Unified Revolutionary Theory
A study of how revolutionary theory, as presented by successful revolutionaries can be applied to the American context
I have seen many people, talk about “read siege”, and other some such nonsense like this. Its always interesting to me how people can be taken in by such a charlatan. James Mason has never been a revolutionary, he has never participated in a revolution, failed or successful. His only claim to fame is going on podcasts with Satanists, writing fedslop to convince schizos to join online pedophilia cults (764). And himself is a 5 time convicted pedophile whose never been to prison. interesting achievement
I myself got out of the army, and got in trouble one single time, for a bar fight with a black dude twice my size, who sucker punched me, and got sent to prison for it and had the supposedly super tough guy come to my trial and cry on the stand about how *I* supposedly victimized him. In a system where according to the tv White people just never get charged for any crime, I went to prison, my first time ever in trouble, for fighting someone who punched me from behind while I was sitting down. Yet Mason can molest children(5 times) and never spend a day in jail.
Whats more, Andrew Anglin allegedly made a JOKE about a fat woman, that supposedly caused MILLIONS of people to make jokes about her, and had to flee the country, running from the FBI for it. Weev logged into an unsecure terminal at a university and printed out a flyer that said “ its okay to be White, Love yourself” and again had to flee to Transniestria, escaping an FBI manhunt. Yet James Mason wrote a book that inspired schizophrenic retards to kill people(mostly fellow members of their own satanist group), molest children, create cults on the internet to share child self harm videos, and to steal Uranium in an attempt to create a dirty bomb, and he doesn’t spend a day in jail.
So lets put this federal pervert behind us, and learn from the people who weren’t playing at revolution.
American Juche revolution – A Unified Theory of Revolutionary Strategy
Table of Contents
Introduction: Revolution as Moral Duty and Strategic Science
· Defining revolution
· Violence only under tyrannical collapse
· Rejecting lone-wolf action and terrorism
· Overview of ideological foundations
Chapter 1: Lenin and the Conditions for Revolution
· The three preconditions: ruling class crisis, mass discontent, vanguard leadership
· Dictatorship of the proletariat and role of the party
· Legacy and modern applicability
Chapter 2: Trotsky and the Theory of Permanent Revolution
· Continuous revolution across stages
· Internationalism vs national sovereignty
· Why permanent revolution fails without cultural rooting
Chapter 3: Mao Zedong and Sankara – Mass Line and Revolutionary Ethics
· The role of the peasantry and popular participation
· Cultural revolution and internal purification
· Sankara’s moral economy and anti-imperialism
Chapter 4: Che Guevara, Castro, and the Foco Vanguard
· Foco theory: revolution through armed moral example
· Lessons from Cuba and Bolivia
· Limitations of romanticism and unprepared masses
Chapter 5: Marighella and the Urban Guerrilla Blueprint
· Decentralized cells, sabotage, and asymmetry
· Tactical advantage in urban American environments
· Where Marighella ends and disciplined strategy begins
Chapter 6: Kim Il-Sung and Juche as the Revolution Perfected
· The Suryong principle
· Self-reliance, ideological discipline, total state mobilization
· Juche vs Soviet and Maoist paths
Chapter 7: Franco Freda and the Theory of Disintegration
· Discrediting and collapsing liberal-democratic legitimacy
· Sabotage of consensus, accelerationist elements
· Dangers of nihilism, value of strategic disruption
Chapter 8: General Grivas and ethno-revolution
Chapter 9: Corneliu Codreanu and the Legionary Spirit
· The revolutionary spiritual elite
· National myth, sacrifice, and moral purity
· Pitfalls of mysticism without mass material grounding
Chapter 10: The Role of Myth, Spirit, and Strike – Sorel and Evola
· Revolutionary myth and collective will
· The general strike as spiritual purification
· Evola’s warrior-aristocrat vs the modern bureaucrat
Chapter 11: The Failure of Western Marxism and Imported Revolution
· Frankfurt School, identity obsession, and Antifa liberalism
· Why revolutions cannot be outsourced
· The necessity of the White working class and national brotherhood
Chapter 12: Toward American Juche – Revolutionary Sovereignty and National Harmony
· A system for the post-collapse era
· Sovereign ethnic republics and federal identity
· Vanguard leadership and a disciplined revolutionary elite
Conclusion: The Revolution That Comes After
· Ethical high ground in strategy and action
· Rejecting terror, embracing leadership
· Revolution only when collapse demands it
· A new dawn built from ruins
Introduction: Revolution as Moral Duty and Strategic Science
A revolution, properly understood, is neither anarchy nor nihilism. It is a conscious, disciplined process aimed at the liberation and reorganization of a people when the ruling class has lost its legitimacy and the structures of power no longer serve the general welfare. To speak of revolution in America today is not to call for violence, terrorism, or lone wolf destruction. It is to prepare, ethically and ideologically, for the collapse of a system that is rapidly decaying under its own contradictions—economic, cultural, racial, and political.
We must begin this inquiry with a moral statement: we do not advocate violence under the present conditions of free and fair elections. The current American government, extremely flawed though it may be, remains formally democratic. The revolutionary framework laid out in this text is a strategic doctrine only to be activated in the event of a catastrophic collapse or transition into tyranny—an event many consider possible but none should welcome. Until such time, the revolution must be intellectual, spiritual, organizational. I say this not because I have some loyalty to the American government, on the contrary, it is firstly a moral issue, individuals like the scumbag who shot up several overweight black women at the walmart in buffalo are twisted and evil. But second, its just basic realism, revolutions depend on the people, becoming evil hated criminals is not conducive to achieving a successful revolution, we have to maintain the moral and ethical high ground. As unromantic as that may be to those acheing for action now.
This document draws upon the full legacy of revolutionary thought—from Marx and Lenin to Guevara, Mao, Kim Il Sung, Freda, Codreanu, Evola, and others. But it does not worship any of them. The revolution must be rooted in our soil, adapted to our conditions, and led by our people. That is the essential insight of Juche: no people can be liberated except by their own hands. And no borrowed theory, no internationalist abstraction, can substitute for the soul of a nation rising to its feet.
We will examine in detail the revolutionary strategies of the 20th and 21st centuries, drawing from each the useful tools: Lenin’s vanguard party and theory of crisis; Mao’s mass line and moral purification; Guevara’s foco and romanticism of the communist militant; Marighella’s asymmetrical tactics; Kim’s perfected model of total sovereign revolution; Freda’s concept of systemic disintegration; Codreanu’s spiritual discipline; Sorel’s myth and general strike; Evola’s transcendental aristocratism. And at each step, we will ask: how can this apply to modern America?
We will also discuss what has failed: the Western Marxism of the modern academic left, its hatred for the White working class, its worship of foreign populations as revolutionary agents, its inability to mobilize beyond controlled opposition. It is these failures, and the growing deracination, despair, and inequality in America, that make this question urgent.
At the center of this new theory is American Juche—a doctrine of national-revolutionary renewal that embraces sovereignty, racial and class brotherhood, ethical discipline, spiritual leadership, and total systemic transformation. A movement that builds institutions, not chaos. That seeks to win legitimacy, not merely destroy. And that preserves the ethical high ground until the system, through its own contradictions, has rendered itself unfit to govern.
Only then—and only with moral clarity and organizational preparedness—may a true revolution be born. This is not the work of one man or one generation, but the laying of the foundation stones for the world that comes after the collapse.
Chapter 1: Lenin and the Conditions for Revolution
No discussion of revolutionary theory can begin without Vladimir Ilyich Lenin, whose synthesis of Marxist thought and real-world political strategy remains the foundation of every successful revolutionary effort since the Bolshevik seizure of power in 1917. While Marx and Engels offered a profound theory of class struggle and historical materialism, it was Lenin who gave the revolution a concrete form.
At the heart of Leninist theory are three conditions required for revolution:
A crisis in the ruling class: The existing state and its elite must be in a state of disarray, no longer able to rule in the traditional manner. This may result from war, economic collapse, corruption, or a legitimacy crisis. The apparatus of rule begins to fracture, and factions within the elite lose confidence or turn on one another.
Heightened suffering and agitation among the masses: The working class and oppressed must experience conditions that are intolerable, coupled with a new political consciousness that their suffering is unnecessary. Misery alone is not enough—there must be an awakening to the fact that the current system cannot deliver justice.
A disciplined revolutionary vanguard: Without an organized, ideologically hardened leadership core capable of seizing the moment, no spontaneous rebellion can become a revolution. The vanguard serves as the brain and spine of the revolutionary organism—educating, organizing, and directing the masses.
Lenin was unequivocal: revolution is not spontaneous. It must be planned, led, and disciplined. The party must operate as a "general staff of the proletariat," uniting theory with action. This is why Lenin’s Vanguardist model emphasized centralization of decision-making, ideological unity, and iron discipline—not out of lust for control, but to avoid chaos and betrayal during the revolutionary moment.
Equally central to Lenin’s thought is the concept of the dictatorship of the proletariat—a transitional phase in which the working class, organized through its party and councils (soviets), dismantles the bourgeois state and constructs a new system under its own hegemony. In Lenin’s view, this was not tyranny but liberation: the dictatorship of the many over the few, as opposed to the existing dictatorship of the few over the many.
Yet Lenin also warned against adventurism. He knew that revolution could not be wished into existence. The “conditions” must be materially and historically ripe. Thus, a Leninist movement does not seek to overthrow a functioning democratic state—it waits and prepares for the moment when contradictions make governance untenable.
In the American context, this means that revolution cannot and must not begin in a time of functional constitutional governance and electoral participation. To do so would be terrorism and sabotage, not liberation. A revolutionary movement must instead:
Build an ideological vanguard rooted in real American social classes
Construct parallel institutions that serve the people ethically and effectively
Expose and record the system’s injustices while maintaining moral clarity
Wait until the ruling order has delegitimized itself fully, through tyranny or collapse
Lenin’s insight remains timeless: without organization, consciousness, and timing, even the most justified anger leads to defeat. The vanguard must move only when the hour arrives—when the ruling elite is fractured, the working class is awake, and the revolutionary party is ready.
Lenin's failure to account for nationalism, racial identity, or the organic culture of the people may be where Juche departs and improves upon him—but his model of revolutionary mechanics remains essential. The American Juche movement must internalize this discipline: a revolution is not a riot—it is a replacement. And it must be built long before it is declared.
Chapter 2: Trotsky and the Theory of Permanent Revolution
Leon Trotsky, perhaps Lenin’s most brilliant lieutenant and later his most famous dissenter, advanced a revolutionary theory that would shape the course of the international left for the next century: Permanent Revolution. Trotsky’s theory begins from a Marxist critique of historical development in “backward” or semi-feudal societies, but ends in a call for a never-ending, globally expansive revolution—one that cannot be confined within national borders or arrested at the socialist stage.
Trotsky argued that in underdeveloped nations, the bourgeoisie was too cowardly, too intertwined with imperial capital, and too reactionary to carry out its “historic” tasks of democratization and industrialization. Therefore, it would fall to the proletariat to lead the revolution, not just against feudal landlords, but against the capitalist order itself. But here lies Trotsky’s radicalism: this revolution must not stop at the national level or pause for “stages.”
