near universal health, growth or well-being, good governance, democracy, liberty, freedom, love, compassion, and even plenty of forgiveness.

Peace is the source of all these things, that are all vastly curtailed when War breaks out.

Therefore, I would ask the people of the world to first and foremost find peace within themselves, so that their peace may be then exported and mirrored in the rest of the people and indeed the world.

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People do not fight because they are wicked….

People fight when the imbalances are too grave. War is waged primarily for the sake of what is central to Life. Central and important things like food and bread for the hungry masses. Help for the needy. Food for the hungry. Shoes for the children. Shelter for the homeless. Care for the needy, health for the infirm, support for the elderly, and services for all who needed them. That’s the true calling for the Politician who understands the value of Leadership and offering service to his people. Because it is the measure of how we treat our elderly, our sick, and our invalids that gives the true measure of our Society and of our Civilization.

We all know that if we assuage the pain of those who are hungry, and take care of the unemployed, and the infirm — then, this is the best means of avoiding civil conflict, and preventing war, and also securing a long lasting Peace. Yet in the end, Winston’s philosophy always came back to Love, but that was not enough to fulfill his fantasy life or his life’s purpose…

And although Winston admitted the deficiencies of his education, he was careful not to allow anyone else to draw attention to them. He was as cheeky as ever. He could not refrain from criticism and advice, and was seldom able to deliver either with tact. An old Field-Marshal, who was serving as a captain in India at the time, told me of an occasion when Winston and several of his fellow officers were invited to dinner at the Viceroy’s Palace. Pomp and ceremony blazed at such functions, and rules of procedure were observed with meticulous care. Yet these rules of social etiquette obviously couldn’t apply to Winston Churchill now. Who were these people and why they would expect him to behave himself, was beyond his comprehension…

Blast it all — he thought…

The well choreographed social maneuvers, were a real study in the Army’s operational and strictly regimented caste system, separating the young Officers seen as plebs, with the High Command Generals, seen as Masters of the Universe. On one side the young Army officers were kept at the end of the great reception hall, while the great ones of India, the governors and princes, or “Heaven Born” as they were called, talked politics at the other distant end on the far side of the reception hall — leaving a great swath of empty space in between. This vast emptiness was only traversed by the liveried servants, the waiters, and the ‘authorized’ ADCs of the Generals, and the attendants of the Princes. For a while, Winston Churchill the young lieutenant subaltern, hang out and listened impatiently to the banal conversations of his contemporaries, and when thoroughly bored — he strode down the length of the room, pushed his way into the celebrated circle of “Heaven Born” and began to give them advice on how to run the country…

Much later the Field Marshal said: “This clearly, did not contribute to his popularity.”

And yet if Winston could be rather bumptious & annoying, he could also be rather charming & disarming, because although he was aware of the unfavourable impression he created, and was usually indifferent to it — his indifference was never cold, for he was incapable of holding any malice. He had the rare quality of never resenting the resentment of those to whom he had been rude, and often took his enemies unawares by offering a sudden warm apology. Once sufficient time had elapsed to give him perspective, he had the gift of surveying himself with humour and detachment.

In his book “My Early Life” he produces a literary cat’s paw, when describing another occasion, shortly after his arrival in India, where he was in one of his most aggressive moods. The Governor of Bombay, Lord Sandhurst, entertained Winston and a brother officer at dinner and Winston wrote that: “We truly enjoyed a banquet of glitter, pomp, and iced champagne.” That’s not all of what he wrote. “His Excellency, after the toast to the health of the Queen Empress had been drunk, and dinner was over, was good enough to ask my opinion on several matters, and considering the magnificent character of his hospitality, I thought it would be unbecoming in me not to reply fully. I have forgotten the particular points of British and Indian affairs upon which he sought my counsel; all I can remember is that I responded generously. There were indeed moments when he seemed willing to impart his own views; but I thought it would be ungracious to put him to so much trouble, and he very readily subsided.”

Although Winston enjoyed the Officer’s charming life in Bangalore, and particularly the thrilling polo matches, and his romantic interludes — he began to grow restless. The more he read and the more he talked, the more certain he became that he was intended for great things. A sharp driving ambition was growing within him that seemed to be increasing each day; and at the age of twenty-two he felt there was no time to lose. He must establish a name for himself as quickly as possible. But how could he show the world the stuff he was made of if his regiment remained in idleness?

What chance was there for him to win his spurs in peaceful Bangalore?

 

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Lucky for him — the Great Game was in full swing. Those days Russia was bribing the Pathans and the other tribesmen of the Northwest frontier in today’s Afghanistan and Pakistan, to revolt and cause a handicap to the British Raj and to the Empire by occupying vast numbers of troops there. Troops that could not be used elsewhere…

Winston mindful of that fact — was in an impatient mood in the summer of 1897 when he had travelled back to England, on military “leave” and had found out about the insurrection on the frontier, because while in London, one morning, he picked up a newspaper and read that fighting had broken out on the Northwest Frontier and General Sir Bindon Blood was in charge. Immediately he connected the dots, because Sir Bindon was a descendant of a notorious character named Colonel Blood who had tried to steal the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London in the reign of Charles II, and Winston remembered that he had made friends with the General, at a social function in England the year before, and also that the latter had agreed, that if any trouble broke out on the frontier he would let the young subaltern join him. Churchill promptly sent him a telegram reminding him of his promise, and the reply came back that although there were no vacancies on his staff, if Winston could get a job as a war correspondent — he would be pleased to have him with him.

Winston left for India in a high state of excitement He persuaded the editor of an Indian paper, the Allahabad Pioneer, to employ him, and even more important, persuaded the Colonel of the Queen’s Own Hussars to grant him leave from his regiment. He then rushed to travel more than two thousand miles from South to the North of India in order to go fight in that frontier. That is the Northwest frontier that has been called the graveyard of Civilization, or otherwise known as the graveyard of the Empires. And indeed this is today’s Afghanistan and the birthplace of that indomitable warrior race of the Pashtun people…

Upon arrival in the Northwest frontier —  joined the command body that was known as the Malakand Field Force, whose task was to suppress an uprising among the fierce Pathan tribesmen on the frontier. They had to fight their way in gorge type valleys, amidst high rock faces and stone walled passages, and narrow pathways, leading to high peaked rugged mountains. They moved serendipitously amidst small villages made up of clusters of mud bricked houses, overlooking the broad arid mountain plateaus, and upland plains. Here Winston Churchill was allowed to attach himself to a mixed brigade of cavalry and infantry which had been given orders to march through the Mamund Valley and clear the field from insurgents. Naturally the snaking column of soldiers started forth in warlike formation preceded by a squadron of Bengal Lancers, and was then broken up into smaller and more agile field force sections.

 

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On the very first day of their march through the valley before the day was out, and just before dusk settled — Winston’s split group of cavalry and foot soldiers — came into contact with a band of fierce Pathan savages. Hostilities commenced immediately upon contact, and the Adjutant field officer of his regiment was wounded, a few yards from Winston, who saw up-close, the fierce Pathan tribesman who rushed the stricken officer laying prostate on the ground, and decapitated him with a slash of his sword. Then the savage Pathan, picked up a stone and hurled it full force at Winston while waited for his reaction, brandishing his sword. Churchill pulled out his trusted sidearm, a heavy duty Colt revolver, and fired several shots at him. As the Pathan fell, it was then that Winston realized that he was all alone and fully surrounded by the enemy… He immediately ran as fast as he could, and took cover behind a knoll where he found a handful of his own
soldiers taking cover laying in waiting for the enemy to rush them. From then on, the fighting continued and lasted several more hours. In the midst of the heat of the battle — Winston with the assistance of his men, bravely risked the field, and salvaged the wounded, by carrying two wounded officers, and six wounded Sikh warriors back to safety behind the knoll, where his small band had barricaded themselves.

For the next fortnight, this part of the Malakand Field Force carried out a punitive expedition through the valley which provided Winston with more face to face fighting and more stories for his writing of the newsprint articles. When the operation finally came to an end Sir Bindon Blood stated in dispatches that the officer commanding the forces had “praised the courage and resolution of Lieutenant W. L S. Churchill, 4th
Hussars, the correspondent of the Pioneer newspaper, who had made himself useful at a critical moment.”

After this thrilling adventure Winston had no wish to return to the routine life of sedate South India in Bangalore. Meanwhile, his mother had been busy on his behalf in London and had landed him a job as correspondent to the Daily Telegraph.

He tried energetically to secure a permanent appointment to the Malakand Field Force, but suddenly operations came to an end and the command was disbanded. This was disappointing but at the same time news came that another force was being organized to carry out a punitive expedition in Tirah, another trouble spot on the Northwest Frontier. Winston began to pull strings, but by this time influential generals and colonels had
formed a strong prejudice against the bumptious young officer. He could not resist offering them advice and lecturing them on strategy and he even had the effrontery to criticize them in his articles. Who did the young whippersnapper think he was, anyway? They would show him, and as a result Winston found his path firmly blocked. Sorrowfully he was forced to return to the uneventful life of Bangalore where his brother officers made it plain that they thought it high time he attended to his primary regimental duties, to his polo ponies, and to his “Sloane pony” the pretty Pamela Plowden, who was certainly not waiting for him… yet for the right amount of effort — she would be happy to place him in rotation amongst her other regular lovers and aspiring gentlemen slaying themselves at the feet…

 

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If this sounds too much like his Mother Jennie, it truly is, and the old saw that says that boys seek to marry someone like their Mother — truly holds fast & true here. So Winston tried to marry this filly, only to earn a well deserved heartbreak, and to learn the lesson that he should stay as far away from women like his Mother, as humanly possible. He certainly should not attempt to marry them, but perhaps focus on having his dose of romantic fun, but no other entanglements. Sadly this lesson did not arrive for Winston in time, and perhaps he missed the Memorandum that must have gone out about it, but at any rate, he fell for Pamela, and he fell hard, because he had fallen in love at first sight with her when he was visiting the “British Resident” in Hyderabad in November of 1896. He wrote to his mother: “She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.” Pamela, a few months his senior, was the daughter of Sir Trevor Chichele-Plowden, at that time the Resident in Hyderabad. She was the first significant love of Churchill’s life, and his mother, Lady Randolph Churchill, wrote to him before his return from South Africa: “Pamela is devoted to you and if yr love has grown as hers – I have no doubt it is only a question of time for you 2 marry.”

Story goes, that after Winston Churchill had proposed to Pamela Plowden, who was already recognized as a society beauty, when he was in an interlude between his early battles in the Northwest frontier, and had returned to Bangalore, she accepted. And the two were secretly and informally engaged. from then on, they wallowed in romantic bliss, and plenty of steamy erotic sex, in the hours of sweet love for Bangalore, those cool evenings after 11pm, or early in the morning, before sun rise. Yet he was sold down the river, for just two years later she married Victor, Earl of Lytton, the son of the Viceroy of India. … Poor Winston was uncontrollably sad and the “black dog” of depression started circling him. He had been able to remember that he said to Pamela: “Marry me – and I will conquer the world and lay it at your feet” but didn’t remember her saying that she will stay honest to him…

And indeed as History provides, he was once again betrayed by the Woman he loved most in this World. He said that he loved Pamela, even more than he loved sweet sugar plums, whatever that means… Indeed, Winston Churchill suffered serious heartbreak when his hopes of marrying the first great love of his life were dashed by her lack of fidelity, and his lack of money and fame, because Churchill was smitten by the GD Pamela, and he would always hold her blameless. Yet his story is not unique because Gold-diggers abound, and tend to be some of the most beautiful wretches.

 

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But he would never blame her for anything, and that shows how free of malice Winston Churchill was, because as a letter he wrote in 1899 proves, he was acutely aware that his own financial situation was an unsurmountable obstacle to marriage, and nothing that Pamela said or did could be considered her fault.

The fault must have surely been with his star, and the fact that he was a poor relation to the other wealthy members of the ducal Marlborough clan…

Writing from Calcutta in March of that year, he began thus: “My dear Pamela, I have lived all my life seeing the most beautiful women London produces … Never have I seen one for whom I would forgo the business of life.”

 

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Indeed this time around Winston was so much head over heels in Love that he thought he found an Angel in human form, who could really take care of him.

So he continued his letter saying: “Then I met you” … “Were I, a dreamer of dreams, I would say: ‘Marry me – and I will conquer the world and lay it at your feet.’ Yet for marriage two conditions are necessary – money and the consent of both parties. One certainly, both probably, are absent. And this is all, such an old story.”

In the March 1899 letter, Churchill contemplates a future without Pamela: “I look to the consolations of life. I enjoy health, brains, youth and the future … God has taken pleasure in inventing an imperfect world. What a God…”

 

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It is remarkable how easily he forgave and perhaps forgot, but surely he was free of any lingering malice and resentment, because in 1902 Churchill was graciously & honestly congratulating Victor Earl of Lytton, on his engagement to Pamela Plowden, in another letter, writing: “I am wishing You, all the happiness & good fortune which wit & beauty deserve, when they combine to share the inheritance of the future, and trusting I would always be counted among your most devoted friends.”

Six years later, Churchill sends another letter marked ‘Secret till Saturday’ where he announced: “I am going to marry Clementine… you must always be our best friend.”

Now he had learned the lesson and found a woman that was the exact opposite of his mother Jennie, who was always the prettiest and well decorated filly in the stables, but with the mores of a gnat, and the distinction of being a great Spirit, and the Best of Courtesans, and Socialites, in this amazingly stratified society… as seen with her son Winston in this staged photo bellow.

 

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But back in his suddenly darkened Bangalore days, in the midst of depression and romantic rejection of his requited, unrequited, and yet again requited, Love — Winston did not abandon his efforts to fight more battles, and thus earn the important distinction that ever elusive decoration of a Victoria Cross, given out only for bravery in battle. So he still cast wistful eyes towards Tirah, and with his mother’s help in London he exerted all the pressure he could to advance his aims.

He wrote letters, sent telegrams, inveigled, and implored. Finally a letter arrived from an old friend, Colonel Ian Hamilton, informing him that a certain Captain Haldane was A.D.C. to Sir William Lockhart, the Commander-in-Chief of the expedition, and advising him that if he could impress himself sufficiently on Haldane, the latter had sufficient influence to get him an appointment on the General’s staff. Once again Winston obtained leave from his Colonel and once again he travelled across India. He was received by Captain Haldane who listened to his story and said he would have to discuss the matter with his chief. Ten minutes later he reappeared and to Winston’s great joy, announced that he could give him an appointment as an extra orderly officer on the Commander’s staff.

This was such a stroke of good fortune that Winston strained every nerve to continue his good behaviour. For once he was neither bumptious nor cheeky. “I behaved and was treated,’ he wrote, ‘as befitted my youthful station. I sat silent at meals or only rarely asked a tactful question.”

Captain Haldane obviously had no idea, what an effort this was for Lieutenant Churchill, because many years later, when he was an old, distinguished, and retired as a general — he wrote in his memoirs that: “Although Churchill was widely regarded in the Army as super-precocious, indeed by some as insufferably bumptious, neither of these epithets was applicable. On the contrary, my distinct recollection of him at this time was that he was modest and paid attention to what was said, not attempting to monopolize the conversation or thrust his opinions and clear cut opinions they were on many subjects on his listeners. He enjoyed giving vent to his views on matters military and otherwise, but there was nothing that could be called aggressive or self assertive which could have aroused antagonism among the most sensitive of those with whom he was talking.”

Either the general remembered a different Churchill, or it was all a giant character edifice, carefully constructed by Winston Churchill, that proved that the young Lieutenant Churchill fully knew how to conduct himself, and was able to harness his nature rather well — that is, if he were to put his mind to it, or when his personal interests were at stake. However, his well-laid plans, his blameless behavior, and his justifiable hopes for a VC, were to come to nothing. Because quite suddenly, Peace broke out, and the expedition was abandoned. Once more Churchill had to return forlorn back home to Bangalore, in the tropical Indian South…

While Winston was in Bangalore trying to attach himself to the Tirah expedition, he was not idle. His dispatches on the fighting at the frontier had been colourful and amusing and he suddenly decided to write a book entitled “The Malakand Field Force.” He worked furiously and at the end of two months had produced a lively and detailed account of the campaign.

The book soon found a publisher and when it came out a few months later the critics were friendly and the public enthusiastic. The Prime Minister, Lord Salisbury, read it, and the Prince of Wales (Winston’s earthly father) did too, and then he also wrote to the young author a heartfelt letter of congratulation. Everyone was delighted except the Army. The generals noticed with annoyance and anger that 2nd Lieutenant Winston Churchill had been very free with his authorial expression, with his pen, and with his censure of military matters best left to the Generals — or so they seem to think…

 

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And their anger was of course misplaced because Winston’s criticism was valid, since he criticized the “short service” system of recruitment; the fact that soldiers were not equipped with enough food, sausages, and/or chocolate, on their marches; the fact that retreating and retiring companies were not covered by continuous fire; the fact that civil officers were encouraged to collect military information from the enemy, and so much more that was rightfully to be blamed for many deaths and injuries amongst the regular soldiers and their commanders. And then Winston ended undaunted: “There will not be wanting those who will remind me that in this matter my opinion finds no support in age or experience. To such I shall reply that if what is written is false or foolish, neither age nor experience should fortify it; and if it is true, it needs no such support.” [A Soldier’s Saga: General Sir Aylmer Haldane]

Winston was so encouraged by the success of his book, that he promptly sat down to write another. This time he decided to try his hand at a novel. While his brother officers were taking siestas on the hot Indian afternoons, he worked. His theme was a revolt in Ruritania with a hero who overthrew the Government and was then threatened with a socialist revolution. The climax centred in an iron-clad fleet firing on the capital to quell
the murderous radicals. The story was called Savrola aud although it was not hailed as a masterpiece it was serialized in Macmillan’s Magazine and earned the author 700 quid. Winston was quick to see its literary defects and decided never again to attempt fiction. “I have consistently urged my friends to abstain from reading it” he wrote in later years.

Winston felt in his bones that he was meant for the battlefield. But he was not content to lead a minor campaign. He wanted a career along the lines of the Duke of Marlborough, John Churchill, or Napoleon Bonaparte, the Corsican corporal that upended Europe and became the best Emperor of France, but in 1898 people were saying emphatically that the major wars, with their vast army movements, and the heroic battles, were truly and certainly a thing of the past.

Thus reluctantly Winston came to the conclusion, that if Fame was to be his Quarry, he must change his course. The more he studied his family father’s life Randolph Churchill’s fast and furious exploits — the more it stirred him. The House of Commons offered excitement, and the prizes were great. Besides, there was no bar to youth and he was in a hurry, since Lord Randolph had reached the Cabinet at the age of thirty-six, and perhaps he hoped that he could do the same.

Therefore, Winston made up his mind to enter Parliament as soon as possible, and to leave all other less important things for a time when the Blue Moon would shine upon him, because for now he had to trust his Star holding up firmly and shinning down on him, in order to mark his path, towards a useful, and perhaps a great, and famous Life.

 

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He exerted a huge and focused effort, because at this time, he knew that he would be unable to return home and win an election in order to secure even a minor and marginal parliamentary seat amongst the conservatives, without sufficient amounts of money and a great reputation — of which he had neither — and he wasn’t going to get easily unless there was a blue moon…

Yet he was confident that he could maybe win both, by the masterful use of his pen, and his sturdy silver inkwell, that travelled everywhere with him.

As for the “Art of Battle” and his first love, “Soldiering,” Winston felt that it hadn’t served him well.

Indeed he was now thinking about being a professional Author, because belatedly it had dawned on him, that if Britain’s distant battles, and small regional wars, would provide him with the field to exhibit bravery and therefore earn distinction — and would in turn give him exciting material to write about, and thus catch the public eye, he could win it all.

Because only then, the road that his Star promised, would be fully revealed and opened to him, so that he would be able to gallop along at full speed… to meet his Destiny.

 

 

To be continued:

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | July 2, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 23)

TROPIC OF MYSORE

Six months after his father’s death Winston received another mortal blow, which represented a far greater emotional loss for him.

And this particular loss hit much closer to his heart, and affected him deeply, because it untethered him from all that he considered his own. It caused him to redefine who he was. And it severed his ties, upended his moorings, and fouled his compass showing what true North is. It was a deathly blow to all that he held dear, including his attachment to his family, to his father, to his birthplace in Blenheim, to his “home house” and to his errant mother as well. All these things started falling away like stardust falls off when a child wakes up form a full dreamy sleep. And so Winston’s old dreams fell off in one clean fell swoop, the moment his nanny told him the truth of who he really was.

It was a swift moment of truth, and maturity, that opened his eyes, and let him grow suddenly to become a real man, by cutting down all his ties, and burning down his bridges.

Mrs Everest, his childhood nanny had fallen seriously ill. His surrogate Mother, the person that brought him up and believed in him, the true love of his life, his “Wooman” was deathly ill, and not long of the world. He summoned the family Doctor who had long tended to his own and his father’s health, and took him to Mrs Everest’s humble abode in London’s Highgate, where Winston spend the two final days and nights at her bedside, fully knowing that she was soon to be no more of this world.

He was devastated.

He was heart broken and he became physically sick himself at the news of her grave illness. He rushed to her bedside immediately upon hearing the news, because through thick and thin — these two had gotten along masterfully. And throughout the years the deep bond between Winston and his nurse, his governess, his confidante — had not only grown in understanding, but it had also strengthened and matured. He and She, had become an item in the most sincere way a young man can confide to his other Mother figure, when he feels particularly loveless. And here is where he found love in the extra large buxom blossom of his ‘Woom” who gave him all the Love he craved. But she also gave him Truth and Beauty, because living amongst the intricate and intriguing Churchill family he had never learned the basic truths about his parentage since that subject was taboo. And so it was at this late moment, before she faced her maker, that Mrs Everest told young Winston the whole truth about who his real father was — not wanting to take such horrible secret to her grave. Mrs Everest wanted to unload the burden that she was carrying as it was placed upon her so many years earlier, of the secret she had been terribly pained to hold, against her dearest child, Winston.

We know that before she died, Mrs Everest wanted to unburden herself as it often happens to people facing the doors of perception… Elizabeth Anne Everest could no longer hold the deep seated secret from her wonderful boy, little Winnie, her faithful companion, and finally confided to Winston Churchill, that his real father was not the man he worshipped, despite all his many faults. Lord Randolph Churchill, was not the biological father of Winston Churchill, but someone entirely different. So she told him. We must of course assume that this perceptive young lad had long suspected the truth, that Lord Randy, was not his biological father, but he did not know definitively till that moment of truthful revelation. Because Elizabeth Anne Everest, who was his best and dearest friend ever, would not have told him lies. Yet now it appears that this useful lie, was not just a betrayal that his blood father, was not the one he knew, but was instead Edward, the Prince of Wales, who at present, was still a few years shy of becoming the King, following the long reign of his Mother Queen Victoria — but it was a further blow because Mrs Everest had for so long held this “secret” against him.

He thought they shared everything, but apparently not. Yet he clearly understood her position and instantly forgave her and kept tending at her side. Now this was a liberating feeling. For Winston to instantly learn the news and adjust to the new reality flexibly and surely as he had felt the obligation to care for the deathly sick elder lady who had been his best of companions for the first two decades of his Life. Because for Winston to have this trusted “Wooman” confirm the murmurs, the hushed rumors, and even his own suspicions, about who was his true blood father — was not just a shock, but rather a confirmation. And to have finally confirmed that Lord Randolph was not the true father of Winston Churchill — was a deep relief, because besides all other things, he was also afraid of the hereditary nature of syphilis, that killed his erstwhile father Randolph.

And these conflicting emotions arising form Mrs Everest’s news was hard to reconcile, but he looked for the silver lining, as he always was able to do. And this cloud indeed had a bright side, because although it is not easy to hear that you are a bastard, no matter who the ‘cad’ that fathered you might have been — it is infinitely worse to be losing your social standing in the super stratified caste system of Victorian England — even if your father is the future King of the Realm.

So naturally this new revelation surely stiffened Winston’s stance against the World, but it also gave him a stronger backbone, and somehow acted as his wishbone, because it made him resolute in his belief that his Stars held well for him, and favored him to do great things. After all, he is now firmly in the bloodline of Kingship and a great regal lineage, even as a bastard.

This bit of awful “news” of course also sealed the deal for the eternal appreciation of Winston towards his nanny, Mrs Elizabeth Anne Everest, who sadly expired in his hands, later that same day. This bit of “news” was her parting gift to her dearest boy Winston whom she always propped up, each and every time his family father Randolph, broke him down, and dismissed him as a young imbecile. It was Mrs Everest who had always believed that Winston was brilliant in his own special way, and that he had a great future ahead of him, despite all his difficulties. She firmly believed that, because she had seen his native intelligence and his extraordinary powers of will and determination, his obstinacy against all odds, and his amazing resilience. And since she knew that her young charge was the scion of the Sovereign, she not only propped him up every time he fell sick, but she took extra care of Winston during his many illnesses, during his life challenging pneumonia, during his frequent bouts with bronchitis, asthmatic incidents, accidents, during his coma and convalescence, and even after all his early school life swishings, and after his schoolboy elaborate ‘defeats’ in the hands of older bullies and bastards as he called them. The terrible B&Bs, meant an entirely different thing for Winston that the Bed and Breakfast Inns of today…

Winston now reminiscing and fully aware of the sacrifices his loving nanny had made for him, during all of his life — he was fully engaged in his efforts to save her life, but to no avail. The grim reaper inexorably approached, and as Winston spent the last couple of days and nights by her bedside, holding her hand — this came as another kind of liberation too. He duly eulogized her, and he remarked that she was going straight up to Heavens Above with the Express train. Gallows Humor but that’s all Winston had to carry him and propel him through the dark long night of his nanny’s death rattle. She was surely going to meet her Heavenly Father, rising up much lighter now after having unloaded her share of that terrible burden that was foisted upon her by Winston’s Mother, such a long time ago. And the fact that Mrs Everest, his “Woom” held this secret for two decades, filled him with admiration, and a further understanding of the resilience of human spirit in the nature of this lovely woman that held this burden of a tearful secret, from her young charge, in order to protect him,  and she only shared this secret with her last breath, when her very life was about to be forfeit.

Later, Winston wrote this about Mrs Elizabeth Everest: “She was my dearest and most intimate friend, during the whole twenty years that I had lived.”

As a matter of fact, when Mrs Everest had retired from “Active Duty” at the Churchill household, and had stopped taking care of young Winston — some years earlier — Lord Randolph Churchill, had paid tribute to her devoted care, by offering her a severance pay, and taking her in a special horse drawn ‘hansom-cab’ to lunch with Lord Rothschild, in order to have him invest her Life Savings wisely, for good returns for the long haul…

Allas, at this time she wasn’t long of this world, and as at this time, Mrs Everest lived in North London — this is when Winston Churchill first heard that she was seriously ill. Immediately he got hold of Dr Keith and together hastened to her bedside to medicate her, to hold her hand, lay compresses, and pray with her, as she was always known to do with her young charge Winston when he was sick. Here and now, Winston was hoping for a miracle in Mrs Everest’s recovery, but this was not to be… as Dr Keith explained to him at length after trying all of his ministrations. She was 62 years old, when she died at 2:15 am on July 3rd of 1895 with Winston Churchill always devoted to her crying by her bedside. He later wrote to his Mother Jennie: “I shall never know such a friend again. … I feel very low — and find that I never realized how much poor old Whom was to me”

As a sign of deep devotion Winston after sitting the whole day and night by her bedside, and spoon feeding her soup and orange juice, in her little North London cottage, Winston had to return to the Aldershot military barracks for an early morning parade, but he then hurried back to be by her side again. He sat with her for many hours, and indeed he stayed until the bitter end. Winston Churchill was holding hands with Mrs Everest, when she died, and he cried to high heavens and feverishly prayed for the safe ascent of her eternal soul…

After all that death toll, the unconsolable young cavalry officer Winston Churchill organized her funeral from his small meagre pay, and when she was lowered into her grave he wept, as he had never done for anyone else. Never before, nor since, he had wept so much, for the loss of a human being. Hell — Winston hadn’t even wept for his own father Randolph’s death, on January 24th of this year 1895, or of the death of his maternal grandmother Clara Jerome on April 2nd of the same year 1895 — but he wept plenty for Mrs Everest, because his “Wooman” was a different matter altogether. She was his best friend. And he duly made arrangements for her headstone at the London cemetery at Manor Park and also paid the florist to maintain her gravesite with good blooming flowers. The headstone, with his dedication, and the grave still exist today to remind us of his devotion and eternal Love, that guided him to the end of his Life.

Several years later, in India, he came across the passage that the historian Edward Gibbon had written about his own Governess: “If there be any, as I trust there are some, who rejoice that I live, to that dear and excellent woman, gratitude is due.”
This, he declared, would be Mrs Everest’s epitaph: and to the end of his life, and even today, on this very day, her picture still hangs in Winston Churchill’s study at his own home called ‘Chartwell’ in the lovely Kentish countryside, with Mrs Everest gazing out to the green and verdant valley.

You ought to go and see for yourself sometime… even if it so that you can understand, what unrequited love looks like in the long haul.

Because back then, the young officer Winston Churchill was utterly devastated by the loss of Mrs Everest and also by all of what he considered dear and holly. The family name, the brilliant ancestry, the familiarity with the Marlborough clan, and his ancestor the First Duke of Marlborough John Churchill, the relations with the Spencers, and all of that he cherished in Society. Yet he also understood that if he were to attribute his seed to the Sovereign — he was clearly a bastard without the chance of being recognized so late in Life… especially now that he was an adult, and officer, and a subaltern in the Cavalry.

So as the story of his birthright and the carefully orchestrated secret patronage started unraveling, it seems that it was time for Winston to leave everything behind and go out in the World, to earn his own measure of distinction and honor, and to carve a path for himself.

He was indeed terribly lonely now.

All that he loved had been wrested away from him, and with his beloved nanny gone — he was again all alone in the world. Except now he knew that he was a bastard.

So he chose to make his way forward and to leave all little boys’ things, all familiar things, and all English things, behind.

He chose to leave the country to go away, in the bitter sweet sentiment of shame and pride all meshed into one force, of wanting to make something of himself. He decided that he will go out in the world and make his own way, unassisted by family and friends, and fully reliant in his own two hands, two feet, and his own fecund brain.

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He looked for a way out, and indeed two months after Mrs Everest’s death, Winston agitated and strove to leave England until he succeeded to be included in the “4th Queen’s Own Hussars” who were known to be an Expeditionary Force for the Empire for 300 years, since their inception in 1685, and were experts at fighting mounted on good sturdy stallions, anywhere, and everywhere, across the Globe. They had a reputation for bravery and honor, that they had to uphold and therefore trained daily with their horses.

Their favorite game was polo, a game that further kept them trained in the arts of mounted warfare and manly competition, and had plenty of battle readiness exercises. Their uniforms were blue, brilliant, and dazzling, and their swords, were the sharpest and strongest than any other service brand. Even their scabbards were highly decorated and gilted.

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And Winston amongst them all, was the handsomest boy, and his appearance was striking. He was tall, strong, and wiry, with a head that seemed too large for his body, but his perfectly expressive eyes conveyed intelligence and resourcefulness. He had a pug nose, large protruding blue eyes, a pink and white skin, that even a girl might have envied, and a shock of red-gold hair that matched the braids on his uniform. An impediment in his speech prevented him from pronouncing the letter V clearly, and gave him a slight lisp, that made him if nothing else, at least memorable…

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People called him baby face, and indeed his face was cherubic, ruddy, with white skin, and all in all his features were beautiful — but he was anything but effeminate. His blue eyes were impudent and challenging, and his round face could turn ominous and dark at will, and his ruddy complexion had the pugnacious look of a street urchin — if he willed it. And his ready made sarcasm, fighting spirit, and cynical humor, had him always at the edge of either a fight, fisticuffs, or guffaws, always spread amongst his mates and colleagues, amongst whom he was the unsung hero, and the Leader of the pack.

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Winston led other men always onwards. He was leading his people from the front, because he was always and forever fighting for his dreams, and for what is True & Beautiful unafraid of any consequences. He was a firm believer on his stars holding the sky for him and charting out a great path, and his self assured manner was always showing. This is what led many other people to follow him into battle unquestioningly, and for grown men to engage onto his many flights of fancy, and into his far too many fights all around the world, leading to an awesome number of defeats, interspersed with the occasional victory…

He didn’t mind the odds of defeat, as he was assured that we always die once — so no need to fear death and destruction.

And that’s how he opened the gates to the best possible future he could visualize for himself, and for the rest of us, and for Western Civilization. Of course, his birth, his breeding and his regal bearing, automatically opened the doors to the powerful oligarchical society which ruled Britain at the time. But even so, his bearing and natural authority helped along with the fact that at this time all the members of the High Society knew, who his real father was. Indeed this was so, because this society consisted of a few hundred great families who throughout the years of intertwined history, had also become interrelated by marriage, and they all intuitively understood superior bearing and natural leadership as coming from Royal DNA and royal breeding.

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This is what Winston said about this time in History: “Everywhere one met friends and kinfolk. The leading figures of Society were in many cases the leading statesmen in Parliament, and also the leading sportsmen on the Turf. Lord Salisbury was accustomed scrupulously to avoid calling a Cabinet when there was racing at Newmarket, and the House of Commons made a practice of adjourning for the Derby at Ascot. In those days the glittering parties at Lansdowne House, Devonshire House, and Stafford House, comprised all the elements which made a gay and splendid social circle in close relation to the business of Parliament, the hierarchies of the Army and Navy, and the policy of the State.”

Winston Churchill continued writing in his book “My Early Life,” that he found this “London social world” greatly to his liking. Not only because he was free from the constraining atmosphere of the classroom, but also because he was delighted to find himself moving on terms of social equality with the most distinguished men of the day. Furthermore, he had discovered in his Mother a new and kindred spirit, that was behaving as if she were of the same age as Winston. Because although up until then, Lady Randolph Churchill, had paid little attention to her son — now that Winston had reached an age where he could fit into her life, she began to take a genuine interest in him. She introduced him to whoever he wished to meet and made every effort to smooth his path. She did not attempt to exert a maternal influence, and with Jennie always behaving far younger than her age — they gradually developed a deep and affectionate respect, and almost a brother-sister relationship, which lasted them happilly until Jennie’s death.

Winston, however, was far from being a universal favorite, or even the flavor of the month, the day, or the minute. He was actually quite disliked by most of his class of subalterns, because of his innate competitive nature, and his assertive need to lead.

He moved bombastically and assertively through the sedate circles of Victorian society burning bridges, and sinking ships, all throughout those feint of heart, and the dainty souls. He was blunt and opinionated as he was totally indifferent to the social graces. His prolonged failures at school, had – increased – not diminished his aggressiveness, for he was now so eager to impress people through his as yet unrecognized abilities, that he seized every opportunity to force his ideas upon all others. Small talk bored him and he made no attempt to conceal his impatience with stupidity. He did not hesitate to engulf his elders in a tide of rhetoric, against which they often struggled helplessly; and as a result he soon won the reputation of being egotistical, rude and bumptious.

The young men of the 4th Hussars regarded him with good-natured amusement. The majority were rich, charming and intellectually lazy. Most of them had chosen a military career because it interfered less than anything else with hunting and shooting and the pleasures of the London season. In those days cavalry officers were paid only fourteen shillings a day, and were obliged to dig into their own pockets to support themselves and a string of horses as well. But their meagre salaries were balanced by certain advantages. They had five months’ leave a year, and even when they were on duty their hours were neither arduous nor long. Although Winston’s mother made him an allowance of 500 a year which in those days had considerable purchasing power, his brother officers lived at such a high standard, that Winston regarded himself as ‘a poor man’.

However, Lieutenant Winston Churchill had not joined the army in order to be a rich scion. Nor did he embark on a military career as if he were on the social career ladder. He joined the Army to earn his distinction of Courage and Bravery, because it was not for nothing that the Duke of Marlborough was his hero, or that he had arrayed his lead armies, made up of tin soldiers in lines of battle formations, while he dreamt of heroic deeds suitably rewarded by Fame that will soon be following. He was determined to make a name for himself, but at this time, he had to face the depressing truth, that there could be no sensational military exploits, if there were no wars to be had. He looked around him at the world of 1895 with dismay. If only he had been born at the end of the last century with twenty years of Napoleonic battles stretching out before him — things would have been different.

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Indeed at that time, the last war Britain had fought was in the Crimea in 1854, and still there was scarcely a cloud on the horizon of Peace today.

The only place where any fighting was going on in 1895, was in Cuba, and one could scarcely call this minor rebellion against the Spanish Empire, a war. However, he was soon to have a few months’ leave and a rebellion was better than nothing. He persuaded Reginald Barnes, a fellow subaltern, to undertake the journey with him and secured a few letters of introduction to the Spanish authorities in Havana by writing to his father’s old friend, Sir Henry Drummond-Wolff who was at that time British Ambassador in Madrid, Then he remembered that his father had once written several articles for the Daily Graphic. In those days there were no regulations which forbade Army officers from writing for the press, and many newspapers commissioned serving officers to act as correspondents. Winston saw the editor of the Graphic and succeeded in securing a commission for a series of dispatches at 15 apiece.

The two young Hussars set out for Cuba early in November. Their adventures proved to be more comical than dangerous and more jovial than instructive; nevertheless the trip was an important turning point in Winston’s life for it launched him on the career of a war correspondent which was to make him a national figure before five years had passed. He supplemented his tiny income with a small stipend he received as a junior Spy for the Foreign Service and for the Intelligence Committee, to whom  he also gave his reports…

The cover held, and the Spanish authorities in Cuba, welcomed the two subalterns with surprising cordiality. The Spanish, were attempting to suppress a Cuban thrust for full independence, and they insisted on interpreting the visit of the Englishmen as an official gesture of friendship from a great and interested power. In Havana, every courtesy was shown to them and every facility was placed at their disposal. Arrangements were soon made to send them to join a Spanish column of four thousand men that was marching through a jungle in which many enemy patrols were operating.

