"The Mountain Has Fallen"
[Harold Covington's graveside funeral oration for Robert Miles.]
On August 16th, 1992, a giant departed from among us when Robert Miles died at the age of 67, three months to the day after the death of his beloved wife, Dorothy. The gap which he has left in our ranks will not easily be filled.
For over forty years, Bob Miles played a leading role in the White resistance movement in North America, his courage and vision earning him worldwide renown among every friend and foe alike of Aryan man. Bob endured repeated assault; a life of grim poverty and unremitting hardship; six years of false imprisonment on perjured testimony in the worst hellhole of America's prison system as well as a disgraceful attempt in 1987 to imprison him yet again on bogus sedition charges; decades of spying and harassment; the imprisonment and murder of friends and family members; and an avalanche of media abuse and defamation without parallel in the annals of gutter journalism.
They never broke him. Bob Miles met and overcame every attack, every ordeal which this evil regime inflicted on him, and he did so with a calm courage, a quiet dignity, and an irrepressible charm and humor which, more than anything else Bob did or said or wrote, drove the Jews and their lickspittle lackeys in the United States government to enraged distraction.
Bob Miles clearly understood something which many in our Movement have lost sight of, which is that death is no big deal. It is an inevitable fact of existence, to be accepted philosophically and met with dignity when the time comes. What matters is how one lives, what one leaves behind in the way of accumulated knowledge, experience, and moral example. For all of us today and for comrades of the future, role models don't come any stronger or more admirable than Bob Miles.
More than any White racial nationalist patriotin contemporary times, Bob lived his simple, powerful philosophy, which he sometimes referred to by the Irish Gaelic name of Sinn Fein, "Ourselves Alone." To Bob it was all very straightforward. Aryan man is the pinnacle of God's creation; we don't need anything which any other race or culture can offer us in exchange for admixture. All that is necessary to preserve our race and ensure a future for our seed among the stars is a simple recognition of who we are, and the spiritual willpower to just say no to every poisoned chalice, every rotten sweetmeat of which the Jew urges us to partake.
Bob understood the one basic principle which holds the key to our entire struggle, yet which seems so incredibly difficult for many of us to grasp; which indeed, some of us never succeed in grasping.
The Jews are not the problem, nor are the blacks or the Hispanics or the politicians or the international bankers or the Communists or any other grouping of our racial adversaries. We are the problem. Our weakness, our laziness, our profound moral cowardice, our craven unwillingness to place our physical bodies and our creature comforts at risk, as Bob himself did without fear or hesitation.
When we look in a mirror, there we see our enemy. But if we look hard enough, we can see Bob Miles standing behind us, a smile on his face and his hand on our shoulder to guide and uplift and strengthen us, as ever he did when he was with us here in life.
In ancient Celtic times, when a High King of Tara died, messengers were despatched in swift chariots riding the length and breadth of all Ireland, from Antrim in the north to Kerry in the southwest. At each village and crossroads and castle they came to, these couriers cried out, "The mountain has fallen!"
Our mountain has fallen, but his spirit lives on, and it is strong.