Samuel Paty, a French secondary school teacher, was decapitated by a young Chechen man. Paty had displayed the prophet Mohammad in various sacrilegious poses in an image spread for a lesson on free speech. The assassination displayed virtue on the young Mohammedan’s part. This might shock those who think that virtue means to follow the laws; however, virtue is really akin to manliness—and to assabiyah, to group fellowship. Civilisations begin with high assabiyah levels and end in decadence with low levels—at that point an outsider tribe with higher assabiyah levels displaces the decadent civilisation.
The Chechen, as with the young Mohammedans who supported him, valued his religion and fellowship. His mind said, “So the Frenchman shits on the Prophet (Peace Be Upon Him). My duty is clear, kill the infidel.” Now, as a Chechen, there is biological angle; he naturally had extremely high ethnocentrism and a propensity to violence—yet he still needed an ideas system in which to orientate those tendencies, tendencies that could equally well be expressed in a drug gang.
The viewpoint is about the same as if someone had pushed your child on the street: you would draw the child to you—possibly you would get in the other person’s face; and in the old days, if the offence was serious enough, you would gather your brothers and cousins and kill the transgressor. You would not sit around and petition the state, call the police and hope they would “do something”. Virtuous people defend their honour with self-reliance—young Chechens in France have the same sense for themselves as Mohammedans. They have a big family—and the family is held together by the sacred, by the Prophet.
So the young Chechen was never going to fill out a form to petition the relevant French anti-racism ministry as regards the outrage committed against the Prophet. He simply did what a man would do, he acted—only women stand around and ask for help, write to their MP and ask him to look into the matter. This year, I saw an Australian MP stand up in his regional parliament and become very agitated that a primary school should teach a ten-year-old child to speak to her dad and ask him about his erections and ejaculations as a homework assignment. The MP, well, ejaculated (verbally) all over the chamber—practically sputtered in outrage; and yet this performance was a sham—it was womanly, it was moral outrage.
What does a man do when his daughter is violated? He goes to the school and kills the teacher. He does not write to his MP. Australia is a low assabiyah culture, so the reaction to the virtuous course would be: “Strewth, that’s a bit strong, mate.” Being civilised decadents we sit back and feel philosophical about it: you know, I have nice house in the suburbs and a nice job—do I really want to kill a teacher over homework? After all, I guess my wife slept with a few other guys before we married—this is the modern world, right? Perhaps kids do need to know. Well, it does make me angry though—so I will write a very strong letter to my MP. Fair dinkum.
The virtuous man does not think: “Golly, if I kill this teacher I might have to do twelve years in a French prison and my career will be ruined—perhaps I’ll even be killed!” He simply acts—and everyone in the group benefits, the French walk a little lower and the teachers skip the relevant slides in future. It is an honour to die for the Prophet and the group—you are a hero. The Australian suburban dad hems and haws, perhaps the MP will pass a bill against sex ed in primary schools—a bill that will be repealed in a few years or sabotaged by bureaucratic chicanery. The Australian is already dead in the water, he will be replaced by the Mohammedan—as will the Frenchman.