Abolish the Community Relations Service

It's gaslighting America about anti-white violence

When I heard Austin Metcalf’s father talking about his son’s brutal murder and saying, quite calmly, that he had already forgiven his son’s killer—a black teenager—and didn’t want anybody to make the killing about race, a question entered my head. A familiar question. I’d asked it before, in similar circumstances, in the aftermath of other dreary murders of white people usually by black people. Did this man really mean what he was saying—or had he been told to say it?

But who would tell the father of a recently-murdered teenager to disavow a racial motive for his son’s killing, when the possibility was so blindingly obvious? Who would even have the power to do that?

Why?

The Community Relations Service (CRS), an organ of the Department of Justice—that’s who.

The how isn’t so clear—the Service is very shadowy, and we don’t have access to its interventions with grieving families of victims—but we know it does put pressure on people like Jeff Metcalf when their loved ones are killed. The why, at least, makes perfect sense. You only need eyes to see the huge edifice of anti-white prejudice that has been erected in recent years, across every area of public life in America, from the media and the workplace to the schools and universities and even the federal government. Anti-white racism has become a governing ideology and practice.

Don’t misunderstand me: I’m not saying the Community Relations Service definitely has spoken to Jeff Metcalf. We don’t know. It’s entirely possible that Jeff Metcalf is any number of things that could make a man renounce the natural emotions of a father whose son has just been murdered: He could be a Christian who is deeply committed to the principle of forgiveness, who rejects the law of an eye for an eye; or he could be a terminal libtard whose brain has been so fried by the programming that his first instinct is to curry favour with other libtards—to look “progressive” and “good” on TV—rather than reach for his sword and bow like the rest of us.

Either one is possible, or both.

But that doesn’t change the fact the Community Relations Service actually exists and that it exists, in one of its major functions, to cover up racial violence against white people.

According to its own website, the CRS “serves as ‘America’s peacemaker’’ for communities facing conflict based on actual or perceived race, color, national origin, gender, gender identity, sexual orientation, religion, or disability.”

When such a conflict arises, the CRS jumps into action, “providing facilitated dialogue, mediation, training, and consultation” to help communities “come together, develop solutions to the conflict, and enhance their capacity to independently prevent and resolve future conflict.” The goal of the CRS throughout, the website claims, is to be “the neutral party.”

This is heavy bureaucratese, the kind of euphemistic language that’s used to mask activities that could be described in very simple terms. In this case, making sure the family and friends of murdered white people don’t kick up a fuss and draw attention to the problem of white people being murdered because of the colour of their skin.

Verified instances of the Community Relations Service at work are hard to come by, but until not that long ago—around the time I started publishing articles about it, actually—the Service’s website listed the killing of Donald Giusti as a case study of what it does when serving as “America’s peacemaker.”

Donald Giusti was smashed over the head with a rock and stomped to death by a mob of Somalis in a park in Lewiston, Maine, six years ago. Tensions between immigrants and locals, mainly in the park, had been building for weeks before the murder. It was the local police chief who decided to call in the CRS, “to help ease racial tensions and strengthen community relations,” as the website put it.

An essential part of the “peacemaking” process was getting members of the victim’s family to make public statements calling for calm. Giusti’s uncle and sister were both wheeled out for the press. Both read from the same script.

“We want to see things come to an end, we want people to be able to come to the park and be happy. Walk through the park and not be afraid,” said the uncle. The sister expressed her hope that her brother’s death would not be for nothing and that it would “give this community a voice to say something needs to give.”

But the CRS wasn’t finished there. It also intervened on the side of the man held responsible for landing the killing blow on Donald Giusti. Instead of being charged with murder, he was allowed to plead “no contest” to a reduced charge of criminal negligence. He was sentenced to just nine months in prison.

Nine months.

Like I said, verified instances of the CRS at work are hard to come by, and now the Donald Giusti “case study” has disappeared from the website, but these facts are more than enough to confirm what the Service is and what it does.