Julius Evola
JULIUS EVOLA: A RADICAL TRADITIONALIST By Troy Southgate
Julius Evola On Tradition And The Right (La Vera
Destra) Men Among the Ruins:
Post-War Reflections of a Radical Traditionalist.
Reviewed by E. Christian Kopff
The
Legacy of a European Traditionalist
Jay Kinney examines the Introduction to Magic, a powerful and disturbing book by Julius Evola, one of the foremost authorities on the world's esoteric traditions...
Magic (or Magick, as it is sometimes spelled, in order to distinguish it from stage magic) is a word fraught with dubious connotations. It summons up images of robed figures, surrounded by clouds of incense, standing within magical circles, and conjuring demons to do their bidding.
Even in the magical system that has achieved widest renown, that of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, magic is associated with complex Qabbalistic rituals, Egyptian god forms, and arcane tools and talismans. Such things are sure to send the average good citizen scurrying in the opposite direction, as quickly as possible. Even for those who are inclined toward the esoteric and spiritual, magic remains the preserve of a few self-chosen magi who have a strong attraction to the arcane.
Still, there are no lack of books presenting magical systems. Dion Fortune, W.E. Butler, Aleister Crowley, Israel Regardie, William Grey, Franz Bardon, David Griffin, and others have authored numerous tomes to whose teachings one could easily devote a lifetime. Why, then, should we pay any attention to yet another book called Introduction to Magic? The answer is that this new work in hand is unlike any other book on magic previously published, as difficult as that may be to believe.
Julius Evola, the principal contributor to Introduction to Magic, is a figure of some controversy within esoteric circles. Born in 1898, the vital years of his twenties and thirties coincided with Fascism’s reign in Italy, and Evola’s stance toward Fascism – although critical and adversarial at times – was sufficiently positive to make him persona non grata in liberal European circles. However, as tempting as it may be to dismiss past historical figures according to present value judgments, Evola deserves to be judged on his own terms, in his own time. With that in mind, let us take a closer look at the magical system put forth in Introduction to Magic.
Introduction to Magic is the first of three volumes collecting articles from the Italian esoteric journal UR, published between 1927 and 1929. Evola was the journal’s foremost author, but he was joined by prominent figures in the Italian esoteric scene, such as Arturo Reghini, Giulio Parese and Ercole Quadrelli. All of UR’s writers published under pseudonyms, for the stated reason that “their individual selves count for nothing, because everything valid they can offer now is not of their own creation or devising, but instead reflects a collective and objective teaching.”1 This harks back to such seminal works as the Rosicrucian Manifestoes, or the more recent Meditations on the Tarot, whose authors chose anonymity so as not to distract from the message of their texts.
The message of the UR Group was as follows: there is a capacity inherent in Man to raise consciousness above the call of the body and the distractions of the mind; a capacity that can lead to an immortal awareness. The means to this awareness is through a rigorous discipline wherein the transitory ego is shed, and the individual consciousness is wedded to the Eternal. In so doing, one passes beyond the conventional notions of Good and Evil, to a place where, in Gustav Meyrink’s words, only “truth” and “falsehood” exist. To know this is not a matter of intellectual knowledge, but of spiritual experience, i.e. of gnosis.
Introduction to Magic doesn’t merely describe this system, but offers meditative techniques that can lead to the concrete acquisition of the consciousness it describes. In so doing, accounts are offered of what one will encounter – accounts that have the strong ring of truth. In other words, the UR Group was sharing knowledge based on their own experience, not just generalisations or suppositions. And here we approach the core of the UR Group’s unique approach, which raises important questions.
Most other magical systems presuppose an “other”, be it God or gods and goddesses, to which the magus pays homage or, at least, subordinates his operations. The tendency of the ego to usurp the expanding consciousness, is conventionally kept in check by the reminder of the ego’s diminutive stature in relation to the Divine.
The UR approach de-emphasises such “others,” focusing instead on the transcendence of the ego by a greater impersonal Self which may itself become Divine. This admittedly dangerous operation requires a resoluteness of will that cannot be abandoned. As “Abraxas” (Quadrelli) notes:
Once you have begun, you must go all the way, since an interruption leads to a dreadful reaction, with the opposite result. You can easily understand why: at every step you take, an increasingly higher quantity of swirling energy is arrested and pushed upstream; having been excited and provoked, it is filled with tension. As soon as you give up, it will come crashing down upon you and sweep you away.2
Obviously, this is an approach that will appeal to very few. And the UR Group’s philosophy assumed as much. Quadrelli described the difference between the vast majority of mankind and the initiated few who followed such a path:
On this side are ignorant people, lacking Knowledge, pale, passive, intoxicated, whose lives are still outside and on this side of the Waters. On the other shore you will find virile men, heroic souls, awakened to disgust, to revolt, to the Great Awakening; having left one shore behind, they dare face the current and the undertow, being led by their ever more firm, unshakable will. Once there, they are known as ‘Survivors of the Water,’ ‘Walkers on the Waters,’ the ‘Holy Race of the Free,’ ‘The Conquerors,’ ‘The Lords of Life and Salvation,’ ‘The Radiant Ones.’ They are the ‘Dragon slayers,’ the ‘Dominators of the Bull,’ ‘Consecrated to the Sun,’ those who have been transformed through Ammon’s power and Wisdom.3
In defining such a gap between the many and the few, the UR Group implied a spiritual hierarchy that Evola was to elsewhere define explicitly. Taking his lead from Hinduism, Evola affirmed the value of a traditional caste system, (typically composed of the castes of Priest-ruler, aristocratic warrior, merchant, and worker). Society should be ruled by those of the highest spiritual attainment, with all others finding their proper places in the social hierarchy. Such sentiments stand in stark contrast to the modern conception of democracy, which assumes the right of every individual to an equal voice in the direction of society.
Evola was still working out these ideas at the time of the UR Group project, and his increasingly uncompromising defense of “Tradition” was one factor in the group’s fragmentation after only three or four years of collaboration.
Western Magic & Hermeticism
The best known exponent of ritual magic, Aleister Crowley, defined magic as “the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will.”4 Dion Fortune revised this definition to that of “causing changes in consciousness at will.”5 The object of all magic, according to Crowley, is “the uniting of the Microcosm with the Macrocosm.” Stated another way, “the Great Work is the raising of the whole man in perfect balance to the power of Infinity.”6 While the UR Group would not disagree with this objective, their means to achieving it stood apart from that of Crowley, Fortune, and most other magicians.
Most Western Magic is based on the coupling of Hermeticism and the Qaballa. Hermeticism, with its doctrines of the four elements (earth, wind, water, and fire), and of correspondences between “above” and “below” (i.e. the Macrocosm and the Microcosm), became systematised in the art of Alchemy. Qaballa (or Kabbalah) was the mystical tradition within Judaism, which contributed the concepts of four Worlds, a series of Divine emanations arranged in the glyph of the Tree of Life, and a hierarchy of Divine Names, Angelic intelligences, and so on, with which the Qaballist might interact.
The magic of the UR Group, however, is wholly Hermetic. There would seem to be two reasons for this. First, the leading UR members, particularly Evola and Reghini, were proponents of a return to Roman and Greek tradition. Evola considered “Hermetico-alchemical knowledge” to be “the most direct and legitimate link to the unique, primordial Tradition.”7 The preoccupations and values of Judaism and Christianity run perpendicular to pagan values of heroism, strength, and honour.
Second, in its stated goal of self-Deification, the UR teachings had little use for the concept of Deity, beyond that of a potential within certain favoured individuals. The UR work gives high value to Transcendence, but it is the transcendence of the initiate over the pull of earthly bonds, of the supra-human over the merely human. Thus the UR teachings have far more in common with Nietzsche or with Buddhism, than with the Judaeo-Christian religions with their subordination before an external God.
Nevertheless, the UR Group didn’t narrow its cosmology to the sort of psychological reductionism that sees God or the gods as symbolic figures thrown up by the Collective Unconscious or as mere person-ifications of human capacities. Various essays in Introduction to Magic refer to Beings, entities, and forces that the Magus may encounter along the path. But these are conceptualised as manifestations of two polarising tendencies within the Cosmos: non-human forces that lead either to a degenerative Chaos or to a higher Order. The initiate, according to the UR Group, must distinguish between the two and align himself only with energies and intelligences leading toward the higher Self.
While Evola and the UR Group placed themselves on the side of Order and high spiritual aspirations, their goal of human Deification led them to see conventional mystical notions, such as “merging with the One” or submission of the Ego to God, as manifestations of a downward pull leading the individual away from his ascent to the Divine. In one essay, Evola appropriates René Guénon’s concept of the “counter-initiation” in characterising Theosophy, Spiritualism, and other “sentimental” movements as “Satanic” impulses.
This is highly ironic in that the UR perspective has more than a passing resemblance to the so-called Satanism of the contemporary Temple of Set. According to Stephen E. Flowers, “the ultimate aim of Setian philosophy is an active, aware and potent state of relative immortality for the isolate, individual psyche. This is achieved through a system of magic…”8 This is not the time or place to enter into a discussion of whether the Setian definition of the “individual psyche” has more in common with the accepted notion of the ego or with the UR Group’s divinised Self. Suffice it to say that both systems aim at the willed immortality of the initiate, independent of the body, and in contradistinction to the “right-hand path” of mainstream religion or mysticism.
The perspective put forth in Introduction to Magic, and by Evola in his other writings, raises the question of whether gnosis, (or awakening or liberation, as it is usually referred to in the book) only occurs within the familiar framework of morality. Most mystical and esoteric paths counsel a fidelity to the moral values of the religions of which they are expressions. The saints or mystics who are the exemplars of such paths are generally praised for their piety, compassion, and self-sacrifice; the implication being that spiritual awareness goes hand in hand with “goodness.” The Buddhist figure of the Bodhisatva, who vows to continue to incarnate until all beings have been liberated, as well as the figure of Jesus Christ, who Christian dogma tells us “died for our sins,” are the accepted models for earnest spiritual seekers.
Evola and the UR Group fly in the face of such norms. Their magical system makes almost no mention of how a would-be magus should comport himself towards others. There are no exhortations to live for the sake of others or to help those who are less advantaged. There are only repeated statements of the need for courage, steadfastness, clear vision, and singleness of purpose on the magical path. Time and again, the reader is reminded of the relativity of “Good and Evil” from the vantage point of the accomplished initiate. At best, the UR system might be characterised as morally neutral, at least by conventional standards.
Yet it is clear from the authority of the book’s instructions, and the first-person accounts that are included, that the members of the UR Group achieved heights of consciousness that bear the mark of gnosis. Here was a group of Italian esotericists whose loyalties lay with ancient Rome, who were associated with the extreme Right, and who considered the majority of the human race to be asleep and worthy only of being led by an enlightened few. Could it be that they developed a potent system for the advancement of spiritual awareness that works? This is the challenge that Introduction to Magic raises for its readers and which each reader will have to answer for himself.
Editor's Note: Introduction to Magic: Rituals and Practical Techniques for the Magus by Julius Evola and the UR Group (Published by Inner Traditions) is available in Australia from New Dawn magazine or by clicking here.
Footnotes:
1. Preface to Introduction to Magic, p. xxv.
2. Abraxas (Quadrelli) in Introduction to Magic, p. 20.
3. Abraxas (Quadrelli) in Introduction to Magic, p. 19.
4. Aleister Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, p. xii.
5. Dion Fortune, quoted by W.E. Butler in Magic, Its Ritual, Power and Purpose, p. 12.
6. Aleister Crowley, Magick in Theory and Practice, p. 4.
7. Julius Evola, The Hermetic Tradition, p. xvii.
8. Stephen E. Flowers, Lords of the Left-Hand Path, p. 241.
© Jay Kinney, 2001. Jay Kinney is the co-author, with Richard Smoley, of Hidden Wisdom: A Guide to the Western Inner Traditions (Penguin/Arkana, 1999). He is editor of The Inner West (forthcoming from J.P. Tarcher, 2002). More of his writings can be found at http://www.gnosismagazine.com.
