ON THE GREAT BRAIN ROBBERY.

—FROM THE WRITING DESK OF MRS. BEGONIA CONTRETEMP.

Grand Dame Emerita of the Why-and-Wherefore Cohort of the Nouvelle Vague Zwischenschaft [NVZ] — A Council-of-Concerned-Conservationists–Affiliated Pan-European Assembly for Metaphysical Realignment

[NVZ: “A New Wave of In-Betweenness”) — someone might say it is a gently ironic, yet ardently principled, homage to the European New Right, GRECE, and other continental endeavors to civilize the ruins. We parody because we love, and we love because we suspect they have proven to be more than right — if only they’d add a dash more lace and fewer leather-bound men.]

Well now, poppets. We’re told migration is freedom, that the great shuffling of peoples across oceans and borders is a sign of global progress, human dignity in motion. And yet — how strange — this freedom always seems to flow in one direction. Out of the Global South and into the glittering West, with barely a backward glance. No one flees London for Lagos, nor do the fine folk of Brussels set up tents in Port-au-Prince. Have you ever seen a Parisian risk death on a dinghy to reach Djibouti? No, darlings — you have not.

And why is that? Because underneath the pieties and placards, the modern migration regime is not a triumph of humanitarianism. It is a continuation of imperialism by other means. The West no longer dispatches soldiers to extract rubber, diamonds, or grain. It simply opens its arms, flutters its eyelashes, and strips the periphery of its most vital crop: people.

☛ “Come, dear — your potential is more profitable here.”

How sweet the slogans sound, how benevolent the visas seem. But look a bit closer, lambs, and you’ll see: this is a transfer of vitality, not charity. The West imports the young, the bright, the ambitious — draining poor countries of the very souls who might have mended, led, or rebuilt them. And who profits? Why, the capitalist class, always. Corporations salivate at fresh pools of cheap labor, and the managerial left — ever the teacher’s pet of power — applauds in unison, mistaking exploitation for empathy.

But let us not deceive ourselves, lambkins — it is not only promise that arrives on these rubber dinghies. Alongside the capable come the criminal, the unstable, the profoundly unfit — those whose departure is less an escape than an expulsion. They do not build; they burden. They do not inspire; they intimidate. And their presence, multiplied and unassimilated, frays the delicate fabric of civic trust.

This is not merely loss — it is demoralization. Native Europeans, once confident stewards of their homelands, are made to feel estranged in their own streets, berated for noticing, and accused of cruelty for resisting. The result is a people softened, silenced, slowly unspooled. Whether by design or neglect, the effect is the same: a subdued and self-doubting populace, easier to manage, less inclined to assert or preserve anything at all.

And so, my dears — if it feels like you’re being replaced and reprimanded for mentioning it, perhaps you’re not imagining things. Perhaps you’re simply waking up.

Let’s not mince words: the modern Left has colluded with capital. Hand in sweaty hand, they’ve ensured that the global poor are converted into Western service workers, Uber drivers, and diversity statistics. It’s not solidarity — it’s a harvest.

☛ “We are told white supremacy reigns. But why is everyone sailing toward it?”

Now, my sweets, here’s the most damning little wrinkle — one that makes polite society shuffle its feet and pretend to cough.

We are told — constantly, deafeningly — that white supremacy rules the West. That it’s a system of such virulent evil that even being adjacent to it is trauma-inducing. And yet—millions risk death to live under it. They leave their homelands, families, and languages to dwell in its midst. They do not run from white supremacy — they run to it, in flip-flops and deflated rafts, with children clutched to their chests.

What a pickle, no?

If this were truly a regime of terror, wouldn’t it repel rather than attract? Perhaps — just perhaps, ducklings — what we’re calling “white supremacy” is something else entirely. Not moral perfection, heavens no. But a form of civilizational coherence, of material and cultural order, whose shadow is preferred to the light of “liberated” post-colonial chaos.

To say this, of course, is heresy. But to ignore it is idiocy.

☛ Remigration — a terribly kind idea.

We are told it is cruel — even fascist — to suggest that migration should be reversed, that the talented and driven should return to their own countries and rebuild them. But what is actually cruel, my dears? To hollow out Haiti, Afghanistan, and Mali — or to say, lovingly, “You are needed at home. Go back. Go back, and lead.”

Remigration is not racism. It is restoration. It is what the truly post-colonial world would look like: a globe of sovereign peoples, not a single, sprawling service class feeding the appetites of dying Western democracies.

☛ A few parting thoughts for my pet progressive [ahem]radicals

You’ve been dreadfully clever about capitalism, my little firebrands. You’ve critiqued its banks and borders and bombs. But you’ve missed the plot entirely when it comes to migration. You’ve mistaken the symptoms for the cure. You’ve cheered the exodus, when you should have grieved it.

And so I say again, with a stern rap to each of your furrowed brows:

You cannot decolonize the world by draining its people into your lattes.

Send them home, with tools and honor — not pity and paperwork. That would be a revolution worth having.

Yours, in affectionate severity,

—Mrs. Begonia Contretemp

Council-of-Concerned-Conservationists

Correspondent for Cultural Autopsy, Imperial Etiquette, and Spiritual Disarmament