By Sigurd AOR
Summer 2260

When Tacitus wrote his Germania, he mentioned, in awe, how much veneration our Heathen ancestors gave to women, especially mothers. The most ancient artefacts of our distant forebears that archaeologists – that is, taking into account the 3% with such a degree that actually find employment – have saved from the soil are symbols of fertility, well rounded women such as the famous Venus von Willendorf. But somehow, somewhere along the way, this veneration got lost, and changed to utter demonisation…

Recently, news reached me of a mother of ten, who was exposed as the moderator of a preservationist forum and publicly denigrated as a ‘Neo-Nazi’. This was not any woman, but the spokesperson of the parents’ council in two of her children’s classes, seen twice on TV in documentaries about multi-children families, a free artist and wife to a renowned IT consultant. Respectable German newspaper Die Zeit caught onto what the enemies of our folk reported about her, as she is publicly shamed. Any thinking person doesn’t do that to any woman, let alone to a mother-of-ten. My well-wishes go out to her, may she cope with that adversity.

To me as an Austrian, this is a déja-vu. In this year’s presidential election, the local National Conservative party, the FPÖ, fielded a female candidate, Barbara Rosenkranz. Also a mother of ten, and the only (!) member of the Austrian Parliament to vote against the EU Constitutional Treaty, now redefined as the Reform Treaty or Lisbon Treaty back in 2005 (unlike our Irish friends, we had no referendum on whether we wanted this blatant step towards a One World Government, regardless of what our constitution says), she had much wind to sail against.

Now, despite retaining a dusty membership card somewhere in my legendary pile of lost documents, I am not in full agreement with all of this party’s policies, I have a mind of my own and think freely. In fact, I don’t believe that there is essentially a political solution to many of the problems that befall our folk; for a large part, there is a spiritual defect, with nothing for the common man to live for other than a measly pay check from a corrupt manager at the end of the month, and a spiritual defect always demands a spiritual answer. Which is why I am first and foremost an Odinist and all other interests and viewpoints, as diverse as they are, derive from this.

Either way, that candidate received a lot of denigration. When her nomination became public, the first outcry was from radical feminists – who should technically be proud of seeing a female candidate fielded – who declared her as a ‘breeding machine’ (my beloved mother, typically rather left-wing, was one of the few to honour her as a mother and vote for her). Bringing ten children into this world when abortion is freely available, and then even motioning for rights and recognition of the housewife for the work she does daily, had to be a sign of ultimate slavery to the evil white man. Somehow, my own grandmother still managed to be a stay-at-home mother for 15 years, after attending Medicine at university, and still squeeze in almost 20 years of work as a renowned pharmaceutical referent. And somehow my other grandmother never suffered a moment of depression despite having to bring up six children, not all of whom were always easy, tell me about it – my father is the best father one could wish for, but let’s just say he has his antics.

And what is worse, the names of that woman’s children – all of Germanic root: Alwine, Arne, Hedda, Hildrun, Horst, Mechthild, Sonnhild, Ute, Volker and Wolf. In the time of Deborahs and Leahs and Chantelles, this is the ultimate sin – after all, it reminds us of our cultural heritage, and everyone who names their children in such a fashion is clearly a Neo-Nazi, Anti-Semite and – as we call it in Austria, ‘forever yesterdays’. If it is so, then I suppose it’s something to be proud of, as I clearly intend to follow my own family tradition of giving my children (applicable prospective wife free to apply via my secretary) meaningful Germanic names with mythological connotation.

Finally, as our local student newspaper mentions, she has been known to partake in Germanic solstice celebrations, so I shall calmly assume that she is at least sympathetic to the Odinist path, if not actually educating her children in our tradition (with our “Nazi” past, anything to do with Germanic gods, runes, or any of the like is absolutely taboo, which is why the sources are silent here). This was deemed as the worst sin of all.

So I wonder: How come no one is offended if our Hindu cousins sport a swastika/fylfot, if this is also part our heritage, the most holy sign of all Indo-Europeans? How come no one questions the neighbouring mixed-race (pardon, dual-heritage, according to Newspeak, 14th edition) family for naming their children with traditional African names? How come that Japanese women’s organisations can call for striking a ski-jumper from the Olympic team for saying that he considers European women more beautiful, but this be absolutely outrageous in our longitude? I’m not even going to go down the path of a certain near-Eastern country having racial marriage laws that would make Himmler and Streicher melt in jealousy…

Also: How come everyone nods in approval when a clearly alien family come to our countries and have almost a full dozen children, but it is suddenly questionable when this happens with our folk? Suddenly, they are deemed either ‘anti-social’ or somehow ‘forever yesterdays’ – in my grandfather’s youth a neighbouring farming family had 19 children, and Empress (well, actually Arch-Duchess) Maria-Theresia (1717-1780) had 16 children, much to the delight of all who met her, she was even loved in my native Tyrol despite disagreeing with her centralist policies. This all when daily politics mention the issue of having to fill up the lack of youth to take over workplaces with members not of our folk — they should technically be damn grateful that there are still people wishing to have many children in our countries. In my own interest, I’d love to see myself an asset to my folk and not a model no longer manufactured.

Anyway, I am drifting off. I set out to make one point: It doesn’t matter whether we approve of their personal credentials; we ought to see these women as what they are – true heroes of our folk. I was not an easy child and troubled my mother a lot. As a young man with three younger siblings I have also oft lost my temper for no apparent reason other than them being absolute pests at times (I love them all to bits and am proud of every little one of their achievements, but you know, younger siblings…). But I cannot remember a time my mother refused to cook for me, or my siblings for that matter, not even that day when I was eleven and, distressed from the mobbing at school, called her all types of unspeakable things I will not repeat here. She heavily cried that day, but accepted my apology and was there for me again. She gave birth to me under pain and no matter how much of an unthankful brat I was, she offered me a safe haven, made me into a thinking and self-conscious young man.

She could have easily gone to the doctor and gotten an abortion to not sacrifice her career. I went for a beer with my lecturer the other week and he told me – my mother also being a student of Linguistics – what an intelligent woman she was, and laughed when he told me that she was so interested in the subject that she even pushed the pram into the Seminars and the library. I am forever indebted to her for being the best mother a boy could hope to have, and to be frank, I simply wouldn’t be here if she had followed the ideas that are spreading so rampant these days about how children are an obstacle to women’s liberation; I simply wouldn’t be here to write such cutting lines.

I heavily assume that I strike a chord here with most, or at least some of you that are reading this. So, let’s thank our mothers, and all mothers of our folk by accepting what they are: True Folk Heroes. Whether they have one child, two children, or ten children. The best way we can thank our own mothers and the fellow mothers of our folk is to give them the respect and veneration they deserve. For no matter what they all say, no woman – or man – has said on their death bed that they wished to spend more time in the office. Actually, chances are that, if they live to ripe old age, there wouldn’t have been anyone to hear their last words had they not decided to be mothers and fathers at some point.

Hail the Faith, the Folk and the Family!
Hail the Mothers of our Folk!