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Christianity and the fall of Rome



Christianity was no more responsible for the fall of Rome than the Labour Party was responsible for the fall of the British Empire—yes, in 1947 it was the Labour Party that granted India independence, but India was lost 64 years before at least.


In the same way, when the American empire falls there will probably be someone with a degree in Gender Studies in a senior position in the administration—but America did not fall to Gender Studies.


The Catholic Church, the Labour Party, Gender Studies—these are the coup de grâce to an empire that went senile long ago.


It’s just that men like Gibbon and Nietzsche—and Nietzsche adored the Enlightenment, the French philosophes—liked to blame Christianity for the Empire’s decline.


Here’s what actually causes an empire to die:


[i] Luxury—too much luxury, especially among the elite, leads to unrealistic decisions and a decline in martial spirit (Scipio knew this, so did the Greeks); in the Empire’s early days the legions would build a camp with earth walls and open entry ways—you had to rush to the entry ways to fend off an attack face to face; by the Empire’s late stage, there would be a gate and towers for the camp—you could sleep safe, just like an American soldier in Afghanistan could get instant helivac, whereas Custer’s men just had to take that arrow and hope it didn’t kill them.


[ii] Blood—the original blood that built the society runs out; usually, it’s Nordic blood—it’s the Normans, it’s Washington’s blood. Sooner or later it exhausts itself, becomes lost in the metropolis. Genius is hereditary, the whole bearing of the civilisation is in the blood—once it’s gone, or degenerated, you just have the cultural edifice, often maintained by people, like Rishi Sunak, who don’t have the blood of the founders, just their manners.


[iii] Wisdom—the successful empire becomes urbanised, in the urban realm people are detached from the natural world. They lose the canny peasant wisdom that was there at the empire’s start—the people in the city listen to actors at the theatre or to weird foreign cults (Christianity, Gender Studies); people become “clever” and “abstract”, but they also become impractical and effete—they lose sight of obvious ideas, like the idea that the borders should be defended.


Put those three factors together and you have the fall of a civilisation—“the idea”, whether socialism or Christianity or Gender Studies, comes at the end and finishes off the delusional empire. It opens the gates, breaks the last bounds of the old tribal solidarity—preaches pacifism or world renunciation, and the over-fed and over-entertained citizens applaud.


Let’s take a look at St. Augustine, a member of the Roman elite at the time the eternal city fell:


[i] Really loves his mum—tells us he really loves his mum a lot, spends lots of time with her; doesn’t talk much about dad, who follows the old pagan religion (basically, he’s feminised).


[ii] Cries a lot—cries about his sins, cries about the girls he splits up with, cries about a friend who dies, cries about whether to accept God or not. He’s not exactly the model of a stern Roman legionary.


[iii] Hates war—despite an interest in the flagellations of hell, he doesn’t like war at all; it makes him very upset.


[iv] Sexual decadent—sleeps with lots of women, has a concubine, and finally joins a weird sex renunciation cult called “Christianity” because he’s overwhelmed with neurotic guilt (today, Augustine would go to group therapy for “sex addiction”).


[v] Hates the traditional religion—runs down Romulus, the city’s founder-god, constantly, runs down all the traditional Roman religions, even the ones followed by the defenders of the Empire.


[vi] Urban intellectual—trained in and makes his living by rhetoric, same as a journalist or academic today; thinks that it is acceptable to tell lies if the lies are good for people (save souls/stop racism); uses emotive language to manipulate people to join his weird life renunciation cult (Christianity/Extinction Rebellion).


[vii] Not Roman by blood, “paper citizen”—Augustine is a Berber from North Africa, while technically European, though not by my Nordic standards, he is not of the original Roman founding stock and has been “naturalised” into the Roman “proposition nation”.


[viii] “Woody Allen archetype”—Augustine is highly neurotic, changes his mind all the time, feels insecure, and reasons mainly through his emotions (like a woman).


It’s not that Augustine is a Christian, there were many weird cults and sub-varieties of followers of Jesus about in Rome at the time—it’s his general nature, St. Augustine is a decadent elite. As I say, today he’d either be in group therapy for “sex addiction” (he’s working on a book about it, though he’s totally not bragging about how much sex he had—it’s a serious book called Confessions) or he’d be in Extinction Rebellion (“life is pain, stop having children or the polar bear will die—there are too many people already”).


Augustine, just like modern progressives, is also a filthy liar. So he starts The City of God with Rome’s fall—the barbarians sack every temple, except the churches. Why, it’s practically a miracle—even the barbarian pagans respect the churches, though not the pagan temples. Praise be! Hallelujah! He is risen!


He then goes on to say that the pagans who blame the Christian religion for the fall of the city had to hide in churches, take sanctuary there—so they can’t criticise the Church. This is a logical fallacy and emotional manipulation, but he’s a rhetorician so what do you expect.