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It took the two young spies, dressed as Queen’s Own Hussars, in tropical uniforms, several days to reach General Valdez’s column.
They first travelled by train, then by boat and finally caught up with him in the town of Sancti Spiritus. The General greeted them warmly, provided them with horses and explained to them that he was making a fortnight’s march through the insurgent districts. The long column set off in the morning first moving through tangled jungles, then open spaces, then more jungles. The enemy was well hidden, but on the morning of 30 November, Winston’s twenty-first birthday, a few bullets whistled over his head while he was camped near the roadside eating a chicken for his breakfast. This was his baptism of fire. The next evening another volley rang out while he and a group of officers were dressing after a swim, causing them a certain amount of inconvenience and a good many jokes.
And later that night several more bullets lodged themselves in the thatch of the hut in which he was sleeping.

On the third day the Spanish column attacked. Churchill and Barnes were mounted and advanced with the General and his staff about fifty yards behind the Spanish infantry. They watched the puffs of enemy smoke in the distance and sat with dignity while bullets whistled around them. Soon the rebel fire died away and the Spanish soldiers occupied the insurgent positions. It was impossible to pursue the enemy because of the density of the jungle, and the battle was over. The next day the Englishmen left for England.

Winston sent several dispatches home. One opened with the jovial declaration that first sentences, whether of a proposal of marriage or a newspaper article, were always difficult. The other explained the handicaps under which journalists operated. ‘While the Spanish authorities are masters of the art of suppressing the truth,’ he wrote, ‘the Cubans are adepts at inventing falsehoods.

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Churchill and Barnes felt that they had gotten their money’s worth in this tropical Caribbean adventure and they duly reported their findings to the Foreign Office…

Besides all the fun, they had learned to appreciate Havana cigars, rum cocktails, and the merits of the Spanish siesta. Subsequently, when the first World War started, Winston had already adopted the habit of the afternoon siesta, and he continued it ever since till the end of his mortal coil. Resting the brain was considered huge, but more important still, the young men now considered themselves authorities on war. None of their fellow subalterns had been to a war and although their own experience was limited to three days of fighting, they could boast triumphantly of ‘having seen fighting in Cuba’. At least in proximity… with bullets aimed at them, but happily missing them by wide margins.

They happily took the slow steamer back, and reached home in England, only to learn that the 4th Queen’s Own Hussars, were to sail for India immediately. Immediately? Not exactly. Mainly because the necessary regimental preparations would take nearly nine months, and thus it was not until the autumn of 1896, a year and a half after Winston had first received his commission, that the 4th Hussars finally set forth and sailed towards the Raj in the subcontinent of India.

Dreams of India’s ancient traditions, occupied their time aboard during this overlong journey around Africa’s  cape horn towards the subcontinent.

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First they entered India through the Gate of Mumbai. And indeed it was here, where their ship anchored. They disembarked in Bombay harbor. Yet it was also here that Winston was so anxious and impatient to get ashore ahead of anyone else — that he jumped in a small fishing boat, and asked the fishermen to take him immediately ashore.

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Unfortunately, upon reaching the high quay, he was again rash and foolishly impatient, and instead of waiting for the gangplank to be set up, he grabbed at an iron ring to pull himself up. But because of the boat’s movement with the swell going against him – he had to pull harder than his shoulder joint could hold, and thus badly dislocated his shoulder, which proved to be a painful reminder for the rest of his long life, and a handicap for his tennis and for the polo games. It also gave him what he called his own private barometer that warned him of imminent barometric highs and lows, and of sudden changes of weather, through a piercing shoulder pain for the rest of his life.

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Still after bandaging up his sore shoulder, and after sowing his wild oats at the brothels of Bombay where they spend significant amount of hours and days duly documenting scientifically the virtuous of the nautch girls and the beautiful prostitutes of the Mumbai Raj, they had to rest…

Yet not for long, because they got up on the saddle immediately and … run back to the girls.

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The girls were exceedingly beautiful exotic and mesmerizing… Their dark olive smooth skin made them irresisstible and the more they enjoyed themselves, the more they wanted them. The fact that these pretty whores were schooled into the sexual skills carefully, and they knew the dark arts that made themselves indispensable and kept the men captivated in a state of Lust and Love indistinguishable from the real thing. Winston and his men were like sleepwalkers always leading their steps to the brothels of Mumbai where they not only spent all of their money, but where they also got in huge debts to the money lenders and that kept them further attached… to the beautiful girls and their habits of making men Slaves to their need to be loved.

Loved as only whores know how to love a Man.

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So Winston and his fellows all rested for a while, to regain themselves, and embark upon the continuation of this scientific expedition not the underbelly of this amazing ancient city and it’s wondrous pleasures.

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Here Winston sampled all the earthly and carnal delights India had to offer as sen in the sculptures of the Holy Temples dedicated to Shiva.

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And it was here that the young subaltern fully tasted and feasted up to the point of satiation all of the human lust he could handle, along with all the other officers of the Hussars and all the enlisted men, in a show of camaraderie and classless equality in front of the pretty Indian whores that were employed at this most ancient industrial coupling business.

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Only after this sojourn tat lasted a full fortnight, they were able to free themselves and clear up their social calendar so that they can continue onwards and forwards. Some no doubt stayed behold but were brought forth when the regiment traveled South towards Bangalore in Southern India.

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Bangalore, is a thriving and technologically adept city, near the ancient city of Mysore, at the great Princely State of Mysore, resting in a high plateau of 3,000 feet, whose latitude and longitude coordinates are: 12.972442, 77.580643 and that is rather useful for topographical maps that Winston was always learning how to use properly for war ad peace purposes. Today, Bangalore (Bengaluru) is a large city, since it became the capital of Karnataka state, with its population reaching about 9 million people. That is why it is considered the third most populous city of India. Bangalore is an old and beautiful city, with plenty of attractions, cultural and architectural relics, religious buildings, and a vibrant life and innovation.

Needless to say, Bangalore had a similarly thriving sexual scene as Mumbai and their brothels were populated by Tamil girls that were darker and even prettier than their Northern competitors…

The Hussars had to sample the earthly delights some more here in their Southern hospitable station, as well.

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The 4th Hussars regiment was stationed at the plateau of Mysore in the city of Bangalore in Karnataka state of Southern India. Because this plateau rests at an elevation of more than 3,000 feet — it is quite pleasant to live there year-round.

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So soon enough Winston needed his privacy, and thus sought his own accommodations, away from the military barracks, or the Officer’s Club, and he went out, found, and rented a pink and white stucco bungalow, covered with roses, which he shared with three other fellow cavalry officers. The young men pooled their money, organized their servants and furnished their own home where they settled down happily to enjoy themselves.

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They all together spent the mornings drilling, parading, and attending to their regimental duties, and then spent their hot afternoons sleeping off the midday heat, and the Monsoon. But at five o’clock the real business of the day began, because in the cool of the early evening, they had strenuous and thrilling polo matches, since polo was the main social and athletic competition pivot, around which all the Life of the cavalry officers in India was built.

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And although Winston had to ride with his shoulder strapped, he often played ten, or even twelve chukkas (rounds). His Bangalore life was not entirely carefree because he was driven to do something with himself, and he was also going to earn some measure of military distinction, so he was looking to join the fighting sooner rather than later. He also had to face constant money worries, because the polo ponies were expensive, and his gear and kit was also in need of constant replenishment, and even the military mess, and the officer’s club, operated on a lordly scale. So every now and then, Winston was forced to visit the native money lenders where he borrowed money at the rate of twenty-four per cent interest per year. From then on, he always declaimed the usurious rates of the Indian money lenders, but he also learned the economic lessons of inflation and the attendant loss of value and productivity…

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Soon enough though Winston managed to fit in, and to find his groove, and in the end all home front things, all Bangalore matters, and all the worries around Winston, seem to have adjusted themselves to a tropical balance, because here it is where he found LOVE. Winston found Love in the face of beautiful Pamela, the daughter of the local British Raj “Resident of Hyderabad” representative of the Empire.

 

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Pamela Plowden, was an ice queen whom Winston loved like a lovebird — and she reciprocated his love in carnal and lustful ways, but not in the ways of the heart. Still they got stuck to each other as if they were twins until Winston discovered her triple timing betrayals with three other lovers simultaneously to her professing her Love to him. But that is to be expected of marriageable upper crust English girls seeking the best match in a cool profitable way for their progeny.

 

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Love, lust and circumstance, brought them together. The Tropics only helped… And that is No-Balance at all. Ambition, distinction, and the life of an Officer of the British Empire along with Pamela’s slutty ways, and her being too much like Winston’s mother — drove them apart.

 

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And although Winston hated to part company with his lovely Pamela, but at least he had forgetfulness to assist him with it, along with some strong Indian hashish, that accompanied his midday meals and caused the following longish naps…

 

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Ahh, the strong habits of the Raj might still rankle some to this day, but there you have it. Hash was good and weak back then, and the people were fond of it and favored it for their “gateaux” after the main meal.

Winston with his love muscle satiated, went on to stumble forwards with panache and boldness, and he found success and distinction, in his many campaigns. At least this is what Winston learned in his time spent as an Officer of the Empire within the Indian Raj, and also peculiarly enough, it was in his Bangalore tropical days where his Star shone the brightest, at least as far as Love, Lust, & Circumstance were concerned. And let’s not forget the abundant sexual gratification with all kinds of nautch girls, and the romantic sex with his beloved, and the stimulation of writing, while finding his own Life’s Purpose. All of these processes got started in the Indian tropical subcontinent and as far as Winston was concerned, the world was at rights again after the terrible season of death he had experienced in old England.

Here is where he gained depth in his waters, and he started writing in earnest, and that’s how he also came to erase his addiction to the nautch girls, to his romantic love English ice princess, and to the other pretty prostitutes of Bangalore’s harems in the great subcontinent at the tropic of Mysore.

True Love, cured him of his need for frequent coupling with the dark pretty whores whom he called the true Goddesses of India, and the mistresses of the soft underbelly of Civilization.

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Here is where Winston also learned a whole lot about women, while out there traipsing around the flesh-pots of Bangalore. “Bang-galore Bangalore” as it is commonly known to this day… has more earthly delights than Paris and London combined, and those old Maharajas of Mysore cultivated the Art of the Harem for centuries, so this was not a new thing for the New Masters of the Empire to master and ride on…

Winston learned quickly, no matter the subject at hand. He learned by observation and by practice. Same like an infant who is watching other people walk — learns that walking is possible — success calls you to turn possibility into reality, by stumbling forward, like every other ambulatory infant, or young adult. And so did Winston learned the esoteric arts of the Orient…

Many other pioneers before him like Rudyard Kipling and all the Explorers of the East, may have stepped out boldly into the unknown, but the “jungles” surrounding Bangalore and the deep flesh of India are still the unknown for everyone who hasn’t gone there before. Yet Winston said that it all feels like having to let go of custom and civilization and keep going forward.

KBO, became his motto of keep going on, or best said as keep going forward. KBO is an axiom of living life according to a plan that is straight forward — yet flexible and resilient. Because K.B.O. is simply in the rough language of the brothels of Bangalore, or in the argot of the polo riders, or of the soldiers under fire charging uphill against fortified enemy positions: “Keep Buggering On.”

So KBO became his official motto, expressly understood as his own claim to Leadership. And this is what ultimately brought him distinction in Life, because in some ways Winston truly admired the people who went before him, but never wanted to imitate other people’s path to success, and he wanted to carve is own way out of the jungle of Humanity’s vast possibilities.

Indeed the Indian subcontinent was good for him, because he wondered how can anyone even imagine the possibilities that the future holds, until one has climbed the hill in front of them, and has spied the terrain ahead as only an artillery forward observer can do?

How can Moses talk about the distant horizons and the lands beyond, unless he has been up on the Mountain and has seen the “future” clear and vivid as one can see only from the top of the high peaks?

And once he had truly “seen” he started sharing with others his vision of the World. Because the very art of writing for Winston Churchill, began with looking forward form the high tops, and the magnificent vistas afforded to him, because after his father died – he had to climb his own mountains. And besides, he also had to earn an income to be the head of the household, since his Mother had no head for finances, and his brother Jack was five years his junior. And indeed he was not afraid to fail, nor to try new things, as he often times announced to his mates – that “I had no idea what the heck I was doing, since I had never written anything beyond papers in school, and yet now I write and get my stuff to be read, by our leaders back at home, and others all over the world…”

And it is in those writings that Winston Churchill shows us how normal his common sense were, as he grabs the opportunity to go forward, as this opportunity appears every day, to each and everyone of us. Except it is young Winston Churchill who tries to move ahead, and who sets out to make his mark in the world by earning some measure of distinction for himself.

Because “distinction” for Winston Churchill does not mean earning medals. Earning medals like the Victoria Cross, that he richly deserved, and yet never got… is not what the game of Life is all about. Same as it is not about being liked in Real Life or in earning likes on Facebook. Life is far more important to be lived rather than go about playing a small game by seeking other people’s approbation and acclamations while being afraid to offend anyone, or tackle anything of note…

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“Distinction” for Churchill means that you have a clear idea of where you’re going, but you’re not certain of how to get there, so you try the general direction, and hope for the best. Of course this method of putting a dent in the Universe, requires taking outsize risks, and accepting dangers that other men simply will not take.They will not take, not because they are lesser men, but because they are weaker in the heart. Because heart is where Courage exists and that is what differentiates Real Men, from Mere Pussies.

RMs vs MPs is a real thing if you want to know… but I will not explain to you this particularly political sentiment here in these pages…

So long as you are not setting out to make yourself an empty shirt — you’ll be OK. Because I truly believe like Winston, that the clothes, the money, the positions — do not make the man. All these are empty vessels, as most people around us would attest. It is the Man that makes the man and changes the world. And it is only the REAL MAN that carves the widely marked distinction in this Life.

Only then you can make your dent in the Universe…

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And let’s include some PASSION in the mix, because passion is what Winston Churchill had aplenty, and this is what allowed him to clarify what his forward movement might look like. And forward he went. First he moved like a baby elephant making all kinds of noise and rejecting perfection, but he nonetheless kept swinging for the fences. Anyway, this is what he did best, each and every time that he started an adventure by stepping into something unknown, something new, and something strange, with passion, openness, and gusto.

His everlasting and evergreen confidence, always began with ‘I think I can do this’ but still, I will gather around me all the best heads to teach me, and support me, if I am to reach success. This he did, because, he had to stumble forward boldly, and like a baby elephant he might fall and roll over, and then he might also have to traipse through the foliage for quite a while, before he gains his sure footing.

But every time he asked for help — he reckoned, and often times he even used and said this harmless “petard” in order to entice people to help him in one or another of his harebrained schemes like the Dardanelles campaign where he wanted to redraw the glory of the Greeks sacking Troy, and fashioned himself as King Agamemnon — the Victor of that famous battle and the long remembered War that Homer sang for eternity.

That is why young Winston Churchill, as the First Lord of the Admiralty, used this “petard” in order to change the old policy with the new policy, that he had devised in order to take Constantinople from the remnants of the failing Ottoman empire: “It is far easier to help a young elephant stand-up, than it is to try to prop-up a dying elephant, by attempting to stop him from falling down.”

To Be Continued…

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | June 20, 2017

Friend…

Again, the violet bows to the lily.
Again, the rose is tearing off her gown!
The green ones have come from the other world,
tipsy like the breeze up to some new foolishness.

Again, near the top of the mountain
the anemone’s sweet features appear.
The hyacinth speaks formally to the jasmine,
“Peace be with you.” “And peace to you, lad!

Come walk with me in this meadow.”
Again, there are violets everywhere!
The bud is shy, but the wind removes
her veil suddenly, “My friend!”

The Friend is here like water in the stream,
like a lotus on the water.
The narcissus winks at the wisteria,
“Whenever you say.”

And the clove to the willow, “You are the one
I hope for.” The willow replies, “Consider
these chambers of mine yours. Welcome!”
The apple, “Orange, why the frown?”

“So that those who mean harm
will not see my beauty.”
The ringdove comes asking, “Where,
where is the Friend?”

With one note the nightingale
indicates the rose.
Again, the season of Spring has come
and a spring-source rises under everything,
a moon sliding from the shadows.

Many things must be left unsaid, because it’s late,
but whatever conversation we haven’t had
tonight, we’ll have tomorrow.

–Rumi

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | June 14, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 22)

EMPIRES OF THE MIND 

Empires of the mind are those cultural ideas the live inside the minds of humans. They are the Empires that are made not of brick and mortar, but of the far stronger world of Ideas and Principled Beliefs. Empires of the mind multiply and spread as they go from one host to another as they are communicated and migrating from the brain of one person to another using the modern communications networks like the civilizing influence of modern Internet, ideas like Democracy and the networks that seek to spread that one, and the ‘Telecoms Convergence’ and ‘Communications Revolution’ of the various Social Media, that has allowed our world to shrink to the basic ‘Symmetry and Size’ of the ‘Global Brain’ operating with about the same number of synapses and nodes of communication… as a human brain does.

 

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Empires of the Mind, are very much like Brain Software, as another one of my books explains. There is good software and bad software. As there are good ideas and bad ideas. The good empires of the mind are the ones based on good ideas like Christianity, the Power of Reason, Analytical thinking, Justice, Democracy, and Liberty. And the bad empires of the mind are those that despise slavery, killing, despotism, slavery, savagery, injustice, hate, and destruction of the individual, like Islam demands of it’s adherents and followers. ISIS is an emanation of the Evil Empires of the Mind, much like Islam finds it’s success by spreading from the brain of one host to another, always weakening the mental capacity of the host and often times directing them to kill themselves, just os they can spread this evil virus. That explains the Islamic terrorists, committing suicide by exploding themselves up, hoping to spread their virulent form of hateful ideology to many other disillusioned youths by example. And that’s how you build an evil empire of the mind.

Yet originally the definition of ‘Empires of the Mind’ was defined by none other than Winston Churchill, who clearly stated that the future empires will be the only Empires of the Mind. And we see plenty of evidence of that today, regardless of when we speak of ‘Western Civilization’ or of the ‘American Dream’ or of NATO, or speaking of Chinese Soft Power, and alas when we speak of ISIS, this veritable Empire of the Mind Caliphate without geographical borders and without any of the traditional vestiges of the Empire, but with terrible presence inside more than 92 countries already.

 

 

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But we digress… and we need to go back to our timeline as guided by the times and life of Winston getting into his maturity…

‘Res ipsa loquitur’ is all the Latin language skill young pupil Winston Churchill ever needed, or bothered to learn, and actually memorize. This is only significant because he used this phrase as ‘this thing that actually speaks for itself’ often enough, after having given up on speaking to the ‘Mensa’ from his early Harrow schooling days….

Indeed now that he had found his “metier” in studying the things that he liked to do with his Life; and specifically the skills of Leadership & Statesmanship — Winston Churchill thrived. He not only thrived but he started the practice of really immersing himself in all the things he was exposed to amidst the Military Arts, because he loved the method of teaching at Sandhurst, the disciplined approach to battle strategy learning, the constant regimental exercises, and the fighting & sporting equestrian lifestyle of the Royal Military Academy of Sandhurst where he was learning how to be a Cavalry officer and a soldier of the Empire.

Indeed ‘Res Ipsa Loquitur’ he always thereafter translated for his listeners, means “the thing speaks for itself” and that explains the sea change that came upon Winston Churchill and turned him from an indifferent devious young cad, to a real student, and a smart bright young officer cadet. ‘Res ipsa loquitur’ otherwise known in strong & simple Anglosaxon language, as ‘the proof is in the pudding.’

For the first time he stopped joking, or simply horsing-around, and instead started studying in earnest. He simply did this, because at the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst the lessons started and ended with the things he loved: Strategy & Tactics. And thereafter his learning simply consisted of Strategic Thinking, Tactical warfare, Preparations for battle, Operations, Logistics, Positioning, Fortification, Topography, Battle plans, and Military Law.

Notably, Winston learned how to lead men into war, how to fight on horseback, how to mount campaigns, and he also learned how to blow up bridges, and overcome breastworks. Yet he also constructed masonry fortifications, that in turn he was able to destroy with mobile field artillery, and he also learned how to make road reconnaissances, and how to work out all of his battle plans on actual topographically correct, contoured maps.

Here is where he came to study the Art of War, and Leadership of men. And this he accomplished rather well.

Yet, he also learned so much more…

 

 

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Churchill, loved the subject of his study to bits, and indeed the wars he loved to study, were not only the ancient Greek-Persian wars, and specifically the battle of the 300 at Thermopylae, or the battle of Marathon, and that defining battle for Western Civilization, the Battle of Salamis — but also the most modern battles of his time, such as the American wars of independence and beyond.

Of course Winston Churchill loved the study of the ancient Peloponnesian Wars, and he also studied carefully the Roman wars of Julius Caesar, but he loved the study of the American battles because he saw the Americans as innovators and kindred folk of his Mother.

He spent a lot of time studying the more recent battles of the European Wars, including the battle of Blenheim and the two pivotal battles of Poitiers. Winston Churchill first developed his distrust towards Islam, after studying the first Battle of Poitiers, of 732 AD now known alternatively as the first battle of Poitiers, or the Battle of Tours, to distinguish it from the second battle of Poitiers that happened some 600 years later. The Battle of Tours followed two decades of Militant Islamic Jihad summed up as the “Umayyad” conquests in Europe which had begun with the invasion of the Visigothic Christian Kingdoms of the Iberian Peninsula in 711 AD and the bypassing and displacement of the Eastern Roman Empire centered in Constantinople and renamed as the Eastern Roman Empire of Byzantium, with it’s Greek language, leadership, and Christian religion, of a strong humanistic and humanitarian custom.

The battle of Poitiers represents the end of the original militant muslim jihadist conquest of Europe, that had started by Islamic settlers, traders, and refugees; when all these were followed by raids and full fledged military expeditions into the heart of Europe as far North as Bordeaux, Paris, Tours, and all the Frankish territories of then Gaul. Gaul or ‘Gallia’ being today’s France and large parts of Germany – at the time were all provinces of the Holy Roman Empire and were fully Christianized. The area that was Gaul extended far, into what are the modern neighboring countries of France. Generally, Gaul is considered the home, from about the eighth century B.C., of ancient Celts who spoke a Gallic language. People known as Ligurians had lived there before the Celts migrated from eastern Europe. Some areas of Gaul had been colonized by the Greeks, especially Nikea modern Nice, Massilia modern Marseilles, and Paris.

This is what the Muslim Umayyad military campaigns wanted to conquer in order to occupy the great European cities and their centers of learning, their wealthy monasteries serving as the first Universities, like ‘Le Sorbonne’ in Paris, the fertile lands, and to also gain the productive agricultural regions and populate them with their People who were pushed due North because of another spell of dry weather and food scarcity in the Northern African and the Middle Eastern lands. The Muslim plan for Europe was to swiftly change the religion and the culture of Europe, in order to build the Great Islamic Caliphate of Europe and Maghreb, and rule it in dynastic succession through the particularly strong method of nepotism and corruption that is so much part of that failed Muslim culture.

Yet, like many other Conquerors of ancient Europe through the Ages — the Muslim Arabs and the Saracens under the control of the Umayyad Caliphs, sought to unify all of Europe using their sharp Damascene curved swords, and the banners of their cultish religion.  And they nearly succeeded, because they came uncomfortably close to bringing all of us, under their foot as they sought to conquer all of the European petty bickering kingdoms, And that is why they mounted their most vicious war of conquest against the Frankish Kings, dukes, and princes, because they were all vastly divided and hating each other.  If this reminds you of anything going on today — holler. Indeed, more heads of nobles, royals, dukes, priests, bishops, and other leading Europeans — rolled away from their bodies, and off their shoulders, serrated by Arab swords — at this time. Far more people lost their heads under the Arab European conquest, than at any other time in history. That must be a nice reminder of the civilizing influence of Islam being the ‘Religion of Peace’ all the cunning Muslim liars keep telling the silly people who still believe them today, and who admit them into their homes unwittingly…

 

 

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Decapitating the heads of the population was the ‘Modus Operandi’ of the Muslim invaders, because they knew that this was indeed the easiest way to turn the people into sheep and rule them forever. Stalin learned this nifty trick from the Muslim invaders of Europe and used it, in order to kill-off all the Polish leadership from his half of the country, by machine gunning them when he moved them as prisoners in the forests of Katyn. This is what this Asiatic communist monster did, when he overrun Poland after the secret agreement between Hitler and himself, to divide her ‘flesh’ amongst them, like a couple of hyenas splitting up a corpse. This was the barbarity that he learned from the Muslim conquerors and Stalin thought it wise to emulate and apply on the innocent peaceful and vanquished Poles. And this is what started the Second World War, more than anything else.

The vast cultural divide between the Monsters and the Innocents is insurmountable, same as it is between Western Civilization and the Communism and Islam, as the looming barbarism of the East. Talk about an Empire of the Mind… fighting another evil empire of the mind.

But don’t despair. There are still people practicing this form of mayhem and decapitation today. And some of them do this in a metaphorical sense — yet very much like some modern era conquerors who seek to turn people into ‘sheeple’ in order to enslave them and rule over them. It is here that you should feel free to fill in the gaps with your favorite culprits, like the Globalists, the Communists, the Socialists, or the Democrats of the DNC today.

Yet back to the Muslim Conquest of Europe — the scale of decapitations of clueless and innocent Europeans, by the Ummayyad Muslims, who were vicious, murderous, and quite numerous, remains unparalleled in human history. And they of course, were quite successful in their campaign of terror. Much like ISIS is today. An Empire of the Mind, starts by controlling the minds of the people and focusing them upon that thing they want you to focus on. Namely Fear and Obedience. That is how the Muslims pushed northward into the heart of France then and that is how they do it today. Back then, the Umayyad controlled large parts of Gaul, the Aquitaine, Burgundy, and even Normandy; through rapid raids, and pirate sorties, that they advanced in order to soften-up their targets, and then they followed  with major military engagements that led to the sieges of fortified cities, and invariably engaged in massive decapitations, mass rape, mass looting, bloody mayhem, and complete sacking of the wealthy upland cities falling in their hands. And fall they did. Strongly fortified cities, like the richest city of France — Bordeaux, capitulated and had the whole lot of their population decapitated, slaughtered, and murdered. And the Muslims left a few survivors, so they can tell the horrible story to others, so that the rest of the Cities will not resist their terrible fate, and thus willingly open their gates, in order to be sacked, and their citizens become enslaved, abused, raped, mauled, and sold off into the slave trade, or exploited as slaves without rights, forever. This was their ‘Modus Operandi’ because the Muslims, then as they are now — were engaged in a vast Terror campaign in order to first enslave the Minds and the Hearts of the population, before they took over their homes and their hearths. And this pattern of rapid conquest, served them well for a few hundred years, until the people cottoned on to that reality, and woke up to fight. This is what happened in Gaul back then when the Muslims, started a full scale raid on Autun. By now the Muslim armies, were vying to conquer the rest of France, and Europe, as they had met only limited resistance from the divided Franks. It was a rather dicey situation and the Muslims took complete advantage of that.

In retrospect we recognize, that should they had succeeded in completing their conquest of Gaul, then, there would be nothing to stop them from crossing the channel and invade England in order to conquer London itself, another wealthy city of the time, that they had set their sights upon. The Muslim armies, were also known to target Germanic, because they had with them good river fording engineers among their military personnel, in order to be able to rapidly construct wooden bridges on barges, that would allow them to ford and cross the rivers Elbe and the Rhine, and thus conquer the Germanic Saxon Christian lands as well. All in order to fulfill their ancient aim of a global Umma of religious Islam, where the whole world would live under strict Islamic Sharia law in blind obedience to a Muslim Theocratic leader. That is what they had in mind, based on the maps they left behind, when their camp, their Caliph’s tent, and their baggage train, were all overrun by the Christian cavalry, at the battle of Poitiers, and that is why the name of their dynasty is Ummayad. Because ‘Umma’ means the whole lot of the community of Muslims. All the faithful, as compared to the Infidels, and as bound together by their ties to this servile cult that is their form of religion, and as distinguished by the infidels. Indeed the distinction between the Muslims and the infidels is so strong in the description of Umma,  and their faith — that the good Muslim, have the duty to terrorize, decapitate, enslave, and eventually convert all the infidels to their own faith. That is what makes Islam dangerous, and that is why in this case ‘Yad’ means the ‘hand’ and that is why, when put together the word ‘UmmaYad’ means the ‘hand of Umma.’ This was also the nom-de-guerre of one of Muhammed soldiers, and thus the members of the Muslim dynasty that ruled the whole of the Islamic world as Caliphs, from 661 AD to 750 AD, and thereafter ruled the European Caliphate through Moorish Spain and the Maghreb, from 756 AD to 1031 AD. This virulent Muslim dynasty alternatively also claimed descent from Umayya, a distant relative and soldier of Muhammad.

The decimated Christians of Europe understood that the Muslims, had to be stopped, before they completed their conquest of Gaul, because otherwise — if they were allowed to do that, then the last remaining Christian kingdom would have been Byzantium. And as we all know, that would have been overrun quickly, when surrounded by the Muslims — as indeed it happened some 700 years later. That was when the Ottomans were laying siege on Vienna itself, on their Second European War of Conquest — this time having come streaming into Europe, through the conquered Balkans. Does this remind anyone of the Muslim hordes streaming into Europe by the Millions between the years 2010 and today?

And could that be the Empire of the Mind that the modern version of the European Caliphate seeks to create in line with ISIS, and the Wahhabi cult of Islam?  Here is why the significance of the battle of Poitiers cannot be overestimated; and as Edward Gibbon the historian that Churchill loved above all others, clearly stated, about what is at stake from this battle: “A victorious line of march had been prolonged above a thousand miles from the rock of Gibraltar to the banks of the Loire; the repetition of an equal space would have carried the Muslim Saracens to the confines of Poland and the Highlands of Scotland, because the Rhine is not more impassable than the Nile, or Euphrates, and the Arabian fleet might have sailed without a naval combat into the mouth of the river Thames. Perhaps the interpretation of the Qur’an would now be taught in the schools of Oxford, and her pulpits might demonstrate to a circumcised people the sanctity and truth of the revelation of Muhammed.” Certainly, the Islamic invasions were an enormous danger to Christianity and Western Civilization and Culture, during the window of 721 AD from Toulouse to 737 AD, and the Arab defeat at Narbonne. But the window was closing fast, because the unified Caliphate collapsed into civil war in 750 AD at the Battle of the Zab, which left the Umayyad dynasty literally wiped out except for the Princes who escaped to Africa, and then Iberia, where they established the Umayyad Emirate, in opposition to the Abbasid Caliphate leading the Muslims and all the ‘faithful’ from Baghdad in today’s Iraq.

In short, we dodged a right bullet here…

 

 

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The Battle of Poitiers, also called the Battle of Tours took place on the 10th of October 732 AD. The same battle was called “The Battle of the Palace of the Martyrs” (Arabic: معركة بلاط الشهداء‎, Ma’arakat Balāṭ ash-Shuhadā’‎), by the losing Arabs, because they lost so many warriors that they had to glorify them and memorialize them if they had any hope of further recruitment. Because indeed the vast majority of the Arab cavalry fighters were killed along with the head of their Caliphate, the Emir-King Abdul Rahman Al Gafiqi. This is why they were called “Martyrs” by the losing side. Overall, the battle was fought between the Frankish and Burgundian forces arrayed under Charles Martel, and positioned against a great army of the Umayyad Caliphate led by the Emir ‘Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi’ governor-general, of the ‘Al Andalus,’ the Iberian Muslim Arabic kingdom of the Maghreb. The battle of Poitiers was fought in the heart of the French soil, in an area between the cities of Poitiers and Tours, in northern France, near the village of “Moussais-la-Bataille” resting about 20 kilometres northeast of today’s Poitiers. The location of the battle was close to the border between the then Frankish realm and the then independent Aquitaine. The battle turned and the warring Franks were victorious. ‘Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi’ the Islamic king was slayed, as were most of his fighters. Thereafter the victorious King Charles continued to advance and thus extended his authority in the South, all the way into the weakened parts of the Al Andalus Iberian stronghold…

 

 

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Contemporary chroniclers, who interpreted the outcome of the battle as divine judgment in his favour, gave Charles the nickname Martel, as in the latin ‘Martellus’ meaning ‘The Hammer.’ The later historical chroniclers along with the pre-20th century historians also praised Charles Martel, as the great champion of Christianity, because they characterized this battle of Tours (or Poitiers), as the decisive turning point in the struggle against Islam in Europe. And indeed they were correct because in hindsight, a struggle which managed to allow the space for the further development of the Empire of the Mind that is the Western Civilization of today, and it also allowed and preserved Christianity as the religion of Europe and the Western World. According to modern military historian Victor Davis Hanson, “most of the 18th and 19th century historians, like Edward Gibbon, saw Poitiers (Tours), as a landmark battle that marked the high tide of the Muslim advance into Europe.” Leopold von Ranke felt that “Poitiers was the turning point of one of the most important epochs in the history of the world.”

There is little dispute that the battle helped lay the foundations of the Carolingian Empire and Frankish domination of Europe for the next centuries. Still most historians agree that “the establishment of Christian Frankish power in western Europe, shaped that continent’s destiny and the Battle of Tours (or Poitiers) in 732 AD, confirmed that power.” Yet it was this pivotal moment when Charles’s victory against the Muslims came and this is what is widely believed to have fully stopped the northward advance of the Muslim Jihadist Umayyad forces streaming out from the conquered and therefore Islamic Iberian Peninsula, and thus we have managed to preserve Christianity in Europe during a period when the virulent and vigorous Muslim tide was overrunning all the remaining vestiges of the old Greco-Roman, the Byzantine, and the Persian Empires.

 

 

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The two vastly different armies; represented by the vast armada of the darkly attired Muslims, on one side, and the luminously dressed and boldly white clothed Christians on the other side, met at the intersection where the rivers Clain and Vienne join-up, between the ancient cities of Tours and Poitiers. The exact number of troops in each army is not precisely known, but as the Mozarabic Chronicle of 754, a Latin contemporary source which describes the battle in greater detail than any other Latin or Arabic source, states: “The people of Austrasia [the Frankish European forces], fought against a Muslim force far greater in number of soldiers and cavalry and formidably armed, yet the Europeans quickly killed the Muslim king “Abd ar-Rahman” and turned the battle in their favor. This pivotal military anomaly, in the turning of a battle by decapitating it’s leadership, agrees with the many Arab and Muslim historians, virtually all of which estimate the Europeans with only 30,000 men at arms, being woefully inadequate in force numbering far less than half and maybe about a quarter of the Muslim military force. Yet the Christian Frankish and allied forces, were led well by King Charles, and by being disciplined, and well organized managed to withstand the cavalry charges of the Muslim cavalry and footmen, and then turned the numerical superiority of the enemy into a disadvantage by swinging their wings in a turning battle that led to the defeat of the far greater number of crowded Islamic Jihadist forces. The Europeans by closing in their wings, boxed-in the enemy’s cavalry and slaughtered them all along with their King, putting to end this battle in such a terminal way, as to have the Muslims  completely rooted, annihilated, and overrun. It is significant to mention that the Europeans rejoiced at this Victory, after so many years having suffered a series of humiliating defeats amidst the constant onslaught of the tide from the Muslim & Arab Jihadists who enslaved and put to sword all of the territories that their contemporary European sovereigns had lost over the last few decades. Now after the battle of Poitiers the Frankish King and the Europeans finally got their revenge once and for all…

Charles, the Christian leader was merciful and magnanimous, yet his armies could not be restrained and upon Victory continued the slaughter indiscriminately until they were restrained by Charles Martel, after the battlefield had become muddy from the spilled blood of human and horse. Such is the severity of war that no quarter was given in this battle of Civilization, that to this day is remembered as the greatest battle of Christendom.

With the victory at Poitiers, the Europeans were finally stemming their territorial losses and thus managed to finally put an end to the Arab conquest, and the Islamization of Europe, in such a defining way, that the Battle of Poitiers is considered the defining “Full Stop” of the Muslim Jihadist Arab Army’s expansionary European conquest. The generalized bloodshed was such that the Muslim historians call this the “The battle of the Place of Martyrs” because of the large number of Muslim warriors that were put to the sword, and that is where the beginning of the modern myth of the Muslim “Martyrs” receiving 72 virgins and giant plates of rice-pilaf, really got started. After this total rooting of the Islamic forces in Europe — the recruitment drive of the Muslim jihad had to rekindle itself and they came up with this piece of malarkey, promising the jihadists a Paradise that is similar to the Earthly delights they hoped to get through the conquest and enslavement of all the European people.
Good thing it turned pear-shaped for them, and all the Muslim fighters at Poitiers were displaced to Hell or whatever place is reserved in the afterlife, for all those seeking to terrorize, decapitate, and enslave free people all over this good God’s Green Earth.

 

 

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And here is how the Vatican Latin library recalls the Battle of Poitiers and that is how Winston Churchill had studied the :battle in his time as well, always form the best original sources as masticated by Historians like Gibbon and other notables.

“BATTLE OF TOURS (732 A.D.)

The Battle of Tours (often called the Battle of Poitiers, but not to be confused with the Battle of Poitiers, 1356) was fought on October 10, 732 between forces under the Frankish leader Charles Martel and a massive invading Islamic army led by Emir Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi Abd al Rahman, near the city of Tours, France. During the battle, the Franks defeated the Islamic army and Emir Abd er Rahman was killed. This battle stopped the northward advance of Islam from the Iberian peninsula, and is considered by most historians to be of macrohistorical importance, in that it halted the Islamic conquests, and preserved Christianity as the controlling faith in Europe, during a period in which Islam was overrunning the remains of the old Roman and Persian Empires.

Combatants

Franks, led by Charles Martel. Estimates of the Frankish army defending Gaul vary, but by most accounts were between 15,000 and 75,000. Losses according to St. Denis were about 1,500.