The revolution must be permanent. It must continually deepen within a given country while expanding outward across national borders. No single socialist state, according to Trotsky, could survive in isolation. The bourgeoisie of the world would never tolerate a lone red republic, and without international support, socialism would wither under blockade, sabotage, or bureaucratization.
This belief formed the basis of Trotsky’s lifelong opposition to Stalin’s “Socialism in One Country.” Where Stalin believed that the USSR could and must consolidate socialism within its borders, Trotsky held that such a retreat would inevitably lead to degeneration, as the revolutionary energy would be exhausted and turned inward.
In practice, Permanent Revolution becomes both a theory of class dynamics and a geopolitical imperative. Trotsky’s calls for world revolution found echo in Mao’s rhetoric, Guevara’s continental ambitions, and numerous failed leftist internationalist experiments. The theory has elegance, but also blind spots—and it is these that the American Juche strategist must examine carefully.
The Limitations of Permanent Revolution
Trotsky’s theory was deeply idealistic and tragically universalist. It presumes a shared revolutionary consciousness across nations and cultures—a premise contradicted by every successful revolution in history. It also neglects the role of rooted national identity, spiritual-cultural coherence, and traditional authority.
It assumes that a worker in Bolivia, a peasant in Cambodia, or a soldier in Poland can be mobilized by the same slogans, the same ideological instruments, and the same methods of struggle. History suggests otherwise. The Vietnamese fought with nationalism and peasant communism. The Cubans invoked moral purity and anti-colonial dignity. The North Koreans rooted their struggle in racial identity, national sovereignty, and the divine figure of their leader.
Trotsky also failed to develop a positive model of post-revolutionary authority. His rejection of Stalin’s bureaucratic consolidation left him with no clear mechanism for defending the revolution once power was seized. Permanent revolution became an endless storm—powerful, but directionless.
Applying Lessons to the American Context
For an American revolutionary framework, Trotsky offers a vital warning: do not rely on the bourgeoisie. They will always choose capital over country, and empire over people. He also reminds us that revolutions must not pause—they must deepen and expand until the entire system is transformed.
But he fails where Juche succeeds: the necessity of national-cultural coherence, of racial and civilizational rootedness, and of a leader-principle to incarnate the revolution. A revolution cannot be permanent unless it is anchored. It cannot survive export unless it has a strong home.
American Juche must thus draw from Trotsky:
The courage to bypass the bourgeois class and lead directly
The understanding that a revolution cannot be confined to “stages” if the system is collapsing
The insight that global finance capital will always attempt to strangle a local revolution
But it must reject Trotsky’s universalism, international abstraction, and political vagueness. American Juche must be national, spiritual, and leader-centered—a revolution rooted in the land and soul of its people, not floating in the ether of Marxist orthodoxy.
In the final analysis, Trotsky’s Permanent Revolution is a comet: brilliant, fast-moving, and doomed to burn out. It teaches movement, not foundation. Juche is the mountain. Permanent Revolution is the flame. Both are needed—but only one can hold a nation.
Chapter 3: Mao and the Mass Line of Continuous Revolution
Where Lenin built the machine of revolution and Trotsky envisioned it rolling endlessly across the globe, Mao Zedong turned it inward—into a self-correcting, cyclical force meant to purify and regenerate the revolution perpetually. Mao's theory of continuous revolution was both a practical response to the bureaucratization of the Soviet model and a deeply metaphysical interpretation of historical struggle.
Mao believed that contradictions do not vanish with the establishment of a socialist state. Class struggle persists under socialism, because old habits, cultural norms, and elite formations do not disappear overnight. Instead, they retreat into the party itself, into the intelligentsia, into the very apparatus meant to defend the revolution.
Thus, the revolution must be ongoing. Mao called for a process of cultural, spiritual, and ideological reawakening to defeat revisionism and bureaucratism. This culminated in the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution (1966–1976), where students, peasants, and workers were encouraged to rise up against entrenched authorities—including those within the Communist Party itself.
The Mass Line
Central to Mao's method was the mass line: the dialectical unity between leadership and the people. The role of the revolutionary elite was not to dictate from above, but to “go to the masses,” collect their grievances, filter them through ideological understanding, and return with a synthesized program of action. This back-and-forth loop was intended to keep the revolution honest and to prevent bureaucratic fossilization.
The mass line also transformed the base of revolutionary legitimacy. Mao emphasized that China’s revolution was peasant-based, unlike Marx’s industrial model. The poor farmer, the barefoot soldier, the young woman with no education—all were rightful heirs to revolutionary authority. In this sense, Mao democratized Marxism and spiritualized it. Revolution was not merely about who owned the means of production—it was about who had the moral and ideological clarity to defend the people’s interest.
The Red Guard and the Dangers of Unmoored Revolution
While visionary in its intent, the Cultural Revolution also revealed the dangers of perpetual revolution without proper checks. In mobilizing the youth and encouraging class vengeance, Mao’s movement also enabled factional chaos, violence against teachers and intellectuals, and instability within the state. The Red Guards became both sword and wildfire—purifying, yes, but also indiscriminate.
Yet even in this chaos, a kernel of genius remains. Mao understood that revolutions do not end—they ossify. The only way to ensure the long-term survival of a revolutionary order is to rotate elites, purge corrupt layers, and continually renew the revolutionary spirit. In contrast to Soviet-style stagnation, Mao sought eternal revolutionary health—even at great risk.
Maoism and the American Juche Strategy
Mao’s insights are indispensable for any serious American revolutionary theory:
The mass line must become central. No revolution can be elite-driven alone. The people must be heard and engaged, constantly.
The working poor, rural populations, and alienated youth must be politically empowered, not merely organized. These are the spiritual engine of change.
The revolution must have a mechanism of self-purification, a means of removing corruption from within.
Yet Mao’s flaws must also be addressed. The American revolutionary movement must learn from the chaos of the Cultural Revolution. We must not lose control of revolutionary forces. American Juche must synthesize Mao’s mass line and moral warfare with organizational discipline, ideological clarity, and a firm chain of command.
Moreover, Mao’s class analysis must be nationalized. In America, race, region, and national identity play a more immediate role in class formation than they did in mid-century China. Our version of the mass line must speak differently to Appalachian coal miners, inner-city tenants, borderland ranchers, and suburban dispossessed.
The Ethical Core of Maoism
Mao’s communism was not merely material—it was deeply ethical. He called for cadres to “serve the people” with humility, sacrifice, and idealism. He attacked privilege and hierarchy wherever it reappeared. He understood that power corrupts, and the only antidote is continuous revolutionary vigilance.
This is perhaps Mao’s greatest gift to American Juche: the eternal suspicion of ossification. We must never become what we fight. The American revolution must renew itself, cyclically, spiritually, and institutionally.
Chapter 4: Guevara and the Foco of Moral Vanguardism
If Lenin gave revolution its structure and Mao gave it rhythm, Ernesto “Che” Guevara gave it spirit. His legacy is less about party-building or grand theory, and more about personal example, revolutionary integrity, and the ignition of change through sacrificial struggle. Guevara is the poet-warrior of the revolution, the saint of praxis.
At the center of Guevara’s revolutionary thought is the foco theory—short for "foquismo"—the idea that a small group of committed revolutionaries, through guerrilla warfare and moral example, can ignite revolutionary consciousness among the masses. The foco does not wait for ideal conditions; it creates them through action, bravery, and selflessness.
The Foco as Seed of Revolution
Che’s theory arose from his experience in the Cuban Revolution, where he, Fidel Castro, and a handful of guerrillas launched a rebellion from the Sierra Maestra mountains. Despite impossible odds, they prevailed—not merely because of military tactics, but because their actions demonstrated that resistance was possible. They became myth.
The foco operates as both armed vanguard and spiritual catalyst. Its mission is not just to destroy, but to inspire. By living among the people, sharing their burdens, and embodying revolutionary ethics, the foco sparks mass awakening. Che emphasized this: the revolutionary must be a moral being, a builder of the “new man,” immune to corruption, individualism, or compromise.
The Moral Example
For Guevara, victory was secondary to moral clarity. He rejected both capitalist greed and Soviet bureaucratic stagnation. He envisioned a socialism driven by voluntary labor, self-sacrifice, and ethical beauty. He even gave up his Cuban citizenship and government position to fight in the Congo and Bolivia—because revolution was not a job, but a destiny.
This emphasis on ethics makes Che indispensable to American Juche. While Lenin gives us discipline and Mao gives us structure, Che gives us soul. The American revolutionary movement must cultivate a generation of leaders who do not seek privilege or power, but embody the future they promise.
Why Foco Alone Fails
However, foco theory has limits. It is not scalable without broader mass support and political infrastructure. Che’s death in Bolivia—where he failed to gain peasant backing—proved that romanticism without mass connection becomes martyrdom, not revolution. Without a disciplined party, ideological clarity, and popular legitimacy, foco becomes adventurism.
Moreover, the modern surveillance state, with drones, satellites, and omnipresent data, renders traditional guerrilla warfare more vulnerable than in Che’s era. Foco theory must evolve.
The Foco in the American Context
Still, the essence of foco remains powerful:
The living example of revolutionaries matters more than any pamphlet.
Courage inspires more than theory.
Revolutionary ethics are the immune system against corruption and authoritarian drift.
In American Juche, the foco becomes a cultural and institutional vanguard:
Infiltrating corrupted systems not to accommodate, but to inspire and subvert.
Serving the people through parallel institutions—schools, clinics, food programs—not just as service, but as ideological warfare.
Embodying moral superiority over both the capitalist state and degenerate leftism.
Che also understood that a revolution must be rooted in national conditions. He called for adapting tactics to local terrain, culture, and psychology. For America, this means:
Emphasizing decentralized cells trained in ideological and ethical discipline.
Building foci of revolutionary legitimacy—places, people, and organizations that radiate moral authority.
Acting only when the people are ready—not merely physically, but spiritually.
The Saint of Revolutionary Integrity
Che was not perfect. His belief in armed struggle sometimes blinded him to cultural strategy. His idealism cost him his life. Yet in his death, he became a myth that outlived states and parties.
In the fusion we are creating—a Juche for America—Che’s image must be resurrected: not as a romantic guerrilla, but as a moral compass. In the age of lies, betrayal, and ideological cowardice, we need leaders who live and die by their ideals, not their careers.
Che’s foco is not just a tactic. It is a soul. The revolution begins with the one who lives it.
Guevara’s revolutionary theory was not merely tactical or ideological—it was deeply moral and existential. His foco theory centered not only on guerrilla warfare, but on the spiritual transformation of both the militant and the masses. At the core of his thought was the concept of the hombre nuevo—the New Man—whose character, actions, and sacrifice would inspire the people to rise.
The guerrilla, in Guevara’s image, was not a bandit or insurgent for hire. He was a heroic superman—self-sacrificing, disciplined, ascetic, brave, and driven by a profound sense of justice. In Guerrilla Warfare and other writings, Guevara repeatedly emphasized that the revolutionary must be a model of moral and physical courage. The revolutionary militant was not just a fighter; he was a saint of struggle.