The
above article appeared in
New Dawn No. 68 (September-October
2001)
© Copyright New Dawn Magazine, http://www.newdawnmagazine.com . Permission to re-send, post and place on web sites for non-commercial purposes, and if shown only in its entirety with no changes or additions. This notice must accompany all re-posting.
JULIUS
EVOLA:
A RADICAL TRADITIONALIST
Troy Southgate examines late Italian philosopher Julius Evola’s Men Among the
Ruins: Post-War Reflections of a Radical Traditionalist. PRAVDA.Ru will present
this summary as a series.
1.
REVOLUTION-COUNTER-REVOLUTION - TRADITION
In the opening chapter of his work, Evola can be forgiven for appearing to sound
like a typical Catholic fundamentalist. According to the Baron, socio-political
subversion (eversio) was introduced into Europe for the first time with the 1789
and 1848 revolutions. Catholic writers like Chesterton, Belloc and a whole array
of popes and cardinals would agree with him. Indeed, Evola even suggests that
the term ‘reactionary’ should be adopted by those who realise the true extent to
which the forces of liberalism, Marxism and democracy are advancing their secret
agenda. We are informed that if this term had not been so furiously rejected by
the conservative opponents of revolution, our European nations would have been
relatively more salvageable. But now that several decades have passed since the
book was first published, had the author still been alive he may well have been
surprised to learn that his ideas have found significant expression within the
ranks of those who have become known as ‘conservative revolutionaries’. For
Evola, therefore, perhaps the apparently conflicting terminology in this phrase
would have been a misnomer. On the contrary, it was used throughout the
twentieth century by men such as Arthur Moeller van den Bruck, Michael Walker,
Armin Mohler and Otto Strasser. In fact Evola tells us himself that
‘conservative revolution’ should not be connected with the term ‘reaction’
because the former has distinctly positive and energetic connotations.
Revolution in this sense, he admits, simply means restoring order and thus
avoiding entirely its chaotic antithesis. He even defines revolution (revolutio)
- not as a departure from prevailing trends - but as a return to origins. Thus
revolution, in his evaluation of the term, indicates a replenishment of that
which has gone before.
But the word "conservative" can also be very misleading. Evola argues that "it
is necessary to first establish as exactly as possible what needs to be
'preserved'". He is also under no illusion that capitalists have long used this
term with which to advance the interests of their own class, rather than
"committing themselves to a stout defence of a higher right, dignity, and
impersonal legacy of values, ideas and principles." This suggests a kind of
aristocratic benevolence, a chivalric sense of duty and sacrifice. Evola also
believes that the State must not concern itself with economic matters, rather
assuming a transcendent role in opposition to the class-oriented obsessions of
both the bourgeoisie and Marxists alike. Furthermore, he tells us, "what really
counts is to be faithful not to past forms and institutions, but rather to
principles of which such forms and institutions have been particular
expressions." So, therefore, the success of tradition lies in our ability to
create new forms from the etymological drawing-board which inspired those of the
past, a process which works its way down through the generations as though
divinely inspired. In other words it is not the transitory or - in the case of
historical personality cults - even the idolatrous facets which are of value,
but those which are everlasting and permanent. Indeed, Evola pours scorn upon
the very term ‘historical’ because such matters rise above and beyond the whole
notion of history altogether. Mircea Eliade has discussed this idea at length in
The Myth of The Eternal Return [Princeton, 1991], echoed here by Evola: "These
principles are not compromised by the fact that in various instances an
individual, out of weakness or due to other reasons, was able to actualise them
or to even implement them partially at one point in his life rather than
another." The designers and schemers of the modern age, of course, dismiss these
aspects as having been a consequence of the period in which they were apparently
expressed. So therefore tradition and historicism are totally irreconcilable.
The author’s own homeland also comes in for some criticism, with Evola firmly
believing that Italy has no material or ideological connection with tradition
and that her only hope lies in a spiritual renewal.
Returning to the dangers of revolution - at least in the purely negative sense
as defined above - we are reminded of the more positive, Hegelian analysis: "the
negation of the negation." In other words, eradicating that which in itself has
been the great eradicator is a worthwhile objective. On the other hand, Evola is
being slightly pedantic when he criticises the adoption of the "revolutionary
spirit," lest it sound too progressive or wild. His denunciation of the
unfulfilling legend of technological advancement, however, is very accurate
indeed: "Those who are not subject to the predominant materialism of our times,
upon recognising the only context in which it is legitimate to speak of
progress, will be on guard against any orientation in which the modern 'myth of
progress' is reflected." Indeed, there are many such examples, all of which
contend either blindly or knowingly that the past must be eradicated for the
good of the present. This, says Evola, is "history’s demolition squad." It is
rather surprising, therefore, to consider that in his youth Evola offered his
support to Italian Futurism. Not, of course, that Marinetti’s pledge to raze
libraries and museums to the ground was ever designed to be an attempt to
destroy the perennial essence which always transcends the purely anachronistic.
The contentious issue of Fascism is also tackled by Evola and is here regarded
as being valid only when it concords with tradition. To stand vigorously in
favour of Fascism simply for its own sake, is akin to the fulminating negativity
inherent within many of its anti-fascist opponents.
2. SOVEREIGNTY - AUTHORITY - IMPERIUM
According to Evola, "every true political unity appears as the embodiment of an
idea and a power, thus distinguishing itself from every form of naturalistic
association or 'natural right', and also from every societal aggregation
determined by mere social, economic, biological, utilitarian, or eudemonistic
factors." He goes on to point out that, for the Romans at least, the very idea
of an imperium of sovereign power was something perceived to be highly sacred.
This functioned by way of a mystical trinity comprised of the Leader (auctoritas),
the Nobility (gens) and the State (res publica). Evola’s interpretation of the
imperium is certainly supported by those historians who - like Edward Gibbon and
Oswald Spengler - have allowed the Holy Roman Empire its own unique and symbolic
niche in both time and space. That it prevailed until its disastrous collapse at
Constantinople in 1453, of course, is demonstrative of the way in which the very
idea of imperium survived the various cycles of history in which it found
itself. Evola also reminds us of De Maistre’s assertion that a "power and
authority that are not absolute, are not real authority or real power" at all.
The author then turns his mind to judicial matters, stating that, whenever the
State rises above the merely temporal laws of the nation, it assumes the role of
an independently organic entity. In other words, Evola is basically suggesting
that in cases of national emergency, for example, the State can flex its muscles
and prove just how transcendent it really is by overriding the laws of the
judiciary. This notion will fill the average supporter of democracy and
egalitarianism with some horror, but Evola is referring to a central principle
of authoritative order rather than advocating that a fascist dictatorship rule
over the masses with an iron fist (although he does suggest that a temporary
dictatorship can often get things back on track). Indeed, this is rather similar
to the way Cicero analyses Natural Law and the fact that it only applies to
those who seek to transgress its permanently entrenched codes.
Evola also refutes the idea that power should rise up to the State from the
grass roots, for example in the way that Muammar al-Qathafi explains the concept
in The Green Book. As far as he is concerned, the State is not the expression or
embodiment of the people at all. This "political domain is defined through
hierarchical, heroic, ideal, anti-hedonistic, and, to a degree, even
anti-eudemonistic values that set it apart from the order of naturalistic and
vegetative life." But this is almost like a paradox. If the State completely
transcends the ordinary functions of what most people consider to be the role of
a State, then surely Evola’s vision is one of anarchic authority? Evola may have
disagreed with the use of the term "anarchy," but surely the State for him is
more mystical than fully tangible in the purely ordinary sense? By this, I am
implying that the State is present as a guiding authority at the helm of a
nation or empire, but absent in terms of the way it is perceived by most people.
Anarchy, of course, does not mean that authority is non-existent, it simply
refers to the absence of rule. Therefore Evola’s concept of the mystical State
may well be altogether detached from the socio-economic version which writers
like Peter Kropotkin (The State: Its Historic Role), Michael Bakunin (Marxism,
Freedom & The State) or Herbert Spencer (The Man Versus The State) have gone to
such great lengths in order to analyse and dissect. Evola makes a profound
distinction between the political and social aspects of the State, arguing that
it emanates from a specific family (gens) and thus rejecting the idea that
states can arise from the naturalistic plane. At first, this appears to be a
contradiction in terms, because, surely, the family is a naturalistic
phenomenon? On the contrary, Evola is referring to an altogether different
interpretation of the term "family," that of the Mannerbunde (or all-male
fraternity). Given the nature of the Mafia, of course, Italians should find it
that much easier to appreciate the subtle differences in terminology. Evola was
also a Freemason and wrote extensively on the Mithraic sun-cult, both prime
examples of the Mannerbunde and possessing deep initiatic qualities which - by
way of a series of trials and degrees - take the male apprentice way beyond his
maternalistic upbringing on the exoteric plane. Thus a significant change takes
place both within the man himself and the way he is then perceived by others.
But this interpretation is not designed to leave women out of the equation, it
simply states that whilst men are the natural frequenters of the mystical, or
political, domain, women are the pivotal masters of society. It lies completely
"under the feminine aegis." Those readers who are familiar with Evola’s Revolt
Against The Modern World [Inner Traditions, 1995] will grasp the higher
significance of what Evola is trying to say. Indeed, in the present work he
summarises these metaphysical concepts thus: "The common mythological background
is that of the duality of the luminous and heavenly deities, who are the gods of
the political and heroic world on the one hand, and of the feminine and maternal
deities of naturalistic existence, who were loved by the plebeian strata of
society on the other hand. Thus, even in the ancient Roman world, the idea of
State and of imperium (i.e., of the sacred authority) was strictly connected to
the symbolic cult of the virile deities of heaven, of light and of the
super-world in opposition to the dark region of the Mothers and the chthonic
deities." If we follow Evola’s line of thinking, we soon arrive at the medieval
idea of the divine right of kings. This, he tells us, was a development which -
contrary to the earlier imperium - was not consolidated "by the power of a
rite." Traditional Catholics would disagree wholeheartedly with this conclusion,
at least right up until the Reformation and Henry VIII’s well-documented break
with Rome. And if the divine right of kings is one step removed from the
imperium, the next logical stage of decline is that of Socialism and the demos;
which Evola describes as "the degradation and contamination of the political
principle." Furthermore, he argues, "[b]oth democracy and socialism ratify the
shift from the masculine to the feminine and from the spiritual to the material
and the promiscuous."
