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samedi, 03 décembre 2011

Evola frente al fatalismo

Evola frente al fatalismo

Eduard Alcántara

Ex: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/

 

INTRODUCCIÓN

Retrato de Julius Evola.jpgUna rígida interpretación de la Doctrina de las 4 Edades podría comportar predeterminismo atentatorio contra el principio Tradicional de la Libertad inalienable del Hombre Reintegrado a su esencia metafísica. Julius Evola mostró esa especial y añadida dosis de ´sensibilidad´ y de poder de interpretación que le posibilitaron el no estancarse en una visión rígida de los diferentes textos Sapienciales y Sagrados del mundo de la Tradición cuando éstos nos hablan de la doctrina de Las Cuatro Edades, pues el proceso de decadencia que ésta nos expone no es irreversible ni está impregnado de un fatalismo contra el que nada pueda oponer el Hombre. El maestro italiano le dio una especial relevancia a la idea de que la involución podía ser frenada e incluso eliminada antes de que aconteciera el final de un ciclo cósmico; esto es, antes del ocaso del kali-yuga. Y sostuvo firme y ocurrentemente esta idea porque creía en la libertad absoluta del Hombre. Porque creía que el Hombre -así en mayúscula-, aparte de tener la clara potestad necesaria para conseguir su total Despertar interior, también tenía en sus manos la posibilidad de devolver a sus escindidas y desacralizadas comunidades los atributos y la esencia que siempre fueron propios del Mundo Tradicional. Porque Evola creía, en definitiva, en el Hombre Superior o Absoluto, Señor de sí mismo. Igualmente creía que la pasividad fatalista del hombre podría prolongar el fin de una etapa. Para los tiempos crepusculares Evola barajaba la posibilidad de acelerar el fin del kali-yuga cabalgando el tigre: acelerando los procesos disolventes que se dan en estos tiempos deletéreos.

DESARROLLO

A la pregunta de ¿qué tipo de hombre es el que puede aspirar a su Reintegración interior y a encauzar a su comunidad por el camino de la Tradición?, se debe responder que no es otro que aquél que es capaz de dominarse a sí mismo, de autogobernarse y (echando mano del taoísmo) de ´ser señor de sí mismo´. Sólo el autarca, del que nos había hablado Evola durante los años ´20 del pasado siglo -durante la que ha sido definida como su etapa filosófica (que ya apuntaba claramente hacia su definitiva etapa Tradicionalista)-, sólo, decíamos, el autarca que no depende del otro, de lo otro, del exterior ni del tú porque no hay circunstancia, ni condicionamiento externo a él, que lo pueda mediatizar y hacer dependiente, sólo él puede, tras haber conseguido gobernarse a sí mismo, ser apto para gobernar a su comunidad. Hablamos, en definitiva, del Iniciado: de aquél que se empezó sometiendo a rigurosos, metódicos y arduos ejercicios/prácticas de autocontrol y descondicionamiento frente a lo exterior (acabamos de hacer alusión a ello) e interno (con respecto a emociones, sentimientos exacerbados, pulsiones e instintos primarios) y que, tras lo cual, ha preparado su alma/mente, en primera instancia, para que sea apta para captar otras realidades (sutiles) que se hallan más allá de las que pueden aprehender los sentidos y para que, más tarde (y tras este último y difícil logro) pueda, asimismo, llegar al Conocimiento de Aquello que se halla más allá, incluso, del mundo sutil y, en definitiva, de cualquier modo de manifestación y que se encuentra, además, en el origen del cosmos. Hablamos, pues, del Conocimiento del Principio Primero o Supremo Eterno, Incondicionado e Indefinible y, hablamos, por otro lado, de la Identificación ontológica del Iniciado con dicho Principio.

El iniciado o (echando mano del léxico budista) Despertado plasmará en sí la Imperturbabilidad del Principio Primero que ha desarrollado en su interior y dicha Imperturbabilidad e Identificación con lo Permanente y Eterno le hará inmune a cualquier tentación hacia lo caduco y superfluo y le hará, por ende, idóneo para dirigir a su comunidad hacia las metas que enfocan hacia lo Alto, Sacro, Estable y Permanente y le alejarán de cualquier veleidad que tienda hacia lo bajo, lo materialista, lo transitorio, lo inestable y lo perecedero.

¿Es posible que se afirme este tipo de Hombre Superior en medio del marasmo vermicular y disoluto por el que discurre el hombre del mundo moderno? ¿Es posible esto en el cenagal de la etapa crepuscular de la Edad oscura –Kali-yuga o Edad de Hierro- por la que atravesamos? El Tradicionalismo, especialmente en boca de Julius Evola, nos responde afirmativamente, aun consciente de lo enormemente complicado que puede resultar. Pero complicado no equivale a imposible. No existe nada imposible para el hombre que se lo proponga. El hombre que opta transitar por las vías de la Tradición no encuentra fatalismos: no encuentra determinismos que no pueda superar.

Para la Tradición el Hombre Absoluto e Integrado no es una quimera, sino, al contrario, una posibilidad que alberga el hombre y que ha pasado de potencia a acto. Si es posible Despertar la semilla de la Eternidad que anida en nuestro fuero es porque la Tradición concibe que somos portadores de ella. Si es posible Espiritualizar nuestra alma, psyché o mens es porque el Espíritu, atman o nous (eso sí, en forma aletargada) también se halla en nosotros gracias a que procedemos, por emanación, del Principio Primero cuya manifestación dio lugar a la formación del cosmos. Somos, pues, portadores de dicho Principio Superior e Imperecedero del que emanamos y tenemos la posibilidad de emprender la tarea heroica de Despertarlo en nuestro interior.

Si el emanacionismo o emanatismo como certidumbre defendida por la Tradición abre las puertas a la consecución del Hombre Reintegrado no ocurre lo mismo con las creencias propias de religiosidades que han de ser enmarcadas en la cuesta abajo propia del mundo moderno. Religiosidades de corte lunar que no conciben el que el hombre comparta esencia ( ni aunque sea en estado quasi larvario que deba ser activada) con el Principio Supremo sino que, por el contrario, afirman que el hombre fue creado (creacionismo) ex nihilo (de la nada) por Dios y que, al no emanar de Él, no comparte nada de Su divinidad. No admiten, por tanto, la Iniciación y la consecuente posibilidad del hombre de transmutarse interiormente (metanoia) y aspirar a Ser Más que hombre: a ser Hombre Trascendente.

Las religiosidades de tipo lunar están por el creacionismo, pues de la misma manera que la luna carece de luz propia y la luminosidad que de ella nos llega no es más que un reflejo de la solar, de la misma manera, decíamos, en este tipo de religiosidad no nos arriba de lo Alto más que un reflejo o aproximación mental que no es otro que el aportado por la única herramienta de encaro del hecho Trascendente que la religiosidad lunar pone al alcance del hombre: la simple fe, la creencia y la devoción. Por lo cual niega la posibilidad de la Gnosis de lo Absoluto y la posibilidad del hombre de llegar a Ser uno con la dicha Trascendencia. Y la niega, repetimos, aduciendo que el hombre no comparte esencia con lo Trascendente y no puede, pues, actualizarlo en sí; aduciéndolo, recuérdese, por sostener que no emana de Él y que en la naturaleza de dicho hombre no se esconde el Espíritu en potencia.

La convicción Tradicional del hombre como portador de Atman o Espíritu hace concebir la esperanza de su Despertar y del heroico cometido de aspirar a culminar la Restauración del Orden Tradicional mediante lo que, etimológicamente, comporta la auténtica Revolución, en el sentido de Re-volvere; esto es, de volver a recuperar la cosmovisión, los principios y los valores que siempre han caracterizado al Mundo Tradicional y que se hallan en las antípodas de la desacralización, del materialismo, del positivismo, del hedonismo, del consumismo y del gregarismo despersonalizado propios de este mundo moderno.

Por el contrario, el hombre concebido por las religiones lunares-creacionistas (aparte de no ser apto para emprender intentos de Restauración de la Tradición) será la antesala de posteriores procesos de decadencia aun mayores, pues al habérsele amputado su dimensión sacro-espiritual se le ha rebajado de nivel ontológico. Ya no podrá entender más sobre lo Trascendente, tal como en la Tradición sí le era posible gracias a lo que él poseía de más que humano; de Sobrehumano, diríamos. Sin Espíritu únicamente le queda el alma, la psyqué o mens para vivir “en orden” con su/s dios/es. Es decir, que ya sólo cuenta con medios meramente humanos para mirar a lo divino y que no son otros que aquéllos que su mente pone a su disposición, a través de la fe y la creencia. Por esto habrá de contentarse con no ser más que un fiel devoto de su/s divinidad/es. E irremediablemente cuando el hombre ha sido obligado a descender a este plano –sin más- humano, cuando la mente ocupa la cúpula en su jerarquía constitutiva, nadie podrá extrañarse que la facultad racional que en ella (en la mente) se halla inmersa se atrofie y pueda dudar de la existencia de cualquier realidad no sensible; como lo es una Realidad Trascendente (más que humana) que no podrá aprehender con sus tan solo humanas herramientas (el método discursivo, el especulativo,…). Nos hallaremos, pues, en los albores del racionalismo, del posterior relativismo para el que no existen Verdades Absolutas y todo plano de la realidad (aun el Superior) puede ser cuestionado y nos hallaremos asimismo, como consecución lógica posterior, en la antesala del agnosticismo y del materialismo.

Las religiosidades de carácter lunar, propias del mundo moderno, fueron segregando un tipo de hombre inclinado, irremisiblemente, a posturas evasionistas con respecto a la posibilidad de búsqueda del Espíritu y con respecto a la posibilidad de actuar sobre el medio circundante con la intención de modificarlo y, más aun, rectificarlo. Frente a ellas se alza un tipo de Espiritualidad Solar y activa (la Tradicional) para la que el fatalismo no existe y para la que el hombre debe trazar su camino (recordando una adecuada imagen aportada por el mismo Evola) tal cual el río circula por el cauce que él mismo ha socavado.

Si el creacionismo excreta un hiato ontológico insalvable entre Creador y criaturas no debe extrañar que de religiones que a esta convicción se adhieren (como las conocidas como religiones del Libro) surgiera un maniqueísmo que dejó, de manera extrema, sin solución de continuidad a Dios y al hombre y que estimó como creaciones del Mal todo el contenido de la manifestación cósmica. Tal aconteció con excrecencias como el catarismo que despreciaban al cuerpo en particular y al mundo físico en general por considerarlos obras del ángel rebelde y caído (Lucifer) y no, como sí consideró siempre la Tradición, como emanaciones del Principio Primero Inmanifestado. El Mundo Tradicional observó y trató siempre al cuerpo humano como el templo del Espíritu, mientras que, p. ej., el judeocristianismo lo contempló como la mazmorra que impedía la liberación del alma (entiéndase, del Espíritu); asimismo la vida terrenal en la que este encarcelamiento tenía lugar la definió como un valle de lágrimas.

Las también conocidas como Religiones del Desierto no conciben la posibilidad del Retorno de la Tradición gracias al accionar del Hombre, pues para ellas el hombre no atesora semilla divina que poder despertar y poderle, así, hacerle apto para revertir los procesos disolventes por los que pueda atravesar el mundo que le circunda, sino que estas Religiones del Desierto provocan una espera pasiva ante el fin de los tiempos, ante la venida de un Salvador o Mesías o ante la Parusía (la vuelta de Cristo) para que la humanidad pueda ser salvada, suba a los cielos, reciba el premio del Paraíso Terrenal (la Tierra Prometida) o para que acontezca la resurrección de la carne.

En la misma línea –y como fiel reflejo de estas Religiones del Libro- el protestantismo representa una vuelta de tuerca más y un intento de corrección de un catolicismo que había adoptado muchas improntas y posturas de espiritualidades precristianas que se situaban muy en la órbita de la Tradición. El protestantismo afirma que es la fe y no las obras las que permiten la Salvación. De este modo cierra las puertas a cualquier aspiración a la Transustanciación de la persona mediante la acción interior (Iniciación), pues accionar no es más que obrar.

El catolicismo o helenocristianismo (opuesto al judeocristianismo) se hallaría en una situación de superioridad frente a otra de las Religiones del Libro como lo es el islamismo, ya que el concepto trinitario defendido por el primero reconoce la posibilidad de divinización del hombre (su palingénesis o segundo nacimiento: a la Realidad del Espíritu) al considerar a la divinidad también en su expresión humana de Hijo. Nada de esto ocurre con (en palabras de Marcos Ghio) el árido monoteísmo semita postulado por un Islam en el que la diferencia de esencia entre Dios (Allah) y el hombre es abisal e insalvable y en la que, por este motivo, a éste se le cierran las puertas de su entronización Espiritual y, en consecuencia, de la posibilidad de ser señor de sí mismo y de trazar su destino y el de sus comunidades.

Quizás, también, no estaría de más realizar algún distingo entre los libros vestotestamentarios y los del Nuevo Testamento, pues hay quien afirma que evangelios como el de San Juan contienen vetas de esoterismo; y no hay que olvidar que este último se afana en la búsqueda y Conocimiento de la Verdad (de la Realidad Suprasensible) y en la consecución de un tipo de Hombre Descondicionado y Diferenciado apto, entre otras cosas, para no dejarse arrastrar por las corrientes disolutorias dominantes en el mundo moderno.

En la misma línea acorde con la Tradición se hallarían todas aquellas manifestaciones que en el entorno de la Cristiandad se reflejaron ya en la Saga Artúrica alrededor de un Ciclo del Grial que se prolongó en el Medievo asociado a órdenes ascético-militares como la de unos templarios que practicaban la Iniciación y cuya veta esotérica también fue consustancial a organizaciones como la de los Fieles de Amor (a la que, p. ej., perteneció un Dante) o la de los Rosacruces. Y en la misma línea Tradicional, dentro también del contexto del mundo cristiano, se hallaría el Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico, cuya cúspide jerárquica, en la figura del Emperador, aunaba las funciones sacra y temporal (política) como es propio de cualquier ordenamiento Tradicional en el que, por este motivo, el gobernante también ejerce de Pontifex o ´hacedor de puentes´ entre lo terrestre y lo celestial; entre sus súbditos y la Trascendencia.

Pero no en esta línea Tradicional se hallaría el misticismo cristiano, pues si la Iniciación prepara al adepto para descondicionarlo mediante prácticas y ejercicios metódicos y convertirlo en Hombre Diferenciado que pueda acceder al Conocimiento de lo Absoluto el misticismo, por contra, no lo prepara para ello sino que se detiene en el cumplimiento de la fe, la devoción y la piedad, siendo por ello que con estos medios mentales (y por ello humanos) no podrá acceder nunca a la Gnosis de lo Superior, sino que, a mucho estirar, se tendrá que conformar con recibir de lo Alto (como si se tratase de una especie de dádiva en agradecimiento por la devoción mostrada) una especie de fogonazo cegador que tan sólo le dará una idea poco aproximativa y muy difusa de lo que se halla más allá de la realidad sensitiva. Esto acontecerá en el mejor de los casos, ya que en muchos de ellos dicho fogonazo no será, en realidad, más que una especie de alucinación provocada en el místico por sus ayunos extremos enajenantes, por la repetición hasta la saciedad -extenuante- de letanías y/o por su actitud mental obsesiva hacia lo divino.

El árido monoteísmo semita al que citábamos más arriba encuentra también fiel reflejo en el judaísmo. Ya hemos hecho alusión párrafos atrás, al mito inmovilizante y fatalista de la resurrección de la carne y del Paraíso Terrenal que sólo acontecerá con la venida del Mesías, pero podríamos reforzar esta ausencia de posibilidad de transustanciación del hombre y de posibilidad de hacer frente a los procesos deletéreos con los que se encuentra, recordando cómo hay muchos judíos ultraortodoxos (como los de la organización Naturei Karta) que consideran al Estado de Israel actual como una impostura que atenta contra sus convicciones religiosas, por cuanto ellos creen que la Tierra Prometida que -más que aproximadamente desde el punto de vista geográfico- se halla en el territorio de dicho Estado sólo les pertenecerá legítimamente tras la venida del Mesías libertador; la cual, obviamente, todavía está por acontecer. No cabe aquí, pues, lucha que llevar a cabo sino la espera pasiva y resignada más absoluta que pueda caber.

Este pasivo dejarse llevar por un movimiento de inercia hacia adelante, esta ausencia de posibilidad de modificar este rumbo no supone más que una especie de caída libre en el vacío que no puede ser cortocircuitada por la acción del hombre y que responde a una cosmovisión de naturaleza lineal, ante la cual se levanta una totalmente disímil que es la propia de la Tradición y que es de orden circular o, como en ocasiones se la ha preferido denominar, de orden esférico.

En su momento hablamos con profundidad de estos dos tipos contrapuestos de manera de concebir la vida y la existencia: la lineal propia del mundo moderno y la circular propia del Tradicional (1). No vamos, pues, a extendernos en este capítulo ya por nosotros trabajado. Tan sólo vamos a apuntar que la cosmovisión lineal no sólo atañe al hecho religioso (de carácter lunar y pasivo) sino también a las excrecencias que ha originado su secularización. Así pues el liberalismo apunta a un camino marcado por una suerte de fatalismo, irremisible como tal y “superior” a las potencialidades del hombre, que está marcado por el progreso continuo (progresismo) y conducirá a una suerte de paraíso terreno atestado de bienes de consumo inacabables, de abundancia ilimitada y, por tanto, de total “felicidad” (vacuna, añadimos nosotros). Y en la misma línea el marxismo trazó otra línea inalterable que conduciría al ideal del comunismo y de su sociedad sin clases sociales y sin superestructuras de ningún tipo: ni Estados, ni ejércitos,…

Ya en su momento hemos apuntado el porqué en lugar de hablarse de cosmovisión cíclica, como propia de la Tradición, en ocasiones se ha preferido hablar de cosmovisión esférica, ya que en una esfera se pueden trazar infinidad de circunferencias que corresponderían a las diversas concretizaciones que el hombre (haciendo uso de su libertad y poder de trazar su destino) puede hacer de las cuatro edades de las que, según diferentes textos Sapienciales Tradicionales, consta un ciclo cósmico humano.

Igualmente en otras ocasiones (2) hemos señalado la posibilidad que tiene el hombre de provocar una especie de cortocircuito en la dinámica propia de la sucesión de las cuatro edades (de Oro, de Plata, de Bronce y de Hierro), poniendo freno al proceso involutivo en lo que la Tradición ha denominado como Ciclos Heroicos, que suponen la Restauración de la Tradición Primordial (Edad de Oro perdida).

De hecho el hombre, haciendo buen uso de la libertad que posee en el sentido de poder marcar su propio camino superando determinismos y condicionantes que pueden parecer fatalmente insalvables, el hombre, decíamos, tiene en sus manos el que el final de la etapa crepuscular del Kali-yuga o Edad de Hierro, porque atraviesa, acontezca antes y, dé, en consecuencia, paso, a una nueva Edad de Oro o Satya-yuga dentro de un nuevo ciclo humano o manvântara o, por el contrario, el que (como consecuencia de posturas pasivas, conformistas, alienadas o marcadas por determinismos varios) dicho final pueda prolongarse más allá de lo que las dinámicas cósmicas podrían hacer indicar.

Pocos como Evola nos han hecho con más nitidez ver cuál es el camino más apropiado para que el hombre sea capaz de llegar a su Integralidad y emprender, después, la tarea de Reconstrucción Tradicional de su derrumbadas sociedades. Este camino, nos dice el maestro italiano, no es otro que el de la vía de la acción, ya sea ésta interna, buscando el desapego y transformación interiores, o ya sea externa, luchando por intentar demoler el deletéreo edificio en ruinas en el que vivimos, con el objetivo de construir, en su lugar, un Orden cimentado en valores imperecederos y en principios inmutables.

Es acción interior lo que se precisa a lo largo de todos estos procesos conocidos con el nombre de Iniciación. El ascesis no es otra cosa que ejercicio interno. La necesaria e imprescindible práctica interior es, en definitiva, acción. Y es por todo esto por lo que la vía más apropiada para completar el arduo y metódico proceso iniciático es, repetimos, aquella conocida como ´vía de la acción´ o ´vía del guerrero´ o shatriya.

Las sociedades Tradicionales estaban constituidas, en su organización jerarquizada, por una élite sacro-guerrero-dirigente, bajo la cual se hallaba la casta guerrera y por debajo de la cual se situaban los estamentos cuya actividad vocacional tenía su eje en las actividades económico-productivas (comerciantes y maestros de talleres, por un lado, y mano de obra por el otro). Con la degradación sufrida en los estertores del Mundo Tradicional las funciones regia o dirigente y sacra se escinden y ya no estarán representadas por aquella élite; dándose paso, por ello, ya en el seno del mundo moderno, a sociedades divididas en las siguientes castas –no representativas del Mundo Tradicional-: brahmanes o sacerdotes, shatriyas o guerreros, viashias o mercaderes y sudras o mano de obra.

En tal estado de cosas la casta a la cual le resulta consustancial la vía de la acción es la más capacitada para emprender la gesta heroica de Restauración de la Tradición. Y así ocurrió a lo largo de las edades que sucedieron al Mundo de la Tradición Primordial o Edad de oro (Satya o Krita-yuga): así ocurrió, pues, en diferentes períodos -Ciclos Heroicos- de la Edad de Plata o Treta-yuga, de la Edad de Bronce o Dvâpara-yuga y de la Edad de Hierro o kali-yuga. Ciclos Heroicos como los protagonizados por héroes como aquéllos que nos refiere la mitología griega al hablarnos de unos Heracles, Aquiles, Ulises o Perseo que se elevan desde su condición de guerreros a la de la Inmortalidad (o, para hablar con más propiedad, Eternidad) a la que les ha llevado, sin duda, un proceso de transustanciación interior. Las polis en que ellos reinen recibirán la impronta sagrada de estos reyes sacros y volverán -aunque sea por un tiempo- a la Edad de Oro perdida: así en la Ítaca de Ulises o en la Atenas de Perseo.

Igual Ciclo Heroico ocurre en buena parte del discurrir de la Antigua Roma, muestra de lo cual es la unión en una misma persona de aquellas dos funciones o atributos que en el Mundo de la Tradición siempre había estado aunados, no sólo en una única persona sino también en la aristocracia a la que aquélla pertenecía; así, la función sagrada (Pontifex) y la función dirigente (como Imperator o jefe de los ejércitos y como Princeps o principal rector político) se unifican en la figura de los emperadores romanos. Su carácter sacro se hace patente por la condición de Iniciados en diferentes ritos -como los de Eleusis o de Mitra- que tuvieron muchos de los emperadores de la Antigua Roma, tales como Octavio Augusto, Tiberio, Marco Aurelio o Juliano.

También, con anterioridad a estos párrafos, hemos mencionado otros Ciclos Heroicos que igualmente se suceden en los momentos menos propicios (Edad de Hierro o, acorde con la ciclología mítica nórdica, Edad del Lobo) para enfrentar una tarea de Revolución (recuérdese: de re-volvere) Tradicional. Ciclos Heroicos como los que rodean la Saga Artúrica y el misterio del Grial o como el que representa el Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico en buena parte de la Edad Media. En este último caso el Emperador es un Ser Iniciado y así lo explicarían, entre otras evidencias, los poderes taumatúrgicos que poseía y que representarían una consecuencia sutil de su condición Sobrenatural. Además se trata de una figura que aúna el poder sacro y el temporal como sucedía en la Edad de Oro. El poder religioso del Papado, en esta etapa, se halla por debajo del sacro ostentado por el Emperador y así quedaba reflejado en la ceremonia de coronación de los Emperadores oficiada por los Papas y que sellaba el reconocimiento, por parte de éstos, de la superior competencia Espiritual del Emperador. En ocasiones algunos emperadores retrasaron en años dicha ceremonia o murieron sin que ella se hubiera realizado y esto aconteció como síntoma de que el Emperador no necesitaba de la acción papal para que su legitimidad fuera reconocida.

Cuando el Papado se negó a reconocer la superioridad Espiritual del Emperador se iniciaron, a raíz de las Querellas de las Investiduras, las guerras entre gibelinos y güelfos. Los primeros reconocían dicha Superior legitimidad del Emperador y los segundos eran partidarios de desposeer al Emperador de su competencia sacra y otorgársela en exclusiva al Papa. El que en una época poco propicia (avanzando el Kali-yuga) estas querellas se fueran decantando del lado güelfo-papal no resulta extraño. La consecuencia de ello es doble: por un lado se desacraliza paulatinamente el poder temporal (representado por el Emperador) y, por ende, poco a poco se desacraliza la misma sociedad y por otro lado se empieza a atomizar Europa en repúblicas (como las italianas) y en reinos que irán dando al traste con cualquier tipo de aspiración unitaria Transnacional (el Imperium) basada en principios Superiores y que tiene la función de representar en la Tierra (el microcosmos) el Ordo reinante en el macrocosmos. (3)

Los Ciclos Heroicos relacionados son un ejemplo más que representativo de la posibilidad real que el hombre posee de trazar su rumbo al margen de las adversidades que pueda encontrar en su periplo vital, destruyéndose, así, cualquier visión del mundo y de la existencia marcada por el fatalismo.

El Héroe, pues, no puede surgir -contrariamente a la opinión de algunos autores tradicionalistas- a partir de la casta sacerdotal o brahmana sino de la guerrera o shatriya, pues con la simple fe (actitud pasiva) del sacerdote es imposible operar transmutaciones en el interior del hombre, pero, en cambio, a través de la vía activa consustancial al guerrero sí es más factible pensar en procesos internos (que deben ser activos) de Liberación Espiritual del hombre.

La primera tarea (la interior) que debe, pues, emprender el hombre es la que puede llevarle a Ser Hombre Diferenciado y Absoluto gracias al Despertar, en su fuero interno, de esa Trascendencia pura e Imperecedera de la que la esencia humana no es ajena. Y para ese fin hay que empezar por derrotar a aquellas fuerzas (tamas, echando mano del tantrismo) que, desplegadas en el mundo manifestado, arrastran hacia lo bajo, hacia lo primario, lo pulsional y lo pasional.

Recalquemos que el Héroe es un Iniciado y que, por tanto, si en el terreno del hecho Trascendente se destierra la Iniciación sólo queda la perspectiva religiosa. Sólo quedan, pues, la fe y las creencias en que todos los píos, creyentes, devotos y cumplidores de una serie de dogmas y preceptos religioso-morales (establecidos pensando en las posibilidades de cumplimiento de la mayoría de los mortales) alcanzarán la salvación, en una suerte de democratismo espiritual marcado por la accesibilidad de la masa a la vida celestial, cuando, por el contrario, el Despertar al que va asociada la Iniciación es un logro que sólo una minoría apta y voluntariosa puede alcanzar. Según la perspectiva religiosa no cabe acción transfiguradora interior y la consecuencia de esto es la promoción de un evasionismo en el plano de lo interno que, por lógica consecuencia, acabará afectando al plano externo del individuo conduciéndole a la inacción exterior y a su pasividad ante la posibilidad de cambiar los signos deletéreos de los tiempos.

Hemos ya indicado el porqué, con Evola, sostenemos que debe ser a través del guerrero -y de su arquetipo- mediante quien se pueden operar los actos heroicos Reintegradores. Y lo hemos sostenido negándole esta posibilidad a la figura sacerdotal. Un signo más de esta no aptitud del brahmana para la transustanciación interna vendría dado por un dato básico que ilegitimiza su misma existencia social y que, sencillamente, es el de que esta casta no existía en el Mundo Tradicional sino que su aparición viene directamente ligada con los procesos involutivos que desembocaron en el mundo moderno, al separarse las funciones espiritual y temporal que antes estaban encarnadas por la aristocracia sacro-guerrera-dirigente. Podemos comprobar cómo en civilizaciones como la de la China o el Japón Tradicionales no existía casta sacerdotal o cómo en la antigua Roma tampoco. En ésta los ritos sacros eran oficiados por la élite de un patriciado cuya función dirigente y guerrera también le eran propias; así lo vemos, p. ej., en un Julio César como flamen dialis u oficiante de los ritos sacros consagrados al dios Júpiter. También “en la antigua India aparecen, como proceso involutivo, los brahmanes (a partir de los purohitas, que eran sacerdotes que dependían del rey sacro y cuyo origen hay que buscarlo en cultos dravídicos anteriores a las invasiones de pueblos indoeuropeos) y se convierten en casta dominante. Casta, por tanto, inexistente en el mundo Tradicional, en cuya pirámide social encontramos en primer lugar, en su cúspide, la casta regioguerrera y aristocrática de atributos sagrados, en segundo lugar, por debajo de ella, la guerrera propiamente dicha y en tercer puesto, en su base, la de todos aquellos que se dedican a actividades de tipo económico: comerciantes, artesanos, agricultores, campesinos,…” (4)

En la misma línea señalábamos en su día que “…Sin duda las formas espirituales precristianas –el mal llamado paganismo- habían entrado, desde hacía ya tiempo, en un proceso de decadencia que, por ejemplo, en buena parte del mundo celta había dado pie a la aparición y hegemonía de la casta sacerdotal de los druidas. La irrupción de esta casta coincide con una cierta deriva matriarcal en el seno de muchos pueblos celtas. Antes de darse este declive, el patriarcado del mundo celta corría paralelo al hecho de que los ritos sagrados eran ejercidos por la aristocracia dirigente.” (5)

Por estas razones si nos colocásemos en la problemática que se vivió en el Medievo y que llevó a los enfrentamientos entre gibelinos y güelfos o a la eliminación de la Orden del Temple (que se selló, definitivamente, con la quema en la hoguera de su último Gran Maestre Jacques de Molay, en 1.314, en la îlle des juifs del río Sena, en París) por decisión de unas jerarquías eclesiásticas (personificadas en la figura de Clemente V) que abominaban de todo lo que fuera esoterismo e Iniciación y por decisión, asimismo, de un Estado francés (en la figura de Felipe el hermoso) que quería asentar su poder en forma omnímoda y opuesta a cualquier ideal Imperial como el del Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico al cual los templarios siempre habían apoyado, si nos colocásemos, decíamos, en tal problemática y la enfocáramos desde el punto de vista Tradicional, aplicado a la estructuración social que debe tener cualquier sociedad Tradicional que se precie de ser tal, deberíamos situar en la legítima cúspide de la pirámide social al Emperador y a la élite sacroguerrera que representarían órdenes ascético-militares como la de los templarios. Bajo este primer estamento se hallaría el meramente guerrero y por último el económico-productivo. Siendo de esta manera no cabe, pues, el Papado en un ordenamiento Tradicional ni caben los eclesiásticos (cardenales, arzobispos, obispos, monjes, sacerdotes,…) por representar, todos ellos, un tipo de religiosidad lunar y pasiva.

La adecuada interpretación de la Tradición es la que debería llevar a las certidumbres que estamos sosteniendo. Y las sostenemos por haber visto en Evola el más adecuado intérprete de los parámetros esenciales en que sustenta el Mundo Tradición. Así, p. ej., lo supo también ver un encriptado grupo de personas que allá por los años ´70 de la pasada centuria redactaron una serie de interesantes escritos que bebían del legado Tradicional transmitido por Julius Evola. Se dieron a conocer como los dioscuros (así eran conocidos los hermanos Cástor y Pólux de los que nos habla la mitología griega) y nos dejaron sentencias y reflexiones muy ilustrativas al respecto de las ideas que pretendemos transmitir con el presente trabajo. Algunas de estas sentencias y reflexiones las relacionamos a continuación:

“…ni se llegue a un compromiso consigo mismos fingiendo encerrarse en una torre de marfil en la cual se espera el último derrumbe, el dicho justo sea en vez ´si cae el mundo un Nuevo Orden ya está listo´”.

“´Existe quien no tiene armas, pero el que las tiene que combata. No hay un Dios que combata por aquellos que no están en armas´. Tal es la invitación a la lucha dirigida por el maestro pagano Plotino”.

“Sólo del hombre y exclusivamente de él dependerán las elecciones futuras”.

“No hay justificación o comprensión, sino inexorable condena hacia aquellos que, teniendo las posibilidades no combaten y que por inercia se dejan abandonar en forma masoquista a un perezoso fatalismo”.

“Preparar silenciosamente las escuadras de los combatientes del espíritu para que, si y cuando los tiempos se tornen favorables, este tipo de civilización pueda ser destruida en sus raíces y ser sustituida con una civilización normal. Recordando siempre al respecto que los tiempos pueden ser convertidos en favorables y que el hombre es el artífice del propio destino”.

“No existe una condición externa en la cual no se pueda sin embargo estar activos por sí y para los otros”.

“Ha habido una indulgencia en femeninas perezas permaneciendo en la espera de lo que debe acontecer, casi como si se tratara de un buen espectáculo televisivo en el cual el espectador no está directamente implicado”.

“La espera pasiva y mesiánica no pertenece al alma occidental”.

“Verdad tradicional que justamente en la edad oscura son preparadas las semillas de las cuales surgirá el Árbol del ciclo áureo futuro, por lo que nunca, ni siquiera en la época férrea, la acción tradicional se perderá”

“El prejuicio materialista remite las causas de los acontecimientos únicamente a fenómenos de carácter natural. A tal obtusa concepción nosotros oponemos resueltamente la enseñanza según la cual cada pensamiento viviente es un mundo en preparación y cada acto real es un pensamiento manifestado”.

“Nosotros encendemos tal llama, en conformidad con el precepto ariya de que sea hecho lo que debe ser hecho, con espíritu clásico que no se abandona ni a vana esperanza ni a tétrico descorazonamiento.” (6)

El hombre de alma pasiva y mesiánica (del que hablaban los dioscuros) aceptará con bíblica resignación el destino que le ha impuesto su dios y, a diferencia del Héroe Solar, nunca pensará en rebelarse contra sistemas políticos antitradicionales, injustos, alienantes y explotadores.

El Hombre de la Tradición, por contra, más que amilanarse por la tremenda dificultad de encontrar el Norte que supone el vivir en la etapa crepuscular de la Edad Sombría o Kali-yuga, más que amilanarse verá en ello una oportunidad de arribar más Alto que, tal vez, donde hubiera podido llegar en otras edades no tan abisales del discurrir del hombre por la existencia terrena, pues al encontrarse en las ciénagas más espesas necesita de un mayor impulso para salir de ellas y este mayor impulso le puede catapultar mucho más Arriba: a la actualización del Principio Eterno que aletarga en su fuero interno.

La Tradición concibe que el Hombre Diferenciado puede entrar en las moradas celestiales dando una patada en las puertas del Cielo, sin complejos de inferioridad, mirando cara a cara a la divinidad, de tú a tú. Y, más aun, puede aspirar a superar la esencia de los mismos dioses o numens (como parte de la manifestación que éstos son) para pasar a Ser uno con el Principio Primero que se halla por encima y más allá del mundo manifestado.

En contraste con el Héroe Olímpico que nunca supo ni sabe de complejos de inferioridad ni de ineptitudes cuando miraba y mira a la Trascendencia encontramos al hombrecillo producto del mundo moderno alicorto e incapaz de arribar al Despertar a la Realidad Metafísica. Hombrecillo al que, p. ej., ya vemos cómo en la antigua Roma los Libros Sibilinos (7) obligan a practicar la genuflexión dentro del contexto representado por el alejamiento del mundo romano con respecto al Ciclo Heroico que le fue propio.

Hemos tratado en otro lugar de la Doctrina de las Cuatro Edades (8) y de la posibilidad heroica de ponerle freno a la espiral desintegradora e involutiva que ella nos explica. Autores como René Guénon nos han hablado (9), a partir del estudio de los textos Sapienciales del hinduismo, de la duración de cada una de las cuatro edades de que consta un Manvântara o ´ciclo de humanidad´, diciéndonos que la Edad de Oro, Satya-yuga o Krita-yuga tiene una duración de 25.920 años, la Edad de Plata o Trêta-yuga 19.920, la Edad de Bronce o Dvâpara-yuga 12.960 y la Edad de Hierro, del Lobo o kali-yuga 6.480. Igualmente afirma el Tradicionalista francés que nos hallamos en una fase avanzada del kali-yuga. Nótese que la duración de cada edad sigue una proporción de 4, 3, 2, 1, lo cual nos hace comprender que cada edad dura menos que la anterior en cuanto comporta un mayor nivel de decadencia, tal cual acontece con la bola de nieve que a medida que va bajando por la pendiente de la montaña se va haciendo mayor al igual que la velocidad que va tomando: su aceleración acaba resultando ciertamente vertiginosa. Si la Edad de Oro equivale al Mundo de la Tradición Primordial y puede ser calificada como la Edad del Ser y de la Estabilidad (de ahí su mayor duración) las restantes edades comportan la irrupción de un mundo moderno que puede, a su vez, ser denominado como mundo del devenir y del cambio (de ahí la cada vez menor duración de sus sucesivas edades). En verdad, no en balde, se puede constatar que en los últimos 50 años la vida y las costumbres han cambiado mucho más de lo que habían cambiado en los 500 años anteriores. Los traumáticos conflictos generacionales que se sufren, hoy en día, entre padres e hijos no se habían dado nunca en épocas anteriores (al menos con esta intensidad) debido a que los cambios en gustos, aficiones, hábitos y costumbres se sucedían con más lentitud. Los cambios bruscos, frenéticos y continuos propios de nuestros tiempos han dado lugar a lo que Evola definió como el hombre fugaz. Hombre fugaz que es el propio de la fase crepuscular por la que atraviesa la presente Edad de Hierro, caracterizada (esta fase) no ya por la hegemonía del Tercer ni del Cuarto Estado o casta (léase burguesía y proletariado) sino por la del que, con sagacidad premonitaria, Evola había previsto, pese a no haber vivido, como preponderancia del Quinto Estado o del financiero o especulador propio del presente mundo globalizado, gregario y sin referentes de ningún tipo. Este sujeto hegemónico en el Quinto Estado equivaldría al paria de las sociedades hindúes que no es más que aquél que ha sido infiel, innoble y disgresor para con su casta y ha sido expulsado del Sistema de Castas para convertirse en alguien descastado y sin tradición ni referentes. El hombre fugaz no se siente jamás satisfecho, vive en continua inquietud y convulsión. Su vacío existencial es inmenso y nada le llena. Intenta distraer dicho vacío con superficialidades, por ello su principal objetivo es poseer, tener y consumir compulsivamente. Cuando consigue poseer algo enseguida se siente insatisfecho porque ansía poseer otra cosa diferente, de más valor económico o de mayor apariencia para así poder impresionar a los demás. Y es que el mundo moderno es el mundo del tener y aparentar, en oposición del Mundo Tradicional que lo es del Ser. Este hombre fugaz se mueve por el aquí y ahora, pues lo que desea lo desea inmediatamente, no puede esperar. Su agitación no le permite pensar en el mañana.

El politólogo Samuel Huntington habló del fin de las ideologías (la llamada postmodernidad), bien que pensando que con el fin del comunismo en el poder, escenificado con la Caída del Muro de Berlín, se rendía el orbe a las excelencias del capitalismo liberal. Aunque más bien el mundo caía en manos de los caprichos del capitalismo financiero, alma de la globalización. Las ideologías que surgieron como consecuencia de los efectos nefastos que acarreó la Revolución Francesa habían quedado relegadas a un muy segundo lugar. Un cierto altruismo que aún conservaban los adalides del liberalismo y del marxismo cuando más que pensar en sus satisfacciones personales pensaban en un futuro (al que más que probablemente ellos no llegarían a conocer) de paraíso liberal (con provisión ilimitada de bienes de consumo) o comunista (con el triunfo definitivo del proletariado y la desaparición de cualquier superestructura), ese cierto altruismo, decíamos, quedaba defenestrado con el fin de las ideologías y el advenimiento del Quinto Estado con la hegemonía del hombre fugaz egoísta e individualista por antonomasia. (10)

Ante este desolador panorama actual sin duda resulta más difícil derrotar a los fantasmas del fatalismo e insuflar la convicción de que se puede voltear semejante emponzoñado estado de cosas.

Un cierto determinismo expele el posicionamiento de quienes interpretando los datos aportados por Guénon se han aventurado a datar los inicios y finales de cada una de las Cuatro Edades de que consta un manvântara. Así tenemos que se ha escrito que la Edad de Oro habría empezado el año 62.800 a. C. para acabar el 36.880 a. C. La Edad de Plata habría, lógicamente, comenzado con el fin de la anterior y se habría alargado hasta el año 17.440 a. C. Tras acabar ésta se habría dado paso a una Edad de Bronce que habría concluido en el 4.480 a C. Finalmente este último año sería cuando se habría iniciado la actual Edad de Hierro; la cual concluiría el año 2.000 d. C…

En otros sitios se puede observar cierta variación en cuanto a la datación de las Cuatro Edades, situando el comienzo del Kali-yuga el año 3.012 a. C., su mitad el año 582 a. C., el inicio de su crepúsculo el año 1.939 d. C. y en el 2.442 d. C. el final de la Edad de kali (esa especie de demonio de piel oscura de la que nos habla el Bhagavad Purana) o de la que ya los textos Sacros de la Tradición hinduista denominaron era de la riña y de la hipocresía.

Contrariamente a Guénon, Evola nunca habló de la duración de cada yuga o edad, porque para el gran intérprete romano (aunque siciliano de nacimiento) de la Tradición ello suponía un cierto tic fatalista de no poca consideración. Datar el año exacto de inicio y fin de una Edad comporta no creer en que el hombre, si se lo propone, puede convertirse en protagonista de su andadura existencial y de la andadura de sus comunidades. Pues el hombre es libre para Despertar al igual que lo es para condenarse. Sin duda la duración de cada yuga que hemos visto, párrafos atrás, en Guénon anda en relación directa con las dinámicas propias de las fuerzas sutiles que forman el entramado del Cosmos y que pueden adoptar un cariz disolvente para el hombre o, por contra, reintegrador de su Unidad perdida. De estas dinámicas nos habla el I Ching o Libro de las Mutaciones y entiende, asimismo, una deriva del mismo cual es el Tao-tê-king de Lao-tsé. Según estas enseñanzas aportadas por ambas fuentes Tradicionales de Ciencia Sagrada llega un momento en el que la expansión de ciertas fuerzas catagógicas o alienantes llega a tal punto que deberá detenerse, para después retroceder y dejar que el espacio que habían ocupado pase a ser enseñoreado por fuerzas de índole anagógica o Elevadora. Se habría, de esta manera, puesto punto y final al kali-yuga para dar paso a otro nuevo ciclo humano o manvântara con el inicio de una nueva Edad de Oro o Satya-yuga (Edad de Sat -Ser, en sánscrito). Sin duda en la mentalidad de Evola datar con exactitud cuándo estos cambios cósmicos acontecen significaba anular el protagonismo y la libertad del hombre a la hora de trazar el cauce de su andadura. Para el maestro italiano se trataba de aprovechar los estertores del predominio de las fuerzas catagógicas para ponerle fin a su hegemonía cuanto antes mejor. Y se trataba, asimismo, de acabar con la pasividad fatalista del hombre moderno con el objeto de que dichos estertores no se alargaran más allá de lo que los textos Tradicionales habían calculado (sin duda, de modo aproximativo). Por otro lado, volvemos a reincidir en el tema clave de este ensayo en el sentido de que incluso en pleno auge hegemónico de fuerzas disolventes el hombre no debe renunciar a la gesta Heroica de Reconstituir en sí mismo la Unidad perdida y de Restaurar el Ordo Tradicional (sea, eso es otro cantar, de manera más o menos duradera).

En una de las dataciones que hemos aportado hemos indicado que la mitad de la Edad de Hierro tendría lugar el año 582 a. C. Vamos a aprovechar esta fecha por tratarse de un s. VI a. C. sobre el que Guénon vertió una serie de reflexiones dignas de comentar. Para éste, no obstante, la mitad del kali-yuga había acaecido antes. Se queja el Tradicionalista francés (12) de las conclusiones vertidas por la historiografía al uso por haber catalogado como de oscurantista todo lo acontecido antes de ese siglo y porque dicha historiografía oficial hace comenzar en el transcurso de dicha centuria la etapa de “civilización” del mundo clásico cuando, en cambio, según su parecer (el de Guénon) existe una continuidad con los siglos anteriores y más concretamente con las vetas de Tradición que aún existían. Así pues, para él la aparición del pitagorismo en aquel siglo, en Grecia, no supone ningún punto de inflexión en ningún sentido sino que representa una readaptación del orfismo. La irrupción del segundo Zaratrusta (este nombre equivaldría más a una función que a una persona) en Persia también supondría una adecuación del mazdeísmo. La elaboración del Confucionismo (siempre durante el mismo siglo) en China sería el aporte ideal de códigos sociales y éticos destinados a una mayoría no apta para aprehender las Verdades Metafísicas que ofrecía el taoísmo para una minoría metafísicamente apta. Sí, como primera excepción a lo dicho, contempla Guénon un punto de inflexión en la aparición de la filosofía en Grecia, pues a su loable motivo de aparición (inscrito etimológicamente en el mismo vocablo filosofía: amor a la sabiduría) le sucede la problemática de la adopción de herramientas humanas (los métodos especulativo y discursivo) para intentar comprender Realidades Suprahumanas como lo son las Realidades Metafísicas (11); sin obviar la deriva posterior que, en cuanto a los fines de sus elucubraciones, protagonizaron muchos filósofos y muchas escuelas filosóficas (cada vez en mayor número a medida que discurría el tiempo). Y como segunda excepción considera Guénon que la aparición del budismo en el s. VI a. C. supone una caída con respecto al hinduismo imperante en la India, pues opina que el budismo estaría atentando contra la jerarquía consustancial a cualquier sociedad Tradicional al abrírsele la posibilidad de acceso a la Realidad Absoluta a cualquier hombre, independientemente de la casta a la que pertenezca, que tenga la aptitud y la voluntad para intentarlo; además de sopesar como de antitradicional el que quien sigue la vía del budismo abandona su pertenencia social a la casta en la que nació. Para Guénon, con toda seguridad, sólo el brahman o sacerdote podría aspirar al acceso al Plano de la Trascendencia. Para Guénon, tengámoslo en cuenta, sólo el brahman puede Restaurar la Tradición perdida.

