It is rather simple: Will our nations survive or soon dissolve into pulp?

London roared with defiance last weekend, as hundreds of thousands rallied to reclaim England’s spirit. St. George’s Crosses and Union Jacks waved a cry against mass immigration and the Islamic invasion that threatens to redraw Europe’s ancient map. People are waking up. But is it too late for Europe’s nations, rich or humble, to preserve their cultural and genetic heritage? Could we be doomed to dissolve into multicultural pulp, nations in name only?

A nation is not just geography. It is blood, faith, culture and language – Homer’s verse, Dante’s (or even Pound’s) cantos, Bach’s fugues. Yet the EU, that bureaucratic hydra, promotes a borderless dream that ultimately erases this all. Mass immigration from Africa, the Middle East and South Asia, disguised as compassion, floods our continent with strangers, turns towns, neighbourhoods, villages and islands into foreign enclaves and outposts of an alien creed, severing our cultural and social seams.

History spells out warnings. Rome fell when its spirit diluted. Byzantium crumbled when its gates weakened. Today, the Netherlands watches its liberal ethos clash with the sharia’s shadow. Sweden, once a Viking stronghold, has become unrecognisable. The Greco-Roman heritage of Southern Europe, from theatres and aqueducts to Christian art, risks ending up a mere museum. The EU’s open borders policy, its sanctimonious “rights” dogma, accelerates this erosion.

Yet from the existential fear of national erasure springs resistance. Like them or not, modern partisans are here. In France, Le Pen’s heirs stand one vote from power. Germany’s AfD shakes Berlin’s status quo. In the Netherlands and Italy national conservatives have surged, while they are on the rise almost everywhere. Hungary, a modern Thermopylae, proves another model is viable: Borders sealed, culture guarded, sovereignty sacred. Viktor Orbán’s defiance shows nations can endure, but only with iron resolve.

The clock ticks mercilessly. Native birth rates plummet as Europeans, taxed into despair, hesitate to raise children in hostile, unsafe environments. Meanwhile, newcomers multiply, their enclaves often becoming fortresses within our cities. Some nations, especially in formerly Eastern Europe, may manage to hold, keeping their identities more or less intact. Others, like Sweden or Belgium, risk dissolving into diversity chaos, their flags mere relics, their names hollow.

This divide can fracture the EU itself. A union of nations in name only, split between those who preserve their soul and those who surrender it, faces the spectre of disintegration. Brussels, blind to its own hubris, simply ignores this peril. In the end, the Eurocrats’ dream of unity may as well produce a fractured continent, where cultural chasms will have replaced shared heritage.

The US seems to have realised what we have yet to grasp. Across the Atlantic, Trump’s second term signals a hunger for identity survival. But America, a settler mosaic, is no European nation-state. Here the stakes are even higher, as nations are living legacies, bound by blood and history. Can Ireland remain Ireland if its Gaelic heart fades? Can Greece endure if its church walls echo foreign prayers? To lose this is to lose everything.

Time is no ally. Closing borders, prioritising natives’ rights, strengthening families at all costs, reaffirming Christian roots – these are not mere policies but acts of survival. It can be done. Yet the margin of failure is close to zero. Now, more than ever, our choices will shape the world our children inherit: Either a Europe of nations or a post-modern Eliotic wasteland of lost identities.

We bear a burden of tragic proportions and truly historical magnitude. Some nations may defy the abyss, fighting to keep their flags high. Others will almost certainly fade – their essence traded for a globalist illusion. As this happens, the EU’s cracks are sure to widen, and disintegration looms. There is no room for complacency. Hesitation is a luxury we cannot afford. We must choose now. Will we fight for who we are, like our ancestors before us, or condemn our children to a rootless, dystopian future?