By Nigel Jackson
Published: 2004-05-01
In 1950, Julius Evola wrote Orientations, a pamphlet for a number of his young
political associates, intended as a compendium that would set down the most
important core values of a traditional rightist group. This pamphlet then led
to the writing of Evola’s main political book, Men Among the Ruins (1953).
Dr.
H. T. Hansen, in his 100-page introduction to this first English translation of
Evola’s work, explains that Men
Among the Ruins was written in the hope of influencing Italian
politics of the time, but was not successful in that regard. Despite that, it
was reprinted several times in Italy and was Evola’s most commercially
successful book.
Hansen’s
claim that „it probably was and has remained the only ‘practical’ handbook for
a truly traditional right wing“ may be an excessive claim. It is as much
theoretical as practical; and an abundance of books of a traditional
conservative bent have appeared in the same period, such as Russell Kirk’s The Conservative Mind[1] and Eric Voegelin’s The
New Science of Politics.[2]
Hansen
states that Evola himself felt that Men
Among the Ruins was a failure. At much the same time he also wrote
a companion book, Riding the
Tiger, in which he preached a gloomy doctrine of apoliteia (withdrawal from
active politics). „Today there is no idea, no object, and no goal that is worth
sacrificing one’s own true interest for,“ he declared.
Hansen,
who rarely intrudes his own views in his brilliantly researched analysis of
Evola’s life and intellectual career, finally lets loose a severe judgment
about the impracticality of Men
Among the Ruins:
„Evola’s
Traditionalism cannot be used by modern political movements.“
According
to Hansen, Evola’s teachings „are too aristocratic, too demanding, and too much
directed against progress and modernity.“ In the 1930’s and early 1940’s Evola
strove in vain to influence Italian Fascism and German National Socialism,
which provided more „fertile ground“ than the postwar era.
„Traditionalists
must hold on to ideas and principles, not institutions,“ Hansen adds. He
suggests that Evola would probably have held that his Traditional doctrines
should serve as centers of
intelligence, around which groups might slowly form which in the
future might be nuclei in a providential transformation of society.
In
the 20th century Australian right-wing political movements have
enjoyed little success and sometimes proved to be fiascoes. Senator George
Hannan’s 1970’s National Liberal Party[3] never got off the
ground. More recently, Graham Campbell’s Australia First[4]
has sunk amidst a cruel media silence, while Pauline Hanson’s One Nation,[5] although enjoying a degree of media puffing and some
electoral successes, never lost the unhappy image of a slightly tawdry
political circus. Perhaps a study of Men
Among the Ruins might help the Australian Right achieve something
more fruitful in the future. This article is offered as a contribution to that
end.
First
we will look briefly at Evola’s life and the kind of person he was. Next we
will survey his intellectual career, relying on Hansen’s substantial and
succinct introduction. Finally we will study the 175-page text of Men Among the Ruins itself
and consider how it might be practically applicable in the Australian political
arena today.
Evola the Man
Baron
Julius Evola was born into a family of the Sicilian gentry on 19th
May 1898, about a year and a half after Prince Giuseppe di Lampedusa, author of
the plangent historical novel The
Leopard,[6] whose theme is the decay of the
Sicilian aristocratic class.
He
received a strict Catholic upbringing which he soon discarded. „His was not the
spirituality of piety and mysticism,“ comments Joscelyn Godwin in a brief
foreword, „but the aspiration to what he understood to be the highest calling
of man: the identity of Self and Absolute.“
Evola
also developed „an unconditional and militant antipathy toward everything
bourgeois,“ Hansen tells us:
„The
fact that he never married, never wanted children, never had a middle-class
job, and broke off his engineering studies before the last exam in spite of his
excellent record (so he would not be a Doctor or Professor) can be traced back
to this sentiment.“
There
was plainly an austerity in Evola’s make-up. It could be seen in his personal
style of impeccable suits and monocle (reminiscent of the defiant wearing of
dinner suit and bow tie in the Soviet Union amidst the „Red terror“ by another
of his contemporaries, the novelist Mikhail Bulgakov). It can equally be noted
in his extraordinary reticence about his upbringing and personal life, which
are hardly mentioned even in his autobiography, and in his attitude to personal
property (all his life he owned very little and even habitually gave away his
books and paintings). It would be tempting to view him as a partly repressed
personality with an unduly negative attitude to femininity; but there is evidence
against this. For example, we learn from Hansen that, after the fall of Rome to
the Allies in 1943, his mother kept their secret service operatives at bay
while he made his escape. He evidently enjoyed good relations with her, despite
having renounced Catholicism in his teens. Evola also wrote a whole book on Eros and the Mysteries of Love.
Moreover, the second last chapter of Men
Among the Ruins (The Problem of Births) shows that he did not have a puritanical
attitude towards sexuality.
Evola
seems to have been a knightly man with leanings towards the brahminic
lifestyle. On March 12, 1945, he was seriously wounded during an air strike on
Vienna and his spinal cord was damaged. He remained paralyzed from the waist
down for the rest of his life. This disability was not allowed to curtail his
dedication to Tradition and his prodigious literary career. He wrote
twenty-five books (Men Among
the Ruins being the ninth to appear in English), around three
hundred long essays and over a thousand newspaper and magazine articles. He
translated into Italian many notable works including Oswald Spengler’s Decline and Fall of the West,[7] the Taoist classic, the Tao
Te Ching,[8] and René Guénon’s The Crisis of the Modern World.[9]
Evola
also introduced many notable European writers to the Italian public, including
Gabriel Marcel, Ernst Jünger and Gustav Meyrink. Close personal friends from
youth onwards included comparative religion authority Mircea Eliade and
Tibetologist Giuseppe Tucci. After spending a year and a half in hospital in
Austria, Evola returned to Rome and thenceforth rarely left his apartment. He
was arrested in 1951 on the preposterous charge of „glorification of Fascism,“
detained for six months, proved innocent and acquitted. His famous Autodifesa (self-defence
testimony) is included as an appendix in Men
Among the Ruins.
He
chose to die standing upright (as much as he could), since he wished to emulate
forebears like Roland of France. (It will be recalled that Zorba the Greek died
in the same fashion in Nikos Kazantzakis’s novel.[10])
Plainly there was much that was heroic in Evola’s life; but was there also
something of the quixotic?
Intellectual Career
Hansen
points out that for Evola, from his mid-twenties onwards, the centre of all
things was not man but rather the Transcendent, the eternal „One without a
second.“ Evola was a Traditionalist in the sense made famous by Guénon, father
of the „Perennialist“ school.[11] Everything had to be
appraised from the standpoint of the principles which form the foundation of
our world and remain forever the same – that is to say, Tradition.
Evola’s
awareness of the vertical
dimension of human existence was based on personal experience which
gave him keys to the mysteries of self-transformation. As Guido Stucco noted in
his translator’s preface to Evola’s masterwork, Revolt Against the Modern World (1995), Evola
was not first and foremost a right-wing, reactionary political thinker, but an
esoterist. His socio-political views sprang from his religious and metaphysical
convictions. Evola upheld the primacy of Being (as did Martin Heidegger). For
him there was an immortal nature as well as a mortal nature, a superior world
of being as well
as an inferior world of becoming.
Evola
considered human beings to be fundamentally and inherently unequal, so that
they do not have and should not have, nor should they enjoy, the same dignity
and rights. Therefore a sociopolitical hierarchy is best suited to express the
differentiation between them.
Evola
tended to reject dialogue with the apostles of modernity as a waste of time. He
favored self-questioning and the cultivation of one’s soul. Stucco viewed Evola’s
whole oeuvre as
a quest for, and as an exposition of, the means employed in Western and Eastern
traditions to accomplish that noble task.
The titles of Evola’s other
books available in English, but not yet mentioned, support this claim: The Doctrine of Awakening (analyzing
Buddhism), The Yoga of Power
(investigating Hinduism), The Hermetic
Tradition, Introduction to
Magic, The Mystery of the Grail
and Meditation on the Peaks.
An apologetic tone appears
periodically in Hansen’s introduction, denoting a strong conviction that he has
to deal with a largely uncomprehending if not downright hostile readership. So,
for example, he states that Evola’s mindset was formed in „a relatively recent
intellectual climate that seems to belong to a whole other world in its
incisive questioning of what we regard today as self-evident ‘humanism’: a
different world whose utterances seem barely publishable today.“ However,
perhaps modernity is only standing tall on feet of clay – as its well-known
tendency to discourage and even suppress antithetical political and historical
theses testifies.
Important early influences on
Evola’s thought were the mediaeval Christian mystics Meister Eckhart and Jan
van Ruysbroeck. Hansen includes pertinent quotations from Eckhart, whom Evola
respected throughout his life:
„Being is God. [...] God and
existence are identical. Should I then be able to recognize God in an immediate
way, then I must become he and he must become I, pure and simple [...] so
completely at one, that this he and this I are one and will become and be one.
[...] Coarse-natured people must simply believe this, but the enlightened must
know it.“
Plainly this is equivalent to
the Hindu doctrine tat twam asi,
which proclaims the ultimate identity of the Self and the Divine Source.
A number of secular writers
also influenced Evola in his youth. From Carlo Michelstaedler (1887-1910) he learned
the vital importance of personal authenticity, of following „the path of
conviction, which has no road-signs or directions that one can share, study or
repeat,“ of not „surrendering to contentment with what has been given to one by
others.“
From Otto Weininger
(1880-1903), author of Sex and
Character, Evola derived his sense of the importance of manliness, his
attitude towards woman as the metaphysical and political opposite of man, his
dislike of populist „Caesars“ and his hostility to the decadence of modernity.
Plato played an important role
in arousing Evola’s antidemocratic views, as did Nietzsche, although Evola
always cautioned against the hubris
implicit in Nietzsche’s ignoring of transcendence.
Oswald Spengler alerted Evola
to the fundamental decadence of modernity, despite its boasts about „progress“
and „the advances of science.“ From Spengler he learned that it is a sure sign
of corruption of the body politic when the economy wins the upper hand. He
agreed with Spengler’s analysis of the onslaught of money against the spiritual
in Western culture: „Only high finance is completely free, completely
unsusceptible to attack. Since 1789, the banks and thus the stock exchanges
have come into their own as a power, feeding off the credit needs of an
industry growing into monstrous proportions. Now they, and money, want to be
the sole power in all civilizations.“
From The Crowd by Gustave Le Bon[12] (1841-1931) Evola absorbed a pessimistic
attitude towards the masses, whose natural tendency is to follow strength
rather than virtue. And from Johann Jakob Bachofen came the identification of
the age of female rule with the age of earthbound, chthonic deities, against
which Evola proposed the superiority of a solar, manly and Olympian rule. There
is definitely error in Evola’s analysis here, as anyone who appreciates Robert
Graves’ The White Goddess[13] and Starhawk’s The Spiral Dance[14] will agree. There is a Graeco-Roman bias
in Evola which leaves inadequate room for the Celtic.
Evola was deeply influenced by
texts of the non-dogmatic Eastern religions, including Buddhist Pali scriptures
and the Hindu Bhagavad Gita.[15] From Taoism he
derived his understanding of the nature of power. The Tao Te Ching tells how „the awakened one“ achieves self-fulfillment
because he is selfless, and praises the superior man who „leads and yet does
not lord it over“ his fellows.
Thus Evola differentiated
power from mere brute force.
„Superiority does not rest on
power, but power rests on superiority. [...] The path of renunciation can be a
condition for the way to the highest power. [...] A true ruler has access to
this higher quantity of being, a different quality of being, and imposes
himself through his mere presence.“
Evola was twenty-four when
Mussolini entered Rome at the invitation of King Victor Emmanuel III. He thus
lived the years of his prime under Fascism and naturally had hopes of
influencing it, correcting it and steering it into aristocratic channels.
In 1927 in his first political
book, Imperialismo Pagano, he
expressed concern at the direction Fascism was taking:
„Caught up in the struggles
and worries of concrete politics, Fascism does not seem to be interested in
creating a hierarchy in the higher sense, based on purely spiritual values and
knowing only disdain for all pollutions due to ‘culture’ and modern
intellectualism, so that the centre might again shift to a position that lies
beyond secular and religious boundaries alike.“
His critique applied to
Western nations generally:
„In the same way that a living
body stays alive only when a soul is
present to govern it, so every social organization not rooted in a spiritual
reality is outward and transitory, unable to remain healthy and retain its
identity in the struggle of the various forces; it is not really an organism, but more aptly something thrown together, an aggregate.
The true cause for the decline
of the political idea in the West today is to be found in the fact that the
spiritual values that once permeated the social order have been lost, without
any successful efforts to put something better in their place. The problem has
been lowered to the plane of economic, industrial, military, governmental, or
even more sentimental factors, without considering that all this is nothing
more than matter: necessary if you like, but never enough by itself, and unable
to create a healthy and reasonable social order.“
Relying on Dante’s De Monarchia and other authorities,
Evola saw a monarchy as the „natural gravitational and crystallizing point“ of
the true Right:
„This ideal implies the
affirmation not only of the concept and right of the nobility, but also of the monarchy. [...] It must be renewed,
strengthened, and dynamized as an organic,
central, absolute function that embodies the might of power and the light of
the spirit in a single being; then the monarchy is truly the act of a whole race, and at the same time the
point that leads beyond all that is bound by blood and soil.
Only
then is one justified to speak of an Imperium.
When it is awakened into a glorious, holy, metaphysical reality, the pinnacle
of a martially ordered political hierarchy, then the
monarchy once again occupies the place and fulfils the function that it once
had, before being usurped by the priestly caste.“
As Hansen observes, with this
emphasis on a spiritual monarchy presiding over an imperial order, Evola stood
in sharp contrast to the principle of the leaders of Fascism and National
Socialism, both of whom derived their legitimacy, they claimed, from the
people. Inevitably he remained without political influence on either movement.
He saw Fascism as „a
degenerate child of Tradition.“ It appeared to him as „the last chance of the
West.“ From his standpoint, the visible alternatives were much worse, explains
Hansen.
„There were only liberalism
paired with capitalism (‘Anything goes!’) and communism, both of which
worshipped a world of machines and limitless materialism. [...] Fascism at
least strengthened the State and the hierarchical concept [...] and praised
honour, bravery and loyalty.“
Evola believed that it was
Italy that had failed Fascism, rather than the other way around. The nation
„did not have enough men on
the necessary plane of certain higher qualifications and symbols [...], capable
of further developing the positive possibilities that could have been contained
in the system.“
Hansen explains how National
Socialism came to have greater appeal to Evola, partly because of its concept
of a State ruled by an Order, which he felt was embodied in the SS. Yet he strongly
warned against the inadequate respect for the transcendent:
„National Socialism has
forsworn the ancient, aristocratic tradition of the Empire. Being nothing but a
semi-collectivist nationalism and equalizing in its centralism, it has not
hesitated to destroy Germany’s time-honoured division into duchies, counties
and cities that all enjoyed a measure of independence.“
An extract from a lecture he
gave in Berlin in 1937 shows how Evola saw Hitler’s National Socialism as a
caricature of a true conservative order:
„According to the Aryan
primordial conception, the Reich is a
metaphysical solar reality. The Nordic heritage is not semi-naturalistic, only
conceivable on a blood-and-soil basis, but rather constitutes a cultural
category, an original transcendent form of the spirit, of which the Nordic
type, the Aryan race, and the general Indo-Germanic moral being are only
outward manifestations.
Race
is a basic attitude, a spiritual power, something primal and creative. [...]
This is the true level to which the motifs and symbols that the new Germany has
called forth must be elevated if it really wants to stand at the forefront of
the resistance and attack against the dark powers of world revolution.“
Hansen
stalwartly presents and assesses Evola’s attitudes to race and to the Jewish
question – intellectual minefields over which he steps delicately and
honorably. He stresses that Evola’s position regarding race was a consequence
of his worldview. Evola wrote:
„Our
racial doctrine is determined by Tradition. Thus the traditional view of the
human being is our foundation, according to which this being has a tripartite
nature; that is, it consists of three principles,
spirit, soul and body. [...] Race is a deeply embedded force that
reveals itself in the biological and morphological realm (as race of the body),
the psychical (as race of the soul), as well as in the spiritual (as race of
the spirit).“
And
in 1928 he stated that races deteriorate when their spirits deteriorate.
„That
is why for us the return to the race cannot be merely the return to the blood –
especially in these twilight times in which almost irreversible mixtures have
taken place. It must mean a return to the spirit, not in a totemistic sense but
in an aristocratic sense, relating to the primordial seed of our ‘form’ and our
culture.“
As
Hansen remarks, Evola not only fought vehemently against a purely physical
racism, but also understood the term ‘race’ differently from its general usage.
His studies of Buddhist scriptures that continually mention the arya and
understand the arya as „the noble“ affected his employment of the word „Aryan.“
The Sanscrit word arya has a fourfold meaning:
spiritually,
„the awakened ones“;
aristocratically,
membership of a higher caste;
racially,
as of the light-skinned Nordic conquerors. (Varna, caste, originally meant
color.);
stylistically,
as of a crystalline clarity, lack of passionate emotion, ascetic manner, and
detached attitude.
Hansen
condemns some of Evola’s obsessions and utterances critical of Jewry,
especially an appendix he wrote to the Protocols of the Elders of Zion,[16] which
demonstrated „sheer carelessness, a lack of serious research, and the reckless
assimilation of prejudices that happened to coincide with his own views.“
On the other hand, Hansen points out that Evola’s
writings never spoke out against orthodox, religious Judaism. „There are
elements and symbols in the Old Testament,“ Evola
commented, „that possess metaphysical and therefore universal value.“ He also
praised Kabbalah as one of the few initiatory paths that can still be followed
successfully in the West today.
His attacks were directed against the Jews as a
symbol of the rule of economic-materialistic individualism and the hegemony of
money. A Jewish critic, Adriana Goldstaub, agreed that Evola did not deem all
Jews, or the Jews exclusively, as responsible for the decline of the modern
world.
It is true, Hansen notes, that Evola was attracted
to the theory of a ‘global conspiracy’ by Jewish and Freemasonic circles, with
the intention of toppling Christian and traditional state institutions; but he
considered such circles not so much movers as instruments of other forces, not
necessarily human.
In summary, Evola ‘engaged’ himself for almost
sixty years in the fight to defend his principles. He embodied, says Hansen,
the ‘legionary spirit’, which was a phrase he took both from the greatness of
the Roman army and the Legionary movement of one of his most admired heroes,
the Rumanian Corneliu Codreanu.[17] Evola defined the legionary
spirit as „the attitude of him who can choose the hardest life, who is able to
continue fighting even when he knows that the battle is materially lost, who
holds to the ancient precept that ‘loyalty is mightier than fire’ and who
carries the traditional idea of honour and dishonour within.“
Evola was something of a universal man. Amongst
other pursuits, he found time as an alpinist for several difficult climbs; he
felt at home among the mountains; and the mountain remained a potent and
inspiring symbol for him of an arena where direct experience of the
transcendent can occur.
He requested in his will that after his death the
urn containing his ashes be deposited in a glacial crevasse on Monte Rosa; and
this was faithfully carried out by his executors and friends.
Beyond doubt Baron Julius Evola was a man of
destiny and a great man. The closest figure for comparison in the
English-speaking world is surely the Traditional poet, dramatist and essayist,
T. S. Eliot.[18] It seems likely that Evola will exert
more influence on the world after his life than in it.
Conservative Revolution
In Men Among the Ruins
Evola begins by considering what needs to be preserved (or re-instated) by a
truly authentic counter-revolution; he identifies his enemy as „the subversion
introduced in Europe by the revolutions of 1789 and 1848.“
In a passage remarkably reminiscent of words of T.
S. Eliot in his 1917 essay „Tradition and the Individual Talent,“[19] Evola defines the Tradition that needs to be defended: „Tradition
is neither servile conformity to what has been, nor a sluggish perpetuation of
the past into the present.
„Tradition, in its essence, is something
simultaneously meta-historical and dynamic: it is an overall ordering force in
the service of principles that have the chrism of a superior legitimacy (we may
even call them ‘principles from above’).“
Thus, as Eliot, Russell Kirk and others also did,
he warns against the error of a worldly, but short-sighted and partial,
conservatism, involving merely the defence of the „sociopolitical positions and
the material interests of a given class, of a given caste.“
He stresses, too, the need to be faithful not so
much to past forms and institutions as to the principles of which they were
particular expressions.
„New forms, corresponding in essence to the old
ones, are liable to emerge from them as if from a seed.“
In Australia, undoubtedly, imperfect forms and
movements have come into being since Federation[20] (of
which One Nation is currently the most notorious), which were not sufficiently
rooted in traditional principles because their leaders lacked adequate
understanding.
„The conservative revolution must emerge as a
predominantly spiritual phenomenon,“ Evola insists. In Australia some movements
have paid insufficient attention to this fundamental (Graham Campbell’s
Australia First fatally lacked such vision, for all its pragmatic and sensible
socio-political positions).
Others have been too closely attached to outdated
and inadequate religious forms, such as the National Civic Council[21] and National Action[22] (to
different strands of Catholicism) and the Australian League of Rights[23] (to an Anglicanism mediated through the particular mind
of Major Clifford Douglas, founder of Social Credit).
Evola, naturally, focuses especially upon Italy, as
he looks for historical forms that might be the „basis for an integration that
will immediately leave them behind.“ For him, these are the „ancient Roman
world“ (the world of Cato, not of Nero!) and „certain aspects of mediaeval
civilization“ (mainly the Ghibelline movement which supported the Holy Roman
Empire).
This prompts the question of what forms we in
Australia should seek as supports; and immediately it must be stressed that for
us Australian history cannot be viewed as beginning with the brave seamen who
discovered our continent only a few centuries ago.
For us, despite the barrage of contemporary
propaganda to the contrary, Australia remains a fundamentally British nation (it retains the British Crown, a constitution
and laws essentially inspired by Britain, and the language of the British
people).
Thus our history extends back to the foundations of
Britain itself, and its four kingdoms of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland
(the best Irish tradition is that of Tara and the High Kings). Our supports
will be found from a period of two millennia.
The Basis of Sovereignty
Evola’s second chapter („Sovereignty, Authority,
Imperium“) is one of his most important. He proceeds from the conviction that
the principle of the „true State“ (a principle expressed as sovereignty,
authority and law) is itself founded upon transcendence.
As soon as Evola moves downwards from this
metaphysical point of origin, his formulations require careful critical
examination. For example, he admires
„the pure power of command, the almost mystical
power and auctoritas inherent in one who
had the function and quality of Leader: a leader in the religious and warrior
order as well as in the order of the patrician family, the gens.“
Here, already, is a possible weakness in Evola.
Himself by nature a kshatriya (knightly
man of honor), he tends (in my view) to wrongly annex for his caste the
superior authority of the brahmins (the sages,
those who know) – just as, in places, he demeans
the brahmins by confusing them with „priests“ who he sees as usurpers of the
original royal authority.[24]
Of the principle of sovereignty, Evola writes that „it
is also necessary to recognize its attribute of absoluteness.“
Such an absoluteness can only belong to the One Divine Source („There is no God
but God.“), irrespective of what name is given to this source („God,“ „Allah,“ „Brahman,“
„The Goddess“ or whatever).
Evola tends, however, at times, to transfer this
absoluteness to forms which appeal to his strongly masculine, knightly and
warrior temperament. Yet, no matter how valuable they may be, such forms remain
contingent and limited, not universal. This tendency to absolutize the
contingent is the „occupational hazard“ of the modes of dogmatic religion which
have proceeded from the Middle East.
We can observe among the three „Peoples of the Book“
three forms of this error: the absolutization of a people (Judaism), of a
prophet (Christianity) and of a sacred scripture (Islam). (We may compare the
theological mistake, noted by Maurice Nicoll and Frithjof Schuon, of
absolutizing Hell, an error deriving from the mistranslation of the Greek word aionios as „eternal“ instead of „age-long.“[25] Just as „there is no God but God,“ so there is no
eternity but eternity.)
Evola correctly identifies the principle of
sovereignty as „the point of stability“ and „the natural centre“ of the entire
organism. The essential political task in Australia at the present time is to
safeguard and then strengthen and even re-establish the only
centre we possess, which is the monarchy, Christian and British,
which we currently share with the mother country and some other nations.
The republican presidency which is being vigorously
promoted by powerful (and sometimes sinister) influences, as well as by
numerous wiseacres (sincere as well as opportunistic), cannot provide such a
centre, because it is not authorized by a transcendent origin.
Princeps a legibus solutus („the law does not apply to the one who acts as
Leader“) is a maxim quoted approvingly by Evola; but it, too, needs
qualification.
Strictly, it applies only to the leader, or
monarch, who lives and governs „in accordance with the mandate of Heaven,“ as
Chinese tradition puts it.[26]
Royal dynasties, emperors, houses can lose their te; and then it becomes right that they be replaced by
fresh blood. Unlucky the generation on whom the burden of replacement falls,
however, as such transitions are fraught with instability and danger.
Evola rejects emphatically the modern heresy that
the State is the expression of ‘society’.
„The anagogical end (namely, of a power drawing
upward) of the State is [...] completely denied by the
‘social’ or ‘communal’ view of its formation.“
Nor, he argues, is it the chief purpose of the State
to bring worldly happiness or pleasure (as Aldous Huxley showed in Brave New World[27]).
Evola places much store on the theory of ‘the
regression of the castes’ and the claim that we are living in the last phase of
the fourth and darkest age. He sees the decline as having begun when the rulers
lost their authorizing link with the worlds above.
„Later in history, this line leads, if not to the
imperium, to the divine right of kings; where there were no groups created by
the power of a rite, there were orders, aristocracies, political classes
defined by disciplines and dignities. [...] Then the line
was broken, and the decadence of the State idea [...]
ended with the inversion through which the world of the demos and the
materialized masses emerged on the political horizon, engaging in the struggle
for power.“
This picture of deterioration is important for us,
because it reminds us that even the monarchical political orders of the period
of European greatness and expansion were themselves seriously deficient.
This suggests that Australian monarchists today need to recover a concept of
royalty that exceeds in dignity anything recorded in British history. It may be
that such a concept can be found in the ancient cultures of Egypt,[28] India and China.
Much more questionable is Evola’s attempt to unite
his image of the State to manliness.
„The State is under the masculine aegis, while
‘society’ and, by extension, the people or demos
are under the feminine aegis.“
Evola’s attempt to justify this from mythology
appears to depend on a selective approach to ancient myths.
His approach parallels that espoused by Melbourne
psychologist Ronald Conway in The Great Australian Stupor
and Land of the Long Weekend.[29] Conway takes over from historian of sexuality Gordon
Rattray Taylor[30] the model of four psychological modes
into which human beings, their behaviors and communities formed by those
behaviors, can be classified. He idealizes the patrist-conservative at the
expense of the patrist-authoritarian, the matrist-permissive and the
fraternalist-anarchic.
It seems likely, however, that a fifth mode should
be included, which I designate as the matrist-creative; and that normality (in
the sense of rightness and good health) should be seen to reside in the wedding of the patrist-conservative and matrist-creative.
Both Conway and Evola are clearly very aware of the
gulf between the Higher Masculine (the sage, the warrior) and the Lower
Masculine (the profiteer, the mobster), but each, through some fault of
temperament, has failed to acknowledge a corresponding dichotomy between the
Higher Feminine (well symbolized by the goddesses in many pantheons) and the
Lower Feminine (the nymph, the courtesan).
Thus, when Evola asserts that „both democracy and
socialism ratify the shift from the masculine to the feminine and from the
spiritual to the material and the promiscuous,“ he has in mind the Lower
Feminine only and has temporarily forgotten the comparable imperfection of the
Lower Masculine (which is clearly just as much implicated in „the revolt of the
masses“).
Evola also warns against an insufficient kind of
patriotism. „The notions of nation, fatherland and people, despite their
romantic and idealistic halo, essentially belong to the naturalistic and
biological plane and not the political one.“ He contrasts „the masses,“ who can
be easily mobilized by patriotic motifs, with „men who differentiate themselves
[...] as bearers of a complete legitimacy and authority, bestowed by the Idea
(of the true State) and by their rigorous, impersonal adherence to it. The
Idea...must be the true fatherland for these men.“
Evola tends to disparage adherence „to the same
land, language or blood.“ Perhaps stock and „blood“ are more important than he
admits, being the bodies in which the ‘soul of the State’ can incarnate. Even
Evola, writing only eight years after the end of World War II, may have been
traumatized by the intense anti-Nazism of that time.
His rejection of democracy is trenchant:
„When a sovereignty is no longer allowed other than
one that is the expression and the reflection of the ‘will of the nation’, it
is almost as if a creature overtook its creator.“
He traces the „inconsistency and, most of all, the cowardice“ of those who in our time constitute the
political class to the shift from monarchical and aristocratic orders to „demagogues
and to the so-called ‘servants of the nation’ [...] who presume to ‘represent’
the people and who acquire various offices or positions of power by flattering
and manipulating the masses.“
Then occurs the phenomenon of action through
pseudo-myths, „formulas lacking any objective truth and that appeal to the
sub-intellectual dimension and passions of individuals and the masses.“ The
current campaign for „Aboriginal reconciliation“ is an example.[31]
Fantasy novels, such as The Lord of
the Rings[32] and Terry Goodkind’s „Sword of
Truth“ series,[33] represent a yearning in the souls of
modern people to escape from democratic degradation back to the clear air of
the true State. Russell Kirk also noted the importance of modern fantasy
literature in Enemies of the Permanent Things.[34]
Evola also noted the attempt to create a
counter-State by the forces of subversion: „A realization of the Idea is
already present on the other front.“ He had in mind the recently formed United
Nations Organization, which he correctly saw as lacking authorization by
transcendence. Half a century later the danger of the „New World Order“ is much
greater, as Australia’s ratification of the International Criminal Court has
just recently shown.[35] Those who will not be ruled by
kings will end up being ruled by tyrants.
Person, Justice, and Freedom
Evola names liberalism as the origin of the various
inter-connected forms of global subversion. He sees the essence of liberalism
as individualism. „It mistakes the person for the individual.“ The nonsensical
theory of egalitarianism depends upon this confusion.
Evola defines a person as „an individual who is
differentiated through his qualities, endowed with his own face, his proper nature, and a series of attributes that make him who
he is [...] that make him fundamentally unequal.“
This leads to a consideration of „natural rights“
or „human rights.“ Evola points out that „the principle according to which all
human beings are free and enjoy equal rights ‘by nature’ is truly absurd, due
to the very fact that by nature they are not the same.“
There may be such a thing as „the dignity of the
human person,“ but it „admits to different degrees.“ Thus, justice means „to attribute to each and every one of these
degrees a different right and a different freedom.“ Evola is a champion of
discrimination, a just discrimination that recognizes the ancient principle „to
each his own.“
Defence of personhood against the atomization of
humanity into faceless individuals requires the recognition that man comes
before society and not the reverse. Evola also places personhood as superior to
membership of a nation.
„The perfection of the human being is the end to
which every healthy social institution must be subordinated. [...]
This perfection must be conceived on the basis of a process of individuation
and progressive differentiation.“
At the top of the pyramidal structure of the true
State Evola rather vaguely imagines ‘the absolute person’, the „supremely
realized person who represents the end, and the natural centre of gravity, of
the whole system [...] a dominating super-personality.“ Here he is in danger of
forgetting the pre-eminence of the transcendent. The lives of sages such as Sri
Ramana Maharshi[36] and Sheikh Alawi[37]
indicate that the „top of the pyramid“ lies outside this world.
Evola upholds the right of the nation over
‘humanity’, over and against „all the forms of individualistic disintegration,
international mixture and proletarization.“ As regards the question of
property, he castigates economic liberalism for engendering „various forms of
capitalist exploitation and cynical, antisocial plutocracy,“ but also
castigates the French revolutionaries’ attack on the ancien régime[38] because it broke the
organic connection „between personhood and property, social function and
wealth, and between a given qualification or moral nobility and the rightful
and legitimate possession of goods.“
These developments enabled the communist attack on
the very principle of private property,[39] since „whenever
there is no higher legitimization of ownership, it is always possible to wonder
why some people have property and others do not, or why some people have earned
for themselves privileges and social pre-eminence [...], while lacking
something that would make them stand out and above everybody else in an
effective and sensible manner.“
By contrast, „ancient and primitive man essentially
obeyed [...] those in whom he perceived a saturation of mana (that is, sacred energy and life force).“ The lesson
from this part of Evola’s book is that the Australian Right must courageously
champion discrimination, hierarchy, caste and personhood – and find ways (a
rhetoric, a discourse) of showing ordinary persons how a society based on such
principles will bring them more real benefit than the utopian dreams of
egalitarians.
Totalitarianism
Evola points out the fundamental distinction
between the traditional, organic State, based upon transcendent authority, and
the modern totalitarian state.
A State is traditional and organic „when it has a
centre that shapes the various domains of life in an efficacious way [...]
when, by virtue of a system of hierarchical participation, every part within
its relative autonomy performs its function and enjoys an intimate connection
with the whole.“
Such a state is sympathetic to pluralism and
decentralization, which „can be accentuated in proportion to the degree to
which the centre enjoys a spiritual and even transcendent character, a
sovereign equilibrating power and a natural prestige.“
In such a State there is „an inner order of single
freedoms, an immanence of general law that guides and sustains people without
coercing them.“ Evola notes the importance of oaths in traditional societies. „The
oath of loyalty [...] was regarded as a true sacrament [...] in the feudal
world.“
By contrast, a totalitarian state is a counterfeit
of the organic ideal. Unity is imposed from the outside by a power that is
exclusively and materially political. There is a tendency towards uniformity
and intolerance of any partial form of autonomy and any degree of freedom, for
any intermediate body between the centre and the periphery.
This in turn engenders „a kind of sclerosis [...] a
monstrous hypertrophy of the entire bureaucratic-administrative structure,“
leading to „an insolent intrusion of the public sphere into the private domain.“
A super-organized, centralized economy makes totalitarianism „a school of
servility,“ in which there is „a sort of intrinsic and gloomy enjoyment of this
relentless levelling process.“
Thus, totalitarian rule destroys „quality,
articulated forms, castes and classes, the values of personhood, true freedom,
daring and responsible initiative and heroic feats.“
Democrats tend to publicize an alleged antithesis
between liberal democracy and totalitarianism; whereas the truth appears to be
that such democracy is a phase in the decline from the true State into the
tyranny of totalitarianism.
Thus, democrats (and their hidden promoters) are
happy to give much publicity to George Orwell, whose Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-Four[40] brilliantly expose the evil of totalitarianism; but they
tend to be much less enthusiastic about Alexander Solzhenitsyn, whose series of
great novels culminating in The Red Wheel (parts
of which are still, mysteriously, unavailable in English) not merely rivals
Orwell’s depiction of the horror, but also advocates a return to traditional
verities including religious orthodoxy.[41] The Australian
Right needs to note the difference between the two writers (for Orwell never
recovered from his early rebellion against Tradition) and to stress that the
Sovereign, acting in the service of God, is a better protector from tyranny
than the democratic politician.
„Sons of the People“
Evola sees another extreme consequence of democracy
to be Bonapartism,[42] which he defines as „a despotism
based on a democratic view, which it denies de facto while
fulfilling it in theory.“ Many a modern dictator, large or small, comes under
this heading.
The danger of such figures is well indicated by
Evola:
„Since he personifies the will of the people, which
is conceived as the political ultima ratio,
the leader ends up claiming for himself an unlimited authority and regarding
all the intermediate political bodies and all the branches of government as
completely dependent on the central power, which alone is believed to
legitimately represent the people.“
Orwell’s portrait of Big Brother attacked this kind
of dictatorship.
Evola further distinguishes the true king from the
Bonapartist despot by considering their relationships with those whom they
rule:
„While the traditional view of sovereignty and
authority sees it characterized by distance from the people, and the feeling of
distance induces in the inferiors a sense of veneration, a natural respect and
disposition to obedience and loyalty towards the leaders [...],
the Bonapartist despot is [...] enslaved to the complex
of ‘popularity’ and [...] appeals to the lowest levels of
human beings.“
Bread and circuses – or the modern equivalents!
In considering dictatorship, a mode of rule he
finds but rarely justified in history, Evola points out that, according to
traditional thought, „what matters is that a man be valued and recognized in
terms of the idea and the principle he upholds, and not vice-versa.“
Thus, within a properly constituted aristocratic
order, we should admire a noble „for being one in whom a tradition and a
special ‘spiritual race’ shine forth [...] whose greatness is due not to his
human virtues, but rather to the principle, the idea and a certain regal
impersonality that he embodies.“
In this context Evola dismisses Machiavelli’s
prince as one whose authority no longer comes from above, its foundation being
mere worldly strength.
„Here the leader does not consider the higher
faculties that can be reawakened in his subjects; he harbours contempt and a
fundamental pessimism towards people in general, on the basis of an alleged
political ‘realism’.“
Such a leader also lacks a true respect for himself
and his own dignity.
In Australia, the kind of adulation felt in some
quarters for people as diverse as Paul Keating,[43]
Pauline Hanson, and Sir William Deane[44] reminds us of
the temptations the general populace may experience to draw towards themselves
the „son“ or „daughter“ of „the people.“
Evola does not, by the way, neglect to pay respect
to the military genius and achievements of Napoleon Bonaparte, but associates
these with the heroism of the dux or imperator, a figure carefully distinguished in ancient Rome
from the rex.
The lesson for the Australian Right here is that it
must seek a national leader who embodies the aristocratic sense of quality that
comes hand-in-hand with a sense of humility before the awesome presence of God.
A populist leader will be insufficient.
A Demonic Economy
„Nothing in excess!“ (the Delphic Oracle)
„Substine et abstine!“ („Stand firm and hold back!“)
These are two of the traditional sayings Evola
invokes in his examination of the modern glorification of work in our demonized
economy.
In traditional societies „individuals still lived
in the station allotted to them by life. In those 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 alienation decried by Marxism.“
Evola also refers to the Thomist and Lutheran
teaching that the acquisition of goods should be restricted and that work and
the quest for profit are justifiable only in order to acquire a level of wealth
corresponding to a person’s status in life.
He compares this traditional lifestyle of restraint
and modesty with the pathological behavior of the modern world in which the
importance of the economy is grossly exaggerated, so as to exercise a hypnotic
tyranny over consumers whose appetites have been artificially inflamed.
„The true antithesis,“ Evola insists, „is between a
system in which the economy rules supreme [...] and a system in which the
economy is subordinated to extra-economic factors, within a wider and more
complete order, such as to bestow a deep meaning upon human life and foster the
development of its highest possibilities.“
Evola counters the utilitarian argument that the
development of modern commerce and industry has improved the standard of living
by pointing out that „the qualities that matter the most in a man and make him
who he is often arise in harsh circumstances and even in conditions of
indigence and injustice, since they represent a challenge to him, testing his
spirit.“
Evola sees the task ahead as being „to
deproletarize the view of life“ and calls for a metanoia,[45] an inner transformation that will strike at the heart of
the hegemony of work and regain for man his inner freedom.
As regards the State itself, he suggests that autarchy may be an ethical precept.
„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.“
This, of course, was a key position taken by the
great Portuguese leader Dr. Oliveira Salazar, whose life and philosophy
deserves careful study.[46] The overthrow of his
successor, Dr Marcello Caetano, by the Spinola coup in 1974 was one of the
tragedies of modern Europe – and of southern Africa. The full story has perhaps
not yet been told in English.
Evola also makes an important distinction between
work and action. It is action that is performed
by those of the kshatriya class – by ascetics, rulers, artists, explorers,
warriors, scientists, diplomats, philosophers and theologians.
The challenge for the Australian Right, in the
context of this tyranny of a mercantile outlook, is to articulate a
comprehensive vision for Australians which will have the capacity to win their
hearts away from hedonism and the lust for wealth, which is currently
symbolized so effectively by the domination of gambling facilities of all
kinds.
History and its Misuse
Evola attacks a tradition of historicism,
originating with Hegel, which has given an abnormal emphasis to history, to the
advantage of subversive forces.
He laments „the disastrous shift from a civilization of being (characterized by stability, form
and adherence to super-temporal principles) to a
civilization of becoming (characterized by change, flux and
contingency).“ He also points out that the ideas of History, progress and
evolution have been closely associated.
Monarchists will enjoy his observation that „the
anathema of being ‘anti-historical’ and ‘outside history’ is cast against those
who still remember the way things were before and who call subversion by its
name, instead of conforming to the processes that are precipitating the world’s
decline.“
From this discussion, Evola moves to a
consideration of the „different histories“ that exist within the history of
nations. What is required is a wise choice of traditions.
Evola condemns a pseudo-patriotic historiography in Italy which, „due to its
partisan spirit, suggestions and catchphrases, precludes the objective
comprehension of many aspects of the past.“ He even writes of fabricated history: „the alibi that revolutionary
liberalism, democracy and the thinkers of Freemasonry and the Enlightenment
have created for their own benefit.“
The Australian Right needs to rescue much from the
history of the British and of Australia which has been overlooked, while
contending intelligently with partisan accounts of (for example) the treatment
of the Aborigines, which are designed to enable political change leading to a
republic (in name) which will be a province (in fact) of the New World Order.
Warrior and Bourgeois
Evola’s most self-revealing chapter is his study of
the different ways of looking at war and the role of the warrior found in
traditional „heroic“ societies and in modern bourgeois societies. It was only
in reading it that I realized how much I myself am a product of mercantile
politics, and why men like Sir Walter Scott and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote
novels like Quentin Durward and Sir Nigel.[47]
Evola points out that „militarism“ is the bête noire of many democrats – and that it is a word at
times misapplied to noble warrior behavior. His account, in this context, of
modern democracies seems, in the light of September 11, to be remarkably up to
date!
He notes that their view „is that in society 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.“ The military is a mere instrument. Democratic
ideology proclaims that armies should be used „only as an international police
force“ to maintain „the peace.“ Evola dryly comments that „in most cases this
amounts to allowing wealthy nations to live undisturbed.“ The armed forces are
used „to impose or retain an economic hegemony; to gain new markets and to
acquire raw materials; and to create new space for capital seeking investment
and profit.“ This explains „the deep, widespread mistrust toward the
ideological background of the recent wars, a background shaped by many lies and
much propaganda.“
In short, the bourgeois-democratic lifestyle leads
to hypocrisy and deceit: corruption on the grand scale.
Evola contrasts such a civilization with that of
which the ancient Order of Teutonic Knights and the Prussian tradition were
recent examples. In such a world the warrior (as opposed to the mercenary
soldier) was not at the service of the merchant class but ruled over it.
His lifestyle had its own spirituality and ethics:
„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.“
In such a climate of heroic integrity war did not
have a merely negative meaning. Evola points out that there is an identity
between spirit and superior civilization and the warrior’s role.
„In the traditional world we encounter the
interpretation of life as a perennial struggle between metaphysical powers,
between Uranian forces of light and order [...] and
telluric, dark forces of chaos and matter. [...]
Traditional man yearned to fight this battle and to triumph in both the inner
and outer worlds.“
Evola adds that there is an interdependence between
the warrior idea and that „of a certain ‘asceticism’, inner discipline and
superiority toward or control of one’s self.“ This was „the foundation of a
specific ‘style’ that has largely been lost.“
He also reminds us that in many civilizations „even
the hierarchies with a spiritual foundation either relied on hierarchies that
were more or less warrior [...] or reproduced their form.“ Then, „when the
original spiritual level could not be maintained, hierarchical structures of a
warrior type constituted the armature of the major States, especially in the
West.“
Thus, „since the sensibility for purely spiritual
values and dignities has become mostly atrophied among Western populations
[...], the model of a military hierarchy [...] is almost the only one that can
still supply the basis“ for an upwardly striving lifestyle. „That model still
retains a certain prestige,“ since „there is a heroic dimension in the Western
soul that cannot be extirpated.“
One advantage of a heroic, as opposed to a
bourgeois, civilization is its readiness to fight. There is „a certain
continuity of spirit and attitude, a common denominator in peace and in war
that facilitates the shift from one state to the other.“ Thus, „when a war
breaks out, a nation is ready for it, and fights with a sufficient number of
men who reproduce in a new form the warrior type.“
Evola also addresses the question of what role can
be played by the heroic spirit in modern, „total“ wars, in which science and
technology have so drastically changed the human conditions of combat. Here he
writes with a bleakness that he probably absorbed in part from Ernst Jünger.[48]
Essentially, he calls for a quality of endurance
through warfare that is comparable to „elementary and unavoidable natural
phenomena.“ Man must „remain spiritually upright“ through „extreme trials and
destructions“ by developing in himself „a new inner dimension [...] of cold,
lucid and complex heroism“ including „a sacrificial disposition.“
It seems clear that in Australia an effective
movement of the Right will need to honor the warrior lifestyle in both its
deeds and its words. Ways must be found to rouse our manhood from „the great
Australian stupor“ that has perhaps resulted primarily from the bourgeois
atmosphere.
Ronald Conway pointed out that Australia most
nearly approached an aristocratic political order in the two decades before
World War I, when there was a society of quality that Martin Boyd (a member of
it) captured well in his novels, which merit close study.[49]
Religious Restoration
Hindu tradition teaches that there are four states
in which human beings can exist: deep sleep, sleep, awakening and enlightenment
or attainment. What we normally think of as our waking state is in fact sleep;
and what we regard as sleep is deep sleep.
It was in this tradition that Gurdjieff[50] told those who came to his lectures that they were
machines which „could do nothing,“ because they were asleep.
Evola does not mention this tradition in Men Among the Ruins, although he no doubt discusses it
elsewhere. It is vital to an understanding of religion and, most especially,
initiation – the processes of esoteric sacred tradition designed to wake initiates up. In my view, initiation is the
prerogative of the brahmin caste; and René Guénon was correct to state that „the
modern disaster“ had befallen Western Europe because the Church had lost its
power to initiate.[51] That loss is the greatest
difficulty with which modern Europeans and Australians who seek to restore
traditional society must contend. It has created a void which can only be
filled by a new impulse from the „worlds above.“
In another very important chapter („Tradition /
Catholicism / Ghibellinism“) Evola begins by stressing that by Tradition he
does not refer to religious traditions in general or to the Catholic Christian
tradition in particular, but „to something wider, more austere and more
universal than mere Catholicism.“
He acknowledges that in the past some conservative
forces have been inspired by Catholicism, which „gave a special chrism to the
principles of authority and sovereignty.“ However, „the true traditional spirit
acknowledges a superior, metaphysical unity beyond the individual religious
traditions.“
That position has been most succinctly and
effectively expressed by Frithjof Schuon in The Transcendent Unity of
Religions.[52] Representatives of Catholicism
(such as James McAuley, the Australian poet, in The End of
Modernity) and of Orthodoxy (such as Monk Damascene Christensen in Not of This World) have tried in vain to disprove this
perennialist thesis.[53]
Evola correctly warns that foolish persistence in religious
exclusivity will impede efforts to engage in the restoration of traditional
political order. Evola needs to be quoted at length here, as too many
Australian Christians are resisting the essential metanoia (not
„repentance,“ but fundamental change of orientation – as Maurice Nicoll
stressed).
„Despite the fact that every religious form has the
right to a certain exclusivity in the area of its pertinence, the idea of this
higher unity [...] should be acknowledged by its most
qualified representatives.
The exclusivist position may not be maintained
without the danger of discrediting the traditional Catholics (and other
Christians) who rigidly adhere to it. [...] Nobody with a
higher education can really believe in the axiom: ‘There is no salvation outside
the Church.’ This is a matter not of ‘faith’, but of either knowledge or
ignorance. [...] The current state of knowledge in
matters of comparative religion, mythology and even ethnology requires a
revision and an adequate widening of the intellectual horizons.“
Muslims should heed this warning as well as
Christians.
Evola also gives his attention to „the problem of
the relationship between the principle of sovereignty and the religious
principle in general,“ but his adherence to the Ghibelline cause may have led
him astray. He argues that, according to Ghibelline theology, the Holy Roman
Empire was „an institution of supernatural origin and character, like the
Church.“
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).“
The Ghibelline emperors opposed the hegemonic
claims of the clergy and claimed to have only God above themselves. The
realization of the human person was believed to consist either in the path of action (represented by the Empire) or in the path of contemplation (represented by the Church). This was Dante’s
view. Thus, 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.
Evola also points out that the title of Pontiff,
originating from the Latin word pontifex („bridge-builder“)
and denoting one who mediates transcendence into this world, was the title of
Roman emperors.
Thus, in the first few centuries of the current
era, as well as in the Byzantine Empire, the clergy were subjected to the
Emperor in the theological domain, as is proved by the fact that it was to the
Emperor that the formulas of the church councils were submitted for their final
decision and ratification.
Evola clearly prefers this pre-eminence of Empire
over Church to the model of the Guelph opposition, which sought to ensure that
the Church was the supreme power. In my view, however, neither faction was
completely right.
By nature, the brahmin is superior
to the kshatriya. The latter needs the
guidance of the former, not vice-versa. Unfortunately, the Church (as noted
above) lost its brahminic capacity and thus forfeited any right to give
directions to kings and emperors.[54] Nevertheless, kshatriyas continue to need guidance; an Arthur needs his
Merlin, an Aragorn his Gandalf.
It is very doubtful whether the Byzantine and
Ghibelline emperors were initiated men; in which case their claims to „have
only God above them“ were of very dubious standing.
The probable truth is that both Church and Empire
were „shells,“ in the sense in which Idries Shah uses the term in his book The Sufis.[55] That is to say, they
preserved forms from former initiatory groups without possessing the capacity
of initiation itself.
Hence in the world of European kingdoms that
emerged out of the Middle Ages there was no perfect solution to the dilemma
over which institution should have supreme power, Church or State; and,
inevitably, there was a continuing tug-of-war.
Evola also developed further his critique of the
Catholic Church, arguing that its „capability of providing adequate support for
a revolutionary-conservative and traditionalist movement must be resolutely
denied.“ He enumerated various failings of Catholicism and concluded that the
direction it has taken „is a descending and anti-traditional one, consisting of
modernization and coming to terms with democracy, socialism and progressivism.“
Thus, „the norm that must be followed [...] is to
travel an autonomous way, abandoning the Church to her destiny, considering her
actual inability to bestow an official consecration on a true, great,
traditional and super-traditional Right.“
My own view is that Australians of the Right should
be a little more magnanimous in their attitude to the Catholic Church and other
churches and even other religions. These may have their faults, but we will
have our faults too; for we cannot at present claim to be initiates, to be awakened men. All of us are like travelers lost in the
dark; we can use what intelligence we have to help each other, but must remain
honestly aware of the tentative nature of our own efforts. Let us pray that
Heaven will send down some future light to us or our descendants!
Finally, Evola comments on the apparent
discrepancies between what he misguidedly calls „the nihilist teachings“ of
Jesus in the Gospels and the kind of understanding necessary for effective rule
of a kingdom or empire. Here, he seems to give insufficient weight to the
obvious initiatory nature of much of the Gospel message,
tending to respond to texts as though they are to be taken literally when
beyond doubt they are to be taken symbolically.[56]
For example, he objects to the famous exhortation: „Render
unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is God’s.“ He sees this as
promoting a separation between human institutions and supernatural order which
the Guelph faction was able to exploit. However, it surely refers to the
fundamental difference between this world (Caesar’s
world, the world of those asleep) and the worlds above
(those of the awakening and the enlightened). The essential message is that the
two worlds should not be confused.
It is only if the profound initiatory teaching of
the Gospels is taken literally that it tends to conflict with practical common
sense in our ordinary conduct in this mundane world!
Unreal „Realisms“
In his eleventh chapter Evola considers a variety
of unsatisfactory responses to the unappealing and conformist world of the
bourgeois.
He rejects neo-realism as „the
mistake of those who regard only the inferior degrees of reality as real“ and
condemns psychoanalysis as „a doctrine that
divests and brands as unreal the conscious and sovereign principle of the
person, considering as ‘real’ instead the irrational, unconscious, collective
and nocturnal dimension of the human being, every higher faculty being seen as
derived and dependent.“
He gives a particularly adroit
and succinct summary of existentialism. It „proclaims the primacy of
‘existence’ over ‘being’, instead of acknowledging that existence acquires a
meaning only when it is inspired by something beyond itself. [...] In
this philosophy, ‘existence’ is identified with the most shallow forms of life;
this kind of existence is separated from any superior principle, made absolute
and cherished in its anguished and lightless immediacy.“
That
is an apt diagnosis of Albert Camus’ interesting but poisonous novel The Outsider, but would
not be fairly applied to the nobler novel The
Plague, in which the failed Algerian metaphysician struck a truly
tragic note.[57]
Evola
also notes that the bourgeois pettiness can even infect monarchs, churchmen and
communist demonstrators. Another inappropriate response to the bourgeois
mentality that he identifies is an exaggerated
appreciation of culture and intellectualism, associated with „the
growing, hypertrophic cerebralization of Western man,“ who has given too
privileged a position in recent centuries to conceptual thought.
In
response to these false alleys, Evola calls for „a more realistic opposition to
the bourgeois spirit“ which is „oriented upward“ and includes „a revival of the
heroic and aristocratic virtues.“
We
must „remain upright, feeling the presence in life of that which leads beyond
life.“ We need to recover a worldview based on „an inner form and a sensibility
endowed with an innate character“ which expresses „instinctive certainty“ and a
sense of „a sure meaning of life.“ This is the premise for „the emergence of
new men and leaders“ capable of establishing a new political climate.
This
suggests that any effective political movement of the Right in Australia will
need to promote inner
exploration in its followers – not merely pious prayer, but deeper
forms of meditation and contemplation.
The Corporative Workplace
As
a necessary step to the reassertion of control over the economy by the State,
Evola recommends an end to „classism“ and class struggle.
His
ideal is a corporative principle involving „a community of work and productive
solidarity, based on the principles of competence, qualification and natural
hierarchy, with the overall system characterized by a style of active
impersonality, selflessness and dignity.“ He recalls the mediaeval artisan
corporations, guilds and craft fraternities, whose members „enjoyed the status
of free men and
also were very proud of belonging to their association.“ Such men „felt love
for their work, which was regarded as [...] an art and an expression of one’s
vocation.“ They readily upheld „the code of honour of their corporations.“
That
world was turned upside down by the industrial revolution, which went
hand-in-hand with the rise to power of usurious financial groups. Thus, says Evola:
„today
the truly relevant and serious problem is that of the restraint that needs to
be placed on the wild and unscrupulous struggle among various monopolies, and
especially among the monopoly of goods and materials (co-operatives), the
monopoly of money (banking, finance, stock speculations) and the monopoly of
labour (trade unions).“
Evola
is certain that „only the State can effectively [...] limit the power of these
groups“ and that this can only happen „where the State appears as a
super-ordained power, capable of facing and defeating any subversive force.“
Australians should note here the overwhelming case for the retention of our
monarchy. Yielding to the agitation for a republic will mean handing ourselves
over to those who control these great monopolies – the „barons“ or „giants“ of
the age. Our task, then, must be to breathe life back into the monarchy, by
finding ways to rekindle heartfelt loyalty to the Crown, and later in our
history to effect the inauguration of a truly Australian monarchy, seeded, as
it were, from the parent tree in Britain.
Evola
is emphatic that the struggle against a degenerate and arrogant capitalism must
be waged „from above.“ As regards solutions, he is opposed to forms of worker
co-ownership, which he sees as tending to fatal inefficiency, particularly in
the management of large companies, which are like large armies. However, he
suggests that „ways should be devised through which the worker could gradually
become a small ‘owner,’ by making him possessor of non-transferable stocks of
his company corporation.“
Evola
calls for the suppression of „the worst type of capitalist, who is a
parasitical recipient of profits and dividends.“ Instead, in a new corporative
system, the owner of the means of production should „assume the function of
responsible leader, technical manager and capable organizer of the business he
runs, being surrounded by loyal workers who are free from trade union control.“
Evola
understands well that „in the varieties of what is essentially mechanical work
it is very difficult to retain the character of ‘art’ and of ‘vocation’ and for
the results of production to show any signature of the personhood of those who
worked to manufacture them.“ This poses a problem similar to that encountered
earlier in the phenomenon of „total war“ caused by modern scientific,
technological and industrial advances.
Evola
adopts a similar solution, seeking „the emergence of a new type, characterized
by a certain impersonality“ who will incarnate „new forms of the anonymity and
unselfishness that characterized ancient corporativism.“ Clearly such a
phenomenon could only appear in a noble and just State whose population as a
whole had faith in the goodness and purposes of that State.
Evola
also favored a reconstructed parliamentary system in which the Lower House is
filled with representatives of the business, professional and trades
corporations, whose task would mainly be the management of the State’s economic
affairs.
Political
concerns would largely be dealt with by the Upper House, which would consist of
men who embodied and could defend spiritual and national interests of prestige
and power. One should belong to this superior House „by designation from above
and for life, almost as if it were an Order, on the basis of one’s natural
dignity and inalienable qualification.“
Such
discussions will make Australian men and women of the Right aware of the
magnitude of the challenge that lies before them; but certainly we cannot rest
content with the current political structures as they operate.
Occult Politics
In
his thirteenth chapter, in which Evola rightly acknowledges his considerable
debt to René Guénon,[58] the question is asked whether „it
is necessary to identify influences of a higher order“ behind the disastrous
collapse around the world of traditionally articulated societies.
Evola
reminds us of how, for example, Catholic historiography „used to regard history
as [...] the unfolding of divine Providence, to which hostile forces are
opposed [...], „forces of evil“ [...], „forces of the Antichrist“ [...], forces
of the cosmos
against forces of chaos.“
This
is potentially sensational copy! However, Evola does not develop any kind of
detailed and documented enquiry into the
mystery of iniquity. Many readers may agree with me on the basis of
their own personal experience that there does seem to be active in our world a
superhuman being of evil,
whose presence can be felt on occasions as not merely one of enormous and
elemental power, but also one of a devastating hatred and conscious malignity. Evola carries
out no research into this matter, perhaps preferring to keep metaphysics out of
what is largely just a primer for political action.
Instead,
he uses the Protocols of the
Learned Elders of Zion, of whose authenticity he is clearly very
skeptical, to allow him to raise another question, that of „whether or not the
disorder of recent times is accidental, since it corresponds to a plan, the
phases and fundamental instruments of which are accurately described in the Protocols.“
Thus,
he focuses wholly on the question of whether or not there has been a worldly political conspiracy
behind the world’s calamities. He produces a fairly convincing case that there
has been, but avoids the cliché of placing blame on „the Jews“ and „Masonry.“
Rather, he surmises that these groups themselves may have been used by a more
concealed source.
Evola
also considers carefully the various instruments by which „occult war“ appears
to be waged: „scientific suggestion and positivist propaganda, the tactic of
replacement, the tactic of counterfeits,“ the encouragement of a useless
traditionalism (the tares and chaff of Tradition), the tactic of inversion, the
tactic of ricochet, the scapegoat tactic, the tactic of deliberate
misidentification of a principle with its representative and the tactic of
replacement infiltrations (in „shell-like“ organizations which have, as it
were, lost their soul and so can become possessed by alien forces).
Evola
sensibly warns us against quixotic gallantries in this dangerous situation.
„Those
movements of the past that intended to react against and stem the currents of
national, social and moral dissolution [...] often upheld
dangerously unilateral positions, due to the lack of adequate discernment; this
was a weakness that [...] played into the enemy’s hands.“
He
concludes this chapter by adding:
„There
is little hope that anything may be saved when among the leaders of a new
movement there are no men capable of integrating the material struggle with a
secret and inexorable knowledge, one that [...] stands [...] on the side of the luminous principle of traditional
spirituality.“
The Roman Ideal
Related
to Evola’s discussion of the need for a choice of traditions within a nation’s
history is his comparison of the two dominant temperaments within the Italian
soul: the Roman and the Mediterranean. A discussion interesting in itself, it
also suggests that the Australian Right may need to undertake a comparable
analysis of the Australian soul.
Evola
begins by presenting two unexpected historical perspectives. He first argues
that the „heroic-sacred“ world of early Rome and Sparta „was not perpetuated in
the following ‘Classical’ civilization, from which, in turn, the ‘Latin spirit’
and the doctrine of the ‘unity of the peoples of Latin civilization’ derived.“
Next,
he replaces the „democratic“ image of the Axis pact between Italy and Germany
(a little clown joining a big devil) with a much more dignified interpretation.
Arguing that Germany retained aspects of the „heroic-sacred“ world longer than
Greece or Italy, he suggests that the Axis could have spiritually strengthened
both peoples with a „reciprocal integration,“ if it had not been sabotaged –
partly by elements in Italy itself, even Fascist cadres misled by the myth of
the Risorgimento.
Evola’s
depiction of „the original Roman spirit“ deserves to be quoted at length, since
it clearly reflects his own personal ideal and the temperament which gave him
his perspective on life. Australians might be wise to draw up a similar
inventory of „the British spirit“ as the better part of their own national
soul.
Evola
saw the Roman spirit as based on a human type characterized by „self-control,
an enlightened boldness, a concise speech and determined and coherent conduct,
and a cold, dominating attitude exempt from personalism and vanity.
„To
this Roman style belong virtus, in the
sense not of moralism, but of virile spirit and courage; fortitudo
and constantia, namely spiritual strength;
sapientia, in the sense of thoughtfulness
and awareness; disciplina, understood as
love for a self-given law and form; fides,
in the specifically Roman sense of loyalty and faithfulness; and dignitas, which in the ancient patrician society
became gravitas and solemnitas,
a studied and moderate seriousness.“
The Roman spirit preferred
„deliberate
actions, without grand gestures, a realism that is [...]
love for the essential [...], clarity [...],
an inner equilibrium and a healthy suspicion of every confused form of
mysticism; a love for boundaries; the readiness to unite, as free human beings
and without losing one’s identity, in view of a higher goal or for an idea [...]; religio and pietas, which [...]
signify an attitude of respectful and dignified veneration for the gods and [...] of trust and re-connection with the supernatural, which
was experienced as omnipresent and effective.“
By
contrast, Evola characterized the Mediterranean style much less favorably,
seeing it as consisting of
„love
for outward appearances and grand gestures; concern to be noticed by others and
to make an impact on them; the choreographic-theatrical and spectacular,
comparable to the French grandeur and gloire; the tendency toward a restless,
chaotic and undisciplined individualism; intolerance of any general and strict
law of order; the fireworks of a creativity disjoined from any higher meaning
and tradition; the pseudo-genial hypercritic, expert in eluding a law; the
cunning and malicious fooler of others; a gesticulating, noisy and disordered
exuberance; a manic effusiveness; excitability and verbosity; a flaunted and
conventional sense of honour; immediacy of desire or affection; and a public
cheeriness masking an inner hopelessness.“
There
is an element of caricature, of course, in this comparison of two poles; and
Evola’s „ideal Roman“ is not the only fruitful way of being human: it is not a
universal requirement of man. Nevertheless, Evola’s discussion can alert us to
the ways in which propagandists and agitators promote various stereotypes of „the
typical Australian „ or „the Aussie bloke and Sheila“[59]
which may, in fact, be inadequately attuned to reality as well as
psychosocially demeaning. The Australian Right needs to determine its own modes
of „the ideal Australian character,“ based on scrupulous examination of our
history and culture; and to promote these coolly and calmly in the public
forums.
As
Evola also noted, there is no need to suppress passion; rather, we should heed
Nietzsche’s warning „against every morality that tends to dry up every
impetuous current of the human soul instead of channeling it.“[60]
What matters is „to organize one’s being in an integral way around the
capability of recognizing, discriminating and adequately utilizing the impulses
and the lights that emerge from one’s deep recesses.“
For
Evola, the „myth of Rome“ was Italy’s most desirable model. „In the rectifying
and formative action the key role will always be played by the political myth
[...] a galvanizing idea-force. The myth reacts on the environment, implementing
the law of elective affinities: it awakens, frees and imposes those
possibilities of single individuals and the environment to which they
correspond.“
Sex and Population
Evola
believes in the need for humanity to control the world’s population growth.
„Overpopulation
exacerbates the problem of how to employ the workforces; it also unavoidably
intensifies production processes, which in turn, due to their determinisms,
strengthen the demonic nature of the economy. The result is the increasing
enslavement of the individual and the reduction of free space and of any
autonomous movement in modern cities.“
Evola
also mentions the „congestion that in turn produces critical international
solutions,“ a theme that Jean Raspail later took up in his novel The Camp of the Saints[61] and a reality that now poses headaches for the
Australian Government as regards immigration policy.
Evola
takes up a number of controversial and uncompromising positions. In the first
place, he endorses the view that some peoples are superior to others and that
the political order of the State should appropriately reflect this.
„Every
true empire is born from a race of conquerors who overcame lands and peoples [...] on the basis of a higher calling and qualification, which
allowed them to rule as a minority in foreign lands [...]
the Romans, the Achaemenids, the Franks, the Spaniards, the early Islamic hosts
and the British.“
In
the second place, he rejects as outdated and in fact immoral the Catholic
religion’s embrace of the biblical principle of the multiplication of the human
species and the Church teaching that sexual union and marriage are legitimate
and sanctified only when they are aimed at procreation.
Evola
acknowledges the good sense of a Vatican II declaration that love, too, may be
a legitimate foundation of marriage. In referring also to the libertine, „who
elevates pleasure to an art,“ and the Dionysianism „that in antiquity enjoyed a
religious sanction,“ Evola clearly insists that birth control measures should
be widely employed so that sexual satisfaction of various intensities can be
obtained without worsening the population problem.
A
third controversial position (very personal to Evola himself) concerns the
identification of „the cult of children“ with the bourgeois spirit. Evola calls
for men to join the revolutionary-conservative movement who should almost look
upon creating a family as a betrayal of the cause. He perhaps mistakes a
personal preference for an ideal. Such men are not necessarily to be ascetics.
„I
believe that in the personal domain the right to an ample degree of sexual
freedom for these men (the warriors) should be acknowledged, against moralism,
social conformism and ‘heroism in slippers’.“
A
degree of personal feeling has clearly entered the discourse here, confirmed by
Evola’s approving quotation of Nietzsche’s infamous dictum that „man should be
trained for war and woman for the recreation (or rest) of the warrior.“
At
the same time Evola must be commended for his courage and frankness in tackling
such difficult subjects in defiance of taboos old or new. The Australian Right
will need to show similar integrity in determining policy on immigration and
population issues for our future.
A True European Union
Evola’s
last chapter considers the daunting task of bringing about a united Europe in
accordance with the principles of Tradition. This is of great interest in a
time when a quite different kind of European Union is being more or less forced
on the peoples of the traditional European nations; and when Britain is moving
towards its fateful referendum on whether or not to accept the Euro as its unit
of currency.
Evola
begins by outlining the organic
character that his ideal Europe would possess.
„Fatherlands
and nations may exist. [...] What should be excluded are
nationalism, imperialism, chauvinism – every fanatical absolutization of a
particular unit.“
Such
a European Empire
would safeguard the principles of both unity and multiplicity.
„Individual
states would have the character of partial organic units, gravitating around a
one that is not a part.“
Transcending
the political sphere would be an idea, a tradition and a spiritual power.
„The
limitations of the sovereignty of the single national units before an eminent
right of the Empire will have as their sole condition this transcendental
dignity of the Empire [...] an organism composed of
organisms.“
Thus,
„the elementary presupposition of an eventual united Europe appears to be the
political integration of the single nations.“ A healthy whole cannot be made up
of unhealthy parts.
In
such integrated nations, quite different from the current bourgeois
democracies, the elites of each nation „could understand one another and
co-ordinate their work,“ rather in the manner of the royal houses and their
supporting aristocracies in the Old Europe.
Evola
does not fudge the „disheartening magnitude“ of the task, which seems almost
utopian. He notes that the problem of finding a spiritual foundation for such a
European Empire is quite unresolved. Neither Catholicism nor „a generic
Christianity“ (which would be too weak and diffuse) would serve the purpose.
Moreover, Europeans have largely lost contact with the highest meaning of
Europe itself; and „European tradition“ and „European culture“ are too confused
and too contaminated by false ideas.
Evola
is aware that the „general leveling of cultures“ of the world has been used as
an argument by those „who do not want a united Europe but rather a unified
world, in a supernational organization or World Government.“ Today’s European
Union, brought about by massive deceit in recent decades, is perhaps a step in
that direction. It would, of course, lead to an anti-traditional world in which
the majority of human beings would be drugged and driven serfs.
Evola
adds that „a radical European action finds its major obstacle in the lack of
something that could represent a starting point, a firm support and a centre of
crystallization.“ He proposes the creation of an Order whose members would work
in the right direction in the various nations.
Such
an order could include members of ancient European families, warrior types
(especially those trained in elite combat units) and other persons in whom a
distaste for „the modern disaster“ has aroused a yearning for a traditional
political order, together with the will and character to strive for it.
„The
personality of an authentic leader at the centre and head of the Order is of
the utmost importance.“
No
such person was visible to Evola in Europe as he wrote those words. For members
of the Australian Right, this chapter reminds us of the kind of political order
in Australia towards which we should work, together with the attendant
difficulties. To date it seems that no suitable leader arose during the five
decades after the Japanese collapse; but perhaps that reflects the fact that
individuals and groups on the Australian Right lacked the wisdom and
understanding to create the necessary atmosphere in which such a leader could
appear and act.
Envoi
The
most arresting question to be asked of Evola is whether or not he ever wrote as
an initiate, as an awakened
man, as a brahmin. Judging by Men
Among the Ruins, I believe the answer to be no.
A
not altogether friendly critic of Evola, Richard Drake, in Chapter 7 („Children
of the Sun“) of his Revolutionary
Mystique and Terrorism in Contemporary Italy (Indiana University
Press) has written of Evola’s period of magical studies with the Ur group in
the 1920’s as follows: „Evola proposed a philosophy of utter wakefulness and
vigilance on this plane of existence, the only one with which he was seriously
concerned.“ This was after
Evola had left the Ur group.
And
Dr H. T. Hansen, in „A Short Introduction to Julius Evola“ published in Theosophical History noted
of Evola: „Since he does not regard himself as master, he can recognize no
student.“
Evola’s
behavior in 1945 is also inconsonant with that of a wise initiate. Hansen
reported:
„During
air attacks, Evola had the habit of not going to the bomb shelters but instead
went on working in his office or walked about the streets of Vienna. He wanted,
as he said, ‘calmly to question his fate.’“
In
fact it was foolish negligence – and he suffered terribly for it.
Robin
Waterfield, the biographer of Guénon, published „Baron Julius Evola and the
Hermetic Tradition“ in Gnosis
Magazine. About the Ur phase, he tersely commented:
„Their
attempts to form a ‘magical chain’ in order to exercise supernatural influence
on others were soon abandoned.“
Waterfield
felt that Evola had, however, performed a service by bringing back to European
attention the concept of theosis,
personal deification – that level of attainment known as jivanmukta in Hinduism, „the
superior person“ in Chinese tradition, „the liberated one“ in Buddhism and the
saint or sage in Christian tradition.
„This
notion has been fiercely opposed by the hierarchical Christian Church, whose
clergy have seen unmediated access to divine grace as a threat to their
influence and power.“
They
have also, of course, found it at odds with the Pauline doctrine of the „one
atonement“ by the blood of the crucified Jesus.
In
my view Evola is a man of very similar character and achievements to the great
Russian writer P. D. Ouspensky (1878-1947), who searched diligently (or thought
he did) for a school of initiation, but never succeeded in becoming initiated.[62] There seems to have been a degree of gloom at the end of
each man’s life, the gloom of hamartia,
of having had one’s arrow fall short of the target. Yet, in the world of us
ordinary men, the unawakened, each of these writers is a towering figure of
integrity, independent thought and intellectual achievement.
Their
work has to be read critically,
however. British psychiatrist and devotee of the Cathar tradition, Dr. Arthur
Guirdham,[63] would surely have diagnosed each man as a
typical modern obsessive. Obsession is indeed a psychological failing, but it
can drive its victims to lifetimes of intense labor and magnificent
achievements. In my case, my main criticism of Evola is his undue depreciation
of the feminine side of human nature, his unfair identification of femininity
with the will-to-sleep, to give up the struggle to achieve wisdom. Evola
appears to me to have been a very highly strung person; and his adherence to a „path
of virility“ was a means by which he kept his own nature from collapsing. It
was a noble path, but it is not the only path.
Further Reading
Books
by Julius Evola available in English and published by Inner Traditions,
Rochester, Vermont, USA, unless otherwise indicated, are:
Eros and the Mysteries of Love (1983)
The Yoga of Power (1992)
Revolt against the Modern World (1995)
The Hermetic Tradition (1995)
The Doctrine of Awakening (1996)
Meditation on the Peaks (Feral House) (1997)
The Mystery of the Grail (1997)
Introduction to Magic (2001)
Men among the Ruins (2002)
The Author
Nigel Jackson was born on September 4, 1939, in
Melbourne, Australia. He holds a Master of Arts degree in English from the
University of Melbourne and has been a secondary school teacher for thirty-five
years. He published four books of poetry in the 1970’s and The Case for David Irving
in 1994. For two decades he has publicly defended the principle of intellectual
freedom and, consequently, the right of revisionist historians to publish in
national forums without defamation, harassment or punishment. This
review-article on Julius Evola’s Men
Among the Ruins was accepted for publication in three parts by the
Australian New Dawn Magazine
and the first part appeared in its September-October 2002 edition.
Mysteriously, the other parts never appeared and the magazine was deaf to
several letters of enquiry by the author.
Notes
Russell Kirk, The Conservative Mind,
Faber, London, 1954.
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Eric
Voegelin, The New Science
of Politics, University of Chicago Press, USA, 1966.
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George
Hannan was a Liberal Party Senator in the Australian Parliament from 1956 to
1964 and 1970 to 1974. A staunch Catholic and politically conservative, he
endeavoured to form his own party in 1974, after being deprived of party
preselection.
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Graham
Campbell was the Australian Labour Party Member for Kalgoorlie in the House
of Representatives of the Australian Parliament from 1980 to 1995 and then
held his seat as an Independent from 1995 to 1999. Uncorrupt, outspoken and
fearless, he made many admirable public statements that disconcerted both
major parties, such as his open criticism of the Zionist Jewish lobby for its
attack on free speech during the parliamentary debate on the 1994 Racial
Hatred Bill. See Graham Campbell and Mark Uhlmann, Australia Betrayed,
Foundation Press, 65 Oats Street, Carlisle, Western Australia 6101,
Australia, 1995.
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Pauline
Hanson was an Independent Member for Ipswich in the House of Representatives
of the Australian Parliament from 1996 to 1998. She was a frank but
simplistic populist who espoused some politically incorrect policies of a
generally old-fashioned conservative nature, especially concerning
nationalism (as opposed to globalism), immigration and Aboriginal affairs.
She formed the One Nation Party, which attracted a moderately substantial
protest vote for a few years.
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Giuseppe di Lampedusa, The Leopard, Fontana,
London, 1984.
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Oswald
Spengler, Decline and Fall
of the West (2 vols.), Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1986.
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The Tao Te Ching, Unwin,
London, 1985.
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René Guénon,
The Crisis of the Modern
World, Luzac, London, 1942.
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Nikos
Kazantzakis, Zorba the
Greek, Faber, London, 1977.
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The
Perennialists include René Guénon, Ananda Coomaraswamy, Frithjof Schuon,
Titus Burckhardt, Martin Lings, Marco Pallis and Leo Schaya. See, inter alia,
Jacob Needleman (ed), The
Sword of Gnosis, Arkana, London, 1986, which contains an
anthology of their writings, and Martin Lings, The Eleventh Hour, Quinta Essentia,
Cambridge, 1987, which lists the majority of their important publications.
Aldous Huxley wrote a study of Traditionalism in his The Perennial Philosophy,
Chatto and Windus, London, 1946.
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Gustave Le
Bon, The Crowd,
Penguin, London, 1977. See also Ortega Y Gasset, Revolt of the Masses, Unwin, London, 1972.
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Robert
Graves, The White Goddess,
Faber, London, 1961.
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Starhawk, The Spiral Dance, Harper
and Row, New York, 1979.
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The Bhagavad Gita, ed.
Radhakrishnan, Allen and Unwin, London, 1960.
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World
Conquest through World Government – The Protocols of the Learned Elders of
Zion, ed. Victor Marsden, Britons, UK, 1972.
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On Corneliu
Codreanu see Prince Michael Sturdza, The
Suicide of Europe, Western Islands, Boston, USA, 1968, pp. 31-41.
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T. S. Eliot,
The Sacred Wood,
1920, repr. Methuen, London, 1960; The
Idea of a Christian Society, 1939, repr. Faber, London, 1954; Notes Towards the Definition of
Culture, 1948, repr. Faber, London, 1962; On Poetry and Poets,
1957, repr. Faber, London, 1961.
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In Selected Essays, 1932,
repr. Faber, London, 1958.
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On 1 January
1901 Australia became a federation, the six self-governing colonies into
which the continent had previously been divided becoming States of an „indissoluble
Federal Commonwealth.“
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Founded in
1957, the National Civic Council grew out of the earlier „Movement“ which had
been largely sponsored by elements in the Catholic Church as a means to
diminish Communist influence in Australia’s trades unions. Its president, B.
A. Santamaria, one of Australia’s most distinguished intellectuals and
political commentators, died in 1998. See his books: The Price of Freedom,
The Hawthorn Press, Melbourne, 1964; Point
of View, The Hawthorn Press, Melbourne, 1969; and Against the Tide, Oxford
University Press, Melbourne, 1981.
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National
Action was a small political movement, based partly on the political
philosophy of the Spanish Falangist and Catholic Jose Primo de Rivera. It was
republican, hostile to non-European immigration and prone to provocative
public demonstrations. In the 1990’s its chief spokesman was Michael Brander.
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The
Australian League of Rights was founded in 1960 and grew out of earlier state
leagues founded to oppose federal nationalisation of banking. Its first
national director, Eric D. Butler, was a convert to the Social Credit
philosophy of Major Clifford Douglas (1879-1952). The League’s program is
Christian, royalist and pro-British. Like Douglas himself, it has been
critical of Zionist Jewish influence in modern politics. Regularly defamed in
the media and by politicians of all major parties, it has struggled to avoid
pariah status. See Clifford H. Douglas, Social
Credit, Institute of Economic Democracy, Vancouver, Canada, 1979;
The Brief for the
Prosecution, Veritas, Western Australia, 1983; and The Development of World Dominion,
KRP Publications, London, 1969.
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On the
important topic of castes see Frithjof Schuon, Castes and Races, Perennial Books, UK,
1981.
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Maurice
Nicoll, Living Time,
Vincent Stuart, London, 1961, p 123; Frithjof Schuon, Understanding Islam,
1963, repr. Unwin, London, 1981, pp 71-78.
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On Chinese
tradition see René Guénon, The
Great Triad, Quinta Essentia, Cambridge, UK, 1991.
|
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Aldous
Huxley, Brave New World,
Penguin, London, 1975.
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On ancient
Egyptian culture see the works of René Schwaller de Lubicz, including The Temple in Man, Inner
Traditions, USA, 1981.
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Ronald
Conway, The Great
Australian Stupor, Sun Books, Melbourne, 1971; Land of the Long Weekend,
Sun Books, Melbourne, 1978.
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Gordon
Rattray Taylor, Sex in
History, Thames and Hudson, London, 1953.
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See I. C. F.
Spry, QC, „The Hypocrisy of Aboriginal Claims,“ National Observer (PO Box 751, North
Melbourne, Victoria 3051, Australia), No. 45, Winter 2000, pp 6-10. Dr Spry
writes, inter alia: „The regrettable and pervasive dishonesty of the
Aboriginal lobby can now be seen almost every day in newspaper reports. The
so-called ‘stolen generation’ claims provide regular examples. [...the lobby]
is continuing to promote extreme results under the guise of ‘reconciliation’.
In effect, the approach is to say ‘we should be „reconciled“ with you’ but ‘we
will be reconciled only if you provide us with all that we demand, including
(and especially) large amounts of money, a treaty favouring us and so on...“
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J. R. R.
Tolkien, The Hobbit,
Unwin, London, 1995; The
Lord of the Rings, Harper Collins, London, 1992.
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Terry
Goodkind, Wizard’s First
Rule, Gollancz, London, 2001, is the first of the series.
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Russell
Kirk, Enemies of the
Permanent Things, Arlington House, New York, 1969, pp 109-124.
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See Nigel
Jackson, „The Queen’s Justice and the International Criminal Court“ (speech
to the Australian League of Rights National Seminar, October 2002), M. E. A.,
PO Box 248, East Caulfield, Victoria 3145, Australia.
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See Mouni
Sadhu, In Days of Great
Peace, Allen and Unwin, London, 1952.
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See Martin
Lings, A Sufi Saint of the
Twentieth Century – Shaykh Ahmad-al-Alawi, Allen and Unwin,
London, 1973.
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On the
French Revolution see Nesta Webster, The
French Revolution, 1919, repr. Christian Book Club of America,
Hawthorne, CA 90250, USA, 1969; World
Revolution, 1921, repr. Britons, UK, 1971, pp 13-93; and Spacious Days, Hutchinson,
London, 1949, pp 185-191.
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On
communism/bolshevism see P. D. Ouspensky, In
Search of the Miraculous, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1950,
pp 344-345; Letters from
Russia 1919, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1978.
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George
Orwell, Animal Farm,
Penguin, London, 1989; Nineteen
Eighty-four, Penguin, London, 1975.
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Alexander
Solzhenitsyn, The Red
Wheel, comprising (to date) August
1914, The Bodley Head, London, 1989, and November 1916, Jonathan
Cape, London, 1999. Two further volumes in the series are to follow.
|
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See Pieter
Geyl, Napoleon: For and
Against, 1949, repr. Peregrine Books, London, 1965.
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Paul
Keating, an ardent republican of Irish extraction, was Prime Minister of
Australia and Leader of the Australian Labour Party from 1991 to 1996.
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Sir William
Deane was a Justice of the High Court of Australia from 1982 to 1995 and
Governor-General of Australia from 1996 to 2001. During his vice-regal phase
he politicised the office of Governor-General in an unprecedented manner,
expressing left-liberal views on sensitive topics such as Aboriginal affairs
and immigration.
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On metanoia, often
mistranslated as „repentance,“ see Maurice Nicoll, The Mark, Robinson and
Watkins, London, 1973, p 207.
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On Dr
Salazar see Hugh Kay, Salazar
and Modern Portugal, Eyre and Spottiswoode, London, 1968. Also
recommended are the books by his Ambassador to the United Nations and Foreign
Minister, Dr Franco Nogueira, Portugal
and the United Nations, Sidgwick and Jackson, London, 1961, and The Third World,
Johnson, London, 1967.
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Sir Walter
Scott, Quentin Durward,
Collins, London, 1951; Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Sir Nigel, Wordsworth, UK, 1994.
|
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Ernst
Jünger, The Storm of Steel,
Chatto and Windus, London, 1929, repr. 1942.
|
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Martin Boyd
(Australian novelist, 1893-1972), The
Cardboard Crown, Penguin, Melbourne, 1984; A Difficult Young Man,
Penguin, Melbourne, 1988; Outbreak
of Love, Lansdowne Press, Melbourne, 1976; When Blackbirds Sing,
Lansdowne Press, Melbourne, 1972.
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On George
Ivanovich Gurdjieff (1877?-1949) see James Moore, Gurdjieff, Element, UK, 1991.
|
|
See Robin
Waterfield, René Guénon
and the Future of the West, Aquarian Press, London, 1987.
|
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Frithjof
Schuon, The Transcendent
Unity of Religions, Theosophical Publishing House, USA, 1984.
|
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James
McAuley (Australian poet and Catholic intellectual), The End of Modernity,
Angus and Robertson, Sydney, 1959, pp 8 -16; Monk Damascene Christensen
(Russian Orthodox priest), Not
of This World, Father Seraphim Rose Foundation, PO Box 1656,
Forestville, CA 95436, USA, 1997, pp 60-84 and 997-999.
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See Robin
Waterfield, op. cit.
(note 51), pp 130-131 and René
Guénon, The Lord of the World,
Coombe Springs Press, UK, 1983.
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Idries Shah,
The Sufis,
Star Books, London, 1977; „The King’s Hawk and the Owls,“ in The Hundred Tales of Wisdom,
Octagon Press, London, 1978.
|
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See P. D.
Ouspensky, „Christianity and the New Testament“ in A New Model of the Universe,
Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner, Co. Ltd., London, 1931, repr 1938.
|
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Albert
Camus, The Outsider,
Penguin, London, 1974; The
Plague, Penguin, London, 1976.
|
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René Guénon, The Reign of Quantity and the Signs
of the Times, Sophia Perennis, New York, 1995, Chapters 30, 36,
38 and 39.
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Sheila is a
colloquial Australian term for a girl or woman, probably derived from
Ireland, where feminine carvings from ancient times, known as
shelagh-na-gigs, are common.
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Friedrich
Nietzsche, Thus Spake
Zarathustra, Penguin, London, 1961. See also Martin Heidegger, Nietzsche (2 vols.),
Harper San Francisco, USA, 1991.
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Jean
Raspail, The Camp of the
Saints, Ace Books, Grosset and Dunlap, New York, 1977.
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P.D.
Ouspensky, op. cit.
(notes 39, 56), and Tertium
Organum: The Third Canon of Thought, 1921, repr. Routledge and
Kegan Paul, London, 1957; The
Fourth Way, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1957; Talks with a Devil,
Turnstone Press, London, 1972.
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Arthur
Guirdham, Obsession,
Neville Spearman, London, 1972.
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