Evola is often portrayed by his opponents as a "fascist," but it may surprise
many of them to learn that he relegates "romantic and idealistic" concepts such
as the nation, the homeland, and the people to the purely naturalistic and
biological level. These issues, he contends, have replaced a political principle
that is representative of a far higher and more penetrating tradition. By
refusing to accept the legitimacy of feudalism or the authority of the Holy
Roman Empire, he argues, nation-states tried to create their own pockets of
authority. Thus, the struggle between popes and princes, kings and noblemen, led
a vast centralisation of power which was epitomised by the Third Estate. This is
where Evola returns to what he perceives as the crucial - and destructive - role
played by the 1789 French Revolution, whereby the final vestiges of tradition
were erased from the face of Europe. The process was aided by the 1848
Revolution and the onslaught of the First World War, pitting nation against
nation in the name of "patriotism." Furthermore, he says, elevating a national
identity or geographical territory to a kind of mystical status completely
erodes both authority and sovereignty. Nations are associated with female
terminology - Motherland, for example - and therefore "attributed to the Great
Mother in ancient plebeian gynecocracies and in societies that ignored the
virile and political principle of the imperium." Evola goes on to compare the
political unit of the nation with the position of the soul in comparison to the
body. In other words, it assumes an "inner form," which totally goes beyond the
popular understanding of the way a nation is defined. It is true, after all,
that nations do not arise purely by themselves and so the hidden - spiritual -
component is the true guiding force. The nation is only perceived as an
independent entity with a life of its own once the political aspect has been
significantly weakened: "From the political class understood as an Order and a
Mannerbund a shift occurs to to the democratic ruling classes who presume to
'represent' the people and who acquire for themselves the various offices or
positions of power by flattering and manipulating the masses." This, according
to Evola, is due to the lack of real men in contemporary society and - paying
his respects to Carlyle in the process - he goes on to warn us that we live in a
"world of domestics that yearns to be ruled by a pseudo-hero.' Indeed, there is
little doubt that the parliamentary system, for example, never fails to deviate
from the idea of the nation as myth, despite the fact that the political sphere
is never regarded as being sovereign in itself. Evola attacks universal suffrage
because he sees it as the consequence of "the degradation of the ruling class."
It is certainly a fact that the reforms of the nineteenth century were achieved
at the expense of the ruling classes, but, from an Evolian perspective, the
scales were tipped at both ends. The consequence of this formative episode in
European history, modern democracy, saw the true political unit replaced with a
corrupt and bastardised system based entirely on materialism.
But what of those nations which have actually followed the political principle
to the letter? We are informed by Evola that the nation will always be
potentially compromised, whilst "on the one side stand the masses, in which,
besides changing feelings, the same elementary instincts and interests connected
to a physical and hedonistic plane will always have free play; and on the other
side stand men who differentiate themselves from the masses as bearers of a
complete legitimacy and authority, bestowed by the Idea and by their rigorous,
impersonal adherence to it. The Idea, only the Idea, must be the true fatherland
for these men: what unites and sets them apart should consist in adherence to
the same idea, rather than to the same land, language, or blood." This is a
pretty bold statement, given that Evola is usually - and wrongly - associated
with certain elements of the Far Right. Perhaps this is why the Assassins and
their Knights Templar contemporaries found that they had so much in common? That
which is most important, therefore, is not one’s adherence to a nation or a race
- which instantly means that one must love, respect and work for the best
interests of his compatriots without question - but one’s loyalty and fidelity
to the very essence and spirit of tradition. In Evola’s own words: "The true
task and the necessary premise for the rebirth of the 'nation' and for its
renewed form and conscience consists of untying and separating that which only
apparently, promiscuously, or collectively appears to be one entity, and in
re-establishing a virile substance in the form of a political elite around which
a new crystallisation will occur." This, of course, is very different to the
sheep-like mentality of most nationalist groups. One only has to look at the
recent revival in England of a pseudo-patriotism built upon the most base and
plebeian values of modern culture. Aligning oneself with existing national
stereotypes, of course, is hardly making an attempt to transcend the sterile
values which are embraced by the masses. The Idea that Evola talks about is
based upon "strength and clarity, rather than 'idealism' and sentimentality."
The nation has to be integrated with the political, so that the whole concept is
raised to a much higher level by replacing the degenerative ruling classes with
a new, elite aristocracy of cadres.
3. PERSONALITY - FREEDOM – HIERARCHY
In this chapter the author begins by attacking liberalism, the chief scourge
behind the French Revolution. Many have tried to define liberalism, including
Traditional Catholics like Pope Pius XI [Quadragesimo Anno], Archbishop Marcel
Lefebvre [They Have Uncrowned Him], Fr. Felix Sarda y Salvany [What Is
Liberalism?] and Rev. Fr. Stephen P. DeLallo [The Sword of Christendom],
although today the word is wrongly associated with anarcho-capitalists and
right-wing libertarians. So how does Evola define the term?: "The essence of
liberalism is individualism. The basis of its error is to mistake the notion of
the person with that of the individual and to claim for the latter,
unconditionally and according to egalitarian premises, some values that should
rather be attributed solely to the former, and then only conditionally. Because
of this transposition, these values are transformed into errors, or into
something absurd and harmful." Egalitarianism - another mainstay of the 1879
Revolution - is completely dismissed by Evola due to its fundamentally
ridiculous belief in the equality of all individuals. It not only relegates the
person to the level of a mere part within the broader egalitarian mass, which
Evola rightly shows to be a contradiction in terms, it obliterates human
diversity by suggesting that no one person is significantly different to
another. From the judicial perspective, of course, it is surely wrong to
establish a form of fake "justice" by ensuring that everybody is legally bound
in an unjust manner. It is also entirely out of step with Natural Law. Evola
explains: "the lower degrees of reality are differentiated from the higher ones
because in the lower degrees a whole can be broken down into many parts, all of
which retain the same quality (as in the case of the parts of a non-crystallised
mineral, or those parts of some plants and animals that reproduce themselves by
parthenogenesis); in the higher degrees of reality this is no longer possible,
as there is a higher organic unity in them that does not allow itself to be
split without being compromised and without its parts entirely losing the
quality, meaning, and function they had in it." When Evola speaks of
parthenogenesis, of course, he is referring to those invertebrates and lower
plants which engage in a form of sterile self-reproduction. The allegedly "free"
individual, therefore, is considered to be inorganic and much lower than its
organic superior. Meanwhile, the true person is he who continues to remain
"unequal" due to his own distinct features and abilities. Natural individuation
is not the same as crass individualism. At the same time, however, Evola does
not infer that everyone deserves the "right" to be regarded as a person. Thus,
he dispels the liberal myth that all of us possess some form of "human dignity"
regardless of who we are. In fact there are several different levels of dignity
each contained within a just and specific hierarchy. So once again, Evola is
dismissing the egalitarian idea of a "universal right," brotherhood of equality
or an automatic entitlement of some kind. In times gone by, however, "'peers'
and 'equals' were often aristocratic concepts: in Sparta, the title homoioi
('equals') belonged exclusively to the elite in power (the title was revoked in
cases of misconduct)."
Moving on, the notion of freedom - a favourite catchword of those engaged in the
struggle between classes - is regarded in the same manner. It is something we
enjoy as a consequence of who we are as a person, rather than simply because we
happen to be a member of humanity. Evola remarks that freedom does not come in
any one form, but is actually multifarious and homogenous. He goes on to suggest
that the freedom "to do" is quite different from the freedom "for doing."
Indeed, whilst the former has to function within a controlled and standardised
system of liberal "equality" (which inevitably leads, therefore, to one class
disregarding the freedoms of others), the latter has more in common with
Aleister Crowley’s often-misunderstood expressions "do as thou wilt" and "every
man and woman is a star." In other words, by possessing the freedom "to do," one
can follow one’s own unique course and act in accordance with one’s true nature.
So how does the individual relate to society as a whole? Tradition accords with
the ultimate supremacy of the individual, or what Ernst Junger has defined
elsewhere as "the anarch" or "sovereign individual" [see Eumeswil, Quartet,
1993]. Evola even puts the sovereignty of the person before the State, because
he views people not "as they are conceived by individualism, as atoms or a mass
of atoms, but people as persons, as differentiated beings, each one endowed with
a different rank, a different freedom, a different right within the social
hierarchy based on the values of creating, constructing, obeying, and
commanding. With people such as these it is possible to establish the true
State, namely an anti-liberal, anti-democratic, and organic State." This vision,
however, depends upon the advancement of the person through various stages of
individuation and self-awareness. Natural inequality, therefore, will lead to an
organic structure of society at the very helm of which stands the "absolute
individual." This figurehead, says Evola, is completely different to the mere
concept of the individual because it encapsulates that which is most qualitative
within man. The "absolute individual" is fundamentally opposed to the concept
that society itself is the ultimate manifestation of humanity. It is the sheer
pinnacle of a transcendental sovereignty which represents the synthesising
nature of the imperium. Moreover, of course, the idea can become manifest within
the framework of the nation and seems defiantly opposed to present trends like
globalisation and multi-racialism: "Thus, it is a positive and legitimate thing
to uphold the right of the nation in order to assert an elementary and natural
principle of difference of a given human group over and against all the forms of
individualistic disintegration, international mixture and proletarisation, and
especially against the mere world of the masses and pure economy." To achieve
this process, Evola declares that the State must be established from the nation
itself.
But if one is seeking to fully align himself with the principles of Evolian
thought, a person who is free in the true sense of the word must never be
constrained by national, racial or family ties. This does not imply that he
should actively seek to turn himself against them, on the contrary, the
importance is to follow one’s own path. Indeed, this course - which must lead
towards the creation of the New Man - requires great discipline and
understanding. Many who try, however, will fall by the wayside: "he who does not
have the capability to dominate himself and to give himself a code to abide by
would not know how to dominate others according to justice or how to give them a
law to follow. The second foundation is the idea. previously upheld by Plato,
that those who cannot be their own masters should find a master outside of
themselves, since practising the discipline of obeying should teach these people
how to master their own selves." People are therefore different, although Evola
does make a distinction between the ruthlessness of "natural selection" and that
of respect. In ancient societies the people who were most respected and admired
were those with special abilities and qualities, not simply animalistic strength
and brute force. The secret, of course, is to ensure that "power is based on
superiority and not vice versa." It is certainly not necessary to bludgeon
people into submission in order to get them to respect true leadership and
ability. In the light of what Evola really thinks about such matters, therefore,
you have to wonder why on earth Evolian Tradition was ever compared to Fascist
totalitarianism in the first place.
The fact that Evola so openly acknowledges that there are various stations in
life will outrage liberals, Marxists and advocates of democracy alike. But he
is, nevertheless, absolutely correct. Forcing people to accord with a societal
conglomeration which has been enshrined in law by a coterie of dogmatists and
architectural levellers, is simply not allowing people to discover and thus
accomplish their true destinies. Evola believes that historical events have
often been determined by the manner in which "the inferior" - which is not used
in a derogatory sense - regard their "superior" counterparts. Indeed, to believe
that humanity can somehow be subjected to a form of international utilitarianism
is naive and misguided in the extreme. Humans are prone to "emotional or
irrational motivation" and, inevitably, this will usually be the dominant factor
which shapes the course of their lives. The Evolian - and, thus, traditional -
approach to organisation lies in what is described as the "anagogical function"
of the State and its latent ability to both engender and co-ordinate the
individual’s sacrificial capacity to ally himself with a higher principle. The
success of man’s organisational capacity, therefore, is not based purely on
economics or prosperity but depends on whether the organic hierarchical balance
has been maintained effectively. Within the liberal system, of course, the
balance is upset by the fact that he "who becomes an individual, by ceasing to
have an organic meaning and by refusing to acknowledge any principle of
authority, is nothing more than a number, a unit in the pack; his usurpation
evokes a fatal collectivist limitation against himself." Liberalism, therefore,
may appear to defend freedom but it is actually a means of subverting it
altogether. Marxism functions in the same way and both ideologies stem - once
again - from the French Revolution: "when Western man broke the ties to
Tradition, claiming for himself as an individual a vain and illusory freedom:
when he became an atom in society, rejecting every higher symbol of authority
and sovereignty in a system of hierarchies." Fascism, by falsely claiming to
restore the traditional equilibrium, actually worsened the situation by
initiating a crude and materialistic form of totalitarianism.
The worst example of liberalism is its dependence upon economic exploitation.