Contrariamente a lo expuesto por Guénon, Evola no considera la aparición del budismo como un punto de involución con respecto al hinduismo sino como un punto de superación con respecto a un hinduismo que había caído en un ritualismo vacío y le había dado la espalda al esoterismo. El budismo, además, es fundado por Gautama Siddharta: un shatriya miembro de uno de los linajes guerreros más tradicionalmente valerosos de la India (Shankya). Para Evola, la formulación del budismo constituye, pues, un acto Heroico protagonizado por alguien perteneciente a la única casta capaz de emprender gestas de Reconstitución de la Tradición. Para Evola el budismo no atenta contra la jerarquización social Tradicional y no lo hace por dos motivos: uno, porque la estratificación social de la India de entonces no se puede definir como de Tradicional, ya que las funciones sacra y guerrero-dirigente se hallan divididas entre brahmanes (que profesan, además, un tipo de religiosidad lunar) y shatriyas y no se encuentran, como correspondería a un Ordenamiento Tradicional, encarnadas en una misma élite. Y el otro motivo por el que el budismo, en opinión de Evola, no atenta contra la jerarquización social del Mundo Tradicional es que para el Hombre Superior -y tan solo para este tipo de Hombre- no deben existir normas, morales ni reglamentos (entre ellos los que exige cumplir una casta para con sus miembros) que puedan ejercer el papel de cortapisas y obstáculos para aquél que pretende elevarse más allá de su condición humana con el fin de acceder a una de tipo Suprahumano. Sí, en cambio -como no podía ser de otro modo- en el parecer de Evola el resto de personas (que no tienen la capacidad y/o la voluntad de encarar la praxis de las Realidades Suprasensibles) debe someterse al sistema Tradicional estamental que ayudará a gobernar sus vidas, ya que estas personas no son capaces de llegar a autogobernarse; a ser señores de sí mismos.

Si el Hombre de la Tradición es un Hombre que no conoce de fatalismos paralizantes huelga comentar que tampoco concibe de la existencia de determinismos inmovilizantes con respecto a la aspiración de emprender cualquier empresa Superior:

-Ni determinismos de casta, por más que los miembros de unas (guerreros) sean más propicios para emprender actos Heroicos que los de las restantes o resulten más aptos para llegar a estados de conciencia más sutiles de la Realidad Suprasensible; o para llegar, incluso, más allá de cualquier Realidad sutil.

-Ni determinismos históricos (el determinismo histórico que, de acuerdo a los postulados del materialismo dialéctico, postula que la historia se hace a sí misma: tesis más antítesis= nueva tesis; o igual a cambios y nueva etapa histórica). El historicismo considera al hombre como sujeto pasivo, sin posibilidad de escribir la historia por sí mismo; sin posibilidad de hacer historia. Ésta última sería algo así como una entidad con vida autónoma cuyas nuevas manifestaciones no serían más que la consecuencia de su misma dinámica interna y en las cuales el ser humano no tendría ningún papel activo. La dinámica económica, social, cultural y política de un período dado serían la lógica, fatal, e inevitable, consecuencia de la que aconteció en la etapa anterior.

-Ni determinismos religiosos concretados en un dios omnipotente que hace y deshace a su antojo y sin que, fatalmente, el hombre-criaturilla pueda hacer nada para marcar su propio rumbo.

-Ni determinismos ambiental-educativos que condicionen totalmente el camino a elegir y a seguir por el hombre.

-Ni determinismos cósmicos en la forma de un Destino que todo lo tiene irremisiblemente programado de antemano.

Y que para el Hombre Verdadero no existen determinismos cósmicos se cerciora si se tiene presente el que todas las doctrinas Sapienciales nos hablan de fuerzas (o numens) que interactúan armónicamente en el Cosmos. La dinámica de estas fuerzas cósmicas influye en la existencia de los hombres y en el devenir de los acontecimientos, pero no de manera fatalista e insoslayable. El Mundo Tradicional ofició, siempre, ritos sagrados que hacían posible el conocimiento de cuáles eran las dinámicas que, en un momento determinado, seguían o seguirían dichas fuerzas cósmicas, pero también ofició sacrificios (oficios o ritos sacros) que tenían como objetivo el poder influir –a favor propio- sobre estos numens para hacerlos propicios en momentos en que podían no serlos para los intereses personales o de la comunidad. Es por lo cual que con estos sacrificios el hombre podía labrarse su propio destino operando sobre determinadas dinámicas cósmicas que, en ciertos momentos, no les eran favorables.

Evola sabía que dichas dinámicas influían en el hombre (que comparte fuerzas sutiles con el Cosmos), pero también era consciente de que influir no significa fijar ni significa determinar irremisiblemente. Además, hay siempre que tener presente que el que ha elegido con éxito la vía de la transustanciación interior vence todas estas influencias porque se encuentra por encima de cualquier numen o fuerza cósmica: se halla por encima de cualquier atisbo (por muy sutil que éste sea) del mundo manifestado porque ha realizado en sí la Gran Liberación y el total descondicionamiento.

El Héroe se niega a ser arrastrado por la corriente porque está convencido de que nada puede a su voluntad y de que, por tanto, puede sobreponerse al accionar de las leyes cósmicas. Está convencido de que la libertad que ha conseguido en su interior (su descondicionamiento con respecto a cualquier atadura y determinismo) le ha hecho invulnerable a estas leyes cósmicas, a estos numens; en definitiva, al Destino.

El mundo nouménico constituido por todo un entramado de fuerzas sutiles explica la armonía y el dinamismo del cosmos. Y en consonancia y en armonía con ese mundo nouménico es como deben estar dinamizadas las fuerzas sutiles del ser humano, ya que si éstas no están armonizadas con sus análogas del resto del cosmos discurrirán a tal fuerte contracorriente que acabarán por desarmonizarse también entre ellas mismas (en nuestro interior). De aquí, pues, la importancia que en el Mundo de la Tradición se le dio siempre a la realización y correcta ejecución de los ritos sagrados. Ritos que tenían o bien la finalidad de hacer conocer a sus oficiantes cuál era la concreta dinámica cósmica de un momento dado, bien con tal de no actuar aquí abajo contrariamente a dicha dinámica (en batallas, empresas arriesgadas, en la elección del momento de la concepción de la propia descendencia o del momento más idóneo para contraer matrimonio o para coronar a un rey,…) o bien con tal de poder adoptar las medidas apropiadas para actuar a sabiendas de que se hará a contracorriente de ese mundo Superior. O bien estos ritos se efectuaban con la intención de que fuesen operativos, esto es, de que tuviesen el poder de actuar sobre ese mundo Superior para (en la medida en que fuera posible) modificar su dinámica y hacerla favorable –o menos antagónica- a las actuaciones que se quisieran llevar a cabo aquí abajo.

Hay quien se pregunta por las razones por las cuales hombres como el de origen indoeuropeo, que tan adecuadamente conoció de este tipo de ritos operativos y los ejecutó y que protagonizó siempre tantos Ciclos Heroicos, ha podido hundirse en simas tan profundas como en las que se halla a día de hoy. Seguramente ha sido el que más aceleración le ha impreso a su caída; cierto es que en el actual estado de globalización, por el que atraviesa todo el planeta, prácticamente todos los pueblos del orbe se han igualado en niveles de sometimiento a los dictados de la materia y de lo infrahumano.

Seguramente para encarar la respuesta a esa pregunta habría que empezar resaltando la evidencia de que el hombre indoeuropeo (antes de la postración en la que caído) siempre fue muy dado a la libertad, tanto en lo social, como en lo político y en lo Espiritual. Por ello siempre conformó sociedades de tipo comunal y orgánico unidas a entes políticos superiores (el Regnum y, mejor aun, el Imperium) por el mero principio de la Fides y no por la fuerza ejercida desde las altas jerarquías. Por ello, también, aspiró siempre a la suprema libertad: la libertad interior que se obtiene tras un duro, riguroso y metódico ascesis que no es otra cosa que la Iniciación y en cuyos estadios iniciales pugna por el descondicionamiento del Iniciado con respecto de todo aquello que lo mediatiza y esclaviza.

Siempre, repetimos, fueron muy propias del mundo indoeuropeo el tipo de sociedades orgánicas (como corresponde a cualquier sociedad que se precie de Tradicional) que no basan, por tanto, su cohesión a través de la fuerza material ejercida por los que detentan el poder sino que basan su unidad en la libre elección hecha (a través de la fides juramentada al Regnum o al Imperium) por los entes sociales o políticos que armónica y orgánicamente las componen.

Este hombre mostró muy a menudo su capacidad de ser señor de sí mismo (de autogobernarse y autodominar su mundo psíquico), sin que, por tanto, necesitase que le reglamentaran todos los aspectos de su vida cotidiana hasta el más ínfimo detalle; como, por el contrario, aconteció siempre –y acontece- con otros pueblos –pelásgicos, semitas,…- cuyas religiones ordenaron –y/u ordenan- hasta el extremo, mediante normas y dogmas, toda la existencia de sus miembros. Para la élite Espiritual de ese hombre indoeuropeo cualquier ligadura social y moral hubiera representado un obstáculo en medio de la vía de descondicionamiento que estaba recorriendo.

Pero, cuando dicho hombre se aleja de la Tradición y rompe, por tanto, con lo Alto no halla en su caída ni férreas morales ni dogmas ni reglamentaciones omnipresentes que atenúen dicha caída; morales y dogmas que, al modo de ataduras, si bien le hubieran impedido Ascender también le hubieran evitado el estrellarse, de forma tan estrepitosa y categórica, contra los abismos.

Aquí podemos encontrar las razones de esa caída libre que este hombre viene protagonizando. Caída libre no fatal ya que, no lo olvidemos, siempre puede ser frenada en acto heroico que, de realizarse, le puede volver a catapultar desde lo más bajo hacia lo más Elevado.

Hemos señalado, a lo largo de este escrito, ciertas discrepancias de enfoque habidas entre Julius Evola y René Guénon. Se trata de unas discrepancias que no afectan a las coincidencias básicas que ambos Tradicionalistas mostraron en sus disecciones del Mundo Tradicional y sus denuncias del mundo moderno, pero no está carente de relevancia el que sigamos mostrando alguna otra divergencia, por cuanto está íntimamente relacionado con el tema del presente trabajo. Se trata de una divergencia que ambos autores estuvieron, a finales de los años ´20 del s. XX, dirimiendo en forma epistolar y que ha sido agrupada bajo la cabecera de “Polémica sobre la metafísica hindú”. Evola denuncia algunos ciertos contenidos del libro de Guénon “El hombre y su devenir según el Vedânta” en el sentido de los peligros evasionistas a los que puede conducir el vedântismo (sobre todo el vedântismo advâita) que tuvo a bien exponer Guénon en dicha obra (13). Es así como Evola lo percibe cuando opina sobre esta interpretación de los Vedas que es el Vedânta. En tal línea el maestro italiano afirma que “el punto de vista del Vedânta es que el mundo, procedente de estados no manifestados, vuelve a sumergirse en ellos al final de cierto período, y ello recurrentemente. Al final de tal período, todos los seres, bon gré mal gré, serán por tanto liberados, ´restituidos´.” Evola nos advierte del fatalismo que envuelve a estas creencias y nos advierte de que si el hombre, junto a toda la manifestación, volverá a Reintegrarse en el Principio Supremo del que procede y será, así, restituido a lo Eterno e Inmutable no se hace necesaria ninguna acción: ni interna tendente a la Liberación ni externa que apunte a la Restauración del Orden Tradicional, ya que, tarde o temprano, toda la humanidad (así como todo el mundo manifestado) acabará Liberada cuando haya sido reabsorbida por el Principio Primero. Ni que decir tiene la pasividad a la que dichas creencias pueden llevar.

Igualmente nos advertía Evola de que considerar, tal como hace el Vedânta, al mundo manifestado como mera ensoñación (Mâya) puede abocar a posturas evasionistas con respecto al plano de la inmanencia. Puede llevar al refugio en el Mundo de la Trascendencia y a dar la espalda a una realidad sensible sobre la que el Hombre Tradicional debe tener muy claro que debe actuar para sacralizarla y convertirla en un reflejo de lo Alto (recuérdese el Imperium, en el microcosmos, como reflejo del Ordo macrocósmico). De no actuar en este sentido nos olvidaríamos -empleando terminología del hermetismo alquímico- del coagula que debe seguir al solve en todo proceso de metanoia o transformación interna; nos olvidaríamos, pues, de la materialización del Espíritu que debe seguir a la fase de Espiritualización de la materia propia de los procesos Iniciáticos.

No es nuestra intención la de resaltar desavenencias doctrinales entre Evola y Guénon sino la de hacerlo sólo si tienen una incidencia directa en el tema que estamos trabajando en este escrito. Pocos años después de haberse producido esta discrepancia epistolar, el mismo Evola reconocía, en un artículo intitulado “René Guénon, un maestro de los tiempos nuestros”, la alta competencia Tradicionalista de Guénon y lo imprescindible de su obra; opinión que no podemos por menos que compartir.

Pensamos que a lo largo de todas estas líneas ha quedado bien aclarada la postura existencial que defiende Evola como aquélla que debe adoptar cualquier persona que vea en la Tradición Perenne el faro y la luz que debe guiar su existencia. Esta postura ha quedado claro que es la de la vía de la acción (que puede convertirse en heroica) y la del rechazo a concepciones deterministas, fatalistas, evasionistas, pasivas e inmovilizantes. La lucha (interna y externa) debe ser el arma utilizada por el hombre que aspire a Restaurar lo Permanente y Estable frente a lo caduco y corrosivo del mundo moderno. La lucha externa le hará siempre concebir, a Evola, la esperanza de acabar con las manifestaciones políticas, económicas, sociales y culturales combatiéndolas en lid directa con el fin de abatirlas y hacer triunfar un nuevo Ciclo Heroico en plena Edad del Lobo. Esta esperanza y este objetivo son los que transmiten libros suyos que no son precisamente de los primeros que escribió en su definitiva etapa Tradicionalista: obras tales como “Orientaciones” (1.950) y “Los hombres y las ruinas” (1.953). Más adelante se apercibió de que pese a la inconsistencia interna de que hacía gala la modernidad los aparatos políticos que le eran propios a ésta se habían dotado de una fuerza represiva tan fuerte que resultaba casi ilusorio el aspirar a acabar con ella, por lo cual Evola creyó que antes que enfrentarse directamente con el Sistema que abanderaba los antivalores propios del mundo moderno se hacía más conveniente emplear otra táctica también extraída de las enseñanzas del Mundo Tradicional; concretamente de las enseñanzas extremoorientales. Y esta táctica no era otra que la de “Cabalgar el tigre” (14) y que nos transmitió en una obra homónima escrita por él el año 1.961. Para Evola ´cabalgar el tigre´ es adoptar tácticas como la de fomentar las contradicciones de nuestro degradante mundo moderno y del Establishment que lo sustenta y que a la vez es su consecuencia. Se trata de fomentar sus contradicciones y ponerlas de manifiesto y en evidencia. El desarrollo de sus contradicciones debe provocar tales tensiones, fricciones, desajustes y desequilibrios que acabe en el estallido de todo el entramado plutocrático materialista de este orbe globalizado (que Evola definió como el de la hegemonía del Quinto Estado) y que dé, en consecuencia, paso a una nueva Edad Áurea. Sin la acción heroica del hombre el final de esta etapa terminal de la Edad de Hierro podría prolongarse más de lo que las dinámicas cósmicas podrían indicar. ´Cabalgar el tigre´ que representa el mundo moderno hasta que éste se agote y llegue a su fin, en lugar de enfrentarlo directamente, pues, de este modo, el tigre nos destrozaría.

Evola contempla los procesos disolventes por los que se atraviesa y piensa que el principio de ´Cabalgar el tigre´ se puede, también, aplicar en el plano interno en el sentido de utilizar los venenos (como el sexo, el alcohol, las drogas, ciertos bailes/ritmos frenéticos,…) -que, por su naturaleza o por su omnipresencia, embriagan a la modernidad crepuscular- como medio de alterar el estado de conciencia ordinario y hacer más accesible el paso a otros estados de conciencia superiores. Sobra señalar lo peligroso de esta vía de la mano izquierda (como la definió el tantrismo), vía húmeda (en términos hermético-alquímicos) o vía dionisíaca por cuanto aquél que se aventura por el camino de la Iniciación y elija el tránsito por esta vía sin la preparación ardua de descondicionamiento previo seguramente se verá desgarrado y devorado por el tigre de estos venenos y convertido en adicto y en esclavo de ellos. Es por ello que sólo unos pocos hombres cualificados son aptos para aventurarse por semejante peligrosa vía de acceso a planos Superiores de la realidad.

Por otro lado se precisa no dejar de señalar que los tipos de más alta prestación Espiritual no necesitan de ayudas externas, en la forma de estos venenos, para que su conciencia pueda penetrar en la esencia de otro tipo de planos suprasensibles de la realidad, sino que será por su propia preparación metódica encarada al dominio y eliminación de su submundo emocional, pulsional e instintivo como habrá dado los primeros pasos para -tras aplicar otro tipo de rigurosas técnicas y de estrictos ejercicios de concentración, visualización,…- iniciar el acceso al conocimiento de otras realidades de orden metafísico y para hacer efectiva su progresiva transformación interior (la del Iniciado). Estaríamos hablando, ahora, de la vía de la mano derecha, vía seca o apolínea.

De aquel Hombre que es capaz de ´convertir el veneno en remedio´ también se pueden aplicar expresiones como aquélla que afirma que ´la espada que le puede matar, también le puede salvar´ o la que asevera que ´el suelo que le puede hacer caer, también le puede servir para apoyarse y levantarse´. Sin duda se trata de otra vía heroica adoptada por un Hombre para el que no existen situaciones -por muy irreversibles y fatales que puedan parecer- ante las que no se pueda actuar, ya sea luchando de frente o, como en este caso acabamos de explicar, cabalgando el tigre.

Ha quedado claro a lo largo de todo este escrito el que para el Hombre de la Tradición no existe fatalismo ninguno que le relegue a un vegetar pasivo y ovino a la espera de cambios predeterminados que le vendrán de fuera y cuyo cumplimiento le será totalmente ajeno a su voluntad. Ha quedado diáfana la idea de que las potencialidades Espirituales que anidan aletargadas en su seno interno pueden actualizarse y Liberarlo. Y no querríamos concluir este trabajo sin recurrir a una imagen sugerente que nos llega del hinduismo y que nos presenta a la diosa Shakti (símbolo de la fuerza sutil que se conoce con el mismo nombre: shakti) bailando alrededor del dios Siva (o Shiva: representación del Principio Supremo y Primero) y habiendo finalmente logrado, con su danza erótica, que el miembro viril de él se vigorice. Vigorización que no representa otra cosa que la de actualización del Espíritu dormido que, en potencia, albergamos en nuestro interior. No otra, sino ésta, es el gran reto heroico que debe acometer el hombre que aspire a convertirse en Hombre Diferenciado, para el que las adversidades son retos y no obstáculos impregnados de un fatalismo insalvable.

NOTAS:

(1) Consúltese nuestro escrito “Cosmovisiones cíclicas y cosmovisiones lineales”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/07/27/cosmovisiones-ciclicas-y-cosmovisiones-lineales/

(2) “Los ciclos heroicos. Las doctrinas de las cuatro edades y de la regresión de las castas y la libertad en Evola”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/02/08/los-ciclos-heroicos/

(3) Esta idea del Imperium fue desarrollada en nuestro ensayo “El Imperium a la luz de la Tradición”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/02/08/el-imperium-a-la-luz-de-la-tradicion/

(4) Aparecido en nuestro “Jerarquía y trifuncionalidad”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2010/02/14/jerarquia-y-trifuncionalidad/

(5) Ídem.

(6) Pueden leerse estas reflexiones y sentencias, y otras más, en los volúmenes 1, 2 y 3 de “La magia como ciencia del Espíritu”, editados por Ediciones Heracles en 1.996.

(7) Para una profundización mayor en la problemática que la aparición de los Libros Sibilinos supuso en la antigua Roma se puede consultar el capítulo titulado “Los Libros Sibilinos” que forma parte de nuestro escrito “Evola y el judaísmo (Segunda parte)”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/07/28/evola-y-el-judaismo-2%c2%aa-parte/

(8) “Los ciclos heroicos. Las doctrinas de las cuatro edades y de la regresión de las castas y la libertad en Evola”. Op. cit.

(9) “Algunas observaciones sobre la doctrina de los ciclos cósmicos”, artículo de René Guénon editado por Ediciones Obelisco en 1.984, junto a otros textos, dentro del volumen “Formas tradicionales y ciclos cósmicos”.

(10) Para un mejor entendimiento de la Doctrina de la Regresión de las Castas volvemos a remitirnos a nuestro artículo “Los ciclos heroicos. Las doctrinas de las cuatro edades y de la regresión de las castas y la libertad en Evola”.

(11) Este tema fue estudiado en nuestro redactado “Ciencia sacra y conocimiento”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/07/05/ciencia-sacra-y-conocimiento/

(12) “La crisis del mundo moderno”. Capítulo I: “La Edad de sombra”. Editorial Obelisco. 1ª edición de 1.982 y 2ª edición de 1.988.

(13) Problemática tratada en nuestro “Críticas de Evola al Vedânta”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/07/09/criticas-de-evola-al-vedanta/

(14) Se puede consultar nuestro escrito “Cabalgar el tigre”: http://septentrionis.wordpress.com/2009/07/28/cabalgar-el-tigre/

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mardi, 11 octobre 2011

Julius Evola’s Concept of Race: A Racism of Three Degrees

Julius Evola’s Concept of Race: A Racism of Three Degrees

By Michael Bell

Ex: http://www.toqonline.com/

COP_ORI_005.jpgSince the rise of physical anthropology, the definition of the term “race” has undergone several changes. In 1899, William Z. Ripley stated that, “Race, properly speaking, is responsible only for those peculiarities, mental or bodily, which are transmitted with constancy along the lines of direct physical descent.” 1 In 1916, Madison Grant described it as the “immutability of somatological or bodily characters, with which is closely associated the immutability of physical predispositions and impulses.”2 He was echoed a decade later by German anthropologist Hans F.K. Gunther, who in his Racial Elements of European History said, “A race shows itself in a human group which is marked off from every other human group through its own proper combination of bodily and mental characteristics, and in turn produces only its like.”3 According to the English-born Canadian evolutionary psychologist J. Philippe Rushton:

Each race (or variety) is characterized by a more or less distinct combination of inherited morphological, behavioral, physiological traits . . . Formation of a new race takes place when, over several generations, individuals in one group reproduce more frequently among themselves than they do with individuals in other groups. This process is most apparent when the individuals live in diverse geographic areas and therefore evolve unique, recognizable adaptations (such as skin color) that are advantageous in their specific environments.4

These examples indicate that, within the academic context (where those who still believe in “race” are fighting a losing battle with the hierophants of cultural anthropology), a race is simply a human group with distinct common physical and mental traits that are inherited.

Among white racialists, where race has more than a merely scientific importance, a deeper dimension was added to the concept: that of the spirit. In The Decline of the West, Oswald Spengler set forth the idea of the Apollinian, Faustian, and Magian “soul forms,” which can be understood as spiritual racial types.5 In this highly influential Spenglerian tome Imperium, Francis Parker Yockey elaborated this notion, asserting that while there are genetically related individuals within any particular human group, race itself is spiritual: it is a deeply felt sense of identity connected with a drive to perpetuate not just genes, but a whole way of life. “Race impels toward self-preservation, continuance of the cycle of generations, increase of power.”6 Spiritual race is a drive toward a collective destiny.

The spiritual side of race, however, was never systematically explained to the same extent as the physical. Its existence was, rather, merely suggested and taken for granted. It was only in the writings of the much overlooked Italian Radical Traditionalist and esotericist Julius Evola that the spiritual dimension was finally articulated in detail. One who has studied race from the biological, psychological, and social perspectives should turn to Evola’s writings for a culminating lesson on the subject. Evola’s writings provide a wealth of information that one cannot get elsewhere. Through a careful analysis of ancient literature and myths, along with anthropology, biology, history, and related subjects, Evola has pieced together a comprehensive explanation of the racial spirit.

My purpose here is simply to outline Evola’s doctrine of race. Since Evola’s life and career have been thoroughly examined elsewhere,7 the only biographical fact relevant here is that Evola’s thoughts on race were officially adopted as policy by Mussolini’s Fascist Party in 1942.8

Body and Mind

Evola’s precise definition of “race” is similar to Yockey’s: it is an inner essence that a person must “have”; this will be explained further below. In the meantime, a good starting point is Evola’s understanding of distinct human groups.

Evola agrees with the physical anthropologists that there are distinct groups with common physical traits produced by a common genotype: “the external form . . . which, from birth to birth, derives from the ‘gene’ . . . is called phenotype.”9 He refers to these groups as “races of the body,” and concurs with Gunther that suitable examples include the Nordic, Mediterranean, East Baltic, Orientalid, Negroid, and many others.10

Evola describes the “race of the soul” as the collective mental and behavioral traits of a human stock, and the outward “style” through which these are exhibited. Every race has essentially the same mental predispositions; all human peoples, for example, desire sexual satisfaction from a mate. However, each human stock manifests these inner instincts externally in a different way, and it is this “style,” as Evola terms it, which is the key component of the “race of the soul.”

To illustrate this point, compare the Spartan strategos (Nordic soul) to the Carthaginian shofet (Levantine soul)11: the Spartan considers it heroic to fight hand-to-hand with shield and spear and cowardly to attack from a distance with projectiles, whereas the Carthaginian finds it natural to employ elephants and grand siege equipment to utterly shock and scatter his enemies for an expedient victory.

The names of these races of the soul correspond to those of the body, hence a Nordic soul, a Mediterranean soul, Levantine soul, etc. Evola devotes an entire chapter in Men Among the Ruins to comparing the “Nordic” or “Aryo-Roman” soul to the “Mediterranean.” The Nordic soul is that of “‘the race of active man,’ of the man who feels that the world is presented to him as material for possession and attack.”12 It is the character of the quintessential “strong and silent type”:

Among them we should include self-control, an enlightened boldness, a concise speech and determined and coherent conduct, and a cold dominating attitude, exempt from personalism and vanity . . . The same style is characterized by deliberate actions, without grand gestures; a realism that is not materialism, but rather love for the essential . . . the readiness to unite, as free human beings and without losing one’s identity, in view of a higher goal or for an idea.13

Evola also quotes Helmuth Graf von Moltke (the Elder) on the Nordic ethos: “Talk little, do much, and be more than you appear to be.”14

The Mediterranean soul is the antithesis of the Nordic. This sort of person is a vain, noisy show-off who does things just to be noticed. Such a person might even do great deeds sometimes, but they are not done primarily for their positive value, but merely to draw attention. In addition, the Mediterranean makes sexuality the focal point of his existence.15 The resemblance of this picture to the average narcissistic, sex- and celebrity-obsessed American of today – whether genetically Nordic or Mediterranean – is striking. One need only watch American Idol or browse through the profiles of Myspace.com to see this.

Race of the Spirit

The deepest and therefore most complicated aspect of race for Evola is that of the “spirit.” He defines it as a human stock’s “varying attitude towards the spiritual, supra-human, and divine world, as expressed in the form of speculative systems, myths, and symbols, and the diversity of religious experience itself.”16 In other words, it is the manner in which different peoples interact with the gods as conveyed through their cultures; a “culture” would include rituals, temple architecture, the role of a priesthood (or complete lack thereof), social hierarchy, the status of women, religious symbolism, sexuality, art, etc. This culture, or worldview, is not simply the product of sociological causes, however. It is the product of something innate within a stock, a “meta-biological force, which conditions both the physical and the psychical structures” of its individual members.17

The “meta-biological force” in question has two different forms. The first corresponds to an id or a collective unconscious, a son of group mind-spirit that splinters off into individual spirits and enters a group member’s body upon birth. Evola describes it as “subpersonal” and belonging “to nature and the infernal world.”18 Most ancient peoples, as he explains, depicted this force symbolically in their myths and sagas; examples would include the animal totems of American aborigines, the ka of the Pharaonic Egyptians, or the lares of the Latin peoples. The “infernal” nature of the latter example was emphasized by the fact that the lares were believed to be ruled over by the underground deity named Mania.19 When a person died, this metaphysical element would be absorbed back into the collective from whence it came, only to be recycled into another body, but devoid of a recollection of its former life.

The second form, superior to the first, is one that does not exist in every stock naturally, or in every member of a given stock; it is an otherworldly force that must be drawn into the blood of a people through the practice of certain rites. This action corresponds to the Hindu notion of “realizing the Self,” or experiencing a oneness with the divine source of all existence and order (Brahman). Such a task can only be accomplished by a gifted few, who by making this divine connection undergo an inner transformation. They became aware of immutable principles, in the name of which they go on to forge their ethnic kin into holistic States – microcosmic versions of the transcendental principle of Order itself. Thus, the Brahmins and Kshatriyas of India, the patricians of Rome, and the samurai of Japan had a “race of the spirit,” which is essential to “having race” itself. Others may have the races of body and soul, but race of the spirit is race par excellence.

Transcendence is experienced differently by different ethnic groups. As a result, different understandings of the immutable arise across the world; from these differences emerge several “races of the spirit.” Evola focuses on two in particular. The first is the “telluric spirit” characterized by a deep “connection to the soul.” This race worships the Earth in its various cultural manifestations (Cybele, Gaia, Magna Mater, Ishtar, Inanna, etc.) and a consort of “demons.” Their view of the afterlife is fatalistic: the individual spirit is spawned from the Earth and the returns to the Earth, or to the infernal realm of Mania, upon death, with no possibility.20 Their society is matriarchal, with men often taking the last names of their mothers and familial descent being traced through the mother. In addition, women often serve as high priestesses. The priesthood, in fact, is given preeminence, whereas the aristocratic warrior element is subordinated, if it exists at all.

This race has had representatives in all the lands of Europe, Asia, and Africa that were first populated by pre-Aryans: the Iberians, Etruscans, Pelasgic-Minoans, Phoenicians, the Indus Valley peoples, and all others of Mediterranean, Oriental, and Negroid origin. The invasions of Aryan stock would introduce to these peoples a diametrically opposed racial spirit: the “Solar” or “Olympian” race.

The latter race worships the heavenly god of Order, manifested as Brahman, Ahura-Mazda, Tuisto (the antecedent of Odin), Chronos, Saturn, and the various sun deities from America to Japan. Its method of worship is not the self-prostration and humility practiced by Semites, or the ecstatic orgies of Mediterraneans, but heroic action (for the warriors) and meditative contemplation (for the priests), both of which establish a direct link with the divine. Olympian societies are hierarchical, with a priestly caste at the top, followed by a warrior caste, then a caste of tradesmen, and finally a laboring caste. The ruler himself assumes the dual role of priest and warrior, which demonstrates that the priesthood did not occupy the helm of society as they did among telluric peoples. Finally, the afterlife was not seen as an inescapable dissolution into nothingness, but as one of two potential conclusions of a test. Those who live according to the principles of their caste, without straying totally from the path, and who come to “realize the Self,” experience a oneness with God and enter a heavenly realm that is beyond death. Those who live a worthless, restless existence that places all emphasis on material and physical things, without ever realizing the presence of the divine Self within all life,, undergoes the “second death,”21 or the return to the collective racial mind-spirit mentioned earlier.

The Olympian race has appeared throughout history in the following forms: in America as the Incas; in Europe and Asia as the Indo-European speaking peoples; in Africa as the Egyptians, and in the Far East as the Japanese. Generally, this race of the spirit has been carried by waves of phenotypically Nordic peoples, which will be explained further below.

Racial Genesis

Of considerable importance to Evola’s racial worldview is his explanation of human history. Contrary to the views of most physical anthropologists and archaeologists, and even many intellectual white racialists, humanity did not evolve from a primitive, simian ancestor, and then branch off into different genetic populations. Evolution itself is a fallacy to Evola, who believed it to be rooted in the equally false ideology of progressivism: “We do not believe that man is derived from the ape by evolution. We belive that the ape is derived from man by involution. We agree with De Maistre that savage peoples are not primitive peoples, but rather the degenerating remnants of more ancient races that have disappeared.22

Evola argues in many of his works, like Bal Ganghadar Tilak and Rene Guenon before him, that the Aryan peoples of the world descend from a race that once inhabited the Arctic. In “distant prehistory” this land was the seat of a super-civilization – “super” not for its material attainments, but for its connection to the gods – that has been remembered by various peoples as Hyperborea, Airyana-Vaego, Mount Meru, Tullan, Eden, and other labels; Evola uses the Hellenic rendition “Hyperborea” more than the rest, probably to remain consistent and avoid confusion among his readers. The Hyperboreans themselves, as he explains, were the original bearers of the Olympian racial spirit.

Due to a horrific cataclysm, the primordial seat was destroyed, and the Hyperboreans were forced to migrate. A heavy concentration of refugees ended up at a now lost continent somewhere in the Atlantic, where they established a new civilization that corresponded to the “Atlantis” of Plato and the “Western land” of the Celts and other peoples. History repeated itself, and ultimately this seat was also destroyed, sending forth and Eastward-Westward wave of migrants. As Evola notes, this particular wave “[corresponded[ to Cro-Magnon man, who made his appearance toward the end of the glacial age in the Western part of Europe,"23 thus leading some historical evidence to his account. This "pure Aryan" stock would ultimately become the proto-Nordic race of Europe, which would then locally evolve into the multitude of Nordic stocks who traveled across the world and founded the grandest civilizations, from Incan Peru to Shintoist Japan.

Evola spends less time tracing the genesis of nonwhite peoples, which he consistently refers to as "autochthonous," "bestial," and "Southern" races." In his seminal work Revolt Against the Modern World, he says that the "proto-Mongoloid and Negroid races ... probably represented the last residues of the inhabitants of a second prehistoric continent, now lost, which was located in the South, and which some designated as Lemuria."24 In contrast to the superior Nordic-Olympians, these stocks were telluric worshippers of the Earth and its elemental demons. Semites and other mixed races, Evola asserts, are the products of miscegenation between Atlantean settlers and these Lemurian races. Civilizations such as those of the pre-Hellenes, Mohenjo-Daro, pre-dynastic Egyptians, and Phoenicians, among countless others, were founded by mixed peoples.

Racialism in Practice

Racialist movements from National Socialist Germany to contemporary America have tended to emphasize preserving physical racial types. While phenotypes were important to Evola, his foremost goal for racialism was to safeguard the Olympian racial spirit of European man. It was from this spirit that the greatest Indo-European civilizations received the source of their leadership, the principles around which they centered their lives, and thus the wellspring of their vitality. While de Gobineau, Grant, and Hitler argued that blood purity was the determining factor in the life of a civilization, Evola contended that "Only when a civilization's 'spiritual race' is worn out or broken does its decline set in."25 Any people who manages to maintain a physical racial ideal with no inner spiritual substance is a race of "very beautiful animals destined to work,"26 but not destined to produce a higher civilization.

The importance of phenotypes is described thusly: "The physical from is the instrument, expression, and symbol of the psychic form."27 Evola felt that it would only be possible to discover the desired spiritual type (Olympian) through a systematic examination of physical types. Even to Evola, a Sicilian born, the best place to look in this regard was the "Aryan or Nordic-Aryan body"; as he mentions on several occasions, it was, after all, this race that carried the Olympian Tradition across the world. He called this process of physical selection "racism of the first degree," which was the first of three stages.

Once the proper Nordic phenotype was identified, various "appropriate" tests comprising racism of the second and third degrees would be implemented to determine a person's racial soul and spirit.28 Evola never laid out a specific program for this, but makes allusions in his works to assessments in which a person's political and racial opinions would be taken into account. In his Elements of Racial Education, he asserts that "The one who says yes to racism is one in which race still lives," and that one who has race is intrinsically against democratic ideals. He also likens true racism to the "classical spirit," which is rooted in "exaltation of everything which has form, face, and individuation, as opposed to what is formless, vague, and undifferentiated."29 Keep in mind that for Evola, "having race" is synonymous with having the "Olympian race" of the spirit. Upon discovering a mentality that fits the criteria for soul and spirit, a subsequent education of "appropriate disciplines" would be carried out to ensure that the racial spirit within this person is "maintained and developed." Through such trials, conducted on a wide scale, a nation can determine those people within it who embody the racial ideal and the capacity for leadership.

Protecting and developing the Nordic-Olympians was primary for Evola, but his racialism had other goals. He sought to produce the "unified type," or a person in whom the races of body, soul, and spirit matched one another and worked together harmoniously. For example: "A soul which experiences the world as something before which it takes a stand actively, which regards the world as an object of attack and conquest, should have a face which reflects by determined and daring features this inner experience, a slim, tall, nervous, straight body - an Aryan or Nordic-Aryan body."30

This was because "it is not impossible that physical appearances peculiar to a given race may be accompanied by the psychic traits of a different race."31 To Evola, if people chose mates on the basis of physical features alone, there is a good chance that various mental and spiritual elements would become intermingled and generate a dangerous confusion; there would be Nordics with Semitic mental characteristics and Asiatic spiritual predispositions, Alpines with Nordic proclivities and fatalistic religious attitudes, and so on. Such a mixture was what Evola considered to be a mongrel type, in whom "cosmopolitan myths of equality" become manifested mentally, thus paving the way for the beasts of democracy and communism to permeate the nation and take hold.

Evola cared more about the aristocratic racial type, but he did not want the populace to become a bastardized mass: "We must commit ourselves to the task of applying to the nation as a whole the criteria of coherence and unity, of correspondence between outer and inner elements."32 If the aristocracy had as its subjects a blob of spiritless, internally broken people, the nation would have no hope. For the Fascist state, he promoted an educational campaign to ensure that the peoples of Italy selected their mates appropriately, looking for both appearances and behavior; non-Europeans would of course be excluded entirely. The school system would play its role, as would popular literature and films.33

Another way to develop the "inner race" is through combat. Not combat in the modern sense of pressing a button and instantly obliterating a hundred people, but combat as it unfolds in the trenches and on the battlefield, when it is man against man, as well as man against his inner demons. Evola writes, "the experience of war, and the instincts and currents of deep forces which emerge through such an experience, give the racial sense a right, fecund direction."34 Meanwhile, the comfortable bourgeois lifestyle and its pacifist worldview lead to the crippling of the inner race, which will ultimately become extinguished if external damage is thenceforth inflicted (via intermixing with inferior elements).

Conclusion

American racialists have much to gain from an introduction to Evola's thoughts on race. In the American context, racialism is virtually devoid of any higher, spiritual element; many racialists even take pride in this. There are, without a doubt, many racialists who consider themselves devout Catholics or Protestants, and they may even be so. However, the reality of race as a spiritual phenomenon is given little attention, if any at all. For whatever reason, American racialists are convinced that the greatness of Western civilization, evinced by its literature, architecture, discoveries, inventions, conquests, empires, political treatises, economic achievements, and the like, like solely in the mental characteristics of its people. For instance, the Romans erected the coliseum, the English invented capitalism, and the Greeks developed the Pythagorean theorem simply because they all had high IQs. When one compares the achievements of different Western peoples, and those of the West to the East, however, this explanation appears inadequate.

Intelligence alone cannot explain the different styles that are conveyed through the culture forms of different peoples; the Greeks' Corinthian order on the one hand, and the Arabs' mosques and minarets on the other, are not results of mere intellect. Sociological explanations do not work either; the Egyptians and Mayans lived in vastly different environments, yet both evoked their style through pyramids and hieroglyphs. The only explanation of these phenomena is that there is something deeper within a folk, something deeper and more powerful than bodily structures and mental predispositions. As Evola elucidates through his multitude of works - themselves the result of intense study of ancient and modern texts from every discipline imaginable - race has a "super-biological" aspect: a spiritual force. Ancient peoples understood this reality and conveyed it through their myths: the Romans used the lares; the Mayans used totemic animal symbols; the Persians used the fravashi, which were synonymous with the Nordic valkyries;35 the Egyptians used the ka; and the Hindus in the Bhagavad-Gita used Lord Krishna.

To better understand the spiritual side of race, the best place to look is Julius Evola. Through his works, which have greatly influenced the European New Right, Evola dissects and examines the concept of the Volksgeist, or racial spirit. It is the supernatural force that animates the bodies of a given race and stimulates the wiring in their brains. It is the substance from which cultures arise, and from which an aristocracy materializes to raise those cultures to higher civilizations. Without it, a race is simply a tribe of automatons that feed and copulate.

When the super biological element that is the center and the measure of true virility is lost, people can call themselves men, but in reality they are just eunuchs and their paternity simply reflects the quality of animals who, blinded by instinct, procreate randomly other animals, who in turn are mere vestiges of existence.36

Nowhere would Evola's racial ideas be more valuable than in the United States, a land in which the idea of transcendent realities is mocked, if not violently attacked. Even American racialists, who nostalgically look back to "better" times when people were more "traditional," are completely unaware of how the Aryan Tradition, in its purest form, understand the concept of race. Many of these people claim to be "Aryan" while simultaneously calling themselves "atheist" or "agnostic," although in ancient societies, one needed to practice the necessary religious rites and undergo certain trials before having the right to style oneself an Aryan. Hence the need for these "atheist Aryans" to become more familiar with Julius Evola.

Michael Bell writes about race and popular culture from a Radical Traditionalist point of view.

________________________________

[1] William Z. Ripley, The Races of Europe: A Sociological Study (New York: D. Appleton and Co., 1899), 1.
[2] Madison Grant, The Passing of the Great Race (North Stratford, NHL Ayer Company Publishers, Inc., 2000), xix.
[3] H.F.K. Gunther, The Racial Elements of European History, trans. G.C. Wheeler (Uckfield, Sussex, UK: Historical Review Press, 2007), 9.
[4] Philippe Rushton, “Statement on Race as a Biological Concept,” November 4, 1996, http://www.nationalistlibrary.com/index2.php?option=com_content&do_pdf=1&id=1354.
[5] Oswald Spengler, The Decline of the West, 2 vols, trans. Charles Francis Atkinson (New York: Knopf, 1926 & 1928), vol. 1, chs. 6 and 9; cf. vol. 2, ch. 5, “Cities and Peoples. (B) Peoples, races, Tongues.”
[6] Francis Parker Yockey, Imperium (Newport Beach, Cal.: Noontide Press, 2000), 293.
[7] See the Introduction to Julius Evola, Men Among the Ruins, trans. Guido Stucco, (Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions International, 2002).
[8] Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 48.
[9] Julius Evola, The Elements of Racial Education, trans. Thompkins and Cariou (Thompkins & Cariou, 2005), 11.
[10] Evola, Elements of a Racial Education, 34-35.
[11] For more on the Levantine “race of the soul” see Elements of Racial Education, 35.
[12] Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 35.
[13] Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 259.
[14] Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 262.
[15] Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 260. Evola’s descriptions of Nordic and Mediterranean proclivities show the strong influence of Gunthers’s The Racial Elements of European History.
[16] Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 29.
[17] Julius Evola, Metaphysics of War: Battle, Victory, & Death in the World of Tradition, ed. John Morgan and Patrick Boch (Aarhus, Denmark: Integral Tradition Publishing, 2007), 63.
[18] Julius Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, trans. Guido Stucco (Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions International, 1995), 48.
[19] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 48.
[20] Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 40.
[21] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 48.
[22] Julius Evola, Eros and the Mysteries of Love, trans. anonymous (Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions International, 1991, 9.
[23] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 195.
[24] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 197.
[25] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 58.
[26] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 170.
[27] Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 30.
[28] Julius Evola, “Race as a Builder of Leaders,” trans. Thompkins and Cariou, http://thompkins_cariou.tripod.com/id7.html.
[29] Evola, The Elements of Racial Education, 14, 15.
[30] Evola, The Elements of Racial Education, 31.
[31] Evola, “Race as a Builder of Leaders.”
[32] Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 33.
[33] Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 25.
[34] Evola, Metaphysics of War, 69
[35] Evola, Metaphysics of War, 34.
[36] Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 170.

mercredi, 28 septembre 2011

Absolute Woman: A Clarification of Evola’s Thoughts on Women

Absolute Woman:
A Clarification of Evola’s Thoughts on Women

By Amanda BRADLEY

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

evola08.jpgOne of the central concepts of Julius Evola’s philosophy of gender is the distinction between absolute man and absolute woman. But he seldom gives explicit definitions of these terms. Absolute man and woman can be likened to Platonic Forms, thus defining them can be as difficult as defining Justice, Truth, or Love.

The term “absolute woman” inspires more controversy than “absolute man.” Since the male principle is associated with light, goodness, and activity, whereas the female principle is associated with darkness, evil, and passivity, feminists can easily claim that Evola’s views are inherently misogynist. Another point of controversy is Otto Weininger’s influence on Evola. Evola himself admits that Weininger must be read critically due to “his unconscious misogynous complex” (Julius Evola, Eros and the Mysteries of Love: The Metaphysics of Sex [Rochester, Vermont.: Inner Traditions, 1991], 157–58).

It is important to address Evola’s writings on women so that his views are correctly understood. Since he was opposed to the emerging feminism of his day, it would be easy for those unfamiliar with his ideas to infer that Evola also was anti-woman. By explaining his views and not glossing over any points that do in fact sound misogynistic (as is the case with some Evola devotees) the New Right can set the terms of discourse and accurately elucidate his position.

Evola on the Composition of Human Beings

The simplest definition of “absolute woman” is the female principle, the feminine force of the universe. Individual men and woman have varying degrees of the absolute man and woman, although the feminine principle usually is the underlying force in women.

In the modern world (the Kali Yuga) these forces appear in more degenerate forms and also do not always manifest properly. In fact, Evola said that “cases of full sexual development are seldom found. Almost every man bears some traces of femininity and every woman residues of masculinity . . . the traits that we deemed typical for the female psyche can be found in man as well as women, particularly in regressive phases of a civilization” (Eros, 169). In addition, these “manifest differently depending on the race and type of civilization” (Eros, 168).

To understand the influence of the “absolute woman,” it is first necessary to understand Evola’s conception of the human being. He held that humans are comprised of three parts:

  1. the outer individual (the personality, or ego).
  2. the level of profound being, the site of the principium individuationis. This is the true “face” of a person as opposed to the mask of the ego.
  3. the level of elementary forces that are “superior and prior to the individuation but acting as the ultimate seat of the individual.” (Eros, 36)

It is at the third level, that of elementary forces, where sexual attraction is aroused (Eros, 36). Thus it is here that the elementary forces that comprise the absolute man or woman are located. This matches Evola’s description of some modern women, who are able to develop “masculine” skills such as logic or intellectualism. He says they have done so “by way of a layer placed on top of [their] deepest nature” (Eros, 151–52). However, they have not succeeded in altering their fundamental nature, only their superficial personalities.

A Metaphysical Starting-Point for Male and Female

According to Traditional doctrines, the sexes were metaphysical forces before they manifested in the world. Absolute man and woman exist from the beginning of time, when the Universal One splits into a Dyad, which then causes the rest of creation. In most forms of Hinduism, Shiva, the male principle, is identified with pure Being. Shakti, the female principle, is identified with Becoming and Change. In a similar vein, Aristotle associated the male principle with form and the female with matter. According to Evola, form means “the power that determines and arouses the principle of motion, development, becoming” while matter means “the substance or power that, being devoid of form in itself, can take up any form, and which in itself is nothing but can become everything when it has been awakened and fecundated” (Eros, 118). In the Far Eastern tradition, yang (the male principle) is associates with heaven, while yin (the female principle) is associated with the earth (Julius Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, trans. Guido Stucco [Rochester, Vermont: Inner Traditions: 1995], 157.).Thus, form and matter combined to create the manifested universe. And from the coitus of Shiva and Shakti “springs the world” (Eros, 122). (This is in contrast to Oswald Spengler, who believed that becoming was the essential element, rather than steadfast being.)

The male principle is associated with truth, light, the Sun, virility, activeness, and stability. Sometimes it is associated with the Universal One that existed before the Dyad. The female quality is associated with deception, changeability, the moon, the earth, darkness, wetness, passivity, and dependence on another. In Evola’s words:

What the Greeks called “heterity,” that is, being connected to another or being centered on someone other than oneself, is a characteristic proper to the cosmic female, whereas to have one’s own principle in oneself is proper to the pure male. . . . female life is almost always devoid of an individual value but is linked to someone else in her need, born of vanity, to be acknowledged, noticed, flattered, admired, and desired (this extroverted tendency is connected to that “looking outside” which on a metaphysical level has been attributed to Shakti). (Eros, 157)

These forces then manifest in actual men and women. But Evola is clear to maintain that absolute man and woman are not simply aspects of character. Instead, they are “objective elements working in individuals almost as impersonally as the chemical properties inherent in a particular substance” (Eros, 152). As Evola says:

before and besides existing in the body, sex exists in the soul and, to a certain extent, in the spirit itself. We are man or woman inwardly before being so externally; the primordial male or female quality penetrates and saturates the whole of our being visibly and invisibly . . . just as a color permeates a liquid. (Eros, 32)

As such, the absolute woman is not simply an idealized concept of woman. She is defined from the divine down to the human, and is not a human conception of something divine.

Evola’s Description of Absolute Woman

The absolute woman is the rod by which all women are to be measured. Evola writes, “the only thing we can do is establish the superiority or inferiority of a given woman on the basis of her being more of less close to the female type, to the pure and absolute woman, and the same thing applies to man as well” (Eros, 34). In addition, superiority is defined by how closely one realizes the absolute woman or man. “A woman who is perfectly woman is superior to a man who is imperfectly man, just as a farmer who is faithful to his land and performs his work perfectly is superior to a king who cannot do his own work,” says Evola (Eros, 34).

Many more characteristics are associated with the female principle than those described below; however, these are the primary ones highlighted by Evola in his writings on the subject.

The Waters and Changeability

The fundamental feminine characteristic is changeability. Thus, the female is associated with water, which is fluid, and adapts to whatever form it is put into, just as matter/Shakti is shaped by form/Shiva. Evola writes that woman “reflects the cosmic female according to its aspect as material receiving a form that is external to her and that she does not produce from within” (Eros, 153). This fits in with Carl Jung’s description of woman’s animus, which is not self-created, but instead is a subconscious collection of the thoughts of men.

This changeability is related to woman’s tendency to live for someone outside of herself, due to the fluidity and changeability of her nature. For Evola, this means following the path of a mother or lover, fixing herself to a virile force in order to obtain transcendence. In contrast, “modern woman in wanting to be for herself has destroyed herself” (Revolt, 165.). By believing that she is merely her personality, she loses her transcendent aspect.

This changeability is seen in the association of the female with water. According to Evola, water represents “undifferentiated life prior to and not yet fixed in form,” that “which runs or flows and is therefore unstable and changeable,” and “the principle of all fertility and growth according to the analogy of water’s fertilizing action on earth and soil” (Eros, 119).

Evola also describes the correct relationship between the principle of water and that of fire, associated with the male: “when the feminine principle, whose force is centrifugal, does no turn to fleeting objects but rather to a ‘virile’ stability in which she finds a limit to her ‘restlessness’” (Revolt, 158).

Evola assents that certain modern women may appear very unchangeable, but stresses that this is at an outer level of her being:

a possible rigidity may follow the reception of ideas due precisely to the passive way she has adopted them, which may appear under the guise of conformity and conservatism. In this way, we can explain the apparent contrast inherent in the fact that female nature is changeable, yet women mainly show conservative tendencies sociologically and a dislike for the new. This can be linked to their role in mythology as female figures of a Demeter or chthonic type who guard and avenge customs and the law—the law of blood and of the earth, but not the uranic law. (Eros, 153)

Thus, a woman may be quite unchanging in her beliefs about society, etiquette, and morality, but will lack an attachment to a transcendent truth. Many of women’s ideas regarding social truths such as honor and virtue are “not true ethics but mere habits,” Evola says (Eros, 155).

This changeability of women explains the notion that women are at the same time more compassionate and more cruel than men; as woman is associated with the earth, she expresses both the tenderness of the mother and the cruelty of nature. The best example of this duality is the Greek goddess Artemis, who was both the protector of wild animals and the huntress.

Woman’s Lack of Being or Soul

Perhaps the most controversial characteristic of Evola’s absolute woman, which he gets from Weininger, is a common conception throughout history: that woman has no soul, or being. Weininger states that woman has no ego, referring to the Transcendental Ego of Immanuel Kant, which Evola describes as “above the whole world of phenomena (in metaphysical terms one would say ‘above all manifestation,’ like the Hindu atman)” (Eros, 151). In some schools of Hinduism, the atman (or “higher self”) is identical with the Brahman, the infinite soul of the Universe. In other Hindu conceptions, the atman is the life-principle. As manifested existence would be impossible without the atman, this description of woman as lacking a Transcendental Ego should not be taken to mean that women are incapable of developing and solidifying this aspect, though they may be at a disadvantage to men. Also, in the Kali Yuga, all people are the furthest removed from the divine, so modern men and women are likely in the same starting position in terms of development of Being.

Evola expands on the notion, stating that if soul means “psyche” or “principle of life,” then “it should signify in fact that woman not only has a soul but is eminently ‘soul,’” whereas man is not a soul but a “spirit.” He continues: “the point we believe settled is that woman is a part of ‘nature’ (in a metaphysical sense she is a manifestation of the same principle as nature) and that she affirms nature, whereas man by virtue of birth in the masculine human form goes tendentially beyond nature” (Eros, 151).

Deception and a Connection to Truth

Another attribute of absolute woman is deceitfulness. In fact, Evola states that it is so essential that telling lies has been acknowledged as an essential characteristic in female nature “at all times and in all places by popular wisdom” (Eros, 155). According to Weininger, this tendency is due to her lack of being. With no fixed essence, most women (and modern men) are attached to no transcendent truth, and therefore there is nothing to lie against—Truth only exists when one has substance and values. In Evola’s words:

Weininger observed that nothing is more baffling for a man than a woman’s response when caught in a lie. When asked why she is lying, she is unable to understand the question, acts astonished, bursts out crying, or seeks to pacify him by smiling. She cannot understand the ethical and transcendent side of lying or the fact that a lie represents damage to being and, as was acknowledged in ancient Iran, constitutes a crime even worse than killing. . . . The truth, pure and simple, is that woman is prone to lie and to disguise her true self even when she has no need to do so; this is not a social trait acquired in the struggle for existence, but something linked to her deepest and most genuine nature. (Eros, 155)

This quality of deceitfulness, while springing from the fundamental makeup of women, should not imply that it must be accepted as a given trait of all women, as some of Weininger’s writings imply. For, just like man, the ultimate goal of a woman’s existence is to connect with and live by the transcendent, which requires a fixation that cannot accept deception.

Woman’s Intuition, Man’s Ethics and Logic

Another idea Evola gets from Weininger is the notion that absolute woman, since she lacks being, also lacks memory, logic, and ethics (Eros, 154). In order to explain this, Evola distinguishes between two kinds of logic: everyday logic, which women can use quite successfully (though sometimes like a “sophist”) and “logic as a love of pure truth and inward coherence” (Eros, 154). This distinction can most commonly be seen when women use logic in arguments as a means to personal ends, rather than to arrive at a truth beyond their desires. Evola writes that

woman, insofar as she is woman, will never know ethics in the categorical sense of pure inner law detached from every empirical, eudemonistic, sensitive, sentimental, and personal connection. Nothing in woman that may have an ethical character can be separated from instinct, sentiment, sexuality, of “life”; it can have no relationship with pure “being.”

Women’s primary tool of cognition is not logic but intuition and sensitivity (Eros, 154).

In explaining memory, Evola turns to Henri Bergson, who described two types of memory. One is more common in women: the memory connected to the subconscious, which may remember dreams, have premonitions, and unexpectedly recall forgotten experiences. The second type of memory, which women lack due to their fluid nature, is “determined, organized, and dominated by the intellect” (Eros, 154).

The Female Principle as Powerful, Sovereign, and Active

Generally the female principle is described as passive, and the male as active. According to Evola, this only is true on the outermost plane. On the subtle plane, he says, “it is the woman who is active and the man who is passive (the woman is ‘actively passive’ and the man ‘passively active’)” (Eros, 167–68). In Hindu terms the impassible spirit (purusa) is masculine, while the active matrix of every conditioned form (prakriti) is feminine (Revolt, 157). Thus, to use the creation of a child as an example, man gives his seed, but it is woman who actively creates and gives birth to the child.

Mythology supports the sovereign aspect of woman. Evola gives the examples of the Earth goddess Cybele drawn in a chariot led by two tame tigers, and the Hindu goddess Durga seated on a lion with reins in her hands (Eros, 167). Evola states that man knows of this sovereign quality in women, and “often owing to a neurotic unconscious overcompensation for his inferiority complex, he flaunts before woman an ostentatious manliness, indifference, or even brutality and disdain. But this secures him the advantage, on the contrary. The fact that woman often becomes a victim on an external, material, sentimental, or social level, giving rise to her instinctive ‘fear of loving,’ does not alter the fundamental structure of the situation” (Eros, 167).

 

Association with the Demonic and Aspiration

Another “negative” quality of the absolute woman is that of aspiration, in the sense of a sucking quality, which also is associated with the demonic. On a profane level, in a degenerate form, this could be the woman who is constantly demanding more from her husband and others—more time spent together, a better car, a bigger house, or more attention. Since she has no “soul” (as defined above), she must fill the void within herself by sucking the vital force from others in emotional, monetary, or temporal vampirism.

On a metaphysical level, this quality merely refers to the divine female, Shakti, pulling Shiva into the world of manifestation. Thus, it is not good or bad, except for Gnostics or other sects who believe the created world to be evil. As Evola states, woman “is oriented toward keeping that order which Gnosticism, in a dualistic background, called the ‘world of the Demiurge,’ the world of nature as opposed to that of the spirit” (Eros, 141). This demonic element is expressed in actual life when women draw men to the realm of earth, nature, and children. It is expressed in sex when man’s seed being draw into the woman, creating a child bound by nature. “Although ‘woman’ can give life,” Evola writes, “yet she shuts off or tends to shut off access to that which is beyond life” (Eros, 142).

In some Eastern thought, the man’s seed is thought to be the spiritual manhood—hence the formation of sects that teach men to retain this force to attain liberation rather than wasting it through ejaculation. Women properly trained are said to be able to capture this essence during sex, thus seducing the man into giving up his manhood.

The positive aspect of this trait lies in woman’s ability to overcome it, most often by following the path of the mother or lover. In the actions required by these paths (if following them in an attitude of self-sacrifice and not self-aggrandizement), she no longer drains others, but instead learns to build up a vital force within herself through renunciation of desires. By relinquishing the control of the ego/personality by instead being devoted to others, woman is able to fix herself to the transcendent.

Like the other qualities of absolute woman, that of aspiration also can be found in man, especially in the Kali Yuga. Evola refers to sexual practices found in Chinese Taoism, India, and Tibet, where the man sucks the vital female energy from a woman during sex, a technique he describes as bordering on “male ‘psychic’ vampirism” (Eros, 249).

 

The Value of Absolute Woman in the Modern World

In the Golden Age, we can imagine that the metaphysical elements comprising a person manifested in the proper way. In such a time, the highest classes gave birth to the highest people; race was indicative of a corresponding inner quality; beauty on the outside attested to an inner beauty; and physical gender aligned with the qualities of absolute man or woman.

But in the Kali Yuga, there are pariahs in the highest classes, men who act like women, and men of Aryan stock who do not embody any of the virtues attributed to their race. As Evola says, it is possible for a person to be a different sex in the body than they are in the soul. These cases are similar to those where individuals of one race “have the psychic and spiritual characteristics of another race”(Eros, 34).

Therefore, men today may not innately possess any virile seed, just as modern women do not necessarily express the absolute female principle. In reading Evola’s work, then, we must not mistakenly interpret what he says about absolute man or woman as corresponding with individual men and women of today. Modern men and women are almost completely removed from the deepest aspects of themselves, functioning only as personalities. Thus, a person’s sex or caste has little importance in determining vocations or social relations. What relevance, then, do Evola’s descriptions of absolute man and woman have in the modern world?

An answer is found in the existential Angst that defined the twentieth century. Martin Heidegger wrote of the inauthentic life, and Jean-Paul Sartre of bad faith; most people today still fit the description of mere personalities, lacking divine connections or the means to find them. In a world that has lost its values and connection to Tradition, discovering these principles in our innermost natures becomes even more important. By examining Evola’s work, and that of other Traditionalists, we can find our way back to our true selves, the true relation between the sexes, and a connection to the transcendent.


Article printed from Counter-Currents Publishing: http://www.counter-currents.com

jeudi, 18 août 2011

Christian Kopff on Radical Traditionalism and Julius Evola

Christian Kopff on Radical Traditionalism and Julius Evola

samedi, 13 août 2011

Julius Evola: Um pessimismo justificado?

Julius Evola: Um Pessimismo Justificado?

 
por Franco Rosados
Ex: http://legio-victrix.blogspot.com/
MenAmongTheRuins.jpgFR: Você acredita que existe uma relação entre a filosofia e a política? Pode influenciar uma filosofia em uma iniciativa de reconstrução política nacional ou européia?
JE: Eu não creio que uma filosofia entendida em sentido estreitamente teórico possa influenciar na política. Para influenciar, necessita que encarne-se em uma ideologia ou em uma concepção do mundo. O que ocorreu, por exemplo, com a Ilustração, com o materialismo dialético marxista e com algumas concepções filosóficas que foram incorporadas à concepção de mundo do nacional-socialismo alemão. Em geral, a época dos grandes sistemas filosóficos conluiu-se; hoje não existem mais que filosofias bastardas e medíocres. Em uma de minhas obras passadas, de meu período filosófico, eu coloquei na dedicatória estas palavras de Jules Lachelier: "A filosofia, moderna, é uma reflexão que acabou por reconhecer a mesma impotência e a necessidade de uma ação que parta do interior." O domínio próprio de uma ação deste tipo tem um caráter metafilosófico. Daí, a transição que observa-se em meus livros, que não falam de "filosofia", senão de "metafísica", de visão do mundo e doutrinas tradicionais.
FR: Você pensa que moral e ética são sinonímicas e que tenham que possuir um fundamento filosófico?
JE: É possível estabelecer uma distinção, se por "moral" entende-se especificamente o costume e por "ética" uma disciplina filosófica (a chamada "filosofia moral"). Em minha opinião, qualquer ética ou qualquer moral que queira ter um fundamento filosófico de caráter absoluto, é ilusória. Sem referência a algo transcendente, a moral não pode ter mais que um alcance relativo, contingente, "social", e não pode resistir a uma crítica do individualismo, do existencialismo ou do niilismo. Eu demonstrei em meu livro Cavalgar o Tigre, no capítulo entitulado No mundo em que Deus morreu. Neste capítulo também abordei a problemática apresentada por Nietzsche e pelo existencialismo.
FR: Você crê que a influência do Cristianismo foi positiva para a civilização européia? Não pensa que ao ter adotado uma religião de origem semítica tenha desnaturalizado alguns valores europeus tradicionais?
JE: Falando de Cristianismo, muitas vezes usei a expressão "a religião que prevaleceu no Ocidente". Em efeito o maior milagre do Cristianismo é ter conseguido afirmar-se entre os povos europeus, inclusive tendo em conta a decadência em que caíram numerosas tradições destes povos. Não obstante, não faz falta esquecer os casos nos quais a cristianização do Ocidente foi exclusivamente exterior. Ademais, se o Cristianismo alterou, sem dúvida alguma, alguns valores europeus, também há casos nos quais estes valores ressurgiram do Cristianismo, retificando-o e modificando-o. De outro modo o catolicismo seria inconcebível em seus diferentes aspectos "romanos"; do mesmo modo seria inconcebível uma parte da civilização medieval com fenômenos como a aparição das grandes ordens cavalheirescas, do tomismo, certa mística de alto nível, por exemplo Mestre Eckhart, o espírito das Cruzadas, etcétera.
FR: Você considera que o conflito entre güelfos e guibelinos no curso da história européia seja algo mais que um simples episódio político e constituía um conflito entre duas formas de espiritualidade? Crê possível um recrudescimento do "guibelinismo"?
JE: A idéia de que as origens da luta entre o Império e a Igreja não foi somente uma rivalidade política, senão que esta luta traduziu a antinomia de dois tipos de espiritualidade, constitui o tema central de meu livro O Mistério do Graal e a tradição guibelina do Império. Este livro foi publicado em alemão e editar-se-á de pronto também em francês. No fundo, o "guibelinismo" atribuiu à autoridade imperial um fundamento de caráter sobrenatural e transcendente, algo que somente a Igreja pretendia possuir, o próprio Dante defende em parte a mesma tese. Assim, alguns teólogos guibelinos puderam falar de "religião real" e, em particular, atribuir um caráter sagrado aos descendentes dos Hohenstaufen. Naturalmente, com o império cristalizou um tipo de espiritualidade que não pode ser identificado com a espiritualidade cristã. Porém se estes são os dados do conflito güelfo-guibelino, está claro, então, que uma ressurreição do "guibelinismo" em nossa época é muito problemático. Onde encontrar, em efeito, as "referências superiores" para opor-se à Igreja, se isso não ocorre em nome de um Estado laico, secularizado, "democrático", ou "social", desprovido da concepção da autoridade procedente de cima? Já o "los von Rom" e o "Kulturkampf" do tempo de Bismarck tiveram somente um caráter político, para não falar das aberrações e da ficção de certo neopaganismo.
Evola-RAtMw.jpgFR: Em seu livro O Caminho do Cinabro, onde expõe a gênese de suas obras, admite que o principal defensor contemporâneo da concepção tradicional, René Guénon, exerceu certa influência sobre ela, ao ponto que definiram-te "o Guénon italiano". Existe uma correspondência perfeita entre seu pensamento e o de Guénon? E não crê, a propósito de Guénon, que certos entornos superestimam a filosofia oriental?
JE: Minha orientação não difere da de Guénon no que concerne ao valor atribuído ao Mundo da Tradição. Por Mundo da Tradição entende-se uma civilização orgânica e hierárquica na qual todas as atividades estão orientados pelo alto e para o alto e estão ligadas a valores que não são simplesmente valores humanos. Como Guénon, escrevi muitas obras sobre a sabedoria tradicional, estudando diretamente seus mananciais. A primeira parte de minha obra principal Revolta Contra o Mundo Moderno é precisamente uma "Morfologia do Mundo da Tradição". Também há correspondência entre Guénon e eu no que refere-se à crítica radical do mundo moderno. Sobre este ponto há não obstante divergências menores entre ele e eu. Dada sua "equação pessoal", na espiritualidade tradicional, Guénon assignou ao "conhecimento" e à "contemplação" a primazia sobre a "ação"; subordinou a majestade ao sacerdócio. Eu, ao contrário, esforcei-me em apresentar e valorizar a herança tradicional desde o ponto de vista de uma espiritualidade da "casta guerreira" e de ensinar as possibilidades igualmente oferecidas pela "via" da ação. Uma consequência destes pontos de vista diferentes é que, se Guénon assume como base para uma eventual reconstrução tradicional da Europa uma elite intelectual, eu, de minha parte, sou bastante propenso a falar de Ordem. Também divergem os juízos que Guénon e eu damos sobre o Catolicismo e a Maçonaria. Creio não obstante que a fórmula de Guénon não situa-se na linha do homem ocidental, que apesar de tudo, por sua natureza, está orientado especialmente para a ação.
Não pode-se falar aqui de "filosofia oriental", trata-se, em realidade, de uma modalidade de pensamento oriental que forma parte de um saber tradicional que, também no Oriente, manteve-se mais íntegro e mais puro que tomou o lugar da religião, porém que esteve difundido igualmente no Ocidente pré-moderno. Se estas modalidades de pensamento valorizam o que tem um conteúdo universal metafísico, não pode-se dizer que sejam superestimadas. Quando trata-se de concepção do mundo, faz falta guardar-se das simplificações superficiais. Oriente não compreende somente a Índia do Vedante, da doutrina do Maya, e da contemplação separada pelo mundo; também compreende à Índia que, com o Bhagavad Gita, deu uma justificativa sagrada para a guerra e para o dever do guerreiro; também inclui a concepção dualista e combativa da Pérsia antiga, a concepção imperial cosmocrática da antiga China, a civilização japonesa, tão distante por ser únicamente contemplativa e introvertida, onde uma fração esotérica do budismo deu nascimento à "filosofia" dos Samurais, etcétera.
Desgraçadamente, o que caracteriza o mundo europeu moderno não é a ação senão sua falsificação, quer dizer um ativismo sem fundamento, que limita-se ao domínio das realizações puramente materiais. "Está separada do céu com o pretexto de conquistar a terra", até não saber já o que é realmente a ação.
FR: Seu juízo sobre a ciência e sobre a técnica parece, em sua obra, negativo. Quais são as razões de sua posição? Não acredita que as conquistas materiais e a eliminação da fome e da miséria permitirão afrontar com mais energia os problemas espirituais?
JE: No que concerne o segundo tema que apresenta, dir-lhe-ei que, assim como existe um estado de embrutecimento devido à miséria, assim também existe um estado de embrutecimento devido ao bem-estar e à prosperidade. As "sociedades" do bem-estar, nas quais não pode-se falar de existência de fome e de miséria, estão longe de engendrar um aumento da verdadeira espiritualidade; mais bem, ali consta uma forma violenta e destrutiva de revolta das novas gerações contra o sistema em seu conjunto e contra uma existência desprovida de sentido, Estados Unidos-Inglaterra-Escandinávia. O problema consiste em fixar um limite justo, freando o frenesi de uma economia capitalista criadora de necessidades artificiais e liberando o indivíduo de sua crescente dependência da engrenagem social e produtiva. Faria falta estabelecer um equilíbrio. Até pouco tempo, o Japão deu o exemplo de um equilíbrio deste tipo; modernizou-se e não deixou-se distanciar do Ocidente nos domínios científicos e técnicos, inclusive salvaguardando suas tradições específicas. Porém hoje a situação é bem diferente.
yoga-power-julius-evola-paperback-cover-art.jpgHá um outro ponto fundamental a sublinhar: é difícil adotar a ciência e a técnica circunscrevendo-as dentro dos limites materiais e como instrumentos de uma civilização; ao revés, é praticamente inevitável que empapem-se da concepção do mundo sobre que baseia-se a moderna ciência profana, concepção praticamente inculcada em nossos espíritos pelos métodos de instrução habitual que tem, sobre o plano espiritual, um efeito destrutivo. O conceito mesmo do verdadeiro conhecimento vem assim a ser falseado totalmente.
FR: Você também falou de seu "racismo espiritual". Qual é o sentido exato dessa expressão?
JE: Em minha fase anterior, acredito necessário formular uma doutrina racial que teriam impedido que o racismo alemão e italiano concluíssem como uma forma de "materialismo biológico". Meu ponto de partida foi a concepção do homem como ser constituído de corpo, de alma e de espírito, com a primazia da parte espiritual sobre a parte corpórea. O problema da raça devia pois considerar cada um destes três elementos. Daí a possibilidade de falar de uma raça do espírito e da alma, ademais de uma raça biológica. A oportunidade desta formulação reside no fato de que uma raça pode degenerar, ainda permanecendo biologicamente pura, se a parte interior e espiritual morreu, minguou ou obscureceu,  se perdeu a própria força, como ocorre com alguns tipos nórdicos atuais. Ademais os cruzamentos, dos quais hoje poucas estirpes ficam fora podem ter como resultado que a um corpo de determinada raça estejam ligados em um indivíduo dado, o caráter e a orientação espiritual própria de outra raça, de onde deriva-se uma concepção mais complexa de mestiçagem. A "raça interior" manifesta-se pelo modo de ser, por um comportamento específico, pelo caráter, sem falar da maneira de conceber a realidade espiritual, os muitos tipos de religiões, de ética, de visões do mundo etcétera, podem expressar "raças interiores" bem ajustadas. Este ponto de vista permite superar muitas concepções unilaterais e ampliar o campo das investigações. Por exemplo, o judaísmo define-se acima de tudo nos termos de uma "raça" da alma, de uma conduta, única, observável em individuos que, desde o ponto de vista da raça do corpo, são muito diferentes. De outra parte, para dizer-se "ários", no sentido completo da palavra, não é necessário não possuir a mínima gota de sangue hebreu ou de uma raça de cor; faz falta acima de tudo examinar qual é a verdadeira "raça interior" ou seja o conjunto de qualidade que na origem corresponderam ao ideal do homem ariano. Tive ocasião de declarar que, hoje em dia, não deveria insistir-se demasiadamente no problema hebreu; em efeito, as qualidades que dominaram e dominam hoje em muitos tipos de judeus são, assim mesmo, evidentes em tipos "arianos", sem que nestes últimos possa-se invocar como atenuante a mínima circunstância hereditária.
FR: Na história da Europa, tem sido muitas as tentativas de formar um "Império Europeu": Carlos Magno, Frederico I e Frederico II, Carlos V, Napoleão, Hitler, porém ninguém logrou refazer, de maneira estável, o Império de Roma. Quais tem sido, segundo você, as causas destes fracassos? Pensa que hoje a reconstrução de um Império europeu seja possível? Se não, quais são as razões de seu pessimismo?
JE: Para responder, inclusive de maneira sumária, a esta pergunta, faria falta poder contar com um espaço maior que o de uma entrevista. Limitar-me-ei a dizer que os obstáculos principais, no caso do Sacro Império Romano, foi a oposição da Igreja, o início da revolta do Terceiro Estado, como no caso das Comunas italianas, o nacimento de Estados nacionais centralizados que não admitiam nenhuma autoridade superior e, por fim, a política, não imperial, senão imperialista da dinastia francesa. Eu não atribuiria, à  tentativa de Napoleão, um verdadeiro caráter imperial. Apesar de tudo, Napoleão foi o exportador das idéias da Revolução francesa, idéias que foram utilizadas contra a Europa dinástica e tradicional.
No que refere-se a Hitler, teria que fazer algumas reservar na medida em que sua concepção de Império baseou-se no mito do Povo, Volk = Povo-Raça, concepção que revestiu um aspecto de coletivização e exclusivismo nacionalista, etnocentrismo. Somente no último período do Terceiro Reich os pontos de vista estenderam-se, de uma parte graças à idéia de uma Ordem, defendida por alguns entornos da SS, de outra graças à unidade internacional das divisões européias de voluntários que combateram na frente oriental.
Pelo contrário, convém recordar o princípio de uma Ordem européia que existiu com a Santa Aliança, cuja decadência fiu imputável em grande parte à Inglaterra e também com o projeto chamado Drei Kaiserbund, nos tempos de Bismarck: a linha defensiva dos três imperadores que teria tido que englobar também à Itália, com a Tríplice Aliança e o Vaticano e opor-se às manobtas antieuropéias da Inglaterra e da própria América.
EvolaQSJ.jpgUm "Reich Europeu", não uma "Nação Européia", seria a única fórmula aceitável desde o ponto de vista tradicional para a realização de uma unificação autêntica e orgânica da Europa. Quanto à possibilidade de realizar a unidade européia desse modo, não posso não ser pessimista pelas mesmas razões que induziram-me a dizer que hoje, há pouco espaço para um renascimento do "guibelinismo": não há um ponto de referência superior, não existe um fundamento para dar solidez e legitimidade a um princípio de autoridade supranacional. Não pode-se em efeito descuidar deste ponto fundamental e conformar-se em recorrer à "solidariedade ativa" dos europeus contra as potências antieuropéias, passando por cima das divergências ideológicas. Inclusive quando chegara-se, com este método pragmático, a fazer da Europa uma unidade, sempre existiria o perigo de ver nascer, nesta Europa, novas contradições desagregadoras, em particular no que concerne às divergências ideológicas e e as causadas pela falta de um princípio de autoridade superior. Hoje é difícil falar de uma "cultura comum européia": a cultura moderna não conhece fronteiras; a Europa importa e exporta "bens culturais"; não somente no domínio da cultura, senão também no domínio do modo de vida, manifesta cada vez mais uma nivelação geral que, conjugada com a nivelação produzida pela ciência e pela técnica, providencia argumentos não aos que querem uma Europa unitária, senão aos que desejariam edificar um Estado mundial. Novamente, nos deparamos com o obstáculo constituído pela inexistência de uma verdadeira idéia superior diferenciadora, que deveria ser o núcleo do império europeu. Mais além de tudo isto, o clima geral é desfavorável: o estado espiritual de devoção, de heroísmo, de fidelidade, de honra na unidade, que deveria servir de cimento ao sistema orgânico de uma Ordem européia imperial é hoje, por assim dizer, inexistente. O primeiro a fazer deveria ser uma purificação sistemática dos espíritos, antidemocráta e antimarxista, nas nações européias. Sucessivamente, far-se-ia necessário poder sacudir as grandes massas de nossos povos com meios diferentes, seja recorrendo aos interesses materiais, seja com uma ação de caráter demagógico e fanático, que necessariamente, influiria na capa subpessoal e irracional do homem. Estes meios implicariam fatalmente certos riscos. Porém todos estes problemas são extremadamente difíceis de solucionar na prática; por outra parte, já tive ocasião de falar disso em um de meus livros, Homens Entre as Ruínas.

dimanche, 29 mai 2011

La réception d'Evola en Belgique


 

evola2.jpg

Entretien avec Robert Steuckers sur la réception de l’œuvre de Julius Evola en Belgique

 

Propos recueillis par Denis Ilmas

 

Q. : Monsieur Steuckers, comment avez-vous découvert Julius Evola ? Quand en avez-vous entendu parler pour la première fois ?

 

RS : Dans la Librairie Devisscher, au coin de la rue Franz Merjay et de la Chaussée de Waterloo, dans le quartier « Ma Campagne », à cheval sur Saint-Gilles et Ixelles. « Frédéric Beerens », un camarade d’école, un an plus âgé que moi, avait découvert « Les hommes au milieu des ruines » dans cette librairie, l’avait lu, et m’en avait parlé tandis que nous faisions la queue pour commander d’autres ouvrages ou quelques manuels scolaires. Ce fut la toute première fois que j’entendis prononcer le nom d’Evola. J’avais dix-sept ans. Nous étions en septembre 1973 et nous étions tout juste revenus d’un voyage scolaire en Grèce. Pour Noël, le Comte Guillaume de Hemricourt de Grünne, le patron de mon père, m’offrait toujours un cadeau didactique : cette année-là, pour la première fois, j’ai pu aller moi-même acheter les livres que je désirais, muni de mon petit budget. Je me suis rendu en un endroit qui, malheureusement, n’existe plus à Bruxelles, la grande librairie Corman, et je me suis choisi trois livres : « L’Etat universel » d’Ernst Jünger, « Un poète et le monde » de Gottfried Benn et « Révolte contre le monde moderne » de Julius Evola. L’année 1973 fut, rappelons-le, une année charnière en ce qui concerne la réception de l’œuvre d’Evola en Italie et en Flandre : tour à tour Adriano Romualdi, disciple italien d’Evola et bon connaisseur de la « révolution conservatrice » allemande grâce à sa maîtrise de la langue de Goethe, décéda dans un accident d’auto, tout comme le correspondant flamand de Renato del Ponte et l’animateur d’un « Centro Studi Evoliani » en Flandre, Jef Vercauteren. Je n’ai forcément jamais connu Jef Vercauteren et, là, il y a eu une rupture de lien, fort déplorable, entre les matrices italiennes de la mouvance évolienne et leurs antennes présentes dans les anciens Pays-Bas autrichiens.

 

Je dois vous dire qu’au départ, la lecture de « Révolte contre le monde moderne » nous laissait perplexes, surtout Beerens, le futur médecin chevronné, féru de sciences biologiques et médicales : on trouvait que trop d’esprits faibles, après lecture de ce classique, se laisseraient peut-être entrainer dans une sorte de monde faussement onirique ou acquerraient de toutes les façons des tics langagiers incapacitants et « ridiculisants » (à ce propos, on peut citer l’exemple d’un Arnaud Guyot-Jeannin, tour à tour fustigé par Philippe Baillet, qui lui reprochait l’ « inculture pédante du Sapeur Camember »,  ou par Christopher Gérard, qui le traitait d’ « aliboron » ou de « chaouch »). Une telle dérive, chez les aliborons pédants, est évidemment tout à fait possible et très aisée parce qu’Evola présentait à ses lecteurs un monde très idéal, très lumineux, je dirais, pour ma part, très « archangélique » et « michaëlien », afin de faire contraste avec les pâles figures subhumaines que génère la modernité ; aujourd’hui, faut-il s’empresser de l’ajouter, elle les génère à une cadence accélérée, Kali Yuga oblige. L’onirisme fait que bon nombre de médiocres s’identifient à de nobles figures pour compenser leurs insuffisances (ou leurs suffisances) : c’est effectivement un risque bien patent chez les évolomanes sans forte épine dorsale culturelle.

 

Mais, chose incontournable, la lecture de « Révolte » marque, très profondément, parce qu’elle vous communique pour toujours, et à jamais, le sens d’une hiérarchie des valeurs : l’Occident, en optant pour la modernité, a nié et refoulé les notions de valeur, d’excellence, de service, de sublime, etc. Après lecture de « Révolte », on ne peut plus que rejeter les anti-valeurs qui ont refoulé les valeurs impérissables, sans lesquelles rien ne peut plus valoir quoi que ce soit dans le monde.

 

« Révolte » et la notion de numineux

 

Plus tard, « Révolte » satisfera davantage nos aspirations et nos exigences de rigueur, tout simplement parce que nous n’avions pas saisi entièrement, au départ, la notion de « numineux », excellemment mise en exergue dans le chapitre 7 du livre et que je médite toujours lorsque je longe un beau cours d’eau ou quand mes yeux boivent littéralement le paysage à admirer du haut d’un sommet, avec ou sans forteresse (dans l’Eifel, les Vosges, le Lomont, le Jura ou les Alpes ou dans une crique d’Istrie ou dans un méandre de la Moselle ou sur les berges de la Meuse ou du Rhin). « Masques et visages du spiritualisme contemporain » nous a apporté une saine méfiance à l’endroit des ersatz de religiosité, souvent « made in USA », alternatives très bas de gamme que nous fait miroiter un vingtième siècle à la dérive : songeons, toutefois dans un autre contexte, à la multiplication des temples scientologiques, évangéliques, etc. ou à l’emprise des « Témoins de Jéhovah » sur des pays catholiques comme l’Espagne ou l’Amérique latine, qui, de ce fait, subissent une subversion sournoise, disloquant leur identité politique.

 

Nous n’avons découvert le reste de l’œuvre d’Evola que progressivement, au fil du temps, avec les traductions françaises de Philippe Baillet mais aussi parce que les latinistes de notre groupe, dont le regretté Alain Derriks et moi-même, commandaient les livres non traduits du Maître aux Edizioni di Ar (Giorgio Freda) ou aux Edizioni all’Insegno del Veltro (Claudio Mutti). Je crois n’avoir atteint une certaine (petite) maturité évolienne qu’en 1998, quand j’ai été amené à prendre la parole à Vienne en cette année-là, et à Frauenfeld, près de Zürich, en 1999, respectivement pour le centième anniversaire de la naissance d’Evola et pour le vingt-cinquième anniversaire de son absence. L’idée centrale est celle de l’ « homme différencié », qui pérégrine, narquois, dans un monde de ruines. Evola nous apprend la distance, à l’instar de Jünger, avec sa figure de l’ « anarque ».

 

Q. : Quelques années plus tard, la revue « Totalité » sera la première, dans l’espace linguistique francophone, à publier régulièrement des textes d’Evola. De « Totalité » émergeront une série de revues, telles « Rebis », « Kalki », « L’Age d’Or », puis les Editions Pardès. Comment tout cela a-t-il été perçu en Belgique à l’époque ?

 

RS : Le coup d’envoi de cette longue série d’initiatives, qui nous ramène à l’actualité éditoriale que vous évoquez, a été, à Bruxelles du moins, une prise de parole de Daniel Cologne et Georges Gondinet, dans une salle de l’Helder, rue du Luxembourg, à un jet de pierre de l’actuel Parlement Européen, qui n’existait pas à l’époque. C’était en octobre 1976. Depuis, le quartier vit à l’heure de la globalisation, échelon « Europe », Europe « eurocratique » s’entend. A l’époque, c’était un curieux mixte : fonctionnaires de plusieurs ministères belges, étudiants de l’école de traducteurs/interprètes (dont j’étais), derniers résidents du quartier se côtoyaient dans les estaminets de la Place du Luxembourg et, dans les rues adjacentes, des hôteliers peu regardants louaient des chambres de « 5 à 7 » pour bureaucrates en quête d’érotisme rapide camouflé en « heures supplémentaires », tout cela en face d’un vénérable lycée de jeunes filles, qui faisait également fonction d’école pour futures professeurs féminins d’éducation physique (le « Parnasse »). En arrière-plan, la gare dite du Quartier Léopold ou du Luxembourg, vieillotte et un peu sordide, flanquée d’un bureau de poste crasseux, d’où j’ai envoyé quantité de mandats dans le monde pour m’abonner à toutes sortes de revues de la « mouvance » ou pour payer mes dettes auprès du bouquiniste nantais Jean-Louis Pressensé. En cette soirée pluvieuse et assez froide d’octobre 1976, Daniel Cologne et Georges Gondinet étaient venus présenter leur « Cercle Culture & Liberté », à l’invitation de Georges Hupin, animateur du GRECE néo-droitiste à l’époque. Dans la salle, il y avait le public « nouvelle droite » habituel mais aussi Gérard Hupin, éditeur de « La Nation Belge » et, à ce titre, héritier de Fernand Neuray, le correspondant belge de Charles Maurras (Georges Hupin et Daniel Cologne étaient tous deux collaborateurs occasionnels de « La Nation Belge »). Maître Gérard Hupin était flanqué du Général Janssens, dernier commandant de la « Force Publique » belge du Congo. J’étais accompagné d’Alain Derriks, qui deviendra aussitôt le correspondant belge du « Cercle Culture & Liberté ». Les contacts étaient pris et c’est ainsi qu’en 1977, je me retrouvai, pour représenter en fait Derriks, empêché, à Puiseaux dans l’Orléanais, lors de la journée qui devait décider du lancement de la revue « Totalité ». Il y avait là Daniel Cologne (alors résident à Genève), Jean-François Mayer (qui fera en Suisse une brillante carrière de spécialiste ès religions), Eric Vatré de Mercy (à qui l’on devra ultérieurement quelques bonnes biographies d’auteurs), Philippe Baillet (traducteur d’Evola) et Georges Gondinet (futur directeur des éditions Pardès et, en cette qualité, éditeur de Julius Evola).

 

Je rencontre Eemans dans une Galerie de la Chaussée de Charleroi

 

eemans30.jpgTout cela a, vaille que vaille, formé un petit réseau. Mais il faut avouer, avec le recul, qu’il n’a pas véritablement fonctionné, mis à part des échanges épistolaires et quelques contributions à « Totalité » (une recension, un seul article et une traduction en ce qui me concerne…). Rapidement, Georges Gondinet deviendra le seul maître d’œuvre de l‘initiative, en prenant en charge tout le boulot et en recrutant de nouveaux collaborateurs, dont celle qui deviendra son épouse, Fabienne Pichard du Page. Lorsqu’il revenait de Suisse à Bruxelles, en passant par Paris, Cologne faisait office de messager. Il nous racontait surtout les mésaventures des cercles suisses autour du NOS (« Nouvel Ordre Social ») et de la revue « Le Huron », qu’il animait là-bas avec d’autres. Ainsi, en 1978, par un coup de fil, Cologne m’annonce avec fracas, avec ce ton précipité et passionné qui le caractérisait en son jeune temps, qu’il avait pris contact avec un certain Marc. Eemans, peintre surréaliste, historien de l’art et détenteur de savoirs voire de secrets des plus intéressants. A peine rentré dans la « mouvance », j’ai tout de suite eu envie de la sortir de ses torpeurs et de ses ritournelles : alors, vous pensez, un « surréaliste », un artiste qui, de plus, exposait officiellement ses œuvres dans une galerie de la Chaussée de Charleroi, voilà sans nul doute l’aubaine que nous attendions, Derriks et moi. J’étais à Wezembeek-Oppem quand j’ai réceptionné le coup de fil de Cologne : j’ai sauté sur mes deux jambes, couru à l’arrêt de bus et foncé vers la Chaussée de Charleroi, ce qui n’était pas une mince affaire à l’époque du « 30 » qui brinquebalait bruyamment, crachant de noires volutes de mazout, dans toutes les rues et ruelles de Wezembeek-Oppem avant d’arriver à Tomberg, première station de métro en ce temps-là. Il faisait déjà sombre quand je suis arrivé à la Galerie, Chaussée de Charleroi. Eemans était seul au fond de l’espace d’exposition ; il lisait, comme je l’ai déjà expliqué, « le nez chaussé de lunettes à grosses montures d’écaille noire ».  Agé de 71 ans à l’époque, Eemans (photo en 1930) m’a accueilli gentiment, comme un grand-père affable, heureux qu’Evola ait de jeunes lecteurs en Belgique, ce qui lui permettrait d’étoffer son projet : prendre le relais de Jef Vercauteren, décédé depuis cinq ans, sans laisser de grande postérité en pays flamand. Cologne disparu, amorçant sa « vie cachée » qui durera plus de vingt ans, le groupe bruxellois n’a pratiquement plus entretenu de liens avec l’antenne française du réseau « Culture & Liberté ». Il restait donc lié à Eemans seul et à ses initiatives. Gondinet, bien épaulé par Fabienne Pichard du Page, lancera « Rebis », « L’Age d’or », « Kalki » et les éditions Pardès (avec leurs diverses collections, dont « B-A-BA » et « Que lire ? »). Baillet continuera à traduire des ouvrages italiens (dont un excellent ouvrage de Claudia Salaris sur l’aventure de d’Annunzio à Fiume) puis participera à la revue « Politica Hermetica » et fera un passage encore plus bref que le mien au secrétariat de rédaction de « Nouvelle école », la revue de l’inénarrable de Benoist (cf. infra). Et les autres s’éparpilleront dans des activités diverses et fort intéressantes.

 

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Q. : Parlez-nous davantage de Marc. Eemans…

 

RS : Eemans a donc lancé son « Centro Studi Evoliani », que nous suivions avec intérêt. La tâche n’a pas été facile : Eemans se heurtait à une difficulté majeure ; en effet, comment importer le corpus d’un penseur traditionaliste italien, de surcroît ancien de l’avant-garde dadaïste de Tristan Tzara, dans un contexte belge qui ignorait tout de lui. Quelques livres seulement étaient traduits en français mais rien, par exemple, de son œuvre majeure sur le bouddhisme, « La doctrine de l’Eveil ». En néerlandais, il n’y avait rien, strictement rien, sinon quelques reprints tirés à la hâte et en très petites quantités à Anvers : il s’agissait des éditions allemandes de ses ouvrages, dont « Heidnischer Imperialismus ». En français, l’œuvre n’était que très incomplètement traduite et nous n’avions aucun travail sérieux d’introduction à celle-ci, à part un excellent essai de Philippe Baillet (« Julius Evola ou l’affirmation absolue »), paru d’abord comme cahier, sous la houlette du « Centro Studi Evoliani » français, dirigé par Léon Colas. Ni Boutin ni Lippi n’avaient encore sorti leurs thèses universitaires solidement charpentées sur Evola. Gondinet et Cologne, dans le cadre de leur « Cercle Culture & Liberté » n’avaient édité que quelques bonnes brochures et les tout premiers numéros de « Totalité » étaient fort artisanaux, faute de moyens. En fait, Eemans n’avait pas de véritable public, ne pouvait en trouver un en Belgique, en une telle époque de matérialisme et de gauchisme, où les grandes questions métaphysiques n’éveillaient plus le moindre intérêt. Mais il n’a pas reculé : il a organisé ses réunions avec régularité, même si elles n’attiraient pas un grand nombre d’intéressés. Au cours de l’une de celle-ci, j’ai présenté un article de Giorgio Locchi sur la notion d’empire, paru dans « Nouvelle école », la revue d’Alain de Benoist. Dans la salle, il y avait Pierre Hubermont, l’écrivain prolétarien et communiste d’avant-guerre, auteur de « Treize hommes dans la mine », ouvrage couronné d’un prix littéraire à la fin des années 20.  Hubermont, comme beaucoup de militants ouvriers communistes de sa génération, avait été dégoûté par les purges staliniennes, par la volte-face des communistes à Barcelone pendant la guerre civile espagnole, où ils avaient organisé la répression contre les socialistes révolutionnaires du POUM et contre les anarchistes. Mais Hubermont ne choisit pas l’échappatoire facile d’un trotskisme figé et finalement à la solde des services anglais ou américains : il tâtonne, trouve dans le néo-socialisme de De Man des pistes utiles. Pendant la seconde conflagration intereuropéenne, Hubermont se retrouve à la tête de la revue « Wallonie », qui préconise un socialisme local, adapté aux circonstances des provinces industrielles wallonnes, dans le cadre d’un « internationalisme » non plus abstrait mais découlant de l’idée impériale, rénovée, en ces années-là, par l’européisme ambiant, notamment celui véhiculé par Giselher Wirsing. Hubermont était heureux qu’un gamin comme moi eût parlé de l’idée impériale et, avec une extrême gentillesse, m’a prodigué des conseils. D’autres fois, le Professeur Piet Tommissen est venu nous parler de Carl Schmitt et de Vilfredo Pareto. Une dame est également venue nous lire des textes de Heidegger, à l’occasion de la parution du livre de Jean-Michel Palmier, « Les écrits politiques de Heidegger ». Les thèmes abordés à la tribune du « Centro Studi Evoliani » n’étaient donc pas exclusivement « traditionalistes » ou « évoliens ». Eemans lance également l’édition d’une série de petites brochures et, plus tard, nous bénéficierons de l’appui généreux de Salvatore Verde, haut fonctionnaire italien de ce qui fut la CECA et futur directeur de la revue italienne « Antibancor », consacrée aux questions économiques et éditée par les Edizioni di Ar (cette revue éditera notamment en version italienne une de mes conférences à l’Université d’été 1990 du GRECE sur les « hétérodoxies » en sciences économiques, que l’inénarrable de Benoist n’avait bien entendu pas voulu éditer, en même temps que d’autres textes, de Nicolas Franval et de Bernard Notin, sur les « régulationnistes » ; je précise qu’il s’agissait de la « cellule » mise sur pied à l’époque par le GRECE pour étudier les questions économiques). Toutes les activités du « Centro Studi Evoliani » de Bruxelles ne m’ont évidemment laissé que de bons souvenirs.

 

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Q. : Mais qui fut Eemans au-delà de ses activités au sein du « Centro Studi Evoliani » ?

 

RS : J’ai très vite su qu’Eemans avait été, après guerre, un véritable encyclopédiste des arts en Belgique. Plusieurs ouvrages luxueux sur l’histoire de l’art sont dus à sa plume. Ils ont été écrits avec grande sérénité et avec le souci de ménager toutes les susceptibilités d’un monde foisonnant, où les querelles de personnes sont légion. Ces livres font référence encore aujourd’hui. Dans un coin de son salon, où était placé un joli petit meuble recouvert d’une plaque de marbre, Eemans gardait les fichiers qu’il avait composés pour rédiger cette œuvre encyclopédique. Toutefois, il n’en parlait guère. Il m’a toujours semblé que la rédaction de ces ouvrages d’art appartenait pour lui à un passé bien révolu, pourtant plus récent que l’aventure de la revue « Hermès », qui ne cessait de le hanter. J’aurais voulu qu’il m’en parle davantage car j’aurais aimé connaître le lien qui existait entre cette peinture et ces avant-gardes et les positions évoliennes qu’il défendait fin des années 70, début des années 80. J’aurais aimé connaître les étapes de la maturation intellectuelle d’Eemans, selon une chronologie bien balisée : je suis malheureusement resté sur ma faim. Apparemment, il n’avait pas envie de répéter inlassablement l’histoire des aventures intellectuelles qu’il avait vécues dans les années 10, 20 et 30 du 20ème siècle, et dont les protagonistes étaient presque tous décédés. Au cours de nos conversations, il rappelait que, comme bon nombre de dadaïstes autour de Tzara et de surréalistes autour de Breton, il avait eu son « trip » communiste et qu’il avait réalisé un superbe portrait de Lénine, dont il m’a plusieurs fois montré une vignette. Il a également évoqué un voyage à Londres pour aller soutenir des artistes anglais avant-gardistes, hostiles à Marinetti, venu exposer ses thèses futuristes et machinistes dans la capitale britannique : le culte des machines, disaient ces Anglais, était le propre d’un excité venu d’un pays non industriel, sous-développé, alors que tout avant-gardiste anglais se devait de dénoncer les laideurs de l’industrialisation, qui avait surtout frappé le centre géographique de la vieille Angleterre.

 

L’influence décisive d’un professeur du secondaire

 

Eemans évoquait aussi le wagnérisme de son frère Nestor, un wagnérisme hérité d’un professeur de collège, le germaniste Maurits Brants (1853-1940). Brants, qui avait décoré sa classe de lithographies et de chromos se rapportant aux opéras de Wagner, fut celui qui donna à l’adolescent Marc. Eemans le goût de la mythologie, des archétypes et des racines. Pour le Prof. Piet Tommissen, biographe d’Eemans, ce dernier serait devenu un « surréaliste pas comme les autres », du moins dans le landerneau surréaliste belge, parce qu’il avait justement, au fond du cœur et de l’esprit, cet engouement tenace pour les thèmes mythologiques. Tommissen ajoute qu’Eemans a été marqué, très jeune, par la lecture des dialogues de Platon, de Spinoza et puis des romantiques anglais, surtout Shelley ; comme beaucoup de jeunes gens immédiatement après 1918, il sera également influencé par l’Indien Rabindranath Tagore, lequel, soit dit en passant, était vilipendé dans les colonnes de la « Revue Universelle » de Paris, comme faisant le lien entre les mondes non occidentaux (et donc non « rationnels ») et le mysticisme pangermaniste d’un Hermann von Keyserlinck, dérive actualisée du romantisme fustigé par Charles Maurras.

 

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Eemans a souvent revendiqué les influences néerlandaises (hollandaises et flamandes) sur son propre itinéraire intellectuel, dont Louis Couperus et Paul Van Ostaijen. Ce dernier, rappelle fort opportunément Tommissen, avait élaboré un credo poétique, où il distinguait entre la « poésie subconsciemment inspirée » (et donc soumise au pouvoir des mythes) et la « poésie consciemment construite » ; Van Ostaijen appelait ses éventuels disciples futurs à étudier la véritable littérature du peuple thiois des Grands Pays-Bas en commençant par se plonger dans leurs auteurs mystiques. Injonction que suivra le jeune Eemans, qui, de ce fait, se place, à son corps défendant, en porte-à-faux avec un surréalisme cultivant la provocation de « manière consciente et construite » ou ne demeurant, à ses yeux, que « conscient » et « construit ». A l’instigation surtout du deuxième manifeste surréaliste d’André Breton, lancé en 1929, un an après le décès de Van Ostaijen, Eemans explorera d’autres pistes que les surréalistes belges, dont Magritte, ce qui, au-delà des querelles entre personnes et au-delà des clivages politiques/idéologiques, consommera une certaine rupture et expliquera l’affirmation, toujours répétée d’Eemans, qu’il est, lui, un véritable surréaliste dans l’esprit du deuxième manifeste de Breton —qui évoque le poète romantique allemand Novalis—  et que les autres n’en ont pas compris la teneur et n’ont pas voulu en adopter les injonctions implicites. Si l’étape abstraite de la « plastique pure » a été une nécessité, une sorte d’hygiène pour sortir des formes stéréotypées et trop académiques de la peinture de la fin du 19ème siècle, le surréalisme ne doit pas se complaire définitivement dans cette esthétique-là. Il doit, comme le préconisait Breton, s’ouvrir à d’autres horizons, jugés parfois « irrationnels ».

 

 

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Quand Sœur Hadewych hérisse les surréalistes installés

 

Fidèle au credo poétique de Van Ostaijen (photo ci-dessus), Eemans s’était plongé, fin des années 20, dans l’œuvre mystique de Sœur Hadewych (13ème siècle), dont il lira des extraits lors d’une réunion de surréalistes à Bruxelles. L’accueil fut indifférent sinon glacial ou carrément hostile : pour Tommissen, c’est cette soirée consacrée à la grande mystique flamande du moyen âge qui a consommé la rupture définitive entre Eemans et les autres surréalistes de la capitale belge, dont Nougé, Magritte et Scutenaire. Toute l’animosité, toutes les haines féroces qui harcèleront Eemans jusqu’à sa mort proviennent, selon Tommissen, de cette volonté du jeune peintre de faire franchir au surréalisme bruxellois une limite qu’il n’était pas prédisposé à franchir. Pour les tenants de ce surréalisme considéré par Eemans comme « fermé », le jeune peintre de Termonde basculait dans le mysticisme et les bondieuseries, abandonnait ainsi le cadre soi-disant révolutionnaire, communisant, du surréalisme établi : Eemans tombait dès lors, à leurs yeux, dans la compromission (qui chez les surréalistes conduit automatiquement à l’exclusion et à l’ostracisme) et dans l’idéalisme magique ; il trahissait aussi la « révolution surréaliste » avec son adhésion plus ou moins formelle et provocatrice à l’Internationale stalinienne. Pour Eemans, les autres restaient campés sur des positions figées, infécondes, non inspirées par la notion d’Amour selon Dante (à ce propos, cf. notre « Hommage à Marc. Eemans sur http://marceemans.wordpress.com/ ). Pour poursuivre leur œuvre de contestation du monde moderne (ou monde bourgeois), les surréalistes, selon Eemans, doivent obéir à une suggestion (diffuse, lisible seulement entre les lignes) de Breton : occulter le surréalisme et s’ouvrir à des sciences décriées par le positivisme bourgeois du 19ème siècle. Breton, en 1929, en appelle à la notion d’Amour, telle que l’a chantée Dante. La voie d’Eemans est tracée : il sera le disciple de Van Ostaijen et du Breton du deuxième manifeste surréaliste de 1929. Pour concrétiser cette double fidélité, il fonde avec René Baert la revue « Hermès ».

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Le surréalisme y est « occulté », comme le demandait Breton, mais non abjuré dans sa démarche de fond et sa revendication primordiale, qui est de contester et de détruire le bourgeoisisme établi, et s’ouvre aux perspectives de Dante et de la mystique médiévale néerlandaise et rhénane. Cette situation générale du surréalisme français (et francophone) est résumée succinctement par André Vielwahr, spécialiste de ce surréalisme et professeur de français à la Fordham University de New York : « Le surréalisme éprouvait depuis plusieurs années des difficultés insolubles. Il sombrait sans majesté dans le poncif. L’écriture automatique, l’activité onirique s’étaient soldées par un supplément de ‘morceaux de bravoure ‘ destinés à relever les œuvres où ils se trouvaient sans jamais fournir la clé ‘capable d’ouvrir indéfiniment cette boîte à multiple fond qui s’appelle l’homme » (in : S’affranchir des contradictions – André Breton de 1925 à 1930, L’Harmattan, Paris, 1998, p.339). Aller au-delà des poncifs et trouver le clé (traditionnelle) qui permet de découvrir l’homme dans sa prolixité kaléidoscopique de significations et de le sortir de toute l’unidimensionnalité en laquelle l’enferme la modernité a été le vœu d’Eemans. Qui fut sans doute, à son corps défendant, l’exécuteur testamentaire de Pierre Drieu la Rochelle qui écrivait le 1 août 1925 une lettre à Aragon pour déplorer la piste empruntée par le mouvement surréaliste : Drieu reconnaissait que les surréalistes avaient eu , un moment, le sens de l’absolu, « que leur désespoir avait sonné pur », mais qu’ils avaient renié leur intransigeance et, surtout, qu’ils « avaient rejoint des rangs » et n’étaient pas « partis à la recherche de Dieu » (A. Vielwahr, op. cit., pp. 66-67). Aragon avait reproché à Drieu que s’être laissé influencé par les gens d’Action Française, qui étaient, disait-il, « des crapules ». En quémandant humblement la lecture des écrits mystiques de Sœur Hadewych, Eemans, jeune et candide, s’alignait peu ou prou sur les positions de Drieu, qu’il ne connaissait vraisemblablement pas à l’époque, des positions qui avaient hérissé les « partisans alignés du surréalisme des poncifs ». Notons qu’Eemans travaillera sur les rêves et sur l’écriture automatique, notamment à proximité d’Henri Michaux, qui sera, un moment, le secrétaire de rédaction d’ « Hermès ». Il reste encore à tracer un parallèle entre la démarche d’Eemans et celles d’Antonin Artaud, Georges Bataille, Michel Leiris et Roger Caillois. Mais c’est là un travail d’une ampleur considérable…  

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Eemans m’a souvent parlé de sa revue des années 30, « Hermès ». Il en possédait encore une unique collection complète. « Hermès » était une revue de philosophie, axée sur les alternatives au rationalisme et au positivisme modernes, dans une perspective apparemment traditionnelle ; en réalité, elle recourrait sans provocation à des savoirs fondamentalement différents de ceux qui structuraient un présent moderne sans relief et, partant, elle présentait des savoirs qui étaient beaucoup plus radicalement subversifs que les provocations dadaïstes ou les gestes des surréalistes établis : pour être un révolutionnaire radical, il fallait être un traditionnaliste rigoureux, frotté aux savoirs refoulés par la sottise moderne. « Hermès » voulait sortir du « carcan occidental » que dénonçaient tout à la fois les surréalistes et les traditionalistes, mais en abandonnant les postures provocatrices et en se plongeant dans les racines oubliées de traditions pouvant offrir une véritable alternative. Pour trouver une voie hors de l’impasse moderne, Eemans avait sollicité une quantité d’auteurs mais l’originalité première d’ « Hermès », dans l’espace linguistique francophone, a été de se pencher sur les mystiques médiévales flamandes et rhénanes. De tous ses articles dans « Hermès » sur Sœur Hadewych, sur Ruysbroeck l’Admirable, etc., Eemans avait composé un petit volume. Mais, malheureusement, il n’a plus vraiment eu le temps d’explorer cette veine, ni pendant la guerre ni après le conflit. Il faudra attendre les ouvrages du Prof. Paul Verdeyen (formé à la Sorbonne et professeur à l’Université d’Anvers) et de Geert Warnar (1) et celui, très récent, de Jacqueline Kelen sur Sœur Hadewych (2) pour que l’on dispose enfin de travaux plus substantiels pour relancer une étude générale sur cette thématique. Notons au passage qu’une exploration simultanée de la veine mystique flamande/brabançonne, jugée non hérétique par les autorités de l’Eglise, et des idées de « vraie religion » de l’Europe et d’ « unitarisme » chez Sigrid Hunke, qui, elle, réhabilitait bon nombre d’hérétiques, pourrait s’avérer fructueuse et éviter des dichotomies trop simplistes (telles paganisme/catholicisme ou renaissancisme/médiévisme, etc. empêchant de saisir la véritable « tradition pérenne », s’exprimant par quantité d’avatars).

 

Mystique flamando-rhénane et matière de Bourgogne

 

Dans l’entre-deux-guerres, l’exploration de la veine mystique flamando-rhénane, entreprise parallèlement à la redécouverte de l’héritage bourguignon, avait un objectif politique : il fallait créer une « mystique belge », non détachée du tronc commun germanique (que l’on qualifiait de « rhénan » pour éviter des polémiques ou des accusations de « germanisme » voire de « pangermanisme ») et il fallait renouer avec un passé non inféodé à Paris tout en demeurant « roman ». Les tâtonnements ou les ébauches maladroites, bien que méritoires, de retrouver une « mystique belge », chez un Raymond De Becker ou un Henry Bauchau, trop plongés dans les débats politiques de l’époque, nous amènent à poser Eemans, aujourd’hui, comme le seul homme, avec son complice René Baert, qui ait véritablement amorcé ce travail nécessaire. Autre indice : la collaboration très régulière à « Hermès » du philosophe Marcel Decorte (Université de Liège) qui donnait aussi des conférences à l’école de formation politique de De Becker et Bauchau dans les années 1937-39. Le lien, probablement ténu, entre Decorte, Eemans, Bauchau et De Becker n’a jamais été exploré : une lacune qu’il s’agira de combler. Les travaux sur l’héritage bourguignon ont été plus abondants dans la Belgique des années 30  (Hommel, Colin, etc.), sans qu’Eemans ne s’en soit mêlé directement, sauf, peut-être, par l’intermédiaire de la chorégraphe Elsa Darciel, disciple des grandes chorégraphes de l’époque dont l’Anglaise Isadora Duncan. Elsa Darciel avait entrepris de faire renaître les danses des « fastes de Bourgogne ». Malheureusement, ni l’un ni l’autre ne sont encore là pour témoigner de cette époque, où ils ont amorcé leurs recherches, ni pour évoquer le vaste contexte intellectuel où les cénacles conservateurs belges et ceux du mouvement flamand cherchaient fébrilement à se doter d’une identité bien charpentée, qui ne pouvait bien sûr pas se passer d’une « mystique » solide. Sur l’Internet, les esprits intéressés découvriront une étude substantielle du Prof. Piet Tommissen sur la personne d’Elsa Darciel, notamment sur ses relations sentimentales avec le dissident américain Francis Parker Yockey, alias Ulrick Varange.

 

Pendant la seconde guerre mondiale, Eemans a eu des activités de « journaliste culturel ». Cette position l’a amené à écrire quantité de critiques d’art dans la presse inféodée à ce qu’il est désormais convenu d’appeler la « collaboration », phénomène qui, rétrospectivement, ne cesse d’empoisonner la politique belge depuis la fin de la seconde guerre mondiale. On ne cesse de reprocher à Marc. Eemans et à René Baert la teneur de leurs articles, sans que ceux-ci n’aient réellement été examinés et étudiés dans leur ensemble, sous toutes leurs facettes et dans toutes leurs nuances (repérables entre les lignes) : Eemans se défend en rappelant qu’il a combattu, au sein d’un « Groupe des Perséides », la politique artistique que le IIIe Reich cherchait à imposer dans tous les pays d’Europe qu’il occupait. Cette politique était hostile aux avant-gardes, considérées comme « art dégénéré ». Eemans racontait aux censeurs nationaux-socialistes qu’il n’y avait pas d’ « art dégénéré » en Belgique, mais un « art populaire », expression de l’âme « racique » (le terme est de Charles de Coster et de Camille Lemonnier), qui, au cours des quatre premières décennies du 20ème siècle, avait pris des aspects certes modernistes ou avant-gardistes, mais des aspects néanmoins particuliers, originaux, car, in fine, l’identité des « Grands Pays-Bas » résidait toute entière dans son génie artistique, un génie que l’on pouvait qualifier de « germanique », donc, aux yeux des nouvelles autorités, de « positif », les artistes d’avant-garde dans ces « Grands Pays-Bas » étant tous des hommes et des femmes du cru, n’appartenant pas à une quelconque population « nomade », comme en Europe centrale. La « bonne » nature vernaculaire de ces artistes, en Flandre, ne permettait à personne de déduire de leurs œuvres une « perversité » intrinsèque : il fallait donc les laisser travailler, pour que puisse éclore une facette nouvelle de « ce génie germanique local et particulier ». L’énoncé de telles thèses, sans doute partagées par d’autres analystes collaborationnistes des avant-gardes, comme Paul Colin ou Georges Marlier, avait pour but évident d’entraver le travail d’une censure qui se serait avérée trop sourcilleuse. Finalement, on reprochera surtout à Eemans et à Baert d’avoir rédigé des articles pour le « Pays Réel » de Léon Degrelle. Baert assassiné en 1945, Eemans reste le seul larron du tandem en piste après la guerre. Il sera arrêté pour sa collaboration au « Pays Réel » et non pour d’autres motifs, encore moins pour le contenu de ses écrits (même s’ils portaient souvent la marque indélébile de l’époque). « Je faisais partie de la charrette du ‘Pays Réel ‘ », disait-il souvent. Après la fin des hostilités, après la levée de l’état de guerre en Belgique (en 1951 !), après son incarcération qui dura quatre années au « Petit Château », Eemans revient dans le peloton de tête des critiques d’art en Belgique : ses « crimes » n’ont probablement pas été jugés aussi « abominables » car le préfacier de l’un de ses ouvrages encyclopédiques majeurs fut Philippe Roberts-Jones, Conservateur en chef des Musées royaux d’art de Belgique, fils d’un résistant ucclois mort, victime de ses ennemis, pendant la seconde grande conflagration intereuropéenne.

 

« Hamer », Farwerck et De Vries

 

Sous le IIIe Reich, les autorités allemandes ont fondé une revue d’anthropologie, de folklore et d’études populaires germaniques, intitulée « Hammer » (« Le Marteau », sous-entendu le « Marteau de Thor »). Pendant l’été 1940, on décide, à Berlin, de créer deux versions supplémentaires de « Hammer » en langue néerlandaise, l’une pour la Flandre et l’autre pour les Pays-Bas (« Hamer »). Quand on parle de néopaganisme aujourd’hui, surtout si l’on se réfère à l’Allemagne nationale-socialiste ou aux innombrables sectes vikingo-germanisantes qui pullulent aux Etats-Unis ou en Grande-Bretagne, tout en influençant les groupes musicaux de hard rock, cela fait généralement sourire les philologues patentés. Pour eux, c’est, à juste titre, du bric-à-brac sans valeur intellectuelle aucune. C’est d’ailleurs dans ce sens qu’Eemans adoptera les thèses d’Evola consignées, de manière succincte, dans un article titré « Le malentendu du néopaganisme ». Mais ce reproche ne peut nullement être adressé aux versions allemande, néerlandaise et flamande de « Hammer/Hamer ». Des germanistes de notoriété internationale comme Jan De Vries, auteur des principaux dictionnaires étymologiques de la langue néerlandaise (tant pour les noms communs que pour les noms propres, notamment les noms de lieux) ont participé à la rédaction de cet éventail de revues. Eemans était l’un des correspondants de « Hamer »/Amsterdam à Bruxelles. Cela lui permettait de faire la navette entre Bruxelles et Amsterdam pendant le conflit et de s’immerger dans la culture littéraire et artistique de la Hollande, qu’il adorait. Il est certain que l’on a rédigé et édité des études sur « Hammer » en Allemagne ou en Autriche, du moins sur sa version allemande ou sur certains de ses principaux rédacteurs. Je ne sais pas si une étude simultanée des trois versions a un jour été établie. C’est un travail qui mériterait d’être fait. D’autant plus que la postérité de « Hamer »/Amsterdam et « Hamer »/Bruxelles n’a certainement pas été entravée par une quelconque vague répressive aux Pays-Bas après la défaite du IIIe Reich. De Vries est demeuré un germaniste néerlandais, un « neerlandicus », de premier plan, ainsi qu’un explorateur inégalé du monde des sagas islandaises. Son œuvre s’est poursuivie, de même que celle de Farwerck, que l’on n’a commencé à dénoncer qu’à la fin des années 90 du 20ème siècle ! De l’écolier de Termonde influencé par Brants, son professeur wagnérien, du cadet de famille influencé par Nestor, son aîné, autre Wagnérien, au disciple attentif de Van Ostaijen et du lecteur scrupuleux du deuxième manifeste surréaliste de Breton au directeur d’Hermès et au rédacteur de « Hamer », du réprouvé de 1944 au fondateur du « Centro Studi Evoliani » et au collaborateur d’ « Antaios » de Christopher Gérard, il y a un fil conducteur parfaitement discernable, il y a une fidélité inébranlable et inébranlée à soi et à ses propres démarches, face à l’incompréhension généralisée qui s’est bétonnée et a orchestré le boycott de cet homme à double casquette : celle du dadaïste-surréaliste-lénino-trostkiste et celle du wagnéro-mystico-évoliano-traditionaliste. Et pourtant, il y a, derrière cette apparente contradiction une formidable cohérence que sont incapables de percevoir les esprits bigleux. Ou pour être plus précis : il y a chez Eemans, surréaliste et traditionaliste tout à la fois, une volonté d’aller au « lieu » impalpable où les contradictions s’évanouissent. Un lieu que cherchait aussi Breton dès son second manifeste.  

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Après la guerre, Eemans participe à la revue « Fantasmagie » ; l’étude de « Fantasmagie » mérite, à elle seule, un bon paquet de pages. L’objectif de « Fantasmagie » était de faire autre chose que de l’art bétonné en une nouvelle orthodoxie, qui tenait alors le haut du pavé, après avoir balayé toute interrogation métaphysique. Dans les colonnes de « Fantasmagie », les rédacteurs vont commenter et valoriser toutes les œuvres fantastiques, ou relevant d’une forme ou d’une autre d’ « idéalisme magique ». On notera, entre bien d’autres choses, un intérêt récurrent pour les « naïfs » yougoslaves. Quant à Eemans, il se chargeait de la recension de livres, notamment ceux de Gaston Bachelard. Je compte bien relire les exemplaires de « Fantasmagie » qui figurent dans ma bibliothèque mais je n’écrirai de monographie sur cette revue, ou sur l’action et l’influence d’Eemans au sein de sa rédaction, que lorsque j’aurai dûment complété ma collection, encore assez lacunaire.

 

Harcèlement et guéguerre entre surréalistes

 

L’après-guerre est tout à la fois paradis, purgatoire et enfer pour Eemans. Dans le monde de la critique d’art, il occupe une place non négligeable : son érudition est reconnue et appréciée. En Flandre, on ne tient pas trop compte des allusions perfides à sa collaboration au « Pays Réel » et à « Hamer ». En revanche, dans l’univers des galeries huppées, des expositions internationales, des colloques spécifiques au surréalisme en Belgique et à l’étranger, un boycott systématique a été organisé contre sa personne : manifestement, on voulait l’empêcher de vivre de sa peinture, on voulait lui barrer la route du succès « commercial », pour le maintenir dans la géhenne du travail d’encyclopédiste ou dans l’espace marginal de « Fantasmagie ». Son adversaire le plus acharné sera l’avocat Paul Gutt (1941-2000), fils du ministre des finances du cabinet belge en exil à Londres pendant la seconde guerre mondiale. En 1964, Paul Gutt organise un chahut contre deux conférences d’Eemans en diffusant un pamphlet en français et en néerlandais contre notre surréaliste mystique et traditionaliste, intitulé « Un ton plus bas ! Een toontje lager ! » et qui rappelait bien entendu le « passé collaborationniste » du conférencier. Le même Paul Gutt s’était aussi attaqué au MAC (« Mouvement d’Action Civique ») de Jean Thiriart, futur animateur du mouvement « Jeune Europe », en distribuant un autre pamphlet, intitulé, lui, « Haut les mains ! ». En 1973, Eemans intente un procès, qu’il perdra, à Marcel Mariën qui, à son tour, pour participer allègrement à la curée et traduire dans la réalité bruxelloise les principes de la « révolution culturelle » maoïste qu’il admirait, avait rappelé le « passé incivique » de Marc. Eemans. L’avocat de Mariën était Paul Gutt. En 1979, dans son livre sur le surréalisme belge, qui fait toujours référence, Marcel Mariën, pour se venger, exclut totalement le nom de Marc. Eemans de son gros volume mais encourt simultanément, mais pour d’autres motifs, la colère de Georgette Magritte et d’Irène Hamoir, ancienne amie d’Eemans et veuve du surréaliste « marxiste pro-albanais » (poncif !) Louis Scutenaire. Marcel Mariën ne s’en prenait pas qu’à Eemans quand il évoquait l’époque de la seconde occupation allemande : dans ses souvenirs, publiés en 1983 sous le titre de « Radeau de la mémoire », il accuse Magritte d’avoir fabriqué dans ses caves de faux Braque et de faux Picasso, « pour faire bouillir la marmite »…. ! Plus tard, en 1991, le provocateur patenté Jan Bucquoy brûlera une peinture de Magritte lors d’un « happening », pour fustiger le culte, à son avis trop officiel, que lui voue la culture dominante en Belgique. On le voit : le petit monde du surréalisme en Belgique a été une véritable pétaudière, un « panier à crabes », disait Eemans, qui ne cessait de s’en gausser. 

 

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Q. : Mais existe-t-il une postérité « eemansienne » ? Que reste-t-il de ce travail effectué avant et après la création du « Centro Studi Evoliani » de Bruxelles ?

 

RS : Eemans était désabusé, en dépit de sa joie de vivre. Il était un véritable pessimiste : joyeux dans la vie quotidienne mais sans illusion sur le genre humain. Cette posture s’explique aisément en ce qui le concerne : ses efforts d’avant-guerre pour réanimer une mystique flamando-rhénane, pour réinjecter de l’Amour selon Dante dans le monde, pour faire retenir les leçons de Sohrawardi le Perse, n’ont été suivi d’aucuns effets immédiats. De bons travaux ont été indubitablement réalisés par quantité de savants sur ces thématiques, qui lui furent chères, mais seulement, hélas, au soir de sa vie, sans qu’il ait pu prendre connaissance de leur existence, ou après sa mort, survenue le 28 juillet 1998. L’assassinat par les services belges de son ami René Baert, dans les faubourgs de Berlin fin 1945, l’a profondément affecté : il en parlait toujours avec un immense chagrin au fond de la gorge. Un embastillement temporaire et des interdictions professionnelles ont mis un terme à l’œuvre d’Elsa Darciel, qui n’aurait plus suscité le moindre intérêt après guerre, comme tout ce qui relève de la matière de Bourgogne (à la notable exception du magnifique « Je soussigné, Charles le Téméraire, Duc de Bourgogne » de Gaston Compère). Eemans s’est plongé dans son travail d’encyclopédiste de l’histoire de l’art en Belgique et dans « Fantasmagie », terrains jugés « neutres ». Ces territoires, certes fascinants, ne permettaient pas, du moins de manière directe, de bousculer les torpeurs et les enlisements dans lesquels végétaient les provinces flamandes et romanes de Belgique. Car on sentait bien qu’Eemans voulait bousculer, que « bousculer » était son option première et dernière depuis les journées folles du dadaïsme et du surréalisme jusqu’aux soirées plus feutrées (mais nettement moins intéressantes, époque de médiocrité oblige…) organisées par le « Centro Studi Evoliani ». Eemans avait en effet bousculé la bien-pensance comme les garçons de son époque, avec les foucades dadaïstes et surréalistes, auxquelles Evola lui-même avait participé en Italie. Comme Evola, il a cherché une façon plus solide de bousculer les fadeurs du monde moderne : pour Evola, ce furent successivement le recours à l’Inde traditionnelle (Doctrine de l’Eveil, Yoga tantrique, etc.) et au Tao Te King chinois ; pour Eemans, ce fut le recours à la mystique flamando-rhénane, destinée à secouer le bourgeoisisme matérialiste belge, qui n’avait pas voulu entendre les admonestations de ses écrivains et poètes d’avant 1914, comme Camille Lemonnier ou Georges Eeckhoud, et s’était empressé d’abattre bon nombre de joyaux de l’architecture « Art Nouveau » d’Horta et de ses disciples, jugeant leurs audaces créatrices peu pratiques et trop onéreuses à entretenir ! Eemans aimait dire qu’il était le véritable disciple d’André Breton, dans la mesure où celui-ci avait un jour déclaré qu’il fallait s’allier, si l’opportunité se présentait, « avec le Dalaï Lama contre l’Occident ». Pour Evola comme pour Eemans, on peut affirmer, sans trop de risque d’erreur, que le « Dalaï Lama » évoqué par Breton, n’est rien d’autre qu’une métaphore pour exprimer nostalgie et admiration pour les valeurs anté-modernes, donc non occidentales, non matérialistes, qu’il convenait d’étudier, de faire revivre dans l’âme des intellectuels et des poètes les plus audacieux.

 

Le « Centro Studi Evoliani » : la déception

 

Une fois son travail d’encyclopédiste achevé auprès de l’éditeur Meddens, Eemans voulait renouer avec cette audace du « bousculeur » dadaïste, en s’arc-boutant sur le terrain d’action prestigieux que constituait l’espace de réflexion évolien, et en provoquant les contemporains en reliant à l’évolisme de la fin des années 70 ses propres recherches entreprises dans les années 30 et pendant la seconde guerre mondiale. Il a été déçu. Et a exprimé cette déception dans l’entretien qu’il nous a accordé, je veux dire à Koenraad Logghe et à moi-même (et que l’on peut lire un peu partout sur l’Internet, notamment sur http://euro-synergies.hautetfort.com et sur http://www.centrostudilaruna.it , le site du Dr. Alberto Lombardo). Pourquoi cette déception ? D’une part, parce que la jeune génération ne connaissait plus rien des enthousiasmes d’avant-guerre, ne faisait pas le lien entre les avant-gardes des années 20 et le recours d’Evola, Guénon, Corbin, Eemans, etc. à la « Tradition », n’avait reçu dans le cadre de sa formation scolaire aucun indice capable de l’éveiller à ces problématiques ; d’autre part, l’espace ténu des évoliens était dans le collimateur de la nouvelle bien-pensance gauchiste, qui étrillait aussi Eemans quand elle le pouvait (alors qu’on lui avait foutu royalement la paix dans les années 50 et 60). Etre dans le collimateur de ces gens-là peut être une bonne chose, être indice de valeur face aux zélotes furieux qui propagent toutes les « anti-valeurs » possibles et imaginables mais cela peut aussi conduire à attirer vers les cercles évoliens des personnalités instables, politisées, simplificatrices, que la complexité des questions soulevées rebute et lasse. En outre, toute une propagande médiatisée a diffusé dans la société une fausse « spiritualité de bazar », où l’on mêle allègrement toute une série d’ingrédients comme le bouddhisme californien, la cruauté gratuite, le nazisme tapageur, l’occultisme frelaté, le monachisme tibétain, la runologie spéculative, etc. pour créer des espaces de relégation vers lesquelles on houspille trublions et psychopathes, les rendant ainsi aisément identifiables, criminalisables ou, pire encore, dont on peut se gausser à loisir (exemple : « extrême-droite » = « extrême-druides », intitulé tapageur d’une émission de la RTBF). Sans compter les agents provocateurs de tous poils qui font occasionnellement irruption dans les cercles non-conformistes et cherchent à prouver qu’on est en train de ressusciter des « ordres occultes », préparant le retour de la « bête immonde ».

 

Eemans, âgé de 71 ans quand il lance le « Centro Studi Evoliani » de Bruxelles, n’avait nulle envie de répéter à satiété le récit des phases de son itinéraire antérieur face à un public disparate qui était incapable de faire le lien entre monde des arts et écrits traditionalistes ; ensuite, lui qui avait connu une revue de qualité dans le cadre du « national-socialisme » des années 40, comme « Hammer », n’avait nulle envie d’inclure dans ses préoccupations les fabrications anglo-saxonnes qui lancent dans le commerce sordide des marottes soi-disant « transgressives » un « occultisme naziste de Prisunic ». Il a décidé de mettre un terme aux activités du « Centro Studi Evoliani », car celui-ci ne pouvait pas, via l’angle évolien, ressusciter l’esprit d’ « Hermès », faute d’intéressés compétents. Une « Fondation Marc. Eemans » prendra le relais à partir de 1982, dirigée par Jan Améry. Elle existe toujours et est désormais relayée par un site basé aux Pays-Bas (http://marceemans.wordpress.com/), qui affiche les textes d’Eemans et sur Eemans dans leur langue originale (français et néerlandais). Au début des années 80, toutes mes énergies ont été consacrées à la nouvelle antenne néo-droitiste « EROE » (« Etudes, Recherches et Orientations Européennes »), fondée par Jean van der Taelen, Guibert de Villenfagne de Sorinnes et moi-même en octobre 1983, quasiment le lendemain de ma démobilisation (2 août), de mon premier mariage (25 août & 3 septembre) et de la défense de mon mémoire (vers le 10 septembre). 

 

La réception d’Evola en pays flamand est surtout due aux efforts des frères Logghe : Peter Wim, l’aîné, et Koenraad, le cadet. Peter Wim Logghe, au départ juriste dans une compagnie d’assurances, a fait connaître, de manière succincte et didactique, l’œuvre d’Evola dans plusieurs organes de presse néerlandophones, dont « Teksten, Kommentaren en Studies », l’organe du GRECE néo-droitiste en Flandre, et a traduit « Orientations » en néerlandais (pour le « Centro Studi Evoliani » d’Eemans). Koenraad Logghe, pour sa part, créera en Flandre un véritable mouvement traditionnel, au départ de sa première revue, « Mjöllnir », organe d’un « Orde der Eeuwige Werderkeer » (OEW) ou « Ordre de l’Eternel Retour ». Allègre et rigoureuse, païenne dans ses intentions sans verser dans un paganisme caricatural et superficiel, cette publication, artisanale faute de moyens financiers, mérite qu’on s’y arrête, qu’on l’étudie sous tous ses aspects, sous l’angle de tous les thèmes et figures abordés (essentiellement le domaine germanique/scandinave, l’Edda, Beowulf, etc. , dans la ligne de « Hamer » et du grand philologue néerlandais Jan de Vries ; une seule étude sur Evola y a été publiée dans les années 1983-85, sur « Ur & Krur » par Manfred van Oudenhove). Koenraad Logghe fondera ensuite le groupe « Traditie », suite logique de son OEW, avant de s’en éloigner et de poursuivre ses recherches en solitaire, couplant l’héritage traditionnel de Guénon essentiellement, à celui du Néerlandais Farwerck et aux recherches sur la symbolique des objets quotidiens, des décorations architecturales, des pierres tombales, etc., une science qui avait intéressé Eemans dans le cadre de la revue « Hamer », dont les thèmes ne seront nullement rejetés aux Pays-Bas et en Flandre après 1945 : de nouvelles équipes universitaires, formées au départ par les rédacteurs de « Hamer » continuent leurs recherches. Dans ce contexte, Koenraad Logghe publiera plusieurs ouvrages sur cette symbolique du quotidien, qui feront tous autorité dans l’espace linguistique néerlandais.

 

antaiosdocument-4.jpg

 

Eemans participera également à la revue « Antaios » que Christopher Gérard avait créée au début des années 90. Il avait repris le titre d’une revue fondée par Ernst Jünger et Mircea Eliade en 1958. Gérard bénéficiait de l’accord écrit d’Ernst Jünger et en était très fier et très reconnaissant. Lors de la fondation de l’ « Antaios » de Jünger et Eliade, ceux-ci avaient demandé la collaboration d’Eemans : il avait cependant décliné leur offre parce qu’il était submergé de travail. Dommage : la thématique de la mystique flamando-rhénane aurait trouvé dans la revue patronnée par l’éditeur Klett une tribune digne de son importance. Eemans écrivait parfaitement le français et le néerlandais mais non l’allemand. J’ai toujours supposé qu’il n’aurait pas aimé être trahi en étant traduit. C’est donc dans la revue « Antaios » de Christopher Gérard, publiée à Bruxelles/Ixelles, à un jet de pierre de son domicile, qu’Eemans publiera ses derniers textes, sans faiblir ni faillir malgré le poids des ans, jusqu’en ce jour fatidique de la fin juillet 1998, où la Grande Faucheuse l’a emporté.

 

Personnellement, je n’ai pas suivi un itinéraire strictement évolien après la dissolution du « Centro Studi Evoliani », dans la première moitié des années 80. Eemans m’en a un peu voulu, beaucoup au début des années 80, moins ultérieurement, et finalement, la réconciliation définitive est venue en deux temps : lors de la venue à Bruxelles de Philippe Baillet (pour une conférence à la tribune de l’EROE, chez Jean van der Taelen) puis lorsqu’il m’a invité à des vernissages, surtout celui qui fut suivi d’une magnifique soirée d’hommage, avec dîner somptueux fourni par l’édilité locale, que lui organisa sa ville natale de Termonde (Dendermonde) à l’occasion de ses 85 ans (en 1992). Pourquoi cette animosité passagère à mon égard ? Début 1981, a eu lieu à Bruxelles une conférence sur les thèmes de la défense de l’Europe, organisée conjointement par Georges Hupin (pour le GRECE-Belgique) et par Rogelio Pete (pour le compte d’une structure plus légère et plus éphémère, l’IEPI ou « Institut Européen de Politique Internationale »).

 

La rencontre Eemans/de Benoist

 

En marge de cette initiative, où plusieurs personnalités prirent la parole, dont Alain de Benoist, l’excellent et regretté Julien Freund, le Général Robert Close (du Corps des blindés belges stationnés en RFA), le Colonel Marc Geneste (l’homme de la « bombe à neutrons » au sein de l’armée française), le Général Pierre M. Gallois et le Dr. Saul Van Campen (Directeur du cabinet du Secrétaire Général de l’OTAN), j’avais vaguement organisé, en donnant deux ou trois brefs coups de fil, une rencontre entre Marc. Eemans et Alain de Benoist dans les locaux de la Librairie de Rome, dans le goulot de l’Avenue Louise, à Bruxelles, sans pouvoir y être présent moi-même (3). Visiblement, l’intention d’Eemans était de se servir de la revue d’Alain de Benoist, « Nouvelle école », dont j’étais devenu le secrétaire de rédaction, pour relancer les thématiques d’ « Hermès ». A l’époque, malgré quelques rares velléités évoliennes, Alain de Benoist n’était guère branché sur les thématiques traditionalistes ; il snobait délibérément Georges Gondinet, qualifié de « petit con qui nous insulte » (remarquez le « pluriel majestatif »…), tout simplement parce que le directeur de « Totalité » avait couché sur le papier quelques doutes quant à la pertinence métapolitique des écrits du « Pape » de la ND, marqués, selon le futur directeur des éditions Pardès, de « darwinisme ». De Benoist reprochait surtout à Gondinet et à son équipe la parution du n°11 de « Totalité », un dossier intitulé « La Nouvelle Droite du point de vue de la Tradition ». De Benoist, qui a certes eu des dadas darwiniens, sortait plutôt d’un « trip » empiriste logique, de facture anglo-saxonne et « russellienne », dont on ne saisit guère l’intérêt au vu de ses errements ultérieurs. Il tâtait maladroitement du Heidegger et voulait écrire sur le philosophe souabe un article qui attesterait de son génie dans toutes les Gaules (on attend toujours ce maître article promis sur le rapport Heidegger/Hölderlin… est germanomane par coquetterie parisienne qui veut, n’est pas germaniste de haut vol qui le prétend…). Sur les avant-gardes dadaïstes et surréalistes, de Benoist ne connaissait rien et classait tout cela, bon an mal an, dans des concepts généraux, dépréciatifs et fourre-tout, tels ceux de l’ « art dégénéré » ou du « gauchisme subversif », car, en cette époque bénie (pour lui et son escarcelle) où il oeuvrait au « Figaro Magazine », le sieur de Benoist se targuait d’appartenir à une bonne bourgeoisie installée, inculte et hostile à toute forme de nouveauté radicale, comme il se targue aujourd’hui d’appartenir à un filon gauchiste, inspiré par le Suisse Jean Ziegler, un filon tout aussi rétif à de la véritable innovation car, selon ses tenants et thuriféraires, il faut demeurer dans la jactance contestatrice habituelle des années 60 (comme certains surréalistes se complaisaient dans la jactance communisante des années 30 et n’entendaient pas en sortir).

 

En ce jour de mars 1981 donc, Alain de Benoist dédicaçait ses livres dans la Librairie de Rome et Eemans s’y est rendu, joyeux, débonnaire, chaleureux et enthousiaste, à la mode flamande, sans doute après un repas copieux et bien arrosé ou après quelques bon hanaps de « Duvel » : on est au pays des « noces paysannes » de Breughel, du « roi boit » de Jordaens et des plantureuses inspiratrices de Rubens ou on ne l’est pas ! Cette truculence a déplu au « Pape » de la « nouvelle droite », qui prenait souvent, à cette époque qui a constitué le faîte de sa gloire, les airs hautains du pisse-vinaigre parisien (nous dirions de la « Moeijer snoeijfdüüs »), se prétendant détenteur des vérités ultimes qui allaient sauver l’univers du désastre imminent qui l’attendait au tout prochain tournant. Pour de Benoist, la truculence breughelienne d’Eemans était indice de « folie ». Les airs hautains du Parisien, vêtu ce jour-là d’un affreux costume de velours mauve, sale et tout fripé, du plus parfait mauvais goût, étaient, pour le surréaliste flamand, indices d’incivilité, de fatuité et d’ignorance. Bref, la mayonnaise n’a pas pris : on ne marie pas aisément la joie de vivre et la sinistrose. Le courant n’est pas passé entre les deux hommes, éclipsant du même coup, et pour toujours, les potentialités immenses d’une éventuelle collaboration, qui aurait pu approfondir considérablement les recherches du mouvement néo-droitiste, vu que la postérité d’ « Hermès » débouche, entre bien d’autres choses, sur les activités de « Religiologiques » de Gilbert Durand ou sur les travaux d’Henri Corbin sur l’islam persan, et surtout qu’elle aurait pu démarrer tout de suite après l’écoeurante éviction de Giorgio Locchi, germaniste et musicologue, qui avait donné à « Nouvelle école » son lustre initial, éviction qu’Eemans ignorait : les arts et la musique ont de fait été quasiment absents des spéculations néo-droitistes qui ont vite viré au parisianisme jargonnant et « sociologisant » (dixit feu Jean Parvulesco), surtout après la constitution du tandem de Benoist/Champetier à la veille des années 90, tandem qui durera un peu moins d’une douzaine d’années.

 

La brève entrevue entre le « Pape » de la « nouvelle droite » et Eemans, à la « Librairie de Rome » de Bruxelles, n’a donc rien donné : un nouveau dépit pour notre surréaliste de Termonde, qui, une fois de plus, s’est heurté à des limites, à des lacunes, à une incapacité de clairvoyance, de lungimiranza, chez un individu qui s’affichait alors comme le grand messie de la culture refoulée. Cela a dû rappeler à notre peintre l’incompréhension des surréalistes bruxellois devant son exposé sur Sœur Hadewych…

 

Eemans m’en a voulu d’être parti, quelques jours plus tard, à Paris pour prendre mon poste de « secrétaire de rédaction » de « Nouvelle école ». Eemans jugeait sans doute que l’ambiance de Paris, vu le comportement malgracieux d’Alain de Benoist, n’était pas propice à la réception de thèmes propres à nos Pays-Bas ou à l’histoire de l’art et des avant-gardes ou encore aux mystiques médiévale et persane ; sans doute a-t-il cru que j’avais mal préparé la rencontre avec le « Pape » de la « nouvelle droite », qu’en ‘audience’ je ne lui avais pas assez parlé d’ « Hermès » ; quoi qu’il en soit, pour l’incapacité à réceptionner de manière un tant soit peu intelligente les thématiques chères à Eemans, notre surréaliste réprouvé avait raison : de Benoist se targue d’être une sorte d’Encyclopaedia Britannica sur pattes, en chair (flasque) et en os, mais il existe force thématiques qu’il ne pige pas, auxquelles il n’entend strictement rien ; de plus, Eemans estimait que « monter à Paris » était le propre, comme il me l’a écrit, furieux, d’un « Rastignac aux petits pieds » : ma place, pour lui, était à Bruxelles, et non ailleurs. Mais, heureusement, mon escapade parisienne, dans l’antre du « snobinard tout en mauve », n’a duré que neuf mois. Revenu en terre brabançonne, je n’ai plus jamais ravivé l’ire d’Eemans. Et c’est juste, la sagesse populaire ne nous enseigne-t-elle pas « Oost West - Thuis best ! » ?

 

Vienne et Zürich/Frauenfeld

 

Ma première activité strictement évolienne date de 1998, année du décès de Marc. Eemans. Evola suscitait à l’époque de plus en plus d’intérêt en Allemagne et en Autriche, grâce, notamment, aux efforts du Dr. T. H. Hansen, traducteur et exégète du penseur traditionaliste. Du coup, toutes les antennes germanophones de « Synergies Européennes » voulaient marquer le coup et organiser séminaires et causeries pour le centième anniversaire de la naissance du Maître. Au printemps de 1998, j’ai donc été appelé à prononcer à Vienne, dans les locaux de la « Burschenschaft Olympia », une allocution en l’honneur du centenaire de la naissance d’Evola ; on avait choisi Vienne parce qu’Evola adorait cette capitale impériale et y avait reçu, en 1945, pendant le siège de la ville, l’épreuve doublement douloureuse de la blessure et de la paralysie : un mur s’est effondré, brisant définitivement la colonne vertébrale de Julius Evola. A Vienne, il y avait, à la tribune, le Dr. Luciano Arcella (qui a tracé des parallèles entre Spengler, Frobenius et Evola dans leurs critiques de l’Occident), Martin Schwarz (toujours animateur de sites traditionalistes avec connotation islamisante assez forte), Alexandre Miklos Barti (sur la renaissance évolienne en Hongrie) et moi-même. J’ai essentiellement mis l’accent sur l’idée-force d’ « homme différencié » et entamé une exploration, non encore achevée treize ans après, des textes d’Evola où celui-ci fut le principal « passeur » des idées de la « révolution conservatrice » allemande en Italie. Cette exploration m’a rendu conscient du rôle essentiel joué par les avant-gardes provocatrices des années 1905-1935 : il faut bien comprendre ce rôle clef pour saisir correctement toute approche de l’école traditionaliste, qui en procède tant par suite logique que par rejet. En effet, on ne peut comprendre Evola et Eemans que si l’on se plonge dans les vicissitudes de l’histoire du dadaïsme, du surréalisme et de ses avatars philosophiques non communisants en marge de Breton lui-même, et du vorticisme anglo-saxon. Les éditions « L’Age d’Homme » offrent une documentation extraordinaire sur ces thèmes, dont la revue « Mélusine » et quelques bons dossiers « H ». En 1999, à Zürich/Frauenfeld, j’ai prononcé à nouveau cette même allocution de Vienne, en y ajoutant combien la notion d’ « homme différencié », proche de celle d’ « anarque » chez Ernst Jünger, a été cardinale pour certains animateurs non gauchistes de la révolte étudiante italienne de 1968. En Italie, en effet, grâce à Evola, surtout à son « Chevaucher le Tigre », le mouvement contestataire n’a pas entièrement été sous la coupe des interprètes simplificateurs de l’ « Eros et la civilisation » d’Herbert Marcuse. Dans les legs diffus de cette révolte étudiante-là, on peut, aujourd’hui encore, aller chercher tous les ingrédients pratiques d’une révolte qui s’avèrerait bien vite plus profonde et plus efficace dans la lutte contre le système, une révolte efficace qui exaucerait sans doute au centuple les vœux de Tzara et de Breton…  

 

Deux mémoires universitaires ont été consacrés tout récemment en Flandre à Evola, celui de Peter Verheyen, qui expose un parallèle entre l’auteur flamand Ernest van der Hallen et Julius Evola, et celui de Frédéric Ranson, intitulé « Julius Evola als criticus van de moderne wereld » (4). Ranson prononce souvent des conférences en Flandre sur Julius Evola, au départ de son mémoire et de ses recherches ultérieures. En Wallonie, en Pays de Liège, l’homme qui poursuit une quête traditionnelle au sens où l’entendent les militants italiens depuis le début des années 50 ou dans le sillage de « Terza Posizione » de Gabriele Adinolfi est Philippe Banoy. La balle est désormais dans leur camp : ce sont eux les héritiers potentiels de Vercauteren et d’Eemans. Mais des héritiers qui errent dans un champ de ruines encore plus glauque qu’à la fin des années 70. Un monde où les dernières traces de l’arèté grec semblent avoir définitivement disparu, sur fond de partouze festiviste permanente, de niaiserie et d’hystérie médiatiques ambiantes et d’inculture généralisée.

 

Evola, Eemans et la plupart des traditionalistes historiques de leur époque sont morts. Jean Parvulesco vient de nous quitter en novembre 2010. Un mouvement authentiquement traditionaliste doit-il se complaire uniquement dans la commémoration ? Non. Le seul à avoir repris le flambeau, avec toute l’autonomie voulue, demeure un inconnu chez nous dans la plupart des milieux situés bon an mal an sur le point d’intersection entre militance politique et méditation métaphysique : je veux parler de l’Espagnol Antonio Medrano, perdu de vue depuis ses articles dans la revue « Totalité » de Georges Gondinet. Ce mois-ci, en me promenant pour la première fois de ma vie dans les rues de Madrid, je découvre une librairie à un jet de pierre de la Plaza Mayor et de la Puerta del Sol qui vendait un ouvrage assez récent de Medrano. Quelle surprise ! Il est consacré à la notion traditionnelle d’honneur. Et la jaquette mentionne plusieurs autres ouvrages d’aussi bonne tenue, tous aux thèmes pertinents (5). Aujourd’hui, il conviendrait de fonder un « Centre d’Etudes doctrinales Evola & Medrano », de manière à faire pont entre un ancêtre « en absence » et un contemporain, qui, dans le silence, édifie une œuvre qui, indubitablement, est la poursuite de la quête. 

 

MAUGIS-8251-1995-4.jpgEnfin, il ne faut pas oublier de mentionner qu’Eemans survit, sous la forme d’une figure romanesque, baptisée Arminius, dans le roman initiatique de Christopher Gérard (6), rédigé après l’abandon, que j’estime malheureux, de sa revue « Antaios ». Arminius/Eemans y est un mage réprouvé (« après les proscriptions qui ont suivi les grandes conflagrations européennes »), ostracisé, qui distille son savoir au sein d’une confrérie secrète, plutôt informelle, qui, à terme, se donne pour objectif de ré-enchanter le monde (couverture du livre de Christopher Gérard avec, pour illustration, le plus beau, le plus poignant des tableaux d'Eemans: le Pélerin de l'Absolu).

 

Pour conclure, je voudrais citer un extrait extrêmement significatif de la monographie que le Prof. Piet Tommissen a consacré à Marc. Eemans, extrait où il rappelait combien l’œuvre de Julius Langbehn avait marqué notre surréaliste de Termonde : « Au moment où il préparait son recueil ‘Het bestendig verbond’ en vue de publication, Eemans fit d’ailleurs la découverte, grâce à son ami le poète flamand Wies Moens, du livre posthume ‘Der Geist des Ganzen’ de Julius Langbehn (1851-1907) (…) Langbehn y analyse le concept de totalité à partir de la signification du mot grec ‘Katholon’. Selon lui, le ‘tout’ travaille en fonction des parties subordonnées et se manifeste en elles tandis que chaque partie travaille dans le cadre du ‘tout’ et n’existe qu’en fonction de lui. Le ‘mal’ est déviation, négation ou haine de la totalité organique dans l’homme et dans l’ordre temporel ; le ‘mal’ engendre la division et le désordre, aussi tout ce qui s’oppose à l’esprit de totalité crée tension et lutte. Pour que l’esprit de totalité règne, il faut que disparaisse la médiocrité intellectuelle car elle est le fruit d’hommes sans épine dorsale ou caractère et sans attaches avec la source de toute créativité qu’est la vie vraiment authentique de celui qui assume la totalité de sa condition humaine. Langbehn rappelle que les mots latins ‘vis’, ‘vir’ et ‘virtus’, soit force, homme et vertu, ont la même racine étymologique. Oui, l’homme vraiment homme est en même temps force et vertu, et tend ainsi vers le surhomme, par les voies d’un retour aux sources tel que l’entend le mythe d’Anthée ». Dans ces lignes, l’esprit averti repèrera bien des traces, bien des indices, bien des allusions…

 

(propos recueillis en avril et en mai 2011).

 

Bibliographie :

 

-          Gérard DUROZOI, Histoire du mouvement surréaliste, Hazan, Paris, 1997 (Eemans est totalement absent de ce volume).

-          Marc. EEMANS, La peinture moderne en Belgique, Meddens, Bruxelles, 1969.

-          Piet TOMMISSEN, Marc. Eemans – Un essai de biographie intellectuelle, suivi d’une esquisse de biographie spirituelle par Friedrich-Markus Huebner et d’une postface de Jean-Jacques Gaillard, Sodim, Bruxelles, 1980.

-          André VIELWAHR, S’affranchir des contradictions – André Breton de 1925 à 1930, L’Harmattan, Paris, 1998.

 

 

Notes :

 

(1)     Geert WARNAR, Ruusbroec – Literatuur en mystiek in de veertiende eeuw, Athenaeum/Polak & Van Gennep, Amsterdam, 2003 ; Paul VERDEYEN, Jan van Ruusbroec – Mystiek licht uit de Middeleeuwen, Davidsfonds, Leuven, 2003.

(2)     Jacqueline KELEN, Hadewych d’Anvers et la conquête de l’Amour lointain, Albin Michel, Paris, 2011. 

(3)     Mis à toutes les sauces, fort sollicité, j’ai également organisé ce jour-là un entretien entre Alain de Benoist et le regretté Alain Derriks, alors pigiste dans la revue du ministre Lucien Outers, « 4 millions 4 ». Soucieux de servir d’écho à tout ce qui se passait à Paris, le francophile caricatural qu’était Outers avait autorisé Derriks à prendre un interview du leader de la « Nouvelle Droite » qui faisait pas mal de potin dans la capitale française à l’époque. On illustra les deux ou trois pages de l’entretien d’une photo d’Alain de Benoist, les bajoues plus grassouillettes en ce temps-là et moins décharné qu’aujourd’hui (le « Fig Mag » payait mieux…), tirant goulument sur un long et gros cigare cubain.

(4)     Frederik RANSON, « Julius Evola als criticus van de moderne wereld », RUG/Gent ; promoteur : Prof. Dr. Rik Coolsaet – année académique 2009-2010 ; Peter VERHEYEN, « Geloof me, we zijn zat van deze beschaving » - de performatieve cultuurkritiek van Ernest van der Hallen en Julius Evola tijdens het interbellum », RUG/Gent ; promoteur : Rajesh Heynick – année académique 2009-2010.

(5)     Le livre découvert à Madrid est : Antonio Medrano, La Senda del Honor, Yatay, Madrid, 2002. Parmi les livres mentionnés sur la jaquette, citons : La lucha con el dragon (sur le mythe universel de la lutte contre le dragon), La via de la accion, Sabiduria activa, Magia y Misterio del Liderazgo – El Arte de vivir en un mondi en crisis, La vida como empressa, tous parus chez les même éditeur : Yatay Ediciones, Apartado 252, E-28.220 Majadahonda (Madrid) ; tél. : 91.633.37.52. La librairie de Madrid que j’ai visitée : Gabriel Molina – Libros antiguos y modernos – Historia Militar, Travesia del Arenal 1, E-28.013 Madrid – Tél/Fax : 91.366.44.43 – libreriamolina@yahoo.es . 

(6)     Christopher GERARD, Le songe d’Empédocle, L’Age d’Homme, Lausanne, 2003. 

          

samedi, 21 mai 2011

Evola e il mondo di lingua tedesca

Evola e il mondo di lingua tedesca

Alberto Lombardo

Ex: http://www.centrostudilaruna.it/

evola_envers_cong.pngLa Germania e in genere il mondo di cultura tedesca ebbero per Evola un’importanza centrale. Sin da giovanissimo questi apprese il tedesco per avvicinarsi alle opere della filosofia idealistica; la sua dottrina filosofica deve molto all’idealismo, ma ancor più a Nietzsche, Weininger e Spengler. Nel 1933 compì il suo primo viaggio in Austria ; per tutti gli Anni ’30 e ’40 continuò a tenersi aggiornato leggendo saggî scientifici in lingua tedesca sui diversi argomenti dei quali si occupava: dalla romanità antica (Altheim) alla preistoria (Wirth, Günther), dall’alchimia (Böhme) alle razze (Clauß, ancora Günther), dalla teoria politica (Spann, Heinrich) all’economia (Sombart) e via dicendo. In generale, considerando gli apparati di note, i riferimenti culturali e in un bilancio che tenga conto di tutti gli apporti non mi sembra affatto di esagerare sostenendo che il peso degli studi pubblicati in tedesco sia nell’opera complessiva di Evola almeno pari a quello di quelli italiani.

Tutto questo è già assai indicativo dell’influenza della cultura tedesca sull’opera di Evola. Vanno aggiunti però altri dati: richiamando qui quanto accennato in sede biografica nel capitolo primo, ricordo i lunghi soggiorni di Evola in Austria e Germania, le numerose conferenze ivi tenute, i rapporti con esponenti della tradizione aristocratica e conservatrice mitteleuropea e della Konservative Revolution etc . Inoltre nei paesi di lingua tedesca Evola godette, almeno sino alla fine della seconda guerra mondiale, di una notorietà diversa da quella che ebbe in Italia, poiché vi fu accolto quasi come l’esponente di una particolare corrente di pensiero italiana, e ciò sin dal 1933, anno della pubblicazione di Heidnischer Imperialismus . Questo il giudizio in merito di Adriano Romualdi: «L’azione di Evola in Germania non fu politica, anche se contribuì a dissipare molti equivoci e a preparare un’intesa tra Fascismo e Nazionalsocialismo. Essa investì il significato di quelle tradizioni cui in Italia e in Germania si richiamavano i regimi, il simbolo romano e il mito nordico, il significato di classicismo e romanticismo, o di contrapposizioni artificiose, come quella tra romanità e germanesimo» .

Dal 1934 Evola tiene conferenze in Germania: in un’università di Berlino, al secondo nordisches Thing a Brema, e all’Herrenklub di Heinrich von Gleichen, rappresentante dell’aristocrazia tedesca (era barone) col quale stabilì una «cordiale e feconda amicizia» . Così Evola ricordò nel 1970 quest’importante esperienza: «ogni settimana si invitava una personalità tedesca o internazionale in quel circolo di Junkers. Devo dire peraltro che, se ci fossimo aspettati di vedere dei giganti biondi con gli occhi azzurri la delusione sarebbe stata grande, poiché per la maggior parte erano piccoli e panciuti. Dopo la cena e il rituale dei toasts, l’invitato doveva tenere una conferenza. Mentre questi signori fumavano il loro sigaro e sorseggiavano il loro bicchiere di birra, io parlavo. Fu allora che Himmler sentì parlare di me» .
È effettivamente assai verosimile che l’attenzione da parte degli ambienti ufficiali per Evola sia nata in seguito alle prime conferenze in Germania. I suoi rapporti col nazionalsocialismo furono di collaborazione esterna, e specialmente con diversi settori delle SS tra cui l’Ahnenerbe ; Evola espresse nei confronti dell’“ordine” guidato da Himmler parole assai positive , anche nel dopoguerra , che da una parte gli valsero i prevedibili (e fors’anche scontati) strali dei suoi detrattori, dall’altra determinarono una rilettura – in seno alla storiografia e allo stesso “sentimento del mondo” della Destra Radicale del dopoguerra – del nazionalsocialismo come di un movimento popolare guidato da un’élite ascetico-guerriera . Dagli ormai numerosi dati d’archivio pubblicati, risulta un quadro di Evola tenuto in considerazione ma sempre osservato con cura dagli ambienti ufficiali tedeschi .

Dopo il conflitto mondiale la notorietà di Evola nei paesi di lingua tedesca andò scemando; la sua immobilità fisica pare che gli impedì, tra l’altro, ulteriori viaggi all’estero. Solo negli ultimi decenni Evola è stato fatto oggetto di una sorta di riscoperta, per merito soprattutto di Hans Thomas Hansen, che ne ha tradotto (e ritradotto) la buona parte delle opere, con il consenso dello stesso Evola quando questi era ancora in vita, e che viene giustamente considerato uno dei massimi conoscitori del pensiero e della vita di Evola. Oltre alla rivista da questi fondata e animata, «Gnostika» (che come suggerisce il titolo ha interessi prevalentemente esoterici), negli ultimissimi anni stanno nascendo diverse attività che si ispirano in vario modo all’opera di Evola, tra le quali meritano una menzione le riviste tedesche «Elemente» e «Renovatio Imperii» e soprattutto l’austriaca «Kshatriya», diretta da Martin Schwarz (autore della più ampia bibliografia evoliana sino a oggi stilata ), di più marcata impronta “evoliana ortodossa”. A margine di ciò, si stanno iniziando a tenere convegni sul pensatore e a tradurre sue ulteriori opere. Inoltre il centenario della nascita di Evola, nel 1998, è stato occasione per varie testate tedesche per ricordarlo con ampi articoli, tra cui quelli apparsi sulla storica «Nation & Europa» (che esce ormai da mezzo secolo, e cui nei primi Anni ’50 lo stesso Evola collaborò), «Criticn» e la prestigiosa «Zeitschrift für Ganzheitforschung», altra rivista cui Evola collaborò (nei primi Anni ’60) e che fu fondata e lungamente diretta da Walter Heinrich (sino alla morte di questi, avvenuta nel 1984), che era in grande amicizia con Evola. Come curiosità, segnaliamo che per l’occasione numerosi complessi e gruppi musicali tedeschi e austriaci hanno dedicato nel centenario allo scrittore tradizionalista un disco, intitolato Cavalcare la tigre.

* * *

Sebbene alcuni elementi politici della storia d’Italia e di quella tedesca appaiano affini, (il processo di unificazione nazionale avvenuto nella seconda metà dell’Ottocento, la comune partecipazione alla Triplice Alleanza, l’Asse Roma-Berlino), Evola individua nella “tradizione germanica” dei tratti che differenziano nettamente – in senso positivo – i paesi di lingua tedesca dall’Italia. Così anzitutto «può dirsi che in Germania il nazionalismo democratico di massa di tipo moderno non fece che una fuggevole apparizione. […]. Il nazionalismo in tal senso, con un fondo democratico, non andò oltre il fugace fenomeno del parlamento di Francoforte del 1848, in connessione con i moti rivoluzionari che in quel periodo imperversavano in tutta l’Europa (è significativo che il re di Prussia Federico Guglielmo IV rifiutò l’offerta, fattagli da quel parlamento, di mettersi a capo di tutta la Germania perché accettandola egli avrebbe anche accettato il principio democratico – il potere conferito da una rappresentanza popolare – rinunciando al suo diritto legittimistico, sia pure ristretto alla sola Prussia). E Bismarck, creando il secondo Reich, non gli diede affatto una base “nazionale”, vedendo nella corrispondente ideologia il principio di pericolosi disordini anche dell’ordine europeo, mentre i conservatori della Kreuzzeitung accusarono nel nazionalismo un fenomeno “naturalistico” e regressivo, estraneo ad una più alta tradizione e concezione dello Stato» . Estranei a questa forma “naturalistica” di nazionalismo, i paesi di lingua tedesca cullarono un diverso spirito, quello del Volk, che animò lo spirito pangermanico. La corrente völkish, che un notevole peso ebbe anche nella genesi del nazionalsocialismo, affondava le sue radici nei Discorsi alla nazione tedesca di Fichte, in Arndt, Jahn e Lange e soprattutto nel Deutschbund e nella deutsche Bewegung . In questa diversità di retroterra si ha la prima divaricazione tra Italia e Germania.

Ma le differenze di ambiente sono assai più nette. Nel suo saggio sul Terzo Reich, delineando le correnti culturali complesse e spesso irriducibili che cooperarono nella sua genesi, Evola scrive: «Dopo la prima guerra mondiale in Germania la situazione era sensibilmente diversa da quella dell’Italia. […] Mussolini dovette creare quasi dal nulla, nel senso che nel punto di combattere la sovversione rossa e di rimettere in piedi lo Stato non poteva rifarsi ad una tradizione nel senso più alto del termine. Tutto sommato, ad essere minacciato era solo il prolungamento dell’Italietta democratica ottocentesca, con un retaggio risorgimentale risentente delle ideologie della Rivoluzione Francese, con una monarchia che regnava ma non governava e senza salde articolazioni sociali. In Germania le cose stavano altrimenti. Anche dopo il crollo militare e la rivoluzione del 1918 e malgrado il marasma sociale sussistevano resti aventi radici profonde in quel mondo gerarchico, talvolta ancora feudale, incentrato nei valori dello Stato e della sua autorità, facenti parte della precedente tradizione, in particolare del prussianesimo. […]. In effetti, nell’Europa centrale le idee della Rivoluzione Francese non presero mai tanto piede quanto nei restanti paesi europei» .

evola_julius_-_meditations_on_the_peaks.jpgIn un’occasione Evola cita la teoria giuridica di Carl Schmitt dell’international law . Il filosofo della politica tedesco aveva espresso l’idea della caduta del diritto internazionale europeo consuetudinario avvenuta, all’incirca, dopo il 1890, e la conseguente affermazione di un diritto internazionale più o meno ufficializzato. «Noi però qui non siamo interamente del parere dello Schmitt», scrive Evola, spiegando che «di contro all’opinione di molti, nei riguardi dell’azione svolta da Bismarck, sia all’interno della Germania che in Europa, non tutte le cose sono “in ordine”. […]. Più che Bismarck, a noi sembra che, se mai, Metternich sia stato l’ultimo “Europeo”, vale a dire l’ultimo uomo politico che seppe sentire la necessità di una solidarietà delle nazioni europee non astratta, o dettata solo da ragioni di politica “realistica” e da interessi materiali, ma rifacentesi anche a delle idee e alla volontà di mantenere il migliore retaggio tradizionale dell’Europa» . Contrariamente a quanto sostenuto da Baillet , Evola fu dunque piuttosto critico nei confronti di Bismarck, che non ebbe, secondo la visione tradizionale evoliana, il coraggio di opporsi in modo sistematico e rigoroso al mondo moderno e della sovversione (nella sua forma economico-capitalistica), ma dovette in alcuni casi venire a patti con esso.

La stessa Germania federiciana e poi guglielmina, seppur conservante le strutture e l’ordine di uno stato tradizionale, nel quale la stessa burocrazia e l’apparato statale apparivano quasi come corpi di un ordine, conteneva i germi della dissoluzione, dovuti alle idee illuministe che avevano iniziato a filtrare – in modo più larvato che altrove – presso le varie corti. Se il giudizio evoliano nei confronti del codice federiciano conservante l’ordinamento diviso negli Stände è positivo, ciò è poiché, per l’epoca in cui sorse, quel codice conservava meglio d’ogni altro le strutture feudali e gerarchiche precedenti. Esse, tramite la tradizione prussiana, affondavano nell’Ordine dei cavalieri teutonici e nella loro riconquista delle terre baltiche: un ordine ascetico-cavalleresco formato da una disciplina e da una severa organizzazione gerarchica. Così, sin da giovanissimo Evola intuì l’assurdità della “guerra civile europea” che, come ufficiale, egli andava a combattere sulla frontiera carsica: l’Italia si schierava cioè contro ciò che restava della migliore tradizione europea. «Nel 1914 gli Imperi Centrali rappresentavano ancora un resto dell’Europa feudale e aristocratica nel mondo occidentale, malgrado innegabili aspetti di egemonismo militaristico ed alcune alleanze sospette col capitalismo presenti soprattutto nella Germania guglielmina. La coalizione contro di essi fu dichiaratamente una coalizione del Terzo Stato contro le forze residue del Secondo Stato […]. Come in poche altre della storia, la guerra del 1914-1918 presenta tutti i tratti di un conflitto non fra Stati e nazioni, ma fra le ideologie di diverse caste. Di essa, i risultati diretti e voluti furono la distruzione della Germania monarchica e dell’Austria cattolica, quelli indiretti il crollo dell’impero degli Czar, la rivoluzione comunista e la creazione, in Europa, di una situazione politico-sociale talmente caotica e contraddittoria, da contenere tutte le premesse per una nuova conflagrazione. E questa fu la seconda guerra mondiale» .

Come accennato, anche nei confronti della tradizione dell’Austria Evola espresse un giudizio marcatamente positivo. La stessa linea dinastica degli Asburgo ebbe un ruolo di rilievo in questa valutazione (Evola si era espresso in termini molto positivi nei confronti di Massimiliano I) ; nel periodo in cui visse a Vienna Evola respirò ciò che restava dell’atmosfera antica dell’Austria felix, e venne in contatto con quella temperie culturale e spirituale e soprattutto con uomini in cui, per usare le parole di Ernst Jünger, «la catastrofe aveva certo lasciato le sue ombre […], ma si era limitata a distruggerne la serenità innata senza distruggerla. A tratti scorgevamo […] una patina di quella sofferenza che potremmo definire austriaca e che è comune a tanti vecchi sudditi dell’ultima vera monarchia. Con essa venne distrutta una forma del piacere di vivere che negli altri paesi europei già da generazioni era diventata inimmaginabile, e le tracce di questa distruzione si avvertono ancora nei singoli individui. […]. Da noi nel Reich, se si prescinde dal generale esaurimento delle forze, si incominciava a notare tutt’al più la disparità degli strati sociali; qui invece si erano aperte, come voragini, le differenze tra le varie etnie» . In questo humus storico degli anni compresi tra le due guerre, in cui ancora forti erano i legami sentimentali ed etici di molti con la precedente tradizione imperiale – la monarchia asburgica d’Austria aveva almeno formalmente conservato, sino al Congresso di Vienna, la titolarità del Sacro Romano Impero – Evola ebbe anche modo di percepire direttamente l’attaccamento diffuso a livello popolare alla monarchia , e lo spiegò in questi termini: «Senza riesumare forme anacronistiche, invece di una propaganda che “umanizzi” il sovrano per accattivare la massa, quasi sulla stessa linea della propaganda elettorale presidenziale americana, si dovrebbe vedere fino a che punto possano avere un’azione profonda i tratti di una figura caratterizzata da una certa innata superiorità e dignità, in un quadro adeguato. Una specie di ascesi e di liturgia della potenza qui potrebbero avere una loro parte. Proprio questi tratti, mentre rafforzeranno il prestigio di chi incarna un simbolo, dovrebbero poter esercitare sull’uomo non volgare una forza d’attrazione, perfino un orgoglio nel suddito. Del resto, anche in tempi abbastanza recenti si è avuto l’esempio dell’imperatore Francesco Giuseppe che, pur frapponendo fra sé e i sudditi l’antico severo cerimoniale, pur non imitando per nulla i re “democratici” dei piccoli Stati nordici, godette di una particolare, non volgare popolarità» . In questo stesso senso nel 1935, scrivendo a proposito della possibilità di una restaurazione regale in Austria, Evola riferisce ciò che gli esponenti del pensiero conservatore e monarchico in quel paese sostenevano: «La premessa, intanto, è quella a cui ogni mente non ingombra di pregiudizî può anche aderire, cioè che il regime monarchico, in generale, è quello che più può garantire un ordine, un equilibrio e una pacificazione interna, senza dover ricorrere al rimedio estremo della dittatura e dello Stato centralizzato, sempreché nei singoli sussista la sensibilità spirituale richiesta da ogni lealismo. Questa condizione, secondo dette personalità, sarebbe presente nella gran parte della popolazione austriaca, se non altro, per la forza di una tradizione e di uno stile di vita pluricentenario» .

Il problema dell’Anschluss, dell’annessione dell’Austria alla Germania naizonalsocialista, fu negli anni che lo precedettero al centro di un ampio dibattito internazionale. Giuristi e politici lo affrontarono da diversi punti di vista; Evola non fu in concordanza di vedute, su questo tema, con l’amico Othmar Spann, che, scriveva Evola, per la coraggiosa coerenza delle sue idee non era ben visto né in Austria né in Germania. Scrivendo sul sociologo viennese, Evola affermava: «gli Austriaci non perdonano le sue simpatie per la Germania, mentre i Tedeschi non gli perdonano le critiche da lui mosse al materialismo razzista» . Ampliando alla scuola organicistica viennese e al mondo culturale austriaco il suo sguardo, Evola ne esponeva in questi termini le vedute: «Non ci si può rassegnare a far scendere una nazione, che ha la tradizione che l’Austria ha avuto, al livello di un piccolo Stato balcanico. Qui non si fa quistione della mera autonomia politica, si fa essenzialmente quistione di cultura e di tradizione. Storicamente, la civiltà austriaca è indisgiungibile da quella germanica. Non è possibile che oggi l’Austria a tale riguardo si emancipi e cominci a far da sé. Proprio perché essa è stata menomata, ridotta ad un’ombra di quel che essa fu precedentemente, le si impone di connettersi nel modo più stretto alla Germania, appoggiarsi ad essa, trarre da essa gli elementi che possono garantire l’integrità della sua eredità tedesca». Proseguiva Evola sostenendo che dal lato positivo l’Austria avrebbe avuto molto a sua volta da trasmettere alla Germania sotto il profilo della tradizione culturale. Ma di là dal piano squisitamente intellettuale, «Nel dominio delle tradizioni politiche l’antitesi è ancor più visibile. Vi sarebbe infatti da chiedere a questi intellettuali germanofili che cosa essi pensino quando parlano di tradizione austro-tedesca. La tradizione austriaca era una tradizione imperiale. Erede del Sacro Romano Impero, il Reich austriaco, formalmente almeno, non poteva dirsi tedesco. Di diritto, era supernazionale, e di fatto esso sovrastava un gruppo di popoli assai diversi come razza, costumi e tradizioni, gruppo nel quale l’elemento tedesco non figurava che come parte. Nemmeno giova dire che purtuttavia la direzione dell’impero austriaco era intonata in senso tedesco e faceva capo ad una dinastia tedesca. Dal punto di vista dei principî ciò conta così poco quanto il fatto che i rappresentanti del principio supernazionale della Chiesa Romana siano stati in larga misura italiani. Se si deve parlare di tradizione austriaca», concludeva Evola, «è ad una tradizione imperiale che bisogna riferirsi. Ora, che cosa può avere a che fare una tale tradizione con la Germania, se Germania oggi vuol dire nazionalsocialismo?» . Francesco Germinario ha scritto a tale proposito che per Evola «un’Austria legata alle radici cattoliche, e in cui, soprattutto, rimaneva ancora vivo il ricordo degli Asburgo, era molto più vicina ai valori della Tradizione rispetto a una Germania travolta dalla nuova ondata di modernizzazione promossa dal nazismo» .

Si esprimevano in questi termini già nel 1935 le posizioni critiche di Evola nei confronti del nazismo, di cui il filosofo tradizionalista accusava gli eccessi populistici, sociali e di sinistra. Il tono in questo caso è particolarmente critico perché il raffronto è con l’Austria, nella quale Evola vedeva appunto l’erede spirituale della più alta tradizione europea. D’altronde, si tratta di una linea interpretativa e storiografica apprezzabile, e che Evola mantenne anche nel dopoguerra, tendendo a separare i diversi elementi e le varie correnti che operarono nel nazionalsocialismo per giudicarli separatamente . Concludeva dunque la sua lettura politica della situazione internazionale affermando: «Se non ci si vuole rassegnare alla perdita dell’antica tradizione supernazionale centro-europea, l’Austria più che verso la Germania dovrebbe volgere i suoi sguardi verso gli Stati successori, nel senso di vedere fino a che punto è possibile ricostruire una comune coscienza centro-europea come base non solo della soluzione di importantissimi problemi economici e commerciali ma eventualmente […] anche della formulazione di un nuovo principio politico unitario di tipo tradizionale» .

Nei confronti della seconda guerra mondiale, il cui esito indubbiamente Evola vedeva come l’ultima fase del crollo epocale della civiltà europea, lo scrittore tradizionalista denunciava le colpe morali delle potenze occidentali: «a Himmler si deve un tentativo di salvataggio in extremis (considerato da Hitler come un tradimento). Pel tramite del Conte Bernadotte egli tramise una proposta di pace separata agli Alleati occidentali per poter continuare la guerra soltanto contro l’Unione Sovietica e il comunismo. Si sa che tale proposta, la quale, se accettata, forse avrebbe potuto assicurare all’Europa un diverso destino, evitando la successiva “guerra fredda” e la comunisticizzazione dell’Europa di là dalla “cortina di ferro”, fu nettamente respinta in base ad un cieco radicalismo ideologico, come era stata respinta, per un non diverso radicalismo, l’offerta di pace fatta da Hitler di sua iniziativa all’Inghilterra in termini ragionevoli in un famoso discorso dell’estate del 1940 quando i Tedeschi erano la parte vincente» .

Anche dopo la seconda guerra mondiale Evola mantenne un occhio di riguardo nei confronti dei paesi di lingua tedesca. La sua visione fu di ammirazione nei confronti della nuova resurrezione economica operata dai Tedeschi dopo la distruzione del secondo dopoguerra («questa nazione ha saputo completamente rialzarsi di là da distruzioni senza nome. Perfino in regime di occupazione essa ha sopravvanzato le stesse nazioni vincitrici sul piano industriale ed economico riprendendo il suo posto di grande potenza produttrice») , e per il coraggio col quale la Repubblica federale aveva bandito il pericolo comunista dalla sua politica («I Tedeschi fanno sempre le cose con coerenza. Così anche nel giuoco di osservanza democratica. Essi hanno messo su una democrazia-modello come un sistema “neutro” – diremmo quasi amministrativo, più che politico – equilibrato ed energico a un tempo. A differenza dell’Italia, la Germania proprio dal punto di vista di una democrazia coerente ha messo al bando il comunismo. La Corte Costituzionale tedesca ha statuito ciò che corrisponde all’evidenza stessa delle cose, ossia che un partito che, come quello comunista, segue le regole democratiche soltanto in funzione puramente tattica e di copertura, per scopo finale dichiarato avendo invece la soppressione di ogni contrastante corrente politica e la dittatura assoluta del proletariato, non può essere tollerato da uno Stato democratico che non voglia scavare la fossa a sé stesso») . Ma, ciò nonostante, la guerra aveva ormai prodotto un vacuum, un vuoto spirituale non più colmato: «Di contro a tutto ciò, stupisce, nella Repubblica Federale, la mancanza di qualsiasi idea, di qualsiasi “mito”, di qualsiasi superiore visione del mondo, di qualsiasi continuità con la precedente Germania» . Anche nel campo della cultura, Evola ravvisa un generale franamento, una sorta di generale “venire meno” alle posizioni coraggiose e d’avanguardia tenute dall’intellettualità tedesca negli anni – ad avviso di Evola, assai floridi e proficui sotto il profilo culturale – del Reich nazionalsocialista. Nel suo giudizio negativo Evola prende come esempio di questo crollo Gottfried Benn ed Ernst Jünger (cadendo con ciò in errori di veduta piuttosto grossolani ).

 

* * *

 

Da Vie della Tradizione 125 (2002), pp. 37-50.
Il presente articolo è stato ripubblicato privo delle note a pié pagina.

lundi, 16 mai 2011

Revista de Historia del Fascismo - Julius Evola en Alemania

 

20110408141931-rhf-4-portadamedia.gif

Revista de Historia del Fascismo

Sumario

REVISIONES

Hitler [no] me ha dicho: Rauschning, un falsario desenmascarado

Durante décadas el libro de Hermann Rauschning Hitler me ha dicho se ha considerado como un pieza fundamental del Caso Hitler. Desde obras “ligeras” como El retorno de los brujos de Louis Pauwels y Jacques Bergier hasta las  sesudas  obras  de  historiadores  académicos  como Trevor-Roper, era frecuente entre los años 50 hasta finales del milenio, recurrir a esta obra para dirimir cómo era la verdadera personalidad del führer. Aun hoy algunos siguen considerando a esta obra como “fuente primaria”… lamentablemente  para  ellos,  desde  hace  20  años,  está demostrado ad nauseam que la obra de Rauschning no tiene credibilidad sino que es uno de tantos ejemplos de propaganda de guerra.

BIOGRAFIAS

Abate Barruel: el padre de todas las conspiranoias

A  finales  del  siglo  XVIII  al  abate  Augustin  Barruel  consiguió una fama extraordinaria con la publicación de su obra Memorias para servir a la historia del jacobinismo en  donde  daba  una  explicación  teleológica  a  todos  los episodios que se habían sucedido en Francia a partir de 1780 y que se desencadenaron aquella orgía de sangre que  fue  la  Revolución  Francesa.  El  éxito  de  Barruel  fue tan rutilante como efímero, sin embargo, todavía hoy se le considera como el introductor de la visión conspirativa de la historia y su obra como el “padre” de todas las conspiraciones. Esta es la vida y la obra del abate Barruel…

NEOFASCISMO

L’Uomo Qualunque: un producto de postguerra

En la confusión de la Italia de la postguerra, durante un corto  ciclo  de  apenas  tres  años,  un  partido  político  de nuevo cuño llamó particularmente la atención: el Fronte dell’Uomo Qualunque, literalmente el Frente del Hombre Cualquiera (aunque otra traducción alternativa sería “del Pobre Diablo”) entendiendo como tal al ciudadano sin expectativas  que  sufre  las  consecuencias  de  las  situaciones  adversas  generadas  por  otros.  El Uomo  Qualunque fue  un  grito  de  desesperados  que  se  extinguió  pronto ingresando una parte sustancial de sus miembros en el Movimiento  Social  Italiano  que  heredó  también  buena parte de sus votos. 

MÍSTICA FASCISTA

Codreanu y su mística guerrera

Nuestro colaborador Eduardo Basurto nos envía este artículo sobre la mística guerrera de Codreanu que supone el primer estudio publicado en la Revista de Historia del Fascismo  sobre  esta  corriente  en  Rumania.  Además  de hacer honor al título, el estudio de Eduardo Basurto realiza un repaso a la historia de la varidad rumana del fascismo singularmente preciso.

CINEMATOGRAFÍA

Forces Occultes… El cine francés bajo la ocupación

Hasta hace poco inencontrable y desde que se han puesto en marcha las plataformas de intercambio de archivos Peer to Peer y youTube fácilmente accesibles en la red, Forces Occultes es un película extraña que responde en primer lugar a las exigencias antimasónicas del gobierno francés de Vichy y de la propaganda alemana. Pero nos equivocaríamos si considerásemos que Forces Occultes solamente  es  “propaganda”.  Es  mucho  más:  refleja  por primera vez en la historia del cine cómo es una iniciación masónica de la que hasta ese momento el “gran público” no tenía conciencia exacta en qué consistía. Y no hay en ella absolutamente ninguna falsificación. La pesquisa en torno  a Forces  Occultes  nos  llevará,  por  extensión  lógica, en la segunda parte de este artículo, a examinar el panorama del cine “colaboracionista” realizado durante la ocupación y terminará con una referencia a la figura de Claude Autant-Lara, fallecido en 2000 después de ser durante un período diputado europeo del Front National.

DOSSIER:

Julius Evola y el III Reich
Las relaciones y los proyectos de Julius Evola en Alemania 1930-1945.

I. Introduccion

II. Julius Evola y la cultura alemanas

III. Contactos en el Reich 

          - La Comunidad de  Trabajo de los nacionalistas

          - Con la “revolución conservadora”

          - La red del príncipe KarlAnton von Rohan

          - Gottfried Benn y el Rivolta  

          - Del Herrenklub a las SS

          - La “defensa de la raza” en Alemania e Italia

          - Los objetivos del período 1938-1943

          - Evola en el Cuartel General del Führer

 

Características: 

Formato libro 150 x 210 mm

Páginas 216

Tapas en cuatricomía con solapas 

Pedidos: eminves@gmail.com 

Precio venta al público: 18,00 euros + 3,00 euros de gastos de envío (precios para España, resto mundo, consultar) 

Forma e pago: ingreso en cuenta corriente BBVA (al hacer el pedido indicamos el número) o pago a través de pay-pal (ver columna de la derecha)

 

Suscripción: 

6 números: 100 euros

12 números: 200 euros



mardi, 10 mai 2011

New Books by Troy Southgate

 

New Books by Troy Southgate from Black Front Press

 

 
Copies of EVOLA: THOUGHTS & PERSPECTIVES, VOLUME ONE are now available to preorder. The book is over 400 pages in length and costs just £24 (UK), £26 (Europe) & £27 (America/Rest of World). All prices include postage and the Paypal address is: arktoslondon@yahoo.co.uk More details below.
JULIUS Evola is one of the more intriguing and controversial figures in the Traditionalist milieu and this unique collection of essays, the first of its kind in English, looks at various aspects of the Italian philosopher’s work. Ranging fr…om Art, Sex, Feminism and Economics right through to Race, Politics, Islam and the Occult, this book will serve as a detailed and scholarly guide to one of Europe’s most vehement critics of the modern epoch. Contributors include Professor Roger Griffin, Professor Tomislav Sunic, Troy Southgate, Gwendolyn Toynton, K.R. Bolton, Keith Preston, Sean Jobst, Mariella Shearer, Brett Stevens and Christopher Pankhurst.
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SPECIAL OFFER: Buy two books from Black Front Press and get a third book absolutely free. This offer applies to three titles only: (i) FURTHER WRITINGS: ESSAYS ON PHILOSOPHY, RELIGION, HISTORY & POLITICS, (ii) ADVENTURES IN COUNTER-CULTURE: POLITICS, MUSIC, FILM & LITERATURE and (iii) OTTO STRASSER: THE LIFE & TIMES OF A GERMAN SOCIALIST. For more information about each title, please see below.
You can now copies of my new 300-page book, FURTHER WRITINGS: ESSAYS ON PHILOSOPHY, RELIGION, HISTORY & POLITICS, which costs just £20 (UK), £22 (Europe) & £24 (America/Rest of World). All prices include postage and the Paypal address is: arktoslondon@yahoo.co.uk
MOUNTING to thirty-five detailed chapters, Troy Southgate’s latest offering explores some of the more intriguing aspects of human civilisation. From an in-depth study of history’s prominent thinkers, ideologues and theologians right throug…h to a dissection of the world’s most fascinating empires, wars and revolutions, you will find this knowledgeable and erudite collection of essays both informative and thought-provoking.
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Signed copies of my 368-page book, ADVENTURES IN COUNTER-CULTURE: POLITICS, MUSIC, FILM AND LITERATURE, costs just £22 (UK), £24 (Europe) & £25 (America/Rest of World). All prices include postage and the Paypal address is: arktoslondon@yahoo.co.uk
Including key interviews with important political figures like Robert Steuckers, Martin Schwarz and Jonathan Bowden, as well as interesting musicians such as Richard Leviathan (Ostara), Christopher Walton (Endura), Puissance and Turbund Stu…rmwerk, Troy Southgate’s ten-year foray into the political and musical underground has managed to yield some very interesting results. This 368-page book also includes numerous reviews centred on concerts and releases by a remarkable variety of Industrial, Metal, Gothic, Neofolk and Experimental projects, and includes much in-depth analysis based around the world of film and literature.
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My biography, OTTO STRASSER: THE LIFE AND TIMES OF A GERMAN SOCIALIST, is 200 pages in length & contains world-exclusive plates featuring family photographs supplied by Strasser’s own son. Signed copies – including postage – cost just £17 (UK), £19 (Europe) & £21 (America/Rest of World). Paypal address: arktoslondon@yahoo.co.uk

 

PRIOR to the outbreak of the Second World War, Otto Strasser was a leading activist in the National-Socialist German Workers Party (NSDAP). Distancing himself from the prevailing ideologies of both capitalism and communism, Strasser famousl…y accused Adolf Hitler of betraying the socio-economic principles of the original Nazi programme and went on to become a leading opponent of the Third Reich. Along with his brother, Gregor, he believed that a form of German Socialism could provide an alternative future for the nation’s long-suffering workers and peasants. As a result, he was ruthlessly pursued across several countries by Gestapo agents and became embroiled in a series of thrilling adventures. This is the story of how a Bavarian man with a sense of national freedom and social justice became one of the world’s most intriguing revolutionary ideologues.

 

lundi, 09 mai 2011

A Handbook of Traditional Living

A Handbook of Traditional Living:
Theory & Practice

Review by Greg JOHNSON

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

A Handbook of Traditional Living: Theory and Practice [2]
Trans. S. K.
Ed. John B. Morgan
Atktos Media, 2010

A Handbook of Traditional Living is a slender volume (just under 100 pages) comprising two essays published in Italian in 1997 and 1998 by the Raido Cultural Association. The author or authors are anonymous. The first essay, “The World of Tradition,” is a somewhat dry summary of Julius Evola’s version of Traditionalism especially as expressed in his magnum opus, Revolt Against the Modern World [3].

I wish to focus here on the second essay, “The Front of Tradition,” which deals with how one might organize in the light of Tradition to struggle against the modern world. This essay is most strongly influenced by Corneliu Codreanu’s Iron Guard. The organization that is proposed is an initiatic, hierarchical spiritual-militant order. Its structure and aims are essentially that of the Iron Guard, but its spiritual content and foundation is Evolian Traditionalism, not the Iron Guard’s Romanian Orthodox Christianity.

The underlying assumption of “The Front of Tradition” is that the modern world is declining of its own accord, in keeping with the downward thrust of history according to Traditional doctrine. We live in the Kali Yuga, the Dark Age, which is the most hostile to the principles of Tradition and the most removed from the Golden Age that inaugurated our present historical cycle. But the furthest remove from the last Golden Age is the closest proximity to the commencement of the next one. And, as the current Dark Age advances deeper into decadence and chaos, there will come a point when objective conditions will permit a fighting vanguard of Traditionalists to intervene successfully in events and contribute to the inauguration of the next Golden Age. But Traditionalists must be prepared to act effectively when eternal conditions align. Sadly, there is no evidence that any serious Traditionalists are even close to being prepared.

“The Front of Tradition” proposes a hierarchical order that assigns rank based on merit and accomplishment not seniority. The assumption is that true order and authority flow from above, thus nobody can associate with the order who is not oriented toward what is above and interested in finding those genuine superiors who can bring him closer to the transcendent principle. Each individual is also duty-bound to pass down what he knows to his inferiors who look to him for guidance. But the primary orientation of each individual has to be upwards, toward the transcendent. It is an attitude of receptivity to Tradition. It is characterized by humility, by the recognition of one’s imperfection and need of completion from above.

Any orientation downwards, toward followers, is only secondary, and a matter of duty rather than inclination. It is an attitude that must be characterized by detachment and impersonality, since one is a teacher not by virtue of one’s personality but simply by virtue of one’s place in a chain of initiation. What one teaches, moreover, is merely the transcendent truth passed on from above, not a product of one’s own ego.

The great destroyer to be avoided is “egoism,” which seems pretty much synonymous with narcissism. The genuine Traditionalist is oriented first and foremost toward reality. Because of this orientation, he enters into relations with others, specifically into an initiatic hierarchical organization. The genuine Traditionalist has a strong and substantial ego; he knows who he is; he had a deep and abiding sense of worth. Because of this, he is capable of setting aside his ego and devoting himself to eternal truth and disinterested, impersonal action in the service of great collective aims.

The egoist, by contrast, is oriented first and foremost toward himself. He is psychologically needy, and to satisfy these needs, he interacts with others. Reality places a distant third in his priorities. Indeed, since egoists are primarily concerned to satisfy their psychological needs though interactions with others, they are often practiced liars and manipulators.

The Right wing is swarming with egoists of this type. They are characterized first and foremost by a neurotic need for attention. Generally, they like to set themselves up as leaders of little grouplets by claiming to have knowledge, expertise, or money they often do not possess, or do not possess to the degree required by their ambitions.

Since the purpose of these groups is the psychological gratification of their leaders, they seldom accomplish anything in the real world. They tend to be “virtual” groups, existing through websites, Facebook, and press releases. Since these groups do not aim at disinterested action, they are consumed with personal rivalries and schisms. Since these groups are not based in unchanging truth but instead are all about playing to the fickle crowd, they are constantly changing their views, activities, and alliances. Anything to keep the spotlight on them.

The best way to avoid egoists is the establishment of a genuinely hierarchical, initiatic order with objective criteria for membership and advancement. The egoist cannot survive in such an environment. He is primarily motivated by the desire to reign over others. He wants to be on top and therefore rejects the need or possibility of completion from above. Instead of seeking out his superiors, he fears them and tries to keep them away. (Most egoists are oblivious to genuinely superior people, whom they often patronize and seek to manipulate. For the superior individual, this often presents an amusing albeit grotesque spectacle, rather like having one’s leg humped by a dog. Egoists are generally more concerned with fighting off the challenges of other egoists, whom they recognize instinctively.)

A Traditionalist order obviously must contain a significant component of indoctrination in the Tradition itself. But indoctrination is only the beginning. The goal is not merely to inform the mind, but to cultivate the character of the student. One cannot just understand Tradition in the abstract, it must sink in and dye the core of one’s character. It must become second nature, so that one perceives and judges the world instantaneously and effortlessly in the light of Tradition. One must also learn prudence, the ability to apply universal principles to unique and shifting concrete circumstances. Tradition is not an ideology, which is a body of abstract ideas that can never be truly internalized and unified with one’s inner self. A lifestyle that is both unique and Traditionalist emerges spontaneously and organically from a truly cultivated individual.

The essay on “The Front of Tradition” is rather skimpy on concrete advice for the cultivation of the individual in the light of Tradition. One appealing notion is the use of discussion. A group that aims at the perfection of its members and their transformation into a vanguard fighting for great impersonal goals cannot allow individuals to hide their flaws and reservations behind bourgeois notions of privacy. Thus a Traditionalist society must practice group discussion in which individuals strive for openness. The goal is not merely the forgiveness of the confessional but the creation of trust and camaraderie that fuses individuals into a higher unity.

But openness about one’s doubts and flaws is merely a prelude to collective criticism and striving, again with the assistance of the group, to overcome oneself. This process of self-disclosure and group criticism and reform is not personal one-upsmanship and back-biting. Indeed, it is the highest form of friendship. The ancients distinguished flatterers from friends. A flatterer tells you what you want to hear. A friend tells you what you need to hear for your own good, even if it might be personally painful, because self-knowledge is necessary for self-improvement.

My main objection to the idea of an order that combines spiritual initiation and militant struggle is that excellence in these two functions are seldom combined in the same individual. The greatest initiate will seldom be the same person as the greatest warrior. Therefore, in establishing a hierarchy, one would have to choose to subordinate one function to another or to follow a leader who combines both functions, but who is inferior to the specialized warrior or the specialized initiate. The first option introduces internal conflict. The second option places leadership in the hands of an inferior individual. Both options lead to an organization that is inferior to one in which spiritual and military functions are distinct.

Overall, A Handbook of Traditional Living is more suggestive than definitive. The purpose of a handbook is not to be “deep” but to be superficial in an exhaustive manner. “Depth” for such a work is a matter of discerning what is essential. Yet there is much here that seems vague and inessential. But I still found this Handbook valuable as a starting point and stimulant for thinking about how some elements of a North American New Right might be organized.


Article printed from Counter-Currents Publishing: http://www.counter-currents.com

URL to article: http://www.counter-currents.com/2011/04/a-handbook-of-traditional-living-theory-practice/

URLs in this post:

[1] Image: http://www.counter-currents.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/a-handbook-of-traditional-living-theory-and-practive-book_1.jpg

[2] A Handbook of Traditional Living: Theory and Practice: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1907166068/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399349&creativeASIN=1907166068

[3] Revolt Against the Modern World: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/089281506X/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399349&creativeASIN=089281506X

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jeudi, 24 février 2011

Futurisme et dadaisme chez Evola

Futurisme et dadaïsme chez Evola

 

Salvatore FRANCIA

 

653-b.jpgNous devons également mentionner l'influence qu'exerça sur Evola adolescent le groupe qui s'était constitué autour des revues de Giovanni Papini et du mouvement futuriste. Le jeune Evola ne tarda pas à reconnaître toutefois que l'orientation générale du futurisme ne s'accordait que fort peu avec ses propres inclinaisons. Dans le futurisme, beaucoup de choses lui déplaisaient : le sensualisme, l'absence d'intériorité, les aspects tapageurs et exhibitionnistes, l'exaltation grossière de la vie et de l'instinct, curieusement mêlée a­vec celle du machinisme et d'une espèce d'américanisme, même si, par ailleurs, le futu­risme se référait à des formes chauvines de nationalisme.

 Justement, à propos du nationalisme, ses divergences de vue avec les futuristes appa­raissent dès le déclenchement de la première guerre mondiale, à cause de la violente campagne interventionniste déclenchée par le groupe de Papini et le mouvement futuris­te. Pour Evola, il était inconcevable que tous ces gens, avec à leur tête Papini, épousas­sent les lieux communs patriotards les plus éculés de la propagande anti-germanique, croyant ainsi sérieusement appuyer une guerre pour la défense de la civilisation et de la liberté contre la barbarie et l'agression.

 Evola, à l'époque, n'avait encore jamais quitté l'Italie et n'avait qu'un sentiment confus des structures hiérarchiques, féodales et traditionnelles présentes en Europe centrale, a­lors qu'elles avaient quasiment disparu du reste de l'Europe à la suite de la révolution française. Malgré l'imprécision de ses vues, ses sympathies allaient vers l'Autriche et l'Al­lemagne et il ne souhaitait pas l'abstention et la neutralité italiennes, mais une interven­tion aux côtés des puissances impériales d'Europe centrale. Après avoir lu un article d'E­vola dans ce sens, Marinetti lui aurait dit textuellement : « Tes idées sont aussi éloignées des miennes que celles d'un Esquimau ».

Après 1918, Evola est attiré par le mouvement dadaïste, surtout à cause de son radicalis­me. Le dadaïsme défendait une vision générale de la vie sous-tendue par une impulsion vers une libération absolue se manifestant sous des formes paradoxales et déconcertan­tes, accompagnées d'un bouleversement de toutes les catégories logiques, éthiques et esthétiques. « Ce qui vit en nous est de l'ordre du divin, affirmait Tristan Tzara, c'est le ré­veil de l'action anti-humaine ». Ou encore : « Nous cherchons la force directe, pure, sobre, unique, nous ne cherchons rien d'autre ». Le dadaïsme ne pouvait conduire nulle part : il signalait bien plutôt l'auto-dissolution de l'art dans un état supérieur de liberté. Pour Evo­la, c'est en cela que résidait la signification essentielle du dadaïsme. C'est ce que nous constatons en effet à la lecture de son article « Sul significato dell'arte modernissima », re­produit en appendice de ses Saggi sull'idealismo magico, publiés en 1925. En réalité, le mouvement auquel Evola avait été associé n'a réalisé que bien peu de choses. Evola en avait espéré davantage. Si le dadaïsme représentait la limite extrême et indépassable de tous les courants d'avant-garde, tout ne s'auto-consommait pas dans l'expérience d'une rupture effective avec toutes les formes d'art.

Au dadaïsme succéda le surréalisme, dont le caractère, du point de vue d'Evola, était ré­gressif, parce que, d'une part, il cultivait une espèce d'automatisme psychique se tour­nant vers les strates subconscientes et inconscientes de l'être (au point de se solidariser avec le psychanalyse elle-même) et, d'autre part, se bornait à transmettre des sensations confuses venues d'un « au-delà » inquiétant et insaisissable de la réalité, sans aucune ou­verture véritable vers le haut.

 Il est difficile de parler de la peinture d'Evola, vu l'abstraction des sujets. En contemplant les tableaux d'Evola et en lisant ses poèmes dadaïstes, on comprend que le monde mo­derne, tel que le percevaient les élites des premières années de notre siècle, apparais­sait comme le symbole du dénuement et de la purification. Ces élites rejetaient les ori­peaux de la culture bourgeoise du XIXème et voulaient créer rapidement une « nouvelle objectivité » que certains ont cru découvrir dans le bolchevisme et d'autres dans le nazis­me.

 À 23 ans, Evola cesse définitivement de peindre et d'écrire des poésies. Ses intérêts le portent vers une autre sphère.

 (Extrait de Il pensiero tradizionale di Julius Evola, Società Editrice Barbarossa, Milano, 1994 ; ouvrage disponible auprès de notre service librairie. Prix: 240 FB ou 45 FF, port compris).

vendredi, 11 février 2011

Julius Evola's Concept of Race: A Racism of Three Degrees

Julius Evola’s Concept of Race:
A Racism of Three Degrees

Michael Bell

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

EvolaTrent'AnniDopo.jpgSince the rise of physical anthropology, the definition of the term “race” has undergone several changes. In 1899, William Z. Ripley stated that, “Race, properly speaking, is responsible only for those peculiarities, mental or bodily, which are transmitted with constancy along the lines of direct physical descent.”[1]

In 1916, Madison Grant described it as the “immutability of somatological or bodily characters, with which is closely associated the immutability of psychical predispositions and impulses.”[2] He was echoed a decade later by German anthropologist Hans F. K. Günther, who in his Racial Elements of European History said, “A race shows itself in a human group which is marked off from every other human group through its own proper combination of bodily and mental characteristics, and in turn produces only its like.”[3]

According to the English-born Canadian evolutionary psychologist J. Philippe Rushton:

Each race (or variety) is characterized by a more or less distinct combination of inherited morphological, behavioral, physiological traits. . . . Formation of a new race takes place when, over several generations, individuals in one group reproduce more frequently among themselves than they do with individuals in other groups. This process is most apparent when the individuals live in diverse geographic areas and therefore evolve unique, recognizable adaptations (such as skin color) that are advantageous in their specific environments.[4]

These examples indicate that, within the academic context (where those who still believe in “race” are fighting a losing battle with the hierophants of cultural anthropology), a race is simply a human group with distinct common physical and mental traits that are inherited.

Among white racialists, where race has more than a merely scientific importance, a deeper dimension was added to the concept: that of the spirit. In The Decline of the West, Oswald Spengler set forth the idea of the Apollinian, Faustian, and Magian “soul forms,” which can be understood as spiritual racial types.[5] In his highly influential Spenglerian tome Imperium, Francis Parker Yockey elaborated this notion, asserting that while there are genetically related individuals within any particular human group, race itself is spiritual: it is a deeply felt sense of identity connected with a drive to perpetuate not just genes, but a whole way of life. “Race impels toward self-preservation, continuance of the cycle of generations, increase of power.”[6] Spiritual race is a drive toward a collective destiny.

The spiritual side of race, however, was never systematically explained to the same extent as the physical. Its existence was, rather, merely suggested and taken for granted. It was only in the writings of the much overlooked Italian Radical Traditionalist and esotericist Julius Evola that the spiritual dimension was finally articulated in detail. One who has studied race from the biological, psychological, and social perspectives should turn to Evola’s writings for a culminating lesson on the subject. Evola’s writings provide a wealth of information that one cannot get elsewhere. Through a careful analysis of ancient literature and myths, along with anthropology, biology, history, and related subjects, Evola has pieced together a comprehensive explanation of the racial spirit.

My purpose here is simply to outline Evola’s doctrine of race. Since Evola’s life and career have been thoroughly examined elsewhere,[7] the only biographical fact relevant here is that Evola’s thoughts on race were officially adopted as policy by Mussolini’s Fascist party in 1942.[8]

Body and Mind

Evola’s precise definition of “race” is similar to Yockey’s: it is an inner essence that a person must “have”; this will be explained further below. In the meantime, a good starting point is Evola’s understanding of distinct human groups.

Evola agrees with the physical anthropologists that there are distinct groups with common physical traits produced by a common genotype: “the external form . . . which, from birth to birth, derives from the ‘gene’ . . . is called phenotype.”[9] He refers to these groups as “races of the body,” and concurs with Günther that suitable examples include the Nordic, Mediterranean, East Baltic, Orientalid, Negroid, and many others.[10]

Evola decribes the “race of the soul” as the collective mental and behavioral traits of a human stock, and the outward “style” through which these are exhibited. Every race has essentially the same mental predispositions; all human peoples, for example, desire sexual satisfaction from a mate. However, each human stock manifests these inner instincts externally in a different way, and it is this “style,” as Evola terms it, which is the key component of the “race of the soul.”

To illustrate this point, compare the Spartan strategos (Nordic soul) to the Carthaginian shofet (Levantine soul)[11]: the Spartan considers it heroic to fight hand-to-hand with shield and spear and cowardly to attack from a distance with projectiles, whereas the Carthaginian finds it natural to employ elephants and grand siege equipment to utterly shock and scatter his enemies for an expedient victory.

The names of these races of the soul correspond to those of the body, hence a Nordic soul, a Mediterranean soul, Levantine soul, etc. Evola devotes an entire chapter in Men Among the Ruins to comparing the “Nordic” or “Aryo-Roman” soul to the “Mediterranean.” The Nordic soul is that of “‘the race of the active man,’ of the man who feels that the world is presented to him as material for possession and attack.”[12] It is the character of the quintessential “strong and silent type”:

Among them we should include self-control, an enlightened boldness, a concise speech and determined and coherent conduct, and a cold dominating attitude, exempt from personalism and vanity. . . . The same style is characterized by deliberate actions, without grand gestures; a realism that is not materialism, but rather love for the essential . . . the readiness to unite, as free human beings and without losing one’s identity, in view of a higher goal or for an idea.[13]

Evola also quotes Helmuth Graf von Moltke (the Elder) on the Nordic ethos: “Talk little, do much, and be more than you appear to be.”[14]

The Mediterranean soul is the antithesis of the Nordic. This sort of person is a vain, noisy show-off who does things just to be noticed. Such a person might even do great deeds sometimes, but they are not done primarily for their positive value, but merely to draw attention. In addition, the Mediterranean makes sexuality the focal point of his existence.[15] The resemblance of this picture to the average narcissistic, sex- and celebrity-obsessed American of today—whether genetically Nordic or Mediterranean—is striking. One need only watch American Idol or browse through the profiles of Myspace.com to see this.

Race of the Spirit

The deepest and therefore most complicated aspect of race for Evola is that of the “spirit.” He defines it as a human stock’s “varying attitude towards the spiritual, supra-human, and divine world, as expressed in the form of speculative systems, myths, and symbols, and the diversity of religious experience itself.”[16] In other words, it is the manner in which different peoples interact with the gods as conveyed through their cultures; a “culture” would include rituals, temple architecture, the role of a priesthood (or complete lack thereof), social hierarchy, the status of women, religious symbolism, sexuality, art, etc. This culture, or worldview, is not simply the product of sociological causes, however. It is the product of something innate within a stock, a “meta-biological force, which conditions both the physical and the psychical structures” of its individual members.[17]

The “meta-biological force” in question has two different forms. The first corresponds to an id or a collective unconscious, a sort of group mind-spirit that splinters off into individual spirits and enters a group member’s body upon birth. Evola describes it as “subpersonal” and belonging “to nature and the infernal world.”[18] Most ancient peoples, as he explains, depicted this force symbolically in their myths and sagas; examples would include the animal totems of American aborigines, the ka of the Pharaonic Egyptians, or the lares of the Latin peoples. The “infernal” nature of the latter example was emphasized by the fact that the lares were believed to be ruled over by an underground deity named Mania.[19] When a person died, this metaphysical element would be absorbed back into the collective from whence it came, only to be recycled into another body, but devoid of any recollection of its former life.

The second form, superior to the first, is one that does not exist in every stock naturally, or in every member of a given stock; it is an otherworldly force that must be drawn into the blood of a people through the practice of certain rites. This action corresponds to the Hindu notion of “realizing the Self,” or experiencing a oneness with the divine source of all existence and order (Brahman). Such a task can only be accomplished by a gifted few, who by making this divine connection undergo an inner transformation. They become aware of immutable principles, in the name of which they go on to forge their ethnic kin into holistic States—microcosmic versions of the transcendent principle of Order itself. Thus, the Brahmins and Kshatriyas of India, the patricians of Rome, and the samurai of Japan had a “race of the spirit,” which is essential to “having race” itself. Others may have the races of body and soul, but race of the spirit is race par excellence.

Transcendence is experienced differently by different ethnic groups. As a result, different understandings of the immutable arise across the world; from these differences emerge several “races of the spirit.” Evola focuses on two in particular. The first is the “telluric spirit” characterized by a deep “connection to the soil.” This race worships the Earth in its various cultural manifestations (Cybele, Gaia, Magna Mater, Ishtar, Inanna, etc.) and a consort of “demons.” Their view of the afterlife is fatalistic: the individual spirit is spawned from the Earth and then returns to the Earth, or to the infernal realm of Mania, upon death, with no other possibility.[20] Their society is matriarchal, with men often taking the last names of their mothers and familial descent being traced through the mother. In addition, women often serve as high priestesses. The priesthood, in fact, is given preeminence, whereas the aristocratic warrior element is subordinated, if it exists at all.

This race has had representatives in all the lands of Europe, Asia, and Africa that were first populated by pre-Aryans: the Iberians, Etruscans, Pelasgic-Minoans, Phoenicians, the Indus Valley peoples, and all others of Mediterranean, Oriental, and Negroid origin. The invasions of Aryan stock would introduce to these peoples a diametrically opposed racial spirit: the “Solar” or “Olympian” race.

The latter race worships the heavenly god of Order, manifested as Brahman, Ahura-Mazda, Tuisto (the antecedent of Odin), Chronos, Saturn, and the various sun deities from America to Japan. Its method of worship is not the self-prostration and humility practiced by Semites, or the ecstatic orgies of Mediterraneans, but heroic action (for the warriors) and meditative contemplation (for the priests), both of which establish a direct link with the divine. Olympian societies are hierarchical, with a priestly caste at the top, followed by a warrior caste, then a caste of tradesmen, and finally a laboring caste. The ruler himself assumes the dual role of priest and warrior, which demonstrates that the priesthood did not occupy the helm of society as they did among telluric peoples. Finally, the afterlife was not seen as an inescapable dissolution into nothingness, but as one of two potential conclusions of a test. Those who live according to the principles of their caste, without straying totally from the path, and who come to “realize the Self,” experience a oneness with God and enter a heavenly realm that is beyond death. Those who live a worthless, restless existence that places all emphasis on material and physical things, without ever realizing the presence of the divine Self within all life, undergoes the “second death,”[21] or the return to the collective racial mind-spirit mentioned earlier.

The Olympian race has appeared throughout history in the following forms: in America as the Incas; in Europe and Asia as the Indo-European speaking peoples; in Africa as the Egyptians; and in the Far East as the Japanese. Generally, this race of the spirit has been carried by waves of phenotypically Nordic peoples, which will be explained further below.

Racial Genesis

Of considerable importance to Evola’s racial worldview is his explanation of human history. Contrary to the views of most physical anthropologists and archaeologists, and even many intellectual white racialists, humanity did not evolve from a primitive, simian ancestor, and then branch off into different genetic populations. Evolution itself is a fallacy to Evola, who believed it to be rooted in the equally false ideology of progressivism: “We do not believe that man is derived from the ape by evolution. We believe that the ape is derived from man by involution. We agree with De Maistre that savage peoples are not primitive peoples, but rather the degenerating remnants of more ancient races that have disappeared.”[22]

Evola argues in many of his works, like Bal Ganghadar Tilak and René Guénon before him, that the Aryan peoples of the world descend from a race that once inhabited the Arctic. In “distant prehistory” this land was the seat of a super-civilization—“super” not for its material attainments, but for its connection to the gods—that has been remembered by various peoples as Hyperborea, Airyana-Vaego, Mount Meru, Tullan, Eden, and other labels; Evola uses the Hellenic rendition “Hyperborea” more than the rest, probably to remain consistent and avoid confusion among his readers. The Hyperboreans themselves, as he explains, were the original bearers of the Olympian racial spirit.

Due to a horrible cataclysm, the primordial seat was destroyed, and the Hyperboreans were forced to migrate. A heavy concentration of refugees ended up at a now lost continent somewhere in the Atlantic, where they established a new civilization that corresponded to the “Atlantis” of Plato and the “Western land” of the Celts and other peoples. History repeated itself, and ultimately this seat was also destroyed, sending forth an Eastward-Westward wave of migrants. As Evola notes, this particular wave “[corresponded] to Cro-Magnon man, who made his appearance toward the end of the glacial age in the Western part of Europe,”[23] thus lending some historical evidence to his account. This “pure Aryan” stock would ultimately become the proto-Nordic race of Europe, which would then locally evolve into the multitude of Nordic stocks who traveled across the world and founded the grandest civilizations, from Incan Peru to Shintoist Japan.

Evola spends less time tracing the genesis of nonwhite peoples, which he consistently refers to as “autochthonous,” “bestial,” and “Southern” races. In his seminal work Revolt Against the Modern World, he says that the “proto-Mongoloid and Negroid races . . . probably represented the last residues of the inhabitants of a second prehistoric continent, now lost, which was located in the South, and which some designated as Lemuria.”[24] In contrast to the superior Nordic-Olympians, these stocks were telluric worshippers of the Earth and its elemental demons. Semites and other mixed races, Evola asserts, are the products of miscegenation between Atlantean settlers and these Lemurian races. Civilizations such as those of the pre-Hellenes, Mohenjo-Daro, pre-dynastic Egyptians, and Phoenicians, among countless others, were founded by these mixed peoples.

Racialism in Practice

Racialist movements from National Socialist Germany to contemporary America have tended to emphasize preserving physical racial types. While phenotypes were important to Evola, his foremost goal for racialism was to safeguard the Olympian racial spirit of European man. It was from this spirit that the greatest Indo-European civilizations received the source of their leadership, the principles around which they centered their lives, and thus the wellspring of their vitality. While de Gobineau, Grant, and Hitler argued that blood purity was the determining factor in the life of a civilization, Evola contended that “Only when a civilization’s ‘spiritual race’ is worn out or broken does its decline set in.”[25] Any people who manages to maintain a physical racial ideal with no inner spiritual substance is a race of “very beautiful animals destined to work,”[26] but not destined to produce a higher civilization.

The importance of phenotypes is described thusly: “The physical form is the instrument, expression, and symbol of the psychic form.”[27] Evola felt that it would only be possible to discover the desired spiritual type (Olympian) through a systematic examination of physical types. Even to Evola, a Sicilian baron, the best place to look in this regard was the “Aryan or Nordic-Aryan body”; as he mentions on several occasions, it was, after all, this race that carried the Olympian Tradition across the world. He called this process of physical selection “racism of the first degree,” which was the first of three stages.

Once the proper Nordic phenotype was identified, various “appropriate” tests comprising racism of the second and third degrees would be implemented to determine a person’s racial soul and spirit.[28] Evola never laid out a specific program for this, but makes allusions in his works to assessments in which a person’s political and racial opinions would be taken into account. In his Elements of Racial Education, he asserts that “The one who says yes to racism is one in which race still lives,” and that one who has race is intrinsically against democratic ideals. He also likens true racism to the “classical spirit,” which is rooted in “exaltation of everything which has form, face, and individuation, as opposed to what is formless, vague, and undifferentiated.”[29] Keep in mind that for Evola, “having race” is synonymous with having the “Olympian race” of the spirit. Upon discovering a mentality that fits the criteria for soul and spirit, a subsequent education of “appropriate disciplines” would be carried out to ensure that the racial spirit within this person is “maintained and developed.” Through such trials, conducted on a wide scale, a nation can determine those people within it who embody the racial ideal and the capacity for leadership.

Protecting and developing the Nordic-Olympians was primary for Evola, but his racialism had other goals. He sought to produce the “unified type,” or a person in whom the races of body, soul, and spirit matched one another and worked together harmoniously. For example: “A soul which experiences the world as something before which it takes a stand actively, which regards the world as an object of attack and conquest, should have a face which reflects by determined and daring features this inner experience, a slim, tall, nervous, straight body—an Aryan or Nordic-Aryan body.”[30]

This was important because “it is not impossible that physical appearances peculiar to a given race may be accompanied by the psychic traits of a different race.”[31] To Evola, if people chose mates on the basis of physical features alone, there is a good chance that various mental and spiritual elements would become intermingled and generate a dangerous confusion; there would be Nordics with Semitic mental characteristics and Asiatic spiritual predispositions, Alpines with Nordic proclivities and fatalistic religious attitudes, and so on. Such a mixture was what Evola considered to be a mongrel type, in whom “cosmopolitan myths of equality” become manifested mentally, thus paving the way for the beasts of democracy and communism to permeate the nation and take hold.

Evola cared more about the aristocratic racial type, but he did not want the populace to become a bastardized mass: “We must commit ourselves to the task of applying to the nation as a whole the criteria of coherence and unity, of correspondence between outer and inner elements.”[32] If the aristocracy had as its subjects a blob of spiritless, internally broken people, the nation would have no hope. For the Fascist state, he promoted an educational campaign to ensure that the peoples of Italy selected their mates appropriately, looking for both appearances and behavior; non-Europeans would of course be excluded entirely. The school system would play its role, as would popular literature and films.[33]

Another way to develop the “inner race” is through combat. Not combat in the modern sense of pressing a button and instantly obliterating a hundred people, but combat as it unfolds in the trenches and on the battlefield, when it is man against man, as well as man against his inner demons. Evola writes “the experience of war, and the instincts and currents of deep forces which emerge through such an experience, give the racial sense a right, fecund direction.”[34] Meanwhile, the comfortable bourgeois lifestyle and its pacifist worldview lead to the crippling of the inner race, which will ultimately become extinguished if external damage is thenceforth inflicted (via intermixing with inferior elements).

Conclusion

American racialists have much to gain from an introduction to Evola’s thoughts on race. In the American context, racialism is virtually devoid of any higher, spiritual element; many racialists even take pride in this. There are, without a doubt, many racialists who consider themselves devout Catholics or Protestants, and they may even be so. However, the reality of race as a spiritual phenomenon is given little attention, if any at all. For whatever reason, American racialists are convinced that the greatness of Western civilization, evinced by its literature, architecture, discoveries, inventions, conquests, empires, political treatises, economic achievements, and the like, lie solely in the mental characteristics of its people. For instance, the Romans erected the coliseum, the English invented capitalism, and the Greeks developed the Pythagorean theorem simply because they all had high IQs. When one compares the achievements of different Western peoples, and those of the West to the East, however, this explanation appears inadequate.

Intelligence alone cannot explain the different styles that are conveyed through the culture forms of different peoples; the Greeks’ Corinthian order on the one hand, and the Arabs’ mosques and minarets on the other, are not results of mere intellect. Sociological explanations do not work either; the Egyptians and the Mayans lived in vastly different environments, yet both evoked their style through pyramids and hieroglyphs. The only explanation for these phenomena is that there is something deeper within a folk, something deeper and more powerful than bodily structures and mental predispositions. As Evola elucidates through his multitude of works—themselves the result of intense study of ancient and modern texts from every discipline imaginable—race has a “super-biological” aspect: a spiritual force. Ancient peoples understood this reality and conveyed it through their myths: the Romans used the lares; the Mayans used totemic animal symbols; the Persians used the fravashi, which were synonymous with the Nordic valkyries[35]; the Egyptians used the ka; and the Hindus in the Bhagavad-Gita used Lord Krishna.

To better understand the spiritual side of race, the best place to look is Julius Evola. Through his works, which have greatly influenced the European New Right, Evola dissects and examines the concept of the Volksgeist, or racial spirit. It is the supernatural force that animates the bodies of a given race and stimulates the wiring in their brains. It is the substance from which cultures arise, and from which an aristocracy materializes to raise those cultures to higher civilizations. Without it, a race is simply a tribe of automatons that feed and copulate:

When the super biological element that is the center and the measure of true virility is lost, people can call themselves men, but in reality they are just eunuchs and their paternity simply reflects the quality of animals who, blinded by instinct, procreate randomly other animals, who in turn are mere vestiges of existence.[36]

Nowhere would Evola’s racial ideas be more valuable than in the United States, a land in which the idea of transcendent realities is mocked, if not violently attacked. Even American racialists, who nostalgically look back to “better” times when people were more “traditional,” are completely unaware of how the Aryan Tradition, in its purest form, understands the concept of race. Many of these people claim to be “Aryan” while simultaneously calling themselves “atheist” or “agnostic,” although in ancient societies, one needed to practice the necessary religious rites and undergo certain trials before having the right to style onself an Aryan. Hence the need for these “atheist Aryans” to become more familiar with Julius Evola.

Notes

1. William Z. Ripley, The Races of Europe: A Sociological Study (New York: D. Appleton and Co., 1899), 1.

2. Madison Grant, The Passing of the Great Race (North Stratford, N.H.: Ayer Company Publishers, Inc., 2000), xix.

3. H. F. K. Günther, The Racial Elements of European History, trans. G. C. Wheeler (Uckfield, Sussex, UK: Historical Review Press, 2007), 9.

4. J. Philippe Rushton, “Statement on Race as a Biological Concept,” November 4, 1996, http://www.nationalistlibrary.com/index2.php?option=com_c...

5. Oswald Spengler, The Decline of the West, 2 vols., trans. Charles Francis Atkinson (New York: Knopf, 1926 & 1928), vol. 1, chs. 6 and 9; cf. vol. 2, ch. 5, “Cities and Peoples. (B) Peoples, Races, Tongues.”

6. Francis Parker Yockey, Imperium (Newport Beach, Cal.: Noontide Press, 2000), 293.

7. See the Introduction to Julius Evola, Men Among the Ruins, trans. Guido Stucco, (Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions International, 2002).

8. Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 47.

9. Julius Evola, The Elements of Racial Education, trans. Thompkins and Cariou (Thompkins & Cariou, 2005), 11.

10. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 34–35.

11. For more on the Levantine “race of the soul” see Elements of Racial Education, 35.

12. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 35.

13. Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 259.

14. Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 262.

15. Evola, Men Among the Ruins, 260. Evola’s descriptions of Nordic and Mediterranean proclivities show the strong influence of Günther’s The Racial Elements of European History.

16. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 29.

17. Julius Evola, Metaphysics of War: Battle, Victory & Death in the World of Tradition, ed. John Morgan and Patrick Boch (Aarhus, Denmark: Integral Tradition Publishing, 2007), 63.

18. Julius Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, trans. Guido Stucco (Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions International, 1995), 48.

19. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 48.

20. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 40.

21. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 48.

22. Julius Evola, Eros and the Mysteries of Love, trans. anonymous (Rochester, Vt.: Inner Traditions International, 1991), 9.

23. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 195.

24. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 197.

25. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 58.

26. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 170.

27. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 30.

28. Julius Evola, “Race as a Builder of Leaders,” trans. Thompkins and Cariou, http://thompkins_cariou.tripod.com/id7.html.

29. Evola, The Elements of Racial Education, 14, 15.

30. Evola, The Elements of Racial Education, 31.

31. Evola, “Race as a Builder of Leaders.”

32. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 33.

33. Evola, Elements of Racial Education, 25.

34. Evola, Metaphysics of War, 69.

35. Evola, Metaphysics of War, 34.

36. Evola, Revolt Against the Modern World, 170.

Source: TOQ, vol.9, no. 2 (Spring 2009).

mardi, 08 février 2011

Sulla via del risveglio

La-dottrina-del-risvegllio.jpg

Domenico Turco
SULLA VIA DEL RISVEGLIO
 L’Idealismo “esistenziale” di Julius Evola

 

C’è una fondamentale differenza tra l’idealismo classico e l’idealismo magico o “concreto” di Julius Evola, il quale assegna al pensiero una funzione attiva ed affermativa, in vista della messa in pratica di principi di saggezza utilizzabili nella ricerca interiore dell’uomo.

 

Ex: http://www.mondo3.it/

Da qui deriva la successiva attenzione per le più diverse tradizioni spirituali, ampliando lo schema di riferimento del Tradizionalismo integrale, mediante la scoperta o la rivalutazione di insegnamenti alternativi, come la dottrina del risveglio buddhista, lo Shintoismo e altre religioni, valorizzate in relazione al percorso evolutivo dell’esistenza individuale verso il risveglio o l’illuminazione spirituale dell’io.

Rispetto ad altri esponenti della corrente tradizionalista, Evola si distingue per la sua originale formulazione del problema esistenziale, in genere scarsamente frequentato da Guénon e seguaci. L’interesse per l’esistenza si giustifica con la finalità prevalentemente pratica del Tradizionalismo evoliano, diretto alla realizzazione dell’io in termini spirituali e trascendenti, ma riconducibile anche ad un orientamento etico, relativo ad una trasformazione delle istanze valoriali.

La dimensione esistenziale era presente già prima della svolta tradizionalista degli anni Trenta, all’epoca dell’Idealismo magico, orientamento filosofico tendente a oltrepassare le ristrette vedute della concezione idealistica di origine hegeliana.

L’espressione idealismo magico non presuppone un riferimento alla magia nel significato corrente del termine; per magia infatti Evola intende un’attività demiurgica sull’io che porti al dominio di sé e al rigetto della realtà empirica, secondo un principio ascetico che verte sulla nozione di purificazione, peculiare di ogni visione spirituale che si rispetti.

È con atteggiamento quasi mistico che Evola parlerà di una estinzione del legame tutto terreno e immanente tra noi e gli enti. La possibilità di una realizzazione del nostro mondo interiore nel segno della personalità autentica risiede nel rivolgimento all’io come centro di gravitazione spirituale, e non certo nel banale commercio consumistico con l’ente in qualità di “semplice-presenza”.  

Il compimento dell’esistenza consiste in una graduale liberazione dalla “sete” o “brama” nel senso della <<dottrina del risveglio>> buddhista, liberazione come e in quanto liquidazione di ogni compromesso tra le cose e l'uomo, secondo una significativa ed efficace espressione evoliana.            

Il trapasso dell’Idealismo prevede appunto un concentrarsi su quella prospettiva magica individuata nell’autorealizzazione di un io in via di costruzione o di cristallizzazione, per usare un termine tecnico dell'alchimia.

Qui entra in gioco l’ideale della personalità, che da mezzo dell’esistenza deve tornare ad esserne il fine...

La persona immemore di sé stessa può guadagnare la sua liberazione evolvendo in personalità, dimensione di una rinnovata consapevolezza spirituale, che Evola definisce come potenza e che deriva dal riconoscimento di un principio divino immanente nell’io, secondo un’ottica da illuminazione buddhista, sia pure nel quadro di una terminologia ancora influenzata dall’Idealismo.

In ogni caso, l’Idealismo evoliano denota una forte volontà di emanciparsi dal paradigma hegeliano, in cui la realtà era subordinata alle ragioni dell’Assoluto. Evola modifica l’Idealismo riportandolo alle origini, al suo fondo spirituale.

La concezione idealistica è qui interpretata solo come presa di contatto con una realtà più ampia di quella proiettata dai nostri sensi e rielaborata dall’intelletto, ma senza nessuna concessione ai deliri visionari della riflessione romantica.

Evola accentua soprattutto la funzione formatrice del pensiero metafisico, gli attribuisce una vocazione didattica, che è riconosciuta sin dagli inizi della sua attività di pensatore-scrittore. Consapevole che la filosofia idealistica era giunta al crepuscolo, Evola rimarrà fedele alla propria equazione personale di "idealismo," riformato profondamente in senso esistenziale, esoterico e metafisico nell’accezione aristotelica, relativa alla dimensione che va al di là del semplice piano “fisico”, sovra-naturale in un significato superiore.

L’attenzione di Evola al problema dell’esistenza può sorprendere, considerata la successiva sconfessione dei vari esistenzialismi contemporanei.

In realtà la sua critica sarà in seguito indirizzata all’ Esistenzialismo come filosofia del piagnisteo, che abbandona ogni programma di riscatto sul piano ascetico o eroico , per lasciare il posto ai remissivi miti del vivere-per-la-morte e del naufragio nichilistico.

Evola  rende ragione dell'importanza della corrente esistenzialistica come pensiero della coscienza infelice sperimentata dall’uomo-massa contemporaneo, pensiero della crisi che per sortire una valenza positiva deve essere superato, attraverso una messa in questione della realtà di tutti i giorni, in direzione della Trascendenza.

Evola propone un rifiuto delle sovrastrutture che soffocano il nucleo fondamentale della dottrina idealistica, che pone una realtà superiore a quella suggerita dai sensi della comune esperienza, e come tale determinante un principio peraltro già presente nella filosofia perenne e nelle prospettive spirituali, religiose o di carattere esoterico, che saranno discusse a vario titolo nel successivo sviluppo tradizionale della riflessione evoliana.

L’esistenza è interpretata come laboratorio, opera in divenire e luogo di scontro con le forze occulte sovrastanti il singolo, che ha l’obbligo di costruire la sua personalità e così identificarsi progressivamente nel ruolo di uomo differenziato, che è un ruolo estremamente complicato nell’era del secolarismo contemporaneo e delle sue contraddizioni.

La differenziazione come modalità di intervento sull’io sembra rinviare a un concetto di autocompimento esistenziale assimilabile alla posizione del Buddhismo, qui inteso come prassi di dominio della coscienza e tecnica d’ascesi.

Il senso dell’illuminazione ascetica presuppone un processo di graduale liberazione dagli orpelli della conoscenza ordinaria, che ha come suo fine specifico il purificare la dimensione umana dalle cose.

Nella prospettiva evoliana, non è essenziale assumere integralmente gli aspetti confessionali del messaggio di Siddharta: al Buddhismo si attribuisce soprattutto una funzione pratica, come complesso di metodologie dirette al prodursi di una forza interiore, di una potenza esotericamente orientata.

Il Buddhismo delle origini pone inoltre l’accento su un percorso di salvezza individuale non consolatorio, che è particolarmente congeniale alla sensibilità di Julius Evola, e in linea con l’ideale della spiritualità virile.

Evola sente una profonda vocazione a diffondere un messaggio che è sì filosofico, ma che sarebbe del tutto incomprensibile senza la preventiva adozione di una prospettiva di vita individuale, di sperimentazione attiva e in prima persona di un percorso di cambiamento. 

L’esistenza reclama una filosofia che ne guidi l’orientamento nel mondo, la quale, tornando a essere amore della sapienza, deve necessariamente alimentarsi dell’esistenza, di una progettualità esistenziale di origine alchemica, finalizzata alla trasmutazione e quindi all’autorealizzazione dell’io, al dominio di sé e delle vere leggi della realtà.

Evola caldeggia l’ipotesi di una filosofia sperimentale, che vincoli il sapere all’agire, e l’agire al vivere nel mondo, assumendo una missione esistenziale, che consiste nel promuovere una visione spirituale trascendente.

E, di contro, è espresso con forza il rifiuto di una statica e passiva adesione a quelli che sono i valori correnti, le categorie negative del nichilismo, dell’edonismo esasperato, del materialismo, e del dogmatismo fine a sé stesso.

La ragione della differenza peculiare da Guenon consiste anche nel fatto che Evola non si accosta al mondo della Tradizione da un punto di vista meramente teorico, ma solo dopo aver sperimentato di persona e sulla propria pelle quell’esigenza di autorealizzazione spirituale che è l’obiettivo principale di ogni ricerca sull’essenza della verità, e quindi sul valore da assegnare alla nostra esistenza…

dimanche, 06 février 2011

Vor 100 Jahren starb Carlo Michelstaedter

michelst.jpg

Vor 100 Jahren starb Carlo Michelstaedter

Ex: http://traditionundmetaphysik.wordpress.com/

„Carlo ist das empfindsame Bewußtsein des Jahrhunderts, und der Tod hat keine Macht über die Konjugation des Seins, nur über das Haben.“ (Claudio Magris, S. 46)


Am 17. Oktober 1910 tötete sich der Görzer Philosophiestudent Carlo Michelstaedter im Alter von 23 Jahren mit einer Pistole, die ihm ein Freund überlassen hatte, nach einer Auseinandersetzung mit seiner Mutter an deren Geburtstag. Die Mutter sollte drei Jahrzehnte später im Alter von 89 Jahren im Konzentrationslager Auschwitz ums Leben kommen. Der Freund Enrico Mreule war zwei Jahre zuvor nach Argentinien abgereist um dem Wehrdienst zu entgehen, die Pistole hatte er nicht mit aufs Schiff nehmen dürfen. Die Isolation, in die der junge Maler, Poet und Philosoph nach diesem entfernungsbedingten Verlust des engen Freundes und durch zwei Selbstmorde – seines Bruders Gino in Neu-York zur gleichen Zeit und einer Freundin zwei Jahre zuvor – geraten war, dürfte wesentlich zur impulsiven Tat, der kein schriftlicher Abschied vorausgegangen war, beigetragen haben. Manche wollen in der gerade für die Universität Florenz fertiggestellten philosophischen Dissertation „Überzeugung und Rhetorik“ einen solchen Abschied vor einem „metaphysischen Selbstmord“ sehen. Dies ist aber nicht zwingend, vielleicht war es eher die Anstrengung und Erschöpfung der intellektuellen Leistung als der Inhalt, der zu der Tat beigetragen hat. Zehn Tage vor dem Tod hatte er auch seine zweite wichtige philosophische Arbeit, den „Dialog über die Gesundheit“ fertiggestellt. Beigesetzt ist Michelstaedter auf dem hebräischen Friedhof, der heute im slowenisch annektierten Teil von Görz, „Nova Gorica“, liegt. (Eine aktuelle Abbildung des Grabsteins: La tomba di Carlo Michelstaedter al cimitero ebraico di Gorizia (Nova Gorica)

Der „Buddha des Westens“

Carlo Michelstaedter, geboren am 3. Juni 1887, der in den Schulregistern noch als Karl Michlstädter geführt worden war, entstammte einer deutsch-jüdischen Familie, die im österreichischen Görz, einer multikulturellen – italienisch-slowenisch-deutschen -Stadt eine Heimat gefunden hatte. Der jüdische Aspekt der Familiengeschichte hat im Leben von Carlo Michelstaedter praktisch keine Rolle gespielt. Carlos Vater, ein Direktor eines Versicherungsinstitus, war als Positivist der jüdischen Religion völlig entfremdet. Carlo durchschaute die Rhetorik der wissenschaftliche Zivilisation und des bürgerlichen Lebens, beschäftigte sich mit dem Judentum aber kaum, mit der Ausnahme eines gewissen Interesses für einen entfernten Verwandten, Isacco Samuele Reggio, der als Verfechter der Übereinstimmung des jüdischen Gesetzes mit der –aufklärerischen – Philosophie in Görz im 19. Jahrhundert von Bedeutung gewesen war. Carlos hauptsächlichen intellektuellen Bezugspunkte waren aber die griechische Antike und die deutsche Philosophie: Homer, Platon, Aristoteles, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, dazu die Literatur von Leopardi, Ibsen und Tolstoj. Die Lehren Christi und Buddhas übten wie die Veden und Upanishaden ebenfalls einen Einfluß aus, der aber durch das platonisch-schopenhauerische Prisma gebrochen war. Im Gymnasium wurde Michelstaedter von einem bemerkenswerten Mann unterrichtet: Richard von Schubert-Soldern, der von seinem Lehrstuhl an der Universität Leipzig an das Görzer Gymnasium gekommen war, Vertreter eines erkenntnistheoretischen gnoseologischen Solipsismus oder Immanentismus (Verneinung der – erkenntnismäßigen, nicht praktischen – Transzendenz der Außenwelt.)

Ein abgebrochenes Studium der Mathematik in Wien, das den künstlerischen Neigungen weichen mußte, ergänzt noch das Bild eines vielseitig begabten Mannes, „der gelehrt hatte, daß Philosophie – die Liebe zur ungeteilten Wahrheit – bedeutet, ferne Dinge zu sehen, als wären sie nah, und das brennende Verlangen auszulöschen, sie zu ergreifen, denn sie sind einfach da, in der tiefen Stille des Seins.“ So der italienische Germanist Claudio Magris in seinem Roman „Ein anderes Meer“, der die Geschichte von Carlos Freund Enrico, beginnend mit der Überfahrt nach Argentinien bis zu seiner Rückkehr nach Görz und die darauffolgenden Jahre des Faschismus und der jugoslawisch-kommunistischen Annexion, aus dessen Perspektive schildert. Die eigentliche Hauptfigur ist jedoch der abwesende Carlo, der „Buddha des Westens“. Enrico wie auch die anderen engeren Freunde und Familienmitglieder läßt die zeitlich so kurze Bekanntschaft mit Carlo und die von ihm auf Dauer ausgehende Herausforderung nie mehr aus dem Bann. Es „war etwas Einfaches und Endgültiges geschehen, war eine unwiderrufliche Aufforderung ergangen.“ Eine Aufforderung zur Eigentlichkeit des Lebens, wie man mit Heidegger sagen könnte, dessen Existenzphilosophie Michelstaedter nach der Auffassung von manchen vorweggenommen hat. Michelstaedter spricht nicht von Eigentlichkeit sondern von „Überzeugung“, die er in einem Kommentar zu Aristoteles „Rhetorik“ als Gegenbegriff, mehr noch als Gegenwelt zur „Rhetorik“ entwickelt. Magris erläutert:

„Die Überzeugung, sagt Carlo, ist der Besitz des eigenen Lebens und der eigenen Person in der Gegenwart, die Fähigkeit, ganz den Augenblick zu leben, ohne ihn einer Sache zu opfern, die noch kommen muß und von der man hofft, daß sie so schnell wie möglich eintritt, denn so wird das Leben mit der Erwartung zerstört, daß es so schnell wie möglich vorbeigehen möge. Doch Zivilisation ist die Geschichte von Menschen, die unfähig sind, überzeugt zu leben, die die kolossale Mauer der Rhetorik errichten, die soziale Organisation des Wissens und Handelns, um den Anblick und das Bewußtsein ihrer Leere vor sich selbst zu verbergen.“


Julius Evola und Carlo Michelstaedter

„Überzeugung und Rhetorik“ wurde bereits 1913 herausgegeben. Giovanni Papini und der Kreis der Triester Zeitschrift „La Voce“ gehören zu den ersten, die den Ruhm des früh verstorbenen Genies begründen und erweisen daß die „unwiderrufliche Aufforderung“ auch auf Menschen übergehen kann, die Michelstaedter nicht persönlich gekannt haben. So wird auch Julius Evola von ihm erfahren haben, er war jedoch auch mit einem Cousin Carlos bekannt und hatte dadurch Zugang zu nicht publizierten Informationen. In seinen „Saggi sull’ Idealismo magico“ hat er schließlich 1925 Carlo Michelstaedter als ersten von fünf in die Richtung des „magischen Idealismus“ führenden Persönlichkeiten gewürdigt, neben Otto Braun, Giovanni Gentile, Octave Hamelin und Hermann Keyserling.
Evola sieht den Weg zu dem „magischen Idealismus“, den er in seinen drei philosophischen Werken dargelegt hat, als logische Konsequenz in Michelstaedters philosophischem Hauptwerk bereits angelegt. Michelstaedters „Weg der Überzeugung“ reduziere die Möglichkeiten der menschlichen Existenz irrtümlich auf das Aufgehen in der (endlichen) Vielheit (der Ablenkung von der eigenen Leere, der Verfallenheit) und die – letztlich ebenfalls leere – absolute (unendliche) Reinheit der Negierung. Wie Evola betont, sind Endlichkeit und Unendlichkeit aber als zwei Weisen des Seins beide unabhängig von irgendeinem Objekt oder irgendeiner Aktion. Was Evola als Macht bezeichnet und schließlich später mit der Initiation und der Tradition zu verbinden versucht, ist das Sein oder das Handeln (diese Unterscheidung verschwindet in der reinen Aktion) ohne Begierde und ohne Gewalt. Das „absolute Individuum“ ist der Mensch als Macht – wie auch sein ebenfalls 1925 erschienenes Buch über den Tantrismus heißt – , als Einheit von Sein und Handeln, von Negation und Affirmation. Ob der Anspruch Evolas die innere Logik Michelstaedters zu Ende zu denken, zu Recht besteht, ist umstritten, denn Michelstaedters anspruchsvolles Hauptwerk wird durchaus unterschiedlich verstanden. Der von uns zitierte Claudio Magris präsentiert eine schophenhauer-buddhistische Variante der Auflösung des Willens im Augenblick der (selbst-)negierenden Präsenz. Evolas Verständnis des Buddhas des Ostens, wie er es in „La dottrina del Risveglio“ (1943) entwickelt hat, steht mit seiner Philosophie der Macht, des absoluten Individuums, im Einklang. Seine Begegnung mit dem „Buddha des Westens“ hat jedenfalls Evolas gesamte denkerisch-existenzielle Bahn geprägt. Diesen Einfluß hat Evola in der 1963 erschienen Quasi-Autobiographie „Il Cammino del Cinabro“ bekannt, auch die Wiederaufnahme des Michelstaedter-Abschnitts aus den „Saggi“ (die zu Lebzeiten Evolas keine Neuauflage erfahren durften) in das im Todesjahr erschienene Buch „Ricognizioni. Uomini e problemi“ spricht eine deutliche Sprache. Letztlich verhält es sich mit Michelstaedter wie mit jedem wirklichen Meister: er ist für den Schüler keine Kopiervorlage, sondern ein Spiegel mit dessen Hilfe er sein eigenes Selbst sehen kann.

Literaturangaben:
Julius Evola, Saggi sull’ idealismo magico, Opere di Julius Evola, Roma 2006.
Claudio Magris, Ein anderes Meer, München / Wien 1992.
Carlo Michelstaedter, Überzeugung und Rhetorik, Frankfurt am Main 1999.
Robert W. Th. Lamers, Richard von Schubert-Solderns Philosophie des erkenntnistheoretischen Solipsismus, Frankfurt am Main 1990.

mardi, 01 février 2011

The Eldritch Evola

The Eldritch Evola

James J. O'Meara

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

And thus, as a closer and still closer intimacy admitted me more unreservedly into the recesses of his spirit, the more bitterly did I perceive the futility of all attempt at cheering a mind from which darkness, as if an inherent positive quality, poured forth upon all objects of the moral and physical universe, in one unceasing radiation of gloom. — E. A. Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher”

Old Castro remembered bits of hideous legend that paled the speculations of theosophists and made man and the world seem recent and transient indeed. There had been aeons when other Things ruled on the earth, and They had had great cities. Remains of Them, he said the deathless Chinamen had told him, were still be found as Cyclopean stones on islands in the Pacific. They all died vast epochs of time before men came, but there were arts which could revive Them when the stars had come round again to the right positions in the cycle of eternity. — H. P. Lovecraft, “The Call of Cthulhu”

Of such great powers or beings there may be conceivably a survival . . . a survival of a hugely remote period when . . . consciousness was manifested, perhaps, in shapes and forms long since withdrawn before the tide of advancing humanity . . . forms of which poetry and legend alone have caught a flying memory and called them gods, monsters, mythical beings of all sorts and kinds . . . — Algernon Blackwood

A little while ago, I decided to use up more of my enforced leisure by reading Part Two of Baron Evola’s Revolt Against the Modern World, or at least the first few chapters, with an eye towards once and for all getting a straight picture of the various ‘ages’ and ‘races’ that constitute his take on Tradition, filtering Guénon’s model through the more historically oriented work of Wirth and Co. (See Evola’s “My Explorations of Origins and Tradition” in his The Path of Cinnabar.)

Damned if I didn’t start coming all over with fear and dread, and not just in my attic (if I had one), not unlike those that prevented me from reading completely through Guénon’s Reign of Quantity until several false starts over 25 years.

This time I decided to try and analyze what this dread consisted in, and I think I’ve got it:

By the time one reaches the farthest limits of recorded, or even archeologically validated history, the worst has already happened, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

And is this not indeed the theme of “horror” fiction?

Now, I’ve never paid attention to the occasional ‘smart’ comments about Traditionalism as reading like “science fiction,” based largely on supposed borrowing from Theosophy. In fact, I agree with this guy, who makes a modus tollens out of the mockers’ modus ponens:

What is one to do then with a writer of foresight, whose literacy and education remain indubitable, who nevertheless serves up his social and political analysis, however trenchant it is, in the context of an alternate history, the details of which resemble the background of story by Lord Dunsany or Clark Ashton Smith? I am strongly tempted to answer my own question in this way: That perhaps we should begin by reassessing Dunsany and Smith, especially Smith, whose tales of decadent remnant-societies — half-ruined, eroticized, brooding over a shored-up luxuriance, and succumbing to momentary appetite with fatalistic abandon — speak with powerful intuition to our actual circumstances. I do not mean to say, however, that Evola is only metaphorically true, as though his work, like Smith’s, were fiction. I mean that Evola is truly true, on the order of one of Plato’s “True Myths,” no matter how much his truth disconcerts us. — Thomas F. Bertonneau, “Against Nihilism: Julius Evola’s ‘Traditionalist’ Critique of Modernity

I’m ashamed to say I’ve never read more than one C. A. S. story, and that years ago in some Lovecraft Mythos anthology, but I’m more inclined anyway to take this back to the Master himself, Lovecraft. How much does Lovecraft resemble Evola, and moreover, is this superficial, or is there a reason?

The answer may lie here:

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.– H. P. Lovecraft, “Supernatural Horror in Literature”

In a 1927 letter to Weird Tales editor Farnsworth Wright, Lovecraft writes: “I consider the touch of cosmic outsideness–of dim, shadowy non-terrestrial hints–to be the characteristic feature of my writing.”

Theosophists have guessed at the awesome grandeur of the cosmic cycle wherein our world and human race form transient incidents. They have hinted at strange survivals in terms which would freeze the blood if not masked by a bland optimism. But it is not from them that there came the single glimpse of forbidden eons which chills me when I think of it and maddens me when I dream of it. — H. P. Lovecraft, “The Call of Cthulhu”

Lovecraft takes fear as his theme, and he knows that the greatest fear is inspired not by ghoulies and gore but by the dread of nameless eons. Nameless eons are the stock in trade of Traditionalist cyclical cosmology.

It’s no surprise that today’s Prince of Nihilism gets it:

The human race will disappear. Other races will appear and disappear in turn. The sky will become icy and void, pierced by the feeble light of half-dead stars. Which will also disappear. Everything will disappear. — Michel Houellebecq, H. P. Lovecraft: Against the World, Against Life (1999).

But surely Evola and Co. are not frivolous entertainers, but serious initiates. If Lovecraft seeks to inspire fear, does Evola, and if so, how is that connected to initiation?

We could try this: if Evola inspires new respect for the Lovecraftians, then what if we read Lovecraft as if he were Evola?

It was Alisdair Clarke who called my attention to Polaria: The Gift of the White Stone by W. H. Muller. I’ve never seen more than a couple other references to it (such as this amused and bemused review by one Julianus here) and copies of the barely 200 page paperback seem to have become quite rare, fetching over $200.00 on Amazon.

Muller takes off, with all apparent sincerity, from the preposterous thesis that H. P. Lovecraft “was a Practicing Occultist and that the Lovecraft Circle was a group of High Adepts,” despite overwhelming evidence, found in literally dozens of volumes of letters and innumerable personal reminiscences, to say nothing of S. T. Joshi’s many works, of being a cast-iron materialist of the village atheist ilk. As Julianus says:

The book itself is a Vast Muddle of Mystical Verbiage that draws on Sufism, Theosophy, Rene Guenon, Robert Graves, and others to create a bizarre Syncretic Symbolism from “Phonetic Encodings” in Lovecraft’s work. The Linguistic Fog is comparable only to the work of Kenneth Grant, and it is truly strange that Herr Muller nowhere acknowledges his debt to the Typhonian Titan.

Actually, in its preposterous thesis defended with po-faced sincerity by means of vast scholarship and word and letter mumbo-jumbo, as well as its overall atmosphere of occult doom, I was more put in mind of such works of Ariosophic fascism as Jorg Lanz von Liebenfels’ Theozoology.

Never the less, there are some good bits, relevant to our theme; if Lovecraft‘s tales can be given an initiatic spin, then the connection with Evola becomes clearer:

Lovecraft cloaked his profound esoteric insight in an imagery of horror. . . . Thus it was given a subtle but clear initiatory nature. Many feel attracted by Lovecraft’s forceful imagery, but only a very few know the reason. Only those with a preparedness and already drawn toward the Threshold would be ready to delve into Lovecraft’s work and recover from its depths the eonian Polar message.

Remember, “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear.”

For Fear read “initiation via experiencing the death of the ego and its world.”

Both ego-less animal existence and man’s ego, which is but matrical sensory cognition, originate in the same Matrix of Dream. This must be transcended. It is Polar insight, the inward-looking way that leads out of this cyclic Matrix. However, the man’s ego, being the man-god, fears mystical dissolution, because it fears its “death”. Only if “death” is realized as illusion by experiencing it mystically in life, [perhaps by reading some 'weird tales'] can essencification and spiritual unity be achieved. The ego fears “death” because it does not know that there is none. ‘Fear’ is the sword the ego wields, yet its iron melts away in the black heat of Wisdom.

In Lovecraft’s stories the elements of decay and death prevail. These are the emotional patterns of one approaching the seventh plane of the Threshold. The transformative Way across the Bridge of Fog, from animal-man to god-man, is painful. Everyone claiming the contrary, is speaking with a Minotaurian voice. [Man-animals? Ruh-roh, here comes that Theozoology again!]

The Way leads through the Tomb of the Individual toward the Emergence of the Entity. The same is applicable to humanity. Saturn is throwing its charnel light toward this planet. But the Pilgrim must know that Saturn is but the Threshold, not the Destination. — W. H. Muller, Polaria, p.113

“The Minotaurian voice that Muller refers to is the voice that asserts the supremacy of the ego. It is the animal-man trapped in the labyrinth of ordinary, uninspired consciousness.” — A. Clarke, “Ego Death, Destiny and Serpents in Germanic Mythology

Both Evola and Lovecraft also drew the same or similar immediate political conclusions, both under the influence of cycles, those of Guénon and Spengler, respectively:

Lovecraft saw cultural decline as a slow process that spans 500 to 1000 years. He sought a system that could overcome the cyclical laws of decay, which was also the motivation of Fascism. Lovecraft believed it was possible to re-establish a new “equilibrium” over the course of 50 to 100 years, stating: “There is no need of worrying about civilization so long as the language and the general art tradition survives.” — Kerry Bolton, “Lovecraft’s Fascism

(For the Fascist theme of regeneration or palingenesis, see Roger Griffin’s Modernism and Fascism, reviewed here by Alisdair Clarke.)

Continuing that somewhat optimistic note, perhaps even ego death may not be so bad; In “Calling Cthulhu,” Erik Davis described the then-nascent cult of pop-Cthulhu, and noted that Lovecraft’s “dread” and “horror” seemed to belong to a 19th century materialist confronting vast new vistas opened up by science, not unlike those opened by drugs; as he describes it in a more recent article on Cthulu porn:

In this tangy bon-bon of nihilistic materialism, Lovecraft anticipates a peculiarly modern experience of dread, one conjured not by irrational fears of the dark but rather by the speculative realism of reason itself, staring into the cosmic void. . . . This terror before the empty and ultimately unknowable universe of scientific materialism is what gives the cosmic edge to the cosmic horror that Lovecraft, more than any other writer, injected into the modern imagination (though props must be given up as well to Arthur Machen, William Hope Hodgson, and, in the closing chapters of The Time Machine at least, H. G. Wells). While many secular people proclaim an almost childlike wonder at the mind-melting prospect of the incomprehensibly vast universe sketched out by astrophysics and bodied forth by doctored Hubble shots, Lovecraft would say that we have not really swallowed the implication of this inhuman immensity—that we have not, in other words, correlated our contents. — Erik Davis, “Cthulhu is not cute!”

By contrast, we in the 20th (now 21st) century have actually come to welcome such derangement of the senses, like teenagers love glue huffing.

This seems discount the value of the fear and terror aspect itself, but it’s more soundly based on the real Lovecraft, cowering in his attic, than the “alchemical master” postulated by Muller.

But maybe the kids do have something to teach us:

For those who need a quick refresher:

Editor’s Note: For more imaginative Lovecraft tributes and parodies, see Under Vhoorl’s Shadow: http://www.3×6.net/vhoorl/

jeudi, 13 janvier 2011

Evola on the Egyptian & Tibetan Books of the Dead

Evola on the Egyptian & Tibetan Books of the Dead

Translation anonymous, revised by Greg Johnson

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

Boris De Rachewiltz
Il libro dei Morti degli antichi Egiziani
Milan: All’Insegna del Pesce d’Oro, 1958

egyptelm.jpgThis publication fills a gap long felt by the many students of the history of religions, since previous editions of the Book of the Dead, this most important document of ancient Egypt, have long been unavailable. The works of Lepsius (1842), Naville (1886), Pierret (1882), Sir Peter Le Page Renouf (1904), and Schiaparelli (1881–1890) can only be found in libraries. The only edition reprinted has been the 1953 edition by E. A. Wallis Budge with facsimiles of the papyri.

Mention should also be made of the G. Kolpaktchy edition published in French and Italian. But it is of little use from the scientific point of view, for the author, animated by the praiseworthy desire to give the inner esoteric sense of many passages of the text has too often been carried away by his imagination, or, worse still, allowed himself to be influenced by dubious ideas taken from modern Theosophy.

The edition and translation by De Rachewiltz—handsomely printed—is based on the Turin papyrus, photographic reproductions of which face the pages of the translation so that any who wish may compare the two. The text is of the Saite Book of the Dead, which is more recent than the Theban version. It was studied and reproduced only by Lepsius, and it is more complete than the Theban version, as it represents the final stage of its development in which the basic themes have been preserved apart from several re-elaborations and additions.

The translation is such that it can serve the purposes of both the specialist and the cultured reader interested in the documents of traditional spirituality. For such readers a little glossary has been added to the translation, which explains the leading themes of the Egyptian mythical-religious world that recur in the text. The translation adheres in the main to the literal meaning of the text, but it does so generally in a way that does not hinder a symbolic or esoteric interpretation, which texts of this kind always allow.

It would be interesting—and would come within the scope of this Review—to draw a comparison between the Egyptian Book of the Dead and the Tibetan, Bardo Thödol, first made known by Evans Wenz and later by Professor Tucci, who used more complete text. The idea common to both is that after death the soul still has the ability to take actions on which its fate will depend. It can, in a certain way, overcome destiny, modifying the course it would otherwise follow. To express it in oriental terms, it may be said that it has the power of suspending the effects of the karma.

 

It should however be noted that this does not refer to just any kind of soul. The Tibetan text shows that the soul is always that of a person who had already travelled part of the way to liberation during his life.

In the case of the Egyptian text, De Rachewiltz points out that it became the Book of the Dead in general only through a process of “democratization,” for in the ancient Empire it had been reserved exclusively to members of the Royal House and of the high priesthood. Indeed, originally the so-called “Osirification” was reserved for them only, and only to them was attributed the ka, the “double,” destined to make way for the sahu, the immortal body that “stands up,” that “does not fall.”

The real title of the Egyptian text is The Book to Lead out to the Day. The real meaning of this expression, imperfectly understood by several translators, alludes to the supreme purpose: to go out into the day means to go out into the immortal light, the invisible light of Amenti. In the Tibetan ritual, as is known, the meeting with absolute light is the first experience and the first test the soul of the dead encounters. An essential part of the Egyptian ritual is overcoming “the second death,” that is to say the disintegration of the spiritual and psychic nucleus detached from the body by the first death (the death of the physical organism). In this connection the motive of an existential danger, of a fundamental risk encountered in the beyond, often acquires highly dramatic features in the Egyptian text. At the same time, the Egyptian text attributes more importance to behavior of a magic and determinative character than does the Tibetan, which accentuates rather the importance and power of knowledge.

tibetlm.jpgNevertheless, there are many parallel points between the two texts dealing with the liberating identifications. Just as in the Tibetan ritual the destruction of the appearance of distinct entities, which all things perceived in the experiences of the other world may acquire, is indicated as a means of liberation, so in the Egyptian text formulae are repeated by means of which the soul of the dead affirms and realizes its identity with the divine figures.

In addition to these, there are the formulas for “transformation.” The soul acquires the capacity of making itself manifest in the form of one or other of the cosmic powers, which in the text are made to correspond mostly to the symbolic theriomorphic figures. It is only through a misinterpretation of these references that some have been led to suppose that the doctrine of reincarnation was part of the ancient esoteric teachings of the Egyptians.

Unfortunately, the Egyptian text as it has come down to us is not systematic in character. The formulas are often presented miscellaneously. Apart from spurious features of a folkloric character, the positions taken fluctuate frequently. There are spiritual ups and downs, inner shortcomings, invocations of a religious and mystical nature.

Yet spite of all this, the prevailing character of the most ancient, clear, and essential portions of the text is most certainly inspired by magic. The soul humbles itself so little in the presence of the ultramundane divinities that it sometimes threatens them with destruction. This is the case even with Osiris and Ra, with reference to the principle of a kind of “transcendent virility.” The soul even asserts a substantial metaphysical connection between itself and the divine essences, sometimes even declaring that its salvation is also theirs. The “opening of the mouth,” by which is meant the reacquisition of the magic power of the word, which can render the formulas efficient and irresistible, “breathing the breath of life,” thus becoming a Living Being, having power over the Waters, taking a Name which does not die, these are the most luminous themes in the vicissitudes of the other world.

The Egyptian text was recited at funerals, as the Tibetan Bardo Thödol was read to the dying and even after their death. In either case the purpose was to help the soul not to forget, to stand up and remain active. De Rachewiltz, moreover, rightly calls attention to the fact that several passages suggest that the Egyptian formulas were used also during life and were held to be useful to the living, so one may recognize in the text the character of a magic ritual in the proper meaning of the words. This may indeed apply not only to some special formulas but to the text as a whole if it be referred to the rites of initiation, for it was unanimously believed in the ancient world that the experiences of initiation corresponded to those of life beyond the grave and that therefore the proceedings required in either case to overcome the “second death” and reach “Osirification” were the same.

In calling attention to this new publication, we would again point out that it makes an important contribution also to those who wish to make a comparative study of Oriental and Western traditions which, in a certain sense, find a connecting link in the traditions of ancient Egypt.

East and West, vol. 10, nos. 1 and 2 (March–June 1959): 126–27.

samedi, 18 décembre 2010

Rob Riemens Kampf gegen Geert Wilders

Rob Riemens Kampf gegen Geert Wilders

Wie der holländische Geistesaristokrat Rob Riemen gegen den Rechtspopulisten Geert Wilders und das Böse kämpft.
Rob%20Riemen.jpgDie moderne Kultur, so klagte einst der italienische Philosoph Julius Evola, beschränke sich nicht darauf, „die aktivistische Orientierung des Lebens abzuspiegeln“. Sie peitsche den menschlichen Aktivismus sogar noch auf, weil sie in ihm etwas sehe, „was sein soll, weil es gut ist, so zu sein“. Und er stellte fest, man sei heute an einem Punkt angelangt, „wo für diejenigen, die noch nicht ganz jene antiken Überlieferungen vergessen haben, auf denen unser wahrer Geistesadel beruhte, sich eine genaue Rechenschaftsablegung über die Lage unter Beziehung eines überlegenen Gesichtspunktes gebieterisch aufdrängt. Unsere ,moderne’ Welt erkennt nur mehr die zeitverhaftete Wirklichkeit an.

Jede transzendente Schau gilt ihr als ,überwunden’.“

So stand es 1933 in dem nationalkonservativen Hamburger Organ „Deutsches Volkstum“, das zuletzt als „Halbmonatsschrift für das Deutsche Geistesleben“ firmierte. Zwei Jahre später erkundete Evola (1898 – 1974) in seinem Hauptwerk „Revolte gegen die moderne Welt“ schon den Begriff des kriegerischen Adels. 1941 verkündete der abtrünnige Katholik „Die arische Lehre von Kampf und Sieg“ und setzte 1943 in „Grundrisse der faschistischen Rassenlehre“ Geistesadel und rassische Identität vollends in eins. Für den Mussolini-Freund war dies eher ein ins Sakrale gewendeter Archaismus als Hitlerei, dessen gedankliche Dürftigkeit er, der sich in besseren Traditionen des deutschen Kulturpessimismus zu Hause wähnte, distanziert gegenüber stand. Aber Heinrich Himmler, Reichsführer der SS, verschlang Evolas esoterische Wirrnisse; sie waren mit den Verbrechen der Nazis zumindest kompatibel.

Um „Adel des Geistes“, wie es Rob Riemen, der Gründer des Tilburger Thinktanks Nexus, im Untertitel seines gleichnamigen Traktates tut, „ein vergessenes Ideal“ zu nennen, braucht es also schon eine gehörige Portion Geschichtsvergessenheit, Selbstbewusstsein oder Naivität. Vielleicht aber auch alles drei – und einen mächtigen Dekontaminator. In Riemens Fall übernimmt Thomas Mann die Rolle des Kammerjägers, ein Schriftsteller, den er so sehr bewundert, dass er von ihm gleich den Titel seines ganzen Buches übernimmt. „Adel des Geistes“ hießen auch die „Sechzehn Versuche zum Problem der Humanität“, mit denen Mann 1945 in Aufsätzen zu Goethe, Kleist, Wagner und Tolstoi einen Humanismus zu rehabilitieren versuchte, den Krieg und Nationalsozialismus ruiniert hatten.

Riemens Ehrgeiz ist dabei ebenso überhistorisch wie aktuell. Sein Traum von einem neuen, aus der Kontemplation wachsenden Geistesadel richtet sich gegen die Vergötzung animalischer Ideale, wie er sie in der heutigen Gesellschaft verkörpert sieht. „Alles ist erlaubt. Sinn ist etwas Unbekanntes; an seine Stelle tritt der Zweck. ,Spaß’ und ,Genuss’ ersetzen das Bewusstsein für Gut und Böse. Da das Bleibende nicht existiert, muss alles sofort passieren, neu und schnell sein.“ Für ihn gibt es keinen Zweifel: „Es ist dieser Nihilismus der Massengesellschaft, der die Kultur, das Bindegewebe der Gesellschaft, wie Krebs angreift und zerstört.“ Und so kämpft er, zum Teil mit Formulierungen, die geradewegs von Julius Evola stammen könnten, gegen den „Totalitarismus der Taliban“ und jedes Verständnis für die „gewalttätige mittelalterliche Theokratie“, die ihn hervorgebracht hat. Im Unterschied zu Evola jedoch verfolgt er einen strikt antifaschistischen Kurs.

In dem soeben erschienenen Essay „Die ewige Wiederkehr des Faschismus“ („De eeuwige terugkeer van het fascisme“, Uitgeverij Atlas) attackiert er den holländischen Rechtspopulisten Geert Wilders und dessen Freiheitspartei, mehr noch aber die Umstände, die die Wahlerfolge des Islamkritikers möglich gemacht haben. Er lamentiert über bürgerliche Parteien, die ihre Ideen verleugnen, über Intellektuelle, die sich dem Nihilismus hingeben, über Universitäten, die in ihrem Bildungsauftrag versagen, über die Gier der Wirtschaft und die Willfährigkeit der Medien. Kurz: das geistige Vakuum, in dem Faschismus gedeihen kann. Ein Wort, das für Wilders zu hoch gegriffen sein mag, gemessen an Riemens übrigen hochtönenden Entwürfen aber seinen Sinn hat.

Nichts von den Diagnosen, die er in „Adel des Geistes“ stellt, ist per se falsch – und trotzdem stimmt etwas Grundsätzliches mit ihnen nicht. Denn wenn die Rettung unseres Zeitalters in der Besinnung auf die Werte der Alten liegt, wie konnte Evola ihnen dann einen so offenkundig antihumanistischen Auftrag abgewinnen? Warum klingt, was Riemen zu sagen hat, so fatal nach zahnlos bundespräsidialen Sonntagspredigten und vatikanischem Geschwätz?

Rob Riemen, 1962 geboren, und damit ein Jahr älter als Geert Wilders, ist eine weltläufige Erscheinung. Sein 1994 drei Jahre nach dem „Nexus Journal“ gegründetes Amsterdamer Nexus Institut bringt, wie er erklärt, „führende Intellektuelle, Künstler, Diplomaten und andere Entscheidungsträger zusammen und lässt sie über die Fragen nachdenken und sprechen, die wirklich von Bedeutung sind. Wie sollen wir leben? Wie können wir unsere Zukunft gestalten? Können wir aus der Vergangenheit lernen? Welche Werte und Ideen sind wichtig?“

Die Abgründe, die Riemens dem Individuum und dem Gewissen verpflichteten Denken von Evolas heidnischem Kraut-und-Rüben-Gebräu trennen, sind schnell benannt. Der Gral, den Julius Evola 1934 in „Das Mysterium des Grals“ beschwor, ist ein anderer als derjenige, den Thomas Mann 1924 im „Zauberberg“ suchte und von dem Riemen schreibt, es sei „nicht der Kelch von Jesu Letztem Abendmahl, sondern ein Geheimnis, ein Rätsel. Es ist das ewige Geheimnis, das der Mensch für sich selbst ist, es sind die unbeantwortbaren Fragen des menschlichen Seins. Nur dann, wenn der Mensch diese ewigen Fragen seiner Existenz respektiert, bleibt er empfänglich für die lebensgebenden Werte und für die Bedeutungen, ohne die es keine menschliche Würde geben kann.“

Und doch gibt es zwischen Riemens aufklärerischem und Evolas antiaufklärerischem Denken, das unter Neonazis und Darkwave-Jüngern höchste Popularität genießt, Verbindendes, einen Ekel wider alles Massenkulturelle, der Evola in den sechziger Jahren zu einem einflussreichen Pasolini von rechts machte – und Riemen heute zum Zeremonienmeister einer hochkulturellen Selbstberuhigung. Er hat das Eremitische des Stefan-Georgelnden Männerbundes Castrum Peregrini in der Amsterdamer Herengracht öffentlichkeitswirksam beerbt.

Erst vor drei Wochen veranstaltete der studierte Theologe an der Tilburger Universität eine Konferenz über die Gespenster von Nationalismus, Antisemitismus und Populismus. Mario Vargas Llosa hielt die Eröffnungsrede. Im Juni mietete er das Amsterdamer Concertgebouw, um über „What is Next for the West? Superman meets Beethoven“ zu debattieren. Diesmal referierte sein Lehrmeister, der Universalgelehrte George Steiner, der der amerikanischen Originalausgabe von „Nobility Of Spirit“ ein Vorwort beisteuerte, das in der deutschen Ausgabe erstaunlicherweise fehlt. Und im vergangenen Februar lud er Daniel Barenboim ein, um über „Die Ethik der Ästhetik“ zu sprechen.

Unter Namen von Weltrang macht es Riemen nicht mehr. Darin liegt auch sein Talent als Fundraiser. Es gibt, wie die Liste der Sprecher und Autoren auf www.nexus-instituut.nl zeigt, wenig bedeutende Denker, die in den letzten Jahren nicht die Wege von Nexus gekreuzt hätten, insofern sie nicht unter Riemens Nihilismus-Verdikt fallen. Denn er sucht nach einem Geist, der in der Lage ist, die dunklen Triebkräfte der Gesellschaft zu zähmen, einer Bildung, die sie vor der Barbarei bewahrt, und einer Elite, die das als Entität imaginierte Böse in Schach hält. Es ist die Idee, politiklos Politik machen zu können.

Die Vorstellung, am künstlerischen Wesen könne die Welt genesen, hat am virtuosesten Friedrich Schiller in seinen „Briefen über die ästhetische Erziehung des Menschen“ formuliert. „Alle Verbesserung im Politischen soll von Veredlung des Charakters ausgehen“, heißt es mit Blick auf die Französische Revolution, „aber wie kann sich unter den Einflüssen einer barbarischen Staatsverfassung der Charakter veredeln? Man müsste also zu diesem Zwecke ein Werkzeug aufsuchen, welches der Staat nicht hergibt, und Quellen dazu eröffnen, die sich bei aller politischen Verderbnis rein und lauter erhalten.“ Und weiter: „Den Stoff zwar wird er von der Gegenwart nehmen, aber die Form von einer edleren Zeit, ja, jenseits aller Zeit, von der absoluten, unwandelbaren Einheit seines Wesens entlehnen.“

Der Mensch, sagt Rob Riemen mit Gracián, „ist ein Barbar, wenn er nicht über das einzige Wissen verfügt, das für seine Würde zählt: dass er sich in den Tugenden und geistigen Werten üben muss, die ein harmonisches Miteinander des Menschen ermöglichen.“

Es geht um „Erhebung aus dem, was der Mensch auch ist: eine blinde Kraft.“ Und er folgert: „Adel des Geistes ist das zeitlose Kulturideal.“ Das wiederum ist George Steiner, weichgespült – weil ohne das dialektische Bewusstsein, mit dem Steiner daran erinnert, dass „die Barbarei des 20. Jahrhunderts im Kernland der europäischen Kultur ausgebrochen“ sei. „Die Todeslager wurden nicht in der Wüste Gobi noch in Äquatorialafrika errichtet.“

Solange Riemen Geistesaristokratie nicht in einen sozialen Kontext stellt und dabei sicher auch Unverträglichkeiten entdeckt, solange führt das Ideal des großen Einzelnen nur zu einer überholten Idee von Märtyrertum. Es ist absurd, in Leone Ginzburg, dem Mitbegründer des Turiner Einaudi Verlags und Ehemann von Natalia Ginzburg, der 1944 im römischen Gefängnis Regina Coeli zu Tode gefoltert wurde, nur den sokratisch Wahrheitsliebenden zu sehen und nicht auch den liberalen Sozialisten, der mit dem Partito d’Azione eine Vorstellung davon hatte, wie Italien auszusehen hätte. Im Namen metaphysischer, von keinem postmodernen Zweifel angekränkelter Überzeugungen ignoriert Riemen das Wechselverhältnis von individueller Moral und Politik, immer auf dem Sprung heraus aus seiner Zeit, hin zu ewigen Werten, zur Natur der Dinge und zum Wesen des Menschen. Als wäre es nicht unsere vornehmste Aufgabe, gegen die Erfahrung, dass alles vermeintlich Unwandelbare eben doch auch ganz anders sein könnte, etwas Humanes zu definieren.

 

 

vendredi, 17 décembre 2010

Cavalcare la crisi

Cavalcare la crisi

di Stefano Zecchi - Marco Iacona

Fonte: scandalizzareeundiritto

p138.jpg-Evola ha costruito gran parte delle sue riflessioni attorno al concetto di crisi. Lei crede che ciò lo allontani da una cultura italiana che nella sua generalità, nel XX secolo, non ha partorito grandi opere su questo tema? 

«Il tema della crisi è un argomento che ha impegnato buona parte della cultura europea e in questo senso Evola si pone come serio interlocutore. In Italia però, nonostante sia ben conosciuta, la cultura della crisi non viene tematizzata perché domina l’idealismo, quello crociano e quello gentiliano. Si pensi al disconoscimento da parte di Croce del valore di un libro famosissimo come Der Untergang des Abendlandes oppure alle ricerche e alle conferenze in tema di crisi di Husserl o alle tematiche heideggeriane. Ecco, alla sua domanda risponderei di sì, Evola si pone al di fuori della cultura filosofica dominante. Certo poi gioca a suo sfavore la collocazione politica che aumenta il distacco della sua ricerca filosofica dalla restante parte della cultura italiana».               

-Perché ha scritto il saggio introduttivo alla V edizione di Cavalcare la tigre (Stefano Zecchi, Evola, o una filosofia della responsabilità contro il nichilismo, Mediterranee 1995)?

«Fu Gianfranco de Turris ad offrirmi quest’opportunità ed io accetti volentieri. Penso che Cavalcare la tigre sia un testo importante. Evola mostra i limiti della modernità nel momento in cui è trionfante e nel momento in cui esprimersi contro di essa era né più e né meno che un’eresia. Il libro s’incrociava anche con i miei studi, nonostante le tematiche svolte fossero assai diverse. La conoscenza di Cavalcare la tigre era fondamentale perché fondamentale era per me la proposta di un angolo di visuale sul tema della modernità e sul concetto di crisi».

 -Cavalcare la tigre esce agli inizi degli anni Sessanta. Qual è il clima culturale italiano di quel periodo?

«È il clima più ostile possibile nei confronti di una critica alla modernità! La cultura di destra era sotterranea quindi non aveva voce all’interno del dibattito culturale; la cultura laico-liberale e quella comunista si sviluppavano invece su prospettive totalmente diverse da una critica all’idea di modernità. Ma non era solo Evola ad essere bistrattato, si pensi a come erano stati trattati Heidegger e Husserl, cioè gli esponenti di una filosofia che usciva fuori da prospettive diciamo così à la page. Di più, in Italia si stava  instaurando, costruita con grande meticolosità, l’egemonia culturale della sinistra, quindi Evola come altri grandi pensatori europei era posto ai margini del dibattito culturale».       

-Cosa pensa dell’interesse in negativo di Evola per gli esistenzialisti?

«Credo che Evola per certi aspetti abbia visto giusto. La critica evoliana agli esistenzialisti per qualche verso mi sembra analoga alla critica fatta da Henry Miller ai surrealisti. Miller scrisse la Lettera aperta ai surrealisti (che si trova nel volume Max e i fagociti bianchi) accusandoli di intellettualismo e di incapacità di toccare a fondo i temi che essi stessi avevano sollevato. Evola mi dà l’idea di sviluppare una critica, diciamo così, metodologicamente analoga a quella di Miller perché mette in evidenza la mistificazione e le ambiguità di un pensiero esistenziale che in realtà non arriva a porre i veri temi dell’esistenza. Un pensiero che resta come una forma superficiale di interrogazione dell’essere umano».

-Lei scrive che Cavalcare la tigre «può essere letto come un manuale di sopravvivenza» «da chi crede che la società moderna porti al disastro personale e sociale, culturale e politico». Ma in quanto strumento di “salvezza” secondo lei Cavalcare la tigre è davvero efficace?

«Paradossalmente le tematiche evoliane, o comunque se non Evola il clima culturale a cui Evola appartiene sono ben più attuali oggi. Con la perdita dell’enfasi sull’idea di sviluppo e di progresso c’è maggior attenzione ai temi della crisi, e quindi i punti che Evola ha toccato sono di maggiore attualità. Ecco, le critiche di Evola (come alcune cose dette da Heidegger e da Husserl) proprio per questa perdita del valore teoretico ed etico del progresso oggi ritornano. Devo dire però che Cavalcare la tigre ci anche ha dato una mano ad attraversare un deserto: così siamo arrivati all’oggi potendo dire che per fortuna i tempi sono molto diversi».

-Lei mostra qualche affinità col pensiero di Evola...

«Io non sono un “evoliano”, il mio pensiero si sviluppa in modo diverso, sebbene, come dicevo, alcuni aspetti della critica della modernità ritornino nei miei libri. Ricordo ad esempio che quando scrissi un libro come La Bellezza (1990) soltanto il termine “bellezza” venne considerato offensivo nei riguardi della modernità».

-Parafrasando il titolo di un suo libro degli anni Novanta (Stefano Zecchi, Sillabario del nuovo millennio, Mondadori 1993), secondo lei Evola potrebbe essere un pensatore capace di decrittare il nuovo millennio?

«Sicuramente sì. Evola è uno dei grandi pensatori del nostro secolo collocabile, come ho detto più volte, all’interno del filone della crisi. Piuttosto, ripeto, su di lui ha giocato negativamente l’esperienza politica e il fatto che la cultura egemone fosse legata al dibattito politico italiano. Penso che Evola paghi un prezzo che col passare del tempo sarà sempre meno salato».

-Un’ultima domanda. Lei ha scritto di televisione e conosce i mezzi di comunicazione. Potremmo fare un parallelo fra Evola e Pasolini dicendo che si tratta di due autori che si sono opposti al potere trionfante dei moderni mezzi di comunicazione?

«Beh, in Evola c’è anche una sorta di filo moralistico, secondo il quale qualunque fenomeno moderno conduce alla massificazione. In Pasolini invece, a parte il tema moralistico, c’e un’accettazione e perfino un utilizzo dei mezzi di comunicazione di massa. Pasolini è più disponibile perché la sua è una critica ad una modernità dimentica degli aspetti originari dell’esistenza, della dimensione rurale e di quella operaia. Pasolini usa cinema, televisione e giornali ed esercita sul campo le sue critiche. Ritengo invece che Evola non avrebbe mai voluto sporcarsi gli abiti inserendosi fra i protagonisti dei più moderni mezzi di comunicazione».

 

 

 

 

 


Tante altre notizie su www.ariannaeditrice.it

mardi, 30 novembre 2010

Evola on Zen & Everyday Life

Evola on Zen & Everyday Life

Translation anonymous, revised by Greg Johnson

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

Eugen Herrigel
Zen in the Art of Archery
New York: Vintage, 1999
[Zen nell’arte del tirar d’arco (Turin: Rigois, 1956)]

Kakuzo Okakura
The Book of Tea
Stone Bridge Press, 2007
[II Libro del Te (Rome: Fratelli Bocca, 1955)]

Zen_P.jpgThe first of these little books, translated into Italian from German, is unique of its kind, as a direct and universally accessible introduction to the spirit the fundamental disciplines and behavior of the civilization of the Far East, especially Japan. Herrigel is a German professor who was invited to teach philosophy in a Japanese University, and decided to study the traditional spirit of the country in its most typical living forms. He took a special interest in acquiring an understanding of Zen Buddhism, and strange as it may seem, he was told that the best way to do so was to study the traditional practice of Archery. Herrigel therefore untiringly studied that art for no less than five years, and the book describes how his progress therein and his gradual penetration into the essence of Zen proceeded side by side with archery, conditioning one another reciprocally, leading to a deep inner transformation of the author himself.

The essence of Zen as a conception of the world is, as is known, its special interpretation of the state of nirvana which, partly through the influence of Taoism, is understood in Japan not as a state of evanescent ascetic beatitude, but as something indwelling, an inner liberation, a state free from the fevers, the ordeals, the bonds of the ego, a state which may be preserved while engaged in all the activities and in all the forms of everyday life itself. Thanks to it, life as a whole acquires a different dimension; it is understood and lived in a different way. The “absence of the ego” upon which, in conformity with the spirit of Buddhism, Zen insists so strongly, is not however akin to apathy or atony; it gives rise to a higher form of spontaneous action, of assurance, of freedom and serenity in action. This may be compared to a man who holds on convulsively to something and who, when he lets it go, acquires a higher serenity, a superior sense of freedom and assurance.

After calling attention to all these points, the author notes the existence in the Far East of traditional arts that both arise from this freedom of Zen and offer the means for attaining it through the training required to practice them. Strange as it may seem, the Zen spirit dwells in the Far Eastern Arts taught by the Masters of painting, serving tea, arranging flowers, archery, wrestling, fencing, and so forth. All these arts have a ritual aspect. There are, moreover, ineffable aspects thanks to which true mastery in any of these arts cannot be attained unless one has acquired inner enlightenment and transformation of ordinary self-consciousness, which makes mastery a kind of tangible sacrament.

Thus Herrigel tells us how in learning to draw the long bow, little by little, through the problems involved in this art as it is still taught in Japan, he came to the knowledge and the inner understanding that be sought. He realized that archery was not a sport but rather a kind of ritual action and initiation. To acquire a thorough knowledge of it one had to arrive at the elimination of one’s ego, overcome all tension, and achieve a superior spontaneity. Only then was muscular relaxation paradoxically joined to maximum strength; the archer, the bow, and the target became one whole. The arrow flew as if of its own accord and found its target almost without being aimed. Stated in these terms, the mastery attained is a degree of spirituality, or “Zen,” not as theory and philosophy but as actual experience, as a deeper mode of being.

By describing situations of this kind, based on personal experience, Herrigel’s little book is important not only because it introduces the reader to the spirit of an exotic civilization, but also because it enables us to view in a new light some of our own ancient traditions. We know that in antiquity, and to some extent in the Middle Ages also, jealously guarded traditions, elements of religion, rites, and even mysteries were associated with the various arts. There were “goods” for each of these arts and rites of admission to practice them. The initiation to crafts and professions in certain guilds and “collegia” proceeded along parallel lines with spiritual initiation. Thus, to mention a later case, the symbolism proper to the mason’s art of the medieval builders served as the basis for the first Freemasonry, which drew from it the allegories for the proceedings of the “Great Work.” It may therefore be that in all this the West once knew something of what has been preserved to this day in the Far East in such teachings as “the way of the bow” or “the art of the sword,” held to be identical with the “way of Zen” in a singularly positive form of Buddhism.

The Author of the second little book, to the Italian edition of which we now turn, is a Japanese interested above all in aesthetic problems, who has studied the modern schools of art in Europe and America but has remained faithful to his own traditions and has engaged in a resolute and efficient action in his own country against the introduction of Europeanizing tendencies. His Il Libro del Te confirms in the central part devoted more closely to the subject under consideration, what we have just been saying.

There have been close connections in the Far East between Zen, the “tea schools” and the “tea cult” (the term used by the author to designate this is “teaism,” an infelicitous word given that “theism” indicates in our countries every religion based on the notion of a personal God). Indeed it is claimed that the tea ceremonial as elaborated in Japan in the 16th century was derived from the much more ancient Zen rite of drinking tea from one single cup before the statue of Bodhidharma. Generally speaking this ceremonial rite is one of the many forms in which the Taoist principle of “completeness in the fragment” is expressed. Lu-wu in his book Cha-ching had already asserted that in preparing the tea the same order and the same harmony must he observed that from the Taoist standpoint reigns in all things.

The author adds that it is part of the religion of the art of life. “The tea became a pretext for the enjoyment of moments of meditation and happy detachment in which the host and his guests took part.” Both the site and structure of the rooms built for this special purpose—the tea-rooms (sukiya)—follow the ritualistic principle; they are symbolic. The variegated and partly irregular path that, within the framework of the Ear Eastern art of gardening, leads to the tea-room is emblematic of that preliminary state of meditation that leads to breaking all ties to the outer world, to detachment from the worries and interests of ordinary life.

The style of the room itself is of refined simplicity. In spite of the bare and poverty-stricken appearance it may offer to Western eyes, it follows in every detail a precise intention. The selection and the use of the right materials call for infinite care and attention to detail, so much so that the cost of a perfect tea room may be greater than a whole casement. The term “sukiya”—the author says—originally meant “the house of imagination,” the allusion being not to wandering fancies but to the faculty of detaching oneself from the empirical world, of recollecting oneself and taking refuge in an ideal world.

Other expressions used by the Masters of Tea rite are “the house of emptiness” and “the house of asymmetry.” The first of these expressions traces back directly to the notion of the Void proper to Taoist metaphysics (and here we may recall also the part played by this notion, almost as a key or background in the “aerial” element of Far Eastern painting). The expression “house of asymmetry” refers to the fact that some detail is always intentionally left unfinished and care is taken to arrange things to give the impression of a lacuna. The reason for this is that the sense of completeness and harmony must not arise from something already fixed and repeatable, but must be suggested by an exterior incompleteness which impels one to conceive them inwardly by means of a mental act.

The author deals also of the connections existing between the art of tea and that of selecting and arranging the flowers in the sukiya, here again in conformity with symbolism and a special sensibility. Often one single flower rightly selected and placed is the only ornament of the “house of emptiness.”

Lastly the author reminds us that a special philosophy of daily life is accessory to the tea ritual, so much so that in current Japanese parlance a man lacking in sensibility to the tragi-comical sides of personal life is said to be “lacking in tea,” while those who give way to uncontrolled impulses and feelings are said to have “too much tea.” This brings one back to that ideal of balanced, subtle, and calm superiority, which plays so large apart in the general attitude of the man of the Far East.

If we think of the wide use made of tea in the West, and of the circumstances of this use in our social life, more especially among fashionable circles, it would be natural to draw comparisons which would show that, even in this seemingly commonplace field, as on the plane of ideas, all things of the Orient are diminished when imported into the Western world.

East and West, vol. 7, no. 3, October 1956, pp. 274–76

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lundi, 08 novembre 2010

Renato Del Ponte: My Memories of Julius Evola

My Memories of Julius Evola

Renato Del Ponte

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

Translated by Greg Johnson

DallaTrinceaADada.jpgRenato del Ponte is a central figure in European Evolianism. Founder of the Centro studi evoliani in Genoa in 1969 and editor of the journal Arthos, he also runs the Roman Traditionalist Movement.

Question: Renato del Ponte, your name is closely related to Evola’s. Can you tell us how you came to Evola and what your relationship was with him?

Reply: I am simply a man who has always sought to give my life, on the existential, political, and cultural levels, a line of extreme coherence. It is no surprise that on this way I crossed paths with Evola, who had made coherence in his life as in his writings his watchword.

Naturally because Evola was born in 1898 and I in 1944, our physical encounter could take place only in the last years of his life.

The circumstances and the characteristics of our relationship are developed partly in the letters from 1969 to 1973 (published in the book Julius Evola, Lettere 1955–1974 [Finale Emilia: Edizioni La terra degli avi, 1996], pp. 120–155).

It was always a very cordial relationship, which imparted in me the desire to create an organizational network to make his thought better known in Italy and abroad.

Q.: It is you who deposited the urn containing Evola’s ashes in a crevasse on Monte Rosa. Could you tell us the circumstances?

R.: Yes, it was I, along with other faithful friends, who ensured the transport and the deposit of Evola’s ashes in a crevasse on Monte Rosa at 4,200 meters of altitude, at the end of August 1974. To tell you the truth, I was not the executor of Evola’s will, but I had promised him that, along with our mutual friend Pierre Pascal, I would be vigilant so that the provisions of his will concerning his burial were correctly carried out.

As Evola feared, there were many serious oversights that obliged me to intervene and carry out the burial with the assistance of Eugene David who was Evola’s alpine guide when he made his ascents of Monte Rosa in 1930. It is impossible for me to relate all these adventures, some rather romantic, but you can refer to the collective work Julius Evola: le visionnaire foudroyé [Julius Evola: The Fallen Visionary] (Paris: Copernic, 1979) where some of them are reported.

Q.: You run the Roman Traditionalist Movement. What is this?

R.: The Movimento tradizionalista romano is an essentially cultural and spiritual structure that aims to raise awareness of the characteristics of the Roman Tradition, which is not a historical reality that has been definitively left behind, but an immortal spiritual reality still able to offer today an operative existential model and a religious orientation based on what we define as the “Roman way of the Gods.” To this end, the movement acts on a very discrete internal and communal dedicated to the practice of pietas, and on an external plane dedicated to making known the traditional set of themes of Romanness through manifestos, books — for example my Religione dei Romani (Milano: Rusconi, 1992) which obtained an important literary prize — and periodicals. For more details, you should refer to my contribution in Paris last February to colloquium of L’originel on paganism that will probably be published in French in the journal Antaios.

Q.: For some, Evola’s involvement with the Ur Group is his most interesting period. It seems to us that he mixed quasi-fascist politics, occultism, and modern art in an astonishing and attractive cocktail. Is this correct? How do you analyze this phase of Evola’s life?

R.: I cannot discuss the Ur Group and Evola’s involvement in a brief manner. I recommend my book Evola e il magico Gruppo di Ur [Evola and the Magical Ur Group] (Borzano: Sear Edizioni, 1994).

I will simply say that it was the most committed period in Evola’s life.

This is because it was the period when certain esoteric current, which for the most part laid claim to Roman tradition, had some concrete hope of influencing Italy’s government.

But this phase of Evola’s life can also be interpreted as an attempt, characteristic of his whole existence, “to proceed differently,” to exceed the limits of the forces that condition existence, to create something once more, or better, to return under quite “normal” conditions to a life according to the Tradition.

Q.: How does one reconcile Evolianism and political commitment?

R.: If you speak to me about possible political actions of more limited orientation, reserved to a minority that tries to influence certain groups or certain environments, but at the individual level and without concrete hope of publication of journals and books.

We soon begin to publish Arthos again at quarterly intervals. It is natural that the Italian initiative is accompanied by the birth of similar groups and movements in Europe and especially in France where Evola’s work is well-known. The year to come will surely see the realization of concrete initiatives of which you will be of course informed since we naturally count on your active contribution.

From Lutte du Peuple, no. 32, 1996, http://www.centrostudilaruna.it/mes-souvenirs-de-julius-e...

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lundi, 27 septembre 2010

Evola & Spengler

Evola & Spengler

by Robert STEUCKERS

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com/

Translated by Greg Johnson

evola.jpg“I translated from German, at the request of the publisher Longanesi . . . Oswald Spengler’s vast and celebrated work The Decline of the West. That gave the opportunity to me to specify, in an introduction, the meaning and the limits of this work which, in its time, had been world-famous.” These words begin a series of critical paragraphs on Spengler in Julius Evola’s The Way of Cinnabar (p. 177).

Evola pays homage to the German philosopher for casting aside “progressivist and historicist fancies” by showing that the stage reached by our civilization shortly after the First World War was not an apex, but, on the contrary, a “twilight.” From this Evola recognized that Spengler, especially thanks to the success of his book, made it possible to go beyond the linear and evolutionary conception of history. Spengler describes the opposition between Kultur and Zivilisation, “the former term indicating, for him, the forms or phases of a civilization that is qualitative, organic, differentiated, and vital, the latter indicating the forms of a civilization that is rationalist, urban, mechanical, shapeless, soulless” (p. 178).

Evola admired the negative description that Spengler gives of Zivilisation but is critical of the absence of a coherent definition of Kultur, because, he says, the German philosopher remained the prisoner of certain intellectual schemes proper to modernity. “A sense of the metaphysical dimension or of transcendence, which represents the essence of all true Kultur, was completely lacking in him” (p. 179).

Evola also reproaches Spengler’s pluralism; for the author of The Decline of the West, civilizations are many, distinct, and discontinuous compared to one another, each one constituting a closed unit. For Evola, this conception is valid only for the exterior and episodic aspects of various civilizations. On the contrary, he continues, it is necessary to recognize, beyond the plurality of the forms of civilization, civilizations (or phases of civilization) of the “modern” type, as opposed to civilizations (or phases of civilization) of the “Traditional” type. There is plurality only on the surface; at bottom, there is a fundamental opposition between modernity and Tradition.

Then Evola reproaches Spengler for being influenced by German post-romantic vitalist and “irrationalist” strains of thought, which received their most comprehensive and radical expression in the work of Ludwig Klages. The valorization of life is vain, explains Evola, if life is not illuminated by an authentic comprehension of the world of origins. Thus the plunge into existentiality, into Life, required by Klages, Bäumler, or Krieck, can appear dangerous and initiate a regressive process (one will note that the Evolian critique distinguishes itself from German interpretations, according exactly to the same criteria that we put forward while speaking about the reception of the work of Bachofen).

Evola thinks this vitalism leads Spengler to say “things that make one blush” about Buddhism, Taoism, Stoicism, and Greco-Roman civilization (which, for Spengler, is merely a civilization of “corporeity”). Lastly, Evola does not accept Spengler’s valorization of “Faustian man,” a figure born in the Age of Discovery, the Renaissance and humanism; by this temporal determination, Faustian man is carried towards horizontality rather than towards verticality. Regarding Caesarism, a political phenomenon of the era of the masses, Evola shares the same negative judgment as Spengler.

spengler_oswald.jpgThe pages devoted to Spengler in The Path of Cinnabar are thus quite critical; Evola even concludes that the influence of Spengler on his thought was null. Such is not the opinion of an analyst of Spengler and Evola, Attilio Cucchi (in “Evola, Tradizione e Spengler,” Orion no. 89, 1992). For Cucchi, Spengler influenced Evola, particularly in his criticism of the concept of the “West”: by affirming that Western civilization is not the civilization, the only civilization there is, Spengler relativizes it, as Guénon charges. Evola, an attentive reader of Spengler and Guénon, would combine elements of the the Spenglerian and Guénonian critiques. Spengler affirms that Faustian Western culture, which began in the tenth century, has declined and fallen into Zivilisation, which has frozen, drained, and killed its inner energy. America is already at this final stage of de-ruralized and technological Zivilisation.

It is on the basis of the Spenglerian critique of Zivilisation that Evola later developed his critique of Bolshevism and Americanism: If Zivilisation is twilight for Spengler, America is the extreme-West for Guénon, i.e., irreligion pushed to its ultimate consequences. In Evola, undoubtedly, Spenglerian and Guénonian arguments combine, even if, at the end of the day, the Guénonian elements dominate, especially in 1957, when the edition of The Decline of the West was published by Longanesi with a Foreword by Evola. On the other hand, the Spenglerian criticism of political Caesarism is found, sometimes word for word, in Evola’s books Fascism Seen from the Right and the Men Among the Ruins.

Dr. H. T. Hansen, the author of the Introduction to the German edition of Men Among the Ruins (Menschen inmitten von Ruinen [Tübingen: Hohenrain, 1991]), confirms the sights of Cucchi: several Spenglerian ideas are found in outline in Men Among the Ruins, notably the idea that the state is the inner form, the “being-in-form” of the nation; the idea that decline is measured to the extent that Faustian man has become a slave of his creations; the machine forces him down a path from which he can never turn back, and which will never allow him any rest. Feverishness and flight into the future are characteristics of the modern world (“Faustian” for Spengler) which Guénon and Evola condemn with equal strength.

In The Hour of Decision (1933), Spengler criticizes the Caesarism (in truth, Hitlerian National Socialism) as a product of democratic titanism. Evola wrote the Preface of the Italian translation of this work, after a very attentive reading. Finally, the “Prussian style” exalted by Spengler corresponds, according to Hansen, with the Evolian idea of the “aristocratic order of life, arranged hierarchically according to service.” As for the necessary preeminence of Grand Politics over economics, the idea is found in both authors. Thus the influence of Spengler on Evola was not null, despite what Evola says in The Path of Cinnabar.

Source: Nouvelles de Synergies européennes no. 21, 1996.

Note: Evola’s The Path of Cinnabar is now available in English translation from Arktos Media.

samedi, 18 septembre 2010

Evola's Metaphysics of War

Evola’s Metaphysics of War

Derek Hawthorne

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com

Julius Evola
Metaphysics of War:
Battle, Victory, and Death in the World of Tradition

Aarhus, Denmark: Integral Tradition Publishing, 2007

Italian Traditionalist Julius Evola (1898–1974) needs little introduction to the readers of Counter-Currents. The Metaphysics of War is a collection of sixteen essays by Evola, published in various periodicals in the years 1935–1950.

These essays constitute what is certainly the most radical attempt ever made to justify war. This justification takes place essentially on two levels: one profane, the other sacred. At the profane (meaning simply “non-sacred”) level, Evola argues that war is one of the primary means by which heroism expresses itself, and he regards heroism as the noblest expression of the human spirit. Evola reminds us that war is a time in which both combatants and non-combatants realize that they may lose their lives and everything and everyone they value at any moment. This creates a unique moral opportunity for individuals to learn to detach themselves from material possessions, relationships, and concern for their own safety. War puts everything into perspective, and Evola states that it is in such times that “a greater number of persons are led towards an awakening, towards liberation” (p. 135):

From one day to the next, even from one hour to the next, as a result of a bombing raid one can lose one’s home and everything one most loved, everything to which one had become most attached, the objects of one’s deepest affections. Human existence becomes relative–it is a tragic and cruel feeling, but it can also be the principle of a catharsis and the means of bringing to light the only thing which can never be undermined and which can never be destroyed. [p. 136]

So far, these ideals may seem quite similar to those espoused by Ernst Jünger–and indeed Evola alludes to him in one place in the text (p. 153), and is uncharacteristically positive. (Usually when Evola references a modern author it is almost always to stick the knife in.) However, Evola goes well beyond Jünger, for he adds to this ideal of heroism and detachment a “spiritual” and even supernatural dimension (this is the “sacred” level I alluded to earlier). In essential terms, Evola argues that the heroism forged in war is a means to transcendence of this world of suffering and to identification with the source of all being. He even argues that the hero may attain a kind of magical quality.

Unsurprisingly, Evola attempts to situate his treatment of heroism in terms of the doctrine of the “four ages,” a staple of Traditionalist writings. The version of the four ages most familiar to Western readers is the one found in Ovid, where the ages are gold, silver, bronze, and iron. However, Evola has squarely in mind the Indian version wherein the iron age (the most degraded of all) is referred to as the Kali Yuga. To these correspond the four castes of traditional society, with a spiritual, priestly element dominating in the first age, the warrior in the second, the merchant (or, bourgeoisie, the term most frequently used by Evola) in the third, and the slave or servant in the fourth.

When the bourgeoisie dominates in the third age, “the concept of the nation materializes and democratizes itself”; “an anti-aristocratic and naturalistic conception of the homeland is formed” (p. 24). Ironically, when I read this I could not help but think of fascist Italy and National Socialist Germany. To the liberal mind, fascism and Nazism both are “ultra-conservative” (to put it mildly). From the Traditionalist perspective, however, both are modern, populist movements. And National Socialism especially found itself caught up in reductionist, biological theories of “the nation.” Nevertheless, Evola writes that “fascism appears to us as a reconstructive revolution, in that it affirms an aristocratic and spiritual concept of the nation, as against both socialist and internationalist collectivism, and the democratic and demagogic notion of the nation” (p. 27). In other words, whatever its shortcomings may be, fascism is for Evola a means to restore Tradition. Evola also writes approvingly of fascism having elevated the nation to the status of “warrior nation.” And he states that the next step “would be the spiritualization of the warrior principle itself” (p. 27). Of course, it seems to have been Heinrich Himmler’s ambition to turn his SS into an elite corps of “spiritual warriors.” One wonders if this was the reason Evola began courting members of the SS in the late 1930s (a matter briefly discussed in John Morgan’s introduction to this volume).

Evola tells us that the end of the reign of the bourgeoisie opens up two paths for Europe. One is a shift to the subhuman, and Evola makes it clear that this is what bolshevism represents. The fourth age is the age of the slave and of the triumph of slave morality in the form of communism. The other possibility, however, is a shift to the “superhuman.” As Evola has said elsewhere, the Kali Yuga may be an age of decline but it presents unique opportunities for self-transformation and the attainment of personal power. (“A radical destruction of the ‘bourgeois’ who exists in every man is possible in these disrupted times more than in any other,” p. 137). Those who “ride the tiger” are able not just to withstand the onslaught of negative forces in the fourth age, but actually to use them to rise to higher levels of self-realization. War is one such negative force, and Evola maintains that the idea of war as a path to spiritual transformation is a Traditional view.

According to Evola, the ancient Aryans held that there are two paths to enlightenment: contemplation and action. In traditional Indian terms, the former is the path of the brahmin and the latter of the kshatriya (the warrior caste). Both are forms of yoga, which literally means any practice that has as its aim connecting the individual to his true self, and to the source of all being (which are, in fact, the same thing). The yoga of action is referred to as karma yoga (where karma simply means “action”), and the primary text which teaches it is the Bhagavad-Gita. Evola returns again and again to the Bhagavad-Gita throughout The Metaphysics of War, and it really is the primary text to which Evola’s philosophy of “war as spiritual path” is indebted. The work forms part (a very small part, actually) of the epic poem Mahabharata, the story of which culminates in an apocalyptic war called Kurukshetra. On the eve of battle, the consummate warrior Arjuna (the Siegfried of the piece) surveys the two camps from afar and realizes that on his enemy’s side are many men who are his friends and relations. When Arjuna reflects on the fact that he will have to kill these men the following day, he falters. Fortunately, his charioteer–who is actually the god Krishna–is there to teach him the error of his ways. Krishna tells Arjuna that these men are already dead, for their deaths have been ordained by the gods. In killing them, Arjuna is simply doing his duty and playing his role as a warrior. He must set aside his personal feelings and concentrate on his duty; he must literally become a vehicle for the execution of the divine plan.

One might well ask, what’s in it for Arjuna? The answer is that this following of duty becomes a path by which he may triumph over his fears, his passions, his weaknesses–all those things that tie him to what is ephemeral. Following his duty becomes a way for Arjuna to rise above his lesser self and to connect with the divine. This is not mere piety or “love of God.” It is a way to tap into a superhuman source of power and wisdom. The result is that Arjuna becomes more than merely human.

In fact, Krishna puts Arjuna in a situation in which he must fight two wars. One, the “lesser” war is external–it is the one fought on the battlefield with swords and spears. The other, “greater” war is internal and is fought against the internal enemy: “passion, the animal thirst for life” (p. 52). Evola places a great deal of emphasis on this distinction. What Krishna really teaches Arjuna is that in order to fight the lesser war, he must fight the greater one. Really, unless one is able to conquer one’s weaknesses, nothing else may be accomplished. This opens up the possibility that there may be “warriors” who never fight in any conventional, “external” wars. These would be warriors of the spirit. Evola believes that one can be a true warrior without ever lifting a sword or a gun, by conquering the enemy within oneself. And he mentions initiatic cults, like Mithraism, which conceived of their members on the model of soldiers.

Nevertheless, the focus in The Metaphysics of War is really on actual, physical combat as a means to spiritual transformation. Evola tells us that the warrior ceases to act as an ordinary person, and that a non-human force transfigures his action. The warrior who does not fear death becomes death itself. This is one of the major lessons imparted by Krishna in the Bhagavad-Gita. It is not just a matter of “waking up” or becoming tougher and harder (as it is in Jünger). Evola clearly suggests that there is a supernatural element involved, though his remarks are far from clear. He writes that “the one who experiences heroism spiritually is pervaded with a metaphysical tension, an impetus, whose object is ‘infinite,’ and which, therefore, will carry him perpetually forward, beyond the capacity of one who fights from necessity, fights as a trade, or is spurred by natural instincts or external suggestion” (p. 41). Elsewhere Evola states that when the “right intention” is present “then one has given birth to a force which will not be able to miss the supreme goal” (p. 48).  Heroic experiences seem “to possess an almost magical effectiveness: they are inner triumphs which can determine even material victory and are a sort of evocation of divine forces intimately tied to ‘tradition’ and ‘the race of the spirit’ of a given stock” (p. 81).

The suggestion here is that the experience of combat, fought with the right intention, results in a kind of ecstasy (an “active ecstasy” as Evola says on p. 80). The Greek ekstasis literally means “standing outside onself.” In combat one is lifted out of one’s ordinary self and, more specifically, out of one’s concern with the mundane cares of life. One enters into a state where one ceases even to care about personal survival. It is at this point that one has ceased to identify with the “animal” elements in the human personality and has tapped into that part of us that seems to be a divine spark. This is not, however, an intellectual state or “realization.” Instead, it is a new state of being, which pervades the entire person. The ancient Germans called it wut and odhr. And from these two words derive two of the names of the chief Germanic god: Wuotan and Odin. Odin is not, however, conceived simply as the god of war; he is also the god of wisdom and spiritual transformation. In this state of ecstasy, one feels oneself lifted above the merely human; one’s senses and reflexes become more acute, one’s movements more graceful, life suddenly comes into perspective and is seen as the transient affair that it really is, and one feels invincible, capable of accomplishing anything. (A dim simulacrum of this is experienced in athletic competition.) One has, in fact, become a god.

Evola ties this achievement of self-transformation through combat into a “general vision of life,” which he expresses in one of the most memorable metaphysical passages in this small volume:

[L]ike electrical bulbs too brightly lit, like circuits invested with too high a potential, human beings fall and die only because a power burns within them which transcends their finitude, which goes beyond everything they can do and want. This is why they develop, reach a peak, and then, as if overwhelmed by the wave which up to a given point had carried them forward, sink, dissolve, die and return to the unmanifest. But the one who does not fear death, the one who is able, so to speak, to assume the powers of death by becoming everything which it destroys, overwhelms and shatters–this one finally passes beyond limitation, he continues to remain upon the crest of the wave, he does not fall, and what is beyond life manifests itself within him. [p. 54]

Throughout The Metaphysics of War, Evola describes the various virtues of the warrior. These are the characteristics one must have to be effective in battle, and receptive to the sort of experience Evola describes. Again, however, it is very clear that he believes that all those who follow a path of spiritual transformation are warriors. Evola describes the warrior as without any doubt or hesitation; as having a bearing that suggests he “comes from afar”; as holding a world-affirming outlook. The warrior takes pleasure in danger and in being put to the test. (The lesson here for all of us, Evola says, is to find the meaning in adversity, and to take hardships as calls upon our nobility.) The warrior regards as comrades only those he can respect; he has a passion for distance and order; he has the ability to subordinate his passions to principles. The warrior’s relations with others are direct, clear, and loyal. He carries himself with a dignity devoid of vanity, and loathes the trivial.

Above all, however, Evola emphasizes the importance of  detachment:

detachment towards oneself, towards things and towards persons, which should instill a calm, an incomparable certainty and even, as we have before stated, an indomitability. It is like simplifying oneself, divesting oneself in a state of waiting, with a firm, whole mind, with an awareness of something that exists beyond all existence. From this state the capacity will also be found of always being able to commence, as if ex nihilo, with a new and fresh mind, forgetting what has been and what has been lost, focusing only on what positively and creatively can still be done. [p. 137]

Evola offers us a vision of life as a member in a spiritual army. The standard, liberal view of the military is in effect that it is a necessary evil, and that the military and its values are not a suitable model for individual lives or societies. Evola argues instead that true civilization is conceived in heroic and “virile” terms. Readers of Evola’s other works will be familiar with his concept of “spiritual virility.” Mere physical virility is the element in the man that he shares with other male animals. But this is not true or absolute manhood. True manhood is achieved in the spirit, in developing the sort of hardness, detachment, and perspective on life that is characteristic of the warrior. Rene Guenon (a major influence on Evola) called the modern age “the reign of quantity.” It is typical of our time that we have come to see manhood entirely in terms of quantities of various kinds: how many pounds one can bench press or squat; numbers of sexual partners; inches of height; inches of penis; the number of zeros in one’s bank balance; the number of cylinders in one’s engine, etc. Just as in Huxley’s Brave New World, our masters have striven to create a society without conflict; a “nice” and “tolerant” society. And women have invaded virtually every arena of competition that used to be exclusively male, and ruined them for everyone. Under such circumstances, how is spiritual virility to develop? It is no surprise that our conception of virility is a purely physical and quantitative one. Evola evidently saw in fascism a means to awaken spiritual virility in the Italian male. He says that the starting point for fascist ethics is “scorn for the easy life” (p. 62).

Unlike other thinkers on the right, Evola never was particularly interested in biological conceptions of race, because he believed that human nature as such was irreducible to biology. He opposed reductionism, in short, and believed in a spiritual (i.e., non-material) component to our identity. Evola articulates his views on race in much greater detail elsewhere. Here he reminds us of his belief in a “super race” of the spirit: a race of men who are like-souled, and not necessarily like-bodied. Nevertheless, Evola realized the connection between the body and the spirit. He did not believe that all the (biological) races are equally fitted for achieving heroism. What Evola was most concerned to combat was a racialism that reduced heroism or mastery to simple membership in a race defined by certain biological characteristics. For Evola, heroism is really achieved in a step beyond the biological, and in mastery over it.

One will also find little in Evola that celebrates “the nation.” Evola’s ideal of heroism transcends national identity. This comes out most clearly in his discussion of the Crusades: “In fact, the man of the Crusades was able to rise, to fight and to die for a purpose which, in its essence, was supra-political and supra-human, and to serve on a front defined no longer by what is particularistic, but rather by what is universal” (p. 40, italics in original). Having written this, however, Evola immediately realized that the powers that be might see this (correctly) as implying that it is the achievement of heroism as such that is important, not merely the achievement of heroism in service to one’s people. A further implication of this, of course, is that the hero is raised above his people. And so Evola writes in the next paragraph, “Naturally this must not be misunderstood to mean that the transcendent motive may be used as an excuse for the warrior to become indifferent, to forget the duties inherent in his belonging to a race and to a fatherland” (pp. 40-41). Evola is not really being disingenuous here. Taking a cue again from the Bhagavad-Gita, one can say that it is the performance of one’s duty to race and fatherland that is the path to liberation. But as the wise man once said, when the raft takes us to the other shore, we do not put it on our backs and carry on with it. As Rajayoga teaches, there is no god (and certainly no country) above an awakened man. Evola is a fundamentally a philosopher of the left hand path, not a conservative. This individualistic element in him is troublesome for many on the right, and it is one of the primary reasons why he was unable to wholly reconcile himself to fascism.

Nine of these essays were written during the Second World War, and it is interesting to see how Evola situates his understanding of the conflict within his philosophy. In one essay written on the eve of the war, Evola states that “If the next war is a ‘total war’ it will mean also a ‘total test’ of the surviving racial forces of the modern world. Without doubt, some will collapse, whereas others will awaken and arise. Nameless catastrophes could even be the hard but necessary price of heroic peaks and new liberations of primordial forces dulled through grey centuries. But such is the fatal condition for the creation of any new world–and it is a new world that we seek for the future” (p. 68). It is doubtful that the war’s outcome either surprised or demoralized Evola. As noted earlier, he believed strongly in a cyclical view of history, and saw our age as a period of inevitable decline. It could not have surprised him that the combined forces of bourgeois and Bolshevik prevailed. In the final essay of in this volume, published five years after the end of the war, Evola reflects that “what is really required to defend ‘the West’” against the forces of barbarism “is the strengthening, to an extent perhaps still unknown to Western man, of a heroic vision of life” (p. 152).

Evola makes it clear that his position is not an unqualifiedly pessimistic one. The Kali Yuga is not the final age; history is cyclical, and a new and better age will follow this one. In each period, the stage is set for the next. The actions of those who resist this age set the stage for what is to come. Hence, though speaking and acting on behalf of truth may seem futile given the degradation that surrounds us, ultimately our resistance is part of the mechanism of the great cosmic wheel which will, in time, swing things back to truth and to Tradition. In the act of resisting, heroism is born in us and instantly we become creatures who no longer belong to this age, who “come from afar.” We become beacons pointing the way to the future, and simultaneously back to a glorious past. Evola writes that “a teaching peculiar to the ancient Indo-Germanic traditions was that precisely those who, in the dark age, in spite of all, resist, will be able to obtain fruits which those who lived in more favorable, less hard periods could seldom reach” (p. 61).

The Metaphysics of War is required reading for all those interested in the Traditionalist movement. But it will be of special appeal to a certain sort of man, who scorns the easy life and seeks to give birth to something noble and heroic in himself.

Note: The Metaphysics of War is available for purchase here.

Renato del Ponte: Mes souvenirs de Julius Evola

Mes souvenirs de Julius Evola

Renato Del Ponte

Ex: http://www.centrostudilaruna.it/

Renato del Ponte est une figure incontournable de l’évolisme européen. Fondateur du Centro studi evoliani à Gênes en 1969 et éditeur des revue Arthos, il anime aussi le Mouvement traditionaliste romain. Il nous a fait l’amitié de nous accorder l’entretien qui suit.

Question: Renato del Ponte, votre nom est étroitement lié à celui d’Evola, pourriez vous vous présenter à nos lecteurs et préciser ce qui vous a amené à Evola et quels ont été vos rapports avec lui?

Réponse: Je suis simplement une homme qui a toujours cherché à donner à sa propre vie, sur les plans existentiels, politiques et culturels, une ligne d’extrême cohérence. Il est normal que sur cette voie mon itinéraire ait rencontré celui d’Evola qui avait fait de la cohérence dans sa vie comme dans ses écrits son mot d’ordre. Naturellement pour des raisons conjoncturelles – Evola est né en 1898 et moi en 1944 – la rencontre physique n’a pu se produire que dans les dernières années de sa vie.

Les circonstances et les particularités de nos rapports sont développés en partie dans les courriers que nous avons échangé à partir de 1969 et jusqu’en 1973 (Ndlr: Édité dans le livre Julius Evola, Letttere 1955-1974, Edizioni La terra degli avi, Finale Emilia, 1996, pp. 120-155).

Il s’est toujours s’agit de rapports très cordiaux, emprunts pour ma part de la volonté de créer un réseau organisationnel qui fasse mieux connaître sa pensée en Italie et à l’étranger.

Q.: C’est vous qui avez déposé dans une crevasse du mont Rosé l’urne contenant les cendres d’Evola. Pourriez vous nous dire dans quelles circonstances ?

R.: C’est effectivement moi et d’autres amis fidèles qui avons assuré le transport et le dépôt des cendres d’Evola dans une crevasse du Mont Rosé à 4.200 mètres d’altitude, à la fin d’août 1974. Pour vous dire la vérité, je n’étais pas l’exécuteur testamentaire des dernières volontés d’Evola, mais je lui avais promis ainsi qu’à notre ami commun Pierre Pascal, que je serais vigilant à ce que les volontés concernant sa sépulture soient correctement exécutées.

Comme le craignait Evola, il y eut de graves et multiples négligences qui m’obligèrent a intervenir et a procéder à l’inhumation avec l’aide d’Eugène David qui était le guide alpin d’Evola lorsqu’il fit ses ascensions du Mont Rosé en 1930. Il m’est impossible de raconter toutes les péripéties, certaines particulièrement romanesques, mais vous pouvez vous reporter à l’ouvrage collectif Julius Evola: le visionnaire foudroyé (Copernic, Paris, 1979) ou certaines sont relatées.

Q.: Vous animez le Mouvement traditionaliste romain. Qu’est-ce ?

R.: Le Movimento tradizionalista romano est une structure essentielle­ment culturelle et spirituelle qui se propose de mieux faire connaître les caractéristiques de la Tradition romaine, laquelle n’est pas une réalité historique définitivement dépassée, mais une entité spirituelle immortel­le capable d’offrir encore aujourd’hui un modèle opératif existentiel et une orientation religieuse basée sur ce que nous définissons comme la «voie romaine des Dieux». Dans ce but, le mouvement agit sur un plan interne et communautaire, très discret, voué à la pratique de la pietas, et sur un plan externe voué à faire connaître la thématique traditionnelle de la romanité au travers de manifestes, de livres – par exemple ma Religione dei Romani (Rusconi, Milano, 1992) qui a obtenu un important prix littéraire – et de revues. Pour le reste des particularités vous devez vous référer à mon intervention faites à Paris en février dernier au colloque de L’originel sur le paganisme et qui sera probablement publiée en français dans la revue Antaios.

Q.: Pour certains, la période du groupe Ur est la plus intéressante d’Evola. Il nous semble qu’elle mélangea politique para-fasciste, occultisme et art moderne dans un étonnant et fascinant cocktail. Est-ce exact? Comment analyser cette phase de la vie d’Evola?

R.: Je ne peux pas parler de manière brève du groupe d’Ur et de ses activités. Je vous renvoie à mon livre Evola e il magico Gruppo di Ur (Sear Edizioni, Borzano, 1994).

Je me limiterai à dire gué c’est la période la plus engagée de la vie d’Evola.

Cela parce que ce fut la période où certains courants ésotériques, qui pour une bonne part se revendiquaient de la tradition romaine, avaient quelques espérances concrètes d’influencer le gouvernement de l’Italie.

Mais aussi cette phase de la vie d’Evola peut être interpétée comme une tentative, caractéristique de toute son existence, de «procéder autre­ment», de dépasser les limites des forces qui conditionnent l’existence, pour créer quelque chose de nouveau, ou de meilleur, de revenir à des conditions plus «normales» d’une vie selon la Tradition.

Q.: Comment concilier évolisme et engagement politique?

R.: Si vous me parlez de possibles actions politiques d’orientation une fâché plus limitée, réservée à une minorité qui est de tenter d’influencer certains groupes ou certaines ambiances, mais au niveau individuel et sans espérance concrète de publication de revues et d’édition.

Nous allons bientôt recommencer à publier Arthos à un rythme trimestriel. Il est naturel que l’initiative italienne soit accompagnée par la naissance de groupes et de mouvements analogues en Europe et surtout en France où l’œuvre d’Evola est bien connue. L’année a venir verra sûrement la réalisation d’initiatives concrètes dont vous serez bien sur informés puisque nous comptons naturellement sur votre active contri­bution.

Note
Article tiré de «Lutte du Peuple», numéro 32, 1996.

vendredi, 14 mai 2010

Evola e gli altri

Evola e gli altri

di Marco Iacona - 09/05/2010

Fonte: secolo d'italia

http://www.controcorrentedizioni.it/images/Evola-Maestro-cop.jpg
Siamo oramai giunti alla terza edizione del tradizionale convegno di studi sulla figura e l’opera di Julius Evola (quest’anno dal 7 all’8 maggio e dal titolo: “Evola e la filosofia”), organizzato dalla Scuola romana di filosofia politica insieme alle fondazioni “Evola” e “Abbadia” e al Comune di Alatri, il paese della ciociaria che ha sempre ospitato il seminario. Dal 2006, con cadenza biannuale, studiosi e curiosi di mezz’Italia si danno infatti convegno per seguire e mettere a confronto opinioni sul “maestro della tradizione” e in generale su ciò che potrebbe essere accostato – idee e personaggi – al pensatore di origini siciliane, morto nel 1974 dopo più di mezzo secolo di attività intellettuale.
Quest’anno molte le defezioni. Da quella di due importanti studiosi evoliani come Piero Di Vona e Renato Del Ponte, autori e curatori di saggi fondamentali a quella di Giano Accame scomparso come si sa da poco più di un anno. Intervistato al Tg1 durante il convegno del 2008, Accame aveva rilasciato alcune importanti dichiarazioni circa la rilevanza acquisita dal pensiero evoliano: «Franco Volpi, uno dei più interessanti filosofi della nuova generazione, professore all’università di Padova, collaboratore di Repubblica, ha detto che bisogna ormai mettersi d’accordo, i grandi del pensiero italiano del ‘900 sono tre: Croce, Gentile e Evola». Ci mancherà... Unica delle tre storiche “D” (de Turris-Del Ponte-Di Vona) sarà invece presente Gianfranco de Turris, segretario della fondazione “Evola” e artefice e promotore di studi e pubblicazioni sul filosofo dell’“individuo assoluto”. Lo abbiamo sentito e ci ha anticipato parte della sua relazione introduttiva: «Si tratterà come sempre di un seminario di studi seri ma non formalisti. L’aggettivo “serio” varrà in due direzioni: nei confronti di una cultura, come quella italiana che nonostante i passi avanti non sembra accettare completamente un pensatore così eterodosso come Evola; e dall’altra quegli ambienti, spesso giovanili e facili agli entusiasmi, che vedono qualche volta con fastidio il lavoro di chi si dedica ad approfondire le complesse tematiche di Evola». Il convegno di quest’anno sembra muovere da un tema sottinteso, il raffronto fra il pensiero evoliano – oramai abbondantemente “sdoganato” in seno all’Accademia – e quello di altri noti studiosi, e da un suo corollario: il “maestro della tradizione” fu tutt’altro che un pensatore naif. Evola fu isolato per il contenuto delle sue speculazioni (spesso in anticipo sui tempi), per la sua “equazione personale” eccessivamente critica e per una serie di circostanze che attesero alla sue scelte nel primo e nel secondo dopoguerra; ma Evola fu soprattutto un uomo libero – sovente costretto a difendersi da attacchi precipitosi – il cui pensiero fin dai primi anni non poté non indirizzarsi verso quella “libertà” di cui ha scritto con grande acutezza Massimo Donà.
Di un Evola come anticipatore di tematiche “aspre” si occuperà Vitaldo Conte presente ad Alatri con una relazione dal titolo I nudi di Evola come “metafisica del sesso”, uno studio che strizza l’occhio all’attività pittorica di Evola (ma non quella degli anni Dieci, bensì la ripresa degli anni Sessanta) e a uno dei libri più importanti del filosofo – ma meno letti – pubblicato per la prima volta nel 1958: Metafisica del sesso. Per Conte curatore dell’imminente mostra leccese “Eros parola d’arte”, i quadri del secondo periodo evoliano presentano una loro attualità di pensiero: «la figura femminile emerge dal precedente astrattismo con evidenti allusioni e simbologie erotico-sessuali e possono essere letti «come una sorta di manifesto visivo delle peculiarità della donna».
I parallelismi fra Evola e altri studiosi ben accreditati cominciano poi a partire da due mostri sacri della filosofia: Hegel pensatore di orizzonti quasi sterminati (a seguire queste tracce sarà lo scrittore Giandomenico Casalino) e l’antintellettualista Nietzsche (protagonista sarà invece Domenico Caccamo dell’università “la Sapienza” della Capitale); il saggista Stefano Arcella relazionerà poi su un Evola “vicino” a Gianbattista Vico e il sociologo Carlo Gambescia lo accosterà a Vilfredo Pareto teorico delle élite. Giuliano Borghi dell’università di Teramo metterà a confronto Evola e Ernst Jünger o meglio Evola e la figura dell’anarca jüngeriano, mentre Giovanni Sessa ancora della “Sapienza”, parlerà della coppia Evola-Andrea Emo, filosofo morto nell’83, allievo di Gentile e molto vicino a Cristina Campo. Per Sessa, come già per Roberto Melchionda storico interprete del pensatore romano, Evola e Emo costruiscono «una via filosofica che porta a moderna compiutezza quella negazione nichilistica che è presente in forma potenziale nelle categorie dell’idealismo, ma che i più (tra i critici) non avvertono». Un accostamento che continuerà a far discutere, sembra evidente. Fra i relatori anche Davide Bigalli dell’università di Milano, Claudio Bonvecchio dell’università dell’Insubria, Gian Franco Lami della “Sapienza”, Agostino Carrino della “Federico II” di Napoli (il titolo del suo studio sarà: Evola filosofo della politica?) e i saggisti Giuseppe Gorlani, Marco Rossi, Sandro Giovannini e Hans Thomas Hakl che tratterà della collaborazione evoliana al periodico Antaios, un’importante rivista uscita dal ‘59 al ’71, curata da Mircea Eliade e Jünger. Un periodico che approfondiva «argomenti mitologici, simbolici, scientifico-esoterici e letterari» per il quale Evola scrisse cinque articoli, uno dei quali ebbe parecchia influenza sul conte di Dürckheim. Infine Giampiero Moretti storico delle religioni dell’“Orientale” di Napoli, presenterà il volume appena uscito in una nuova edizione Le madri e la virilità olimpica (Mediterranee) di J. J. Bachofen, un autore tradotto e introdotto in Italia dallo stesso “maestro della tradizione”.

Tante altre notizie su www.ariannaeditrice.it

vendredi, 07 mai 2010

Julius Evola on Race

 

Ex: http://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/authors/Sunic-Evola.html#TS


 

Julius Evola on Race

Tom Sunic

May 1, 2010 

Growing interest in English speaking countries for the Italian philosopher Julius Evola may be a sign of the revival of the awesome cultural legacy of the Western civilization (see here and here). This legacy is awkwardly termed the “traditional –revolutionary – elitist – anti-egalitarian – postmodern thought.” But why not simply call it classical thought?  

The advantage of Evola, in contrast to many modern scholars of the same calibre, may be his staggering erudition that goes well beyond the narrow study of race. Evola was just as much at ease writing thick volumes about religion, language and sexuality as writing about legal issues related to international politics, or depicting decadence of the liberal system. His shortcomings are, viewed from the American academic perspective, that his prose is often not focused enough and his narrative often embraces too many topics at once. Evola was not a self-proclaimed “expert” on race — yet his erudition made him compose several impressive books on race from angles that are sorely missing among modern sociobiologists and race experts. Therefore, Evola’s works on race must be always put in a lager perspective. 

In this short survey of Evola’s position on race I am using the hard cover of the French translation of Indirizzi per una educazione razziale (1941) (Eléments pour une éduction raciale, 1984) and the more expanded Sintesi di dottrina della razza (1941), (“Synthesis of the racial doctrine”), translated into German by the author himself and by Annemarie Rasch and published in Germany in 1943. To my knowledge these two books are not available in English translation. His and Rasch’s excellent German translation of Sintesi had received (in my view an awkward and unnecessary) ‘political’ title; Grundrisse der faschistischen Rassenlehre (“Outlines of the fascist racial doctrine”) and is available on line.

Race of the Body vs. Race of the Spirit   

Evola writes that race represents a crucial element in the life of all humans. However, while acknowledging the clear-cut physical and biological markers of each race, he stresses over and over again the paramount importance of the spiritual and internal aspects of race — two points that are decisive for genuine racial awareness of the White man. Without full comprehension of these constituent racial parts — i.e., the “race of the soul” and the “race of the spirit” — no racial awareness is possible. Evola is adamantly opposed to conceptualizing race from a purely biological, mechanistic and Darwinian perspective. He sees that approach as dangerously reductionist, leading to unnecessary political and intellectual infighting.  

Diverse causes have contributed until now to the fact that racism has become the object of propaganda entrusted to incompetent people, to individuals who are waking up any day now as racists and anti-Semites and whose simple sloganeering has replaced serious principles and information. (Eléments pour une éduction raciale, p. 15) 

Evola freely uses the term ‘racism’ (razzismo) and ‘racist’ (razzista).  This was quite understandable in his epoch given that these words in Europe in the early thirties of the 20th century had a very neutral meaning with no dreaded symbols of the absolute evil ascribed to them today. The same can be said of the word ‘fascism’ and even ‘totalitarianism’ —  words which Evola uses in a normative manner when depicting an organic and holistic society designed for the future of the Western civilization. For Evola, the sense of racial awareness is more a spiritual endeavor and less a form of biological typology.      

And in this respect, we need to repeat it; we are dealing here with a formation of a mentality, a sensibility, and not with intellectual schemes or classifications for natural science manuals. (Eléments p. 16) 

For Evola, being White is not just a matter of good looks and high IQ, or for that matter something that needs to be sported in public. Racial awareness implies a sense of mysticism combined with the knowledge of one’s family lineage as well as a spiritual effort to delve into the White man’s primordial and mythical times. This is a task, which in the age of liberal chaos, must be entrusted only to élites completely detached from any material or pecuniary temptation.

Thus, racism invigorates and renders tangible the concept of tradition; it  makes the individual get used to observing in our ancestors not just a series of the more or less illustrious “dead,” but rather the expression of something still alive in ourselves and to which we are tied in our interior.  We are the carriers of a heritage that has been transmitted to us and that we need to transmit  – and in this spirit it is something going beyond time, something indicating,  what we called elsewhere, ‘the eternal race.’ (Eléments, p.31) 

In other words race is at a same time a heritage and a collective substrate. Irrespective of the fact that it expresses itself among all people, it is only among few that it attains its perfect realization and it is precisely there that the action and the significance of the individual and the personality can assert themselves. (Eléments, p.34) 

Evola offers the same views in his more expanded Sintesi (Grundrisse), albeit by using a somewhat different wording. Racial awareness for Evola requires moral courage and impeccable character and not just physical prowess. It is questionable to what extent many White racists today, in a self-proclaimed “movement” of theirs, with their silly paraphernalia on public display, are capable of such a mental exercise.       

Race means superiority, wholeness, decisiveness in life. There are common people and there are people “of race”. Regardless of which social status they belong to, these people form an aristocracy(Grundrisse, p.17).

In this particular regard, the racial doctrine rejects the doctrine of the environment, known to be an accessory to liberalism, to the idea of humanity and to Marxism. These false doctrines have picked up on the theory of the environment in order to defend the dogma of fundamental equality of all people. (Grundrisse, p. 17) 

And further Evola writes: 

Our position, when we claim that race exists as much in the body as in the spirit, goes beyond these two points of view. Race is a profound force manifesting itself in the realm of the body (race of the body) as in the realm of the spirit (race of the interior, race of the sprit).  In its full meaning the purity of race occurs when these two manifestations coincide; in other words, when the race of the body matches the race of the spirit and when it is capable of serving the most adequate organ of expression. (p.48) 

Racial-Spiritual Involution and the present Dark Ages  

Evola is aware of the dangerous dichotomy between the race of the spirit and the race of the body that may occur within the same race — or, as we call it, within the same ingroup. This tragic phenomenon occurs as a result of selecting the wrong mates, miscegenation, and genetic flaws going back into the White man’s primordial times. Modern social decadence also fosters racial chaos. Evola argues that very often the “race of the body” may be perfectly pure, with the “race of the spirit” being already tainted or destroyed. This results in a cognitive clash between a distorted perception of objective reality vs. subjective reality, and which sooner or later leads to strife or civil war. 

Evola harbors no illusions about master race; he advocates racial hygiene, always emphasizing the spiritual aspect of the race first. On a practical level, regarding modern White nationalists, Evola’s words are important insofar as they represent a harsh indictment of the endless bickering, petty sectarianism and petty jealousy seen so often among Whites. A White nationalist may be endowed with a perfect race of the body, but his racial spirit may be dangerously mongrelized.  

Studying racial psychology is a crucial task for all White racialists — an endeavor in which Evola was greatly influenced by the German racial scholar and his contemporary Franz Ludwig Clauss.

Furthermore, a special circumstance must be singled out, confirming the already stated fact that races that have best biologically preserved the Nordic type are inwardly sometimes in a higher degree of regression than other races of the same family. Some Nordic nations — especially the Anglo-Saxons — are those in which the tradition-conditioned normal relationship between the sexes has been turned upside down. The so-called emancipation of woman — which in reality only means the mutilation and degradation of woman — has actually started out among these nations and has been most widespread among them, whereas this relationship still retains something of a tradition-based view among other nations, regardless of it its bourgeois or its conventional echo.(Grundrisse p. 84).

Evola is well aware of the complexity of understanding race as well as our still meager knowledge of the topic. He is well aware that race cannot be just the subject of biologists, but also of paleontologists, psycho-anthropologists and mystics, such as the French mystic René Guenon, whom he knew well and whom he often quotes.  

Following in Evola’s footsteps we may raise a haunting question. Why individuals of the same White race, i.e. of the same White in-group frequently do not understand each other? Why is it that the most murderous wars have occurred within the same race, i.e. within the same White ingroup, despite the fact that the European ingroup is more or less biologically bonded together by mutual blood ties?  One must always keep in mind that the bloodiest wars in the 20th century occurred not between two racially opposed out-groups, but often within the same White ingroup. The level of violence between Whites and Whites during the American civil war, the savagery of the intra-White civil war in Spain from 1936 to 1939,  the degree of mutual hatred amidst White Europeans during WWII, and not least the recent intra-White barbarity of the Yugoslav conflict, are often incomprehensible for a member of the non-European outgroup. This remains an issue that needs to be urgently addressed by all sociobiologists. It must be pondered by all White nationalist activists all over the world.

There are actually too many cases of people who are somatically of the same race, of the same tribe, indeed who are fathers and sons of the same blood in the strict sense of the word and, yet who cannot “understand” each other. A demarcation line separates their souls; their way of feeling and judging is different and their common race of the body cannot do much about it, nor their common blood.  The impossibility of mutual understanding lies therefore on the level of supra-biology (“überbiologische Ebene”). Mutual understanding and hence real togetherness, as well as deeper unity, are only possible where the common "race of the soul" and the "spirit" coexist. (Grundrisse, 89) 

In order to understand his political and moral predicament, the White man must therefore delve into myths of his prehistory and look for his faults. For Evola, we are all victims of rationalism, Enlightenment and positivistic sciences that keep us imprisoned in a straitjacket of “either-or,” always in search for causal and rational explanations. Only by grasping the supraracial (superraza) meaning of ancient European myths and by using them as role models, can we come to terms with the contemporary racial chaos of the modern system.  

It is absolutely crucial to grasp the living significance of such a change of perspectives inherent to racist conceptions; the superior does not derive from the inferior. In the mystery of our blood, in the depth of our most abysmal of our being, resides the ineffaceable heredity of our primordial times. This is not heredity of brutality of bestial and savage instincts gone astray, as argued by psychoanalysis, and which, as one may logically conclude, derive from “evolutionism” or Darwinism. This heredity of origins, this heredity which comes from the deepest depth of times is theheredity of the light. (Eléments  72–73) 

Briefly, Evola rejects the widespread idea that we have evolved from exotic African monkeys, as the standard theory of evolution goes, and which is still widely accepted by modern scientists. He believes that we have now become the tainted progeny of the mythical Hyperborean race, which has significantly racially deteriorated over the eons and which has been adrift both in time and space. Amidst the ruins of the modern world, gripped by perversion and decadence, Evola suggest for new political elites the two crucial criteria, “the character and the form of the spirit, much more than intelligence.” As a racial mystic, Evola warns:

Because the concept of the world can be much more precise with a man without instruction than with a writer; it can be more solid with a soldier, or a peasant loyal to his land, than with a bourgeois intellectual, professor, or a journalist. (quoted in Alain de Benoist’s, Vude droite, 1977, p. 435)

We could only add that the best cultural weapons for our White “super-race” are our common  Indo-Aryan myths, our sagas, our will to power — and our inexorable sense of the tragic. 

Tom Sunic (http://www.tomsunic.info; http://doctorsunic.netfirms.com) is author, translator, former US professor in political science and a member of the Board of Directors of the American Third Position. His new book, Postmortem Report: Cultural Examinations from Postmodernity, prefaced by Kevin MacDonald, has just been released. Email him 

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