It’s like if I ran your car off the road into a river, but then dived in and rescued you—and when you said “why did you run me off the road, you maniac?” I replied “look, I saved your life—you can’t criticise me.”


Well, Augustine preaches against war—against the cults of the legions; so do you think that maybe, just maybe, that might have helped the barbarians sack Rome?


As it happens, it’s all based on a filthy lie—the barbarians weren’t all pagans, some were Arian Christians (no connection to the other Aryans). The pagan barbarians sacked the temples and slaughtered the people there, per standard military practice back to Caesar—but their Arian compatriots persuaded their comrades not to sack the churches, since those belonged to “a friendly god, one of our tribal gods”.


So there’s a rational explanation—but why doesn’t Augustine say the barbarians, some of them, are Christian? Well, he doesn’t think the Arians are Christian—he thinks they’re dirty heretics; even though they give full faith and credit to the Catholic Church (a mistake, because this is not a reciprocal and tolerant organisation that will say “you like Jesus too, great!”). So for Augustine they’re all “barbarians” and it’s “miraculous”.


Because he’s a filthy liar, just like people today who pretend that there’s no difference between men and women or the races—because it’s “good for the soul”, you see. Christians say, Augustine says, you can lie to bring people to Christ and to protect the Church—we are fishers of men, and the fisherman may bait his hook (it’s going in your mouth, by the way) with whatever dainties will catch men…or, today, even if you think races are different it’s “too terrible to say” or “would lead to another holocaust”, so lie—save those souls, brother.


So with people like Augustine in major positions of influence—and he’s from a minor noble family, holds an “academic” position as teacher of rhetoric—it’s no wonder the coup de grâce fell on Rome. Augustine hates the world, hates life—or pretends to, anyway. He certainly preaches that.


His whole “cope”, as we say today, in The City of God is that “material things don’t matter anyway, only the true eternal city of God matters” so if Rome falls it doesn’t really matter because it’s not important really (although he was very upset that Rome fell—as were other Christians, just like an anti-racist progressive would be dismayed if jihadis seized Buckingham Palace, decapitated Charles, and then raised the black flag over Parliament; no matter how much they’d whined about “white supremacy” before).


If Confessions is the biggest humble-brag in history, being a prideful chronicle of naughtiness that masquerades as contrition, then The City of God is the biggest cope in history—being an attempt to explain why Christianity had nothing to do with Rome’s fall, despite its centuries-long campaign to undermine everything Roman; and, even if it did, it didn’t matter anyway because you shouldn’t care about material things like a state anyway.


If it really didn’t matter to Augustine that “the city of man” fell and that Christianity was implicated in its fall, why spend nearly 1,000 pages to explain why Christianity didn’t do it and even if it did then it doesn’t matter anyway?


I think the lady—and Augustine is a lady, if not transgender—doth protest too much.


But you can’t say it was just Christianity—there are always people with crazy ideas about, but it takes a decadent society for those ideas to gain traction and influence behaviour. The belief is just the proverbial straw that breaks the camel’s back—that particular rainstorm caused your back garden wall to fall down, but “it was basically structural, mate, was bound to ’appen—sooner or later.”


Augustine is the type of man who occupies elite positions in an empire’s terminal phase, occupied that position in Britain in the 1900s—occupies that position in America now. Not a bad man—actually, a man over-preoccupied with “goodness” and “morals”—but a man detached from reality.


What’s ironic about Augustine is that he doesn’t have much insight into what he’s actually in. He talks about the “dirty, filthy” pagan cults and games and theatrics—and he’s right these were decadent, long before his time a Roman empress went on stage naked, covered herself in grain, and had geese peck the grain off her body (scintillation). Sounds decadent to me.


But Augustine doesn’t realise, as he condemns these other cults, that he is also in a weird sex cult—the weird sex cult he is in isn’t about getting naked in public and being pecked by geese, it’s about renunciation of all sex in a punitive way and a renunciation of the desire to live.


Now, it just so happens that his weird sex cult survived the fall of Rome and went on to form the minds of men for a millennium—but it’s just the same as if America fell and all its intellectual activities were then administered by Sex Addicts Anonymous for another millennium (rather like Christianity, it’s a 12-step program).


Anyway, Christianity isn’t to blame for the fall of Rome—Gender Studies will not be to blame for the fall of America; it’s only superficial to think that—when these cults are prominent and powerful, it’s already too late.


A historian might look back at Britain in 1,500 years and attribute the fall of British power and invention to the arrival of Islam, a minor cult that grew to take over the whole country and suppressed materialistic rational thought—but that would be to confuse an empire’s aftertaste with the reason for its decease.


The patient died of Covid-19, but they were also 86 years old—so you only have the proximate cause on the death certificate. Christianity, socialism, “the woke”—all proximate causes, all red rags for the intellectual bull, for people who have a beef with the Christians or the socialists. The British Empire was in trouble from the 1830s onwards, the Americans from the 1930s onwards—then there’s the final blow, facilitated by a man like St. Augustine.









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