Muslims, between 60,000 and 400,000 cavalry, (most likely closer to the lower number) under Abd er Rahman; besides source differences, this army is difficult to estimate in size, since it was often fractured into raiding parties to carry out the pillaging and plundering of various richly cultured Frankish centers; however, the entire Muslim army was present at Tours by Arab accounts. During the six days he waited to begin the Battle, Abd er Rahman recalled all those columns raiding and pillaging, so that on the seventh day, when by both eastern and western accounts the Battle began, both armies were at full strength.

Prelude

The Muslims in northern Spain had easily overrun Septimania, had set up a capital at Narbonne which they called Arbuna, giving its largely Arian inhabitants honorable terms, and quickly pacified the south and for some years threatened Frankish territories. Duke Odo of Aquitaine, also known as Eudes the Great, had decisively defeated a major invasion force in 721 at the Battle of Toulouse, but Arab raids continued, in 725 reaching as far as the city of Autun in Burgundy. Threatened by both the Arabs in the south and by the Franks in the north, in 730 Eudes allied himself with Uthman ibn Naissa, called “Munuza” by the Franks, the Berber emir in what would later become Catalonia. As a gage, Uthman was given Eudes’s daughter Lampade in marriage to seal the alliance, and Arab raids across the Pyrenees, Eudes’ southern border, ceased [1].

However, the next year, Uthman rebelled against the governor of al-Andalus, Abd er Rahman. Abd er Rahman quickly crushed the revolt, and next directed his attention against the traitor’s former ally, Eudes. According to one unidentified Arab, “That army went through all places like a desolating storm.” Duke Eudes (called King by some), collected his army at Bordeaux, but was defeated, and Bordeaux was plundered. The slaughter of Christians at the River Garonne was evidently horrific; Isidorus Pacensis commented that “solus Deus numerum morientium vel pereuntium recognoscat”, ‘God alone knows the number of the slain’ (Chronicon). The Muslim horsemen then utterly devastated that portion of Gaul, their own histories saying the “faithful pierced through the mountains, tramples over rough and level ground, plunders far into the country of the Franks, and smites all with the sword, insomuch that when Eudo came to battle with them at the River Garonne, and fled.” Eudes appealed to the Franks for assistance, which Charles Martel only granted after Eudes agreed to submit to Frankish authority.

In 732, the Arab advance force was proceeding north toward the River Loire having already outpaced their supply train and a large part of their army. Essentially, having easily destroyed all resistance in that part of Gaul, the invading army had split off into several raiding parties, simply looting and destroying, while the main body advanced more slowly. A military explanation for why Eudes was defeated so easily at Bordeaux, after having won 11 years earlier at Battle of Toulouse, was simple. At Toulouse, Eudes managed a basic surprise attack against an overconfident and unprepared foe, all of whose defensive works were aimed inward, while he attacked from the outside. The Arab cavalary never got a chance to mobilize and meet him in open battle. At Bordeaux, they did, and resulted in absolute devastation of Eudes army, almost all of whom were killed, with minimal losses to the Muslims. Eudes forces, like other European troops of that era, lacked stirrups, and therefore had no armoured cavalry. Virtually all of their troops were infantry. The Muslim heavy cavalry broke the Christian infantry in their first charge, and then simply slaughtered them at will as they broke and ran. The invading force then went on to devastate southern Gaul, preparing it for complete conquest. One of the major raiding parties advanced on Tours. A possible motive, according to the second continuator of Fredegar, was the riches of the Abbey of Saint Martin of Tours, the most prestigious and holiest shrine in western Europe at the time. Upon hearing this, Austrasia Mayor of the Palace Charles Martel, collected his army of an estimated 15-75,000 veterans, and marched south avoiding the old Roman roads hoping to take the Muslims by surprise.

Location

Despite the great importance of this battle, its exact location remains unknown. Most historians assume that the two armies met each other where the rivers Clain and Vienne join between Tours and Poitiers.

The battle

Charles chose to begin the battle in a defensive, phalanx-like formation. According to the Arabian sources they drew up in a large square. Certainly, given the disparity between the armies, in that the Franks were mostly infantry, all without armour, against mounted and Arab armored or mailed horsemen, (the Berbers were less heavily protected) Charles Martel fought a brilliant defensive battle. In a place and time of his choosing, he met a far superior force, and defeated it.

For six days, the two armies watched each other with just minor skirmishes. The Muslims waited for their full strength to arrive, which it did, but they were still uneasy. No good general, and Abd er Rahman was one, liked to let his opponent pick the ground and conditions for battle — and Martel had done both. Creasy says, and his theory is probably best, that the Muslims best strategic choice would have been to simply decline battle, depart with their loot, garrisoning the captured towns in southern Gaul, and return when they could force Martel to a battleground more to their liking, one that maximized the huge advantage they had of the first true “knights” mailed and amoured horsemen — the Franks, without stirrups in wide use, had to depend on unarmoured foot soldiers. Martel gambled everything that Abd er Rahman would in the end feel compelled to battle, and to go on and loot Tours. Neither of them wanted to attack. The Franks were well dressed for the cold, and had the terrain advantage. The Arabs were not as prepared for the intense cold, but did not want to attack what they thought might be a numerically superior Frankish army. (most historians believe it was not) Essentially, the Arabs wanted the Franks to come out in the open, while the Franks, formed in a tightly packed defensive formation, wanted them to come uphill, into the trees, (negating at once some of the advantages of their cavalry). It became a waiting game, which Martel won. The fight commenced on the seventh day, as Abd er Rahman did not want to postpone the battle indefinitely.

The Emir Abd er Rahman trusted the tactical superiority of his cavalry, and had them charge repeatedly. This time the faith the Muslims had in their cavalry, armed with their long lances and swords which had brought them victory in previous battles, was not justified.

In one of the rare instances where medieval infantry stood up against cavalry charges, the disciplined Frankish soldiers withstood the assaults, though according to Arab sources, the Arab cavalry several times broke into the interior of the Frankish square. But despite this, Franks did not break, and it is probably best expressed by a translation of an Arab account of the battle from the Medieval Source Book: “And in the shock of the battle the men of the North seemed like North a sea that cannot be moved. Firmly they stood, one close to another, forming as it were a bulwark of ice; and with great blows of their swords they hewed down the Arabs. Drawn up in a band around their chief, the people of the Austrasians carried all before them. Their tireless hands drove their swords down to the breasts of the foe.”

It might have been different, however, had the Muslim forces remained under control. According to Muslim accounts of the battle, in the midst of the fighting on the second day, scouts from the Franks began to raid the camp and supply train (including slaves and other plunder). A large portion of the army broke off and raced back to their camp to save their plunder. What appeared to be a retreat soon became one. While attempting to restore order to his men, who had managed to break into the defensive square, Abd er Rahman was surrounded by Franks and killed.

According to a Frankish source, the battle lasted one day. Frankish histories claim that when the rumor went through the Arab army that Frankish cavalry threatened the booty they had taken from Bordeaux, (Charles supposedly had sent scouts to cause chaos in the Muslim base camp, and free as many of the slaves as possible, hoping to draw off part of his foe, it succeeded beyond his wildest dreams), many of the Muslim Cavalry returned to their camp. This, to the rest of the Muslim army, appeared to be a full-scale retreat, and soon it was one. Both histories agree that while attempting to stop the retreat, Abd er Rahman became surrounded, which led to his death, and the Muslims returned to their camp.

The next day, when the Muslims did not renew the battle, the Franks feared an ambush. Only after extensive reconnaissance by Frankish soldiers of the Muslim camp was it discovered that the Muslims had retreated during the night.

Aftermath

The Arab army retreated south over the Pyrenees. Charles earned his nickname Martel, meaning hammer, in this battle. He continued to drive the Muslims from France in subsequent years. After Eudes died, who had been forced to acknowledge, albeit reservedly, the suzerainty of Charles in 719, his son wished independence. Though Charles wished to unite the duchy directly to himself and went there to elicit the proper homage of the Aquitainians, the nobility proclaimed Odo’s son, Hunold, whose dukedom Charles recognised when the Arabs invaded Provence the next year. Hunold, who originally resisted acknowledging Charles as overlord, had no choice when the Muslims returned.

In 736 the Caliphate launched another massive invasion — this time by sea. This naval Arab invasion was headed by Abdul Rahman’s son. It landed in Narbonne in 736 and took Arles. Charles, the conflict with Hunold put aside, descended on the Provençal strongholds of the Muslims. In 736, he retook Montfrin and Avignon, and Arles and Aix-en-Provence with the help of Liutprand, King of the Lombards. Nîmes, Agde, and Béziers, held by Isalm since 725, fell to him and their fortresses destroyed. He smashed a Muslim force at the River Berre, and prepared to meet their primary invasion force at Narbonne. He defeated a mighty host outside of that city, using for the first time, heavy cavalry of his own, which he used in coordination with his planax. He crushed the Muslim army, though outnumbered, but failed to take the city. Provence, however, he successfully rid of its foreign occupiers.

Notable about these campaigns was Charles’ incorporation, for the first time, of heavy cavalry with stirrups to augment his phalanx. His ability to coordinate infantry and cavalry veterans was unequaled in that era and enabled him to face superior numbers of invaders, and decisively defeat them again and again. Some historians believe Narbonne in particular was as imporant a victory for Christian Europe as Tours. Charles was that rarest of commonities in the dark ages: a brilliant stategic general, who also was a tactical commander par excellance, able in the crush and heat of battle to adapt his plans to his foes forces and movement — and amazingly, defeated them repeatedly, especially when, as at Tours, they were far superior in men and weaponry, and at Berre and Narbonne, when they were superior in numbers of brave fighting men. Charles had the last quality which defines genuine greatness in a military commander: he foresaw the dangers of his foes, and prepared for them with care; he used ground, time, place, and fierce loyalty of his troops to offset his foes superior weaponry and tactics; third, he adapted, again and again, to the enemy on the battlefield, cooly shifting to compensate for the foreseen and unforeseeable.

The importance of these campaigns, Tours and the later campaigns of 736-7 in putting an end to Muslim bases in Gaul, and any immediate ability to expand Islamic influence in Europe, cannot be overstated. Gibbons and his generation of historians, and the majority of modern experts agree with them that they were unquestionably decisive in world history. Despite these victories, the Arabs remained in control of Narbonne and Septimania for another 27 years, but could not expand further than that. The treaties reached earlier with the local population stood firm and were further consolidated in 734 when the governor of Narbonne, Yusuf ibn ‘Abd al-Rahman al-Fihri, concluded agreements with several towns on common defense arrangements against the encroachments of Charles Martel, who had systematically brought the south to heel as he extended his domains. He believed, and rightly so, that it was vital to keep the Muslims in Iberia, and not allow them a foothold in Gaul itself. Though he won the battle of Narbonne when the army there came out to meet him, Charles failed in his attempt to take Narbonne by siege in 737, when the city was jointly defended by its Muslim Arab and Christian Visigoth citizens. It was left to his son, Pippin the short, to force the city’s surrender, in 759, and to drive the Arabs completely back to Iberia, and bring Narbonne into the Frankish Domains. His Grandson, Charlamagne, became the first Christian ruler to actually begin what would be called the Reconquista from Europe proper. In the east of the peninsula the Frankish emperors established the Marca Hispanica across the Pyrenees in part of what today is Catalonia, reconquering Girona in 785 and Barcelona in 801. This formed a buffer zone against Islam across the Pyrenees.

In Western history

Christian contemporaries, from Bede to Theophanes carefully recorded the battle and were keen to spell out what they saw as its implications. Later scholars, such as Edward Gibbon, would contend that had Martel fallen, the Moors would have easily conquered a divided Europe. Gibbon wrote that “A victorious line of march had been prolonged above a thousand miles from the rock of Gibraltar to the banks of the Loire; the repetition of an equal space would have carried the Saracens to the confines of Poland and the Highlands of Scotland; the Rhine is not more impassable than the Nile or Euphrates, and the Arabian fleet might have sailed without a naval combat into the mouth of the Thames. Perhaps the interpretation of the Qur’an would now be taught in the schools of Oxford, and her pulpits might demonstrate to a circumcised people the sanctity and truth of the revelation of Muhammed.” Certainly, the Islamic invasions were an enormous danger during the window of 721 from Toulouse to 737 at the Arab defeat at Narbonne. But the window was closing. The unified Caliphate collapsed into civil war in 750 at the Battle of the Zab which left the Umayyad dynasty literally wiped out except for the Princes who escaped to Africa, and then Iberia, where they established the Umayyad Emirate in opposition to the Abbasid Caliph in Baghdad.

Both ancient, mid, and modern historians agree that Martel was the father of western heavy cavalry, and literally stole the technoloy from his slain foe! He had no trouble using his enemies tools against them, no pride stopped him from seizing any advantage he could in defending his faith, his father’s home and homeland, and his people, from what he saw was a danger that would destroy them if not checked. His foresight in moving to strike first, to stop them short of his “front door,” reminds one of Winston Churchill’s famous statement, that “it is better to fight in your neighbors back yard, than have to defend your own front door.” In 5 short years, from the Battle of Tours, to the Battle of Narbonne, he fathered western heavy cavalry, and used it in conjunction with his planax with devastating effect.

In the modern era, Norwich, the most widely read authority on the Eastern Roman Empire, says the Franks halting Muslim Expansion at Tours literally preserved Christianity as we know it. A more realistic viewpoint may be found in Barbarians, Marauders, and Infidels by Antonio Santosuosso, Professor Emeritus of History at the University of Western Ontario, and considered an expert historian in the era in dispute in this article. It was published in 2004, and has quite an interesting modern expert opinion on Charles Martel, Tours, and the subsequent campaigns against Rahman’s successor in 736-737. Santosuosso makes a compelling case that these defeats of invading Muslim Armies, were at least as important as Tours in their defense of western Christianity, and the preservation of those Christian monastaries and centers of learning which ultimately led Europe out of the dark ages. He also makes a compelling case that while Tours was unquestionably of macrohistorical importance, the later battles were at least equally so. Both invading forces defeated in those campaigns had come to set up permanent outposts for expansion, and there can be no doubt that these three defeats combined broke the back of European expansion by Islam while the Caliphate was still united. While some modern assessments of the battle’s impact have backed away from the extreme of Gibbon’s position, Gibbons’s conjecture is supported by other historians such as Edward Shepard Creasy and William E. Watson. Most modern historians such as Norwich and Santosuosso generally support the concept of Tours as a macrohistorical event favoring western civilization and Christianity . Military writers such as Robert W. Martin, “The Battle of Tours is still felt today”, also argue that Tours was such a turning point in favor of western civilization and Christianity that its aftereffect remains to this day.

In Arab history

Contemporary Arab historians and chroniclers are much more interested in the second Umayyad siege Arab defeat at Constantinople in 718, which ended in a disastrous defeat. After the first Arab siege of Constantinople (674-678) ended in complete failure, the Arabs Umayyad Caliphate attempted a second decisive attack on the city. An 80,000 strong army led by Maslama, the brother of Caliph Umar II, crossed the Bosporus from Anatolia to besiege Constantinople by land, while a massive fleet of Arab war galleys, estimated between 1,800 and 2,000, sailed into the Sea of Marmara to the south of the city. Fortunately for the Byzantines, the great chain kept the fleet from entering the inner harbor, and the Arab galleys were unable to sail up the Bosporus as they were under constant attack and harassment by the Greek fleet, who used Greek fire to level the differences in numbers. (The Byzantine fleet was less than a third of the Arab, but Greek fire swiftly evened the numbers). Emperor Leo III was able to use the famed Walls of Constantinople to his advantage and the Arab army was unable to breach them. (it must be noted that Bulgar forces had come to the aid of the Byzantines, and constantly harassed the Muslim army, and definitely disrupted resupply to the point that much of the army was close to starvation by the time the siege was abandoned. Some Muslim historians have argued that had the Caliph recalled his armies from Europe to aid in the siege, the city might have been taken by land, despite the legendary walls – such a recall would have doubled the army laying siege, allowed a full attack while still beating off Bulgar forces attempting to end the siege by harassing the army from outside while the defenders held the walls.

Some contemporary historians argue that had the Arabs actually wished to conquer Europe they could easily have done so. Essentially these historians argue that the Arabs were not interested enough to mount a major invasion, because Northern Europe at that time was considered to be a socially, culturally and economically backward area with little to interest any invaders. Some western scholars, such as Bernard Lewis, agree with this stance, though they are in a minority.

This is also disputed by Arab histories of the period circa 722-850 which mentioned the Franks more than any other Christian people save the Byzantines, (The Arabian chronicles were compiled and translated into Spanish by José Antonio Conde, in his “Historia de la Dominación de los Árabes en España”, published at Madrid in 1820, and in dealing specifically with this period, the Arab chronicles discuss the Franks as one of two non-Muslim Powers then concerning the Caliphate). Further, this is disputed by the records of the Islamic raids into India and other non-Muslim states for loot and converts. Given the great wealth in Christian shrines such as the one at Tours, Islamic expansion into that area would have been likely had it not been sharply defeated in 732, 736, and 737 by Martel, and internal strife in the Islamic world prevented later efforts. Other relevant evidence of the importance of this battle lies in Islamic expansion into all other regions of the old Roman Empire — except for Europe, and what was retained by Byzantium, the Caliphate took all of the old Roman and Persian Empires. It is not likely Gaul would have been spared save by the campaigns by, and the loyalty of, Charles Martel’s veteran Frankish Army. Finally, it ignores that 4 separate Emirs of al-Andalus, over a 25 year period used a Fatwa from the Caliph to levy troops from all provinces of Africa, Syria, and even Turkomens who were beginning conversion, to raise 4 huge invading armies, well supplied and equipped, with the intention of permanent expansion across the Pyrenees into Europe. No such later attempts however were made as conflict between the Umayyad Emirate of Iberia and the Abbasid Caliphate in Baghdad prevented a unified assault on Europe.

Given the importance Arab histories of the time placed on the death of Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi Abd al Rahman and the defeat in Gaul, and the subsequent defeat and destruction of Muslim bases in what is now France, it seems reasonably certain that this battle did have macrohistorical importance in stopping westward Islamic expansion. Arab histories written during that period and for the next seven centuries make clear that Abdul Rahman Al Ghafiqi Abd al Rahman’s defeat and death was regarded, and most scholars believe, as a catastrophe of major proportions. Their own words record it best: (translated from Arabic) “This deadly defeat of the Moslems, and the loss of the great leader and good cavalier, Abderrahman, took place in the hundred and fifteenth year.” (Islamic Calendar) This, from the portion of the history of the Umayyad Caliphate, and the great Arab period of expansion, also translated into Spanish by Don Jose Antonio Conde, in his “Historia de la Dominacion de los Arabos en España,” appears to put the importance of the Battle of Tours in macrohistorical perspective.

Contemporary analysis

Had Martel fallen at Tours the long term implications for European Christianity may have been devastating. His victory there, and in the following campaigns, may have literally saved Europe and Christianity as we know it, from conquest while the Caliphate was unified and able to mount such a conquest. Had the Franks fallen, no other power existed stopping Muslim conquest of Italy and the effective end of what would become the modern Catholic Church. In addition, Martel’s incorporation of the stirrup and mailed cavalry into the Frankish army gave birth to the armoured Knights which would form the backbone of western armies for the next five centuries. But had Martel failed, there would have been no Charlemagne, no Holy Roman Empire or Papal States. The majority view argues that all these events occurred because Martel was able to contain Islam from expanding into Europe while it could. His son retook Narbonne, and his Grandson Charlamagne actually established the Marca Hispanica across the Pyrenees in part of what today is Catalonia, reconquering Girona in 785 and Barcelona in 801. This formed a permanent buffer zone against Islam, with Frankish strongholds in Iberia, which became the basis, along with the King of Asturias, named Pelayo (718-737, who started his fight against the Moors in the mountains of Covadonga 722) for the origins of the Reconquista until all of the Muslims were expelled from the Iberia.

No later Muslim attempts against Asturias or the Franks was made as conflict between what remained of the Umayyad Dynasty, (which was the Umayyad Emirate and then Caliphate of Iberia) and the Abbasid Caliphate in Baghdad prevented a unified assault on Europe. It would be another 700 years before the Ottomans managed to invade Europe via the Balkans.”

This is an example of the comprehensive study of a historical battle as Winston Churchill must have studied all the pivotal battles that interested him and after thoroughly studying that one ancient Battle of Poitiers that was eternally to be remembered as the pivotal battle that allowed Western Civilization to continue, by remaining free of the barbaric Occult Islamic doctrine of savagery, subjugation, and slavery. And by allowing Europe to start coming out of the Dark Ages, and the total obedience to theocracy as was dictated and is still dictated by Muslim faith and by the contemporary Caliphate of ISIS.

The study of these subjects in detail gave Winston his foundational knowledge of why Christian Civilization trumps the occult Islamic barbarism and that is is exactly why Churchill had enough of Islam and it’s constant bend to barbarity. After studying the effects of that faith, on the Human race, he had developed a strong dislike, and a serious distaste for that barbaric cult, that came to last him a whole lifetime, because from then on, Churchill described Islam as having an effect similar to what “rabies” causes to the brains of infected dogs. This is what this virulent cult causes when it enters the minds of men. He turns their brain to mush. Winston recalled this saying always, and he repeated it often, especially when as a young officer, had to fight the forces of the crazy “Mahdi” in Sudan or the militant Islamic Pashtuns in the Northwest frontier of India where today’s Afghanistan — the graveyard of the Empires — is located.

Still, it is important today to remember that the Caliphate started back then, and yet today we are still dealing with it, in a resurgent form long after the last Caliph abdicated along with the dissolution of the Ottoman empire after having given plenty of suffering to all enslaved people under their command.  We are faced with the same crossroads, and if we ever want to remove the threat of the modern Caliphate enslaving the people once again — we should strike at the root of it, because the rise of the Islamic State beyond the borders of Syria and Iraq, over the past few years can easily draw comparison with the rapid spread of the Islamic Caliphate between the sixth and the eighth century and beyond in the 14th and 15th century as well.

Yet in a very Churchillian and strategic way of thinking — the Caliphate of ISIS today, presents us with an opportunity to improve and innovate on the ways and tactics we can deal with a virulent ideological enemy, because ISIS has also pitted the standard Army Generals and the proponents of kinetic realpolitik seeking military defeat of the inimical extremist group, against the far fewer supporters of the correct notion that jihadism poses primarily an ideological threat, and needs to be dealt intelligently through Psych-Ops and Education of the people via the forced and admired Reformation of Islam to a new peaceful religion.

And although we all know that the longevity of Islam is because of it’s ideational value — yet both schools of Strategic Thought on how to defeat militant Islam, still debate the violent nature of the threat, and contemplate only the use of Military Means as Ways to neutralize its military threat. Methinks that when you only have a hammer… you see every problem as a nail.

So we are still doing this, nailing our ideological opponents — many centuries after Charles  Martel, “the Hammer” won the Battle of Poitiers, although we already have discovered that rather than putting all of our eggs in the basket of military solutions, we ought to also focus on what has sparked the current menace of violence and darkness. And on what has been that virulent serpent’s egg that is germinating and mushrooming over decades in our lands. Because in my mind it should be the root causes that ought to loom large in the context of our competing visions of how ISIS can be defeated or how it can be successfully confronted; and methinks that the best way is to neutralize the Islamic Caliphate fully and securely in the ideological propaganda wars, before we snuff them out in the battlefield of honor and blood.

Yet, instead of engaging in this ideational debate and reforming Islam starting by taking over the mosques in America and Europe and teaching a form of reformed, restored, and peaceful Islam — instead of allowing Saudi Arabia the emanator of 9/11 and many other disasters to continue it’s mosque busing program across the United States and the spread of virulent militant Islamic Wahabbism.

It is high time for Islam to experience it’s own Protestant Reformation and this become a civilized religion that can co-exist with Western Thought and Liberal Democratic ideas. And since the Islamic leaders would never do that in a million years, it has to be a State Effort looking at the long future that has to become the common-place Restoration and Reformation of this errant religion.

 

 

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Much like the Roman Emperor of Byzantium Constantin who sought to integrate the Christian faith under the religious wing of his administration, as he sought to unify and streamline the first Christian Churches under the Council of Nicea, that he convened in 325 AD, and through the first mass production of the Bible — we also need today to take decisive action and foster similar steps in order to regulate the virulently extremist religion of today that threatens the World and divides and terrorizes the various Peoples and individual people through recurring and constant acts of terror, bloody wars, and constant conflagration.

 

 

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The Byzantine Emperor Constantine 280-337 AD, at the opening of the Council of Nicea, sought Peace as he explained to the assembled Bishops and the Elders of the Christian Churches of his day. And they agreed that for the benefit of all — Peace was an essential ingredient for the common safety and prosperity of the Empire and the peoples. To that end he not only delivered the opening address, and set the tone of the conference, but he also gave very clear direction about what he expected from the assembled bishops of the early Christian churches, by explaining that the doctrine and policy of the state and of the Roman Empire, was not up for re-evaluation or reconsideration, but rather that the new church had to unify and adhere to the principles of the State and thus adjust itself and it’s aims accordingly.

 

 

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That is why the Roman Emperor Constantine convened and presided over this pivotal First Nicean Christian conference, in order to enforce his will and the interests of the State, to preside over a peaceful and large Empire made up of different Peoples, many nations, and people following differing religious beliefs. To this end he apparently succeeded in both of his main tasks masterfully.

 

 

 

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Similarly to Constantin ordering the first mass production of Christian Bibles in 325, the King James bible was readied at the behest of the King James of England, in 604 when he sought to create a sense of compatibility of the various protestant, papist, puritan, and reformation movements existing in his country. He went one further than Emperor Constantin by calling his translation of the bible the King James Bible instead of the commonly held name of the Christian Bible as the Old and the New Testament. This way he gave his stamp of approval and the stamp of his language to the New Bible and in that way he furthered the reach of the English language into all the corners of the world through the standardization of the Christian faith book.

History rewarded him greatly because in retrospect this was the greatest cultural and civilizing achievement that the advent of the British Empire enabled to reach all the corners of the Earth, and thus in turn made English the ‘Lingua Franca’ of the World.  The King James Bible, and the works of William Shakespeare, that exist in every library across the world today — have accomplished this singular feat, and along with the help of Constantin, Charles Martel, and Winston Churchill — they all together defeated the forces of darkness over the long haul.

That is why today, we all speak English, instead of Arabic, or some high pitched ‘Heil Hitler’ Germanic dialect…

 

 

 

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King James the First, ordered the Hampton conference and the resultant comprehensive simplified Bible to be produced, in order to help common people align themselves more fully with the Crown and with the Church of England, that James always considered a stabilizing influence for the realm he was leading. Having come from Scotland and having seen the vagaries caused by the various warring protestants, he sought to unify and pacify the various strong religious voices. James comes to the English throne, as James the First, and prepares to receive the Crown, amidst strong stirrings of religious discontent that had caused him grave concerns. Elizabeth died on March 24, 1603, after ruling for 45 years. James received word of his cousin Elizabeth’s death, and his appointment to the throne, and on April 5, he began his journey from Edinburgh to London for his coronation.

 

 

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The newly emboldened King James’ journey towards the South to London, was marked by an important interruption, when a delegation of Puritans presented James with a petition that outlined their grievances and the reforms they desired from the Church. The document came to be known as the Millenary Petition, and had over 1,000 clergy signatures, representing about ten percent of England’s clergy. This petition was the catalyst for the Hampton Court Conference. From the beginning the petition sought to allay suspicions regarding loyalty to the crown. It treated four areas: church service, church ministers, church livings and maintenance, and church discipline. It also set forth objections that perhaps sound rather frivolous to us today, but were serious matters to the Puritans. Among the things they objected to were the use of the wedding ring, the sign of the cross and the wearing of certain liturgical clothing. However, the Millenary Petition contains no mention at all of a new Bible translation.

 

 

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James took the petition seriously enough to call for a conference. In a royal proclamation in October 1603, the new king announced the Conference of All Christian leaders, to take place at the Hampton Court Palace, a luxurious 1,000-room palatial estate just outside of London, built by Cardinal Wolsey, the chief Advisor to King Henry VIII, who had indeed started the Church of England, that the new king was tasked to chart a new course, in order to serve the Security of the State, and the Safety of its many and varied Peoples.
The participants in the conference were the King, his Privy Council of advisors, nine bishops and several deans. There were also four moderate representatives of the Puritan cause, the most prominent being Dr John Reynolds, head of Corpus Christi College. It was clear the deck was stacked against the Puritans, but at least they were given a voice.
King James set the tone and timbre of the Conference by presiding above all the factions in a solemn manner.
Like Emperor Constantine of the Eastern Holy Roman Empire had spoken at the opening of the ‘Council of Nicea’ three hundred years earlier – it was here that King James also delivered the opening address to the assembled “Greats” at the Hampton Conference. King James immediately set the tone and gave clear cues of what to expect, by stating that the doctrine and polity of the state church, was not up for evaluation and reconsideration. King James immediately proceeded to state bluntly that he found a great deal of security in the structure and hierarchy of the English church, in contrast to the Presbyterian model, he had witnessed in Scotland. And of course he made no effort to hide his previous frustration as he had experienced with the Presbyterians and the Puritans in his old home In Edinburgh as King of Scotland.
The Puritans were not allowed to attend the first day of the conference. On the second day, four Puritans were also allowed to join the Conference. Dr John Reynolds took the lead on their behalf and raised the question of church government. However, any chance of his being heard was lost by one inopportune and, no doubt, unintended reference.
He asked if a more collegial approach to church administration might be in order. In other words, “Let’s broaden the decision-making base.” Dr Reynolds posed his question this way: “Why shouldn’t the bishops govern jointly with a ‘presbyterie’ of their brethren, the pastors and the ministers of the Church?”
Yet the very word ‘Presbyterie’ was like waving a red flag before a bull, and the king exploded. His reply is recorded as such: “If you aim at a Scots ‘Presbyterie’ it agreeth as well with monarchy, as God and the devil! Then Jack, and Tom, and Will, and Dick shall meet and censure me and my council.”

He then uttered what can be considered his defining motto and summarizes his belief system, as he put an end to the presbyterian aspirations by crying rather bluntly: “No bishop — no King!”

At this point, the King also warned Dr Reynolds: “If this be all your party hath to say, I will make them conform themselves, or else I will harrie them out of the land, or else do worse!”

Yet while Dr Reynolds’ unfortunate use of the term ‘presbyterie’ damaged the Puritan case, he does get credit for proposing the most significant achievement of the conference. Reynolds “moved his Majesty that there might be a new translation of the Bible, because those which were allowed in the reign of King Henry VIII and King Edward VI were corrupt and not answerable to the truth of the original.”

Thereafter, King James the First, warmed towards the need for a new translation of the Bible, because he despised the then popular and corrupted ‘Geneva Bible.’ Indeed King James, was bothered more by the ‘Geneva Bible’ for it’s revolutionary marginal notes, than by the actual quality of the translation.
So James ordered a new translation. It was to be accurate and true to the originals. He appointed fifty of the nation’s finest language scholars and approved rules for carefully checking the results.
James also wanted a popular translation. He insisted that the translation use old familiar terms and names and be readable in the English idiom of his day, by simply saying: “Get to Work!”

Similarly to Emperor Constantin and King James’ visionary actions towards unification and pacification, today we need to convene another Conference to secularize Islam and the Muslim faith, and make it applicable for the New Millennium and not allow it to further disrupt our lives, by becoming a singular force for Evil, by driving its people towards the darkest of the dark ages of the past millenniums.

To that end we need to speak with one voice, and demand to create the ‘proper setting’ that addresses the common-sense idea that a stabilizing influence is needed through the  reformation of Islam. Because only a reformed Islam that is in obedience to the State laws and to our Constitution, can exist in these shores. And to that end we need to tackle the root causes of Islamic fundamentalism in that fairly barbaric cult ideology, that makes ISIS, the most brutal insurgent group in recent history. And we need to act fast because the simplicity of this barbaric cult and it’s ideological hatred of everything else, is what makes the crazy Islamic Caliphate attractive to millions of disaffected youth across the globe, and in our neighborhoods.

 

 

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We ought to organize the first Islamic Reformation Conference and to that end we are all working to achieve this in these United States of America. Let’s nail the proposal for the reformation of Islam towards a moderate and normal Islam upon all the doors of the mosques in America  and Europe, and the rest of the world will follow soonest. Think of course in terms of centuries and not in years and electoral seasons. This is an effort at cathedral building and not at achieving quarterly results…

Yet today, in our PC world, translating that notion into policy, and finding a Sovereign leader who can institutionalize this policy for the long term — is proving difficult, if not outright impossible, primarily because the solid returns of this policy are steeped into the far off future. But it proves to be a difficult policy because it is based on a ‘Common sense truth’ that has a far-reaching impact on the International Community and World Affairs — irrespective of how close or how far its nation members are, from the ISIS Caliphate’s current borders, and how much their citizens might suffer from the terrorism that the Caliphate has inflicted upon them. Different strokes, for different folks, and for different nations, makes it impossible to coalesce all of them in a clear policy for Islamic reformation, therefore a singular leader has to lead and take over this Historically pivotal task.

 

 

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Yet this reformation of Islam that is necessary in order to tame it, and thus make it civilized and normal, is a giant undertaking. But only then will we find that Islam can become a stabilizing factor in the world. To do this, it involves changing our long-standing, ingrained policies, both at home and abroad. We simply ned to rethink, the mindset and the policies that marginalize, exclude, and stigmatize, the segments of society we do not like, or those who don’t think like us. We truly need to emphasize that perceived as increased security the assault against liberty, freedoms, and debate, is not productive. We also need to learn that striving to be politically correct is tantamount to living under a dictatorship or maybe like living in an autocratic state. It is the same as being a subject of these dictatorial puppet regimes, that are propped-up by the Western powers for the singular purpose of producing oil and gas.

To solve militant Islam, we need to stop the regional despots from reducing their citizens to obedient subjects through harsh repression, and through the attenuation of religious belief to suit the interests of dystopian rulers, as we do in Saudi Arabia and all the other Gulf Cooperation Council countries, but instead we must foster radical Social and Libertarian Democratizing reforms towards both the religious and the secular leadership of these marginalized states, in order for their people to look forth towards a hopeful future. Only then these Islamic agent states will stop exporting Terrorism and join the league of normal states that exist in peace and harmony with the rest of the World, fostering progress and prosperity for all.

 

 

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Ultimately, ISIS has to be defeated not in its Syrian capital of Raqqa, or in Mosul, but in the dismal “banlieues” of the French big cities and in the ghettos of Brussels and other towns, that furnish ISIS with the largest contingent of European foreign fighters. We need to win the war against ISIS in the populous neighborhoods in Tunisia, that account for the single largest group of foreign fighters in Syria and Iraq. We also need to defeat them in Riyadh and Jedda, Saudi Arabia, whose citizens account for the second largest number of foreign fighters, and whose decades-long effort to propagate a rather militant, puritan, and intolerant, interpretation of Islam; has been a far more important breeding ground for jihadists who follow the writings of militant Islamist thinkers like Sayyid Qutb. We need to defeat ISIS in the ghettos of all the European cities, but most importantly we need to defeat ISIS in the corridors of Power in Washington, and in Brussels; same as we need to do in all the Western capitals, like London, Berlin, and Paris, and in all the NATO alliance cities led by Washington and her State department and the Generals, who view retrograde, repressive regimes like those of Saudi Arabia, and Egypt as part of the solution, rather than the biggest part of the problem — they truly are.

For me and for all thinkers of today, focusing on root causes means broadening scholarly and policy debate to concentrate not only on what amounts to applying Band-Aid solutions that fail to heal the festering open wounds, but also to question assumptions made by the various schools of thought on how to solve the problem. And methinks that at the heart of it rests the need for a Restoration of Islam today.

 

 

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The facts on the ground have already convincingly contradicted the notion that ISIS will be quickly defeated through a straight forward military campaign. Several years into military efforts, air strikes, predator drones, and commando raids, have failed to put a serious dent in ISIS’s universal appeal or on the amount of territory it controls. Today the combined Iraqi regular and irregular forces, along with the Kurds, and the NATO support, have been unable to shift the balance of power on the battlefield, and it is notable that no other member of the 60-nation coalition assembled by the US has been willing to deploy a ground force that potentially could defeat the jihadist group. Even the Russian forces are supporting their Syrian ally with Air Force cover only, but without any army boots or personnel of any kind on the ground.

 

 

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Now for the sake of argument, let’s assume that we can wipe out today’s ISIS Caliphate from the map with straight forward Military means. In the world of General Mattis and President Trump cooperating with allies and enemies alike and making deals with the local warlords, maybe such a scenario is possible. Yet, even such a hypothetical defeat of ISIS, would not solve the basic root problem. After 9/11, the Osama Bin Laden organization of Al Qaeda was degraded, [we use here the language of the Obama administration], yet it was never defeated. Instead of reducing the threat of political violence, it produced ever more virulent forms of it, embodied by ISIS. So much so that today it may be hard to imagine anything more brutal than ISIS, but it is a fair assumption that defeat of the group without tackling the root causes would only lead to something that is even more virulent, violent, and vicious, and that is hard to imagine even for a seasoned person who has seen his XL share of horrors human beings can inflict upon each other.

 

 

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There is much to be said for the notion of containment rather than defeat of ISIS; in other words, the belief that over time the extremist group would be forced to adapt its expansionist ambitions and brutal tactics as reality kicks in and the responsibility of government forces it to come to some kind of accommodation with the international community. Containment addresses the immediate problem but ignores factors that fuel radicalization far from the warring state’s borders and make jihadism attractive to the disaffected across the globe.

 

 

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Similarly, the notion that the very existence of ISIS poses a greater threat to regional stability and security in the Middle East and North Africa than conventional or unconventional military power, only serves to elevate jihadism, — this violent establishment of pan-Islamic rule — to the status of a root cause, rather than a symptom, and an expression of a greater and more complex problem.