Evola charts the decline of economic stability from the death of the feudal
system - when "the organic connection . . . between personality and property,
social function and wealth, and between a given qualification or moral nobility
and the rightful and legitimate possession of goods, was broken" - and the onset
of the Napoleonic Code, right through to the desanctification of property and
the arrival of the unscrupulous capitalist. So what, according to Evola, is the
role of the traditionalist in light of the modern evils which were unleashed
over two hundred years ago? Our response must be founded upon a return to
origins: "To go back to the origins means, plainly and simply, to reject
anything that in any domain (whether social, political, or economic) is
connected to the 'immortal principles' of 1789, as a libertarian,
individualistic, and egalitarian thought, and to oppose it with the hierarchical
view, in the context of which alone the notion, value, and freedom of man as
person are not reduced to mere words or excuses for a work of destruction and
subversion."
4. ORGANIC STATE – TOTALITARIANISM
Evola now attempts to make a distinction between the totalitarian and organic
State. The democracies have gone to great lengths in order to portray the
traditional State "in a heinous way," ensuring that opponents of democracy are
instantly equated with brutality and fascism. Totalitarianism, being a
relatively modern word, is inevitably applied to past systems in a purely
retrospective manner. Evola, however, seeks to approach the question of
totalitarianism by examining the way in which the term is actually defined by
the democracies. Therefore whenever the author refers to the more positive
aspects of "totalitarianism," these components are said to accord with the
organic State: "A State is organic when it has a centre, and this centre is an
idea that shapes the various domains of life in an efficacious way; it is
organic when it ignores the division and the autonomisation of the particular
and when, by virtue of a system of hierarchical participation, every part within
its relative autonomy performs its own function and enjoys an intimate
connection with the whole." It is not difficult to see how this differs
fundamentally with the individualism and liberalism of the modern age. Evola
rightly points out that more traditional societies were even able to accommodate
a loyal opposition. In stark contrast to the representative party system of
today, the early English Parliament was far more pluralist and was often heard
to refer to "His Majesty’s Most Loyal Opposition."
But the organic State also had a spiritual or religious dimension, whereby the
political was formulated in accordance with a more penetrating and unitary
outlook. This, says Evola, is what makes the organic synonymous with the
traditional. In the minds of the liberals and the communists, of course, this
healthy approach to former societies and a more pluralist style of organisation
inevitably means that tradition is wrongly equated with "fascism." Evola, on the
other hand, is able to counter this fraudulent analogy by explaining that
"totalitarianism merely represents the counterfeited image of the organic ideal.
It is a system in which unity is imposed from the outside, not on the basis of
the intrinsic force of a common idea and an authority that is naturally
acknowledged, but rather through direct forms of intervention and control,
exercised by a power that is exclusively and materially political, imposing
itself as the ultimate reason for the system." Having lived through Mussolini’s
Italy, of course, Evola was more than aware of the shortcomings relating to the
Corporate State. Totalitarian dictatorship also fails to accept the organic
chain that runs between the upper and lower poles of traditional society,
replacing pluralism, decentralisation and participation with the fuhrer-princip.
Furthermore, the totalitarian State "engenders a kind of sclerosis, or a
monstrous hypertrophy of the entire bureaucratic-administrative structure." The
Orwellian ministries of Nazi Germany spring to mind, becoming "all-pervasive,
replacing and suppressing every particular activity, without any restraints, due
to an insolent intrusion of the public sphere into the private domain,
organising everything into rigid schemes." But these characteristics are not a
purely modern phenomenon, on the contrary, as Oswald Spengler notes in The
Decline of the West [Oxford University Press, 1991, p. 73]: "the great cultures
accomplish their majestic wave-cycles. They appear suddenly, swell in splendid
lines, flatten again and vanish, and the face of the waters is once more a
sleeping waste." Thus, a similar pattern emerged during the death-throes of
Persia and Greece and, according to Edward Gibbon: "the demise of Rome was the
natural and inevitable effect of immoderate greatness. Prosperity ripened the
principle of decay; the cause of destruction multiplied with the extent of
conquest; and as soon as time or accident had removed the artificial supports,
the stupendous fabric yielded to the pressure of its own weight. The story of
its ruin is simple and obvious; and instead of inquiring why the Roman Empire
was destroyed, we should rather be surprised that it had subsisted so long."
[The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Chatto & Windus, 1960, p. 524-5].
Similarly, Evola likens the degenerative process to a living organism: "after
enjoying life and movement, a stiffening sets in when they die that is typical
of a body turning into a corpse. This state, in turn, is followed by the
terminal phase of disintegration."
The way in which the organic or traditional State is perceived is also
important. Fascism and Marxism tend to lead to blind statism, but Evola believes
that the organic State must be granted a degree of "Statolatry." In other words,
rather than seeking to worship the State for its own sake, "[t]here is a
profound and substantial difference between the deification and absolutisation
of what is profane and the case in which the political reality derives its
legitimisation from reference points that are also spiritual and somehow
transcendent." This is the difference between the materialist and the spiritual,
the totalitarian and the organic. The spiritual element acts like a societal
adhesive, binding together the unitary whole to which the people are willingly
attached without coercion or repression. In contemporary Western societies it is
considered normal in certain occupations and ceremonies to undertake an oath.
But despite being a remnant of the distant past, the oath today has been
stripped of its sacred implications and has become empty, meaningless and
contractual. This is because the State and various other national institutions
have become a merely temporal form of authority, rendering the more spiritual
expressions of verbal fidelity completely irrelevant. The gulf between the
contractual and the traditional is demonstrated by the way in which the
"Official Secrets Act" is designed to secure the loyalty of the individual to
the State. In feudal times, of course, the intrinsically transcendent nature of
the oath became manifest by way of the sacramenum fidelitatis. This was
infinitely more binding than giving one’s allegiance to a company, an
institution or a squadron.
But when the traditional State is said to represent a unitary organism it must
not be compared, warns Evola, to the humanistic vision epitomised by Hegel’s
"Ethical State." Indeed, when Hegel perceives the individual to be part of a
universal code of ethics, he is looking at humanity through rose-tinted
spectacles. The unworkable liberalism which pervades this idealistic
interpretation will only lead to one thing: totalitarianism in the name of
"tradition" and "order." Therefore the "ethical" State inevitably leads to the
"fascist" State, with the destructive multi-party system being replaced with an
even more dangerous one-party dictatorship. Muammar al-Qadhafi, whose vision of
the "organic" State conflicts with that proposed by Evola and other
traditionalists, defines the party thus: "It is the modern dictatorial
instrument of governing. The party is the rule of a part over the whole" [The
Green Book, Tripoli, 1977, p. 11]. On this point Evola agrees, suggesting that
once the party has ascended to power it simply tries to advance the interests of
its own faction. It is therefore divisive and threatens the stability of that
which must be unitary and transcendent. The solution to this problem, it seems,
lies in the re-establishment of an elite suited to maintaining the balance of
sovereignty and authority. Evola suggests that this can be done from within by
both installing and enduring a period of interregnum, although
National-Anarchists prefer to advocate the foundation of new decentralised
communities on the periphery from which elite cadres recreate the very essence
of true aristocracy.
5. BONAPARTISM - MACHIAVELLIANISM - ELITISM
Bonapartism is a rather unusual term and one which Evola borrows from R. Michels,
author of the 1915 work Political Parties: A Sociological Study of the
Oligarchical Tendencies of Modern Democracy. Michels demonstrates how
representative democracy and "government of the people" leads to the control of
the State by a self-interested minority. This view is echoed by J. Burnham in
The Machiavellians, who explains that the so-called "will of the people" is
eventually superseded by the domination of a bureaucratic clique. Thus
Bonapartism begins with a popular demand for more freedom and equality and ends
in the totalitarian "dictatorship of the proletariat." Evola likens this process
to a people who have catastrophically "led and disciplined themselves." After
the decline of its aristocratic nobility, ancient Greece witnessed the same
systematically repressive phenomenon. Power simply became detached from a
higher, spiritual authority, leading to fear and brutality. Evola then turns to
Otto Weininger, who once "described the figure of the great politician as one
who is a despot and at the same time a worshipper of the people, or
simultaneously a pimp and a whore." Indeed, by seeking to appeal to the masses
the modern leader easily commands their respect and adulation. Not in the way
that traditional societies gave their loyalty to the organic State, however,
because instead of engendering a healthy diversity between the various levels
(not classes) of society Bonapartism forces the politician to become a "man of
the people." Therefore he is perceived as a common man, rather than as someone
exceptionally transcendent and symbolic. This, Weininger called "mutual
prostitution." Authority is perfectly useless unless it is attached to a central
idea which runs throughout the social fabric and acts as a point of reference.
This affects the individual because one "is restricted not so much in this or
that exterior freedom (which is, after all, of little consequence) but rather in
the inner freedom - the ability to free himself from his lowest instincts."
Bonapartism - which Evola interprets here as a political, rather than
militaristic, term - is equated with dictatorship because this is the logical
result of its democratic ethos. It completely erodes the traditional values of
human existence, refusing to "distinguish clearly between the symbol, the
function, and the principle, on the one hand, and man as an individual, on the
other." Instead, it rejects "that a man be valued and recognised in terms of the
idea and principle he upholds" and simply views man in terms of "his action upon
the irrational forms of the masses." Similarly, Evola points out the errors
which began with Social-Darwinism and consequently found expression in
Nietzsche’s concept of the Superman (Ubermensch): "most people, even when they
admit the notion of aristocracy in principle, ultimately settle for a very
limited view of it: they admire an individual for being exceptional and
brilliant, instead of for being one in whom a tradition and a special 'spiritual
race' shine forth, or instead of whose greatness is due not to his human
virtues, but rather to the principle, the idea, and a certain regal
impersonality that he embodies."
Machiavellianism - despite its frequent portrayal as an aristocratic notion - is
also a highly individualist philosophy. Indeed, although the concept of The
Prince rejects democracy and the masses, it makes the fatal mistake of
encouraging power and authority to reside in the hands of man. In other words,
man is himself the be all and end all of Machiavellian doctrine. Such men are
not connected to a chain of Tradition, they are merely interested in deploying
their political capabilities to advance their own interests. His very position
is maintained by lies, deceit and manipulation, becoming a rampant political
monster to which everything must be methodically subjected. This is clearly very
different to the way in which traditional aristocracies functioned and indicates
that Machiavellianism is a consequence of the general decline. True elitism,
argues Evola, degenerates in four stages: "in the first stage the elite has a
purely spiritual character, embodying what may be generally called ‘divine
right’. This elite expresses an ideal of immaterial virility. In the second
stage, the elite has the character of warrior nobility; at the third stage we
find the advent of oligarchies of a plutocratic and capitalistic nature, such as
they arise in democracies; the fourth and last elite is that of the collectivist
and revolutionary leaders of the Fourth Estate."
6. WORK: THE DEMONIC NATURE OF THE ECONOMY
When Evola discusses the "demonic nature of the economy," we are instantly
reminded of the capitalist free market and communism’s deterministic assessment
of man as economic unit (homo economicus). In the modern age economic forces
have become the new gods of Mammon, creating a dangerous and cataclysmic
antithesis to the spiritual aspirations of the ancient world. We have already
examined how Evola warns against the lack of hierarchical authority, and in this
chapter he demonstrates how both capitalism and Marxism have completely
subverted the organic nature of our whole existence: "as long as we only talk
about economic classes, profit, salaries, and production, and as long as we
believe that real human progress is determined by a particular system of
distribution of wealth and goods, and that, generally speaking, human progress
is measured by the degree of wealth or indigence - then we are not even close to
what is essential." Thus work and the modern economy are depicted as the
penultimate goals of human endeavour, rather than man accepting that his natural
interests must lie ultimately in the satisfaction of his own material needs.