Guevara and Castro both cultivated this image publicly. Their writings, speeches, and propaganda all reinforced the aesthetic of the revolutionary as héroe. Images of Che in fatigues, cigar in hand, leading from the front, living in harsh conditions, sharing food and danger with peasants, became central to the mythos of Cuban resistance. They understood that guerrilla warfare depended not only on tactics, but on myth-making—the romanticization of resistance to tyranny, the embodiment of revolutionary virtue.
This vision of the revolutionary as heroic superman served several purposes in foco theory:
Inspiration to the Masses: Even if the foco was small, its visibility and moral clarity could galvanize disaffected populations. The heroic image gave the people something to believe in—proof that resistance was not only possible, but noble.
Internal Discipline: By holding militants to a near-spiritual code of conduct—honesty, courage, self-sacrifice—Guevara ensured that the foco would not devolve into criminality or nihilism. The image restrained ego, guided behavior, and cultivated esprit de corps.
Moral Legitimacy: The optics of the guerrilla leader as humble, disciplined, and ethical contrasted powerfully with the corrupt, decadent regimes they fought. It shifted global opinion, attracted allies, and undermined enemy propaganda.
Personal Transformation: Guevara believed that revolutionary war was not only about changing society—it was about changing the man himself. The struggle forged a new kind of human being, purified by hardship and united with the people.
This model has lasting power. Even outside Cuba, revolutionary movements that embraced this archetype—be it in Nicaragua, Vietnam, or Algeria—gained moral and symbolic traction. By contrast, those movements that descended into terror, egoism, or nihilism (e.g., the Red Brigades or Sendero Luminoso) ultimately alienated the populations they claimed to serve.
For American Juche, this archetype remains vital. The revolutionary must be a model of self-discipline, courage, humility, and moral clarity. He must endure hardship without bitterness, serve the people without arrogance, and lead by example—not decree. Like Che, he must fight not for power, but for justice. And he must look the part: clean, strong, humble, and fearless.
The heroic militant is not an outdated myth—it is the eternal symbol of a revolution worth believing in. American Juche must elevate this archetype not for vanity, but for vision. In a world of collapsing norms, the image of a man (or woman) who lives for others, suffers with honor, and fights for the sacred—becomes not just revolutionary, but divine.
In my youth, I was greatly inspired by Robert Jay Matthews of the order, I had dreamed about going into the mountains to wage war, collecting men along the way, and slowly but surely bringing it down. Perhaps the day will still come. Either way, Guevara provides us an example of action. Each man as living symbol, where we choose each day to live and breathe revolution and inspire it wherever we go.
Chapter 5:Marighella and the Doctrine of Urban Insurgency
Carlos Marighella, a Brazilian Marxist and revolutionary, authored one of the most influential guerrilla manuals of the 20th century: the Minimanual of the Urban Guerrilla. In contrast to the rural insurgency of Mao and Che, Marighella recognized the need for a theory tailored to highly urbanized, semi-industrial societies. His strategy addressed the reality of repressive regimes that controlled cities through police terror, surveillance, and state media.
Where Guevara’s foco emerged from the jungle, Marighella’s emerged from the favelas, the tenements, and the slums. He articulated a theory of revolution suited not for peasant armies or mountain campaigns, but for crowded cities and authoritarian democracies. In this way, Marighella serves as a critical bridge between classical guerrilla theory and modern revolutionary praxis in the West.
The Urban Guerrilla as Revolutionary Catalyst
Marighella believed that revolutionaries operating in the city had unique tools at their disposal: anonymity, mobility, and saturation. He proposed that the urban guerrilla should:
Conduct rapid, low-risk attacks to disorient state forces.
Create a narrative of resistance that exposes the weakness of the regime.
Avoid direct engagement with the military, focusing instead on symbolic targets.
Operate in small autonomous cells, impossible to fully infiltrate or suppress.
This decentralized model relied not on massive coordination but on strategic chaos—each action causing disproportionate reaction from the state, leading to delegitimization and overreach.
Unlike Mao’s emphasis on protracted people’s war or Lenin’s need for a tightly organized party structure, Marighella’s insurgents were minimal in number but maximal in symbolic impact. The key, in his words, was “to make the enemy believe we are everywhere.”
Psychological Warfare and Propaganda
Marighella emphasized that victory was not won by brute force alone, but by psychological destabilization. Each action had to communicate a message:
That the regime was not omnipotent.
That resistance was possible.
That the guerrillas were morally superior to the corrupt elites.
Even when militarily minor, attacks had major propaganda value. In this, Marighella’s strategy overlaps with the aesthetics of terrorism, but with a disciplined moral framework: never target civilians, never act wantonly. Every act must have a pedagogical function—to educate the masses and demoralize the regime.
The urban guerrilla must be equal parts fighter, educator, propagandist, and mythmaker.
Limitations and Failures
Marighella was assassinated in 1969, and his tactics were brutally suppressed by the Brazilian military dictatorship. Many of his disciples were killed, tortured, or disappeared. The limits of the model were made clear:
Urban guerrillas, while harder to detect, had fewer safe zones.
The absence of rural bases or mass party support made long-term operations difficult.
Without parallel institutions, victories became symbolic rather than structural.
Nonetheless, Marighella’s doctrine remains potent—particularly in societies where rural insurgency is impossible, and where state control is strongest in the cities.
American Application: The War of Perception
In the American context, Marighella’s insights are critical not for tactical replication, but for strategic adaptation. The modern state thrives on perception—legitimacy is maintained by the illusion of consent, stability, and inevitability.
Urban guerrilla principles translate today into:
Information warfare: memes, leaks, and symbolic disruption of media narratives.
Legal insurgency: coordinated litigation, mass refusal to comply, exposure of state contradictions.
Parallel institutions in the urban cores—cafes, tech hubs, underground schools, and service collectives.
The goal is to create the sense that the revolution is already here, already functional, already moral. The state becomes a husk—obsolete, defensive, disoriented.
American Juche does not advocate urban terrorism. But it does adopt Marighella’s core lesson: in modern society, legitimacy is perception. And perception can be ruptured by small, disciplined, morally powerful acts.
Thus, Marighella lives not through bombs, but through symbols. Not through destruction, but through replacement. His greatest weapon was not the pistol—it was the idea that the system can be defied.
Chapter 6: Kim Il Sung and Juche as the Apex of Revolution
While Lenin provided the strategy, Mao the structure, and Che the spirit, it is Kim Il Sung who offered the ideological synthesis that completes them all. Juche, the guiding doctrine of the Korean revolution, represents the perfection of revolution in practice and theory—a system not only to win power, but to sustain it with moral legitimacy, cultural unity, and national sovereignty.
Juche, often misunderstood in the West as merely a euphemism for dictatorship, is in fact a philosophy of people-centered revolutionary governance. Its central tenet is that “man is the master of everything and decides everything.” It places the human being—not economics, not historical inevitability—at the center of revolutionary history.
Core Principles of Juche
Political Independence (Jaju) – A nation must be sovereign in its decision-making and not subject to foreign domination or ideological puppeteering. Revolution cannot be imported or dictated—it must emerge from the people’s historical experience and national consciousness.
Economic Self-Sufficiency (Jaryok) – Revolution must not rely on capitalist trade or foreign aid. A true socialist system builds internal capability and resists dependency. Juche economics is both practical and spiritual: the economy is not just about growth, but about autonomy.
Military Self-Defense (Jawi) – No revolution survives without the capacity to defend itself. This is not militarism, but sovereignty through strength. The people’s army is both shield and sword, fused with the masses.
The Suryong Principle: Leader as Embodiment of the Nation
Juche also formalizes the suryong principle, the idea of a great leader who is not merely a politician, but the living embodiment of the people’s will, spirit, and unity. The suryong is not a tyrant but a moral father—beloved, studied, and obeyed because he represents the collective destiny of the people.
This is not a cult—it is a spiritual technology. By fusing nation and leadership, Juche overcomes liberalism’s chaos and Marxism’s impersonal class abstractions. The suryong is the axis around which the revolution orbits, uniting all classes in a national family.
Juche’s Departure from Classical Marxism
Juche radically departs from orthodox Marxism in its rejection of class determinism. It recognizes class struggle, but prioritizes national unity and cultural identity. Unlike Marx, who envisioned a classless international future, Juche embraces national particularism as the soil in which socialism must grow.
This is what makes Juche so adaptable—it does not export ideology like a virus, but encourages each people to develop their own revolutionary path. Just as Korea needed Juche, America will need American Juche—rooted in its own traditions, identity, and conditions.
Juche in Practice
North Korea, despite isolation and immense pressure, has maintained sovereignty for over 75 years—without foreign occupation, regime change, or liberal erosion. Its people, though poor by global standards, are unified, dignified, and disciplined. Juche’s success is not in GDP, but in the unbroken continuity of its revolution. Hell, right now North Koreans are fighting in Ukraine, using their own domestically produced weapons, drones, tanks, vehicles, and artillery. and according to Ukrainian reports on the ground, are exponentially growing in combat effectiveness
Contrast this with every other socialist experiment: the Soviet Union collapsed into oligarchy, China mutated into techno-capitalism, Cuba opened to tourism, Vietnam went neoliberal. Only Juche survives as revolution eternal.
Lessons for American Juche
From Kim Il Sung we learn:
Build from your own people, not borrowed ideologies.
Cultural and national identity are not reactionary—they are revolutionary.
The leader must be more than a bureaucrat—he must be the people’s moral soul.
Self-reliance is not isolation—it is independence.
In our American Juche, the suryong principle will be adapted as an elected and sanctified national father, advised by a bicameral council of professions and nationalities. Sovereignty, culture, and the soul of the people will be placed above market, party, or globalist abstraction.
Juche as Apex
Juche completes what others began. It absorbs Lenin’s vanguard, Trotsky’s dynamism, Mao’s people’s movement, and Che’s ethics—and fuses them with national soul, cultural rootedness, and spiritual destiny.
Where others revolutionize governments, Juche revolutionizes nations. And that is what America now requires: not just political change, but a new national soul.
Juche is the apex of revolution—and the foundation upon which a post-collapse America must build. As a nation so ripped apart by identity, I firmly believe an identitarian communism is the only way. Orthodox ML will not work because of the inability for what are in effect, culturally, completely seperate civilizations living next door from each other (White and Black Americans) to organize collectively. So they simply fight. Juche takes the concept of revolution, and fits it to reality of the nation in question. Which is why it works, it produces no systemic contradictions that arise by placing an inorganic and inauthentic system on a people. The Soviets learned this the hardway, the Russian Empire, was a nation based on the Russian people dominating others and bringing them into their world, they first tried to relieve this pressure with the nationalities policy, but the constantly changing technocratic leadership eventually turned back to Russification, as is natural, and then other leaders to overcompensate for that did things like, well what we see in Ukraine today, the entire eastern and south eastern half of Ukraine is ethnically Russian and was just artificially attached to Ukraine. Ukraine itself was, depending on who you ask, Galicia, or the Cossack territory in Zaporizhia, but not both, and certainly was never Novo Rossiya(eastern Ukraine) which has always had an ethnic Russian and Russian speaking Ukrainian Majority.
