National Socialism is the social conscience of Socialism without class hatred and outmoded economic dogma.
It is the productive efficiency of Capitalism without the cruelty and exploitation of unrestrained greed.
It is the reverence for tradition and history of Conservatism without inflexibility or petrification.
It is the rationality of Liberalism without its emasculated rootlessness and its blindness to deeper modes of perception.
It is Patriotism which transcends narrow Nationalism and embraces the Race.
It is a religion without superstition – without magic and magicians, without the supernatural, without a sick and treasonable hankering after Other Worlds.
It accepts the inevitable quantum of pain in Existence with joyous fortitude – not with poisons and anesthetics and comforting delusions.
It is an affirmation and a yea-saying. It knows that for the brave, for the strong and for the healthy, life is always joyous.
It knows that there are Aristocratic Races and Rabbles Races and that the highest values must always be incomprehensible to the Rabble Races – thus the object of their hatred, fear and mockery.
It is unimpressed by noblemen but it respects above all the Noble Man.
It knows that the most despicable of all sins is treason – treason to the Comrade, treason to the Race, treason to Life, treason to the Earth.
It calls to the Highest Men and to that which is highest even in the Lesser. But to fat and greasy souls, to the soft, to the cowardly, to the lovers of despicable ease, to the greedy, to the skraelings, it is a thundercloud and a hurricane.
One should ask first not, “Is National-Socialism worthy?” but “Am I worthy to be a National-Socialist?”
Let the bugles of National-Socialism summon the great ingathering of the Folk.
Beyond this age of Fenris-Wolf and Midgard Serpent, the skies are red with a new dawn. After the Fimbul-Winter comes anew the great springtime of our Race.
With our eyes on the furthest galaxies – O divine hunger – and our feet on the necks of the submen – O divine contempt – who durst yet say what we cannot yet do?
O Ye Great-of-Heart and Splendid-of-Soul, where else is your lost Homeland but in our serried phalanxes?
CALL US, OF WAR-FATHER TO THE RAVEN’S FIELD AND TO RAGNAROK. WE SHALL NOT COME HALTINGLY ON LAME FEET TO VICTORY OF VALHALLA!
Commentary by Martin Kerr
The author of Credo was the British National Socialist Dr. Peter H. Peel, who first published this prose-poem under the pen-name “Wayland Smith” in 1971. It has since been widely reprinted.
Credo played an important part in the ideological development of the Movement in the English-speaking world in the 1970s. Among its admirers was NEW ORDER founder Matt Koehl, who commented that it portrayed National Socialism as a “higher synthesis” of Aryan values.
Dr. Peel was born in England in 1920. His active involvement in the Movement began in the 1930s, when, as a teenager, he briefly served in the forces of Francisco Franco during the Spanish Civil War. Returning to Britain, he joined Sir Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists.
A patriotic Briton, he joined the Royal Air Force in the Second World War, and served in India and Burma. He later regretted having fought against Hitler’s Germany.
After the War he immigrated to the US, where he earned his doctorate in history. He also pursued a part-time career on the stage and in Hollywood. He appeared in television shows such as The Twilight Zone and Stagecoach, and films such as Sextette.
Politically, he supported the National Socialist White People’s Party and later NEW ORDER, as well as the National Alliance in the US, and the National Front and the British National Party in the UK. He was also a leading member of the Los Angeles Odinist Council.
Dr. Peel died in 1988.
“Credo” is Latin for “I believe.” In this short, intense prose-poem, he proclaims his National Socialist faith with eloquence and power.