This is not to suggest that food, clothing and shelter are the most important
facets of human existence, simply that they are the most basic prerequisites of
all. Man also needs to be satisfied both spiritually and as part of a structure
which: "neither knows nor tolerates merely economic classes and does not know
the division between ‘capitalists’ and ‘proletarians’; an order solely in terms
of which are to be defined the things worth living and dying for. We must also
uphold the need for a true hierarchy and for different dignitaries, with a
higher function of power installed at the top, namely the imperium." But this
vision is hardly being fulfilled today. Everything is geared towards economic
production and, inevitably, wage-slavery. Evola does not believe in the
formulation of a new economic theory, instead he explains that the current
obsession with economic matters can only decline once people change their
attitudes completely: "What must be questioned is not the value of this or that
economic system, but the value of the economy itself." This is a fundamental
part of National-Anarchist thinking, too, a total rejection of the Left-Right
spectrum which, once again, ever since the French Revolution has imposed upon us
a wholly superficial antithesis between two allegedly opposed economic
ideologies. Those so-called "backward" nations which, thus far, have avoided
economic development are said by Evola to "enjoy a certain space and a relative
freedom." By seizing upon the issue of class, Marxists have deliberately
obscured the components of the ancient world by smearing them with an economic
grime. In traditional societies, of course, the economy was simply one area
within an all-encompassing hierarchical structure. Terms like "capitalist" and
"proletarian" did not exist and class struggle was redundant: "Even in the
domain of the economy, a normal civilisation provides specific justification for
certain differences in condition, dignity, and function." Marxism, says Evola,
did not come about due to the need for a resolution to the social question, on
the contrary, Marxism itself has exacerbated the problem by creating the myth of
the class system. In traditional societies "an individual contained his need and
aspirations within natural limits; he did not yearn to become different from
what he was, and thus he was innocent of that Entfremdung (alienation) decried
by Marxism." Leninists, Trotskyists and other advocates of the class struggle
will recoil in horror at this statement, but Evola is denouncing the materialist
desires of the common economic agitator rather than supporting the aspirations
of the "ruling class." Indeed, economic determinism is considered to be
unhealthy and detrimental because "it can legitimately be claimed that the
so-called improvement of social conditions should be regarded not as good but as
evil, when its price consists of the enslavement of the single individual to the
productive mechanism and to the social conglomerate; or in the degradation of
the State to the ‘State based on work’, and the degradation of society to
‘consumer society’; or in the elimination of every qualitative hierarchy; or in
the atrophy of every spiritual sensibility and every ‘heroic’ attitude." There
is little doubt, therefore, that the appliance of the economic worldview comes
at a great cost. Evola implores us to express our real selves and to unleash our
true potential. Each of us has a different function and a unique position to
fulfil. Class conflict, therefore, is a diversion which has been thrust in the
path of the unitary and the organic. In terms of the way in which we approach
work, Evola tells us that an American attempt to extract more labour from a
Third World workforce by doubling their wages, was met with "a majority of the
workers cutting their working hours in half." Compare this traditionalist
attitude with that of the modern-day office or factory worker who perpetually
competes for overtime with his colleagues. Indeed, whilst traditional societies
are merely interested in satisfying their basic needs, those in the West endure
increasingly long hours, exhaustion, bad diets and severe health problems in
their pursuit for computers, televisions and cars. Evola notes that, prior to
the rise of the mercantile economy and the gradual evolution of capitalism, "the
acquisition of external goods had to be restricted and that work and the quest
for profit were justifiable only in order to acquire a level of wealth
corresponding to one’s status in life: this was the Thomist and, later, the
Lutheran view." Work was always designed to satisfy man’s basic needs and
provide him with the time he needed in order to pursue more worthy and
meaningful pursuits. But when the acquisition of wealth becomes such an
obsession that it imprisons the individual within an economic straightjacket,
something is clearly very wrong indeed. Success, therefore, is not determined by
the credit in one’s bank account or the growth of industry and technology, it
relates to the way in which an individual is able to progress in a more
spiritual sense. Living in accordance with one’s own intrinsic nature (dharma)
is far preferable to pushing oneself beyond the boundaries of normal behaviour
through greed and materialism. This trend is epitomised by the restless nature
of the capitalistic economy and its exploitative pursuit of new global markets.
In the knowledge, of course, that once it has run its inevitable course the lack
of available resources will herald its total collapse.
The emergence of capitalism has often been equated with the Protestant work
ethic, and is here dismissed by Evola for the simple reason that labour has been
transformed from a means of subsistence to an end in itself. It is not only the
Right who are obsessed with work, of course, it is the Left too. One thinks of
endless marches organised by the likes of Militant Labour and the Socialist
Workers Party, during which the only objective is to enslave the proletariat to
the employment system: "The most peculiar thing is that this superstitious and
insolent cult of work is proclaimed in an era in which the irreversible and
relentless mechanisation eliminates from the main varieties of work whatever in
them still had a character of quality, art, and the spontaneous unfoldment of a
vocation, turning it into something inanimate and devoid of even an immanent
meaning." Evola sees this process as the very proletarianisation of life itself.
There are certain parallels here with Richard Hunt’s advocation of the "leisure
society," in which man can rediscover the natural and qualitative values of his
existence. But Evola warns his readers that we must not "shift to a renunciatory,
utopian, and miserable civilisation," but rather "clear every domain of life of
insane tensions and to restore a true hierarchy of values."
But whilst the individual is inadvertently eroding his own freedoms by viewing
work as the ultimate goal in life, the State is also endangering its own
existence through the encroaching scarcity of resources to which increasing
productivity leads. Evola argues that the way forward lies in "autarchy," and
that "it is better to renounce the allure of improving general social and
economic conditions and to adopt a regime of austerity than to become enslaved
to foreign interests or to become caught up in world processes of reckless
economic hegemony and productivity that are destined to sweep away those who
have set them in motion." On this point, however, Evola is perhaps forgetting
that the decline of capitalistic economies is inevitable and therefore it is
futile to postpone their collapse by implementing a policy of protectionism.
This strategy may indeed enable a country to stave off the effects of an
impending economic catastrophe, but given that all capitalist systems rely on
the internationalist system, this simply would not work in the long term.
7. HISTORY - HISTORICISM
Evola now turns his attention to the way in which history is so often presented
as a religious tenet of the modern age, representing the switch from a world of
being towards that of a world of becoming. Indeed, whilst the former relates to
an organic and stable form of civilisation, the latter denotes a chaotic and
constantly evolving process in which "rationalist, scientific, and technological
civilisation" acts as the pied piper of our rapid decline. Rationalism was
perceived by Hegel as reality itself. Likewise, reality is also rational. But
traditional values, says Evola, cannot be analysed or defined in this way
because they are based on something far beyond the comprehension of mere
philosophy. Historicism often regards those episodes which it cannot account for
as "anti-historical." This has been said of historical phenomena which appear to
obstruct the process of development in accordance with the rationalist
worldview. This is why historicists and modernists are fond of portraying
conservatives - in the true sense of the word - as "reactionaries" and enemies
of progress. Furthermore, it is not men who make history at all. Traditionalists
like Evola have learnt to recognise and accept the transcendental forces which
are never taken into consideration by rationalist historians: "only an obsolete
'historicism' can be so presumptuous to reduce everything to a linear
development." Indeed, both Marxism and Christianity adopt this method and the
cyclical nature of the universe is therefore ignored.
8. CHOICE OF TRADITIONS
Whilst the word "tradition" is used to describe Evola’s cosmological stance
against the modern world (and that of certain other Traditionalists like Guenon,
Nasr and Schuon), he also accepts that during certain key periods of his
existence man has often used a series of more commonly known traditions in order
to act as a unifying force. These forms of tradition relate to specific
"suggestions and catchphrases" which are used to revitalise or regenerate a
civilisation, although they can often assume a very "non-traditional" form.
Using the example of Italy, Evola points out that professional subversives from
the ranks of liberalism, communism and Freemasonry have distorted certain words
to ensure that they are equated with patriotism and national pride. So to
disagree with their objectives, therefore, is to invoke accusations of
"treachery" and "disloyalty." This makes it rather difficult for traditionalists
to adopt traditions of their own without incurring the systematically-engineered
confusion that sometimes accompanies them. Due to the fact that national
traditions are associated with the historical realities of a country’s
particular development, attempting to place such terminology in its true context
will inevitably lead to the adoption of the modern view that a country’s
tradition is based upon its whole history. This is why Evola recommends the
deconstruction of the mythology which surrounds national patriotism itself.
Italian pride consists in glorifying the Italian Commune, the Renaissance and
the Risorgimento. French patriotism is based upon the principles of the French
Revolution and the upheavals of 1848 which followed it. An atmosphere of
petty-nationalism and xenophobia also fuels the flames of justification for the
two destructive world wars which decimated Europe. Revolution and conflict is
based on the struggle between diametrically-opposed ideas or economies, not upon
racial or national antagonism. Evola suggests that Frederick I, for example,
fought against the Italians because he saw it as his imperial duty and not
because he simply happened to despise the Italian people or wished to subvert
them to his will. Ironically enough, Frederick was committed to the
re-establishment of Roman law and many Italians even fought alongside him. This
completely demolishes the idea that the aforementioned episodes in Italian
history were somehow "patriotic." The importance of struggle is characterised by
the idea and not by the perceived national loyalties of those involved. Think of
those Englishmen who fought in Hitler’s SS, for example, or the Muslims who
travelled from around the world in order to fight against the Americans in
modern-day Afghanistan. The "traditions" of those who are committed to the
obliteration of the ancient world, then, are highly questionable and - at the
very least - intrinsically selective.
By charting the progress of the Italian Renaissance through to its logical
conclusion, the so-called Enlightenment, Evola demonstrates that "in the same
sense in which Renaissance Italy becomes the mother of geniuses and artists, it
also becomes the forerunner of subversion. And just as the communes represent
the first rebellion against an alleged political despotism, the civilisation of
the Renaissance likewise represents the 'discovery of man' and of freedom of the
spirit in the creative individual, as well as the principle of the intellectual
emancipation that constitutes the 'basis of human progress'." The Risorgimento
is not dissimilar in that it represented a paradoxical alliance between Masonry
and patriotism: "The representatives of what at the time was still traditional
Europe regarded liberalism and Mazzinianism in the same way as today’s liberal
and democratic parties regard communism; the truth is that the subversive
intentions of the former were not much different from the latter’s, the main
difference being that liberalism and Mazzinianism employed the national and
patriotic myth at the early stages of the disintegrating action." The
Risorgimento, therefore, was a pseudo-tradition and at the very root of its
secret machinations lay the destruction of Tradition itself. The Carbonari was
not fighting "Austria" at all, it was engaged in a bitter attempt to topple the
Austrian dynasty and, thus, one of the final vestiges of Tradition in Europe.
But this is not to suggest that the House of Austria had an impeccable track
record. On the contrary, along with Russia and Germany its primary importance
lay in opposing the rise of liberalism and modernism. This is demonstrated by
the spirit of unity which permeates a letter sent to Wilhelm I by Bismarck in
1887: "The struggle today is not so much between Russians, Germans, Italians,
and French, but rather between revolution and monarchy. The Revolution has
conquered France, affected England, and is strong in Italy and in Spain. There
are only three emperors who can oppose it . . . An eventual future war will have
less the character of a war between governments, but more so that of a war of
the red flag against the elements of order and preservation." Beneath the
surface of all dynasties, churches and governments, of course, lie the denizens
of the single idea and the common struggle. A contemporary example on a far
smaller scale, perhaps, is the tactical support offered by Alexander Dugin’s
eurasianists to Vladimir Putin’s government. The main point of this chapter,
however, is the undermining of the popular fantasies which surround national
"traditions." Once we can stop focusing on the kind of nationalism served up by
the historicists, therefore, it will be easier to accept the validity of an
Idea.