Chapter 7: Western Marxism and the Revolt Against the Working Class
If Juche is revolution perfected, then Western Marxism represents revolution betrayed. Born from a fusion of postwar guilt, bourgeois academia, and cultural nihilism, Western Marxism has become a counterrevolution masquerading as leftism, defined by its hostility toward the very class it claims to liberate: the working class.
Origins and Key Thinkers
Western Marxism, particularly since the Frankfurt School, redirected Marxist analysis away from economic materialism toward cultural critique. Thinkers like Herbert Marcuse, Theodor Adorno, and later Michel Foucault and Judith Butler shifted the revolutionary focus from class oppression to cultural repression, from labor to language, from capital to normativity.
Where Marx wrote of industrial exploitation, they wrote of sexual repression. Where Lenin called for seizing the means of production, they urged deconstruction of power through universities, media, and identity discourse.
Class Treason in Theory
This shift had profound effects. Western Marxism, in prioritizing abstract structures of “privilege,” turned its ire not on capitalists but on the white, male, Christian, working-class population—who were suddenly reimagined as oppressors rather than oppressed. The factory worker was now a bigot. The coal miner, a patriarch. The union organizer, a reactionary.
It is not coincidental that this theory found traction in elite universities and foundations, not in factories or farms. Western Marxism is a theory of the ruling class designed to divide and denature the proletariat. It justifies imported labor, woke capital, and identity essentialism—all of which weaken the class unity needed for revolution.
The Anti-Worker Nature of Cultural Leftism
The practical result of this ideology is a new elite morality that rewards deracination, self-hatred, and denunciation. Identity politics, once a call for solidarity, has become a caste system:
Whiteness is original sin.
Maleness is pathology.
Christianity is fascism.
Patriotism is violence.
The cultural left celebrates the destruction of traditional families, local economies, and national borders—all of which are bulwarks of working-class life. All of these things that the left hates, are pointed out by Marx in his theory of human alienation. In place of revolution, they offer endless grievance, with no unifying vision or achievable end goal. To go deeper we need to look at what the Frankfurt school is and believes and how it contrasts with orthodox Marxism.
To begin we need to understand Marx’s theory of alienation.
The concept of alienation (Entfremdung) is among the most foundational and enduring elements of Karl Marx’s early philosophical work, and it’s inversion remains a central pillar in the evolution of Western Marxism. First articulated in his Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844, Marx’s theory of alienation sought to diagnose a spiritual and material sickness that he believed was eating away at the heart of capitalist society. Unlike the mechanistic materialism of later Soviet orthodoxy, or the rigid historical determinism often ascribed to "scientific socialism," Marx’s theory of alienation focused on the lived human condition—how capitalism reshaped not only class relations but human consciousness, dignity, and being.
Alienation as a Social Condition
Fascism too, noticed and critiqued this as the primary problem of liberalism. Though seemingly opposed in political orientation, both Marxism and fascism arose in the 19th and 20th centuries as revolts against liberal modernity. Central to their worldviews is a shared recognition of a spiritual and social crisis engulfing modern man. Karl Marx diagnosed this crisis through his theory of alienation, identifying capitalism as the historical system that estranges human beings from their labor, community, essence, and one another. Fascist theorists such as Julius Evola and Francis Parker Yockey, on the other hand, described a condition of atomization, in which liberalism and capitalism dissolve all traditional bonds—religious, familial, hierarchical, and ethnic—leaving behind a deracinated, rootless individual unmoored from history, identity, and transcendence.
Despite their ideological antagonism, both critiques point to a common enemy: liberal-capitalist individualism, which they argue fragments human life into isolated, commodified, and spiritually empty units.
Marx rejected the notion that alienation was a merely psychological or metaphysical problem. Rather, he rooted it firmly in material conditions, emerging from the capitalist mode of production and the organization of labor. In contrast to Hegel, for whom alienation was a spiritual estrangement from the Absolute that could be reconciled through philosophy, Marx argued that alienation arose from the economic structure of society and could only be resolved by transforming that structure. Alienation was not a misunderstanding—it was a real and violent severing of the working man from their essence.
According to Marx, under capitalism, workers are alienated in four distinct but interrelated ways:
From the product of their labor: The commodities workers create are not theirs. They are appropriated by the capitalist and sold for profit. The more the worker produces, the poorer they become in relation to the wealth they generate. The product of labor stands opposed to the laborer as something foreign, hostile, and objectified.
From the act of production: Labor under capitalism becomes a means to an end—wages necessary for survival—rather than a fulfilling or creative act. The worker has no autonomy over the process or purpose of their labor. Labor is not an expression of the worker’s individuality but a mechanical routine dictated by external necessity.
From their “species-being”: Human beings, according to Marx, are naturally social and creative. In alienated labor, this essential nature is repressed. The worker becomes estranged from their own humanity, functioning not as a self-determining being but as a cog in the capitalist machine.
From other human beings: Capitalism replaces cooperative human relationships with competition and commodified interaction. Other workers become rivals in the labor market, and even personal relationships are shaped by economic pressures. Social bonds decay into transactional exchanges.
Marx’s theory of alienation is materialist in foundation. Under capitalism, the worker is severed from the fruits of his labor, the process of work, his species-being (human essence), and from others. This is not merely due to ideology or moral decay, but to private property, wage labor, and commodity production, which treat labor and life itself as something to be bought and sold. The marketplace becomes the defining social reality. In such a world, the worker’s creative energies and sense of purpose are subordinated to abstract economic forces and profits. Freedom becomes a legal fiction—what exists is formal freedom alongside material dependence.
For Marx, liberalism (in its classical, Adam Smithian form) is not a moral system but the ideological superstructure of the bourgeois mode of production. It promises liberty and equality but delivers exploitation and disconnection. In this, Marx’s critique is historical and revolutionary: he believes that alienation is a stage in human development, produced by historical conditions, and therefore can be overcome through a proletarian revolution and the eventual reunification of man with his labor, nature, and community in the coming communist society.
By contrast, thinkers such as Evola and Yockey approached the question not from a materialist or historical standpoint, but from a spiritual and civilizational one. For them, liberalism is not merely a phase—it is a perpetual negative, in Yockey’s words, a corrosive principle that dissolves every form of order, hierarchy, or metaphysical anchoring.
Yockey, in Imperium, writes that liberalism “destroys without building,” operating not as a worldview but as a dissolving solvent that breaks down race, nation, religion, and gender roles in the name of absolute individual freedom. Evola echoes this in his traditionalist writings, lamenting the rise of the “rootless individual,” a creature of the Enlightenment who has severed his link to the transcendent, to the organic traditions of blood, soil, and spirit. Capitalism, in this view, is not just economically exploitative, but civilizationally degenerative—turning kings into bankers, warriors into bureaucrats, and peoples into consumers.
For fascist theorists, the atomization of man is not accidental, but the logical outcome of liberal capitalism. Every tie that binds man to something greater—whether it be Church, Fatherland, or racial destiny—is gradually dissolved by liberalism’s unrelenting push for personal autonomy and moral permissiveness.
Despite differing vocabularies, both Marxist and fascist theories identify the same structural symptoms in liberal capitalism:
· A loss of community and solidarity—for Marx, through commodified labor; for Evola, through the erosion of traditional caste and hierarchy.
· A disruption of human purpose—for Marx, man is reduced to a laboring animal alienated from his creativity; for Yockey, to a consumer detached from destiny.
· A sense of spiritual void—Marx points to species-being lost in wage labor; Evola to the collapse of sacred kingship and divine order.
· The isolation of the individual—rendered powerless and rootless under either wage slavery (Marx) or democratic liberalism (Yockey).
While the proscriptions are quite similar the prescriptive diverges. Marx proposes a revolutionary overcoming of alienation by transforming the economic base—abolishing private property, ending exploitation, and creating a classless society in which man’s labor becomes a true expression of self and solidarity. He envisions progress, albeit revolutionary, leading to a future reconciliation between man and humanity.
Fascist theorists, on the other hand, reject the notion of historical progress. For them, decay is the price of modernity, and the answer is not liberation, but restoration: a return to hierarchy, myth, sacred authority, and heroic action. Evola, in particular, advocated for a kind of spiritual aristocracy, capable of standing “against the modern world” by reviving metaphysical principles and waging a vertical revolt—not against capital per se, but against the leveling impulse of democracy and materialism.
Thus, while Marx seeks the realization of human essence through collective labor, fascists and traditionalists seek the re-subjugation of the masses to higher, transcendent ideals, often racial, spiritual, or civilizational in nature.
Both theories speak to the collapse of meaning under liberal capitalism, and both recognize that man cannot live on autonomy alone. Marx sees in this collapse the opportunity for a new unity of mankind, based on shared labor and mutual recognition. The fascist tradition sees in it a call for renewed discipline, hierarchy, and sacrifice.
In the Western world today, alienation remains real, but the solutions posed by both Marxism and fascism are suppressed or distorted. Instead of solidarity or spiritual renewal, the liberal order offers technocratic management, further identity fragmentation, and consumer therapy. The revolutionary must therefore understand both traditions—both to synthesize them, and to trace the boundaries of modern disintegration, and to better chart a future in which man is once again whole. But we go further, it is necessary to understand the concept of alienation to understand what comes next under Western Marxism, and what separates it from Orthodox Marxism and its ideological perfection under Juche
As we learned above, in classical Marxism, alienation is a condition to be overcome—an unnatural dislocation of man from his essence, caused by the capitalist mode of production. In fascist thought, a related concept appears as “atomization,” and is treated as a symptom of civilizational decline. But in the 20th century, particularly after the failure of proletarian revolution in the West and the rise of fascism,: Western Marxism— also known as the Frankfurt School— began to reinterpret alienation not as something to be immediately erased, but as a necessity for revolution against European society
Alienation, Particularity, and the Frankfurt School’s Critique of Western Identity
The Frankfurt School, emerging from Weimar Germany in the interwar period, developed a complex and radical critique of Western civilization—its economic systems, cultural norms, and authoritarian undercurrents. As Marxists, they claimed their focus was materialist and dialectical, but as exiles fleeing Nazism, many of them—Jewish intellectuals like Adorno, Horkheimer, Marcuse—also turned their critique toward European identity and civilization itself, especially the traditions, aesthetics, and power structures of European culture.
This philosophical posture, over time, gave rise to a controversial and debated dynamic: the Frankfurt School actively sought to alienate White Europeans, from their own culture. To dissect this we must distinguish intent, method, and consequence, while also addressing how this intersects with the universalizing nature of liberal-capitalism, which likewise seeks to erode particularities—but for different reasons.
Frankfurt School: Critical Theory as Cultural Negation
The Frankfurt School believed that Western civilization itself was responsible for fascism—not as an aberration, but as an inevitable culmination of European culture, religion, masculinity and patriarchal family structures. In Dialectic of Enlightenment, Adorno and Horkheimer argued that the same instrumental rationality that built modern science and industry had hardened into domination—over nature, over workers, and eventually, in Nazi Germany, over entire peoples.
