To yearn for stability in a world of chaos can only be a warrior’s desire.
Having finished by Goethe, I was ready to begin reading more philosophical works, and so, I jumped into Revolt Against the Modern World by Julius Evola. Evola is a sordid figure, but as the introductions to Revolt Against the Modern World make clear, he’s more misunderstood than anything. That being said, I do not think Evola’s character is relevant to what he said, its soundness, or validity. What I would like to try to do today is cover the thoughts I’ve had about Revolt Against the Modern World so far, and perhaps generate some questions that continue to spur conversation and help me understand Evola’s works.
For Evola, it appears as if the Modern World is constituted by illusory thinking. As Foucault was apt to acknowledge, and even Goethe emphasized in his work, the representational world, i.e., categorical world, devoid of essence and Being – a mere reflection of the ineluctable thing as is – is mistaken for the essential world. This representational world is the realm of becoming, a manifestation of the chthonic, demonic, lunar, or feminine realm. It’s shadow, darkness, and a product of – perhaps – Evola’s central insight: Involution.
Evola’s weltanschauung juxtaposes this lunar, feminine, or demonic realm of becoming with the realm of Being. The solar, masculine, divine, and transcendent realm wrestles against the realm of Becoming eternally. Being serves as the axis upon which the Universe revolves, organizes, and transfigures itself. For Evola, the traditional mode, organized by this essential and ineradicable form of Being, is defined by the solar and vital form.
Evola’s analysis of these bipolar structures is rooted in mythological and historical analyses akin to Merce Eliade’s – whom Evola had been in contact with – and Erich Neumann, whom I do not think Evola contacted. Regardless, I think it is apt to describe Evola’s work as historical structuralist. He gathers large swaths of evidence and derives constants from the forms he investigates that overlap, demonstrating the universal form of Being – the traditional mode – he’s elaborating upon. I think this is key to understanding Evola’s work. Evola is essentially picking up on consistent patterns found in most pre-Modern cultures that were the foundation from which Modern, Positivistic Cultures were derived or – if I were to adopt Evola’s ideas – from which Modern cultures have fallen.
As far as I’ve interpreted what Evola is saying, the traditional mode establishes justice, peace, and reveals the law as a divine construct. By engaging in priestly functions, the traditional man can connect with the unseen realm, the realm of pure Being, and manifest good fortune for the people he rules over. Principally, the priestly function associated with the traditional mode is the sacrificial function – e.g., by offering up a sacrifice to fire or by maintaining the Father’s fire. However, these esoteric rituals are not only intended to be carried out physically. While no doubt important for the traditional mode, the material formula is meant to reflect the unspoken world. When the world of the physical ruler and eternal ruler are in synch – when a bridge has been established between the physical and spiritual realm – the physical ruler takes on the eternal ruler’s essence; there’s very little reason to differentiate the two at that point. Then, when the ruler establishes justice, it is divine justice, when he establishes or maintains peace, it is divine peace, and when he reveals the law, it is divine law because its source and effect have been united, and are undifferentiated. When this occurs, the kings, fathers, and traditional man’s domain is functioning properly and is at peace – even in times of martial conflict.
Evola’s material basis for this process is the family. However, the family – as I’ve interpreted Evola’s work – isn’t determined by blood alone. For instance, while referencing the Roman patricians and plebeians, Evola makes clear that the plebeians didn’t have a family. Yet, when he suggests the patricians did have a family, he is conveying that they have descended from a spiritual tradition. Having inherited, maintained, upheld, and propagated their spiritual – i.e., ritualistic – traditions, the patricians can be said to have a family. Because they do not have spiritual roots, the plebeians lack a family in the sense Evola is using it. This implies that family is not a matter of blood but who can understand – gain knowledge of – carry out, maintain, and propagate the ritualistic traditions of the family, thus, becoming a family member. This spiritual root to the divine and the perpetuation of its rituals establishes the family and its members, not merely blood.