9. MILITARY STYLE - ‘MILITARISM’ - WAR
Evola tells us that militarism is the enemy of democracy. This divergence of
beliefs came about as soon as economics had replaced things like Prussianism and
the Order of Teutonic Knights. Modern democracy, having originated in England,
has led to the rise of a society in which "the primary element is the bourgeois
type and the bourgeois life during times of peace; such a life is dominated by
the physical concern for safety, well-being, and material wealth, with the
cultivation of letters and the arts serving as a decorative frame." It is the
bourgeoisie who are presently in control of the State and, despite the absence
of a militaristic spirit in modern society, whenever an "international crisis"
looms on the horizon they have no qualms about using militaristic techniques in
order to advance their own interests. This is precisely the same form of
shameless hypocrisy which usually regards warfare as "something materialistic
and soulless." But Evola makes a distinction between the soldier and the
warrior. Indeed, whilst the former is a paid mercenary who sees warfare purely
as a means of self-enrichment, the latter is a specific aristocratic caste which
is altogether superior to the bourgeoisie. In the present atmosphere soldiers
are used to maintain "the peace," although in reality capitalism uses its
Establishment shock-troops to crush its opponents and maintain its own position
on the economic ladder. This means that the mercenary is employed by the
merchant class, rather than a warrior caste "with its own spirituality, values,
and ethics" playing an active role in the nature of the State. But Evola is not
suggesting that "the military must manage the affairs of the State . . . but
rather that virtues, disciplines, and feelings of a military type acquire
pre-eminence and a superior dignity over everything that is of a bourgeois
type." Furthermore, he does not believe in the control of one’s everyday affairs
by a military clique: "Love for hierarchy; relationships of obedience and
command; courage; feelings of honour and loyalty; specific forms of active
impersonality capable of producing anonymous sacrifice; frank and open
relationships from man to man, from one comrade to another, from leader to
follower - all these are the characteristic living values that are predominant
in the aforementioned view." Evola follows this up by explaining that external
warfare compliments that occurring within the self. This is the spiritual battle
which is waged by the individual in defiance of his own shortcomings, described
by Evola in Revolt Against the Modern World as the "big holy war" and the
"little holy war"; a jihad which is fought upon two fronts. This also has
important similarities to the Hermetic concept "as above, so below." War against
one’s enemies is a macrocosm of that taking place within the individual. For the
man who is born to be a warrior, this kind of asceticism becomes a way of life.
It is not a form of mindless violence in which death and destruction become the
central pillars of one’s very existence, it is "the calm, conscious, and planned
development of the inner being and a code of ethics; love of distance;
hierarchy; order; the faculty of subordinating the emotional and individualistic
element of one’s self to higher goals and principles, especially in the name of
honour and beauty." Herein lies the difference between the soldier and the
warrior.
The decline of the warrior ethos, according to Evola, is due to the fact that
democracies have diminished the importance of the political in favour of the
social. Previously, of course, Evola had referred to the Mannerbund or all-male
fraternity. Without this vital heroic element, the modern State has inevitably
become very inferior when compared to those of the past like Sparta. Western
society is now in the hands of the bourgeoisie and lacks that key ingredient of
atmospheric tension which acts as a safeguard against complacency and
deterioration. Evola is not implying that warfare and struggle are eternal
concepts, but simply that the individual must seek out the active life in
opposition to the pacifism and decay that comes with "peace." Therefore "the
nations in which such premises are sufficiently realised will be not only the
ones better prepared for war, but also the ones in which war will acquire a
higher meaning." By sheer contrast, the democracies now claim to be fighting
against war itself and use a force of their own in a purely defensive capacity.
The ranks of those who fight however, are filled not with the bourgeoisie but
with the paid mercenaries of the army and police. These soldiers do not fight
for an idea or a higher principle, but for "material well-being, economic
prosperity, a comfortable and conformist existence based on one’s work,
productivity, sports, movies, and sexuality." Modern warfare is also based upon
the war of the machine, rather than on the physical or spiritual combat of
warriors. This leads to a complex and technological manifestation of the heroic
ideal, rather than offering the prospective warrior a just cause for which to
fight. Evola attacks the manipulative propaganda and lies which have been used
throughout the process of modern warfare, something which leads to the
relativisation and systematic repackaging of the "cause" itself. But what does
Evola say about the attitude and motivation of the true warrior?: "A warrior
tradition and a pure military tradition do not have hatred as the basis of war.
The need to fight and even to exterminate another people may be acknowledged,
but this does not entail hatred, anger, animosity, and contempt for the enemy.
All these feelings, for a true soldier, are degrading: in order to fight he need
not be motivated by such lowly feelings, nor be energised by propaganda, smoky
rhetoric and lies." These elements have only come to the fore since the natural
warrior caste was replaced by an army of enlisted mercenaries drawn from the
ranks of society at large. Mussolini once wrote about the spirit of the trenches
in which class divisions were eradicated in the name of a common cause, but
Evola believes that today the masses have to be deceived before they will agree
to fight for the ruling class. Modern conflicts are irrational, too, in that
they are artificially constructed in order to justify the ever-increasing
expansion of capitalism. The wars of the past were quite different, in that they
had a sovereign quality as the necessary determining force for the deployment of
what Evola describes as "[c]learly defined goals." Perhaps the antithesis of the
just war is the very irrationalism which lies at the core of the ultimate form
of modern combat we know today as nuclear war.
10. TRADITION - CATHOLICISM - GHIBELLINISM
Catholicism is perceived by many to be the pinnacle of Tradition. Evola accepts
that it contains many Traditional aspects, but goes on to say that in order to
be seen as a legitimate form of authority and sovereignty it must become fully
integrated within the sphere of Tradition itself. Catholicism alone is
inadequate and represents only a minimal current of a far wider Tradition. Here,
Evola opts to discuss the implications of this fact in both a political and
contemporary context, despite using examples from the past.
Religion falls into various categories and cannot match the supreme and unitary
nature of Tradition. In fact religion is simply an exoteric version of a deeper,
esoteric undercurrent. Christianity, for example, panders to the masses, whilst
Tradition is reserved for the spiritual elite: "In effect, nobody with a higher
education can really believe in the axiom 'There is no salvation outside the
Church' (nulla salus extra ecclesiam), meaning the great civilisations that have
preceded Christianity (the still-existing millennia-old non-European traditions,
such as Buddhism and Hinduism, and even relatively recent ones such as Islam)
have not known the supernatural or the sacred, but only distorted images and
obscure 'prefigurations' and that they amount to mere 'paganism', polytheism,
and 'natural mysticism'." This statement would undoubtedly arouse in the more
"traditional" Catholic a feeling of revulsion and anger, perhaps even
accusations of "ecumenicalism." However, Evola is not advocating the unification
of all religions, but the acceptance that there is a common Tradition which lies
in each. He goes on to say that for a Catholic "to persist in the sectarian and
dogmatic exclusivism about this matter would amount to being in the same
predicament of one who wished to defend the views of physics and astronomy found
in the Old Testament, which have been made obsolete by the current state of
knowledge on these matters." Catholicism, then, is only "traditional" in the
sense that certain aspects tend to accord with Tradition itself. The same can be
said of Islam or Judaism.
We now turn our attention to the centuries-old debate concerning Catholicism and
Ghibellinism. The Ghibellines (like their Guelph rivals) were a political force
in northern and central Italy between the twelfth and fifteenth centuries. These
opposing groups began in Germany as partisans in a struggle for the throne of
the Holy Roman Empire between two dynastic houses: the Welfs on the one hand
(who were dukes of Saxony and Bavaria), and the Hohenstaufens on the other (who
were rulers of Swabia). During the thirteenth century the Welf leader, Otto of
Brunswick, was involved in a fratricidal struggle for the imperial crown against
Frederick II of Hohenstaufen, and the all-German battle soon moved south to
Italy. The name Guelph is derived from Welf, whilst Ghibelline is a corruption
of Waiblingen, an area of land belonging to the emperors of Hohenstaufen.
According to the Ghibelline view of the world, as elucidated by Evola, "the
Empire was an institution of supernatural origin and character, like the Church.
It had its own sacred nature, just as, during the Middle Ages, the dignity of
the kings themselves had an almost priestly nature (kingship being established
through a rite that differed only in minor detail from Episcopal ordination). On
this basis, the Ghibelline emperors - who were the representatives of a
universal and supranational idea, embodying a lex animata in terris (a living
law on earth) - opposed the hegemonic claims of the clergy and claimed to have
only God above themselves." The struggle between the Ghibellines and the clergy
is usually discussed in political terms, but was actually a form of spiritual
combat waged at the very highest level. Humanity, during the medieval period,
was caught between two distinct paths: action and contemplation. Evola tells us
that this relates to the Empire and the Church respectively: "Ghibellinism more
or less claimed that through the view of earthly life as discipline, militia,
and service, the individual can be led beyond himself and reach the supernatural
culmination of human personality through action and under the aegis of the
Empire. This was related to the character of a non-naturalistic but
'providential' institution acknowledged in the Empire; knighthood and the great
knightly Orders stood in relation to the empire in the same way in which the
clergy and the ascetic Orders stood in relation to the Church." This sounds like
an analogy of the political soldier, but Evola is keen to demonstrate that such
Orders "were based on an idea that was less political than ethical-spiritual,
and partially even ascetic, according to an asceticism that was not cloistered
and contemplative, but rather of a warrior type. In this last regard, the most
typical example was constituted by the Order of Knights Templar, and in part by
the Order of the Teutonic Knights." This subject is discussed at length in
Evola’s Revolt Against The Modern World, during which the author explained how
the Emperor waged a calculated holy war against the pro-Guelphist clergy and how
even the Crusades became an active consolidation of the imperial idea; just as
the Empire had been in times of peace. The Ghibellines, he said, were engaged in
an occult struggle "against papal Rome that was waged by Rome itself" (p.300).
Indeed, the head of the Church is known as pontifex maximus; a title which is
taken directly from the leaders of early Rome. Indeed, according to Evola the
Emperor Julian opposed Christianity due to its "upholding of an anarchical
doctrine; with the excuse of paying homage to God alone, they refused to give
him homage in the person of those who, as legitimate leaders of men, were his
representatives on earth and drew from him the principle of their power. This,
according to Celsus, was an example of impiety."
Evola’s whole point is that in ancient times the religious clergy were
answerable to the Emperor himself; not simply from a political perspective, but
also in a theological capacity: "It was only during the Middle Ages that the
priest nourished the ambition, not of being king, but of being the one to whom
kings are subject. At that time, Ghibellinism arose as a reaction, and the
rivalry was rekindled, the new reference point now being the authority and the
right reclaimed by the Holy Roman Empire." But this does not presuppose that
religion must be at the service of the State like those of "a Masonic,
anti-clerical character," on the contrary, this leads to totalitarianism and the
Concordats which were conveniently arranged in both Nazi Germany and Fascist
Italy. The separation of the spiritual and political spheres is epitomised by
the Christian maxim "render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is
God’s," something which was quite unknown in ancient times. Needless to say,
throughout history the Catholic Church has played a very large role in secular
affairs by using politics as a mere wing of the religious establishment.
Although in the later Middle Ages the Church did recognise the divine right of
kings, Evola considers these "atheistic" monarchs to have been at the forefront
of the liberal ideas which later found expression in the French Revolution of
1789. Once the State had vacated the domain of the spirit and become secular,
however, it turned against the Church. But this was different to the rebellion
of the Ghibellines, because this current "did not pursue the subjection of
spiritual authority to temporal powers, but rather upheld, vis-а-vis the
exclusivist claim of the Church, a value and a right for the State, different
from those that are proper to an organisation with a merely human and material
character." However, lest one wrongly imagine that Evola somehow wishes to
revive the Ghibelline struggle against the Church, the author carefully points
out that the key point is to resist the secular State in all its forms. Only in
this way can politics be ascribed to a higher level.