According to the Frankfurt school/Western Marxism, the White Proletariat is conservative and reactionary, defending their petty property, nationalism, and social values, they are excluded from ever being the revolutionary subject.
Instead revolutionary hope must lie elsewhere—in those truly excluded from the system by their otherness such as racial and sexual minorities.
Thus, they did not view European culture as something sacred or good or even an actual culture like that of non-White people. Instead, they approached European high culture—Beethoven, Goethe, Kant—with critique: possibly capable of beauty temporarily, but its true nature is supposedly complicit in domination. Under Western Marxism, a sexually deviant wall street executive is more a part of the proletariat then a working class White dying of black lung in the coal mines.
They especially targeted:
The patriarchal family, seen as a microcosm of fascist authority (Adorno in The Authoritarian Personality).
National identity, as a false unity masking class contradiction and used to mobilize violent conformity.
European spirituality, viewed as repressive and naturally hierarchical
Racial and ethnic exclusiveness, especially in how it excluded minorities.
In this way, the Frankfurt School’s project was to first critique and destabilize traditional European forms of identity—and then to destroy them, by exposing their latent authoritarian or exclusionary tendencies and convincing White Europeans that their own culture was morally flawed. They believed that for true emancipation to occur, Western man had to become critically self-alienated from his inherited culture, so that he would not exist as a block capable of defending that culture, or preventing the redistribution of his property to the racial and sexual minority proletariat.
This leads to the situation where the Frankfurt School weaponized alienation—not against capitalism, but against White, European particularity and peoplehood itself.
Alienation as a Tool Against “Majority Culture”
This reinterpretation of alienation leads to a kind of inversion: for the Frankfurt School and later critical theorists, alienation from a White Man’s inherited identity—was no longer a societal sickness but a moral awakening or “awokening”, because the White race itself, not capitalism, was the enemy to be overcome. Needless to say this is an especially depraved and vile deviation from Marx.
In practical terms, this meant:
Encouraging skepticism or guilt among White Europeans regarding their national histories (colonialism, slavery, fascism).
Recasting traditional European values—order, discipline, rationality, restraint—as instruments of repression.
Promoting non-european voices not merely as equal, but as morally superior vessels of revolutionary potential (Marcuse’s "Great Refusal").
Marcuse even argued for a "liberating intolerance", where White, European male voices should be suppressed to allow space for liberation movements. This dialectic would later influence identity-based movements in the West, and what some critics call “the new moral order”: one that perpetually critiques Western civilization and its racial-ethnic core.
This makes clear that the Frankfurt School was intentionally constructing ideological systems to estrange White Europeans from themselves: their past, their religion, their art, even their aesthetic instincts. Largely because of the tribal grievances of the Frankfurt school itself. Jewish exiles, embittered at Both Nazi Germany and Communist Russia, determined to eliminate the White race itself, and more then willing to compromise with liberal-capitalism to do so.
Liberal Capitalism’s Parallel Erosion of Particularity
Strikingly, liberal capitalism, though ideologically distinct from Marxism, arrives at a profoundly similar idea—but for seemingly different reasons. Where Marxist theorists wanted to deconstruct Western identity in the name of emancipation, liberal capitalism does so in the name of efficiency, fungibility, and market expansion.
In capitalist logic:
Traditions are irrational if they obstruct profit or innovation.
Borders are inconvenient if they prevent labor, capital, or goods from flowing.
Ethnic and cultural distinctiveness is a liability if it prevents universal consumption or creates friction in mass marketing.
Deep roots or identities are dangerous because they encourage loyalty to something higher than the market—whether that be family, nation, God, or race.
Adam Smith’s classical liberal system favored a universal man—a rational actor pursuing self-interest in a global market. In such a system, particularism is inefficiency.
Thus, capitalist globalization works to flatten culture:
All nations become shopping malls.
All workers become replaceable.
All values become optional.
All identities become consumable.
In this sense, capitalism and Western Marxism, supposedly opposed in theory, become symbiotic in effect: both serve to erode White European particularity. One in the name of emancipation; the other in the name of commerce.
Somewhat coincidentally both are upheld by the most privileged and powerful segments of the population.
Alienation Without End: The Modern Condition
What remains is a postmodern subject—alienated from history, place, family, sex, nation, race, and even biology—told that freedom lies in a spectrum of endless fluidity, critique, and self-invention. This is not Marx’s vision of alienation ended by communism. Nor is it the fascist vision of man anchored in blood and myth. It is a perpetual state of disconnection, moral suspicion, and self-negation.
Some would argue this serves both the late-Marxist Left and global capital:
The Left gains endless moral cause, as no structure is ever innocent enough.
Capital gains endless consumers, as no identity is ever complete or secure enough not to need retail therapy.
Racism and the Misdiagnosis of America’s Original Sin
Western Marxists misinterpret American history. They claim racism is America’s original sin, but this is both morally and materially false. The real “original sin”, responsible for the problems of the modern world was capitalist oligarchy, which has used liberalism and individualism as a cudgel to deracinate in turn every corner of the world they touch.
It was the elite who introduced racial foreigners to help them acquire wealth at the expense of the proletariat, and caste systems to protect their power. Racism was and is a morally justifiable reaction to a people facing a dispossession that was engineered from the very top. But modern leftists now target the grassroots—accusing the working class of “privilege” while excusing billionaires who champion diversity. Diversity is a luxury belief of those who enjoy exotic foods and cheap maids but can afford to live in nearly all White suburban fortresses. Their cries of “racism” are designed to make you feel too guilty to fight and are designed to rally their imported DEI shock troops for the task of putting you down, In exchange for the crumbs left over after the elite’s again eat up everything your ancestors fought for.
This is not socialism. This is class war—against the working class.
The Imported Proletariat Myth
Western Marxists also advance the myth that importing a foreign proletariat will renew revolution. This is nonsense. No revolution in history has succeeded with mercenaries or migrants. Revolution grows from the soil of the nation, not from global NGO resettlement.
Marx himself warned about this. In his correspondence with Engels, he explained how Irish immigrants were used to undermine English labor organizing, making the English working class justifiably resentful. The capitalist class weaponized migration to divide labor—and modern leftists now cheer this same strategy under the banner of “anti-racism.”
It is deeply ironic that today’s Western Marxists hold the same immigration position as the Koch Brothers—mass labor importation to suppress wages, atomize communities, and derail class solidarity. This is not revolution. It is race war---against the entirety of the White race and those who find meaning in identity and community.
Juche as Corrective
In contrast, Juche teaches:
Revolution must be national and organic.
Identity is not shameful—it is the seed of sovereignty.
The White working class must not be re-educated into guilt but elevated into leadership.
Juche accepts no imported ideology. It accepts no foreign vanguard. And it accepts no hatred of its own people. This is what American leftism needs: a reorientation toward nation, labor, and dignity.
Toward a Post-Western Left
The new revolution will not emerge from Harvard seminars or TikTok influencers. It will emerge from rail yards, warehouses, farms, factories, small towns, and borderlands. It will come not from people obsessed with pronouns, but from people obsessed with food, rent, and pride.
American Juche will be the antidote to Western Marxism’s poison. It will fuse the dignity of the American worker with the discipline of the vanguard. It will cleanse leftism of its hatred for the nation, the family, and the body. And it will restore the left to its rightful owners: the working class.
In doing so, we will bury Western Marxism forever
Chapter 8: General Grivas and Ethno-Revolutionary Warfare
General George Grivas, also known by his nom de guerre "Digenis," was the architect of the EOKA struggle in Cyprus against British colonial rule during the 1950s. Though rarely discussed in Marxist revolutionary theory circles, his praxis offers a highly instructive model for ethno-religious insurgency, anti-colonial discipline, and rural-urban hybrid warfare. Grivas’s contribution lies in blending nationalist fervor, guerrilla action, and moral asceticism into a coherent, deeply rooted revolutionary framework that can inform the American Juche synthesis.
Grivas rejected both Marxist class universalism and liberal cosmopolitanism. For him, revolution was not about economic equity alone—it was about ethnic and cultural sovereignty. He saw the Greek-Cypriot identity as sacred, and believed that national liberation required not just the end of colonial rule, but a restoration of historical destiny. In this, his views parallel aspects of Juche and Codreanu’s mystic nationalism: sovereignty as a spiritual imperative.
Key Tenets of Grivas’s Revolutionary Theory:
Ethnic-Religious Unity: Grivas cultivated an almost priestly warrior caste around the Greek Orthodox identity. His militants fasted, prayed, and conducted ceremonies before combat. The revolution was not only political, but spiritual.
Moral Rigidity and Self-Sacrifice: Like Guevara’s ideal militant or Kim’s Juche soldier, Grivas demanded complete moral discipline from his fighters. Frivolity, cowardice, and corruption were punishable by expulsion or death. The image of the revolutionary as a clean, heroic, suffering martyr was essential.
Tactical Pragmatism: Though operating under severe material constraints, Grivas adapted EOKA’s tactics to conditions. He employed hit-and-run ambushes, bombings, propaganda campaigns, and even limited urban actions, all while hiding in mountain cells similar to Maoist or Guevarist foci.
Organizational Secrecy: EOKA cells were tightly knit, often built around family and religious bonds, making infiltration difficult. Like Lenin’s model, Grivas’s organization operated hierarchically and clandestinely.
Propaganda of the Deed: Grivas embraced symbolic acts of violence—not to cause terror indiscriminately, but to inspire. Striking British forces at their strongest points made EOKA seem larger than it was. This psychological warfare was essential to morale and mythmaking.
Grivas and American Juche:
The lessons of General Grivas apply to American conditions in several ways:
A future revolutionary movement in the U.S. must combine cultural, ethnic, and moral unity—not as racial supremacy, but as ethnos-centered loyalty within a federal structure.
Spiritual discipline and symbolic sacrifice can build the myth of revolutionary purity, countering the decadence of both liberal and Western Marxist factions.
Tightly controlled cells, rooted in kinship, faith, and regional identity, offer superior resilience against surveillance and infiltration.
Acts of service and courage, not wanton violence, must become the foundation of public myth. The revolution must be seen as honorable, not chaotic.
In Grivas we find a synthesis of military rigor, spiritual nationalism, and insurgent intelligence. He offers a model not for Marxist revolution, but for a revolution of faith, sacrifice, and homeland—perfectly suited to inform the American Juche archetype in deeply rooted regions like Appalachia, the South, the Great Plains, or the Mountain West.
American Juche, like EOKA, must present itself not as an alien ideology, but as a homecoming. Grivas showed that one can fight an empire not with numbers, but with spirit—and win.
chapter 9: Franco Freda and the Strategy of Disintegration
If Juche is the revolution’s perfected form, and Western Marxism its betrayal, then Franco Freda’s revolutionary theory represents the spectral third path: the destruction of the current order without clear vision of what comes after. Freda’s strategy of disintegration is not a program of reform, but a call for collapse.
Revolutionary Nihilism
Freda’s central argument, especially in his infamous essay “The Disintegration of the System,” is that modern liberal democracies are terminally ill. The system, he argues, is built on contradictions that can be sharpened to the point of implosion. He calls for revolutionaries to abandon the outdated dream of mass democratic awakening, and instead to act as catalysts for systemic collapse.
Unlike Marxists who await economic contradictions to ripen, Freda advocated direct psychological and cultural assault on the regime’s legitimacy—through propaganda, disruption, and demoralization.
Strategic Chaos
Where others see revolution as the construction of a new world, Freda sees it as the opening of space for something to be born. He does not define the new order. His goal is to break the hold of liberal hegemony, strip its illusions, and leave it naked to its contradictions.
He saw liberalism as inherently totalitarian in its quest to dissolve all identity—national, sexual, religious, and moral. Therefore, all efforts to resist the system must be efforts to expose its incoherence, including:
Provoking state overreach
Accelerating cultural absurdities
Weaponizing elite contradictions against themselves
Freda’s method is a kind of ideological aikido: use the enemy’s strength to unbalance him.
Ethical Ambiguity
But Freda’s approach is not without danger. His theory risks falling into nihilism. By refusing to define a positive vision, Freda invites opportunism, cynicism, and chaos for its own sake. Without moral anchoring, his tactics can be seized by actors with no interest in justice.
This is where Juche offers necessary correction. The Juche revolution must retain its moral and spiritual core. Collapse is not the end—it is the clearing. Freda’s value lies not in his silence about what comes after, but in his diagnosis of what must be removed.
Lessons for American Juche
The modern United States is increasingly defined by elite incoherence and moral exhaustion. Corporate slogans contradict economic realities. Social justice movements serve billionaires. A society preaching equality in fact delivers only alienation.
Freda’s theory can be used—not as gospel—but as a supplement. American Juche can draw on Freda’s strategic understanding:
The regime should be delegitimized by amplifying its failures.
Elites should be encouraged to devour one another through contradiction.
Cultural decay should be highlighted, not hidden.
The public must be allowed to feel disillusioned without shame.
This is not sabotage. It is acceleration of truth. It is the art of watching a system implode—and having a moral structure ready to replace it. While overall our movement must move from Online to In real life, exposing the system’s contradictions to the masses is best done online. This is already taking place, shitpoasters and frogs expose the decay 24/7. But we have to begin to offer solutions. That is where White Juche comes into play
Chapter 10: Codreanu, Mysticism, and the Legionary Spirit
Our next subject of discussion is Corneliu Zelea Codreanu, he envisioned revolution as sacred duty. In the Iron Guard’s doctrine, revolution is not merely material—it is a spiritual phenomenon. Codreanu brought to revolutionary theory a deep integration of nationalism, Christian mysticism, and ascetic discipline, emphasizing the regeneration of the soul as the path to the rebirth of the nation.
Faith as Foundation
For Codreanu, Marxist materialism lacked soul. Capitalism was evil because it de-spiritualized man; communism in his eyes was a failure because it offered no replacement for that spiritual center and tried to replace soul with the promise of bread. The Iron Guard’s answer was a fusion of Eastern Orthodoxy, national martyrdom, and radical discipline. Revolution was not a path to bread alone—but to dignity, holiness, and eternal struggle.
He constructed a concept of the "New Man" long before the Soviets or Maoists did: not merely an economic subject but a martyr-warrior, bound to his comrades through death-oaths, hunger, suffering, and faith.
The Ethos of the Legionary
The Iron Guard emphasized:
Personal purity and sacrifice
Absolute loyalty to the cause
Death as a sacrament
The nation as a mystical organism
Their paramilitary discipline fused elements of military order, monastic ritual, and peasant folklore. Codreanu was less concerned with policy and more with transforming human nature. The revolution, in his vision, was a rite of passage—a mystical ascension.
Though authoritarian and exclusionary in many respects, the movement’s appeal lay in its aesthetic power: uniforms, symbols, martyrdom. It captured the longing of the dispossessed to belong to something eternal.
Power of Mystical Fascism
Codreanu’s greatest achievement was the syncretization of myth and material justice. The spiritual core of his movement gave his followers something deep and ancient to believe in and commune with, he introduced the revolution to sacred purity.
A revolutionary movement must have myth. Spirituality must elevate. Codreanu teaches us the importance of transcendent purpose, and how to put that purpose towards action.
The Relevance for American Juche
In the modern West, a void has opened where faith once stood. Liberalism replaced church with consumption. The result is nihilism, addiction, deracination, and collapse. American Juche must take Codreanu’s insight seriously: no revolution succeeds without spiritual legitimacy.
This new revolution must build a vanguard not only of strength—but of virtue.
Disciplinary like the Legionary
Uplifting like the early Christians
Committed like the Juche partisans
The state that follows the collapse must not be a hollow machine. It must be a sacred structure. Codreanu reminds us that modern man cannot be moved by reason alone. He must be inspired—by myth, martyrdom, and meaning.
Synthesizing the Sacred with the Strategic
The American Juche movement must recognize that it fights not only for material sovereignty, but for moral rebirth. A people cannot defend what they do not love, and they will not love a state unless it offers more than material bread. This is the greatest fault of the American state, for a time it did generate unbelievable plenty and prosperity,(though obviously it eventually fell to greed and the elites began to dispossess the American people) but for all its prosperity, it hollows out identity. To be an average American in 2025 is to be crushed by alienation and hopelessness, to know friends and family dying of addictions, to see the beauty and grace of our women tarnished and defiled on camera for pennies on behalf of pimps. The revolution, if it is too succeed must be spiritual before it is political.
Like the Legionary oath, a new form of revolutionary spirituality must emerge: one that gives life purpose, binds men as brothers, and elevates even sacrifice to sacred cause. Not a cult of death, but a celebration of rebirth.
Codreanu’s example shows the power of spiritual nationalism. American Juche must refine this legacy, not simply replicate it. The fire must be tempered with justice. The myth must be grounded in truth. And the soul of the movement must never eclipse the dignity of the people it claims to serve.
Chapter 11: Toward an American Juche – Revolutionary Adaptation and National Destiny
The previous chapters have charted the constellation of global revolutionary theories—from Lenin’s dialectic of crisis, to Juche’s metaphysical sovereignty. Now we must turn our attention to what this synthesis means for the American context. Can there be an “American Juche”? A revolutionary nationalism rooted in both American conditions and the perfected theory of people-centered revolution?
We say: yes.
The Need for Adaptation
No revolutionary theory can be transplanted uncritically. Just as Marx was adapted by Lenin, Lenin reinterpreted by Mao, and Mao corrected by Kim Il Sung, so too must Juche be adapted to American conditions. Every revolution grows from its own beloved soil.
American Juche would inherit the Juche trinity of independence in politics, economy, and defense. But it would be shaped by the American historical reality: a settler republic turned imperial technocracy, governed by deracinated elites, with a culture of rugged individualism, Protestant moralism, and racial contradiction.
Revolutionary Preconditions in America
The modern United States shows many of the signs Lenin deemed necessary for revolution:
A degenerate ruling class
Widening inequality
Disillusionment with both parties
Collapse of national myth
Social atomization
Yet it lacks revolutionary leadership, moral clarity, and a true mass line. American Juche, or any revolutionary force must build these.
The National Question
At the core of American Juche lies a reconfiguration of national identity. The United States is not a monoethnic society, but it is not a placeless abstraction either. America’s working class is real, historically and still disproportionately White.
An American Juche would adopt a modified Soviet-style nationalities framework:
Ethnic republics for Blacks, Whites, Hispanics, Native Americans, and Asians secured through a federal system.
Each group would retain its own language, culture, and leadership—united by the Party and the Great Leader as a spiritual father of the nation. In Practice the bulk of the USA would be White, with Native republics and a couple Asian city-states here and there, and the South would be divided between a specific Dixie cultural zone, and the black belt republic. Then a band of land going from Southern California, Southern New Mexico and Arizo, and Southern Texas would be Aztlan, The Hispanic American majoritarian zone, White farmers in this area would be governed and policed by the Dixie republics as autonomous enclaves.
The Great Leader and the Council of the People
Borrowing from Juche’s Suryong principle, American Juche proposes a hereditary leader as a living symbol of national harmony and revolutionary destiny. He is advised by two great chambers:
The Council of the Classes (workers, farmers, intelligentsia, and the military)
The Council of Nationalities (each ethnic and regional group)
Power is not fragmented—it is harmonized through unity, hierarchy, and sovereignty.
Correcting Western Marxism
Western Marxism seeks to destroy the White working class in the name of “justice”, importing a new underclass to serve elite interests. American Juche rejects this. Race is not a sin. Capitalism, not ethnicity, is the original American crime. Racism, as shown through Bacon’s Rebellion and the industrial sabotage of unions, was born from elite manipulation—not irrational inherent hatred.
Only a revolutionary movement that restores dignity to the White working class, while offering justice and sovereignty to all peoples, can succeed. It must be:
Biologically realist without being supremacist
Patriotic without being imperialist
Socialist without being deracinated
Moral Discipline, Not Chaos
Unlike Freda, American Juche must be disciplined. It disavows terror, lone wolf action, or senseless destruction. It has to seek to build while others riot.
The Vanguard’s Role
Following Che, Mao, and Lenin, American Juche must construct:
A disciplined revolutionary elite
A parallel economy and institutions
A mass line to communicate with the people
A cultural myth to bind the nation
This myth is not escapism. It is what Sorel described as a mobilizing dream: the story of the reborn America, led by its working class, healed in spirit, and sovereign in economy.
Our task is to plant revolution in our own soil and to put to bed the idea of an imported proletariat. We must begin with our own
Chapter 12: Historical Dialectic and the Class Betrayal of Migration
Revolutionary theory must not only confront the present, but explain the past. One of the greatest gifts from Marx was socialism as science—a method of analyzing history through dialectics. Juche perfects this by adding man at the center of history, placing sovereignty and culture alongside material forces. To understand America’s present contradictions, we must begin with a dialectical analysis of its class formation—and particularly the historical function of migration as a weapon of elites.
The Cyclical Role of Migration
Across history, oligarchies have brought in foreign populations to undermine and outcompete native workers and smallholders. In Rome, great patrician families employed migrant slaves to expand their latifundia, driving out yeoman farmers and creating a mass of impoverished plebeians. Plutarch’s accounts of Gracchus’ struggle for land reform show how migration supported economic centralization, And Xenophon noted in “On Tyrants” that Oligarchies used armed foreigners to protect their rule, knowing locals might revolt.
Marx saw this as class betrayal. In his letters, he condemned the migration of Irish laborers to England—not out of hatred for the Irish, but because their desperate presence undercut English workers’ organizing. He argued that xenophobia, in this case, was class defense, despite recognizing that the irish had come out of desperation-there was no excuse for setting back the struggle of another people. Western Marxists today twist this into liberal piety, ignoring the capitalist calculus behind migration policies.
The American Example: Bacon’s Rebellion and the Birth of American racial controversy
A critical historical moment for American class relations came in 1676, with Bacon’s Rebellion in Virginia. A coalition of poor Whites and including some Blacks—indentured servants and freedmen alike—rose against the planter aristocracy. Their demand was simple: to be able to secure land for free on the frontiers when their time as indentured servants was ended, security for these newly built homesteads and communities, and local autonomy to rule themselves. But the elite had no intention of giving up their monopoly on wealth.
The elite’s strategy in the Virginia colonies was to restrict settlement on the frontier, preserving the fur trade profits and concentrating power in the tidewater plantations. After the rebellion was suppressed, the elite faced a problem: they were forced to open up settlement on the frontier to homesteading, but how to prevent a united front between poor Whites and Blacks from demanding more, or god forbid becoming independently wealthy and no longer dependent on the power of the tidewater?
The solution was racial chattel slavery. Laws were passed that created a clear caste system: Africans were enslaved for life; Whites were legally elevated, though still poor. Racial division replaced class unity.
Yet beneath this lies another reality: the elite used African slave labor not just to divide, but to economically dominate the smallholding White farmers. Black slaves enabled planters to outproduce yeoman competitors, acquire their land, and create a monocultural aristocracy. In many cases, the Black house slaves had more access to luxury than the free poor Whites they displaced.
Industrial Capitalism and Demographic Warfare
The same pattern repeated in the North. As industrial capitalism rose, labor struggles intensified. In response, elites like Henry Ford imported southern Blacks, European immigrants, and later Hispanic labor to break strikes and keep wages low. When unions formed, employers simply fired the workforce and replaced them with migrant labor.
This led to eruptions of racist reaction—not from nowhere, but from despair. The Black Legion of Detroit, the second Klan in Indiana, and ethnic riots were expressions of class betrayal channeled into tribal rage.
Yet again: the underlying force was capital. Migration served as a tool to fragment identity.
The False Promise of Multiculturalism
Western Marxists today deny this history. They worship migration as salvation from Whiteness and Americanism. They believe their imported proletariat can become revolutionary subjects. But these populations are more dependent on elite patronage, more surveilled, and less rooted.
The Frankfurt School’s strategy of “proletariat replacement” is not revolutionary. It is managerial. It empowers academics and NGOs, not laborers. It ensures no revolution can form from below.
Toward Dialectical Correction
American Juche rejects this moral inversion. Migration used to suppress the native working class, is not liberation. It is elitist class warfare. Our goal is not to purge migrants, but to prevent the capitalist use of human lives as pawns. The enemy is not the immigrant—but the system that weaponizes them.
Only by restoring class unity and sovereign labor structures—rooted in territory, community, and moral order—can we reclaim the dialectical process. Race must be acknowledged as socially real, but not spiritually determinative. Class solidarity must be reborn, not through liberal guilt, but historical truth.
Juche teaches that man makes history. But history also teaches us what men must do next.
And so we return to our thesis:
Capitalism, not racism, is America’s original sin. Migration and enforced diversity are the weapons by which elites disenfranchised and destroyed the people. Revolution, not reconciliation with liberalism, is the path to truth.
Vanguard, Collapse, and the American Future
Revolution does not occur in a vacuum. It is not spontaneous combustion, nor is it an aimless riot. It is a calculated, ethical, historically-determined transition, the ultimate dialectical rupture when the conditions for systemic survival collapse and something greater is prepared to take its place.
In the American context, no revolution can succeed unless it addresses both the material contradictions and the spiritual void at the heart of the current order. It must be rooted in discipline, sovereignty, and mythic renewal. What is required is not mere ideology, but a total structure—a revolutionary ecosystem. American Juche proposes that this consists of three pillars: the Vanguard, the Foci, and the Mass Line.
The Revolutionary Vanguard
Lenin’s conception of the vanguard was not simply an organizational mechanism—it was the decisive organ of historical change. In his view, the working class alone, left to its own devices, could only achieve trade-union consciousness: a desire for better wages or working conditions, not systemic overthrow. The revolutionary party—the vanguard—was the bearer of ideology and historical vision. It had to be tightly organized, ideologically disciplined, and capable of both guiding and protecting the revolutionary process from internal collapse or external compromise.
This vanguard was a minority, but a catalytic minority, rooted in dialectical analysis, organizational hierarchy, and strategic secrecy. Lenin’s What Is to Be Done? outlines this vision with clinical precision: the vanguard does not emerge spontaneously—it is built, trained, and forged through struggle.
In the American context, such a vanguard must adapt to different material and cultural conditions. It must:
Operate without openly declaring itself revolutionary in the early stages, instead embedding itself in civil organizations, working-class communities, and alternative institutions.
Reframe existing patriotism and local pride as vehicles of sovereignty and resistance to imperial decline.
Translate revolutionary ideology into the idiom of working-class America: through cultural heritage, faith, regional solidarity, and economic justice.
Be acutely aware of surveillance and counterintelligence, with its inner core functioning like a Leninist cell, but outwardly operating like a grassroots service or mutual aid structure.
Its mission is to become the only legitimate voice when collapse comes—the only structure that is prepared, organized, and trusted enough to restore order and begin reconstruction. Lenin understood that revolution happens not when everyone rises, but when a small group seizes the moment. The same is true now.
Thus, the American revolutionary vanguard must be invisible but omnipresent. It must be morally pure but tactically flexible. It must be feared by its enemies, but loved by the people. And above all, it must be prepared to act—without hesitation—when history opens the door.
The vanguard is not merely a party or activist cell. It is a self-selected spiritual elite: men and women of steel discipline, moral clarity, and ideological certainty. It is not democratic in structure—it is hierarchical, meritocratic, and absolute in loyalty. From Lenin we draw the centralized core; from Freda and Codreanu we add the mystic warrior ideal; from Kim Il Sung, the principle that sovereignty is the highest expression of man’s creative destiny.
In America, this vanguard must be:
Ethically untouchable: rejecting terror, lone wolf violence, or anything that would discredit the moral legitimacy of the cause.
Rooted in the historical American proletariat—particularly the White working class, not as a supremacist body, but as the most disaffected and maligned sector, cast out by both capital and the cultural left.
Spiritually motivated: grounded in discipline, ritual, and the belief that they are carrying forward the final stage of the American revolutionary spirit, from Jefferson to Huey Newton.
This revolutionary order must train itself like a priesthood—hardened against compromise, but always prepared to absorb and guide the sincere who awaken.
The Foci: Distributed Revolutionary Fire
The concept of revolutionary foci—plural of foco—was developed most famously by Che Guevara and further theorized by Régis Debray. It referred to small, mobile guerrilla groups that could inspire broader uprisings through example and agitation. Che believed that even a small group, operating with ideological clarity and tactical discipline, could become the spark that ignites the masses. Foci were both symbolic and practical: they disrupted enemy control, built popular support, and trained revolutionary leadership in real time.
This model succeeded in Cuba, where the Sierra Maestra campaign transformed a marginal band of rebels into the backbone of a victorious revolution. It was less successful in other contexts (e.g., Bolivia), due to lack of mass connection and state counterinsurgency. The key lesson: foci must be rooted in real social grievances and linked organically to the people they serve.
In modern America, foci must adapt from guerrilla bands to institutional nodes. These include:
Local agricultural cooperatives resisting corporate control.
Homeschool networks teaching history, civics, and ideology from a revolutionary-national framework.
Security organizations rooted in gun culture, veterans' communities, and self-defense networks.
Mutual aid and service projects—food distribution, legal aid, addiction recovery—framed not as charity, but as people’s sovereignty-in-practice.
Each foco must do three things:
Serve material needs where the state fails.
Spread ideological clarity and mythic narrative.
Create hardened cadres who can move into broader leadership roles when crisis comes.
Importantly, American foci should not aim to trigger armed conflict in the short term. Rather, they are seeds of post-collapse replacement: parallel institutions that are visible, trusted, and ready. They can mobilize in disaster, economic depression, civil unrest, or governmental paralysis—moments when the system’s legitimacy unravels.
By decentralizing revolutionary presence—schools, churches, unions, farms, tech hubs—American Juche ensures that no single decapitation strike can end the movement. Foci give the revolution depth, resilience, and permanence. As in Cuba, it is not the size of the foco that matters, but its connection to a greater strategy.
In this way, foci become both shield and sword: protecting the people, sharpening the movement, and drawing forth the leaders who will one day govern a reborn America.
From Che and Marighella, we understand that revolution can and must develop from nodes—foci—spread throughout society. These are not just military bands, but social-moral institutions: think tanks, unions, schools, media networks, local militias, cooperative farms, and spiritual centers.
Each foco must function semi-autonomously but in harmony with the vanguard’s central ideology. The point is to create a decentralized but coordinated revolutionary grid: a net of social infrastructure ready to seize, sustain, and legitimize power the moment collapse presents an opening.
Foci can:
Serve communities and win trust while state institutions fail. The PSF raising money to hand out water in East Palestine Ohio after the train derailment, and the NJP confronting local, state and federal leadership at town meetings serve as prime examples of this.
Practice parallel sovereignty (a concept from Freda and Codreanu), providing real goods, justice, and protection.
Radicalize through exposure to injustice, guiding communal pain into action.
The focus is not chaos—it is controlled ignition.
.
The Mass Line: Awakening the People
The Mass Line is one of Mao Zedong’s most profound contributions to revolutionary strategy. It is not simply a tool for mobilization—it is a dialectical process for harmonizing leadership and the people. In Mao’s own words, the revolutionary must "gather the ideas of the masses, concentrate them, and return them to the masses in the form of policy." The goal is not to impose ideology from above, but to synthesize it from lived conditions, elevate it through revolutionary analysis, and re-inject it as organizing strategy.
Mao’s use of the Mass Line during the Chinese Revolution, particularly in the Long March and later land reform campaigns, allowed a small cadre to maintain unity with peasants despite immense material challenges. It transformed passive populations into active revolutionaries, turning isolated grievances into collective consciousness and political power.
For American Juche, the Mass Line must become the ethical heart of the movement. It is the means by which the vanguard earns legitimacy—not through imposition, but through immersion. Applied to modern American conditions, the Mass Line requires:
Listening tours, direct engagement with factory workers, rural farmers, service employees, veterans, and disaffected youth.
Transforming discontent—about opioids, job loss, urban decay, family breakdown, racial tension—into strategic framing that names the enemy: the system of elite zio-globalist-capitalist misrule.
Producing cultural, spiritual, and civic materials that speak in the idiom of working Americans—not academic jargon or moralistic scolding, but symbols rooted in folk memory, religion, patriotism, and labor.
The Mass Line also includes digital organization: not top-down command but feedback-driven, meme-encoded, culturally literate narrative construction. It’s not enough to issue slogans—the people must see their own experience reflected in revolutionary myth.
Critically, the Mass Line also inoculates the revolution against leftist elitism. It prevents the rise of disconnected ideologues by insisting that the people themselves shape the message. This is why American Juche must reject Western Marxism’s contempt for the masses, especially the White working class. No revolution can succeed that views the majority of its population as the enemy.
Through the Mass Line, American Juche becomes not an imported ideology, but a native uprising. The people do not follow—they become the revolution. And through that, they become sovereign again.
Mao’s greatest contribution to revolutionary theory may be the concept of the mass line—the dialectical loop between the leadership and the people. The vanguard must learn from the masses, reframe their pain ideologically, then return the refined guidance back to them in mobilizable form.
In the American case, this means confronting brutal truths:
The White working class is atomized, addicted, and cynical—but still harbors the strongest memory of national, racial and labor dignity.
The Black and Latino communities are more more economically dependent on the elites, and typically more aligned with the elites, but also more community-driven and militant. In the PSF at one point we had a growing relationship with the Black Hammer movement. We should try to reach out towards something like that again.
The educated class, while largely co-opted, contains a substratum of disillusioned professionals who can become loyal technicians of the revolution.
The mass line must:
Speak plainly: no academic jargon, no utopian fantasy.
Address real grievances: housing, crime, dignity, work, racial exhaustion, and cultural disintegration.
Offer vision and belonging: not merely material justice, but spiritual rebirth.
This is where Juche, with its person-centered development, surpasses all others. It knows that a revolution without spirit becomes a bureaucracy, and that a revolution without bread becomes a riot. Only with both—bread and belief—can permanence be achieved.
The Strategy of Ethical Disintegration
Franco Freda’s theory of systemic disintegration as part of his overall revolutionary strategy of nazi-maoism, remains one of the most controversial and misunderstood components of postwar revolutionary thought. Rather than proposing a positive program of state-building or Marxist economic theory, Freda focused on the intentional exacerbation of contradictions within a decadent liberal order—encouraging collapse, fracture, and loss of legitimacy. His concept of disintegration was not nihilistic in essence, but preparatory: clearing the ground for something new by ensuring the current regime exhausted itself morally, economically, and spiritually.
Freda believed that when a society loses its belief in itself—when its institutions, cultural norms, and moral codes are exposed as hollow—it becomes vulnerable to radical transformation. Thus, disintegration was both a diagnosis and a strategy: a way of loosening the cultural and psychological foundations of liberal democracy so that an alternative—rooted in hierarchy, tradition, and national rebirth—could emerge.
In the American context, the application of Freda's theory must be cautious, ethical, and oriented toward Juche-style national sovereignty. Disintegration should not be sought for its own sake, nor for chaos, but rather pursued tactically as part of a broader plan. The key points of application are:
Cultural Saturation: Amplify the grotesque contradictions of the elite order—celebrity decadence, racial double standards, corporate hypocrisy, academic nihilism—until the system collapses under the weight of its own absurdity.
Instrumentalizing Rival Movements: Use the energy of rival revolutionary movements (e.g., Antifa, BLM) to catalyze state repression and exhaustion. Their overreach and inevitable failure erodes belief in their moral legitimacy while exhausting state resources. In practice this means turning up the tension online and irl. irritating Antifa and BLM and Aztlan movements and insane democrat AWFL’s.
Withdrawing Consent: Encourage broad-scale civil disobedience, refusal to participate in corrupt elections, local nullification of federal mandates, and cultural secession—not through violence, but by moral disengagement.
Mythic Alternative: Offer a counter-myth, a living spiritual narrative rooted in American soil—American Juche—so that when collapse comes, the people turn not to despair, but to prepared hands and clear vision.
Controlled Patience: Freda failed to offer what Juche does: a clear system to replace the old. American Juche must not only welcome collapse but prepare for what comes after: a structured, sovereign, and moral state rooted in ethnonational harmony, revolutionary discipline, and service to the people.
Ethical disintegration means exposing the injustice and failure of the system through truth and clarity, not through chaos or terror. It means allowing the regime to die by its own contradictions while ensuring a disciplined alternative stands ready..
From Freda we borrow—not nihilism—but timing. The revolutionary must never strike too early, or without legitimacy. Therefore, American Juche must pursue the strategy of ethical disintegration:
Let the state exhaust its credibility through its own misrule.
Encourage non-aligned groups (BLM, Antifa, etc.) to accelerate the contradictions.
Never waste strength in pointless violence. Let others exhaust themselves.
Build everything underground: media, food supply, arms, philosophy, community.
Wait for the collapse—or crisis—and be the only viable inheritor.
Revolution is not just opposition. It is succession. We are not destroying—we are replacing.
National Harmony and Post-Revolution Order
Revolution is not an end—it is a beginning. The purpose of American Juche is not to unleash chaos for its own sake, but to replace a collapsing, illegitimate regime with a harmonious, sovereign, and enduring national order. This new system must be built around stability, justice, and identity—not the formless tyranny of market forces or the transient tyranny of mob rule.
National Harmony, as conceived by American Juche, is the synthesis of ethnic dignity, class justice, and cultural sovereignty. Inspired by the Soviet system of nationalities but made uniquely American, this harmony emerges not by erasing difference but by structuring it into mutual respect and cooperative federalism.
Under American Juche, the post-revolutionary order will be composed of:
Ethnic Republics and Cultural Autonomy: Just as the USSR recognized its component nations, the United States will be restructured to include White, Black, Latino, Asian-American, and Native tribal regions. These areas will have cultural autonomy, linguistic freedom, and local self-government while maintaining allegiance to the sovereign state.
A Bicameral Sovereign Council: One chamber represents the classes (workers, intelligentsia, farmers, and vanguard), and the other represents the nationalities. This ensures both economic and cultural justice, with governance responsive to both profession and heritage.
The Leadership Principle, Reimagined: Borrowing from the Suryong principle, leadership in American Juche will be both hereditary and meritocratic. The leader is not simply a ruler, but the embodiment of national unity and revolutionary destiny. Yet this leader is advised and limited by strong councils, ensuring accountability without surrendering sovereignty.
The Revolutionary Guard: A permanent military and ideological vanguard drawn from all classes and ethnicities, trained in discipline, moral doctrine, and national service. They will be guardians of the revolution, not predators of the people.
Cultural Rebirth and Mythic Identity: The arts, education, and religion will be restructured to serve the people—not capital or nihilism. American heroes will be recast as revolutionary ancestors.
This order does not seek sameness—it seeks balance. The false unity of liberal universalism will be replaced by a true harmony of difference. Racism and hierarchy will be abolished not by denying identity, but by elevating each identity into a position of mutual dignity, under a common revolutionary destiny.
Post-revolution America will not be a dystopia of forced sameness or technocratic despotism. It will be a homeland: sacred, sovereign, and just. Each community, each people, will have its place. And at the center will be the eternal revolution—not endless violence, but endless rebirth, guided by the vanguard and grounded in the people.
Finally, American Juche must be able to govern. This means:
A new Constitution based on national brotherhood: White, Black, Hispanic, Asian, Native—all self-governing but united in shared sovereignty.
An organic state with a Supreme Leader advised by councils of professions and nationalities.
Reindustrialization with syndicalist roots: workers own their industries in trust.
A moral culture, not enforced by terror, but by myth, ritual, and shared story.
In this way, American Juche is not a regression to feudalism or a mimicry of Stalinism—it is the perfection of national communitarian sovereignty.
American Modifications: The Rainbow Coalition and Revolutionary Hierarchies
No revolutionary theory can be truly American unless it engages with the lived complexity of American identity. While American Juche rejects the false promises of liberal universalism, it also refuses reactionary reductionism. Instead, it builds upon successful American experiments in solidarity, such as the Rainbow Coalition initiated by Huey Newton and Fred Hampton.
The Rainbow Coalition was a powerful, if short-lived, alliance of revolutionary Black, White, Latino, and Native groups—rooted in shared struggle against capitalist oppression. It showed that racial identity need not divide the working class; it can, when structured properly, serve as the foundation of mutual respect and collective power. American Juche honors this tradition, but modifies it with stricter clarity.
Under the post-revolutionary order envisioned here:
Racial and cultural identity is affirmed—not erased. This includes separate ethnic republics, each with their own traditions, institutions, and heroes.
Revolutionary hierarchy is real—different groups have different historical roles, degrees of integration, and strategic weight. The White working class, as the largest and most historically sovereign group, is the primary engine of revolutionary legitimacy. But this does not diminish the contributions or autonomy of others.
Privilege is redefined—not as a moral debt to be repaid through guilt, but as responsibility. The former dominant group (Whites) must lead by example: showing discipline, restraint, and service, not supremacy. In doing so, they fulfill their historical duty and the revolution offers salvation for us as a people.
This modified American Juche, informed by the tactics of the Rainbow Coalition is not a multicultural consumer fantasy—it is a structured federation of peoples, each proud, each sovereign, and each bound by shared destiny. The revolutionary state does not mandate sameness—it mandates loyalty. To each his homeland, his heroes, his ancestors—but to all, one revolution.
In this framework, identity becomes a source of discipline and strength, not division. The revolutionary movement must be ruthless against liberal guilt politics and neoliberal multiculturalism—but also refuse racial nihilism. Harmony emerges not from flattening difference, but from elevating it into revolutionary order.
This is the final refinement: an American synthesis of Huey Newton’s revolutionary pluralism, Evola’s spiritual caste, and Juche’s total sovereignty.
The people, once divided by petty nonsense, are to now be united by destiny.
Final Words
History does not ask for permission. It punishes those who fail to prepare.
For over two centuries, the American republic functioned as both a beacon of hope to some and a brutal empire to others—rising on the strength of its workers, its frontiersmen, and its mythos of freedom. But today, that myth lies in ruin. The dollar rules, the state is incompetent and floating adrift, and the people—White, Black, and all others—are fractured, addicted, dispossessed, or bribed into submission.
This collapse is not coming. It is here.
The old institutions are no longer trusted. The law is no longer sacred. The elites have seceded in spirit from the nation, and the people are beginning to sense it. There is no common story. No shared sacrifice. No moral center.
And so the question is no longer if a revolution is necessary—but whether one will be led with purpose, or arise out of no where.
American Juche will provide us with a playbook that demands preparation, not reaction. . It proposes that we do not merely rage against the system or flee from modernity—but that we replace the system, ethically and enduringly, with something rooted in the people and bound by sacred duty.
This revolution cannot be one of hatred. Not that you shouldn’t hate our enemies, but that hatred must not blind us from working towards what works.
We disavow terrorism, lone wolf actions, and all attacks on innocents. Our revolution is not against the American people, but for them. It is not impatient violence, but patient reclamation. Not nihilism, but renewal.
It is the belief that no man should be made a stranger in the land of his birth. That the worker is more valuable than the banker. That the family, the farm, the trade, and the temple are sacred. That race is not a curse, but a legacy to be ordered with dignity. That history matters. That beauty matters. That truth matters.
And above all, that the revolution must deserve to win.
When the state falters, when the debt overwhelms, when food and fuel falter and the myths no longer hold, the people will look for guidance. They will look for leadership. They will look for someone who not only knew this was coming—but was ready.
Will they find schemers? Will they find chaos? Will they find false prophets and saviors without plan?
Or will they find us?
Let us be the ones who were disciplined when others were decadent.
Let us be the ones who remembered the people when others mocked them.
Let us be the ones who planned not for apocalypse—but for what comes after.
When collapse comes, let us offer not despair, but direction.
When the system breaks, we must be standing there prepared to smoothly step in and offer a plan