The traditional mode – and Haidt has identified a conservative preference for this qualification – instantiates hierarchy. For Evola, the hierarchy and order are the product of the traditional mode’s instantiation. Being, having established the Cosmos, when it is invested in a sovereign, ruler, emperor, king, or father, naturally establishes order. This order brings with it the organization of different men into different classes, which Evola clearly has a very complex and nuanced view of. For example, Evola does not see the mere inheritance of a class as sufficient to call oneself a member of that class; consider the Brahmana, for example. Those born into the Brahmana class must go through a ritualistic process to be considered legitimate Brahmana. He also argues that each class has a proper character that affects the substance of its members (i.e., their blood), giving them the fulfilling and meaningful position they’re best suited for. In this way, the solar king, establishing order, rectifies chaos by properly aligning its constituent parts around his stable core.
Yet the king’s station is not all butterflies and rainbows. The solar king’s role requires him to be stable, and confident; the axis upon which everyone else depends. This requires the development of proper character. The Osiris and Horus myth, as it relates to Egypt’s pharaoh – I think – best exemplifies this developmental trial, but the Eleusinian mystery cult’s rituals also highlight the importance of the developmental ceremony. In part, the king’s old self must die, he must be reborn, and then a proper investiture must be established. The Cosmic Lord must acknowledge his representative on Earth for the Solar King’s reign to be legitimate. In this way, having given himself up through a trial, abandoning his former self, the Self of Being inhabits him and he becomes his own son – hence the significance of Osiris and Horus.
The king’s ability to seize spiritual authority for himself puts him in conflict with the priestly caste. The solar king sees the priestly caste as an instantiation of the lunar, feminine, or chthonic realm. The church – as Evola’s main example of the priestly caste – has been in seemingly perpetual conflict with the traditional, fatherly mode of Being. In this critique of the Church, Evola highlights its advocacy for “human rights,” which he is very staunchly against as a traditionalist. Given Evola’s traditional weltanschauung, Evola sees “human rights” as antithetical to the solar mode of Being. Ironically, because of the Church’s advocacy for “human rights,” which it used to overthrow Europe’s kings (who embodied the Cosmic lord), it found itself at the hands of Enlightenment revolutionaries – e.g., during the French and Spanish revolutions. Effectively, Evola very keenly notes that the Church, seeking to usurp the Solar kings – because it is feminine, chthonic, and daemonic in its nature – manifests chaos and becoming because it cannot establish propitious rule and Being itself.
The solar king’s or father’s resistance against the chthonic or demonic realm – even feminine realm – manifested as the Church, means he’s in constant conflict with chaos. He, thus, has to use his spiritual prowess to subdue the feminine principle. He clearly cannot use religion to achieve this. Evola doesn’t seem to equate the spiritual with religion and goes out of his way to ensure that the reader understands the traditional man must use ritual – not dogmatic doctrines – to overcome the feminine force. This is why self-development, really ethical development, is so significant. The solar king, the traditional man must be willing to sacrifice himself – this, I think, is true. However, the feminine force tends to want the solar man to sacrifice himself to give itself power, which only results in chaos. The solar man’s self-sacrificial rituals connect him to the Cosmic lord and enable him to assert himself over the demonic realm of shadow. If the solar man succumbs to the Church’s demands, he condemns it to its destruction because he abandons his spiritual duties and brings chaos to his domain. If he wants to prevent chaos, he must uphold his spiritual duties and keep the Church in its place while properly organizing and defining the hierarchy he rules over to prevent its usurpation of him.
The father or sun king’s establishment of his social structure also instantiates two conceptions of the afterlife. The solar lords, the demigods, and heroes, having transfigured and overcome their chthonic or shadow-self, ascend upon death; they unify with the Being they have identified with and ritualistically woven themselves to their entire lives because they have instantiated His realm on Earth. Those who fail to adopt this mode or deny this mode’s legitimacy remain attached to the demonic realm. Evola suggests these figures return to the shadow realm of their ancestors, who are typically represented through the totem. These people, the majority of men, return to the eternal mother, the feminine realm, where they find comfort and numbness. Remarkably, this is similar to Goethe’s Helen, Euphorion, and Chorus. The Chorus, having done nothing of high remark in their lives, return to nature – they become fruit-bearing trees, life-giving waters, echoing cliffs, and vineyards that produce wine for merriment. Helen and Euphorion, on the other hand, reside in Hades' Elysium. Evola, having covered Chinese, Iranian, Greek, Roman, Egyptian, and Meso-American Cultures to derive his traditional constants, and having identified the pattern of the demos’ descent and patricians’ ascent in most of these cultures – if not all – is identifying something deeper than a merely socially constructed hierarchy. The fact that, cross-culturally, the majority is generally represented by some demonic force that descends into a shadow realm and identifies with this shadow realm can’t be a coincidence. Thus, the ascent of the heroic figure cannot be a mere coincidence either. But how might he ascend?
The lingam and yoni also represent the forces of Light and Darkness. Emboining lingam energy, the Kishatryia can become solar lords that inhabit both the priest’s and king’s roles. They achieve this – these warriors – through ascetic, self-development. The warrior – such as the Templar – tends to develop esoteric rituals that emphasize the self’s growth, specifically to unite the self with the eternal being, the eternal Self. Evola notes that the Templars’ tendency to pledge themselves to a lady is misconstrued as a demand that the knights pledge themselves to material women. While this may have been the case, apparently these knights pledged themselves to higher feminine principles, e.g., Wisdom, Knowledge, or Intelligence – i.e., Sophia. By pledging themselves to this feminine form (Sophia), they could develop and transcend themselves to bring order to the world through marital authority. The Church – if one isn’t aware – tended to take umbrage with this. In fact, the Church had the Templars killed as heretics. Ironically, without the Kshatriya, the Church would – and did (e.g., the Enlightenment revolution) – collapse and be destroyed. What is ironic is that the Church has teachings that demand it renounce worldly attachments. If this were the case, then why does the Church concern itself with the affairs of warriors? Why not give in to the warriors, submit to them, and follow their decrees? The Church – having overthrown the kings through its advocacy of “human rights” ensures its descent because it effectively usurps its spiritual authority by doing so. As it concerns God, who is Man to demand anything? I do not see a flaw in this logic. Either the Church does care about worldly affairs and will not sacrifice itself if it wants to hold onto those worldly things or it doesn’t care about worldly affairs and will sacrifice all of those worldly things. If it doesn’t sacrifice itself, it demonstrates its hypocrisy and demonic nature. Without a doubt, the warrior poses a problem for the feminine and lunar authorities, but without him, they only manifest chaos and their own destruction.
Evola’s analysis of the traditional mode is more descriptive than prescriptive. He’s not telling us how we ought to live or what mode we ought to adopt. Instead, Evola’s argument centers around the fact the modern world – and I wholeheartedly agree with him on this – is deeply corrupted and degenerated. The modern world is a world of representation, illusion, and deceit. But if we are to resist this world of illusion, what exactly should we fight for? If we are to resist this modern world of illusion, deceit, and representation, then we need something to fight for. That positive mode is the mode of Being, the traditional mode, the solar, masculine, and vital mode.
However, what rituals should a man living in this world of illusion adopt to connect himself to the transcendental? Again, I keep returning to ethical questions; questions about one’s character. If he genuinely wants to overcome the Modern World, the Western Man needs to adopt some ritualistic mode that allows him to develop himself and grow. This mode should require self-sacrifice but not annihilation. In fact, Evola strictly advocates against it using Buddhist teachings. This traditional ethical mode should also require physical recurrences and initiation practices that enable the self to go through a symbolic and spiritual expansion that transfigures and unites him with the transcendent. Evola doesn’t necessarily find this in religion. He sees this in spirituality. Still, what should this spirituality look like?
This is where the Church is useful if the solar man can give it its proper place. The Church has a body of traditions, rituals, and practices that can generate derivations that produce self-development in a man wrestling with the entropic tendencies of the modern and positivistic society he resides within. Still, he should have no qualms about resisting the Church’s demands. The Church is his, he is not the Church’s. It is there to serve him; he is not there to serve it nor is he there to carry out its political machinations disguised as religious exhortations. In its proper place, the Church can help the solar man develop himself, i.e., his character. In turn, he can protect it because it has served him and serves him, and -- using it to appropriately -- organize the world he lives within.
