Rudyard Kipling, awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, wrote ‘The Stranger’ in 1907. We have forgotten what our ancestors understood and took for granted: people tend to seek, and be happier with, their own people. Multiculturalism is a colossal experiment against human nature. Multicultural states throughout history proved unstable and ultimately, unworkable.
Kipling embarked on a speaking tour of Canada the same year that he wrote his poem. A continuing theme during Kipling’s visit was immigration, and in particular the need for over-populated Britain to send more men and women overseas to participate in the growth of Canada.
This was a lively issue in Canada at the time, particularly in the West, where there was a shortage of labour, but resistance to Japanese immigration, which had led to violent riots. In an interview with the Toronto Globe Kipling said:
“Immigration is what you want in the West. You must have labourers there. You want immigration, and the way to keep the yellow man out is to get the white man in.. .Pump in the immigrants from the Old Country. Pump them in; England has five million of people to spare.”Rudyard Kipling
In the end, the mad rush to create a multicultural Europe will transform the West into a fragmented, dysfunctional, corrupt version of much of the Third World.
The Stranger – Rudyard Kipling
The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk–
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wanted to,
They are used to the lies I tell;
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy or sell.
The Stranger within my gates,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control–
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.
The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.
This was my father’s belief
And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf–
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children’s teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.
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