Catholicism today is in great decline. Not least because it is always forced to
compromise with the prevailing ideologies among which it finds itself.
Liberalism is gradually eroding the last vestiges of Catholic tradition in the
same way that it is eating away at the edifice of Tradition in general. The
likes of the Protestant Reformation and Vatican II have taken their toll, and we
now see modernist popes tolerating bastardised currents like Liberation
Theology, supporting the burgeoning New World Order and kneeling before the
might of International Zionism. Evola tells us that "the decline of the modern
Church is undeniable because she gives to social and moral concerns a greater
weight that what pertains to the supernatural life, to asceticism, and to
contemplation, which are essential reference points of religiosity." It is
certainly not fulfilling any kind of meaningful role, either: "For all practical
purposes, the main concerns of Catholicism today seem to turn it into a petty
bourgeois moralism that shuns sexuality and upholds virtue, or an inadequate
paternalistic welfare system. In these times of crisis and emerging brutal
forces, the Christian faith should devote itself to very different tasks." In
the medieval period the Church possessed a more traditional character, but only
due to the fact that it had appropriated so many Classical elements and, by way
of Aristotle, lashed them firmly to the theological mast being constructed by
Thomas Aquinas during the thirteenth century. Catholicism, however, will never
reconcile itself with the problem of how to deal with politics and the State
because it relies upon separation and dualism. Tradition, on the other hand, is
integralist and unitary.
Evola notes that certain individuals and groups have sought to incorporate the
more traditional aspects of Catholicism within the broader and far more
encompassing sphere of Tradition itself. Evola’s French philosophical
counterpart, Rene Guenon, for example. Catholics, however, are far too dogmatic
and would merely seek to make Tradition "conform" to their own spiritual
weltanschauung. This, says Evola, is "placing the universal at the service of
the particular." Furthermore, of course, the anti-modernists who are organised
in groups such as The Society of St. Pius X and the Sedavacantist fraternity do
not speak with the full weight and authority of the Church. They are, therefore,
powerless because "the direction of the Church is a descending and
anti-traditional one, consisting of modernisation and coming to terms with the
modern world, democracy, socialism, progressivism, and everything else.
Therefore, these individuals are not authorised to speak in the name of
Catholicism, which ignores them, and should not try to attribute to Catholicism
a dignity the latter spurns." Evola suggests that because the Church is so
inadequate, it should be abandoned and left to its ultimate doom. He concludes
by reiterating the fact that a State which does not have a spiritual dimension
is not a State at all. The only way forward, he argues, is to "begin from a pure
idea, without the basis of a proximate historical reference" and await the
actualisation of the Traditional current.
11. REALISM - COMMUNISM - ANTI-BOURGEOISIE
Intellectuals are often attracted to communism because it claims to be
anti-bourgeois, despite communism itself claiming to despise the intellectual
for his bourgeois origins. According to Evola, however, this is misleading and
such people are deluding themselves. Evola also accepts that the word
"bourgeois" relates to far more than economics; something representing a
specific cultural niche in which everything is "empty, decadent, and corrupt."
The role of the traditionalist must be to overcome these materialist concepts.
Indeed, the perennial attraction of communism indicates that it would be a big
mistake to combat Marxist values with a "bourgeois mentality and spirit, with
its conformism, psychological and romantic appendices, moralism, and concerns
for a petty, safe existence in which a fundamental materialism finds its
compensation in sentimentality and the rhetoric of the great humanitarian and
democratic worlds - all this has only an artificial, peripheral, and precarious
life." This is why conservatism has always been so ineffective, and why the
adoption of a true anti-bourgeois spirit is so essential in the ongoing
replenishment of Tradition. For Evola, the solution lies in realism.
In its efforts to overcome the unreality of bourgeois society, Marxism simply
relegates the individual to an even lower level. This results in the systematic
spawning of homo economicus, a process in which "we go toward what is below
rather than above the person." It represents a collective reduction of the human
type, rather than a raising of the individual consciousness. So how does Evola’s
realism differ from the kind of "neo-realism" advocated by left-wing
philosophers such as Sartre? The latter, of course, brings human existence into
line with transient concepts such as psychoanalysis. This is achieved by
creating a kind of psycho-collectivisation, whereby man’s various personality
traits are said to originate from below. Evola, on the other hand, accepts "that
existence acquires a meaning only when it is inspired by something beyond
itself." Therefore the political, economic and psychological aspects of Marxism
are identical and adhere to a decidedly false sense of "realism."
Given the confusion which has been generated by the Marxists and their
misleading interpretation of "realism," perhaps another solution is needed to
counteract the unreality of the bourgeoisie; one which seeks to go higher,
rather than lower? Evola explains: "It is possible to keep a distance from
everything that has only a human and especially subjectivist character; to feel
contempt for bourgeois conformism and its petty selfishness and moralism; to
embody the style of an impersonal activity; to prefer what is essential and real
in a higher sense, free from the trappings of sentimentalism and from
pseudo-intellectual super-structures - and yet all this must be done by
remaining upright, feeling the presence in life of that which leads beyond life,
drawing from it precise norms of behaviour and action." This means that a new
breed of individuals must bear the task of combining strong anti-Marxism with a
committed opposition to bourgeois society: "Lenin himself said that a
proletarian, left to himself, tends to become a bourgeois." It is therefore not
necessary to become a communist in order to reject the trappings of conformity
and sterility, although the shortcomings of Fascism and its well-documented
reliance upon the bourgeoisie suggests that it, too, is incapable of providing
real solutions to the problem. Evola also notes that "[e]ven those who call
themselves monarchists can only conceive of a bourgeois king."
I have already discussed how communists harbour an ironic grudge towards the
intellectual, but Evola demonstrates that the only answer to the
intellectual/anti-intellectual debate is to put forward a third option: the
Weltanschauung, or worldview. This is "based not on books, but on an inner form
and a sensibility endowed with an innate, rather than acquired, character." In
other words, a mentality which does not remain fixed in the mind or submerged in
theories, but realised in a more practical sense through the deployment of the
will. Thought alone is incapable of taking on a life of its own or significantly
changing anything. Here we return to the traditional idea of an organic
civilisation which is expressed not by culture, but through a deeper
understanding of eternal values. Thus, intellectualism and culture are merely
used to express the more fundamental worldview, not designed to evolve into
determining characteristics of humanity in their own right: "this is sheer
illusion: never before as in modern times was there such a number of men who are
spiritually formless, and thus open to any suggestion and ideological
intoxication, so as to become dominated by psychic currents (without being aware
of it in the least) and of manipulations belonging to the intellectual,
political, and social climate in which they live." The worldview of which Evola
speaks, of course, is Tradition. This represents the basic impetus which must
beat firmly within the heart of all those who wish to bring to an end the
contaminating era of the bourgeoisie.
12. ECONOMY & POLITICS - CORPORATIONS - UNITY OF WORK
In Chapter 6, Evola attacked mankind’s dependence upon the economy and suggested
that change must come from within. In this chapter, the author presents an
alternative economic plan by which the forces of anti-Tradition can be kept at
bay. Recalling the fact that the State represents "an idea and a power," Evola
has little hesitation in rendering it superior to the economic sphere. This is
because he feels that the State is endowed with an overriding spiritual
perspective and that it is there to both guide and judge all economic concepts,
although this does cause one to wonder whether such power and authority can be
expressed in an non-statist context. Especially in light of the seemingly
irredeemable nature of the world’s states today and the fact that no one State
can last forever.
Evola’s solution to the economic crisis - as well as the fact that it needs to
be brought in line with Tradition - is a form of corporativism "based on the
principles of competence, qualification, and natural hierarchy, with the overall
system characterised by a style of active impersonality, selflessness, and
dignity." This opinion has been formed by the author’s self-confessed admiration
for the craft guilds of the Middle Ages and, before them, the Roman system of
proto-corporativism. He rightly points out that the medieval artisan had a great
love for his work, unlike the contemporary wage-slave who labours under great
strain and duress. Evola goes into this concept in Revolt Against The Modern
World, too, contesting that work only becomes slavery once it is viewed as a
laborious task. It is also a fact that one’s adherence to a common objective
gives even the most seemingly ordinary task a higher degree of significance:
"The commitment of the workers was matched by the master of the art’s
competence, care, and knowledge; by their effort to strengthen and to raise the
quality of the overall corporate unit; and by their protecting and upholding the
code of honour of their corporation." Issues such as capitalist exploitation
were unheard of, at least until the advent of the Industrial Revolution.
Corporativism is usually regarded as a Fascist objective, but Evola argues that
it cannot work under such a system because Fascism itself continues to tolerate
the trade unions. This means that the class system is still being perpetuated
and thus the unitary whole is threatened with division. After all, what use are
trade unions if everyone is pulling in the same direction? The workers’
co-operative is another example of just how redundant trade unionism has become.
Evola also believes that Fascism and Marxism fail to "reconstitute" the unifying
concept of work itself, seeking to replace class division with a series of
bureaucratic ministries. German National-Socialism, however, was more successful
than Italian Fascism because "it understood that what mattered most was to
achieve that organic solidarity of entrepreneurs and workers within the
companies, promoting a down-sizing that reflected to a certain degree the spirit
of traditional corporativism." Evola is praising the fact that German bosses
took a more hands-on approach to the question of leadership, and it is a fact
that the German civil service, for example, remained exactly the same after
Hitler’s ascension to the throne of German politics. So it was a change of
attitude, rather than a profound economic change of any kind. But I feel that
Evola’s enthusiasm is slightly misplaced, particularly as Hitler’s economic
drive was geared towards putting the country on a total war footing and that the
NSDAP itself had been financed by German Big Business.
So what is necessary for this proposed shift in attitude? Evola advocates "the
deproletarianisation of the worker and, on the other hand, the elimination of
the worst type of capitalist, who is a parasitical recipient of profits and
dividends and who remains extraneous to the productive process." Evola therefore
accepts that such despicable creatures have become easy targets for communist
agitators, and that capitalism itself must be vigorously opposed by those who
wish to transcend both systems. Evola believes that capitalists should become
more involved with their businesses, rather than sitting at home counting their
shekels and raking in the profits. But this will not alter the fact that they
will continue to own the means of production, so perhaps Evola is being more
than a little optimistic when it comes to "loyal workers who are free from trade
union control and are proud to belong to his company."
We are then introduced to what Evola believes to be the ideal relationship
between the State and the economy. Again, modern conditions and the servile
nature of industrial capitalism are identified as being the main obstacles to a
more healthy attitude towards work. He feels that the real problem lies in the
way an employee is "inclined to regard his work as mere necessity and his
performance as a product sold to a third party in exchange for the highest
possible remuneration." Work, he argues, must cease to be monotonous, repetitive
and dull. Furthermore, workers must have "the right of co-direction,
co-management, and co-determination" that is presently lacking in the majority
of occupations. These sentiments appear to echo the co-operative ideas of Robert
Owen and the Rochdale Pioneers, which took shape during the nineteenth century.
In other words, workers must have a real stake in the business concerned, rather
than be considered as a mere cog in the capitalist machine: "This would be the
best way to ‘integrate’ the individual worker into his company, motivate him and
raise him above his most immediate interest as a mere rootless individual. In
this way we could reproduce in a company’s life the type of organic belonging
that was proper to the ancient corporative formations." This microcosmic
representation of the State within the field of economics all sounds very well,
although one must remember that any economic idea that plans to attach itself to
the present economic system must inevitably rise and fall in accordance with the
very system itself. The West is dying. This means, therefore, that all solutions
which advocate forms of participation within the current system - including
distributist guilds and workers’ co-operatives - merely represent a temporary
postponement of the inevitable crash. The real solution lies on the periphery.
Evola criticises the politicisation of the workplace by trade unionists, a
process which - he believes - only serves to divide, confuse and worsen the lot
of the average worker. This activity, he contends, is used as a springboard from
which to attack the State. I believe that Evola is right to condemn Marxist
interference, but wrong to suppose that the industrial sphere can ever be
reformed. In the words of Nietzsche: "That which is falling must also be
pushed." Indeed, the vast majority of our fatcat executives are hardly likely to
admit to their shortcomings and start expressing the type of leadership and
initiative which Evola believes will transform the very nature of the economy. I
believe that Evola is being just as idealistic as the Fascists and the Marxists.
The decline of the West is inevitable, and, in terms of having run its
civilisational course, will represent the completion of the Kali Yuga and thus
the very end of the macrocosmic cycle.
But the author does accept that modern companies cannot be truly autonomous
within the present economic climate, because "[n]o matter how powerful and
wide-ranging they are, these companies must deal with forces and monopolies that
control to a large degree the fundamental elements of the productive process."
Evola believes that certain restraints have to be placed upon the ruthlessly
competitive sharks of international capitalism, but his solution to the problem
merely involves increasing the power and authority of the State. He also
believes that such a State can be created within a modern context, but thirty
years after Evola’s death this seems very unlikely. He also suggests that
capitalists should be "ostracised" by the State, but surely this is impossible
given that the State itself is little more than an elaborate front for the
interests of Big Business and international finance? Evola’s fear of leftist
subversion means that he is forced to accept a kind of pallid reformism or - in
his words - a "revolution from above" (a concept not dissimilar to the
"revolution of the centre" proposed by French fascists and elements of the
Nouvelle Droit), when in reality he should be supporting the emergence of new
centres of Tradition on the periphery. After all, as the Romanian author Mircea
Eliade demonstrated in The Myth of the Eternal Return (Princeton, 1991) the
founding of new symbolic centres is perfectly in tune with Tradition.
The feudal system is cited as a worthy example of economic autonomy and unitary
collaboration between the various complimentary sections of medieval society,
although he does suggest that it needs updating so that it can be applied in a
modern setting. The overriding atmosphere of defensive perpetuity and the bonds
of loyalty which characterised the feudal period are said by Evola to have
strengthened both responsibility and decentralisation. Despite the intermittent
shortcomings of feudalism, it is pretty hard to deny the fact that it had many
worthy attributes. On the other hand, however, Evola still fails to prove that
anything remotely similar can be re-established today. At least at the centre
and within the current economic system. Likewise, Evola believes that the
traditional caste structure can also be reapplied to the modern State: "The
ultimate goal of the corporative idea, understood in this fashion, is to
effectively elevate the lower activities concerned with production and material
concerns to the plane that in a qualitative hierarchy comes immediately after
the economic one in an ascending direction; in the system of ancient or
functional castes, this plane was that of the warrior caste, which ranked higher
than the merchant caste and the workers’ caste." Up until very recently, the
caste system was still in operation throughout India (and still prevails in the
more rural areas of the North), but modern government legislation has resulted
in the lower castes (Untouchables) receiving positive discrimination and other
liberal reforms designed to create the kind of "egalitarianism" that we are used
to seeing in the West. The caste system is a highly complex and functional
system and has been around for many thousands of years, but I doubt whether it
can be applied to a modern society. Only by establishing centres on the
periphery can traditional methods be realised in the modern world. Evola’s
comments about caste and hierarchy are extremely valid, but the process of
degeneration can never be reversed at the centre.
The author also suggests that a Corporate House of Representatives be created.
Not something which is managed in a bureaucratic manner like that administered
previously by Italian Fascism, but a system in which everything finds its true
level in relation to everything else. At the same time, it "should not have the
traits of a political assembly. It should merely constitute the Lower House;
political concerns would be dealt with in an Upper House, ranked above the
former." Again, Evola remains strongly opposed to political interference within
the sphere of socio-economic activity. But even his "Lower House" sounds rather
bureaucratic once it is compared to a basic workers’ co-operative, although the
objective here is obviously to unite all such concerns into a single, unitary
whole. Modern-day Libya has a similar arrangement in that its professional,
educational and various other categories are united within a series of
congresses. Not that Evola would agree, of course, with the fact that real power
and authority in Libya’s "state of the masses" emanates from below, rather than
from above.
13. OCCULT WAR - WEAPONS OF THE OCCULT WAR
And now we come to one of the most interesting chapters of the book, in which
Evola questions whether the various areas of human existence have been affected
by higher forces. In other words, by those of the supernatural or occult
dimension. The decline of the West, in particular, is said to be a direct result
of the hidden forces at work. Evola explains: "The occult war is a battle that
is waged imperceptibly by the forces of global subversion, with means and in
circumstances ignored by current historiography. The notion of occult war
belongs to a three-dimensional view of history: this view does not regard as
essential the two superficial dimensions of time and space (which include
causes, facts, and visible leaders) but rather emphasises the dimension of
depth, or the ‘subterranean’ dimension in which forces and influences act in a
decisive manner, and which, more often than not, cannot be reduced to what is
merely human, whether at an individual or a collective level." This seems clear
enough. Indeed, the current of which Evola speaks transcends the governmental
domain and concerns the forces which lie far beyond the purely exoteric plane.
By "subterranean," Evola is alluding to the fact that such activity takes place
not within the human subconscious, but as part of a deliberate plan which has
been meticulously formed by capable and intelligent agents of subversion. But
this third dimension should not be seen as some kind of ridiculous or convenient
fantasy designed to account for the erosion of Tradition, it is a concept which
is fully steeped in reality. Catholics regard the decline of traditional values
and the onset of liberalism and moral decline as part of a divinely orchestrated
process, although Evola believes that such a view need not rely on abstract
metaphysics or theology. He cites the Classical idea in which the forces of the
cosmos are waged against the forces of chaos: "To the former corresponds
everything that is form, order, law, spiritual hierarchy, and tradition in the
highest sense of the word; to the latter correspond every influence that
disintegrates, subverts, degrades, and promotes the predominance of the inferior
over the superior, matter over spirit, quantity over quality."
History undoubtedly has a more secretive side. Indeed, at times it becomes
impossible to explain certain aspects in terms of their possessing a basic or
fundamental causality. Evola is careful to warn against inventing ridiculous or
fantastical notions to account for this more covert analysis of history: "The
fact that those who have ventured in this direction have not restrained their
wild imaginations has discredited what could have been a science, the results of
which can hardly be overestimated. This too meets the expectations of the hidden
enemy." Evola then mentions Disraeli’s well-known nineteenth-century admission,
concerning the unseen forces that govern the world and create the necessary
conditions for their own pernicious advancement. This brings us on to one of the
most famous - or infamous - documents of all time, The Protocols of The Learned
Elders of Zion, in which it is alleged that a secret Jewish cabal is intent on
world domination. Evola does not defend its authenticity, however, he agrees
with Rene Guenon that secret organisations of this nature are not likely to
write everything down in great detail and that - similar to the conclusions
expressed in Professor Cohn’s Warrant For Genocide - it was probably a Tsarist
police conspiracy. But he does go on to say that "the only important and
essential point is the following: this writing is part of a group of texts that
in various ways (more or less fantastic and at times even fictional) have
expressed the feeling that the disorder of recent times is not accidental, since
it corresponds to a plan, the phases and fundamental instruments of which are
accurately described in the Protocols." But what of the contention that the
individuals behind the conspiracy are apparently Jews: "One of the means
employed by the occult forces to protect themselves consists of directing their
opponents’ attention towards those who are only partially responsible for
certain upheavals, thus concealing the rest of the story, namely a wide sequence
of causes."
Evola also discounts the theory that the conspiracy is being waged by agents of
the Judaic religion, particularly as the occult forces themselves inspired the
Renaissance, Darwinism and other rationalist developments which fly directly in
the face of such principles. The fact that Israeli troops can often be seen
battling in the streets of Jerusalem with fanatical Zionist rabbis also
demonstrates that the hidden powers cannot possibly be genuinely connected to
Judaism. The Protocols also allege that Judaism is working in close allegiance
with Freemasonry, although Evola only accepts that the foundation of the Grand
Lodge of London in 1717 brought it into line with the grand plan of subversion.
This is correct. Masons on the European mainland differ significantly from their
English cousins and many associated with the Grand Orient look upon Egypt as
being the traditional fount of ancient knowledge and wisdom, rather than to
specifically Jewish sources. This is reflected in the absence of the Memphis-Mithraim
rite from the practices of the Grand Lodge. But at the same time, however,
Judaeo-Masonry has often been used as a vehicle for global subversion and Evola
compares this process with the regression of the caste system. When the rot
gradually sets in at the very top, it tends to infect the whole body and thus
sets off a new chain of events. Furthermore, "[r]egardless of the role played by
Jews and Masonry in the modern subversion, it is necessary to recognise clearly
the real historical context of their influence, as well as the limit beyond
which the occult war is destined to develop by employing forces that not only
are no longer those of Judaism and of Masonry, but that could even totally turn
against them."
Using some of Rene Guenon’s ideas, Evola now attempts to examine some of the
methods which are used by the global subversives. Firstly, "scientific
suggestion" is used in order to explain history purely in terms of key events
being influenced by political, social or economic factors. Secondly, whenever
the first method becomes impossible the hidden forces decide to use the "tactic
of replacement" instead. This involves the dissemination of certain
philosophical ideas which can be used as a diversion for those events which defy
a positivist explanation. It functions as a means of preventing the
intellectuals from understanding the true nature of what is really going on in
the world. This leads us towards the third strategic category: the "tactic of
counterfeits." This latter stage is essentially designed to explain away those
factors of the conspiracy which unavoidably find their way into the mainstream
and cause a backlash. This development, according to Evola, can often take the
form of a Traditional reaction to the degeneration of society, although the
occult powers then use terms such as "anachronism," "anti-history," "immobilism"
and "regression" in order to counteract this process and thus prevent their
enemies from winning popular support.
The fourth ploy is the "tactic of inversion," in which the enemy concentrates
its efforts on attacking the spiritual realm: "After limiting the influence that
could be exercised in this regard by Christianity, through the spread of
materialism and scientism, the forces of global subversion have endeavoured to
conveniently divert any tendency towards the supernatural arising outside the
dominant religion and the limitation of its dogmas." This means that the
individual is encouraged to lose him or herself in shallow distractions such as
psychology and spiritualism, rather than try to advance in a truly superior and
supernatural way. Evola criticises the West’s distorted analysis of Eastern
mysticism, and the fact that the traditional wisdom of the Orient has often been
repackaged within Masonry or Theosophy and forcibly reconciled with Western
values. And, due to this process of dilution, it has been easily torn to shreds
by the secret denizens of the conspiracy and thus laughably rejected as pure
superstition. Another method is the "tactic of ricochet," through which those
sympathetic to Tradition are falsely assured that by attacking the remaining
traditionalist structures they are somehow advancing their own cause: "Those who
do not realise what is going on and who, because of material interests, attack
Tradition in like-minded people sooner or later must expect to see Tradition
attacked in themselves, by ricochet." Modern States, of course, use infiltration
in order to sow the seeds of ideological discord. This can lead to personality
clashes, greed and self-advancement at the expense of the very Idea itself.
The sixth category is the "scapegoat tactic," which results in the targeting of
individuals or groups which usually turn out to be mostly blameless. The
Protocols, for example, may seem fairly accurate when it comes to identifying
the Masons and the Jews as the source of all our problems, but to scapegoat
people to this extent is misleading and unrealistic. The next step - the "tactic
of dilution" - relates t