Once Man is ethically developed and capable of organizing the world around him he can establish something like an empire. The empire is not something to be disdained or reproached. The empire is the solar man’s goal. However, Evola is also very clear – he doesn’t think we should establish an empire by forcing the world to conform to our will, as the managerialists are extremely apt to do – simply read de Jouvenel or Burnham’s works if you’d like some lucid accounts of those horrors (especially of Liberal Managerialism). Instead – again – the solar man needs to properly organize society and classify society by providing each class with modes and rituals that enable each class to develop its character. Thus, in developing himself – caring for himself (epimeleia psuche – as Evola would describe it) – Man must, and as Foucault would also assert, understand himself and know himself. Knowing who you are and where you exist within the Great Chain of Being is fundamental if one wants to develop themselves or develop the character of his peers.
While the family is depicted as a social institution that extends beyond blood relations, the family – as it's defined genetically – could be used to understand one’s character. The family establishes a self-contained hierarchy, doles out roles to its members, discovers its limits by testing itself, and applies corrective measures to ensure its perpetuation. The family – as a microcosm of the empire – should, thus, serve as the foundation of a traditionalist society. The problem – once again – what rituals should contribute to the maintenance of this family unit? If one is searching for rituals, fire is a good start, as are self-defense and preservation, perhaps even horticulture, agriculture, arboriculture and their like, and hunting. Regardless, the rite or ritual must be given spiritual significance and – in its ceremonial performance – must creatively generate a new sense of self; i.e., it must contribute to the latent character of the individual who performs the rite. The family unit should, thus, feel free to explore here. I think new games and rituals of self-development must be generated. It is folly to rely on the past's rituals and rites when there is no direct teacher of those rites. The flame of those men, while existing in heaven, has long since quieted itself on Earth.
While I have not heavily touched on the concept of involution today, I plan on doing so in the future – when I feel I have a better grip on Evola’s work. Still, what seems to be evident about the concept is that Being – the traditional mode – serves as the keystone, bedrock, foundation, etc., for the world around it. When involution occurs, Becoming is mistaken for Being. The shadow realm sees itself as the foundation or the keystone upon which its institutions and body rotate. However, because becoming is a state of flux and flow, because it is chaotic and consuming, it is unstable. It cannot grasp the regal scepter because it cannot act as the axis upon which all else depends. For this reason, the traditionalist should focus on those things he can depend on. To escape from the eddying waters of the modern or postmodern world, whatever that means – even Foucault did not have a proper definition of this concept – man needs anchors; things that hold him down and instantiate a stable character. The feminine and lunar powers, which turn Man into mass man, perpetuate the degeneracy he should be turning from. Thus, he should renounce the feminine and lunar powers until he can subordinate them to his will and not let them control him. Until such time, he should be diligent enough to keep them beyond his grasp.
The philosopher is a physician of the soul. Evola clearly – like Foucault and Nietzsche – is one of those physicians. While he may not have gotten everything right, most philosophers do not, he has some extremely relevant insights for men dealing with the modern world. When Evola titled his book Revolt Against the Modern World, there can be no doubt that he meant it. As individuals ostracized by the feminine, chthonic, destructive, and chaotic postmodern world Man resides within, Evola points towards something worth fighting for. When the traditionalists’ opponents cannot articulate what they stand for, and when it becomes challenging to pin them down conceptually, this is not necessarily the fault of the intellectual tasked with this problem. Instead, the Left – as a manifestation of the demonic and shadow realm – has a nature that precludes it from being defined because it is chaos and Becoming. The greatest power the traditionalist has over the modernist – if anything – is that his fight, and thus Being, is eternal. He knows what he stands for if he’s a proper traditionalist. In reviewing Evola’s works, perhaps I shall clarify that point for myself and others.
Bibliography
Evola, J., Stucco, G. (translator), and Hansen, H.T. (introduction) (1995). Revolt Against the Modern World. Inner Traditions International.
