by Billy Roper

Over one-hundred and fifty years ago, the war for Southern Independence ended. It’s more commonly referred to as the Civil War, though considering the nature of the war which began in 1775 between some British colonists and their government, the unfortunate period of the 1860’s might have been just as easily referred to as Civil War II, or as American Revolution II, alternately.

Now, monuments to Confederate dead are being removed all across the former Confederacy and elsewhere, often by judicial fiat. As a descendant of Confederates, this angers me to the point of rebellion, again. But, if we fight again, as many believe we inevitably will and must, what will we be fighting for? Will we be fighting for crumbling granite and marble, and a faded, outlawed flag? Or will we be fighting for the blood which flows through our children’s veins, and their futures, wherever they find them, geographically?

Will we be fighting for the green graves of our sires? Last year, I buried my father in the cemetery where he wished to lay, corporeally, for all eternity. Most of my family is buried there: grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great grandparents, and aunts and uncles and cousins. A couple of weeks after my father was interred there, we lay my grandma to rest, right beside him. The problem?

That area, due to the voluntary regional racial migration ongoing in this country which I wrote about in ‘The Balk‘, is now over 90% black. When my dad was growing up there, it was about evenly split. I’m not going to live anywhere near there, and I’ll very rarely ever visit. When America balkanizes, will I fight for it? Let’s just say that it won’t be at the top of my list of priorities, at least initially. I anticipate that any White folks there will be pretty much on their own.

Believe me, I do understand the power of symbolism, both in its defense and preservation, as well as its destruction and defacement, for our enemies. However, I’m fighting for our future, more than for our past. If we are, as I intend to be, the winners of the struggle happening now, then we will be the ones who get to write history, as we see fit. We can rebuild any monument we wish. If we, instead, try to play politically correct games by insisting that the Confederacy wasn’t racist and celebrating black Confederates, then the monuments are meaningless; everything that matters, we’ve already given up.

Instead, let’s create some reasons for our descendants to raise new monuments honoring us. There won’t be any wreaths laid at the tomb of the anonymous screenname, or the cenotaph of memes.

Statues and monuments are raised for heroes. Do you still have it in you?

 

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