 

 

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Moreover, the ideological challenge posed by ISIS despite its discriminatory, exclusionary, narrow-minded interpretation of Islam, is primarily its equally problematic readings of the faith. ISIS shares some puritan concepts with Saudi Arabia’s Wahhabism, but rejects notions of monarchic rule and a clergy that uses puritanism, to bolster the power of an autocratic family. It is worth noting that the ISIS Caliphate also contradicts Iran’s concept of the “Welayat-al-faqih” the Guardianship of the Islamic Jurists. Its model of governance flat out opposes the Muslim Brotherhood’s precepts, and their ideas as propagated by Egypt, and the United Arab Emirates, support of an Islam that first and foremost prescribes absolute obedience to a ruler…

 

 

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In other words, the ideological debate waged in the Muslim world is to a large extent dominated by schools of thought that do not advocate more open, liberal and pluralistic interpretations of Islam, but instead look at going back further into the Dark Ages of Barbarism and Resolute Ignorance. That is where the real challenge lies. The international community ought to give more liberal Muslim voices significant credibility by creating the First Conference for the Reformation of Islam. This is where Trump can be useful and helpful to the whole World if his Administration where to put its money where its mouth is.

 

 

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This effort towards the birth of an American and a European tolerant and peaceful Islamic faith, that it places itself in concert with the Constitution and the Liberties and Democratic privileges, that our countries enjoy and believe into.

 

 

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Only an Islamic Reformation will lead Islam to a humanizing future and help all of us toward peace with this virulently Barbaric cultish faith that cries out for radical reform just n order to catch up with it’s Abrahamic faith brethren with whom it shares the Jewish Old Testament, and even parts of the New Testament too. So now as we move resolutely inside the second Millennium AD we best help Islam and our Muslim brothers and sisters transcend to the present time, instead of allowing their leaders to keep driving them back towards the Dark Ages of bloody mayhem, and ignorance.

This has to be the Number One priority of our modern Foreign Affairs Diplomacy, and even Domestic Policy — in order to solve the problem the militant jihadist Islam represents for all of us today, as it did in the time of Charles Martel, that led to the battle of Poitiers in 732 AD.

Today’s US President Donald Trump that in some critical ways resembles Charles Martel — at the very least he has the “Hammer” and he ought to use it by offering a Conference for a Non-Violent and Civilized or Reformed Islam starting from right here in the United States. And of course he has a pallet of policy options, that take a stab at reforming, restoring, and liberalizing Islam, and thus rooting out the problem and its underlying causes, rather than confining himself and the solutions to the military generals, the self-serving Arab regimes, and the various religious Theocratic or Secular pseudo-Islamic leaders.

We need to pay attention and start acting quickly here, largely because some of those who emphasize ISIS’s ideational challenges to the World; also warned us that jihadism, very like the concepts of Umma, Arabism, and Arab nationalism, that were all very popular in the past — could provoke conflict not only with the West but also between the many dissatisfied Arab states, as we se today with the exclusion of Quatar from the Arab league. Reality on the ground has put that notion to rest. ISIS, with its territorial base, coupled with multiple other factors, has demonstrated the fragility of existing Arab nation states and likely condemned to dustbins of history notions of Syria, and Iraq, as the nation states, the world has known since the end of colonial rule, and the drafting of their borders largely under the influence of Winston Churchill and his contemporaries.

 

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By the same token, reducing the significance of recent attacks on mosques and tourist sites by ISIS fellow travelers in Tunisia, Kuwait, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia‎ to challenges to the political legitimacy and authority of those states, is to fail to recognize that ISIS fundamentally feeds on the failures of those regimes, same as it feeds on the failures of Western regimes when we see the explosions of suicide bombers and other terrorists in our capital cities and in our neighborhoods. These attacks on London, Edinburgh, Berlin, Brussels, Paris, include the failure to provide our youth with social and economic opportunity, and to adopt policies that are inclusionary not exclusionary, pluralistic not discriminatory, and encourage participation in political debates and processes, rather than cutting off all avenues for the expression of discontent.

Therein lies the root causes of the jihadism threatening the international community. We need more freedoms and not less, and we need to work smarter, not harder. Same as we need to imagine new solutions by thinking creatively and not just like a hammer that sees all problems as nails that need to be hammered in. May Charles “Martel” the “Hammer” rest in peace — we don’t need only that kind of hammering today… but we need ideological Supremacy if we are to avoid another Battle of Poitiers tomorrow.

Capice?

Yet Winston Churchill, also studied in passing, the other Battle of Poitiers — the one that took place between the English and the French in 1356, and here is where he skimmed and moved on, to the latest historical and military strategy views on the Napoleonic wars, and their important battles.

Of course, Winston Churchill, while in Sandhurst, also studied meticulously the American Civil War battles, and his hero Abraham Lincoln whom his lovely American Mother Jennie, and her father, Winston’s grandfather Leonard Jerome, loved beyond compare. Yet he also studied, the Russo-Turkish War, and the Franco-German War, in sufficient detail; in order to complete his strategy and tactics battle education, and his European Theater of Wars learnings.

Still for his daily regiment, horseback races, point to point, and steeple chasing, were his greatest pleasure. Besides the daily instruction he received at the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst — he elected to take an additional course during his vacation and holiday times — with the Royal Horse Guards. That’s where he spent all of his money: Hiring quality horses, and organizing the best point-to-point races and most dangerous steeplechases.

Finally Winston Churchill was in his element. Yet, he still retained a lively if not subdued interest in the politics of the day — at least where his father’s political party and political affiliations were concerned. On that front, things were not going well for the Churchill name, because Randolph towards the end had specialized in burnt all bridges…

 

 

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Yet at this otherwise dark political time for his family, it was when Winston Churchill managed to make his first ever public speech during his next to last term at the Royal Sandhurst Military Academy. Because that is when Winston was roused to Anger at the major Indignation directed against so e lady friends of his, and thus made his first public speech in their defense. This is a somber story and yet something that all Historians writing about Churchill, have glossed over it, because it appears to not be an important political speech, nor a pivotal episode  Winston’s life. Yet I disagree and consider this a remarkable example of his genuine faith in Humanity and of his Libertarian politics, but above all else, it is e clear reminder of Winston Churchill, where the puerile, the pure, and the pertinent, are intermingled and therefore it is time to tell all, because the circumstances of his losing his Oratorial Virginity, in this Speech; were both unusual and comedic. Both at the same time, since he meant to speak up in order to save some Damsels in distress. Except that these particular damsels didn’t need much saving, because they were managing rather well on their own — Thank You very much.

 

 

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But to put the story to rights: Back in the summer of 1894 a certain Mrs Ormiston Chant, launched a “Purity Campaign” which received much publicity. The chief object of her attention was the promenade of the “Empire Theatre,” which was a large space behind the dress circle with a massive lounge containing several bars, that were usually filled with willing men, and somewhat professional debutante and all too willing ladies, that do not ‘protest too much.’ Now since the Empire Theatre promenade was a favourite place for all the cadets of the Sandhurst Academy who came out to see the plays, have a few drinks, and lose their virginity, with the ‘easy girls’ of the Empire promenade. Many of them were naturally indignant at Mrs Chant’s ‘unproven’ allegations of general debauchery, carnal relations, biblical rows, insobriety, and immorality, being pervasive at the Empire promenade. But they were also especially incensed, at the possibility that the whole thing could be shuttered, because of the blasted “Purity Campaign.”

 

 

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Thus the Sandhurst cadets reasoned that they would lose their chief source of amusement, and outside education, if not their outright edification of becoming “Men” and the sex lessons given fairly freely from the all too willing and unprotesting ladies. Now we all are aware that these ‘arangements’ have existed since the dawn of professions, or the dawn of time. But the Empire promenade was the favorite place to lose one’s virginity, with the ladies sharing their charms there, in a perpetual state of questionable purity. Even the newspaper of record, “The Daily Telegraph” got into the action when they ran an article against the Puritanical lady Mrs Ormiston Chant, titled: ‘Prudes on the Prowl’ and thus the war between Prudes, and Libertines got started in earnest. Naturally for young Winston Churchill, the battle was on spectacularly because this is where he lost his virginity and he was a loyal sort of chap — so he thought to defend the ladies and the lads. So just like any good lad, he got on his high horse, and started railing informally against the forces wanting to deprive young men and women, of their Liberty to cavort freely, and enjoy drunken sex, in Honor of the Empire…

The stakes could not have been higher. Winston had already decided that this Refusal of Liberty should not stand, because “Drunken Sex” is an ancient time-honored British tradition that most people experience not only at home, but also abroad in the Empire, during their Vacation & Holiday times all around the British Empire, where the sun never sets. And as such it needs to be preserved as any other sport and manly avocation for eternity. He said that we should save the service industry of the ladies of the Empire promenade “lest everybody lapses to some kind of faggotry” as Winston was keen to remind all listeners…

 

 

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So Winston followed the controversy with immense interest, and one day read in the paper that a certain gentleman was proposing to form a League of Citizens under the name ‘The Entertainments Protection League’ and was calling on all interested people to come forward and help form committees. Winston was most enthusiastic in joining the battle and he was splendidly prepared to deliver his bombastic artillery piece of a great Speech in support of the ‘fallen’ women, those beautiful and mysterious Ladies of the Empire…

 

 

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To that end, he immediately responded at once to the advertisement, and wrote to the founder of “The Entertainments Protection League” saying that he would travel forth to London for the first meeting of the League, if he were allowed to offer a speech in support of the ‘Entertainments Protection League’ and of the Empire. He then sat down and composed a speech, dealing with the rights of the individual, which he learned by heart. On the appointed day he travelled to London with the good wishes of his colleagues. He was surprised to find the hotel small and dingy. But he was even more surprised to find only one person waiting there, the founder of ‘The Entertainments Protection League.’  At this momentous occassion, the Founder sadly admitted that save for the young Cadet Winston Churchill, there had been no other response to his eloquent plea to ‘Save the Empire.” Winston was crushed, and with the papers of his speech firmly ensconced in his breast pocket, he swallowed his pride, if not his disappointment, and returned to the Sandhurst, pawning his gold watch on the way, just to pay for his dinner. Apparently at this moment of his life, logistics were not a subject he excelled upon, but the defense of women and general feminism, was always uppermost in his mind…

Yet this was not to be the end of ‘The Entertainments Protection League’ story, nor the end of Winston’s continued efforts at women’s suffrage. And in a spectacular show of camaraderie, Winston and his friends attended the “Empire promenade” frequently and at one point, they were disturbed to see that “fences and screens” had been erected, and being placed all around the bars, the pubs, and the brothels – in order to shield them from the innocent promenading public eyes, and also in order to obscure the vision of the less innocent connoisseurs, like himself and the other cadet, the lads, the cads, and the assorted virile menfolk.

According to Winston, this thieving of the People’s Liberty, was not going to stand, be cause it was an entirely inimical action, and Churchill’s back was stiffened, and his ire was surreptitiously raised, against that dastardly injurious act for the public morale. And that is the point where he started to feel his angst rising and thus he took the leading role as the Rogue Star, of the infamous “Battle of the Tarts” where he acted by tipping over one of the aforementioned “Purity” screens with his cane, as another cadet pushed another erected screen, and a third cadet kicked more screens inwards. In the usual Winston way — he was leading his men from the front, and they brought about a swift and unhesitating destruction of the puerile censorship, by demolishing all the Purity erections, screens, and mechanical devises in a few minutes. This gambit was well organized and the lads came away swinging as Winston started priming the pump, and after a moment’s hesitation, the melee became a generalized jumble, and suddenly there were more than a few hundred young people rushing to destroy all the purity screens, and the propriety fences. Winston Churchill was the most conspicuous among these valiant Defenders of Liberty, and at the height of the excitement here was Churchill after embracing a prostitute, and promising her undying affection, he leapt-up onto a tall chair, and delivered his speech, in a most heated style of oratory, as conveyed to us today by none other than a participant in the infamous and unscripted morality play as seen playing that evening at  the Empire promenade, and presented by none other that Winston Churchill the miraculous Cavalry cadet…

 

 

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Indeed not only this was Winston’s maiden speech, but it was especially hot stuff, because he had to impress not only his fellow cadets, but the ‘tarts’ and the ‘easy girls’ all arrayed to listen to their young and victorious Liberator. The young Liberator who fought on their behalf against the tyranny of the savage Puritans who wanted to install a Theocracy no less. Here is where Winston found out that he could harness the power of his Soul and the Righteousness of his Cause, and therefore his rhetoric was no longer the cold, reasoned, and prepared constitutional effort, that he had constructed so many weeks prior to this opportune moment.

This speech was from the heart.

And indeed it was a ‘panegyric’ and a singularly Churchillian overture, to the Gods of Liberty and Life, and a Pean to the Rights of men to live Free amongst Free people and to arrange their Love and Sex lives at will. In this instance Winston, spoke from the cuff, without any written notes, and yet his remarks were ebullient, and took the people way over the top, through his stentorian voice, his audacious and loquacious humour, and his unquestionable enthusiasm for the subject at hand. He was indeed overheated, and overbearing, and was way over the top, but he offered a rather rousing speech, on behalf of the Ladies of the Empire and even Lady Liberty, and his speech was fairly well shouted, to be heard above the tumult of the confrontation going on at his feet.

This infamous first speech must have broken some kind of record because he was shouting, in order to be heard above the cacophony of sounds coming up from the ebullient and celebratory groups of the carousing young fighters, already steadying themselves with fresh pints of various ales, and whiskeys, having started to comfort the ladies of the Empire, while wearing freshly installed grins, like those of the Cheshire cat that ate the canary, all decked out in their best dress uniforms.

If all wars and victorious battles are anything like that – please sing me up forever….

 

 

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Luckily Winston’s maiden oration, escaped the notice of the English newspapers, and of the London press in general — yet fortunately for us, an American author named Richard Harding Davis, who had met Churchill in London, was given a version of the long and eloquent speech by Winston as delivered to his fellow officers, and to the scantily dressed and demure ladies of the Empire promenade. And thus this amazing speech to launch a thousand cadets into the arms of the Ladies, got preserved for eternity, and here is the poetical portion of it that is what we can safely publish without injuring anyone’s reputation and good sense of humour…

“Churchill cried in a loud booming voice when the fellows were all around him:

‘Where does the Englishman in London always find a welcome?’

‘Where does he first go when, battle-scarred and travel-worn, he reaches home?

‘Who is always there to greet him with a smile and join him with a drink?’

‘Who is ever faithful, ever true?’

‘The ladies of the Empire Promenade.”’

Although this incident was apparently not brought to the attention of the London Society, Winston’s battle was won in a triumphant manner. Thereafter the wreckage of the screens was disassembled and permanently removed from the Empire Promenade and the Ladies of the Empire were once again allowed to cavort liberally, with the Victorious defenders of all that represents “Truth & Beauty and the English Way.” And thus Winston Churchill earned his first stripes of Victory. He also celebrated this unique Victory, by visiting the grateful ladies of the Empire promenade, often and by retelling this slight “gauche” story again and again to the amusement of the gathered throngs. Still his strict commanding officer, neither punished him, nor mentioned anything to him, although the whole Sandhurst knew and celebrated the victorious military campaign against the tyrannical forces of Puritanism at the Empire promenade as if t was another victory against Napoleon. And although the ears of the London press were sufficiently pricked, amid much hilarity that ensued since the toppling of that “wall” and about Churchill’s defense of the Realm with his First Public Speech, this never came to print. And of course this exquisite story, never became an embarrassment for Winston Churchill whose need for sarcastic humour if anything caused him to regale this story often enough as he was always telling stories at the dinner table, and to celebrate always raising a glass to the ladies of the Empire… (wink-wink).

With this one battle won, there were many more of the same ilk, to follow. That is until Winston was persuaded to tone down his humour, and to become a serious warrior, and much later a serious Speaker as well…

He of course, did not listen to those voices often, but when he did — his speeches were serious, measured, and magnificent, as was the speech he offered on his father funeral, because on January 1895, two months ahead of Winston receiving the Queen’s Commissioning as a Cavalry Officer — Lord Randolph Churchill died. Indeed it was a severe blow to his son, but he always considered it a sort of Liberation for his “Dad” who according to Winston, had suffered way too much adversity in his short and meteoric Life.

As for his family — things were a bit more complicated now, because although the disappointed statesman had been increasingly ill in the past few years, through this syphilitic meningitis, the family still clung doggedly to the hope that he would somehow recover, although the disease was largely incurable at this time. Still Winston hoped that Randolph’s health and his political position could be rescued and he made an effort to reform both — if not i real life, at least in print, as he had started keeping notes for writing Randolph’s history the way he would have liked it to be. It was all in vain, because Winston was still awaiting the day when his father would accept him, if not as an equal, at least as a prized son. Sadly that day would never come. Still, during Winston’s first two years at Royal Academy at Sandhurst — Lord Randolph had occasionally taken him to dinners, and week-end parties, and thus Winston was confident that they were moving toward a closer understanding. But Lord Randolph never really dropped his mask. This is how Winston describes the relationship with his father in his proud biographical book about him: “If ever I began to show the slightest idea of comradeship, he was immediately offended, and when once I suggested that I might help his private secretary to write some letters, he froze me into stone.”

Winston wrote the words above many years later, and the fact that he membered this quote verbatim, is a sure sign of the hurt he had received from Randolphs purposefully errant behavior. And yet in his mind young Winston already cultivated in his minds eyes, the Empire of the Mind, that he wanted to construct for himself, now that he was free and unfettered to define himself.

 

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It appears, that Lord Randolph knew his son so little, that it never even crossed his mind that Winston even toyed with the idea of entering politics. Certainly it never entered his head as a feasible proposition. Politics were expensive in those days and the Members of the British Parliament were unpaid. Besides that, Randolph could not even pretend to himself, that this boy Winston was clever. He actually knew this “boy” so little, that he thought him stupid. This is on the record, because some months prior to this, he had written a long letter to a friend of his in South Africa, asking him if there were any prospects in the Colonies for his son — because he did not feel that Wilson was likely to make his way alone in old England.

It appears that he was somehow a bot of the mark, and surely mistaken, if we see the career of his son Winston who was just twenty years old, when Lord Randolph Churchill died, and who at once assumed his role as head of the family, and embraced his responsibilities as few other young men of his age and standing ever would. Indeed a strange sense of urgency occupied Winston from there onwards. And as some Churchill relatives remember Winston at the funeral, being officious, self-possessed, and quite capable of handling the many family requests, the disposition of guests, and the care for the friendly visitors who participated in this memorial to his family father. They vividly remember the hundreds of telegrams that poured-in, and seeing Winston reading each one carefully and then impaling it dramatically on a metal spike for safekeeping and with all of them impaled on the pike, he was making a dramatic foot long tower of paper telegrams proving the popularity of Sir Randolph, and also the mountain of telegraphic correspondence that he had to duly reply to. It must have dawned on Winston that right about now — a private secretary must indeed be rather useful to assist with the necessary replies for this mountainous task.

And although he was in control of the family from then on — the young man’s future was now a large question mark, because Lord Randolph Churchill, apparently had left his two sons with no money inheritance whatsoever…

So how could Winston continue his sporting lifestyle?

And how could he afford his Officer’s commission?

Or how he could even afford his polo ponies?

 

 

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Apparently Randolph Churchill’s estate was just large enough to settle his sizable debts, and thereafter Lady Jennie Churchill, Winston’s Mother told the boys that there was nothing left over for her sons and family, except what she had scrounged over all her wedded years, and her personal jewelry collection…

Now that places Winston at a disadvantage, because one must understand that in the Victorian times that Churchill was living into at the time — this was a severe handicap for a member of the ruling class, since without money the road to politics and the court, was completely barred.

Even to continue attending the Sandhurst Military Academy, it was necessary to have money as a cavalry officer, in order to pay for most things, including all of his ‘horse duties’ and the rest of his equestrian expenses.

 

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To this end, and to primarily cover his equestrian costs as an Officer of the Cavalry, his mother Lady Jennie Jerome Churchill, gave Winston Churchill, an allowance of 500 pounds a year.

He accepted it gratefully with a determination to make himself financially independent as quickly as possible; and in order to accomplish that end — he started writing feverishly, while looking for publishers and newspapers that would accept his stories, and he also started defining the future of his Empire of the Mind.

Because he now had to become quickly a mature man, as it happens with all boys when they lose their father. Same as it came to be for Winston who set out to make something of himself, and maybe along the way put his dent in the universe.

He reckoned that history waited long enough for his arrival…

To be continued…

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | June 6, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 21)

THE IRISH DILEMMA 

As we saw, Winston Churchill’s earliest memories are of Ireland and Dublin.

We also now know the real reason why he had to leave merry old England, before he was even two years old.

We have seen that his father had a monumental row and serious quarrel with the Prince of Wales and future King Edward VII, so that his grandfather had to accept the offered position of ViceRoy of Ireland.

Randolph had to also accept the position of his father’s secretary, because the previously agreed upon ‘Arrangement’ of covering up for the Princely Concubine and protecting the ‘Royal Bastards’ in a nice warm and cozy, family environment, did not suit his tastes anymore, or did not satisfy Randolph’s financial interests any longer, and he threatened the Prince with the publication and exposure of some of his correspondence and personal letters about this matter.

 

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It was then that wiser heads prevailed, and Winston Churchill’s Grandfather ‘The Duke of Marlborough’ immediately stepped into the breach of decorum, and dragged his son Randolph to Dublin. Of course his son’s new bride and fresh grandson, had to come along, as the whole family fled the famed Victorian Royal angst to emerald green Ireland. It turns out that in order to keep-up appearances, this family transfer was effected because this is where the Duke of Marlborough had ostensibly accepted the position of “Viceroy of Ireland.” The old Duke, did this in a haste, in order to remove his impulsive son Randolph, from the looming storm where he had invoked the serious wrath of the Crown, of Queen Victoria, of the Prince of Wales himself, and of the whole of the Court of St James, and indeed of the whole of the English Aristocracy, and London Society.

They were all arrayed against Randolph, because he was threatening the Prince with public humiliation. Indeed as you might be able to understand, exposing the Prince was not something done in the Victorian Era, or even at any time since then and even today.

 

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Although Winston Churchill left Dublin and Ireland before he was five, it was Dublin as a city that made a most vivid impression on his mind. He remembers the red-coated soldiers, the emerald grass, the mist and the rain, and the excited and sometimes whispered talk about ‘the wicked Fenians’ who were trying to terrorize the British administration. Once when he was riding a donkey led by his nurse, Mrs Everest, a group of soldiers appeared in the distance. There was a moment of panic as the nurse mistook them for Fenian terrorists; she spooked the donkey who in turn kicked and threw Winston to the ground, which resulted in a slight concussion of the brain for the young lad…

But life in the Vice Regal palace continued as usual with costume and fancy dress balls interrupted by occasional state visits and even more balls of there high society…

Fancy dress was the element that the Churchill’s thrived upon… since both Jennie and Randy, really loved to dress up, and party madly.

 

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On another occasion arrangements were made to take a group of children to the pantomime theatre. When Winston and his ‘woom’ Mrs Everest reached the Castle where they were to meet the others, people with long faces came out and said that the theatre had been burned down, and all that was left of the Manager, they added mournfully” “were the keys that were in his pocket.”

It was right then that Winston asked innocently, and yet eagerly:

“May I see the keys?”

Apparently his request, did not seem to have been well received by his hosts, and they shooed him away, without ever bothering to show him the “keys” in question. It was an unresolved mystery, as to why they were shy about showing him the deceased man’s keys. And at least this is how he describes his first theatre experience many years later when he wrote about it, and about his encounter with the indestructible keys of the Manager…

Winston had plenty of humor as a boy, but he could get away with a fair deal of cynical sarcasm because he looked the very picture of angelic innocence. And because he could contain his mirth and laughter so the unsuspecting victims of his zingers wouldn’t know this is happening.

And if you don’t believe he was an Angel, at least he looked like one…

Even the early pictures of Winston Churchill show a pug-nosed, but eerily determined little boy, with a mass of untidy curls, framed by the round sailor hat, that was so dear to the Victorian attitudes towards youth and the sea.

 

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Indeed Winston was red-headed, freckle-faced, and obstreperous red faced boy, and from the moment he learned to talk, he talked incessantly.

Indeed this one thing he did, and perhaps he did it amazingly well.

He talked…

He talked and talked…

And indeed he talked with an unbecoming for his age authoritarian voice, that he had probably emulated from his faux-dad. Randolph, whose stentorian voice boomed across the halls of Parliament, unequalled by anyone else’s volume.

 

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At this time, young Winston offered all his love, all his care, and all his confidence to his governess, Mrs Everest. Mrs Everest much like her namesake, was a towering peak of a woman, and a sweetheart in a large frame for any female. She always smiled and had a happy disposition internally and externally and she loved her small ‘charge’ abundantly. In good turn she was rewarded by an unswerving devotion which lasted until her death; because Winston loved her more than anyone else. That is until he met Clemmie, who was destined to become his wife. Yet all his early life this was Winston Churchill’s ‘Woom’ and none other, for very many years.

He did not see much of his parents. His father was engrossed in Irish politics and his mother caught up in a busy social life. Neither considered children a vocation, and, in the way of most aristocratic families at that time, regarded the nursery, like the kitchen, as necessary adjuncts to thewell-run household, but ones which should be hidden.

Winston admired his own mother from a distance, as if she were a beautiful, far-away evening star.

 

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She obviously had dazzling qualities because people admired her and even wrote lavish praises about her. This is how Jennie Churchill is described by Viscount D’Abernon who wrote of seeing her for the first time at a Dublin Viceroyal ceremonial occasion:

‘I have the clearest recollection of seeing Jennie for the first time’.

‘It was at the Viceregal Lodge at Dublin.’

‘She stood at one side to the left of the entrance.’

 

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‘The Viceroy was on a dais, at the farther end of the room, surrounded by a brilliant staff, but eyes were not turned on him or his consort, but on a dark, lithe figure, standing somewhat apart and appearing to be of another texture to those around her, radiant, translucent, intense.’

‘A diamond star in her hair, her favourite ornament its lustre dimmed by the flashing glory of her eyes. More of the panther than of the woman in her look, but with a cultivated intelligence unknown to the jungle. Her courage not less great than that of her husband fit mother for descendants of the great Duke. With all these attributes of brilliancy such kindliness and high spirits that she was universally popular.’

 

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Her desire to please, her delight in life, and the genuine wish that all should share her joyous faith in it, made her the center of a devoted circle.’

Winston was supremely happy until he was seven years old. His parents moved back to London after their three years in Ireland and he was given a large nursery equipped with all the things that a small boy likes best. He had a thousand tin soldiers, a magic lantern, and a real steam engine. Furthermore, when he was six his mother presented him with a brother, John, whom he regarded as a curious and amusing new toy, if not a fresh possession.

However all good things must come to an end because the following year, some serious adversity set in and disrupted Winston’s merry-go-round life. It was his mother that announced that the time had come for him to go to boarding school. She had selected an expensive, modern school near Ascot which specialized in preparing boys for Eton.

Yet young Winston, dreaded the idea of leaving behind his untrammelled existence under the care of Mrs Everest — and, as things turned out, his worst forebodings were amply fulfilled. Poor lad, he spent two miserable and horrible years at the St. James School, and indeed he hated every minute of these pair of ‘annus horribilis.’

His departure had an almost Dickensian flavour. He was only seven and until then had led a happy and sheltered life. He remembers the ride in the hansom cab with his mother, his growing apprehension, and finally the awful moment when goodbyes had been said and he was left alone with a stern, unbending headmaster. The latter led him to an empty classroom and told him to sit down and learn the First Declension of the Latin word for table, mensa. One can imagine the child’s sinking heart as he looked at
the strange, incomprehensible words. He did as he was bid and memorized them, but when the master returned, inquired boldly:

‘And what does “O-table” mean?’

‘Mensa, “O-table” is the vocative case. You use it in speaking to a table.’

‘But I never do,’ insisted young Winston.

‘If you are impertinent, you will be punished, and punished, let me tell
you, very severely.’ said the master angrily.

This was the beginning of a bad two years for the young and utterly too sarcastic for his age, Winston Churchill.

Discipline at St. James’s was rigidly strict and, according to Winston, the headmaster was cruel and perverted. Apparently the headmaster delighted in assembling the little boys in the library, singling out the culprits one by one and taking them into the next room where he beat them with his cane whip until they bled. The other boys were forced to sit silent and listen to the screams of their schoolmates, trying to keep the triple underwear and the newspapers they stuffed into their pants, from showing…

Of course rather soon, Winston rebelled.

He revolted because he was beaten often and freely, and with such a violence; that Winston declared: “Not even a reformatory school for young thugs, would tolerate such violence against children today.”

 

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Nevertheless young Winston refused to surrender. He refused to write the Latin verses which he declared he could not understand. He refused to curry favour. He refused to repent.

He stayed rebellious, till the bitter end.

He never submitted to the hated Authority figure. Once he even kicked the headmaster’s straw hat to pieces, which made him the hero of the school.

Winston nursed such a grievance against this wicked man, that for years afterwards he brooded on taking some hefty measure of revenge. He planned to return one day, denounce the Headmaster before all his pupils, then subject him to the same punishment he had inflicted on his helpless charges. At the age of nineteen he actually drove to Ascot, but when he reached his destination he found that the school had been abandoned long before, and the hated headmaster had disappeared.

Although Winston’s lion-hearted resistance soon became a legend at St. James school, the frequent corporal punishments, along with the cold baths he was assigned to take as a punishment, undermined his constitution, and his health suffered badly. After two years his family doctor advised Lady Jennie Churchill to remove Winston and take him to Brighton, where he would gain the benefit of sea air, more sun, and certainly far more freedom.

Jennie Churchill listened to the Doctor, and so Winston was soon removed to sunny Brighton on the south west coast. And it was here that his fortunes improved dramatically. Bright as Brighton was how he was soon to be described due to his sunny disposition after he started going to school in Brighton…

He was put under the care of two kind and elderly ladies who encouraged him to study the things he liked, such as English, history, French and poetry. He was also allowed to ride and swim and to read Rider Haggard’s thrilling books King Solomon’s Mines and Allan Quatermain. Other activities included a school paper called ‘The Critic’ in which he lost interest after the first number, and a production of Aladdin which was so ambitious and all encompassing with Winston Churchill as the Director, Producer, and Main Character — that it never saw the light of day…

Yet, at this moment, young Winston Churchill was happy once again, but in all fairness to the masters of St. James’s it must be said that his new freedom, did not bring about any magic change in him as far as obedience, studiousness, or scholarship, were concerned. He had such bounding vitality he could not, it seemed, keep out of mischief. His dancing mistress, Miss Vera Moore, described him thus: “Winston was a small, red-headed pupil, and the naughtiest boy in the class. I actually used to think that he was the naughtiest small boy in the whole world.”

There seemed to be no field in which Winston Churchill’s peculiar brand of cheekiness did not flourish.

Once one of the teachers asked the children to call out the number of good conduct marks they had lost: “Nine” cried Winston, to which the teacher protested: “But you couldn’t have lost nine.” “Nein” repeated Churchill triumphantly: “I am talking German.”

He loved to pull that one prank because he had heard that one of the reasons why his ancestor John Churchill, the Duke of Marlborough had won the European battles that led to the battle of Blenheim and he carried the day there in the field of honor was because he had a superb understanding of the German language and therefore was able to communicate well with all others before, during, and after the battle of Blenheim, since at the time German was the military language of Europe.

 

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He was indeed a handful as a child, and perhaps even more so, as an adult…

Even Winston’s relatives found him a handful. He usually spent his holidays visiting one of his many aunts and uncles, and the occasions rarely passed without some dramatic incident taking place. Sometimes he went to Bournemouth to stay with his father’s sister, Lady Wimborne, and sometimes to Blenheim to stay with his father’s brother, now the
eighth Duke of Marlborough.

 

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Winston loved Blenheim palace because every corner of the resounding halls, and majestic rooms, breathed the splendour of the great defender of the Realm, the ancestral warrior, who had saved England from the rule of a European Tyrant by trashing him in the battle of Blenheim and beyond.

 

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The little boy was dazzled by the uniforms and the armor on display, and by the wonderful trophies, and the battle scenes that adorned the halls, and decorated the walls. But best of all, he loved the toy soldiers that brought to life the armies which his famous ancestor the Duke of Marlborough had commanded winningly in the field of honor.

 

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So to follow in his famous ancestor’s footsteps, Winston Churchill modeled his own collection on this impressive array, and often refought the Battle of Blenheim with himself as the heroic leader.

 

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He replayed this battle, again, and again, and again, until he knew every move. and he could execute every strategy, and every tactic by heart…

 

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He resolved that his life too, would be filled with excitement and glory — hopefully in defense of the Realm, or wherever else he could find his pride and joy; the primordial battle between Good and Evil.

Indeed it would, come to pass some day soon…

Oh Lord, methinks that surely came to pass in ways that none could have imagined at the time of Winston’s childhood epic battles.

 

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And indeed, he never lost his sense for, nor his taste for worthwhile adventure…

Yet back to his growing up, when Lady Jennie Churchill, was abroad, as she frequently was, her elder sister, Lady Leslie had taken young Winston under her wing as part of her brood and he became accustomed to being with her own family.

He became a fixture of her household, so much, that when he was twelve years old, she wrote the following letter to the celebrated author, Mr Rider Haggard: ‘The little boy Winston came here yesterday morning, beseeching me to take him to see you before he returns to school at the end of the month. I don’t wish to bore so busy a man as yourself, but will you, when you have time, please tell me, shall I bring him on Wednesday next, when Mrs Haggard said she would be at home? Or do you prefer settling to come here some afternoon when I could have the boy to meet you? He really is a very interesting being, though temporarily uppish from the restraining parental hand being in Russia.”

Shortly after the meeting Winston wrote to Mr Haggard: ‘Thank you so much for sending me Allan Quatermain; It was so good of you. I like A.Q. better than King Solomon’s Mines; It is more amusing. I hope you will write a good many more books.’

When Winston was not at Bournemouth, or Blenheim, or with Lady Leslie, in her house near Dublin, he sometimes stayed with his mother’s younger sister, Mrs Frewen, in London. And other times the Leslie and Frewen children came to visit him at various houses which Randolph Churchill had rented for the summer. The three Jerome sisters had produced between them six boys and one girl, so there was no shortage of playmates.

 

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A picture taken in 1889 shows Lady Jennie Churchill with her two sons, Winston age fourteen and Jack age eight; Mrs Frewen with Oswald, one, Hugh, six, and Clare, four; and Lady Leslie with Shane, four, and Norman, three.

This were the moments that if one had a time-bending telescope that could look into the future, he could discern that this little boy could conceivably one day become the Champion who saved Christian Western Civilization, from the knell of destruction and death.

Because Winston was always the undisputed leader of the group, being six years older than any of the other children, and his leadership was of a stirring and wilful character. His cousin, Shane Leslie, remembers the agitated consultations between nannies and nursery maids as to how to handle the headstrong boy.

He was the true enfant terrible. Once when he was defying his nurse he searched his brain for something ‘wicked’ with which he could threaten her; finally remembering her strong church principles he declared boldly that if she would not let him have his way he would ‘go and worship idols’.

His cousins regarded Winston with fascination and awe as Shane Leslie said: We thought he was wonderful, because he was always leading us to danger. Sometimes the danger rested in hazardous bird’s-nesting expeditions, sometimes in fights with the village children, sometimes in full-scale battles over carefully built fortresses. Once he even persuaded Mrs Everest to organize an expedition to the Tower of London, so that he could give the younger children a detailed lecture on the tortures used there upon the prisoners who had information to divulge…”

Clare Frewen, who later as Clare Sheridan became widely known as a sculptress and a writer, describes in her memoirs the impression Winston, her cousin made on her: “Winston was a large school boy when I was still in the nursery. He had a disconcerting way of looking at me critically and saying nothing. He filled me with awe. His playroom contained from one end to the other a plank table on trestles, upon which were thousands of lead soldiers arranged for battle. He organized wars. The lead battalions were maneuvered into action, peas and pebbles committed great casualties, forts were stormed, cavalry charged, bridges were destroyed real water tanks engulfed the advancing foe. Altogether it was a most impressive show, and played with an interest that was no ordinary child game.”

“One summer the Churchills rented a small house in the country for the holidays. It was called Banstead. Winston and Jack, his brother, built a log house with the help of the gardener’s children and dug a ditch around it which they contrived to fill with water, and made a drawbridge that really could pull up and down. Here again war proceeded. The fort was stormed. I was hurriedly removed from the scene of action as mud and
stones began to fly with effect. But the incident impressed me, and Winston became a very important person in my estimation.”

During the first three years that Winston was learning at school in Brighton — Lord Randolph Churchill, was moving rapidly towards the glittering height of his political career. Even though Winston was only nine he realized with immense pride that his father was a great national figure. The newspapers were full of his utterances, and the magazines ran dozens of cartoons. He noticed proudly, that strangers even took off their hats when Lord Randolph Churchill passed by, and he heard grown-ups speaking of him as ‘Gladstone’s great adversary. He pored over the daily papers and read every word of his father’s speeches. He bought a scrap-book and pasted in the cartoons. He listened to whatever snatches of political talk he could hear, and acquainted himself with special knowledge of all the great personalities of the day. And, of course, he lined up firmly on his father’s political side…

Anyone who was not interested in politics, he decided, must be very stupid indeed. Once when he visited the Marylebone swimming baths in London he asked the attendant if he were a Liberal or a Conservative: “Oh, I don’t bother myself about politics” replied the man. “What” gasped Winston in indignation: “You pay taxes, and you don’t bother yourself about politics? You ought to want to stand on a box in Hyde Park and tell people things.”

On another occasion Winston refused to play with a certain friend anymore, and when the friend’s father inquired why, the boy answered: “Winston says you’re one of those damned Radicals and he’s not coming over here again.”

Lord Randolph was apparently unaware that he had such a staunch supporter in his elder son. He was completely centered in his own affairs and spared little time for his children. They were almost like strangers to him and yet when Winston was thirteen his father introduced him to Bram Stoker, the author of Dracula, saying: “He’s not much yet, but he’s a good ‘un.'” Winston was enormously pleased by this tribute but during the next
few years was doomed to fall considerably in his father’s estimation.

The trouble, once again, was school; and this time it was Harrow. From the very first he was a failure. Most members of the Churchill family went to Eton, but since Winston had suffered from pneumonia twice, his mother decided to send him to Harrow which, since it stands on a hill, was supposed to be healthier for a boy with a ‘weak chest.’ The Latin entrance examination paper which Winston handed in, however, contained nothing more than a figure one in brackets, two smudges and a blot. However, Dr. Welldon, the Headmaster, took the unusual step of examining his other papers himself, and being convinced that it was impossible for Lord Randolph’s son to be totally devoid of intelligence, persuaded himself that they showed traces of originality.

On the strength of his intervention — Winston was admitted to Harrow as a fresher…

Things went from bad to worse. Winston passed into Harrow the lowest boy, in the lowest form, and he never moved out of the Lower School, the whole five years he was there. Roll call was taken on the steps outside the Old School and the boys used to file past according to their scholastic record. Although in 1888 Lord Randolph was out of office he was still a world figure and sometimes visitors gathered to catch a glimpse
of the brilliant mans’ son. Winston often heard them exclaim in amazement: ‘Why, he’s the last of all!’

Surely still recalling the daily humiliation, Winston many years later proclaimed firmly:
“I am all for the Public Schools but I do not want to go there again.”

Indeed the Headmasters also struggled with Churchill whose antics left them in a daily panic of quandary on how to handle this “wild one,” if not full of bewilderment, and indignation because Winston was full of self-confidence and assertiveness. At the time, young Winston could talk Arabs out of their camels, and Eskimos out of their fleece. So indeed why could he not learn the rudiments of Latin and Mathematics was a major question tantalizing his teachers. Yet to this day Winston Churchill insists that where “my reason, imagination or interest was not engaged I could not or would not learn.”

There is no doubt that stubbornness played a considerable part, because when his twelve years of school came to an end, he declared with some pride that no one had ever succeeded in making him write a Latin verse or learn any Greek except the alphabet and Homer’s Odyssey & Iliad.

Regardless of his Homeric inklings, Winston as result of his carefully curated selection of personal interest subjects — he remained perpetually at the bottom of the class; and as a
further result he was thoroughly grounded in English. If he was too stupid to learn Latin he could at least learn English. He was drilled over and over again in parsing and syntax. He writes: “Thus I got into my bones the essential structure of the ordinary British sentence which is a noble thing. And when in after years my schoolfellows who had won prizes and distinction for writing such beautiful Latin poetry and pithy Greek epigrams had to come down again to common English, to earn their living or make their way, I did not feel myself at any disadvantage.”

Churchill loved to experiment with the use of words and was passionately fond of declaiming his hastily improvised or made-up speeches in a rhetorical or impassioned way to any impromptu or inopportune audience. He astonished the School Headmaster, Dr Welldon, by reciting twelve hundred lines of Macaulay’s ‘Lays of Ancient Rome’ without making a single mistake. A singular feat for which he won a school prize. The Headmaster Dr Welldon thereafter always declared: “I do not believe I have ever seen in a boy, such a strong veneration of the English language.”

Other worthy testimony for the young pupil, comes from Mr Moore, who ran the Bookshop at the Harrow School: “Winston Churchill … in his schooldays already showed evidences of his unusual command of words. He would argue in the shop on any subject, and, as a result of this, he was, I am afraid, often left in sole possession of the floor.”

Churchill was no better at sport than he was at Latin or Greek. He hated cricket and football and the only distinction he won was the Public Schools Fencing Competition. He was not a popular boy. Instead of being subdued by his failures he grew more self assertive than ever. Once he crept-up behind a small boy standing on the edge of the swimming pool and pushed him in. As the dripping and indignant figure climbed out, some of the boys who had watched the incident chanted with delight, ‘You’re in for it,’ for the victim was none other than Leo Amery, a Sixth Form boy, who was not only Head of his House but a champion at gym. When Winston realized the full implications of his act he went up and apologized. ‘I mistook you for a Fourth Form boy,’ he explained, ‘you are so small.’ Then, sensing that this had not improved matters, added quickly: ‘My father too is small and he also is a great man.’ Leo Amery, who in later years sat in many of the same Cabinets with Churchill, burst into laughter and warned the miscreant to be more careful in the future.

Amery got his own back on Winston a short time later when the latter wrote several letters to the school magazine criticizing the gym. Amery was one of the schoolboy editors, and when Winston Churchill’s second contribution was sent in, containing an even more spirited attack than the first, he wielded the blue pencil firmly. With tears in his eyes Winston remonstrated that Amery was deleting his best paragraphs, but the latter was adamant and the letter was published with the following footnote: We have omitted a portion of our correspondent’s letter, which seemed to us to exceed the limits of fair criticism.

Winston Churchill’s letters were published under the pen-name, Junius Junior, and even with the editorial excisions, corrections, and omissions — Headmaster Welldon felt that Winston was going too far. He summoned him and said that he had noticed certain articles of a subversive character critical of the constituted authorities of the school; that as the articles were anonymous he would not dream of asking who wrote them, but that if any more of the same sort appeared it might be his painful duty to ‘swish’ Winston Churchill.

Churchill, however, was not intimidated by a dressing-down. Mr Tomlin, who was the Head of School in Winston’s second year, wrote: “When Dr Welldon once had Winston ‘on the carpet’ and said, ‘Churchill, I have very grave reason to be displeased with you,’ the boy retorted brightly, ‘And I, sir, have very grave reason to be displeased with you.’
Despite Winston’s sauce, Welldon confided to a friend that he was one of his favourite pupils.

Winston Churchill’s literary efforts did not extend much further than his attacks on the gym, save for a long poem on an epidemic of influenza. One of the verses went:
“And now Europe groans aloud
And ‘neath the heavy thunder-cloud
Hushed is both song and dance;
The germs of illness wend their way
To westward each succeeding day
And enter merry France.”

Churchill did not worry about his unpopularity with his schoolmates, for he was not a boy who feared to be alone, since he could always find something amusing to do with his leisure. When he was fifteen he made an experiment which fortunately escaped the notice of the masters. In the town of Harrow there stood an old deserted house with a large garden. As the building fell into decay it became known as ‘The Haunted House.’

There was an old well in the garden and people claimed that a passage at the bottom led to the Parish Church. Winston thought it would be fun to find out whether this was true and hit upon the happy idea of blowing it up.

With some gunpowder, a stone ginger-beer bottle and a homemade fuse, he assembled an elementary but effective bomb, and placed it at the bottom of the well. Nothing happened and he leaned over the wall.. to check & see: “At that moment the bomb exploded. Winston was not hurt but his face was blackened and his hair and eyebrows singed. The neighbours hurried to their windows and a Mr Harry Woodbridge, who lived in Harrow, declared that his aunt ran out to help the boy. She brought him into the kitchen and bathed his face. When he left he thanked her and said: “I expect this will get me the bag.” But the Harrow School Headmasters did not hear of the incident and Winston’s fears and perhaps secret wishes for expulsion — sadly were not realized.”

Winston’s indifference to his schoolmates probably revealed itself most nobly in his attitude to the devoted Mrs Everest. English Public Schools are cruelly critical of the outward display of affection, and for this reason boys have even been known to beg their parents to keep away. Winston not only invited Mrs Everest to visit him but when she arrived, enormously fat and smiling, kissed her in front of all the boys and walked down
the street with her arm in arm. Jack Seely, an old Harrovian who afterwards became one of Winston Churchill’s Cabinet colleagues, and won the D.S.O. in the First War, witnessed the incident and described it as one of the ‘bravest acts’ he had ever seen.

Back in London, Jennie and Lord Randolph were at turns, startled and worried by their son’s scholastic failures. They must have felt that the boy must be somewhat backward and for the first time began to concern themselves about his future. Occasionally Randolph, visited Winston at Harrow and followed the approved pattern of parental behaviour by taking him and his school friend, Jack Milbanke, to luncheon at the King’s Head Hotel. Winston sat awkward and silent, listening to Milbanke conversing so easily with his brilliant father and wishing with all his heart that he could do the same. But Lord Randolph intimidated his son. He was remote and impersonal and even then made no effort to gain his confidence. The son was filled with admiration for his father, yet in his presence was always remaining quiet, gauche, and self-conscious.

In due form though, we should record what transpired before he was able to join the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst, because Winston Churchill had to overcome some serious adversity, as always, he had to do before any of his great Victories. He had to taste the bitter pill of defeat before Lady Fortune smiled upon him. Same as here, when just before Winston Churchill passed his final examination for the Royal Military Academy of Sandhurst — he had a serious accident:  “He went to visit his aunt, Lady Wimborne, at Bournemouth. He was being chased by his cousin and his brother and suddenly found himself cornered on a bridge, under which lay a ravine covered with pine trees. He rashly decided to avoid capture by jumping into the ravine, hoping that the trees would break his fall and deposit him on the earth unhurt. His plan misfired and he fell twenty-nine feet onto hard ground. The two boys ran into the house and fetched Lady Randolph, saying: ‘Winston jumped over the bridge and he won’t speak to us.’

For three days he was unconscious. His father hurried from Ireland and all the most eminent specialists of the day were summoned. He had a ruptured kidney which called for an immediate operation. The news went round the Carlton Club that Lord Randolph’s son had met with a serious accident playing ‘Follow my Leader’, to which the wits replied: ‘Lord Randolph will never come to grief that way.’

Winston was laid up for nearly the whole of the year 1893. But his convalescence, far from proving dull, opened up for him the exciting world of politics that he had hitherto only read about. His parents took him to London where they were living with his grandmother, the dowager Duchess of Marlborough, at 50 Grosvenor Square. Lord Randolph Churchill was a sick man; he was shrunken and pale and had grown an enormous, shaggy beard that seemed to accentuate his illness. Yet he still dreamed of retrieving his position, because he felt he had been badly used; and Winston had heard him refer bitterly to the Tories as “a Government and a party which for five years have boycotted and slandered me.” He had therefore gained a certain amount of satisfaction when, a few months previously, Gladstone had beaten the Tories at the polls and ascended the throne once again.

Lord Randolph’s sister was married to Lord Tweedmouth, Gladstone’s chief whip, so the Churchills found themselves in the Liberals’ inner circle. Every day there were people for lunch and dinner and here the eighteen-year-old Winston met for the first time many of the great figures whom he was destined to know as colleagues in the days to come. He met Mr Chamberlain, Mr Balfour, Mr Edward Carson, Mr Asquith, Mr John Morley, Lord Rosebery and many others. He often attended the House of Commons, and heard Gladstone wind up the Third Reading of the Home Rule Bill. One evening when Edward Carson came to dinner and discovered that Winston had spent the afternoon in the gallery, he said: ‘What did you think of my speech?’ Young Winston Churchill, replied solemnly: “I concluded from it sir, that the ship of State is struggling in heavy seas.”

What fascinated Winston most about the House of Commons was that although the battle across the floor was sharp and fierce, when opponents met outside the Chamber they were friendly and courteous. On one occasion he heard his father and Sir William Harcourt exchanging very acrimonious charges. Sir William seemed to him unnecessarily angry and extremely unfair. He was therefore astonished when the latter came up to him in the gallery, shook his hand and smiled and asked him what he
thought of the speech. The lack of rancour impressed Winston. It was the truly sporting way to fight, he decided, as chivalrous as the knights of old; and it is worth noticing that he has always modelled his own conduct on these Victorian examples.

As the days passed he tried eagerly to draw closer to his estranged and always distant family father, Lord Randolph Churchill, without much success…

Yet he kept on trying, because a short time before his accident he had caught one fleeting glimpse of the inner man, which encouraged him and filled him with hope. He had let off a gun at a rabbit which happened to appear on the lawn just below Lord Randolph’s window. The latter spoke to his son angrily, then suddenly melted. He talked gently about school and the Army, and the difficulties and rewards of life in general. At the end he said: “Remember things do not always go right with me. My every action is misjudged and every word distorted. … So make some allowances.”

The fact that Lord Randolph had opened up to his erstwhile ‘son’ for these few minutes filled Winston with hope, that he can chisel away at the stone faced moment to get some inner warmth and humanity towards his distant and strange father, whom he truly loved, defended, and respected truly, and always.

He thought that perhaps one day, when he had made his name and fortune, he would enter the House at his father’s side and they would fight their way together. But this one ‘father to son’ ‘talk’ was the only intimate conversation Winston was ever going to have with Lord Randolph Churchill…

Strange indeed…

Another day when Winston was fourteen and staying at home on holiday; Lord Randolph went up to the nursery, and he found Winston replaying with his soldiers which were then over fifteen hundred strong, the epic battle of Blenheim. Randolph studied the battle arrayed as the lead soldiers stood ready in the proper line of battle and after some thought, asked him if he would like to become a soldier. Winston was instantly delighted to think that his father had discovered in him the seeds of military genius. What he failed to realize for many years, as he later said; was that Lord Randolph had decided that “soldiering” was the only career for a boy of limited intelligence, such as this one who preferred to play with his toy soldiers all day long…

Yet, Winston was immensely pleased at the prospect of a military life and career. He immediately took a special course at Harrow to prepare him for his Sandhurst entrance examination, but even here he did not succeed.

Twice he took the examination and twice he failed.

In exasperation his father removed him from Harrow and sent him to a “crammer” to school him in preparation for the admittance examination for Sandhurst. After the requisite preparations, Winston took the examination for the third time, and passed. But so came in so low that he was not qualified to enter any regiment, but the cavalry. The cavalry accepted a lower standard since its primary requisite was for young men of independent means who could and would pay for their own horses, uniforms, and upkeep…

When Lord Randolph heard of what he saw as his son’s latest “failure” he was very angry indeed, and wrote him a terse letter warning him that if he did not pull himself together he would become a “social wastrel” for the rest of his life. Because Lord Randolph had set his heart on Winston’s joining the 6oth Rifles — he now had the humiliating duty of writing to the Colonel of the Regiment, and explaining that his son was “too stupid” to qualify for the 60th Rifles Regiment, and instead had joined the cavalry…

Yet all was well, because and probably despite his father’s indignation; Winston was thrilled at the thought of becoming a smart cavalry officer.

He reckoned: “Riding is more fun than walking.” He thus entered the Royal Military Academy, with a light heart, a sure smile, a great uniform, a shining sword, a side arm, and a swift tempered white horse.

 

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What’s not to like?

He was in Heaven.

Life was suddenly sweet for young Winston Churchill.

Now he said: “Let the games of war, life, and polo begin.”

 

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To be continued…

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | June 4, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 20)

THE YEAR 1874 BRINGS FORTH A BASTARD PRINCE

Eighteen Seventy Four [1874] was the year that Winston Churchill was born.

That was the year the apparent Randolph Churchill’s son, the weighty, plump, and red faced baby came out of the womb of Jennie Jerome Churchill, sliding out easily like a ripe fruit.

He was christened Winston Leonard Spencer Churchill, as he was born into this world.

 

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Winston arrived on St Andrews’ day, inside Blenheim palace, the seat of the Duke of Marlborough, in Oxfordshire.

This was greeted as a good omen by all, and especially by the child’s grandparents. He was the newest addition to the clan, and was loved by everyone for his good nature. But somehow his arrival on St Andrews day, symbolized that he was destined for great things and the local fortune teller said that he was suited to assume the mantle of the original Duke of Marlborough.

But for the time being, little ruddy and plump Winston became the plaything for the whole household, sharing joy with all who saw him, and held him for a while. Everybody wanted to pet him…

Indeed he became the favorite and he played all the time as little children often do…

 

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With a good and healthy appetite and a strong buxom wet nurse; he drank plenty of milk, grew fast, and was as healthy as can be. Good genes account for that, and also a good predisposition. Those two qualities can go a long way for a healthy child. And having a Mrs Everest as a nursemaid can really help you climb up those towering peaks of Life, starting up early on…

Still at the same time baby Winston was sucking the milk out of the Mt Everest dual peaks, the political glow of Randolph Churchill’s temporary fame, must not have quite registered with such a young child, because only the stories about his prodigal ancestor the Duke of Marlborough made the young lad smile. Indeed young Winston loved the military success stories just as much as he loved his toy soldiers, the dual magnificent domes of Mrs Everest streaming with milk, and of course the detailed battle plans of the famous war games.

All these became his constant playthings, and in some ways, he continued playing out these battles, throughout his lifetime.

 

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Somewhere along these lines, between milking and battling, Randolph Churchill must also have been seen as an inspiration, because although rarely sen around the house, at this time Randolph was one of the most spectacular men of the day, and this must naturally have been another cause to excite Winston’s plentiful imagination. For Randolph was a great dresser, a bon vivant, a super dandy, and a caricature of a serious politician — therefore he astonished all the people he met, and of course between his vulgar self promotion, and his astonishing emotional highs and lows rollercoaster, he admonished his son about the value of being a sharp dresser. Probably he must have astonished young Winston viscerally, because of his visual, as well as because of his auditory stimulation, as only a strong male figure with a stentorian voice can do.

And Randolph indeed knew how to speak… loud and clear. Perhaps too clear…

Lord Randy as he was called by his friends and intimates, was vulgar, coarse, and flamboyant, and his career took off, and flashed across the late Victorian sky like a meteor. Still Randy was the talk of the town amongst the ‘In” crowd of actors, vaudevillians, artists, entertainers, and the working class masses. He was theatrical, he was popular, he was dandyish and always shooting from the cuff. What’s not to like? He was gay as gay can be, but gay in a way that was not quite acceptable at the late Victorian era. Still due to his name and all other skills, he was given a “Free Pass” but that is only, if he could “keep-it-in-his-pants.” And for a while he did, and thus he advanced in his meteoric political career. He advanced by means of a brilliant and savage tongue, and without much of a strategy besides a basic grasp of Disraelian political ideology. Lord Randy shifted from the political back benches of the House of Parliament in the “Commons” to become the Leader of the House, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Lord Randy, “schooled” as he were, amongst the theatre people — knew how to attract attention. He soon became a brazen politician actor and he reckoned that the Parliament was his stage. He indeed become the outrageous matinee idol of the hustings, the brilliant wit, the verdant flowering rosebush — and indeed he became the “enfant terrible” of British politics. A dandy with a potty mouth that wouldn’t quite quit…

 

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In some fawning biographies Randy is portrayed like a late Victorian pop star, but that is pure Churchillian propaganda and should be dismissed as such. Along the way of this propaganda, Randy was credited with revitalizing a defeated, dejected, and dispirited Tory Party, and through his energetic fervor and under the leadership of his Mentor the famed Lord Salisbury — were all led to victory in the upcoming elections and thus secured the government. The newly formed cabinet had a place of honor for this young and aristocratic rebellious and pugnacious man.

That’s a beautiful story, except that its all mostly hogwash…

And as a cover-up story, it was only conceived in order to attempt to explain the unexplainable.

As usual Life is stranger than fiction, and that silly red herring story, had better be discarded in the trash heap of history, right next to the silly story that credits Al Gore with the creation of the Internet, and the other even sillier one that credits Hillary Clinton with the renaissance of the DNC, and of the Democratic party:

“Loser Weeper — Never Admitter.”

Still you know that all major bullshit stories, are manufactured by the puppet masters, for the usual mass media observing folk, who drink the cool aid by the bucketful, and for those evil doers who manufacture that kind of liquid crack as a profession.

The real story about Randolph is a lot more interesting, because not all that Randy was good at, was being a showman. A gay-spark. An actor. A vaudevillian. And a political innovator of pseudo liberal Conservatism. Randy above all else was very “gay.” A sarcastic little man but one with a refreshingly sharp wit and even sharper tongue. And even if he was a pseudo ideologue — his political sarcasm made him so many enemies that they all vied with each other to expose him for his uber-sexual gay lifestyle. Of course Randolph had shot through the ladder of success and achievement like Halley’s comet, but he was always careening this way and that, and when he reached the pinnacle of his political success — he found himself tottering at the very top. Sadly that’s all he could do.

Amazingly he accomplished all this, when he was just thirty-six years old.

 

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Because at the ripe young age of 36, he became the youngest Chancellor of the Exchequer, to this day, and the occupant of the Chancellor’s house on Downing Street No 11, next to No 10 which is the official residence of the Prime Minister. Sadly Randy kept it together for only a few months. Indeed he only lasted for four months in this exalted and stressful job and e was done in by himself. his one and only budget, his “Magnus Opus” was rejected wholeheartedly by the Parliament and all the major constituents.

And then in a moment of mental illness — he screwed it all up. Some people say that he went for a dramatic political overreach, full of arrogance, and petulant folly — and stepped into the void that surrounds all high peaks, and he came crushing down to earth. And indeed that is the accepted view and the official story, about Randy’s downfall, but the reality is quite different. Randy due to his serious form of STD he had received in his carnal exploration of the annal cavity of hundreds of men — was really really sick with syphilitic encephalitis that caused the splitting headaches that he suffered and the migraines his mushy brain created, that eventually first drove him to be catatonic, then apoplectic, and eventually made him bonkers, and gradually returned him to a stage like a child completely unable to fend for himself and eventually it killed him.

This is the story that is almost historically correct, but not describing the political dimension. Because you’ve got to remember that the Victorian times were the pinnacle of Political Correctness. And in those years very much like today — political correctness ruled. In ways large and small Randolph Churchill was an iconoclast and he became a politician like Donald Trump is today. He was wildly popular but due to his own idiosyncrasies, the popular media and the opinion makers could not stand him. He was antagonistic and sarcastic. He was full of bravado and much like Trump uses Twitter, he used his letters to the Times as his way to communicate with his Constituency that was the masses of England and was always growing.

 

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His popularity was peeking the more politically incorrect he was becoming. But his sexuality was his Achilles heel. Victorians couldn’t tolerate a Gay man in high office and especially one that was fairly open about his sexuality much like his friend and fellow apostate Oscar Wilde was.

Surely the political angle of the propaganda story of Randolph wanting to draft the best possible budget, and being denied, and then resigning — is a honorable way for a man to appear to have fallen on his own sword of principle. Yet romantic as that sounds, it is not congruent with reality.

Same as the other story circulating that Randolph was mentally ill, and he went bonkers and run through Parliament naked. Nice but no cigar, because it simply wasn’t true…

Surely he was going mad with headaches and due to the onset of and due to the continued advancement of syphilitic encephalitis, which is a debilitating disease commonly known as syphilis — but that was yet to come…

 

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In short the decade of the 1880s saw the meteoric rise and catastrophic fall of the brilliant Lord Randolph Churchill, who sought to succeed Benjamin Disraeli in the leadership of the Conservatives, after the later’s early death while being the leader of the opposition, having stepped down from the Government a few months earlier — having lost the disruptive elections of 1880.

Randolph was an intense personality of dandyism, shining wit, and piercing sarcasm — all aspects of a pugilistic and pugnacious character singularly fitted to propel him to great political heights.

And this he did handsomely and easily, but before he had reached the absolute pinnacle of success at the Prime Minister’s office on Number 10 Downing Street, his career took a wrong turn and was instantaneously extinguished, when he had to resign as Chancellor of the Exchequer, due to a scandalous affair…

Not too long after that the spark of his life was snuffed out too.

His death at age 45, from syphilis, cast a pall over his early fame.

 

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Randolph Henry Spencer-Churchill, younger son of the 7th Duke of Marlborough, was born 13 February 1849. Like other young men of his time, he joined in the merry life of the Marlborough House set, where the tone was set by his best friend, the Prince of Wales, who introduced him to his concubine in 1874, with a clear plan and a sweet and rewarding proposal for the advancement of Randolph, and mutual support…

It was a cad’s game but there you have it…

Manufactured history will tell you that apparently Randolph was immediately smitten with the young American debutante and at the ripe age of 25, proposed, and married Jennie, the beautiful second daughter of Leonard and Clara Jerome of New York.

Soon thereafter, he was elected a Member of Parliament for Woodstock, and embarked upon a tumultuous political career.

 

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Not all of Randolph’s time was spent in the House of Commons. He took to the turf and traveled widely: as far afield as South Africa, from whence he returned in January 1892, sporting a beard. The next year he visited Russia and Germany to relax at spas with Jennie. Against their doctors’ advice, Lord and Lady Randolph made a world tour in 1894 which was cut short by his rapidly deteriorating health. He returned to England in late 1894, “as weak and helpless in mind and body as a little child,” according to his son and biographer.

Even as a young man, Randolph’s health had been unreliable. He was a binge drinker, a heavy smoker out to “burn his tongue,” and family, friends and physicians, all advised him to quit smoking and moderate his drinking. He was a very hard worker, with a frenetic energy that Winston described as “of a temper that gallops till it falls.” Periods of intense activity led Randolph to exhaustion, and were soon followed by periods of profound fatigue, and forced rest, induced by melancholia.

Lord Randolph was seriously ill in 1890, with palpitations associated with exhaustion. His family physician, Dr. Robson Roose, prescribed belladonna, laudanum and digitalis. The following year, he experienced an episode of severe confusion, which suggests acute high blood pressure. Earlier, in 1882, he had had an extended illness which Lady Randolph’s diary refers to as tiredness and fevers. Later, in mid-1893, Dr. Roose told Jennie, who was distraught over her husband’s illness, that Randolph’s heart condition had, nonetheless, been cured. But around this time, Randolph began to have speaking difficulties which were associated with hearing and balance problems.

Over the next two years until his death in 1895, Lord Randolph complained of dizziness, palpitations, and intermittent numbness in his hands and feet. His speech became more slurred, and during one of his last parliamentary speeches, he hesitated, slurred, and was quite unable to complete reading the text of his speech. His friend Lord Rosebery later recorded that “he was the chief mourner at his own protracted funeral, a public pageant of gloomy years.” He eventually became quick-tempered and combative. Finally, he died in a coma, with pneumonia and, probably, kidney failure.

 

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His biographers, including his son Winston, were divided on the nature of Lord Randolph’s medical problems and the cause of his death. They have generally attributed his deterioration and death to syphilis and its effects when gone untreated and as we know today, in the late Victorian time there was neither cure, nor effective treatment for it…

Syphilis is a sexually transmitted disease caused by “Treponema pallidum” with human beings, being the only host. Syphilitic infection of the nervous system results in the most chronic, insidious meningeal inflammatory process known. Invasion of the CNS occurs early in the course of untreated syphilis. During the late Victorian era, there had been a drastic increase, in syphilis cases all over London and it’s environs, as well as worldwide, as a side effect of the globalization, commerce, shipping and communications, but above all else — due to the licentious behavior of parts of the population. Syphilis became the disease for the gay men fraternizing with society of thespians, actors, and also with returning sailors, soldiers, and prison inmates — who all together spread the disease widely. At the time syphilis had no known cure. Yet this was the time of sexual revolution like the 1960’s and the ease of intercourse in Society’s fancy balls, and costume parties, was similar to the trade of promiscuous Aristocrats with the prostitutes of Covent Garden, and White Chapel, or with the male whores of Soho, Carnaby, and Leicester Square. And that is how the promiscuous members of the High Society were attacked by the scourge of syphilis, that in it’s heyday was just as destructive, shameful and stigmatized, like HIV-AIDS was seen to be, in the late 1980s, 90s, and even today.

The London gay population suffered the greatest incidence of syphilis, more than anyone else, and it was quite common amongst theatre actors, and covert gay people, especially in urban areas. To be syphilitic was part and parcel of being part of the troupe. This fact led Victorian Doctors to heighten their degree of suspicion, being profoundly alert to the possibility of this infection within the socially and sexually active populations. In the late Victorian era, neurosyphilis, was defined as the maddening Venereal Disease. The pathogenesis of neurosyphilis is similar to that of encephalitis, as it also effects the rest of the human body, because persistent syphilitic abnormalities develop into full blown neurosyphilis, such as what Lord Randy suffered from. Syphilis was first described in a Latin poem written by an Italian physician around 1530. Early on it was thought, that if a patient’s wickedness exceeded his or her natural virtue, then the disease could be incurable. By explaining these incurable causes, physicians were invoking the idea that the “French disease,” or “mal francese,” was sent as a punishment from God. This reinforced the social stigma attached to the disease, associating it with licentious, shameful, homoerotic, and invariably immoral behavior. 

 

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Does this sound like a fit description for Aids in the 1980s, or even in the 90s, as if it were offered as an explanation for this new scourge for humanity, by some fundamentalist nut job? Think about it. True, or not?

Imagine and transpose that description of HIV-AIDS now, to the Victorian era’s equivalent disease, and that’s when you can finally find out what Randy Churchill was up against. Because in the days before there was any cure for syphilis, it was considered an easily communicable disease in  public, and the ‘carriers” were seen as the chief killers amongst the members of the Victorian society. As a matter of fact syphilis was often used for moralizing purposes, and thus the churches also brought together many incurable men and women to the specially set-up alms houses that helped the feeble minded syphilitics exit this mortal coil, in admittedly Dickensian conditions. And the churchmen, would take children to visit these awful places, in order to scare them away from any sexy behavior for the rest of their lives.

Those visits and that level of scary sigh seeing, must have contributed to the amazing drop in birth rates at the end of the Victorian era. Methinks that is because when you see some vision of hell like that, as an impressionable young ,child and your teacher tells you that this happens when people have sex — nobody in his or her right mind, would ever even consider having sex. Still to this very day English people are traumatized about sexual intercourse and many choose to abstain. Yet all humor aside, these syphilitic houses acted like today’s hospices for the incurable cancer sufferers or for the Aids patients, and indeed in their own time played a positive role by alleviating some measure of human pain, and serving the social outcasts — the incurable Syphilis sufferers…

This Victorian solution was similar to what happened in 1521, for example, when the Venetian public health office, the “SANITA” officially responded to the civilian epidemic of syphilis, and the resultant military men health crisis that had spread to a critical number of affected persons, who openly begged for alms on the streets. “Incurabili” hospitals were established throughout the Italian peninsula, including in the cities of Rome, Bologna, Genoa, Florence, Naples, and Padua. University-trained physicians and popular healers sold their remedies, as well as recipes for how to make them, and used all of these to attempt unsuccessful treatments. They often also targeted affluent women and men, who might have been far too ashamed of their syphilitic condition, and avoided seeking medical treatment from their regular medical Doctors, and Clinicians. Some Italians for example, they were so stigmatized, and marginalized, that they simply couldn’t cope and committed suicide.

These treatment recipes of note, include a variety of everyday herbs and substances, such as incense, chamomile, earthworms, and chicken fat. Occasionally, more expensive and exotic ingredients, such as Artemisia dracunculus (tarragon), badger fat, bear fat, goose fat, or blood from a male pig, were used, especially if the case seemed particularly stubborn. The Italian Health Board, and the Holy Office of the Vatican Curia, tried to regulate the vast marketplace of cures, suspecting witchcraft, sorcery, and exorcism.  But government action failed just as much as the cures failed to produce any results. Still this governmental regulation is what has given rise and historical justification to today’s FDA and her regulatory powers, dating five centuries earlier than our Agency that regulates Drugs and Food….

 

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Syphilis, as a disease was introduced into Europe in the late 15th century, by returning explorers from the Americas and the Caribbean, and quickly became an epidemic throughout much of Europe. It was even called the “Indian gift” because this disease and the resultant outbreak, notably represented the only significant infection that Native Americans gave to Europe in return for the many devastating infections brought to America by Europeans. The syphilis epidemic outbreak and it’s worldwide spread were coincidental with the invasion of Naples by the French king, Charles VII. So people credit King Charles with being the royal patron of syphilis, because the dispersal of his debauched mercenary army, throughout Western Europe, was responsible for the rapid spread of the new disease, termed at the time, as the “great pox.” During the first years of its infestation in an immunologically naive population, syphilis appears to have assumed particularly horrific clinical manifestations. Few other diseases have inflicted such a burden of suffering on humankind, as the one that later became known as the “great imitator” because it had nothing to do with the “great pox” or indeed any kind of pox, great or small…

Early treatments, in the Victorian age, included mercury poisoning by Doctor’s prescription, iodides, guaiacum, and arsenic, also on Doctor’s orders. And indeed if you survived any and all of these treatments, that alone would drive a person mad, because at any rate, through their cumulative effect, these treatments were in and of themselves quite deadly and syphilitics were always driven mad before death arrived to liberate the soul.

We now know with certainty, that the Harley Street syphilis specialist, the London Doctor that Randolph Churchill was seeing in order to treat this disease — had prescribed both mercury and arsenic as the first line of defense against the disease of syphilis, which back then was perceived as “pox.”

Apparently Randy Churchill was acting like a mad man, who had lost his bearings, because he was indeed going stark raving mad. To this day, people say that he was seen running naked through the halls of Parliament, but that striking image has to be taken with more than a pound of salt. And although we all know that Englishmen love to streak naked at times of athletic contests — we need to add that this is a recent phenomenon. Indeed showing a bit of flash, flesh, and two perfect buns, in athletic events and especially in the game of footie, has only been a right of passage since footie became a thing. Sadly for the Victorians, during the Victorian era, footie was not such a draw.

Furthermore if Randolph Churchill were to be found streaking naked — it would most likely be in Holland Park at night, frolicking in the lake, along with the rest of the fairies. Or one can imagine that naked whiteness being chased by the Police after been found to be shaking the bushes with fellow sodomites, and other dandies given to these exclusively male pursuits after nightfall, with the likes of Oscar Wilde and his posse of pretty boys in the park…

 

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Lord Randolph was a real Dandy and clearly the best One of them all.

And of course he had vastly overestimated his own importance, strained his mental faculties, and thus overshot his mark, along with some other importune and inappropriate acts that he engaged into, and that made him totally unfit to hold the office of the second in command member of the English government’s cabinet.

In retrospect, we realize that he had a mental breakdown, and it was his syphilis that had thrown it all away…

Damn … those American Indians and their disease.

Yet in an ironic twist of fate and fortune, and in a thespian manner, it could correctly be said that the “Great Imitator” Randolph Churchill who greatly imitated Disraeli and all of Shakespeare’s great villains — had succumbed to syphilis, the disease labeled as the “Great Imitator.”

Small wonder then, that Randolph Churchill had to resign his position as Chancellor of the Exchequer, lose his political standing, lose his friends and followers, and he was never able to reach any position of authority ever again, becoming a bitter and spoiled man-child.

Yet it is vitally important to remember that Lord Randolph Churchill had first entered the world of politics, just as his assumed son Winston — the scion of Prince Edward and Jennie Jerome — had also entered the world, during the last twenty-five years of Queen Victoria’s long and successful reign, which was the best times and the worst times… Or at the very least it was the high-time of the Industrial Revolution.

During the first sixty years of that century, Great Britain had turned from her victory against the French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, towards peacetime industries. The ensuing Victorian industrial era saw Britain developing the talents which soon transformed her from a landed agricultural gentry driven society, into the greatest manufacturing country in the world, blessed with a new middle class of merchants, traders, financiers, shopkeepers and professionals. These were the fruits of the industrial revolution, and the Enlightenment coming to a head…

These were also the years that transformed Britain into Great Britain, and turned her into an Empire. Disraeli indeed was the Prime Minister whose skill and craft with Diplomacy and Visionary International Affairs were of such magnitude, that he was able to transform the Queen into an Empress. The wind blowing the sails of her fleet and her capable administrators of the Civil Service and the Overseas Service, allowed the English mind to become the Global Brain, and thus made Great Britain the Empire to behold.

And at this point the British Empire had many rivals, but none that could approach the glory of the sun that never set over the British empire, because her dominions were interspersed in all the geographical longitudes and latitudes of the known world, and somewhere above the skies of the empire — the Sun would be shinning, even when it was dark in London. This geographical expansion and the mighty fleet plying the waters of the seven seas and supplying the needs of England and Europe with many goods and services, not only extended the English commerce to the ends of the great and growing Empire across the seas, but they built the interconnected network of a global communications infrastructure via flash post and the vaunted Royal Postal Service that served the needs of all across the world. The rise of shareholding companies and global international concerns are also seen as the cause of the explosion of communications and commerce that changed the world and made everybody richer…

The Internet and Communications convergence revolution of today with the Digital Renaissance, cannot even compare with the changes the late Victorian era saw in expansionary commerce and global communications and trade, because that was the first time that the world was connected fully…

These were heady times indeed, and by 1868 England was a proud and prosperous nations and the Great British Empire stretched from Australia to Northern Canada, and from Greenwich standard time to Hong Kong and Burma time at the other end of the time zone. The aristocracy and the newly rich merchants, shippers, manufacturers, and financiers, all lived in affluence and style; and although they were divided by birth and breeding — the public schools provided the necessary link by educating the children of both, to be gentlemen of a single, approved pattern. These children were brought up to take their places in the powerful and exclusive oligarchy by which Britain was governed in a democratic parliamentary system.

That aristocratic oligarchy was based not only on wealth and position, but also on merit and influence of skill. Even though only men of property had the right to vote and only men of property were chosen as Parliamentary candidates — many ways existed for capable men to bypass and overcome the difficulties of not owning land and make their way into politics. Disraeli was one of them as so many other leading Prime Ministers and leading Parliamentarians.. As a class though this Aristocracy, considered it their natural prerogative to rule, and proudly displayed to the world the strong, rich nation that had emerged under their guidance. But beneath this impressive show of prosperity and country estates with impressive piles of stone built upon them as magnificent houses that still adorn England, there was also the underlying poverty, bitterness, and unemployment. The lot of the working man was indeed quite hard, because he lived in crowded slums, laboring long hours for low wages, with the fear of the workhouse always in his mind. Without the right to vote this man’s struggles for improvement of his conditions was limited, but the fact that the Trade Unions were slowly gathering strength — revealed his sombre determination.

The restlessness of the masses did not escape the notice of William Ewart Gladstone, who was Prime Minister from 1868 to 1874, so he devoted his first administration almost entirely to attacking the privileges of the riding class. Gladstone ended the patronage system by which the Civil Service was run, and opened it to competitive examination. He  stopped the buying and selling of commissions in the Army and opened it to talent. He extended primary school education throughout the country; and he extended further the vote to the middle classes. He allowed the Unions to be represented and to be heard without having to go on strikes. He also looked after protecting the jobs of the lower classes from cheap imports, and textiles from abroad and instead sought to make the English textiles and goods the defect stock and trade of the British Empire’s commerce and of that of her Commonwealth countries…

Although Gladstone came close — he did not destroy the oligarchy, but merely broadened its basis, so much so, that people like the Duke of Marlborough, and the rest of the thirty or so Dukes of  England, considered Mr Gladstone a dangerous Radical. So that when young Lord Randolph left Oxford the Duke and the Duchess, his father and mother, begged him to hold himself in readiness, for the next election when he could stand for the family seat of Woodstock and prevent it from falling into the hands of the hated class enemy — the Gladstone politicians who were seen as the mortal enemies of the Conservatives.

As a boy Lord Randolph had none of the harsh insolence which characterized his career in the House of Commons. He grew up at Blenheim palace with his elder brother, Blandford, under the care of a doting father and mother. His parents followed the normal practice of the aristocracy in sending him to Eton and Oxford where he appears to have been an able though not a brilliant pupil. At Eton one of his masters, Mr Brinsley Richards, described him as ‘a rough and tumble urchin. ‘Churchill.’ he wrote, ‘was an easy lower boy to catch whenever anything had to be done, for his whereabouts could be ascertained by his incessant peals of laughter.’

After graduating from Oxford Lord Randolph obediently idled away the next three years waiting for a General Election. He was not at all politically inclined but Woodstock had been represented by a member of the family for ‘years and years’ and he felt it his duty to maintain tradition.

He travelled abroad for a year then returned to enjoy himself as a “gay spark” in the fashionable and exclusive circles of London society with intimate friends amongst the Oscar Wilde crowd and the rest of the gay-sparks.

 

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Although Oscar Wilde at the time was not revealed as the ultimate gay hedonist, or a corruptor of the youth, that he really was, and instead was described as a bon-vivant, as a wit, and a great Thespian, if not an Epicurean — let’s keep in mind that at this period of time; Randolph Churchill was also hanging out with this same group of men, and was also described by his biographers as “a gay-spark, and such a ‘cheerful and impulsive’ personality of a man about town, that all the young theatre goers, play actors, and other gay-sparks, emulated his fashionable dress code and his idiosyncratic lifestyle” … whatever that means.

Yet the “official propaganda” machine that whitewashes the historical record, describes Randolph, as a born again lover of women — which seems to be an afterthought borne out of necessity to hide the manufactured fact of the “fake wedding” and the “immaculate lily white marriage” to Jennie Jerome, the mother of Winston Churchill who was impregnated by the Prince Edward, the soon to be King of England. And the fact that she never had any biblical intercourse, or even simple carnal relations with Randolph Churchill, is what saved her and her children from the scourge of Syphilis. And that is the further proof of her quiet intelligence n selecting the best possible genes for her children while also getting a good name “Family Father” to protect those children from cruel Society’s name plating them as bastards.

Jennie Jerome Churchill, indeed went on to live her life as a healthy woman free of syphilis or any of that venereal STDs, long after Randolph had succumbed to this terrible disease.  Both of her children Winston & Jack, also were vitally healthy and never exhibited any of the signs of syphilis that the children of syphilitics always share with their parents.

As for the revisionist and popular myth that the young gay-spark Randolph went to Cowes in August 1873 where he met a beautiful dark-haired, nineteen-year-old American girl Jeanette and was smitten by her beauty, because he engaged her in deep conversation, and then he wooed her, and forty-eight hours later he proposed, and she immediately accepted, and they communicated their love to each other’s parents, and they got engaged, and then they got married in Paris, and then they had a kid named Winston, and then they had another kid named jack, and then lived happily ever after, and then Randolph got crazy and left his job, and then they went around the world, and then he died, and then Jennie got married again… ad infinitum. Great story if you believe it, but its all just major bullshit. Yet if it gives you any degree of comfort, please enjoy it, because it is the official bullshit, and you can have your fill…

And if you like this type of official bullshit — here is some more: Because the Camelot story goes as follows: The two love birds Randolph & Jennie, fell so hard for each other, that along the way, Randy sent a picture of Jennie to his father with a long dramatic letter of explanation, in which apparently he said: “I do not think that if I were to write pages I could give you any idea of the strength of my feelings and affection and love for her; all I can say is that I love her better than life itself, and that my one hope and dream is that matters may be so arranged, that soon I may be united to her, by ties that nothing but death itself, could have the power to sever.”

He then went on to say: ‘Mr Jerome is a gentleman who is obliged to live in New York to look after his business. I do not know what it is.

Apparently Mr Jerome was a New York business man who had made and lost several fortunes doing stock arbitrage.

He was a stock jobber, stock picker, promoter, shill extraordinaire and a fabulously wealthy man — when the season was the running of the bulls and the taming of the bears. But as we all know these things change fast. And so do the fortunes of war and love. And of political passions.

And thus came to pass that during the American Civil War, Mr Jerome, the father of Jennie Jerome Churchill, owned and edited the newspaper called then same as today: The New York Times.

Jerome was a passionate supporter of the Northern cause and of Abraham Lincoln, and the Republican party, to which he subscribed and gave large sums for the reelection of Honest Abe Lincoln to the White House.

 

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Yet when the New York war party became discredited in 1862, furious mobs attacked the New York Times office. But Mr Jerome had fortified his position with rifles and cannon and beat off the attacking mob’s violent raid, having shot them full of holes, and thus causing some considerable bloodshed. Well done Mr Jerome. Well Done. Now I finally  understand how Winston Churchill came to order field cannons to be brought in the heart of London to defeat some anarchist holed up inside a small house in White Chapel. He followed after his grandfather Mr Jerome, who in some of his calmer moments, he managed to found the first two great American race-courses, Jerome Park, and Coney Island Jockey Club. He also found the time to get a lady friend pregnant and to marry her, and thus had two daughters, besides Jeanette, both of whom escaped with their mother to Paris, and later having tired of the French suitors as being too soft — hoped across the channel and went and married British subjects. One became the mother of Shane Leslie, the distinguished Irish writer, and the other of Clare Sheridan, the equally distinguished sculptress.

Leonard Jerome was a real life fortune seeker, and a speculator after happiness, money, and success. That is also proven beyond doubt, because Leonard Jerome was a flamboyant and successful stock speculator in the wild West days of the New York Stock Exchange. He had made and lost several fortunes, and was known as “The King of Wall Street.” He held interests in several railroad companies, and was often a partner in the deals of Cornelius Vanderbilt. He was a patron of the arts, and had founded the Academy of Music, one of New York City’s earliest Opera houses. During the New York Draft Riots, Leonard Jerome defended the New York Times office building with a Gatling Gun, sandbag barricades and armed snipers at the windows of the building along with some field artillery, facing the Avenues in both directions.

Yet although he had significant holdings in the New York Times, and he was perhaps the majority shareholder, he had many other stock owning powerful partners, and he was keen to protect their interests, and thus was the one trusted as a leader, to defend and protect the New York Times as the newspaper of record, the as it almost still is now…

 

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The Jerome Mansion, on the corner of Madison Avenue and 26th Street, had a six hundred seat theatre, a breakfast room which seated seventy people, a ballroom of white and gold with champagne and cologne spouting fountains, and a view of Madison Square Park. It was later sold and housed a series of private clubs. The mansion was torn down in 1967. Leonard Jerome was an avid sportsman. He enjoyed yachting with his friend, William K. Vanderbilt. They shared a special passion for thoroughbred horse racing and helped found the American Jockey Club. In the late 1860s, Jerome was part of several hunting trips in the American West. These trips were guided by Buffalo Bill Cody. In 1866, Jerome bought the estate and mansion of James Bathgate near Old Fordham Village in what was then in the very rural Westchester County, but is now called “The Bronx.” Leonard Jerome and financier August Belmont, Sr. built Jerome Park Racetrack on the Bathgate land, and this is where the first Belmont Stakes were held back in 1867. Leonard Jerome and his brother Lawrence had a wide boulevard made from Macombs Dam to the track, which city authorities attempted to name “Murphy Avenue” after a local politician. This incensed Jerome’s wife so much that she had bronze plaques saying “Jerome Avenue” made up and bolted into place along the road, forcing the city to accept the name. The racetrack was acquired and demolished by the city in 1894, to make way for Jerome Park Reservoir. The Bathgate mansion served as a summer home for the Jerome family. In the early 1900s, the mansion was razed and replaced by the Kingsbridge Armory. Jerome became a resident of Brooklyn. Leonard Jerome, then along with Julius Vanderbilt, and other notable investors founded the Coney Island Jockey Club, which in 1884 built the Sheepshead Bay Race Track that held the thoroughbred Astor Cup races, and later became the Jamaica Race Track, and has been converted in the 1950s to the Rochdale village which is still around today, as housing development of fine homes.

Back in the day, Leonard Jerome, finally married Clarissa Hall (1825–1895) in Palmyra, New York on 5 April 1849, and they had four daughters together. One daughter, Camille, died at age eight. The other three – Jeanette, Clarita, and Leonie – became known, in some quarters, as “the Good, the Witty and the Beautiful”. Leonard Jerome’s wealth afforded his daughters the opportunity to spend much time in Europe, where they associated with the aristocratic elite of the day. All three married British or Anglo-Irish husbands: Lady Randolph Churchill (née Jeanette Jerome; known as Jennie) married Lord Randolph Churchill (1849–1895), younger son of the Duke of Marlborough, and was mother to Winston Churchill and John Strange Spencer-Churchill. Clarita Frewen (née Clarita Jerome), known as Clara, married Moreton Frewen (1853–1924), fifth son of Thomas Frewen MP, a charming spendthrift who ran up huge debts trying to operate a ranch in Wyoming, and through gambling, sports, and women. They had two sons, Hugh and Oswald, and one daughter Clare Sheridan. Leonie, Lady Leslie (née Leonie Jerome) married Sir John Leslie (1857–1944), an Irish baronet, whose family estates covered 70,000 acres (280 km2). They had four sons. For many years, she maintained a liaison with Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught and Strathearn. Jerome was also rumored to be the father of the American opera singer Minnie Hauk. He also had an affair in the 1860s with Mrs. Pierre Lorillard Ronalds, then separated from her husband. Mrs. Ronalds later lived in London, where she remained a friend of Jerome’s daughter Jennie.  Mr Jerome continued conquering all manner, and all kinds of ladies, from the polite (?) New York society, well into his late age, and indeed he was not only rich but the proverbial Ladies’ man.

He was somewhat of a prototypical Donald Trump of his day and age but that is also not a politically correct thing to say — yet I trust that you get my drift…

Leonard Jerome died at the age of 73 in Brighton, England. He is buried in the GreenWood Cemetery in Brooklyn.

 

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Yet going back to old Randy the gay-spark of London — it is worth remembering that according to the official biography, the Duke of Marlborough was alarmed by his son’s sudden love affair with a female no less, and also by his threatened precipitous marriageable action, and although Randolph assured him that Jeanette was beautiful, accomplished and rich, and that she moved with the most exclusive society in France, where she lived with her mother — the Duke was not so enthusiastic about his son marrying a person that was completely unknown to him. And especially a young American girl from uncertain lineage, and from profane New York stock. Hear – hear… Therefore the Duke of Marlborough insisted that the young couple must wait, until time proved the value of their affections. Or not… Yet quite wisely, at this first sign of reluctance on the Duke’s part, Mrs Jerome indignantly took her daughter back to Paris and refused to let her see Randolph Churchill.

Indeed Jennie followed her Mother as they left the cosmopolitan vacation spot of Cowes at the Isle of Wight, and didn’t see Randolph again until… the hastily arranged marriage was to take place in Paris.

Apparently a period of frantic letter writing followed, the escape of the Jerome from the Isle of Wight…. And then suddenly the English Parliament was dissolved, and amongst all others, Lord Randolph faced a new electoral contest. That is what the record sets out for us to believe…

Indeed, elections had to be fought; and heartily contested — but not so much in the by-election of Woodstock in Oxfordshire, because in those days only a total of 1,071 people in the Churchill family borough, were eligible to vote. The prime Minister Disraeli’s Act of 1867 had extended the voting franchise to the lower middle class, but the agricultural labourers who made up the bulk of the population of Woodstock, were not included. Today, when the constituency of a Member of Parliament, averages fifty thousand voters, Victorian elections seem leisurely affairs. But evidently Lord Randolph did not think so; because he wrote to Jeanette: ‘My head is in a whirl of voters, committee meetings and goodness knows what. I am glad it is drawing to an end, as I could not stand it very long; I cannot eat or sleep.’

The suspense soon ended with victory for Randolph, and victory for the whole Tory Party. Disraeli displaced Mr Gladstone as Prime Minister. But Lord Randolph was more concerned with his personal triumph. He wrote Jeanette elatedly: ‘There was such a burst of cheers they must have made the old dukes in the vault jump. There is nothing
more to do, but pay the bill which I have left to my father.”

The official story goes that shortly after this election, the Duke of Marlborough and Mr Jerome somehow amicably reached a settlement and both agreed to let the young couple marry. And then why the two young loves, in a fit of passion apparently eloped, and hastily married in Paris, inside the British Consulate, without any witnesses, nor any family members present, to cheer them on — remains unanswered to this day…

Why?

One wonders why…

Perhaps the lady was with child?

Maybe she was “preggers” with somebody else’s bun in her oven?

No matter, because exactly six months after the secret wedding, Lord Randolph brought his new bride to Blenheim to give birth, and she did like clockwork on the seventh month after the wedding day. That little thing out of the way, and with young Winston in diapers, after a few months the newlyweds settled down in a London Mayfair flat, where Jennie Jerome Churchill, soon established herself as one of the most fascinating and popular hostesses in the good society.

 

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Indeed from then on, Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill lived in London for the next two years where they entertained Mr Disraeli, the Prince of Wales, and many other illustrious figures of the day. Lord Randolph dutifully made his maiden speech but he was more interested in the pleasures of life than in Parliament. He attended the House only spasmodically, spending his time at fancy dress parties, society balls, dinners, and weekend excursions.

Then suddenly an event took place which altered the whole course of his life. In his biography of his father Winston Churchill finds an explanation and states this for the record: ‘Engaging in his brother’s quarrels with fierce and reckless partisanship, Lord Randolph incurred the deep displeasure of a great personage. The fashionable world no longer smiled. Powerful enemies were anxious to humiliate him. His own sensitivity and pride magnified every coolness into an affront. London became odious. The breach was not repaired for more than eight years and in the interval a nature originally genial and gay, contracted a stern and bitter quality, a harsh contempt for what is called “Society,” and an abiding antagonism to rank and authority.’

This discreet statement by Mr Winston Churchill was amplified some years later by Lord Randolph’s nephew, Shane Leslie, who explained that the ‘great personage’ with whom Lord Randolph’s brother, Lord Blandford, quarrelled was the Prince of Wales, later Edward VII. The quarrel was over a woman. Lord Blandford had succeeded the Prince in a certain lady’s affections, whereupon the Prince, through pique, encouraged the
lady’s husband to sue for divorce and name Lord Blandford. Lord Randolph was outraged by this behaviour and audaciously intimated that ‘any divorce case would bring to light some friendly letters which had escaped the Prince’s pen and memory’.

But how did Lord Randolph came into possession of a lady’s letters, or could these be some other lady’s romantic letters exchanged with the Prince? A lady like his own wife Jennie Jerome?

No matter what letters Randolph had that proved the Prince’s romantic penmanship – it was daft to threaten the Prince. And as if this was not bad enough — Randy went on to brandish a lady’s love letters from the soon to be King in public, and he threatened to have them published into a newspaper. At the time this was not just scandalous — it was quite unthinkable. These were the points around which the scandal raged, and Randolph had to get out of Dodge city.

Of course there is a much richer subtext but that we will soon come to find out and get to know it in subsequent chapters of the book.

Because surely there must have been some deeper backstory, but in the end, the Prince of Wales, declared that he would not enter any house which had received Randolph Churchill, and as a result all the doors of polite London Society, were firmly shut to the face of the young Churchills. The ban was so severe and complete; and the mutual feelings of animosity ran so high, that the Duke of Marlborough consented to accept the position of Viceroy in Ireland, so that he could take his son Randolph away with him as his own State Secretary, across the Irish sea, and thus save him from himself and from the wrath of the Court, the Crown, and that of the Sovereign, that had turned squarely against him.

Randolph was up creek without a proverbial paddle, but his young son, Winston saw things quite differently.

Indeed Winston Churchill thrived in Dublin, and his earliest memories are of the green parks and the giant commons in beautiful Dublin, where he first fell in love with his long living wet nurse, his Governess, “The Woom” tasked to raise him, in the total absence of his parents attentions. The lovely and buxom Mrs Everest from then on, was always seen walking with baby Winston in her pram, and her towering above everyone else in her wake, made her an accurate representation of the very size of the British Empire, if not Mount Everest itself.

 

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The reason for Winston Churchill growing up in Dublin Ireland, is because just before the young kid was two years old — his father Randolph had a monumental row and a rather serious quarrel with the Prince of Wales, and future king Edward VII. The fight had become so overheated that Randolph’s father and Winston’s grandfather accepted the position of ViceRoy just to get his son out of London and away from a hostile Royal Court, and the court of public opinion stacked firmly against him. Apparently the previous ‘Arrangement’ of covering up for the Princely Concubine, and protecting the ‘Royal Bastard’ in a nice warm and cozy family environment, did not quite “satisfy” Randolph any longer, and he had threatened Prince Edward with Exposure.

We of course know that Randolph held the Prince’s correspondence about this matter, but to expose it to public scrutiny or even publication would have been “murder” seeking for blood. Randolph was indeed quite unthinking in his social miscalculations…

It was then that wiser heads prevailed, and Winston Churchill’s Grandfather ‘The Duke of Marlborough’ dragged his son Randolph and his new bride and fresh grandson, as the whole family to Ireland, because this is where he had accepted the position as Viceroy of Ireland. He did this in a haste, in order to remove his impulsive son Randolph, from the looming storm where he had invoked the serious wrath of the Crown, of Queen Victoria, of the Prince of Wales himself, and of the whole of the Court of St James, and indeed of the whole of the English Aristocracy, and London Society. Exposing and Socially “traumatizing” the Prince, was not something done, or even contemplated, in the English Society of the Victorian Era. It was not done then, nor done at any time before, or even since, and certianly not done today.

So the flaming and rebellious “gayspark” otherwise known as “Randy-homo” would not apply himself to the rules of the day, and thus in order to get Randolph Churchill out of the way, the “Crown” offered him, an official appointment as his father’s the Duke of Marlborough’s Private Secretary. And thus Randolph had to go to Ireland to be with his father and get into fresh company in Dublin, where he would be out of reach of the many journalists. Randolph eager to get out of town having sown wild seeds aplenty left for Dublin and for the Irish wild lifestyle of the city of poets, and he installed himself, and his young family in the ‘Little Lodge’ which is a fine house located inside the park of the Viceroy’s Mansion in Dublin.

It was to prove a great place for young Winston as one adventure followed another in a safe environment.

Indeed one of Winston’s first recollections is the forbidding figure of his grandfather unveiling a statue to Lord Gough, with the thrilling words ‘and with a withering volley he shattered the enemy lines.’

 

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The Churchills did not return to England for nearly three years… Winston was seven years old by then, and soon afterwards Disraeli’s Government came to a surprising end, and Gladstone was again in power. The Grand Old Man’s second administration lasted from 1880 to 1885. Its most important legislation was the Third Reform Bill giving the vote to the agricultural labourers, and the miners. Otherwise he was mainly concerned with the serious problems of Ireland, Egypt, Africa, and the Commonwealth…

The new government’s Tory members took their places on the Opposition benches in a discouraged and uncertain frame of mind. They had been out of power for twenty two years except for one short interval until Disraeli brought them back in 1874. Naturally they wondered: ‘Was this the beginning of another long period in the wilderness?’ It seemed as though Mr Gladstone exercised a magic spell which no one could break.

This was the stage on which Lord Randolph made his entrance.

The five years he had spent in Ireland had whetted his appetite for politics and he was spoiling for a fight. ‘The duty of the Opposition is to oppose.’ he announced, and lost no time in doing so. He was no longer the amiable young man of London society. Many people still refused to receive him in their houses, but now he did not seem to mind. He had developed a hard, cold armour and his tongue had become a formidable weapon.

He at once plunged into the attack. Yet he did not only cross swords with the great Gladstone, but turned on his own leaders as well, ridiculing them for their vacillation and defeatism. With three followers he sat below the gangway in the House of Commons, and carried on his own blistering opposition to the powerful Liberals, regardless of what his party leaders had to say.

 

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This small group became known as ‘The Fourth Party.’

Lord Randolph’s house gradually became a meeting place for all shades of political aspirants, influencers, and of politicians.

Lady Jennie Churchill later wrote: “Many were the plots and plans, which were hatched in my presence by the Fourth Party, who, notwithstanding the seriousness of their own endeavours, found time to laugh heartily and often at their own frustrated efforts.”

She went on to add: “Sometimes to hear Randolph discussing the situation, in ways the uninitiated might have thought the subject was a game of chess. There is no doubt that Lord Randolph and his followers enjoyed themselves. They referred to their respectable, die-hard leaders as the ‘Old Gang’, and derisively nicknamed the weaker members ‘The Goats.’”

Under these circumstances it is small wonder that Lord Randolph was not popular. While he made his strenuous and unorthodox efforts to infuse a new spirit into the Tory Party and bring it back to power, the Tories stood by, always ready to benefit by his success — yet smarting with resentment. “To them” Winston Churchill wrote, “he seemed an intruder, an upstart, a mutineer who flouted venerable leaders and mocked at constituted authority with a mixture of aristocratic insolence and dramatic brutality.”

This was not the only sin of Randolph, but his utterly vulgar displays of his insidious “gay-spark” made him the Oscar Wilde of English Politics. In addition to that he behaved like a cad in all his social contacts and his conduct was seen as unbecoming by all and sundry. His strategy might have been brilliant, or at the very least innovative, but his tactics were certainly not the tactics of an English ‘gentleman.’

On one occasion he wrote a scorching letter to ‘The Times’ criticizing Sir Stafford Northcote’s ‘pusillanimous’ leadership in the House of Commons. His friends begged him not to send the letter, warning him against public disloyalty to his own leader, and reminding him that Sir Stafford had just recovered from an illness, and enjoyed the sympathy and affection of most all English people. Yet Lord Randolph persisted and send the letter that was promptly published. Yet when he entered the House the next day, scarcely a soul would speak to him; and when Sir Stafford rose to ask a question he was greeted by a tremendous ovation.

On another occasion Lord Granville, the Foreign Secretary, criticized Lord Randolph in the House of Lords, and the latter again wrote a letter to The Times; where he accused Granville of ‘the petty malice of a Whig’ and ‘of his usual shamelessness’ that ‘of sneaking down to the House of Lords to make without notice a variety of deliberate misrepresentations, deliberate misquotations and false assertions which were quite in accordance with the little that was known about the public career of Earl Granville, Knight of the Garter, and, to the misfortune of his country, Her Majesty’s principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs’. The Times did print the letter, but devoted a column and a half, to dissociating itself, from the insults and the bad form and horrible taste of the author Sir Randolph Churchill, the “randy-caddy.”

Lord Randolph, however, continued along his sensational path with cold indifference. It must be borne in mind that a majority of the Members of Parliament were the same men who ruled the fashionable world which had turned its back on him. He was paying them back, and showing that he scorned their good will. Gradually he developed a creed for
his small party, borrowed from Disraeli’s political philosophy, which became known as ‘Tory Democracy’. Upon examination there was nothing particularly new in this faith. ‘Tory Democracy,’ Lord Randolph once explained blandly, ‘is a Democracy that votes for the Tory Party.’

 

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Randolph’s tactics were to appeal to the patriotic sentiments of the English working man and to convince him that no one could defend Queen and Country better than the Tories. This was accompanied by a slashing indictment of Mr Gladstone’s handling of Foreign Affairs. But when it came to the acid test, Tory Democracy faltered. Mr Gladstone presented his Bill to extend the vote to the agricultural labourer and Lord Randolph opposed it. ‘As the representative of a small agricultural borough he could not, as he himself said afterwards, be expected to look on a measure for the extinction of Woodstock “with a very longing eye”,’ his son explains somewhat naively. As things turned out the extension of the vote did not mean ‘the extinction of Woodstock’ because Lord Randolph easily won his next election; yet it remains a blot on the career of the Tory Democrat, who toured the country crying: ‘Trust the People’.

Nevertheless whatever he did, it did not seem to affect Lord Randolph’s popularity with the masses who only remembered his popular cry of “Trust the People.” His public meetings were packed, and he went from strength to strength in his speeches. He was always greeted by cries of ‘Yahoo Randy!’ and ‘Give it to ’em hot’ to which he complied with relish. During this period his range of invective was inexhaustible. He called Chamberlain a ‘pinchbeck Robespierre’ and Gladstone a ‘purblind and sanctimonious Pharisee’ and ‘an evil and moonstruck monster’. He accused the Government of ‘treachery and incapacity, of ‘imbecility’, of ‘sinking below the level of slaves’; and he declared that ‘general destruction and all around plunder are alike their pleasure, their duty and their pride.’

By 1884 Lord Randolph was a national figure. A slim man with bulging eyes and a huge moustache, he became the delight of the cartoonists. Although he was of medium height it pleased the artists to picture Him as a diminutive figure; sometimes as Jack the Giant Killer; sometimes as a wasp, a pug dog, a monkey or a down. This publicity served him well and helped to swell the already large, excited crowds. His wife flung herself into the political fray, and even fought an election for him. On this occasion Lady Randolph and her sister-in-law toured Woodstock in a smart tandem with the horses wearing brown and pink ribbons, Lord Randolph’s racing colours. Soon the music halls were singing:

“Bless my soul! that Yankee lady — Whether day was bright or shady;
Dashed about the district like an oriflamme of war.
When the voters saw her bonnet with the bright pink roses on it — they followed her as the soldiers did the Helmet of Navarre.”
[Lord Randolph Churchill: Winston S. Churchill]

As Lord Randolph’s popularity in the country grew, the Liberals attacked him with increasing vehemence. A pamphlet entitled The Woodstock Bantam was published by a Mr Foote, who wrote angrily: “Incessant abuse of Mr Gladstone has been the principal means of Lord Randolph Winston Churchill’s advancement.”

“The Tories hate the great Liberal Chief who is at once it’s Nestor and its Agamemnon; and they are ready to applaud any young jackanapes who will pull him by the beard.”

“Finding how cheap and easy it was to bait Mr Gladstone and what golden honours the performance won among the Conservatives, his lordship flew at the Premier night after night like an impudent bantam.”

“Yet if anything Randolph, when outside of the halls of Parliament, he was even more pugilistic against his political opponents…”

“There is scarcely an epithet in the vocabulary of vituperation which he has not flung at Mr Gladstone from Tory platforms. At recent Woodstock elections his lordship circulated a printed certificate of his good manners from no less a person than Mr Gladstone himself.”

“It was a sign of that great man’s magnanimity but it was also a sign of Lord Randolph Churchill’s consummate meanness. After blackguarding the Liberal chief for years, no one but a miserable sneak would have condescended to have availed himself of an exculpation from the object of his malicious insults.”

 

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In 1885 Mr Gladstone resigned and the Tories formed a Government. Lord Randolph was made Secretary of State for India. A few months later Mr Gladstone again formed a Government; then in the summer of 1886 a General Election took place.

This election was fought on the stormy issue of Home Rule for Ireland, and was one of the most bitter contests that have ever taken place in English parliamentary life. Home Rule was the great dream of Mr Gladstone’s old age; but it split the Liberal Party in two. The dissenters lined up with the Tories and together the ‘Unionists’ as they were called,
scored a sweeping victory.

Historians do not go so far as to declare that without Lord Randolph, the Tory battle would have been lost, yet no one denies that by his forceful rhetoric, and strongly partisan personality, he played a major part in that victory. Lord Salisbury, the Tory Prime Minister, rewarded him by appointing him Leader of the House of Commons, and Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Finally Randolph Churchill was at the top.

 

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However due to his impetuous nature, he did not hold this position for very long. In December 1886, less than six months after, his appointment as Chancellor of the Exchequer, he suddenly resigned. He did not want to resign but he used his resignation lever as an alibi to get what he wanted from the cabinet, when he informed the Prime Minister that unless the Army and Navy cut the amount of money they were spending he would not be able to construct the National Budget, he wished. The Navy acquiesced, but the War Minister stood firm. Lord Randolph had forced his colleague to do as he wished twice before, by threatening resignation; so he reckoned, why not try a third time, particularly when, as Leader of the House of Commons and the greatest platform orator of the day, and his influence was at its zenith?

Three times is the charm, and this much drama in politics is seen as too much…and perhaps belonging to the theatre people but not to gentlemen politicians,  So this time the “Randolph resignation move” failed flat on his face, and he was out of the job, out of the cabinet, and out of the government.

Lord Salisbury cooly accepted his resignation, and that was that. Randolph tried to walk it back but the Prime Minister wouldn’t have any of his gay-spark anymore, because everyone had had quite enough of Randolph to last them a lifetime, over the last six months. Randolph went on garden leave…

The news caused a sensation not only in England but throughout Europe, because the public were astonished and all sorts of rumours began to spread as people insisted there must be a more important reason than the one given in the press. The Tory Party was openly alarmed. Could Lord Salisbury’s administration continue, deprived of the support of its most glittering figure?

However, as it became known that Lord Randolph’s resignation was not based on a great principle, but on a minor disagreement, opinion quickly hardened against him. The Times rebuked him indignantly, declaring that ‘Conservative circles regarded him as highly ‘unpatriotic’;’ and the following day they printed an excerpt from the Vienna Tageblatt, which almost equalled Lord Randolph’s own invective: ‘He is one of those men who will always play second fiddle and play out of tune.’

‘The Continental Cabinets which were astonished and perplexed by his sudden rise, must rejoice that Lord Salisbury has not allowed himself to be dictated to by a mere jackanapes.’ ‘Lord Salisbury’s resignation would have been a very serious thing for Europe; Lord Randolph’s resignation means simply this: ‘A noisy personage, who was never fitted to be a Cabinet Minister, has reassumed his proper part as a political brawler.’

 

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Lord Salisbury’s Government quickly righted itself up, with a better man at the Office of the Exchequer and more public sympathy than before. Practically no voices were lifted in Lord Randolph’s defense, and no one mourned his going out of fashion. Even the Punch magazine, printed a cartoon of a clown walking out of the circus ring, saying:

“I shan’t play any more.”

Underneath was the caption:

‘The Great Little Random’, and the following verse:

“Pet of the Public and pride of the Ring,
Master of excellent fooling,
Beating in pattern and tumble and fling,
Fellows with ten times his schooling,
Great Little Random the company led,
Was it a wonder he went off his head?”

Lord Randolph remained in Parliament, but returned to the backbenches where, only six years before, he had begun his career.

He was never accepted again for his idiosyncratic nature and he tried to hide his sexual nature, his illness, and his deformity, and became quite bitter; so he took a long voyage around the world on a cruise ship. Albeit his deteriorating health due to syphilis, made him take a lead coffin with him — just in case he died while aboard the ship, to be able t be returned to the family seat for burial…

Fate intervened and he fell really sick and cut the cruise short and still he managed to return to England, and in January 1895, at the age of forty-five, after a protracted and lingering syphilitic illness, cerebral meningitis, and all related destructive brain swelling effects, which resulted in paralysis of the brain — Randolph died, and was buried in the chapel yard of Blenheim palace in Oxfordshire.

His son, Winston Churchill, was just twenty years old. And he understood quite well the burden that his non-biological father had to carry around all his Life. Still to this day the world has not accepted Randolph Churchill’s true nature as a Gay man, but I am aiming to get that corrected, by setting the record straight. Mainly because there is truly nothing to be ashamed of, or anything to worry about one’s sexual orientation, nor should there be personal suffering due to illness and disease…

No matter why the disease was contracted and no matter the lifestyle choices of the sufferer. We are still dealing with a sad and unfortunate situation and Randolph was dealt a horrible card from life, and perhaps we ought to sympathize with him for a change instead of throwing him and his life under the carpet. Or under the bus as the situation might demand, in order to please the political factions that want to have a perfect iconography of the origins of Winston Churchill, and thus seek to sanctify the faux-father next to the son as well.

Now we also need to get one other thing straight too:

Being Gay is not a crime, nor a social faux pas, either. It’s just what it is, and whatever way people’s plumbing works — it is ultimately their business and none of ours, or yours.

Yet in the Victorian times this was a jailable offense, and as you might recall one of Randolph Churchill’s best friends, the famed wit Oscar Wilde; had to go to the Old Bailey and serve some serious hard prison time. It was this tough spell of jail time, under harsh conditions, that ultimately weakened Oscar Wilde’s health, and killed him.

So you can understand why Randolph Churchill had to construct a strong barricade around his lifestyle, and had to invent a normal family story, and that is why nobody from those around him, would admit to his gay-spark sexuality. Yet that is also precisely why he found so many insurmountable obstacles during his meteoric rise to power and that is why he had to give up his position as the Minister of Downing Street No 11, the Chancellor of the Exchequer… when the Powers that Be cottoned on to the fact that he was indeed a gay-spark.

It was obvious that after the Chancellorship, Randolph with the power of the masses behind him, would have gone for the Premiership. Yet at that time, Victorian England could not abide with a Homosexual man at the helm of State. And that is why he had to be gotten rid off. One way or another…

Simple as that.

But that was then, and this is now.

Today we are far more accepting of reality, and we have overcome our fears of homosexuality being the scourge of God — and therefore I believe that we could finally tell the truth about old Randolphs’ intimate preferences, and about his many victories, as well as about his all too public defeats, without being bashful about it.

Still there are a lot of people today that want to cover-up this story. But that is a rear guard action, of some erstwhile “Victorians” who have suddenly found themselves to be living in the wrong century…

Capice?

 

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To be continued…

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | June 1, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 19)

MIRACULOUS APPEARANCE AT BLENHEIM PALACE

 

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Today we have come to recognize that no other man than Winston Churchill had a deeper abiding respect for the power of Democracy and its exercise through the Parliamentary procedure of the British House of Commons.

Indeed it was Winston Churchill who observed parliamentary procedure with care, but this did not prevent him from employing his talent for occasionally heaping a measure of abuse and ridicule to his public enemies and to his political opponents, and often while doing this, he managed to whip the Chamber into such an uproar, that the proceedings had to be fully stopped; since the MPs erupted in a giant ruckus and melee, with insults and accusations hurled back and forth across the aisle. Such was the hearty mirth & merriment, along with the occasional blows rained, that the Speaker of the House had to rise-up and threaten the rowdy parliamentarians with the Speakers’ mallet, in order to regain and potentially maintain some semblance of order in the presence of Churchill’s ongoing repertoire of verbal fusillades and biting commentary.

Following one of these hubbubs in 1947, after one of Winston’s well prepared & carefully orchestrated parliamentary scuffles — several letters appeared in the Daily Telegraph deploring the fact that Churchill was not accorded the deference of the Elder Statesman he so duly deserved…

Winston read these accounts with interest, and later shyly remarked that the writers understood very little of this man’s temperament — for if the day ever came when he failed to draw either the fire, or the ire, of the other side, he shall consider his usefulness in Parliament at an end, and will retire to his beloved ChartWell to further his building projects, to write his unfinished books, and finally paint the landscapes he loved.

As a matter of fact Churchill would never give up the House of Commons, for this gave his life a strong sense of purpose, and his daily provocations were often such carefully planned and coordinated intellectual and rhetorical traps, that Labour MPs were instructed by their “Whips” to not interrupt Winston during a debate, so that he will not have the opportunity of getting the better of them, and thus turn them into objects of scorn and ridicule, in front of the public hanging from his mouth in the galleries, the other MPs, and the journalists, who were all attending the House of Commons proceedings wherever Churchill was expected to speak.

So after careful and studied consideration, it would appear that the secret of Winston Churchill’s parliamentary oratorial mastery, was his ability to change the mood of the House at will, and shift the attention of all, always beckoning men at his constant beck, and his carefully calibrated call. And although Churchill could provoke an angry storm at will, he could also turn the storm into roars of laughter by a sudden shaft of wit, and through his use of the light of reason. But we must remember that he always reverted to his favorite image of the sunlit uplands, for the people of Great Britain and the World, hoping to imbue a note of Optimism in all of his speeches for the benefit of his listeners as well as the readers of the papers on the morrow…

Winston’s humor was not the cold, polished variety, of the snobs, or the cynical aristocrats. Indeed Winston’s humor, smacked much more of the humour heard in the Music Halls, in the Circus, and was always laden with comic, impish, even schoolboy jokes, which few
people can resist. As an example in 1939 when he was serving as First Lord of the Admiralty — he spoke with relish about how a destroyer had dropped a depth charge way out at sea, and instead of hitting a submarine and getting an oil slick on top of the sea, some bits of an old wreckage had come to the surface. “And would you believe it” he added with a grin, “there was a door bobbing around with my initials on it! I wanted to recount this important occurrence in a speech, but Mr Chamberlain cut it out.”

He added with a twinkle: “Chamberlain thinks my humor is questionable.”

On another occasion, near the end of the war, when he was reminiscing about his career and the fact that he had changed his Party twice, I remember him startling his luncheon guests by proclaiming solemnly: ‘Anyone can rat but it takes a certain amount of ingenuity to “rerat.”

In the House of Commons his humour often lies in the emphasis and hesitation of his voice. Sometimes he treats the assembly to an act which borders on pantomime.

A few years ago when a Labour Minister rose to speak Mr Churchill suddenly began feeling in his pockets with an air of consternation, then looking down towards his feet. The eyes of the members left tfie speaker and began to follow his puzzling movements, and soon even the people in the Galleries were craning in his direction…
Suddenly with an elaborate start he apologized to the Minister: “I was just looking for my jujube” he explained innocently.

An example of his ability to turn an awkward situation into a humorous one was illustrated recently over the controversy about American and British naval commands. When Churchill was Leader of the Opposition he had attacked the Labour Government hotly for having consented to an American Admiral as Commander of the Atlantic, insisting that the British should have the Atlantic and the Americans the Mediterranean.
When, however, he lost the arguments about the Atlantic he dismissed the reasons he had advanced about the advantages of an American in the Mediterranean and insisted that the Mediterranean must remain under British control. The Socialists could not resist baiting him about his change of mind.

In order to force him into a corner, one of them asked him to state categorically whether or not his views were the same now as they had been twelve months previously.

“My views” he began . . . “Change” interjected a Socialist. “My views” he continued placidly, “are subject to a harmonious process which keeps them in relation to the current movements of events.”

Even the Labour benches could not refrain from laughter.

 

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Time of course did mellow Winston Churchill and along the way he lost his restlessness while his greatness increased and thus he also softened the antagonism of his opponents. Yet he never forgot that as a young man, and for many years during his days in exile in the ‘wilderness” he was the only leading parliamentarian who was far from popular in all circles of government and intelligentsia and even amongst his colleagues in the party he served.

And in that way, Trump is a bit like him today, because both men are romantics at heart. Scratch enough and deep down you shall find the boy that seeks approval from his otherwise occupied and faraway distant parents. Indeed it was part of Winston’s romanticism from his earliest days, that he believed he had been put upon earth to fulfil some great purpose and to save his people. Of course this pre-sentiment led him into many disastrous blunders, for he was not merely ambitious as other men are, but openly and impatiently in search of Fame. As a result he gave the impression of seizing issues indiscriminately in order to project himself into the limelight.

No man in public life seemed to have a greater facility for veering from the role of the statesman to that of the politician, than Winston Churchill. That s until today, that Donald Trump has surpassed this admittedly high bar…

Indeed, as recently as 1945 Churchill gave a striking example of this dual capacity, by opening the election campaign with the sensational warning that Socialism would mean ‘a Nazi state’ and ‘a Gestapo. And just as late as yesterday President Donald Trump reverted to his Twitter to criticize Hillary Clinton for her playing the “blame-game” with all and sundry but never crediting him with a qualified win and accepting her failure and dismal loss.

But in Winston’s day, people were shocked because they remembered the many tributes he had paid to Atlee, Morrison, Bevin and other Socialist leaders when they were serving in his wartime coalition Government only a few weeks before, Churchill turned on them so wildly in order to collect votes. Some folks thought this was considered un-English…

But these people forgot that everything goes in Love & War.

Of course one could not help recalling the lines H. G. Wells who once wrote: “There are times when the evil spirit comes upon him and I think of him as a very intractable, a very mischievous, dangerous little boy, a knee-worthy litde boy.” And this would equally apply to Donald Trump and to Winston Churchill as well as to many Great Men who romance the Public Admiration and want to keep it that way…

Somebody else had this gem of wisdom: “Only thinking of him in that way, can I go on liking him.”

Winston Churchill’s egotism and impetuosity filled the public with a deep distrust, which proved almost a fatal stumbling block to him for nearly four decades, because people became convinced that he was less interested in a cause for its merits, than as a vehicle for his own quite personal ambitions; and also for the fact that he changed his party twice and was seen as always seeking personal advantage. This did not help to dispel this impression of jingoism for Churchill, but at least seasoned him for being the ultimate lone wolf leader the likes of which the world had not seen for quite a while. And now we have Trump to trump this image too…

Same as they do today for President Trump — back in the day Winston’s opponents branded him as a cynic and an opportunist, while his colleagues, disconcerted by the fact that he found it difficult to serve as a member of a team, tried to sidestep him. Yet his basic instinct was always to jockey ahead of all others, to place himself at the helm, and to reach out for the reins, and that made them to openly refer to him as ‘a troublemaker.’

Churchill never got accustomed to this title of “troublemaker” and certainly never accepted the perceived “unpopularity” since he was so loved by all who knew his great and gracious soul. His magnanimity of spirit was so extra large that he held malice for nobody, and even his detractors could count on a few good words coming at them from his own mouth when they were down at the bit… Still Winston was genuinely hurt and astonished by the animosity he aroused, for he was always so absorbed by his projects, his various causes, and his plans to save the world, that he gave very little thought to the complexities of human nature, or to the necessity of avoiding stepping on people’s toes, and trying to not act like a rampant bull inside the China shop.

Indeed he v=never walked on eggshells, because it was always the battle of ideas that interested him, and not the battle of people and personality conflicts. He was above all the pettiness and the drama, so much that as a result his legendary lack of reactions to the efforts of all others to get a rise out of him — failed. This Salomon-like coolness and his Buddhist impassioned attitude, further enraged his fellow human beings who invariably were hoping for a “rise” from Churchill, and thus they hurled upon him heaps of insults and hate. Of course this came as a complete surprise to Churchill who once said that people around him were far too aggressive and prone to unnecessary violence. Still regardless of all the surrounding drama, Winston Churchill himself was sometimes moody and preoccupied, at other times tactless and aggressive, so much so, that he frequently wounded sensibilities without even knowing that he had done so.

Once he cried out mournfully: ‘I have never joined an intrigue. Everything that I have got I have fought for. And yet I have been more hated than anybody!’

 

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These protests came from the heart, for Churchill himself is remarkably free from malice. His lack of interest in the human element eliminates all pettiness from his nature, and his Sudden, unexpected, emotional surges of generosity have disarmed more than one opponent. Once when Ernest Bevin was Foreign Minister he paid Churchill a heartfelt tribute in the House, and the latter was so moved he could not keep back the tears. On more than one occasion during the 1945-51 Parliament, when Mr Atlee was Prime Minister, Churchill entered the smoking-room, sometimes after a particularly acrimonious debate, saw ‘Clement Atlee’ sitting at a table, promptly joined him and congratulated him on his speech.

Members also remember how in 1951, when his most formidable critic, Mr Aneurin
Bevan, opened the Defence Debate, he sat attentively in his place admiring the brilliance of the speech. Then Mr Bevan began to liken some of his methods to those of the Nazis. Churchill put up his hand in protest “I had nothing to do with the Nazis he beamed. Do not spoil a good speech now.”

Once, when Churchill visited his old school, Harrow — the boys asked him who he thought was the greatest man who had ever lived?

‘Julius Caesar’ he replied, ‘because he was the most magnanimous of all the conquerors.’

Wilfrid Scawen Blunt describes his aquaintance of Churchill in this way:
“‘I first met Winston Churchill in the beginning of 1938, when his political career was at one of its lowest ebbs. He was not a member of the Government for although his colleagues recognized his ability they were deeply suspicious of his ‘unreliability’ and his ‘exhibitionism.’

‘The trouble with Winston,’ people said, ‘is that you never know what he will do next.’ But despite his exclusion from power, he was still the most colourful and controversial figure in English political life. People just sat in the gallery of the House of Commons for hours, and watched the Chamber crowd for hours, in order to just hear him speak.

In the distance he looked extraordinarily old-fashioned in his black coat, his winged collar and bowtie, and even his rolling prose suggested a more leisurely and cultivated century. But what he had to say was not of the past; when he leaned forward to warn his colleagues of the dangers of Nazi Germany he became the incarnation of a pugnacious and perennial John Bull. You felt the imagination of the House stir with the brilliance of
his words, but unfortunately the magic ended with his eloquence. When you went into the tea-room half an hour later you heard people chattering about what he had said with an alarming light-heartedness.’

Churchill spent most of his time at his country house, Chartwell in Kent, and one Sunday his son went there with the journalist Virginia Crowley for lunch and she reported it thus: “I remember being surprised by his round pink face. I had not expected such a formidable man to have such a cherubic appearance.”

“Later I heard that a woman had once told him that her baby looked like him, to which he replied firmly: ‘All babies look like me.’ I was also surprised by the fact that even in
private conversation his phrases were as rounded and polished as when he is speaking in the House. He delighted in the use of such Victorian expressions as ‘I rejoice’, ‘I am greatly distressed’ and ‘I venture to say’, which were emphasized by the impediment in his speech that prevented him from pronouncing distinctly the letter V.”

“During lunch the conversation centred on world affairs and Mr Churchill talked with the brilliance I had expected but I later learned that I was lucky, for often he is absorbed with his own thoughts and makes no attempt at conversation. Small talk does not interest him; it is a question of silence or a monologue, or a discussion about important pivotal matters, and nothing in between. On this day, however, he expressed his fear that England would not only refuse to show her hand until it was too late to avoid war, but also too late to win: “Mr Chamberlain can’t seem to understand that we live in a very wicked world.”

He went on to say: “English people want to be left alone, and I daresay a great many other people want to be left alone too. But the world is like a tired old horse plodding down a long road. Every time it strays off and tries to graze peacefully in some nice green pasture, along comes a new master to flog it a bit further along.”

The journalist who visited the ChartWell household for lunch before the Second World War, continues the story by saying: After lunch I was taken upstairs to see his large, high-ceilinged, oak-beamed study. Churchill showed me several stacks of manuscript of the history of the English-speaking people which he was then writing and he said: “I doubt if I shall finish it before the war comes.”

“And if I do, the part the English-speaking people will play will be so decisive, I will have to add several more volumes.”

He paused: “And if it is not decisive; no more histories will be written for many years.”

“One had an impression of restlessness, pounding energy, and a prodigious capacity for work. In the course of the afternoon I was shown the goldfish pond (fish are one of Winston Churchill’s hobbies), the swimming pool and the cottages, all of which he had built with his own hands. I was also shown another cottage that he had turned into a studio and which was filled with pictures he had painted. In 1951 Sir John Rothenstein, the Director of the Tate Gallery, and one of the foremost art critics in England, paid him the compliment of saying: ‘Had the fairies stuck a paint brush into his hands, instead of a pen into one and a sword into the other, had he learnt while still a boy to draw and to paint, and had he dedicated an entire laborious lifetime to art, Winston Churchill would have been able to express himself, instead of one small facet He would have painted big pictures.'”

Churchill, however, regarded painting as a recreation, not as hard work. In 1949 he commented to Rothenstein, ‘If it weren’t for painting I couldn’t live; I couldn’t bear the strain of things.’” [My Diaries: Wilfrid Scawen Blunt] & [Hansard: 15 February, 1951]

Although Winston Churchill has a reputation for enjoying luxury, few men have devoted their lives more completely to intellectual pursuits. He has never moved in social circles; idle conversation or aristocratic companionship has never had an appeal for him. Throughout his life his closest friends have all been men from humble backgrounds who have made their own way to the top; Lloyd George, ‘F. E.’ Smith, ‘Prof Lindemann and Brendan Bracken. It was indeed Churchill who recommended the last two, Lord Cherwell and Lord Bracken, for peerages.

Churchill at his maturity often attended official functions, but he rarely could be persuaded to spend a weekend away from home. He was devoted to his wife, and idolized by his children, and is very much the master of the household.

The one thing he always insisted upon was his need for silence when he was writing or painting, and his basic comforts when his ideas were to be discussed around the dinner table, or during a country walk, or in his study, or in the the library, or smoking and drinking amongst friends in the drawing rooms. He always had numerous and friendly staff, but often times he escaped everybody’s attentions and left them all in a lurch. If he could help it, he always tried to travel without a valet, such as the occasion permits. We know that he was unafraid to place himself in harm’s way and yet when he was a famous person he had to have some security, but often times he ditched his ‘minders’ and traveled alone as best he could.

Of course we know of his lonely marches as an escapee and a “wanted man” “Dead or Alive” in South Africa, after his escape towards freedom from the concentration camp for the captured British soldiers, and his solo train ride hidden under sacks of coal…

And we also know a little about his lonely journeys through Germany before the war and about his fact finding missions, when he traveled alone amidst the enemies and behaved as a proper Spy would… It is impossible to think that Winston could pass surreptitiously as a quiet tourist or even as a disinterested local but somehow he pulled it off.

 

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Yet a more apocryphal story is the one that describes how just before the second world war, Winston Churchill was traveling by himself all over pretending to be gadding about Europe, but in reality using his critical eyes to assess the situation, and once he arrived at Maxine Elliott’s villa in the South of France all by himself, and rather disarmingly and innocently said to his hostess with a broad grin: ‘My dear Maxine, you have no idea how easy it is to travel without a servant. I came here all the way from London alone, and it was quite simple.’

‘Winston, how brave of you,’ replied Miss Elliott, having no idea of the extent of his “alone” travels through the whole of Europe by trains, airplanes, and automobiles. He loved traveling because back in his school days, Winston was raised as any young boy of classic English aristocratic upbringing and was always shunting around various train destinations going to distant holidays, various boarding schools, and foreign countries, all by himself.

But he always loved returning to the Blenheim palace which is one of the great houses of England, since it was built nearly two hundred and fifty years ago with money voted by Parliament as a princely home for John Churchill, the first Duke of Marlborough, whose military genius saved Europe from the domination and the tyranny of the authoritarian French Emperor Louis XIV.

From that time to this day, the palace has been occupied by the dukes of Marlborough and in 1950 its present owner announced that on certain days of the week the Great Hall and the West Wing would be open to the public. Since then thousands of sightseers have strolled across the rolling green parklands and wandered through the house inspecting the priceless tapestries and murals, the wonderful carved ceilings, the gold and silver
work, the china and the furniture wrought in the days of Queen Anne.
Many of these tourists write their impressions in a ‘Suggestions Book’ in the chapel, and it is amusing to notice that whereas the English visitors usually comment on the beauty of the treasures, many of the Americans remark on what a privilege it has been to see ‘the home of Mr Winston Churchill.’

Blenheim palace, of course, has never been Winston Churchill’s ‘home. His father, Lord Randolph Churchill, was the third son of the seventh Duke of Marlborough, and lived in the palace from the age of eight until he married. The estate eventually passed to his eldest brother, and then in turn to his nephew, and is now in the possession of Winston Churchill’s second cousin, the tenth Duke.

Strictly speaking Winston arrived in the world as the poor relation of a great ducal family. Nevertheless from the very first he asserted himself and with a fine disregard for propriety he managed to be born at Blenheim, on the day and time of the St Andrews festive ball nonetheless.

The circumstances of his birth were unusual. His mother, a beautiful, vivacious young bride, was by her accounts, seven months with child. She loved gaiety and against the advice of her doctors insisted on attending the St Andrew’s Ball, held at Blenheim on the night of the 30th of November. In the middle of the evening she was rushed from the ballroom to the cloakroom where, amidst a setting of silk hats, velvet capes and feather boas, she gave birth to Winston. This story was told by Sir Shane Leslie, who heard it from his mother, Lady Leslie, Lady Randolph Winston Churchill’s sister…

This fact has caused the owner of Blenheim a certain amount of embarrassment. For although Winston’s birthplace was once the bedroom of the first Duke’s chaplain, Dean Jones, it is more suitable as a cloakroom than a boudoir. It is on the ground floor, small and plain, overlooking a sunless well. It has been fitted with a modest bed and a few pieces of furniture, and when the tourists file through one always sees looks of
surprise, and hears whispered comments on the disappointing lack of regality. The present Duke has criticized Winston’s lack of showmanship in failing to arrive in the Yellow Room, or some other suite, which could be shown off to his manor’s best advantage.

 

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Winston’s birth was announced by “The Times” in a single line: ‘On the 30th of November at Blenheim Palace, the Lady Randolph Churchill, delivered prematurely, a son.’

The happy event caused excitement among many members of the Churchill family who interpreted the circumstances of Winston’s birth at St Andrew’s celebratory memorial day, as an omen that one day this young ruddy faced and plump baby, would succeed to the Marlborough title. Although this prediction did not come true, the accident of his birth had a profound effect on his character and outlook. It aroused in him a passionate interest in Blenheim palace and its history, and a veneration for tradition and continuity which developed into a fierce family pride. The two heroes of his youth, about whom he later wrote biographies, were men whose blood he assumed flowed in his own veins too; the first Duke of Marlborough, and that brilliant, erratic Victorian statesman, his own family’s father.

The fact that both of these men had lived in Blenheim palace where Winston had so unexpectedly “intruded” did not make him dream of inheriting the Marlborough title or the palace riches, but of being the true heir to the military genius existing in the Victor of the battle of Blenheim, the founding title holder Duke of Marlborough, the father of his lineage, and the builder of the Blenheim palace, where Winston also had been born into. And as the latest Churchill to arrive on the scene — he somehow felt that he had a special obligation and a special mission to attain; thus he found a strong purpose for his Life early on.

Actually, the first Churchill about whom anything much is known was the son of a lawyer and the grandson of a blacksmith. He was born in 1620 and grew up in the county of Dorset; like his descendant of today he was a soldier, a writer, and a member of Parliament, and his name was Winston. He was a passionate supporter of Charles the First, and in the Civil War took part in the fighting at Lansdowne House and Roundway Down, where he was wounded.

When the Parliamentarians triumphed he was a ruined man and spent thirteen years bringing up a large family under the poverty-stricken roof of his mother-in-law, Lady Drake, a sister of the Duke of Buckingham. Nevertheless he occupied himself in doggedly writing a long and laborious book entitled Divi Britannia in which he traced from ‘the year of the world 855 downward the Divine Right of Kings, insisting that the monarch should have the power to levy taxes without consulting Parliament, an idea which, even in those days, caused some astonishment. When the Restoration came and Charles II ascended the throne Winston’s fortunes took a turn for the better. He was awarded a knighthood and allowed to place one of his daughters at Court. Whether he considered this due recompense is not known, for he had despairingly emblazoned on his coat-of-arms the motto, ‘Faithful but Unfortunate’.

Lord Macaulay refers to Sir Churchill in his History of England, as a poor Cavalier Baronet who haunted Whitehall and made himself ridiculous by publishing a dull and affected folio, long forgotten, in praise of monarchy and monarchs. Nevertheless, Sir Winston produced three remarkable children. One was Arabella, who became the mistress of James the Second and bore him a son, the Duke of Berwick, who was one of the great generals of Louis XIV, another was a George Churchill who rose to be an admiral in the British Navy, the third was John Churchill, the first Duke of Marlborough, who proved himself one of the greatest soldiers of all time.

It is not surprising that the Churchill of today should have been thrilled by the story of the Duke, for there is no more fabulous character in English history.

In 1688 England embarked on a war which soon involved all the civilized countries of the world and lasted, with one brief period of peace, for a quarter of a century. This war was not only fought to defend the Protestant faith but to prevent Louis XIV from bringing all Europe under his control, thus destroying the independence of England.

It was as perilous a struggle as the war against Hitler, and for ten campaigns stretching over the years, John Churchill led the armies of Europe. ‘He never fought a battle which he did not win nor besieged a fortress which he did not take’. . . . ‘Nothing like this can be seen in military annals.’ Thus wrote the present day Churchill: ‘Until the advent of Napoleon, no commander wielded such widespread power in Europe.’

‘Upon his person centred the union of nearly twenty confederate states.’ ‘He held the Grand Alliance together no less by his diplomacy than by his victories.’ ‘He rode into action with the combinations of three-quarters of Europe in his hand. His comprehension of the war extended to all theaters of battle, and his authority alone secured design, and concerted action.’ . . . ‘He was for six years not only the Commander-in-Chief of the Allies, but, though a subject, virtually Master of England.’

The Duke of Marlborough has been described by his contemporaries as ‘cold and proud and ‘the handsomest man in Europe.’ ‘His powerful position invited bitter attack, and for years the Tories blackened his name while the Whigs only defended him with indifference.’ ‘He was accused of avarice, immorality, corruption and even treachery; and long after he died — scurrilous stories were repeated by famous writers; which for many years prevented his countrymen from according him his just due.’ ‘Twice he was dismissed from his offices, once by King William who believed that he was intriguing against him, and once by Queen Anne who listened to tales of corruption, but both times he was later reinstated.’ ‘Through all his vicissitudes he had the support of his beautiful, dynamic wife, Sarah. The passionate feelings of these two through nearly fifty years of married life constitute one of the great love stories of history.’ ‘When Sarah was widowed at the age of sixty-two, the wealthy Duke of Somerset proposed to her, and she made her famous reply: ‘If I were young and handsome as I was, instead of old and faded as I am, and you could lay the empire at my feet, you should never share the heat and hand that once belonged to John, Duke of Marlborough.’

 

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After Marlborough’s victory at Blenheim in 1704, Queen Anne made him a gift of fifteen hundred acres at Woodstock, a few miles from the city of Oxford, and Parliament approved the sum of 24,000 for the building of a house. It was arranged that the quit-rent of the palace would be ‘one standard, or colours, with fleur-de-luces painted thereupon’,
presented at Windsor Castle every August on the anniversary of the Battle of Blenheim. This custom is still observed today, and when Winston Churchill wrote his brilliant life of Marlborough he paid his forbear an added tribute by carefully dating the foreword of each volume, August the 13th.

When Marlborough died he left no son and the title passed through his daughter to his grandson whose family name was Spencer. In 1817 the Marlborough family, received permission to add “Churchill” to their name, and since that time members of the family have styled themselves Spencer-Churchill, or the other way around.

For a century and a half the Dukes of Marlborough and their Churchill kinfolk, had led surprisingly uneventful lives. They passed their days as undistinguished members of the landed gentry occupying themselves with the traditional duties of the agricultural aristocracy.

Not until 1874 did the pulse of Blenheim quicken with excitement, as once more it felt adventure in the air, because that was the year that Lord Randolph Churchill, a younger son of the seventh Duke of Marlborough, stood as a candidate for Woodstock and was elected to Parliament. And that was also the year that he brought his American bride to Blenheim palace in Oxfordshire to show her the countryside and his original home.

Jenny Jerome Churchill, describes the adventure as follows: “As we passed through the entrance archway and the lovely scenery burst upon me,” she wrote, “Randolph said with pardonable pride, ‘This is the finest view in England.’

“Looking at the lake, the bridge, the miles of magnificent park studded with old
oaks . . . and the huge stately palace, I confess I felt awed…”

“But my American pride forbade the admission.”

 

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To be continued…

Posted by: Dr Pano Kroko Churchill | May 31, 2017

What Would Winston Churchill Do? (Chapter 18)

EUROPEAN HOLIDAYS

There are parallels between the Second Greek-Persian War fought between the free and democratic Greek City States and the Autocratic Despotic Persians of two thousand years ago — and the Second World War, fought between England and her Allies, arrayed against Germany and her Axis of Evil allies. This is somewhat similar to the parallels between the Second Cold War that we are presently prosecuting against the North Koreans, and their puppet masters, the Chinese communists, and the inter-war years between the First and the Second World Wars of this past century when we were fighting the Soviet Communists and their Allies.

We always like to think in Historical terms, because we are all changing and think that we are different and that our times are unique, yet while today it is the Chinese Communists who attempt to disguise their military buildup and their blood-red ideology, with a sheen of a free market economy, and soft power pretenses at dialogue — it is ourselves who are falling asleep to that old lullaby too Pacifism, that soothed us and put us to sleep, during the times of those earlier crises. Yet we all know today that the Chinese promote the fake Peace initiatives, as their Belt & Road infrastructure plans, and their economic development plans in the Third World, along with their Soft Power infusions, just in order to guide all the people to fall for their fakery. And they need to do this, in order to mask their militaristic ambitions, their communistic flavor of central economic planning, their central command, and the totalitarian single party system of governance — but above all else, in order to appease their Western critics. And they do it in the same way and with the same success as Hitler did back when he was the quietly rearming Germany while appeasing all her critics, and even using the Royal families of Europe and even by recruiting the failed King of England. Hitler with Von Ribbentrop managed the Duke of Windsor, like putty in their hands, and spread their message of Fake Pacifism, which gained them enough valuable time, and resources, in order to fully rearm, and go on to destroy Europe, and the whole of the world, all over again.

And all that led to bloody mayhem and destruction just two short decades after the First World War bloodbaths the Huns had unleashed upon the sleepy ancient continent of Europe…

That is why I am saying now that any relaxation of our vigilance in support of Liberty, means that the Chinese tyrannical & illiberal system will continue to work well at our expense. And that is why leaders like President Xi and the members of the Chinese Politburo, or the Russian Vladimir Putin and his intimate circle, or the Islamic state militants and the ISIS caliphate losers, and all the others who worship cultures of submission and subjugation of the human spirit to the level of the ants, see war as a need. Or at least they see it as a nice vehicle to reach “Paradise” but ultimately it is a vast trouble and at times an irrelevancy to the Free Spirit and the Free Will, we share at the Anglo-Saxon world, and to the Free Will, that we are endowed with, through the Greco-Roman Christian tradition.

As for today’s hue and cry about the “Reds” inside our Republic of the United States is nothing more than a fake news story about the “hacking” of our elections during the pseudo-fight between the political correctness brigade of the DNC plantation politics conceived from leaders of the Democratic party of Evil exclusively for snowflakes — and also about the stupidity of the Republican party, the party of those who can’t shoot straight.  Still for the sane of us, thank God we have Donald Trump who is somewhere in the middle too… And Thank God that Trump comes across as another good “shopkeeper” like President Truman who likes the Liberty of Free Minds, and Free Markets. And thus the free minded, and free thinking Peoples of the Free World, have finally gotten a Leader who can offer some measure of respite from their oppressors of both political parties inside America, and of all other appeasers and oppressors worldwide.

The winds of change blow as the sands of time shift and fall through the bottle neck in the hourglass of History.  Yet indeed it is this hourglass of History that defines the amazing bottleneck of change, same as every time an “Appeaser” tries to block the comic change by obfuscating the flow and the course of the sands of time. And this is exactly when we suffer that terrible traffic jam of the blocked sands of time, that invariably results in horrible bloodshed and mayhem, for humanity.

Mark my words on this, and if you test the veracity through the historical record, you might find why ideologies die like those moths circling the candle light in the midst of summer. And especially mark my truthfulness if you are one of those “moths” and the snowflakes, who come close to the flames of reality and catch fire and then go down with wings alight, like a doomed airplane.

Yet this is the cauldron of fire that our ideologies always go through too… and that’s how we separate the true gold form the fool’s gold too.

Because political ideologies, get smelly and go bad, just as fast as the fish sitting out at the fishmongers’ shopfront marble slab, do. Surely, some more vintage issue ideologies stay fresh a bit longer, but most of them still come up short, and go out to the trash-heap of history. Sure they get recycled, with the frequency of the seasonal fashion changes as seen upon the semi-annual runways of Milan and Paris, showcasing the slender clothes-hangers walking up and down the runways of the famed houses of “Haute Couture” in the capitals of fashion and vogue — and they carry about as much weight as they do. That is … not very much.

Only the truly foundational principled ideals that are based on Humanity’s useful core beliefs, can stand the test of time. Contrast that to the popular ideologies of today like Socialism recycled from Hitler’s national socialism, that rhapsodize the masses, and their impact on our lives, and realize that You and Yours, don’t matter as much, as a worker ant.

Yet it is these ideologies that gain spectacular appeal like Bernie Sanders in the US and then go out like an asteroid impacting our atmosphere. Hopefully they go out like pop songs, that get forgotten in the 8track cassette libraries of yore, and not like the asteroids that leave an impact like that which wiped out the dinosaurs.

 

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Therefore don’t trust ideologies and ideologues because they too change with the prevailing winds and weather patterns, but do trust the True Leaders of Men who work hard with courage in their hearts and go on to write History for the rest of you…

That’s how the Camelot was born and is carried on to this day…

And because history is a fickle mistress, very much like the lady fortune, and the personal fortitude required in order to be able to write it — we need something more than what the run of the mill Leaders of Men can bring along to the fight. We need visionary leadership and the skills of Statesmanship in action, in order to have solid leaders who can write History large, in the battlefield of honor, and in the battleground of ideas, even using their own blood as ink and their courage as their pen. This is how history is fueled through the courage of leading the brigades of thought and action. Still the key ingredient is Vision, because only visionary Leaders truly see ideology as subservient to the historical moment. And indeed only this type of Man or Woman can rise up to become the leader that takes the chestnuts out of the fire, and through their life risking charge at distinction and honor, can truly change the flow of history and the route of the time they live in.

So whether we compare Lenin to George Washington, or we compare Mao to Stalin, and in more recent times, we compare Putin to Trump — we should always be keen to seek the truth without ideological lenses blinding us to the light. It has to be an assessment that will hopefully reveal the real human beings behind the facade. Because we need to discover who are the Men and Women behind the cultivated images of “canonization” and “sainthood” cultivated specifically by the image makers and the propagandists for the position they occupy, as heads of state, and as leaders. Yet we can truly see the essence, only when totally bereft of any ideology that they might have espoused and used as a vehicle to reach the pinnacle of success.

And the reason that we do this, is only because we get to know the person that writes the history without caring so much for the elevated vestiges of the authority and the coloration of the flag that this person carries, or even the ideological banner they support and the people they serve.

The eternal proof of this is in the pudding, as when we compare Winston Churchill as a leader and a person to Adolf Hitler when seen in the context of their titanic contest. This is the comparison that would not have been written if these two men were not “who” they truly were defined in their conflict with each other.

Of course Winston Churchill had prophesied that “A Leaders of the type of Hitler” would arise out of Germany after the humiliating Versailles Treaty that was forced upon the German people, at the end of the First World War. He had predicted this “eventuality” on the eve of the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, ending the First World War in his usual musings that came to sound like another Delphic oracle, and he shared this with his intimates and friends, same as he delivered this in his Parliamentary speeches on numerous occasions when the Versailles Treaty was discussed in the British Parliament. This was the Vision that Winston processed because Churchill saw the Allies as being niggardly and not magnanimous in Victory. And indeed that was surely the case after the First World War, and that is why Winston Churchill called for a degree of magnanimity during the one sided negotiations of the Paris Peace Conference. Because at that pivotal time only Winston Churchill and his friend the economist John Maynard Keynes, seemed to fully understand the long term repercussions of an “Iron Treaty” forced upon Germany. And they truly predicted the Hitlerian outcome, at the Versailles Treaty negotiations on Paris, because the terms were too harsh for any country to bear, and they became a “Carthaginian-Peace-Treaty” instead of a rebuilding tool, for Europe and for the vanquished German people.

Yet Churchill and Keynes cooperated and both men tried hard to have an impact on the Paris Peace Conference — they failed to sway any conferees to their point of view, that inevitably the massive reparations forced upon Germany were so excessive and counter-productive, that would soon lead Europe to another devastating war. For us to understand this point of view today, and to see how far the victorious Allies were out of sync with reality — we ought to recall that the Allied side with French Marshal Ferdinand Foch at it’s helm, criticized the Versailles Peace Treaty as “treating” Germany too leniently. And to get a further measure of how wrong the French can be on occasion, when they truly want to be wrong — today we have French President Macron negotiating with President of Russia Vladimir Putin at the same Palace of Versailles where he insists that France is a good destination for travel for the Russian people as if inviting the Russian mechanized divisions to come pay a visit to Paris…. Why not say what Mr Putin probably thinks: “Peter the Great visited Paris, and so can I.” Yet he must be thinking that he might bring along a million soldiers and his war toys, along with tanks, and air cover, just to see what kind of fun he can have when his Russian comrades start liberating Paris from their German overlords, once again…

Yet at the time of the Versailles Treaty, it was only the Americans, through President Woodrow Wilson that had put forward Fourteen Points of interest, that represented the liberal position of Winston Churchill at the Paris Peace Conference. And although this move helped shape world opinion in opposition to the disgraceful Treaty of Versailles — it remained a simple strategy initiative. Sadly the fourteen points came to be viewed as mere suggestions, simply because President Wilson failed to have any real impact on the Conference’s eventual outcome. And this was mainly because Wilson was being far too partisan in his efforts on behalf of safety, security, and a long term peace, for Europe. Yet although he failed — he was correctly concerned with rebuilding the European economy, encouraging self-determination, and promoting free trade. Wilson wanted to accomplish all this, by creating appropriate mandates for former colonies, and above all else, by creating a powerful League of Nations that would ensure the peace. He failed in delivering any of this magnificent vision, due to his wildly partisan and divisive position amongst the American public, and also amongst the European leaders.

The US President Wilson however, alone amongst the convened leaders, had seen the “Vision” and thus supported Winston Churchill’s correct position, in total opposition to the harsh treatment of Germany. This was because President Wilson very much like Churchill correctly saw the rebuilding of Germany towards becoming a strong nation again, as a deterrent to the newly erected Soviet Communism. This was the proper identification of a threat, that the newly inaugurated Soviet Communism represented for the Free World, and both men understood the need to make every effort that would pacify Europe over the long term by creating the necessary balances of powers. Yet the Wilsonian and Keynes-Churchill position, was quickly out-manoeuvered by those leaders of the Allies, who wanted to appease Britain and France’s bellicosity of their National Leaders, that were now in the position of victory against the vanquished German foe, and wanted to extract their “pound of flesh.”

But this was not a play and a pound of flesh extracted from a nation in whole is not at all like the Merchant of Venice Shakespearian theatre might have been. This was a looming disaster of a Peace Treaty that would perpetuate the imbalances that had brought War to Europe in the First place. A war that had indeed grown to include the whole world although it started as a European war of economic and military imbalances…

So the Versailles Peace Treaty was a singular failure, and maybe this failure was President Wilson’s fault, because in the Paris Peace Treaty negotiations, he was not forceful, since he only brought with him his top Democratic party intellectuals as advisors, and refused to include any prominent Republicans or Conservatives in the American delegation. This political error made all his efforts seem partisan, and one sided and this caused the defeat of the Treaty in the US and that is why in due turn it failed to get ratified by Congress, and also his position failed to get any traction in the Paris Peace Conference.

This situation is truly similar to what is going on today with the partisan “Paris Accord” o Climate Change that President Trump cannot abide by because his predecessor used a vastly partisan machinery to get the United States to become part of this surely one sided deal that was fashioned hastily and that does not serve the interests of the United States nor does it serve the interests of the Planet and it’s Peoples.

The Paris Climate Accord is just as much a silly deal as the Versailles Treaty was. Take my word on that because I ought to know rather well what this idiotic Paris Agreement contains, having been the head of the Environmental Parliament for more than two decades, and having participated in the whole series of the United Nation Conferences Of the Parties, that led to this faulty agreement. Amongst all the Conference of the Parties “COP” efforts over the last twenty plus years, towards reaching a global Climate Change agreement – only the Copenhagen Accord was a stand out. But today is easy to see that anything would have been better that this travesty called the “Paris Accord” save for that “Treaty of Versailles” that is long under the bridge and maybe we can get it resurrected some day, as an example to never be followed, and as an educational tool for future leaders of how far groupthink can take us down the wrong rabbit hole.

Yet when we examine the Treaty of Versailles, the result of these competing and sometimes conflicting goals among the Victors of the First World War, was a terrible compromise that left no one content. Germany was neither pacified nor conciliated, nor was it permanently weakened. The problems that arose from the treaty would lead to the Locarno Treaties, which improved relations between Germany and the other European Powers, and the re-negotiation of the reparation system resulting in the Dawes Plan, the Young Plan, and the indefinite postponement of reparations at the Lausanne Conference of 1932.

It is worth noting, in a nod to history, that yesterday Mr Putin met with Angela Merkel, the Prime Minister of the unified Germany, in the palace of Versailles for bilateral talks under the auspices of the new French President Mr Macron who sees himself as a Europeanist and a resistor to the “Pax Americana”  newly re-strengthened under the Trump presidency. Yet in reality Mr Macron is not a resistor but just a transistor of the wishes of Berlin and Brussels who helped install him in the French Presidency so he can continue assuring the domination of today’s Germany over the European and the French people. Because today’s French president Emmanuel Macron, acts like a useful puppet of the German deep state, and a terrible appeaser of the revanchist German mighty machine of European conquest. Yet in favor of the French people, that appeaser president will soon be shaken off the back of the French people like another blood sucking flea, scratched-off a dog’s back. We can see that playing out, in this weeks’ animated G7 conference of 2017 that took place in Taormina Sicily where Trump was seen squaring off to Macron’s and the other European leaders’defeatist attitude towards Russia’s president Putin. Back in 1945 the “Versailles Conference” saw the “Big Four” meetings taking place in a Spirit of animosity and revenge, that was not befitting Leaders of Men. That is why Europe reaped what it had itself sowed, in the next decades of unrest, that saw the coming of the Weimar Republic and Hitler’s rise to power.

A lot of that bloody and sometimes brilliant nonsense could have been avoided if we had acted as leaders when Winston Churchill extolled us to perform our duty of magnanimity towards the defeated foe. Because Churchill had himself fought in the killing trenches of the Somme, and had seen the carnage of warfare up close and personal. Because during the first World War, on 5 October 1914, Churchill went to Antwerp, which the Belgian government proposed to evacuate. The Royal Marine Brigade was on its way there and at Churchill’s urgings the 1st and 2nd Naval Brigades were also committed. He returned on 7 October, but Antwerp fell on 10 October. 2,500 British men, many of them barely trained, were taken prisoner or interned in the neutral Netherlands. At the time he was attacked for squandering resources. Churchill maintained that his actions prolonged the resistance by a week (Belgium had proposed surrendering Antwerp on 3 October) and that this time enabled the Allies to secure Calais and Dunkirk.

Churchill was involved with the development of the tank, which was financed from the Navy budget. In February 1915 he appointed the Landships Committee, which oversaw the design and production of the first British tanks. However, he was also one of the political and military engineers of the disastrous Gallipoli landings in the Dardanelles. He took much of the blame for the fiasco, and when Prime Minister Asquith formed an all-party coalition government in late May 1915, the Conservatives demanded his demotion as the price for entry.

For several months Churchill served in the sinecure of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. However, on 15 November 1915 he resigned from the government, feeling his energies were not being used. Although remaining a member of parliament, on 5 January 1916 he was given the temporary British Army rank of lieutenant colonel and served for several months on the Western Front, commanding the 6th Battalion of the Royal Scots Fusiliers. While in command at Ploegsteert he personally made 36 forays into no man’s land.

Winston Churchill went reconnoitering in the killing fields of the No-Man’s Land, between the British and the German trenches were legendary. For thirty six times he went where at the “Golgotha” as if seeking his “Maker” crawling about in the place of Death where the exposed bodies of the fallen soldiers lay unburied for many days and until a temporary cease fire could be negotiated by the mortuary corps from both sides, in order to collect the dead.

Just visualize Winston Churchill in the muddy trench warfare where he willingly went to fight on this bloody No-Mans-Land thirty six different times — crawling on his belly and making plenty of noise yet still escaping the buzzing hornets, that the enemy bullets represented for him. He always find back sparingly in order to not reveal his position by the muzzle flash of his gun, but he gave as good as he got and he dispatched a number of enemy soldiers with his accurate mark-manship from his standard issue long rifle. His kill rate was the highest amongst all officers on that front, but his fellow soldiers were always mortified that he would be instantly killed in every single sortie Winston made against the enemy’s positions, due to his XL size, and predisposition for giving orders in a loud voice. Winston Churchill made about as much noise as a baby elephant walking about in the woods, when he was going out to No-Man’s-Land. This level of noise from Winston crawling about, often times attracted the enemy’s fire and caused a quick conflagration with bullets flying both ways, and even long distance cannon getting involved — so that these bloody engagements came to be remembered as Winston’s daily battles. Sadly many of his comrades perished in these forward engagements but Winston Churchill somehow remained unscathed, save for wear and tear and a few bullets grazing his head, and drilling holes in his kit, his uniform, and his gear-pack. Even his helmet had gotten drilled a couple of times and to his eternal credit he showed so much courage that his people were all invigorated through his heroism.

In March 1916, after all this “fun and games,” on the Western Front, Winston Churchill was recalled and returned to England after he had become so restless in France that his superiors thought he had a Death Wish, and didn’t want to carry him on their consciousness. Yet this was a good time to return because Churchill also wished to speak again in the House of Commons and alert them about what is coming down the pike.

Winston Churchill wrote to his friend Lloyd George a succinctly inimical to the War letter because by that time Winston had seen so much carnage that he had come to hate war and it’s grim reaper menace for the youth of the British and indeed of all the European families. And then the future prime minister David Lloyd George wrote back to Winston who was communicating from the bloody trenches that: “You will one day discover that the state of mind revealed in your letter, is the reason why you do not win trust even where you command admiration. In every line of it, national interests are completely overshadowed by your personal concerns.”

And that is when Winston Churchill’s anti-war stand came to die… and he became again a staunch supporter of the Militaristic perspective of his time and age. In quick succession, in July 1917, Churchill was appointed Minister of Munitions, and in January 1919, Secretary of State for War and Secretary of State for Air. Thankfully at the time he became the Secretary of War, the First World War had just ended…. So he focused on other things and he came to become the main architect of the Ten Year Rule, a principle that allowed the Treasury to dominate and control strategic, foreign and financial policies, because at that time, he correctly had convinced the British government of Appeasers that they were operating under the assumption that “there would be no great European war for the next five or ten years”.

 

 

Although right about now Winston Churchill was seen as a cad, similar to his father, he was quite the opposite and instead of “playing” with his many lady friends, and female admirers, he was solely focused on his work and family fully.  He had even supported the right of women to vote and proposed that universal Suffrage be brought up to a vote in the House of Commons, So the ladies loved him but he chose to not be the Austin Powers of the British Parliament and instead of endlessly “shagging” the beauties, he endlessly agonized at his desk, and in his bath. Indeed his major preoccupation during his tenure in the War Office, was the Allied intervention in the Russian Civil War, because Churchill was a staunch advocate of foreign intervention in that conflict, for principled reasons. Mainly because Winston Churchill had correctly declared that Bolshevism (Communism) must be “strangled in its cradle” and not be allowed to infect the rest of the world with it’s bloody hateful ideology of totalitarian misery, perpetual state of war, and despotic corruption.

Yet after all his big efforts, Winston only managed to secure the intensification and prolongation of the British involvement beyond the wishes of any major group in Parliament or the nation. He was dealing with a divided and loosely organised Cabinet and in the face of the bitter hostility of Labour — that was all the help for the Russian Nationalist that Churchill could muster against the Communists. Yet in 1920, the government recalled even that skeleton force and after the last British forces had been withdrawn, Churchill was instrumental in having arms sent to the Poles when they invaded Ukraine, and helped the last ditch effort of the Russian nationalists to resist the Communists. Winston was also instrumental in arming other para-military forces, in many other places where people fought oppression, like when he was helping arm the “Black and Tans” and the “Auxiliaries” who intervened in the Irish War of Independence.

Still it is worth noting that women loved him… like another Austin Powers.

 

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Whoever said that Winston wasn’t a romantic heartthrob?

When Winston Churchill became Secretary of State for the Colonies in 1921 and was a signatory of the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921, which established the Irish Free State — he celebrated because although people thought him an imperialist, he was a staunch supporter of a self ruled Ireland. Churchill was involved in the lengthy negotiations of the treaty and, to protect British maritime interests, he engineered part of the Irish Free State agreement to include three Treaty Ports—Queenstown (Cobh), Berehaven and Lough Swilly—which could be used as Atlantic bases by the Royal Navy. In 1938, however, under the terms of the Anglo-Irish Trade Agreement, the bases were returned to Ireland.

In 1919, though, when Britain and the United States signed a treaty of alliance with France which the United States Senate refused to ratify, thus turning the proposed Anglo-Franco-American alliance into a stillborn — later Churchill argued at the Imperial conference of Dominion prime ministers, that despite the rejection by the American Senate of the alliance with France, Britain should still sign the military alliance with France in order to guarantee post-war security and stability in Europe.

Winston Churchill further argued that at the Paris peace conference the Americans and the British had successfully pressured the French to downgrade their post-war ambitions and their plans to annex the Rhineland in exchange for the military alliance. He said that this created a moral commitment for the British Alliance with France, because the French had given up the demand for the Rhineland in exchange for an Anglo-American security guarantee that they did not get at the end of the day…

Still Churchill’s idea about an Anglo-French alliance was rejected at the conference because it was judged that the British public opinion and even more, the Dominions’ public opinion, was fully against the idea of the “continental commitment.” Still Winston soldiers on and on the 4th of May 1923, Churchill spoke in favour of the French occupation of the Ruhr, which was extremely unpopular in Britain saying: “We must not allow any particular phrase of French policy to estrange us from the great French nation. We must not turn our backs on our friends from the past”.

Churchill knew that the industrial region of Ruhr was the key to prevent the rearmament of Germany and he wanted to have the French act as territorial constabulary to supervise the German industry and keep it honest for a while longer by preventing them from turning their massive production capabilities towards the making of the war machines and armaments. And that the Anglo-French Alliance was the key to continued safety and security in a well balanced European power game.

That is incontrovertible proof of the extent of his brilliant Statesmanship… as exhibited early on and it was the singular knowledge of these ideas of balance and harmony that distinguished him and made him the winning Prime Minister of the Second World War.

Still back in the days of the Anglo-French Alliance Treaty — there was no US support because the US Congress having been soured by President Wilson’s terribly partisan treatment of the Paris Peace Conference negotiations and the passage of the Treaty of Versailles over American objections, they took out their wrath at the American-ANglo-French Alliance Treaty. Thus the American Alliance Treaty with France was doomed as another Wilsonian partisan idea, but Churchill having seen the clouds of war amassing over Europe once again, he persisted and at least managed to secure the Anglo-French Alliance part of it, thus giving hope to the French people for the next few years. at the very least. Still his mechanism kept the peace in Europe for two decades and that’s nothing to scoff at…

But we didn’t listen to Churchill then, same as we don’t listen to his “Voice” today, and instead we chose to lull ourselves to sleep, under the sweet lullaby of the appeasers, and the soft voices of the peaceniks — till we feel the serrated knife slashing at our throat…

Maybe we need another Hitler to wake us up today and methinks that the little boy Dictator of Pyongyang just might be the Dictator we need to galvanize against today, same as we needed evil Adolf in the 1940’s and the Pearl Harbor disaster to wake us up from our slumber party.

Surely, in that sense, Churchill also “needed” Hitler, just as much as Hitler needed the vengeful European leaders of France, and the unjust Treaty of Versailles (French: Traité de Versailles), in order to justify his emotional appeal to the German people and his despotic rise to power through hook & crook, and through galvanizing his people using virulent hate, evil means, and the primal need for revenge against the Allies who had humiliated them for far too long… using the Versailles Treaty as the scapegoat for all his wrathful anger when speaking to the German people at the giant rallies of millions of young Germans in places like Nuremberg and Berlin.

And when Adolf Hitler accepted the capitulation of France, as the Conquering Fuhrer, he designed the ceremony of the French surrender to take place and to be signed in the same railroad car that French General Fochs had gotten the Germans to sign their own surrender in Versailles two decades earlier…

 

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Somehow when we look at history we can’t fail to notice that the Free World and certainly Winston Churchill needed Hitler in order to manifest their brilliance much like an uncut chunk of coal/diamond ore, needs a good smithy, a good diamond cutter to cut out the crap, and bring out the brilliant light from chiseling the stone to within a millimeter with amazing precision to create a great diamond. This is what i mean when I say that Churchill needed Hitler and vice versa. They needed each other in order to prove who is the Diamond and who is the dirty piece of black coal.

Similarly, Hitler “needed” the British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain in order to have a useful fool that can help him appease his major enemies, the English speaking people, along with all their European Allies, and the Americans, so that Hitler can remain unmolested in his pursuit of conquest and usurpation of all power throughout Europe. Hitler truly needed the appeasers like Neville Chamberlain and all the other European leaders who failed to check his powerful thrusts, and cutting attacks, and who saw his voracious appetite for blood and conquest, as a simple affirmation of the old hunting proverb that “The Wolves Must Eat Too” and so we must step back and allow Hitler to fulfill his appetites.

French General Foch’s private car became the Treaty of Versailles memento, because although it was signed in the Hall of Mirrors at the palace of Versailles, it was a peace treaty, where the delegation of German negotiators had arrived to meet the Allied negotiators in Marshal Foch’s special railway car at Rethondes, a railroad station in the forest of Compiègne, on November 8th 1918. Only after the Germans were forced to formally request an armistice, did Foch hands over the terms of the Treaty that included that Germany must evacuate from Belgium, Alsace-Lorraine, and Luxemburg within 14 days, the German Army must turn over about one-third of its artillery and about one-half of its machine guns, Germany must evacuate the west bank of the Rhine River, and give the Allies bridgeheads to the east side of the Rhine at Köln (now Cologne), Mainz and Coblenz (now Koblenz), German troops must pull back from the Rhine to create a 24.8-mile-deep neutral zone, and the Allied naval blockade would continue to insure German compliance with the armistice.

The Germans were given 72 hours to accept or reject the conditions for a truce. On November 10th, with Kaiser Wilhelm in Holland, the German Army headquarters authorized the German delegation in Compiégne to sign an armistice.

When armistice negotiations were resumed at 02:35 am, General Foch had somewhat reduced the harsh terms, allowing the German army to retain more armaments, giving the Germans more time to withdraw from the territory they had taken, reducing the east bank of the Rhine neutral zone depth to 6.2 miles, and allowing German troops to stand fast in the east (to oppose the spread of Bolshevism) until the Allies request their withdrawal. The armistice was signed at 05:10 am. Before departing, the German negotiators read a letter of protest that suggested the harsh terms threatened Germany with “anarchy and famine.” No handshakes were exchanged. News that the armistice was to begin at 11:00 (the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month of 1918) was broadcast at 05:40 am.

 

The heads of the “Big Four” nations at the Paris Peace Conference, 27 May 1919. From left to right: David Lloyd George, Vittorio Orlando, Georges Clemenceau, and Woodrow Wilson.

It is worth noting is that the First World War carnage continued until the very last moment, and that the killing and the spilled blood continued unabated, with casualties from both sides on the last day of World War One, numbering 10,944, of whom 2,738 dead and 8,206 seriously wounded in the course of that one last day of the war.

Just imagine that…

And now let’s jump two decades forward and see what happens in the same place…

Hitler unleashes his blitzkrieg invasion of the Low Countries and France with a fury on May 10, 1940 using his new Blitzkrieg. Within three weeks, a large part of the British force, accompanied by some of the French defenders, is pushed to the English Channel and compelled to abandon the continent from the port of Dunkirk.

 

The German advance continues to sweep southward driving before it not only the retreating French army, but an estimated 10 million refugees fleeing for their lives.  The French abandon Paris, declaring it an open city. This allows the Germans to enter the French capital on June 14 without resistance.

 

 

 

 

The French government continues its flight southward to Bordeaux where it disintegrates. A new government is formed with World War I hero Marshall Petain at its head. On June 17 the aging warrior announces in a broadcast to the French people that “It is with a heavy heart that I tell you today that we must stop fighting.”  This is the final straw that breaks the back of the French resistance to the German invasion. The French government calls on the Germans for an armistice that will end the fighting.

Hitler dictates that the French capitulation take place at Compiegne, a forest north of Paris. This is the same spot where twenty-two years earlier the Germans had signed the Armistice ending World War I. Hitler intends to disgrace the French and avenge the German defeat. To further deepen the humiliation, he orders that the signing ceremony take place in the same railroad car that hosted the earlier surrender.

The Armistice is signed on June 22. Under its terms, two thirds of France is to be occupied by the Germans. The French army is to be disbanded. In addition, France must bear the cost of the German invasion.

(Hitler’s face) “is afire with scorn, anger, hate, revenge, triumph.”

 
This story comes from William Shirer who was a radio reporter for BBC News, as he stands in a clearing in the forest of Compiegne next to the railroad car where the ceremony will take place. Hitler and his entourage arrive just moments before the ceremony:

“The time is now three eighteen p.m. Hitler’s personal flag is run up on a small standard in the centre of the opening.

Also in the centre is a great granite block which stands some three feet above the ground. Hitler, followed by the others, walks slowly over to it, steps up, and reads the inscription engraved in great high letters on that block. It says:

“HERE ON THE ELEVENTH OF NOVEMBER 1918 SUCCUMBED THE CRIMINAL PRIDE OF THE GERMAN EMPIRE… VANQUISHED BY THE FREE PEOPLES WHICH IT TRIED TO ENSLAVE.”

Hitler reads it and Goring reads it. They all read it, standing there in the June sun and the silence. I look for the expression on Hitler’s face. I am but fifty yards from him and see him through my glasses as though he were directly in front of me. I have seen that face many times at the great moments of his life. But today! It is afire with scorn, anger, hate, revenge, triumph. He steps off the monument and contrives to make even this gesture a masterpiece of contempt. He glances back at it, contemptuous, angry – angry, you almost feel, because he cannot wipe out the awful, provoking lettering with one sweep of his high Prussian boot. He glances slowly around the clearing, and now, as his eyes meet ours, you grasp the depth of his hatred. But there is triumph there too – revengeful, triumphant hate. Suddenly, as though his face were not giving quite complete expression to his feelings, he throws his whole body into harmony with his mood. He swiftly snaps his hands on his hips, arches his shoulders, plants his feet wide apart. It is a magnificent gesture of defiance, of burning contempt for this place now and all that it has stood for in the twenty-two years since it witnessed the humbling of the German Empire.

…It is now three twenty-three p.m. and the Germans stride over to the armistice car. For a moment or two they stand in the sunlight outside the car, chatting. Then Hitler steps up into the car, followed by the others. We can see nicely through the car windows. Hitler takes the place occupied by Marshal Foch when the 1918 armistice terms were signed. The others spread themselves around him. Four chairs on the opposite side of the table from Hitler remain empty. The French have not yet appeared. But we do not wait long. Exactly at three thirty p.m. they alight from a car. They have flown up from Bordeaux to a near-by landing field. … Then they walk down the avenue flanked by three German officers. We see them now as they come into the sunlight of the clearing.

 

Hitler celebrates
before the ceremony

It is a grave hour in the life of France. The Frenchmen keep their eyes straight ahead. Their faces are solemn, drawn. They are the picture of tragic dignity. They walk stiffly to the car, where they are met by two German officers, Lieutenant-General Tippelskirch, Quartermaster General, and Colonel Thomas, chief of the Fuhrer’s headquarters. The Germans salute. The French salute. The atmosphere is what Europeans call “correct.” There are salutes, but no handshakes.

Now we get our picture through the dusty windows of that old wagon-lit car. Hitler and the other German leaders rise as the French enter the drawing-room. Hitler gives the Nazi salute, the arm raised. Ribbentrop and Hess do the same. I cannot see M. Noel to notice whether he salutes or not.

Hitler, as far as we can see through the windows, does not say a word to the French or to anybody else. He nods to General Keitel at his side. We see General Keitel adjusting his papers. Then he starts to read. He is reading the preamble to the German armistice terms. The French sit there with marble-like faces and listen intently. Hitler and Goring glance at the green table-top.

The reading of the preamble lasts but a few minutes. Hitler, we soon observe, has no intention of remaining very long, of listening to the reading of the armistice terms themselves. At three forty-two p.m., twelve minutes after the French arrive, we see Hitler stand up, salute stiffly, and then stride out of the drawing-room, followed by Goring, Brauchitsch, Raeder, Hess, and Ribbentrop. The French, like figures of stone, remain at the green-topped table. General Keitel remains with them. He starts to read them the detailed conditions of the armistice.

Hitler and his aides stride down the avenue towards the Alsace-Lorraine monument, where their cars are waiting. As they pass the guard of honour, the German band strikes up the two national anthems, Deutschland, Deutschland uber Alles and the Horst Wessel song. The whole ceremony in which Hitler has reached a new pinnacle in his meteoric career and Germany avenged the 1918 defeat is over in a quarter of an hour.”

June 21st 1940: on a lovely summer day in the Compiegne Forest at Rethondes about 50 miles northeast of Paris, Hitler arrives at 15:15 for the presentation of armistice terms to the French. This is to take place in a railroad dining car (the “wagon-lit”), taken from a French museum and placed in the exact location where the Germans signed the World War One Armistice.

While walking to the dining car, Hitler comes to a large granite block with an inscription in French. The inscription is translated for Hitler: “Here on the Eleventh of November 1918 succumbed the criminal pride of the German Empire – Vanquished by the free people it tried to enslave.”

The French delegation of four arrives, not knowing beforehand that the armistice terms would be presented in the Wagon-Lit. Looking shattered but composed, they enter the railcar to find Hitler sitting in the same seat at the middle of the table that had been occupied by Marshal Foch for the World War One Armistice signing.

After General Keital reads a statement that is a revisionist version of history (probably drafted by Hitler), Hitler leaves the dining car after instructing General Keital that the armistice terms are not negotiable. The harsh terms are intended “to provide Germany with the guarantees require for the enforced pursuit of the war against Britain” and “reparation of the wrongs inflicted by force on the German Reich.”

June 23rd 1940: at 1730, the French delegation was given the ultimatum to sign the armistice by 1830 or the armistice talks would end and fighting would begin again. After talking with the French Cabinet in Bordeaux, the French delegation signs the document at 1850. The armistice is not to go into effect until six hours after the French sign an armistice with Italy.

After signing, the French delegation was driven to Paris and flown to Rome to sign an armistice with the Italians. The next day, the French World War One victory monument was blown up and the “wagon-lit” was taken to Berlin for display, arriving on July 8th. The historic railroad car would be destroyed later in the war during Allied bombing attacks on Berlin.

 

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After the end of the war and the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, during the 1920s, Churchill supported the idea of a “reconciliation” between Germany and France with Britain serving as the “honest broker” for the reconciliation” and beginning in 1931, when he opposed those who advocated giving Germany the right to military parity with France, Churchill spoke often of the dangers of Germany’s rearmament.

In 1931, Churchill said: “It is not in the immediate interest of European peace that the French Army should be seriously weakened. It is not in British interests to antagonize France.” He later wrote in “The Gathering Storm” portraying himself as being for the time, a lone voice calling on Britain to strengthen itself to counter the belligerence of Germany.

In 1932, Churchill accepted the presidency of the newly founded “New Commonwealth Society” a peace organisation which he described in 1937 as “one of the few peace societies that advocates the use of force, if possible overwhelming force, to support public international law” and that gives us the essence of Churchillian Doctrine if such an oxymoron could even ever exist…

And in February 1936, when Churchill, holidaying in Spain the Germans reoccupied the Rhineland in February 1936, returned to a divided Britain. The Labour opposition was adamant in opposing sanctions and the National Government was divided between advocates of economic sanctions and those who said that even these would lead to a humiliating backdown by Britain as France would not support any intervention. Winston Churchill offered a speech on the 9th of March that was measured, and well received by all in Parliament, and garnered the praise even of the head Appeaser Neville Chamberlain who saw it as a first for Winston declaring it an unusually constructive speech. But within weeks Churchill was passed over for the post of Minister for Co-ordination of Defence in favour of Attorney General Sir Thomas Inskip. This was later called this “an appointment rightly described as the most extraordinary since Caligula made his horse a consul.” At the time insiders were less worried, because Duff Cooper was opposed to any appointment for Churchill, whilst General Ellison wrote that he had only one comment to make, and that is “Thank God we are preserved from Winston Churchill.”

On 22 May 1936, Churchill was present at a meeting of Old Guard Conservatives, the group that included Austen Chamberlain, Geoffrey Lloyd, Leopold Amery and Robert Horne, at Lord Winterton’s house at Shillinglee Park, to push for greater rearmament of Great Britain. This meeting prompted PM Baldwin to comment that it was “the time of year when midges came out of dirty ditches.” Neville Chamberlain was also taking a growing interest in foreign affairs, and in June, as part of a power-bid at the expense of the young and pro-League of Nations Foreign Secretary Anthony Eden, he demanded an end to sanctions against Italy. This is what Winston Churchill referred to as “the very midsummer of madness.”

In June 1936, Churchill organised a deputation of senior Conservatives to see Prime Minister Baldwin, along with visiting Inskip and talking to Lord Halifax. There had been demands for a Secret Session of the House and the senior ministers agreed to meet the deputation rather than listen to a potential four-hour speech by Churchill. He had tried to have delegates from the other two parties and later wrote, “If the leaders of the Labour and Liberal oppositions had come with us there might have been a political situation so intense as to enforce remedial action.” Rhodes James writes that this is “not quite the impression” given by the documentary record of the meetings of 28–29 July, and another meeting in November. Churchill’s figures for the size of the German Air Force Luftwaffe, leaked to him by Ralph Wigram of the Foreign Office, were less accurate than those of the Air Ministry, and he believed that the Germans were preparing to unleash thermite bombs “the size of an orange” on London. Ministers stressed that Hitler’s intentions were unclear, and the importance of maximising Britain’s long-term economic strength through exports, whereas Churchill wanted 25-30% of British industry to be brought under state control for purposes of rearmament. The PM Baldwin argued that the important thing had been to win the election to get “a perfectly free hand” for rearmament. The meeting ended with Baldwin agreeing with Churchill that rearmament was vital to deter Germany.

On 12 November, Churchill returned to the topic. Speaking in the Address in Reply debate, after giving some specific instances of Germany’s war preparedness, he said: “The Government simply cannot make up their mind or they cannot get the Prime Minister to make up his mind. So they go on in strange paradox, decided only to be undecided, resolved to be irresolute, adamant for drift, solid for fluidity, all powerful for impotency. And so we go on preparing more months, more years, precious perhaps vital for the greatness of Britain for the locusts to eat.” Robert Rhodes James called this one of Churchill’s most brilliant speeches during this period, Baldwin’s reply came sounding rather weak and disturbing for the House. The publicly humiliating exchange for the Prime Minister Baldwin, gave new encouragement to the “Arms and Covenant” Movement.

Surely, “the wolves must eat too” but Hitler needed to eat the whole world, and to accomplish that end he used the appeasers first and foremost, when he started secretly rearming the German forces, and especially when he was secretly building the all powerful “Luftwaffe” the magnificent German Air force, and when he took over the industrial Ruhr and the Rheinland and he started turning all industries to a war footing, while he sought the unification of all German territories and their German speaking minorities, in central and eastern Europe, to a large “Heimat”. Hitler needed the “Appeasers” far more than they needed him, and the people would already know this, because in is early stage of the ascendancy of the German Reich — he was weak in the knees, and wanted to create “fait Accompli” events in his rapid conquest before the World’s opinion turned against him.  Because only by false bravado and fake optimism Hitler had whipped up the German “Volk” through his rousing speeches, full of hate, histrionics, and honour.

Indeed Hitler began occupying the minds and the hearts of the German Common Man and of all the European easily impressed “Vol” before he drove them to begin occupying all the surrounding countries in their entirety, and to commit untold atrocities like a pied piper leading mindless children to their slaughter…

Yet even when Hitler truly started his European conquest by annexing Austria and the Czechoslovak republics and going halfsies in conquering Poland — split between himself and his new “buddy” Marshal Stalin, and thus ejecting the appeasing Brits, who had an Alliance Treaty with Poland that guaranteed their mutual defense, that the appeasing Brits failed to honor at that time…

And it is exactly because of the protection afforded him by the Peaceniks and by the Appeasers in the English Parliaments and in all the liberal Democracies of Europe and by the Wilsonian doctrine of Isolation in America — that Hitler saw the power vacuum, and took massive advantage of it by filling it with his fast moving mechanized divisions. Hitler’s diversionary tactics and his propaganda machine is similar in many ways to what China, North Korea, the Islamists of ISIS, and even the Russians have been doing on the back of the appeasing American administrations of the last five Presidents who sought Peace with dishonor. That is how the Russian President Vladimir Putin took over Crimea and all eastern parts of Ukraine while US president Obama was puffing the “herb” and secretary Clinton was sloshing in her breakfast wine coolers and going blotto before lunch, all the while communicating from her bathroom based email server, that was open to the whole world to read whatever secrets ever came to pass through the State Department’s communications infrastructure.

Clearly when your enemy reads all of your emails every day — they must know how to pre-empt any actions that you might be thinking of deploying against them. That’s how the world and especially American lack of strong leadership and compete lack of Statesmanship, enabled President Putin to lord it above all in Europe and in the World. The fault lays with us because by simply having the American administration asleep at the wheel, and the Powers to be, tolerating those losers at the helm if the White House and the State department — we gave up on any pretense of power.

Back in his day, Hitler, just attacked Poland in a Blitzkrieg, and took the half of Poland where some Germans had lived as his vital “Heimat” leaving the other half to the other hungry “Wolf,” Marshal Stalin. How’s that different form Putin’s annexation of Crimea today?

I would call this action a high stakes “Heist” and a true war against Europe and against NATO, yet back when Hitler was riding high on the shoulders of the appeasers, who carried him for the formative Ten years of his Worldwide conquest dreams during the build-up of his forces to that awesome military perfection of the well oiled machine — we called it inevitable. These are the same poorly chosen words that Secretary Clinton and President Obama used to describe the Russian invasion and Annexation of Crimea and Eastern Ukraine. Words have meaning and when leaders use them to describe and validate the naked grab of another country’s territory by an enemy that threatens the balance of power in Europe — we must be careful where we use them. Because today no private conversation remains private for too long… and if the President of the United States and the Secretary of State describe an attack on a sovereign state as inevitable it sucks. It sucks even worse when the new President o France Emmanuel Macron describes the ISIS attacks in Paris as the inevitable result of our own Islamophobia… but that another matter…

Thus indeed in short order Hitler declared the whole of Europe as a German fiefdom. He called it an expanded “Heimat” by fiat of his Aryan superior race, and on behalf of his racial description of Aryan DNA, based on principles of “Eugenics” seen in his foundational document, the “Mein Kampf.”  The fascist term Heimat, included the  “blood and soil” essential reading of the National Socialists, since it is relatively easy to add this dimension to the positive feelings for the New Reich. Heimat is indeed a rejection of anything foreign, or that which was not necessarily there in the first place. It was conceived by the Nazis that the Volk community is deeply rooted in the land of their Heimat through their practice of agriculture and their ancestral lineage going back hundreds and thousands of years. The Third Reich was regarded at the deepest level as the sacred Heimat of the unified Volk community—the national slogan was “One Reich, One Volk, One Führer.” Those who were taken to Nazi concentration camps were those who were officially declared by the SS to be “enemies of the volk community” and thus a threat to the integrity and security of the Heimat…

So the imaginary construct of a scientific and nationalistic intellectual case, for the exclusion of the invalids, the foreigners, the minorities and especially of the Jews — became the new Common Sense for all Germans, through the use of relentless propaganda. No longer it was questioned whether the nice German Jew Doctor that treated your children, or the corner greengrocer, and the Jewish shopkeeper, had a right to exist amongst the German “Volk.” They all had to go, along with their families, because they clearly did not belong there. The German “Heimat” would not tolerate anyone different and that was final. The final solution was never debated amongst the Good Germans or even the ethical Methodists, and the diligent Protestants whose Christianity took a big hit because of their complicity in the extermination of many millions of innocent people in acts of savagery never before seen in this God’s good earth.

In “Mein Kampf” his 1925 autobiographical book, the Nazi Party leader Adolf Hitler, describes the process by which he became antisemitic and outlines his political ideology and his future plans for Germany. Hitler called Europe a federation with “Deutchland Uber Alles” as a precursor to what Germany has accomplished today through economic despotism by maintaining the long term stated goal of turning the European Union into a federation of states subservient to Germany’s Centralized power to lead the serfs to cultivate the German fields in Ukraine or act as waiters for the German Masters in Greece, or be as willing and obedient serfs serving the German Overlosrds in their One Billion people dark fiefdom of German led Europe.

An evil dystopian vision for Europe that has now unfortunately come to pass, and that only the English people have now woken up to and are running away for the exit…

Yet back in the second world war, Hitler was able to accomplish all that evil plan swiftly, due to strength of arms and conviction of belief. And even though we see his work today as a failure, let’s be honest and really see his meteoric rise to power over twenty years of continued successes, because only then we can understand whose plan is Germany still playing out today — and then we might give him a measure of respect for his strategic genius and for the utmost tenacity of the German deep state carrying on a long distance domination plan for Europe and the World…

Hitler also tested the resolve of all European leaders and found them greatly wanting. That is why he attacked the Republicans of Spain and installed Generalissimo Franco to power, who in turn acted as a proxy for Hitler for the duration of the war, although his country was ostensibly “neutral” because for Hitler Spain was a very important geographical ally in order to test the resolve of the liberal democracies of Europe, but also in order to be able to control the Straits of Gibraltar for the long term, via proxy, and most importantly in order to check whether the Allied leaders had a pulse.
So when he found they had none — he continued unabated to divide Poland with Stalin, to take over the Sudeten-lands, and to annex Austria and Czechoslovakia, as a prelude to an all out conquest of Europe, and the World, very much in the mold of a modern day Chenghis-Han.

 

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Adolf Hitler without the appeasers of the early twentieth century Europe would not have been anything like the furious Führer of the Third Reich, the Hitler we have come to know through his historical achievements.

But for our needs of true historical comparison in this season of tepid wars, and the gravitational forces that want to drag us either towards a really “Hot-War” or a truly Second “Cold-War” we ought to travel back about two millennia to a time when the King of Persia Darius had died in 485 B.C. before he could launch another assault on Greece, so it fell upon his son Xerxes that due to dynastic succession rules, had to set out and assault the Greeks by conquering the principal Free and Democratic States of Athens and Sparta in order to complete his fathers ambition of the empire of Persia conquering Greece. Because in stark contrast to the despotic dark Persian method of governance, the Greeks stood on their way, as the only bulwarks of Human liberty amidst the nations of the whole World. Athens and Sparta being the leaders of the ancient Commonwealth of Greek federated city-states members of the Delphic League, stood to fight a war of Civilization akin to the one we are fighting today against the forces of Evil from many comers.

 

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So here comes the Second Persian War, after the first Greek Persian war had turned in favor of the Greeks in the decisive battle of Marathon under

Persian King Xerxes feared for his fleet and he treated her like an expensive toy to not be played with… and in consequence he protected her from any engagements that could result in the Persian fleet sustaining any damage from man for nature. He went so far s to keep the fleet out of imaginary harm’s way by building a canal that took him three years to complete in order to avoid passing through the Athos peninsula of Northern Greece, should a storm arise, as was usual in thee waters. Clearly the was a giant fleet made for tepid waters with untrained and unworthy sailors and commanders that owed their position to nepotism and nothing resembling merit or capacity for leadership.

Indeed Xerxes plan was to go through Northern Greece, with his fleet providing protection, and reach central Greece with both army and navy unmolested by any engagement with the enemy.

However the Spartan king Leonidas with his 300 military men was awaiting him at Thermopylae the place where many years later Winston Churchill would come to take his hot baths au-naturel at this natural hot water springs that served as a Spa and a place of Retreat and Healing in everlasting memory of Leonidas and his fallen comrades. The hot gates Leonidas guarded, is the village of Thermopylae that to this day serves that solemn yet largely forgotten duty, in the minds of those amongst the Greeks who still stand

At the time of Xerxes innovation, most of the Greek city states’ leaders had met in the city of Corinth to work out a common defence. It was agreed that there would be a combined army and navy which would be under Spartan command, but with Themistocles, the Athenian leader, providing the strategy.

Though all of the men were fine soldiers, they were hugely outnumbered by the Persians. This time though, they numbers were even more against them. It was this fact that Themistocles based his strategy on.
Leonidas, the Spartan King, led the army to a pass at Thermopylae, which is known today as Lamia. This pass was the main passage into central Greece from the north. The plan was to trap the Persian army in this bottle-neck, where the fact they were vastly outnumbered would have little influence on the outcome.

This went according to plan, until a traitor showed the Persian army a footpath behind the lines as a way for the Persians to bypass the defensible position and descend upon the Spartans from the mountains falling upon the flank of the Greek defenders.

Inevitability, the Greeks were forced to retreat along with their fleet with was stationed just of the island of Evia, but Leonides, along with about 300 troops remained and fought for two days until they were all killed to the very last man

Persia now controlled northern Greece, and were able to march down into Athens and take control over the whole of Greece . Themistocles had predicted that Athens would soon be taken over by the Persians so he ordered the women and children of Athens to evacuate to the island of Salamis, whilst the men were sent to sea to join with the Athenian fleet.

When the Persians did reach Athens, they swiftly attacked and took over the city and the citadel along with the Acropolis, and after killing all the defenders, they destroyed the city ad burned down all the temples and all the public buildings and they even destroyed and burned down to the ground all the houses.

The vengeful Persian King, was so barbaric and bent in total destruction, that he orders his army to burn down the houses and even the temples to their own eastern gods that the Athenians had included in the Greek pluralistic and multi-religious permissive view of the world, in their Pantheon of Gods, as a gesture of solidarity and plurality of thought and religion, and also as a practical way to cater to the spiritual needs for the number of Persian and Eastern people, who lived amongst the Athenians.

Had the Athenian Leader Themistocles not evacuated the city, it would have been a singular disaster, as the few defenders who were left back to stand lie Leonidas in Thermopylae experienced through their death trying to stop the far too numerous barbarians from destroying the beloved Athenian city. Now the only hope of defeating the Persians was for the Athenian fleet to perform some kind of miracle…

Themistocles however decided against a battlmade up of smaller vessels throughout…e in the open sea, because his fleet was much smaller than the Persian fleet and . By sending out a fake message, the Persian fleet was enticed into the small strait of Salamis.

The Persian fleet fell for the plan and many of the larger ships were trapped in the narrow waters surrounding Salamis.The smaller and more mobile Greek ships were able to surround the Persian ships and destroy them.

Xerxes watched this destruction from the shore, and returned back to Persia in disgust at what he had witnessed. Xerxes left most of his army behind, under the command of Mardonius, with the specific orders of conquering the rest of Greece.

In 479 B.C. the battle at Plataea took place where, under the Spartan general Pausanias, the Spartans forced their way through the Persians and left the Greeks victorious. During the land battle, the Greek fleet simultaneously sailed over the Aegean and obliterated the remains of the Persian fleet.

Ironically, the Ionic Greeks, who started the revolt which lead to the Persian wars, choose to join the Greeks instead of the Persian army which they were forced to do, and fought in the final battles of the Persian war.
Athens becomes the Leader of Greece

With the Persian Empire defeated, mainly due to the Spartan army, many believed that Sparta would continue to act as leader for Greece . However, the Spartans were more interested in the Peloponesse. Sparta attempted to create a fleet as large as the Athenians and also to prevent the rebuilding of the city walls around Athens. However, when they failed on both of these objectives, it was accepted by all that Athens should become the main city of Greece.

In order for Athens to start rebuilding Greece and also to protect it from future invasion, an alliance was formed. This was the Delian League, named due to the fact that the treasury was keep on Delos, a very sacred island. As well as the alliance consisting of the main city-states in Greece , many islands in the Aegean and the Ionic and Aeolian colonies in Asia Minor were involved. It was agreed that if and when an attack arises, all the cities had to help and support one and other.

When time arose for the Eygptians to revolt against the Perisans, Athens decided to help and sent over a fleet of about 200 ships. A large portion of he Athenian fleet was destroyed as well as the Persians suppressing the revolt.

After another battle between the Greeks and Persians in Cyprus, in which the Greeks were victorious, a formal agreement between the two took place in which the Persians would not attack Greece or its colonies in Asia Minor, and that Greece would never again attack Persia.

The Delian League in effect turned Athens into a great empire. The annual contribution of ships, and then later money, allowed Athens to enter into a new age.

This new age, was the Golden Age of Athens and the reign of democratically elected Leader, the visionary Pericles of Athens…

 

To be continued…

 

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