While White Noise music is explicitly designed to inspire racially or politically motivated violence and is seen as part and parcel of the revolutionary ultra-nationalist subculture, he suggests that ‘metapolitical fascism’ has its own cultural reflection in the domain of sound, namely, apoliteic music [employing a concept from Julius Evola -- TOQ Editor]. This is a type of music whose ideological message contains obvious or veiled references to the core elements of fascism but is simultaneously detached from any practical attempts to realize these elements through political activity. Apoliteic music neither promotes outright violence nor is publicly related to the activities of radical right-wing political organizations or parties. Nor can it be seen as a means of direct recruitment to any political tendency.

Shekhovtsov’s article focuses on this type of music, and the thesis is tested by examining bands and artists that work in such musical genres as Neo-Folk and Martial Industrial, whose roots lie in cultural revolutionary and national folk traditions.

From Traditionalists, December 3, 2009

Salvador Dali, "Crucifixion ('hypercubic Body')," 1954

Raymond Abellio claimed that the Flemish occultist S. U. Zanne (pseudonym of Auguste Van de Kerckhove) was amongst the greatest initiates of our time. But hardly anyone knows who he is. Some have placed Abellio in the same category — though he too is a great unknown for most. And those that have looked at Abellio, have largely concluded that he was a fascist politician, who was also interested in esoteric beliefs.

Is he? Part of the problem is that his writings — like that of so many alchemists — need a key. So much of their material is largely coded text, and Abellio himself used to laugh that most people’s keys “only opened their own doors” — not his. So who was he really, and what were his real political aims?

Raymond Abellio was the pseudonym of Georges Soulès (1907 – 1986), who rose to fame during the Second World War, when he became the leader of the MSR (Mouvement Social Révolutionnaire) in 1942, after the peculiar assassination of its leader, Eugène Deloncle. The invitation to join the organisation had come from none other than Eugène Schueller, owner of the cosmetics giant L’Oréal. As Guy Patton, author of Masters of Deception, has pointed out: “This group had evolved out of the sinister Comité Secret d’Action Revolutionaire (CSAR), also known as the Cagoule. Soules was now to become acquainted with Eugène Deloncle, head of the political wing, dedicated to secret, direct, and violent action.” Later, Patton adds: “So here we have a Socialist turned Fascist, deeply involved in political movements, who actively collaborated with the Vichy government. In the course of his political activities, he was to work closely with Eugène Deloncle, who . . . was closely acquainted with a fellow engineer, François Plantard, and whose niece married [French President Francois] Mitterrand’s brother, Robert.”

Raymond Abellio

Though never confirmed, it is claimed that Abellio was involved with Bélisane publishing, founded in 1973. Bélisane published several books on Rennes-le-Château, the village so intimately connected with the Priory of Sion. In his book, Arktos, Joscelyn Godwin refers to Raymond Abellio as another ‘Bélisane’ pseudonym. For Guy Patton, Abellio is part of a network that tried to create a New Europe, ruled by a priest-king, whereby various modern myths, like the Priory of Sion, are meant to provide the modern Westerner with a longing of sacred traditions and rule, very much like the myths of King Arthur that gave a surreal dimension to European politics in medieval times.

Abellio’s views of politics have therefore been described as very utopian, and he has been suspected of synarchist leanings -– the belief that the real leaders of the world were hidden from view, politicians being largely their puppets. But in truth, Abellio had a well-defined vision for social change. When the battle lines of the Cold War were drawn after the Second World War, he tried to find the best of both camps, and hoped he could reunite them. Why? To create a type of Eurasian Empire, stretching from the Atlantic to Japan, an idea that was taken up by the novelist, theoreticist and his friend Jean Parvulesco. “Parvu” has been identified as the man largely responsible for acquainting at least some with the visions of Abellio — though whether it was the real Abellio or a character created by Parvulesco, remains for some open to debate.

Guy Patton thus sums up Abellio’s view as being “typical of an extreme right-wing esotericism, the aim of which is to ‘renew the tradition of the West’. He wanted to replace the famous Republican slogan, ‘Liberty, Equality, Fraternity,’ with ‘Prayer, War, Work,’ to represent a new society built on an absolute hierarchy led by a king-priest.”

The implication, however, is that several of the people involved, were not truly devoted to such spiritualism and merely used it as a mask for making money, acquiring more power, and pushing an extreme right wing agenda. Though that is the case for many of those involved, within the mix of powerful and/or money-hungry people, most are agreed that Abellio was truly a “spiritual” man. And it was professor Pierre de Combas who is credited with Abellio’s transformation from politician Georges Soulès into the visionary Abellio (the Pyrenean Apollo), making him not merely a “man of power,” but also a “man of knowledge” — an initiate?

To understand his vision, we need to acknowledge that Abellio’s system, as mentioned, needs a key, and without a key, there is no understanding — hence, no doubt, why he is often misunderstood. Secondly, his system is complex and difficult to summarize in a few words and is perhaps best described by listing some examples.

He wanted to “de-occultise” the occult (e.g. his book The End of Esotericism, 1973), whereby he hoped this would help science. His knowledge of science — acquired as a polytechnic student — meant that he could build bridges between the two subjects, for example between the 64 hexagrams of the Yi-King and 64 codons of DNA, or the correspondences between the numbers of the Hebrew alphabet and the polygons that could be inscribed in a circle.

Jean Parvulesco

The most famous of his works is The Absolute Structure (1965), which made him be regarded as an heir to phenomenological philosopher Husserl. Such topics, of course, hardly make for bestsellers, but are the type of study one would expect from a genuine alchemist.

His drive for an “absolute structure” is a vital ingredient for his visions of the “Assumption of Europe,” i.e. what he sees as the destiny of Europe: “the Occident appears to us not to be only as an interval separating the opposing masses of the East and the West, but is the most advanced carrier of the dialectical of the present time.” In short, he did not believe in the subject-object duality that continues to drive most politicians into fear-mongering and the other usual tactics employed by their ilk, but instead preferred a more complex model, centered on Conscience (the zero point), which evolved along the base towards Quantity (science) and upwards to Quality (knowledge), which gave him a six-armed cross, or the “hypercubic” cross, to use Salvador Dali’s words — a man who equally spoke of the “Assumption of Europe” in some of his paintings. In short, the “hypercubic cross” allowed Abellio to express all ontological and spiritual problems in dynamic terms — and it is clear that he used complex wording, making his thinking difficult to understand, which is no doubt why he is easily misunderstood, was thought to be writing mumbo-jumbo, or simply neglected.

First of all, to get our heads around his terminology, we need to know that the Bible was one of Abellio’s most often consulted books and he described the stages of the evolution of a civilization in Christian terminology: birth, baptism, communion, etc. Hence why he said that the next stage in Europe’s development mimicked assumption, which is specifically linked with the Virgin Mary — the Saint who was deemed to play a pivotal part in Europe’s future. She is, of course, also a supernatural being, which was said to have appeared on numerous occasions, to advice Christian Europe what to do and what not, such as in the politically charged “secrets” of Fatima in 1917.

In 1947, in his book Towards a New Form of Prophecy, an Essay on the Political Notion of the Sacred and the Situation of Lucifer in the Modern World, he notes: “not more than any other being, man is but an addition, a juxtaposition of Spirit and Matter, but an accumulator and an energy transformator, of variable power according to the individual, and capable of passing his energetic quantity of one qualitative level to another, higher, or lower.” Thus, we see a mixture of Christian eschatology, prophecy, as well as quite Gnostic doctrines on what it is to be truly human.

Abellio was therefore a modern visionary, but he was also an astrologer. He predicted the fall of the Soviet Union for 1989, as well as the ascent of China. He qualified its Marxism as “Luciferian,” which he did not suggest should be interpreted in a moral sense, but that the Chinese materialism had to be integrated in terms of the Absolute Structure, in opposition to the individual and “Satanic” materialism of the United States.

In the West, it was the task of terrorists — freedom fighters — to bring about this change. These “heroic” terrorists’ battles were brought to life in his novels. In retrospect, he said that his first three novels were indeed “apprenticeships”, where his heroes evolved, whereas his final novel — published 24 years after The Pit of Babel (1962) — Motionless Faces (1986) was for him “that of the companion who is trying to become master.”

However, many consider The Pit of Babel to be his best work and it is here that he plots intellectuals that are disengaged from all forms of ideology and scruples engaging in wide-spread terrorism. It is a theme he revisited in Motionless Faces, where the primary character attempts to poison the population of New York, not through any straightforward means, but by using the creation of an illuminated architect who had built a type of “counter-structure” underneath Manhattan, which was reserved for an elite — a type of urban Aggartha.

The heroine of his last novel is named Helen, also — not coincidentally — the name of the companion of Simon Magus. In the end, she perishes, taken to the center of the earth by a subterranean stream, underneath Manhattan. In the case of Simon Magus, Helen was the personification of Light, held prisoner by matter. Abellio specifically chose his name because he identified himself with Apollo, another deity connected with light and the initials of Raymond Abellio — RA — were of course those of the Egyptian sun god.

Abellio himself never met his “ultimate woman,” even though he searched for her. She may have been Sunsiaré de Larcone, herself a writer of fantasies as well as a model, who died at the age of 27 in a car crash in 1962. She had labeled herself his disciple. Other — equally beautiful — women had gone before, and would go after, but no-one was apparently worthy of being “his” woman. Hence, his tomb contains an empty space for his “Lady.”

It is in Motionless Faces that Parvulesco studied in detail in his essay, “The Red Sun of Raymond Abellio,” published in 1987. Parvu was a novelist who is both close and far removed from Abellio. Close, because they shared a similar vision of the “Great Eurasian Empire of the End.” He too had his initiators, and he saw himself heir to the “Traditional School,” which had previously had authors such as René Guénon and Julius Evola, whom he met in the 1960s. He was preoccupied with the “non-being,” the forces of chaos, which make him into something of a dualist, i.e. a Gnostic. With Evola, he shared the idea that there was a need for a final battle against the counter-initiatory and subversive forces (the non-being), as well as having a certain desire for Tantrism.

Parvulesco often uses the term “Polar,” which he used to refer to the “polar fraternities” — of which Guénon had once been a member — and which he saw as important instruments in the creation of modern Europe. He also used the term to refer to the Hyperborean origins of the present cycle of humanity, which he argued would soon end with a polar reversal. Here, he is close to Guénon, but far from Abellio’s thinking, who had an altogether more optimistic vision of the future. So despite their kinship and a common goal, how that New Europe would be accomplished, was not identical — or compatible.

Parvulesco has often been cited by the European extreme right-wing. It has meant that several authors have seen him as one of them, but it is clear that no single writer is in charge of who and where his name is used.

In the early 1960s, “Parvu” was close to the OAS, the “Organisation Armée Secrète,” a terrorist group that was opposed to allowing Algeria to become independent. This meant that he was opposed to De Gaulle, yet he is largely known to have claimed everywhere he could that he was a strong supporter of De Gaulle. Incidents such as these have therefore made him another person that is difficult to place on the political landscape, and it would be best simply to not try and put him into one category. Indeed, what sets him and Abellio apart, is largely that they had an independent vision of the future — and the role of politics. They realized that the world was radically changing, and though their models might in the end prove not to work or be unrealizable, it does not negate the fact that they were innovative thinkers.

It is Parvulesco who brings further detail as to what this New Europe would be and why, specifically, a priest-king is needed as its ruler. In ancient times, these rulers were primarily seen as a denizen of both worlds, a mediator between this reality and the divine realm and Parvulesco makes it clear that “the beyond” is guiding us towards Europe’s destiny, whereby the role of European leaders is first and foremost to correctly interpret the signs, rather than invent new goals and targets.

Parvu has a few constant themes running through his writings, one of them being that of gateways to other dimensions. Whenever historical people (most often politicians) make appearances in his novels, they are not the politicians we know, but their doubles, who evolve in our and another dimension. The novels of Parvulesco are hence often seen as those of the “eternal present” or the “ninth day.”

In Rendez-vous au manoir du Lac, the setting is a strange site where there is a gateway to heaven — Venus in particular — from where, according to Parvulesco, some chosen ones have to transit. In En attendant la junction de Vénus, he repeats this claim, but links it with Mitterrand and specifically the Axe Majeur of Cergy-Pontoise, near Paris. This axis is the creation of artist Dani Karavan and is the “soul” of this new town. It stretches for three kilometres and, if ever archaeologists were to stumble upon its remains in future centuries, it would be classified as a leyline. Though the project commenced before Mitterrand’s presidency, it was during his term in office that the line became properly defined and executed. Today, it is seen — in France — as an enigmatic work, far superior to the Louvre Pyramid or Arche de la Défense, which has set the likes of Dan Brown and Robert Bauval questioning the reasons behind these projects. The Axe, however, is a far more ambitious, greater and more enigmatic project. When we note that Abellio was closely associated with the Mitterrand family, we can merely ponder whether he had a hand in the project.

With the Axe Majeure, it is clear that we are in a strange world where politics and esoterica mingle, partly in this dimension and partly in a divine realm. Well, Abellio hoped that from this mixture, a new form of politics, and a New Europe, would arise. And it is here where we need to see the role of the Priory of Sion, not so much — as Dan Brown and others would like it — as the preservers of a sacred, old bloodline, but a new priesthood — a mixture of politician and esotericist, i.e. like Abellio himself — that can rule a New Europe.

So even though Abellio and Parvulesco have been described as synarchists, they repeatedly referred to themselves as terrorists — freedom fighters, laying the foundation for this New World. The new powerbrokers would not always remain hidden puppet masters, but would clearly one day step to the forefront, to take up the role of priest-king. And for such thinkers, it was a given that France had come closest to attaining this ideal under De Gaulle, whereby the “Great Work” of Mitterrand was seen along the same lines, though clearly not to the same extent, or drive.

Abellio and Parvulesco were therefore new agers, building “An Age of Aquarius”: however, they did not focus on personal transformation, but on social transformation. As an author, one might argue that Parvulesco operates within the domain of the “esoteric thriller,” which in Hollywood is visualized like Roman Polanski’s The Ninth Gate or Umberto Eco’s Foucault’s Pendulum. But both works have great difficulty in convincingly integrating the “passage to another world” within their storyline, often leaving the reader/viewer unsatisfied, or — alternatively — unconvinced of the end goal. Lovecraft has a better reputation and others argue that Parvulesco, thanks to the influence of both Abellio and Dominique de Roux, has gone further, and done better. But the main point is that his esoteric thrillers were to make this step through this “interdimensional passage” not as an individual, but as a society — as Europe.

De Roux (1935 – 1977) was a great inspiration for novelists that evoked what is known as “novels of the End” –  however they visualized that transformation of Europe. Parvulesco actually began his literary career in the magazine Exil, published by de Roux. De Roux traveled widely, and in 1974 wrote The Fifth Empire, about the struggle for independence in Portugal’s colonies, which brings up the same struggle for a new future of a country. The title The Fifth Empire is an allusion to a popular Portuguese myth, namely that of the lost king. Like King Arthur, the Portuguese king Dom Sebastian was said to one day return, to lead his people to a fabulous destiny — which, as can be expected in light of Abellio and Parvulesco’s ideology, was not necessarily of this plane. To quote the Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa (a friend of Aleister Crowley): “We have already conquered the sea, there only remains for us to conquer the sky and leave the earth for others.”

What Algeria and De Gaulle had been for Abellio, what Portugal was for De Roux, Putin’s Russia was for Parvulesco. But it is in Abellio’s preface to The Fifth Empire that we find an interesting note that explains the true context and “key” that will unlock their works: “those who attach a profound meaning to coincidences cannot be but stricken by the fact that the last message of Fatima was delivered in October 1917, at the moment when the Bolshevik Revolution begun. What subtle link of the invisible history was thus established between the two extremities of Europe?”

For esotericists who saw our dimension as being infiltrated by the other plane of existence, the coincidences of the apparitions of the Virgin Mary at Fatima and her clearly political messages, to do with the future of Russia and how it should embrace the Virgin Mary, are part and parcel of how this Great Europe was not merely a political ambition, but part of their vision as to how “real politicians” worked together in league with the “denizens of the otherworld,” so as to accomplish the Assumption. Hence why Parvulesco held Putin’s Russia to be so important. Hence why, no doubt, Abellio tried to make contact with the Soviets to enable this New Europe, which indeed has come about largely under Putin’s presidency.

As mentioned, for Guy Patton, Abellio and Parvulesco were largely Fascists, who abused newly created myths like that of the Priory of Sion, to exert their influence, make money and group power. But that, of course, is merely one interpretation. Take the literature of the Priory and its creator Pierre Plantard and we find that he was close to De Gaulle’s regime. Plantard was in fact responsible for running part of De Gaulle’s “terrorist cells” in Paris when De Gaulle was trying to get to power. Then, Plantard used the Priory to create an ideology that saw a unified Europe, from the East to the West, and it is clear that those involved in the promotion of the Priory later spoke of the importance of Francois Mitterrand.

The Priory is indeed a fabricated myth, a non-existent secret society. But it is equally clear that those involved (Plantard) and those that could be linked with it (Abellio, and to some extent Parvulesco), had genuine convictions of what a future Europe should be. It is equally clear that their interest in Marian apparitions was genuine, and that they saw them as divine guides along the path that Europe had to walk to its future and its next stage, its assumption. And as Parvulesco pointed out: it depends whether you believe in coincidences or not. If not, then you will argue that the major political events of the past century are but tangentially related to the messages received from these apparitions and which are subsequently shuttled to the Vatican (to some extent, together with the British queen, the only priest-king ruling in Europe at the moment). If you do believe that coincidences have meaning, then it is clear that this New Europe is slowly emerging.

In the 1980s, Parvulesco reviewed a strange novel, La boucane contre l’Ordre Noir, ou le renversement, by one “Father Martin,” who had already published “livre des Compagnons secrets. L’enseignement secret du Général de Gaulle.” For an avowed Gaullist, Parvu was obviously in his element. The novel itself has certain common points with one volume of the tetralogy of Robert Chotard, Le grand test secret de Jules Verne. Both books speak of a “reserved region” in Canada, from where there is a conspiracy directed to change the world’s climate. The base is controlled by the sinister “Black Order” and aims to create a pole reversal — a theme also explored by Jules Verne. We can only wonder whether the stories of HAARP — set in nearby Alaska — might be inspired, or reflective, of this. But it is here that we see the final framework of their political ambition: they saw their quest not so much as a desire, a longing, but as a genuine struggle of good versus evil: if a New Europe did not come, the “Black Order” would have won. And in the end, perhaps Abellio and Parvulesco should thus be seen as modern knights, fighting for Europe — a new Europe.

This article appeared in New Dawn, vol. 10, no. 11 (November – December 2008).

Kdo by měl vládnout?

Každý den, když si prohlížím internetové zpravodajství a diskusní servery, vidím, že otázka, jak by se měla rekrutovat skutečná vládnoucí elita, je ostrým bodem sváru mezi politickými komentátory. Až dosud jsem neměl osobně k problematice příliš co říci. Nechci ostatním vnucovat svůj názor. Být politikem by nevyhovovalo mé spíše introvertní povaze, je to úkol, který radši přenechám jiným. Bude lepší se tedy skutečně podívat na podstatu věci, než pokračovat v kypění debat bez znalosti patřičných souvislostí.

Zastánci Nietzscheho

Jak zde jistě každý bude vědět, zastánci a příznivci filosofa Friedricha Nietzscheho jsou jeho zanícenými obdivovateli a poněkud nezvykle interpretují teorie svého vzoru. Věří v kastovní systém kněží, válečníků a rolníků (dělníků), sami sebe jako součást úzké skupinky vyvolených, kteří by tvořili vládnoucí elity ve vysněném etnicky homogenním státě. Každý z nich věří, že každý člověk má svou niternou podstatu, panskou nebo otrockou, dominantní, či submisivní a od tohoto základu odvozují morální systém, korespondující s prvotním rozdělením lidí na silné a slabé. Tak jako Nietzsche hlásal „panskou morálku“, jeho zastánci chtějí o tom, kdo bude vládnout, rozhodovat „vyšší typ člověka“ a skoncovat s liberální demokracií.

Zastánci Thomase Jeffersona

Ve Spojených státech představují tito lidé nejpočetnější část konzervativních a národních kruhů. Z jejich pohledu je nejlepší vláda ta, která má nejmenší moc. Na americkém systému nespatřují apriorně nic špatného. Věří ve stát a lokální vládu a instinktivně oponují shromažďování moci ve Washingtonu. Jeffersonovi zastánci by rádi přičetli úpadek porodnosti a civilizační pokles korumpujícími tlaku vnějších sil, jmenovitě Židů (či Izraeli) a argumentují, že rozumná rasová politika (založená na odmítnutí imigrace, pozn. překl.) by například mohla po odstranění této rakoviny vyvést Ameriku ze společenských potíží. V jeffersoniánském systému by byla vládnoucí elita delegována lokálními volby a hromaděním národního bohatství.

Zastánci Alexandra Hamiltona

Podobně jako zastánci Jeffersona, tak i zastánci pojetí AlexanderaHamiltona stále věří v republikánskou (samo)vládu, ale na rozdíl od prvně jmenovaných preferují silný, centralizovaný stát, oslabující lidský individualismus. Namísto volného obchodu, požadují „America First“, tedy víceméně soběstačnou obchodní politiku. Zastánci Hamiltona podporují silný veřejný sektor a regulovaný trh s cílem zabezpečit rovnocennou distribuci bohatství. Věří, že ústavní reformy mohou zbrzdit, nebo zastavit kulturní a etnický úpadek západní civilizace. Vládnoucí elitu by formovaly volby a akumulace bohatství v soukromé sféře.

Libertariáni

Libertariáni jsou podmnožinou zastánců Jeffersona, kteří věří v minimální stát. Tvrdí, že jediná funkce státu, která by měla příslušet státu, je ochrana práv jednotlivce: čili policie, armáda a soudy. Libertariáni odmítají veškeré pokrokářství devatenáctého století ve jménu individuální svobody. V ideálním libertariánském státě by se vládnoucí elita legitimizovala skrze participaci na tržní ekonomice a jako vládnoucí moc by byla omezena striktní Ústavou.

Fašisté

Fašisté (zahrnující nacionální socialisty a další různorodé odrůdy fašismu) požadují autoritativní stát v čele s mocným vůdcem s pokud možno absolutní mocí. Rádi by se zřekli liberální demokracie a nahradili ji vládou hierarchizované, režimu věrné byrokracie. Tato koncentrace moci a síly by byla užita ke zbavení se pro fašistický stát nežádoucích elementů (různých politických odpůrců, etnických skupin – Židů, atp.). Vládnoucí stav by se delegoval z vládnoucí strany, jejíž představitelé by zároveň tvořili lídry establishementu.

Platonisté

Nemohu najít lepšího slova, ale „Platonisté“ jsou v zásadě ti, kdo obhajují pravidla, stanovená Vládcem. Vládci budou vybírání na základě svého chování a morální hodnoty.

Konzervativní nacionalisté

Konzervativní nacionalisté věří v silnou, obrozenou vládu Christianitas. V podstatě to znamená, že požadují stát, postavený na hodnotách Evangelia. Někteří konzervativní nacionalisté preferují republiku, jiní monarchii, někteří teokratickou diktaturu. Ve všech případech je vládnoucí vrstva úzce spjata se zbožností.

Monarchisté

Požadují vládu krále a dědičné aristokracie. Vládnoucí vrstva je odvozena z královské krve.

Anarchisté

Chtějí zcela odstranit jakoukoli vládu. V jimi navrhovaném stavu není žádná vláda, politika neexistuje a stejně tak žádný mechanismus pro selekci elit. V beztřídní společnosti jsou si všichni teoreticky rovni.

Kde stojím já?

Po tomto výčtu nezbývá než zformulovat vlastní odpověď na vytyčenou otázku.
Politicky někde mezi Hamiltoniány a Platonisty. Domnívám se, že vláda může být dobrým silovým prostředkem v situaci, kdy potřebujeme mít silný stát k odvrácení invaze masového přistěhovalectví. Republikánský systém je osvědčený model pro zajištění kontinuity a mírovou výměnu moci. Myslím, že bychom nebyli moudří, kdybychom se těchto jistot vzdávali ve jménu některých vratkých idejí, vyjmenovaných výše.

Nejhorší aspekty republikanismu však spočívají v obchodovatelnosti s ústavními principy. Osobně například nevěřím v rovnost volebního práva. V mé osobní, hypotetické, ideální republice, by bylo případnému rozšíření volebního práva vyhověno jen za určitých podmínek. Volič by musel být inteligentní, kompetentní a mít určité morální minimum, postačující k tomu, aby využil privilegia generovat svou volbou vládnoucí elitu. Také vládnoucí vrstva by měla více moci než „lid“.

Z morálního (nikoli tedy politického) hlediska mě v těchto otázkách ovlivnil Alasdair MacIntyre. Stejně jako on, i já věřím, že morálka má smysl vždy pouze v určitém kontextu etablovaných tradic. Na světě máme celou řadu morálních řádů, každý z nich má vlastní historii, každý z nich vzešel z odlišných předpokladů a odlišných počátků. Je nemožné snažit se najít společný jmenovatel ideální vlády mezi nesouměřitelnými tradicemi a sdílenými morálkami jednotlivých společností.

Myslím, že současný stav západní morálky se stal obětí katastrofy, popsané MacIntyrem v předmluvě knihy „After Virtue“: ovládáme pouze malé části našeho koherentního morálního systému, termíny, které ztratily svůj kontext, když se jednou stali hodnověrnými a že racionálně uvažující jedinci jsou odkloněni do nihilismu tímto zmatkem. Nejsou zde žádné univerzální, objektivně platné morální principy analogické zákonům vědy. Namísto toho se morální filosofie stala praktickou vědou a popřela tak své poslání, o kterém hovořil Aristoteles: je to návod k tomu, jak realizovat daný ideál dobra. Jinými slovy, věřím tomu, že morálka (na jakémkoli stupni a v jakékoli společnosti), je redukovatelná na dobro. To je ale pro jinou diskusi.

To byly mé odpovědi. A jaké jsou vaše?

Avant-Garde Fascism: The Mobilization of Myth, Art, and Culture in France, 1909–1939

Mark Antliff, a professor of Art, Art History, and Visual Studies at Duke University, has put together a useful analysis of the cultural-aesthetic memes utilized by French fascists of 1909-1939 to promote their visions of national renewal. Antliff’s analysis focuses on the connection between fascist ideologies and the European avant-garde, which most people would more likely associate with the anti-national left. Antliff is fairly even handed in the book, with the occasional use of scare quotes to express his skepticism/disdain for certain “fascist ideas.”

In contrast, I believe his use of the term “democracy” should always have scare quotes, as “democratic” systems deceive the populace into believing that someone other than self-interested elites are running the show; however, apparently, Antliff and I disagree on our political preferences. Antliff also concludes the book with a line about how the ideas of the French fascists were not able to stem the tide of the “bloodshed” caused by the military aggressions of Hitler and Mussolini (including the invasion of France). Very well. One hopes an academic will write about the real blood that has been shed imposing “equality” on “the people” – either that of the mass-murdering Marxists or the genocidal globalist multiculturalists and their plans for a multiracial West. So much for my complaints about the book. What about fascism and avant-garde aesthetics?

Roger Griffin, in his Fascism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995), famously described fascism as “palingenetic populist ultra-nationalism” – making the elements of renewal, rebirth, and regeneration central to all permutations of this ideology. It is also important to differentiate between real fascism and “para-fascist” ersatz fascism. Para-fascism is often confused with real fascism in the public mind, which gives the false impression that fascism is ossified reactionary conservatism, rather than a revolutionary movement interested in avant-garde themes and ideas.

The differences between real revolutionary fascism and para-fascism are easily summarized: Para-fascist regimes are authoritarian, traditionalist, reactionary regimes, often military dictatorships, that fossilize a status quo favoring traditional elites of business, nobility, religion, and the military. Such regimes want nothing to do with the revolutionary and palingenetic aspects of true fascism; the idea that the secular religious, Futuristic, and avant-garde characteristics of, say, (early) Italian Fascism has anything to do with Franco’s Spain or Pinochet’s Chile is absurd.

Indeed, as Griffin makes clear, fascists and para-fascists are usually, by their very nature, bitter enemies. While para-fascists may co-opt some superficial characteristics of their fascist opponents, in power they tend to ruthlessly suppress the expression of revolutionary fascism. When para-fascism attempts to co-opt fascism by sharing power – as Antonescu attempted in Romania with the Legionaries — conflict is inevitable, since the objectives of the two parties are completely different: para-fascist ossification vs. fascist palingenetic regeneration. Thus, in Romania, civil war between para-fascists and fascists led to the victory of the para-fascists, and the exile of the fascist forces. The idea that Antonescu was “fascist” is a byproduct of either ideological ignorance or ideological mendacity, a Marxist desire to strip their fascist competitors of revolutionary dynamism and reduce them to mere “bourgeois hooligans.”

Not all fascisms were equally “fascist” and revolutionary, and even individual fascist movements have oscillated between revolutionary ideals and borderline reactionary para-fascism.

For example, Italian fascism went through three distinct phases. In the years before the seizure of power and in the first half-dozen years of Mussolini’s regime, Italian fascism was in its “purest” form – revolutionary and palingenetic – emphasizing the regeneration of the Italian people and the Italian nation-state. Avant-garde themes and theorists, particularly Futurism, were important in this period, and individuals such as Marinetti were influential in early day Italian fascism.

However, the forces of reaction and of compromise with the establishment were always present; the presence of the King and the Vatican were two impediments to the process of “fascistization” that Mussolini could not, or would not, deal with. In the end, the Concordat was a turning point and the regime’s second phase veered to the “right” in the 1930s, becoming more conservative and reactionary, replacing internal regeneration with external imperialism. Without WW II, chances were good that Italian fascism would have degenerated into a stagnant para-fascist regime similar to that of Franco’s Spain.

Military defeat and the overthrow of Il Duce stopped that process; in the last and third phase of Italian fascism, the “Salo Republic,” the ideology shifted to the left, embracing a militant socialism, and becoming overtly pan-European in scope.

What about the Hitler and the Nazis? There has been some debate as to whether German National Socialism was a form of fascism. It seems to me obvious that it was; that differences existed between the Italian and German forms of fascism is not an argument against that conclusion. All genuine fascisms displayed important differences, yet still contained within themselves the core components of Griffin’s “palingenetic populist ultra-nationalism.”

In the case of National Socialism, the palingenesis was biological; Nazism was a heavily racialized and materialist form of fascism. The German National Socialists were tribalistic in worldview rather than Futurist, and, internal debates aside; Hitler himself was very hostile to the European avant-garde.

Thus, key differences between fascist forms are observed. The German brand had the biopolitical advantage of recognizing the importance of race. On the other hand, the Italian brand had the sociopolitical advantage of a more optimistic Futurist orientation, and was more open-minded with respect to tapping into the cultural energies created by the avant-garde artistic and sociopolitical movements extant in the first decades of the twentieth century.

In some sense, perhaps the “purest” brand of fascism was that of Codreanu and his “Legion of the Archangel Michael,” also known as the Iron Guard. This intensely palingenetic movement emphasized spiritual and moral regeneration to create a Romanian “New Man” to lead the nation to a higher level and fulfill the destiny of the Romanian people. This highly “virulent” form of “palingenetic populist ultra-nationalism” proved itself unable to co-exist with Antonescu’s conservative authoritarian para-fascism; the Legionary movement’s attempt to seize full power for itself (rather than share it with para-fascists; this sharing was correctly seen by the Legionaries as being an emasculating compromise of their ideology) was crushed by the para-fascist military apparatus.

Three fascisms, three different movements. But the revolutionary energies unleashed by these ideologies stand in sharp contrast to the moribund and ossified conservatism of the para-fascists. The political/cultural avant-garde (Italian), the biological-racialist (German), and the spiritual/moral (Romanian) components of these fascisms are important to us today.

And it is probably wrong to separate out the avant-garde mindset as being only applicable to the political/cultural sphere. After all, we really do need new, cutting-edge memes with respect to both materialist race and non-materialist morality. To quote a certain pro-fascist poet: “Make it new!”

With respect to Antliff’s book itself, chapter topics include Sorelian myth and anti-Semitism, and the fascistic politics of Valois, Lamour, and Maulnier. The importance of Sorelian myth was underscored by a recent Michael O’Meara piece that appeared on TOQ Online. Antliff stresses that culture and aesthetics were extremely important to Sorel in his quest to formulate a doctrine of instrumentally utilizing myth to overturn the hated rationalist-capitalist-democratic system. Art is part of this aesthetic emphasis and, truth be told, Sorel focused on culture over politics; indeed, he was scornful of the power of the myth being used and squandered for low-level political aims.

Further, Sorel went through a distinctly “anti-Semitic” phase, in which Jews were considered the exemplars of ultra-rationalist anti-creators, whose worldview set them in opposition to native peoples and native cultural expressions and aesthetics. Opposing the pro-Dreyfus “French” journal La revue blanche, Sorel sarcastically referred to the journal’s Jewish founders as “two Jews come from Poland in order to regenerate our poor country, so unhappily still contaminated by the Christian civilization of the seventeenth century.” Sorel accused Jewish intellectuals of wanting to promote an abstract (i.e., non-ethnic, non-national, non-cultural) concept of (French) citizenship and to also promote “cosmopolitan anarchy.”

Related to this “anti-Semitism,” Sorel admired and promoted the Classical World; the values of classical heroes, such as the Greeks at Thermopylae, were something counterpoised against the Jewish ethic and the degeneration of parliamentary democracy.

Sorel considered art as related to the creativity of work, a creativity that he wished to inculcate into the “productive workers” in place of assembly line mass capitalism and rationalized “one man-one vote” democracy. He also considered an enlightened “proletariat” as being able to reinvigorate a stagnant bourgeoisie through class conflict.

Georges Valois, 1878–1945

Georges Valois (born Alfred-Georges Gressent) went through a wide variety of ideological contortions in his lifetime, from fascism to “libertarian communism,” ending up dying in a Nazi concentration camp after being captured as a member of the “French Resistance.” While such an unbalanced individual represents much of what is wrong with the “movement” (changing your mind is one thing – completely switching your worldview from one moment to the next is another), some of his activities during his “fascist stage” are of interest.

Particularly enlightening is the focus on the urbanism of Le Corbusier, which stands in contrast to much of the American “movement” and its anti-urbanist emphasis on militant ruralism. No doubt, in the West today, the city is an anti-white, anti-Western disaster, full of racial enemies. No doubt as well that throughout much of human history, the city was an unhealthy and sterilizing place, inimical to racial survival and racial progress.

However, in our modern technological age, if we can solve our racial problems, the city itself does not necessarily have to be a racial evil. As part of a natural continuum of human ecologies – isolated rural, rural, suburban/town, small city, larger cities, etc. – the city may play an important role in the Futurist racial ethnostate of tomorrow, a place of technological advancement, racially healthy avant-garde memes, and sociopolitical dynamism. Racial nationalism can and should be reconciled to a certain degree of urbanism – not the urbanism of degeneration, but that of regeneration.

This of course underlies a schism within activism that often goes unnoticed – between modernist, technological tribalist-racialist Futurism and a ruralist anti-technological ecotribalism. It is clear that the French fascists described by Antliff for the most part fall into the first group. Thus, a major divide exists between the Futurist-Modernist fascists (think Marinetti in Italy) and the ruralist soil-oriented romantic past-oriented fascists (think Darre in Germany, or the agrarian-nostalgic Vichy regime in France).

Of course, a healthy society needs both worldviews, and in practical terms a balance is required. For example, Valois incorporated a “love for the native soil” along with his Futurist mindset. Indeed, Valois contrasted “Asiatic nomadness” associated with communism with the “Latin sedentary” style — derived from “cultured Roman legions” — of the French, tied to the native soil and inclined to fascism. He also associated the hated nomadic lifestyle with capitalism, since hyper-rational capitalism uprooted the workers from grounding in an organic society and turned them into atomized, rootless “nomads.”

A related issue is the relationship between Futurism and the veneration of the past. Antliff makes clear that the emphasis on the past in fascism (e.g., the Greco-Roman classical world) was not meant to mean turning back the clock and shunning progress. Instead, this look to the past was, paradoxically, futurist, in that the fascists wanted to take from the past certain noble values and behaviors and use these to help build the modern, technological world of tomorrow. Therefore, one need not discard the past to build a new future, but judiciously use elements of the past as necessary building blocks for the projected futurist edifice. Different strands of fascist thought need not be incompatible, just as common ground must be found between the tribalist futurist and tribalist ruralist strands of modern racial nationalist thought.

Another French fascist, