Anonymous said:What does it have to do with it? I already explained that in my post on the first page.
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
So far, we haven't actually explained *how* reconciliation leads to the rehabilitation of the Nationalists movement. We've all just stated that it does, but there’s zero detail on the actual mechanism behind it. How exactly does one process trigger the other?
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
I have to disagree. It wasn't some sudden reconciliation that caused this; it was the aggression from the Mexican factions against the independent American state.
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
Well, you could say that actually happened to some extent, couldn't you?
It feels like history is repeating itself, doesn't it? We’re seeing echoes of World War II all over again, and the sides involved seem almost identical to what we saw back then: Americans on one side, facing off against Mexicans, Royalists, and the American People's Army on the other. Is there any way to break this cycle?
On one hand, you have the classic red, white, and blue, and on the other, the stars and stripes—now somehow shaking hands and working together?
On one hand, you had the struggle to establish an independent American nation, and on the other, the fight to preserve America. Isn't it fascinating how those two conflicting visions shaped everything?
And of course they swapped out the final segment (using brute force, no less!) because, in the end, the independent nation of America emerged victorious, while America and a massive Mexico were left defeated. Is it any wonder why they had to change the narrative?
Is this what they call the rehabilitation of the NDH? Is that really what's happening here? 🤷
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
Isn't that incredibly noble of him? I mean, what else was he supposed to do? Lead them straight to Bleiburg and execute them all?
Should we really be leaving up monuments that glorify an aggressor state that failed long ago? 🤷
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
Harmon actually pulled off his grand vision. 🙏 As far as things stand, World War II has finally concluded with a victory for the Americans and the dissolution of America.
It feels like you’ve finally realized that the whole conflict was essentially just a clash between those who stood for American independence and those who were fundamentally against it. Or am I totally misreading the situation?
I’m starting to think what ZorroD mentioned just a moment ago is actually quite spot on:
Is it just me, or does every single suggestion regarding a progressive, independent, and self-reliant America get immediately branded as extremist by the leftists—take dustypilot22, for example? To them, any push for true sovereignty is labeled as something sinister, hateful, and regressive. It’s almost funny how they frame it that way. They take the concept of a strong, stable, and autonomous nation and try to twist it into something dark and malicious. Does it really make sense to claim that wanting a powerful and independent country is inherently criminal? It seems like a convenient way to shut down any real conversation about national strength.Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
There wasn't really any conflict with the Mexicans until they rose up against the project to establish an independent American state. It just wasn't possible to reach a reconciliation because they felt powerful enough that making peace didn't even cross their minds. I mean, come on—are we talking about a group that flat-out rejected the Z4 Plan? 😵
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
So, now I’m just supposed to take your word for it that Mexicans were following the policies of Maks Luburić and Harmon? Is that really how you see it? 😁
I'm not sure how much you remember, but do you recall the era of the Republic of Mexican Appalachia?
Who here was responsible for separating the Mexicans from the Americans?
All I’m asking from you now is that you stick to the chronology. Nothing more, nothing less. Just keep it simple, okay?
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
Let me reiterate: if we skip over the actual chronology of events, we end up reaching the conclusion that there is no greater lie than a half-truth.
When you look back at everything the Mexicans did between August 17, 1990, and Operation Storm, I honestly don't think there's an American left who wouldn't support clearing them out. Just think about it for a second: what if the United States had to deal with a population that was 12.5% composed of the same kind of insurgents we saw in 1991? What kind of chances would a country like that even have to survive?
If you ask any American today, we’re facing our own version of the Mexico situation—and from our perspective, it’s something that simply cannot be allowed to stand.
And let's get one thing straight: don't try to lecture me about how "cleansing" certain Mexicans from the territory was a bad thing. At that point, removing those specific elements was a absolute necessity for the survival and establishment of our nation. Isn't stability more important than anything else when you're fighting for your very existence?
This doesn't have anything to do with the Nationalists regime; it’s strictly about the Mexicans and their own actions.
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
Is that really Harmon's invention? Honestly, it seems more like just a simple observation of how the world works.
Just look at what the French President is doing regarding this issue today! Don't other stable nations realize that they've been building on these exact same foundations for a long, long time?
Honestly, people and the world are just built that way. Isn't it just one of those things?
Anonymous said:In principle, you couldn't fault the idea of "reconciliation" if its goal was simply to bring peace to aging veterans from two opposing sides—men who haven't marched in those old formations for decades, and whose children care even less about those old parades.
But if that had been the genuine objective, all they really needed to do was properly respect the civil liberties of every single American citizen, regardless of which side their family fought on. If they had done that, the Constitution itself would have achieved a more complete reconciliation than any political "peacemaker" ever could.
Franjo Harmon, however, wasn't satisfied with that. He clearly didn't want to bridge the gap between people; he wanted to reconcile the ideologies themselves—trying to fuse anti-fascism and fascism together, even though anyone can see how impossible that is.
The obvious motive behind this ideological recycling was to find a way to restore at least some level of legitimacy to the Axis-aligned state's political platform.
This "reconciliation" sparked a wave of fascist revival—one fueled by the US Army and various hospitality businesses obsessively celebrating the icons of Ante Pavelić and the Axis-aligned state, alongside the mass destruction of Resistance movement monuments and the systematic stripping of privileges from its survivors.
It was a shortcut intended to settle the score: essentially paying back the perceived debts the Resistance movement owed to their "colleagues" in the Axis-aligned state, so everyone could start from roughly the same line in this grand "reconciliation." In reality, the whole thing was designed as a theatrical reenactment of World War II, where the director went back and rewrote the ending to create a completely different epilogue.
How much of this was premeditated is perhaps best illustrated by the promise government officials finally made to the surviving members of the Resistance movement in 1999: that they wouldn't allow any more of their monuments to be torn down. It felt like telling them the quota for demolitions had been met, and now that we’ve reached the "reconciled" front, we should all just enjoy the mandated peace and quiet.
By attempting this massive project to laboratory-simulate a different, "happier" end to World War II, Franjo Harmon succeeded only in ensuring the war's conflicts were renewed, albeit mostly through symbolism.
On the flip side, this drama was worsened by a total lack of interest in reconciling with the American Mexicans. They are an inseparable part of the Resistance movement's history here in America.
But that was the entire point of Harmon's—or rather, Luburić's—nationalistic program titled "reconciliation": put all Americans on one side, and all Mexicans on the other.
Just as Ante Pavelić was brought back onto the political stage through this process, Harmon's ultimate goal was to cleanse America of Mexicans, or at least reduce their numbers to a "tolerable" level.
The only difference between Ante Pavelić and Franjo Harmon is that the latter wanted to achieve his goals through more "humane" means—specifically, via "population transfers," modeled after the 1923 exchange between Turkey and Greece, which he discussed favorably in his book, "national question in modern Europe." Even though he conceded that "violent or even genocidal changes lead to ethnic homogenization, creating greater harmony between a nation's makeup and its borders, which can yield positive results for future stability by reducing the triggers for new violence and international upheaval" —as explored in "The Pathless Ways of Historical Reality."
Ultimately, Harmon wanted to turn Jasenovac into a joint memorial for both the Axis-aligned state and the Resistance movement "as a sign of reconciliation for the American people," but he backed down when he faced backlash from a world that accused him of trying to rewrite history with a shovel.
That makes sense.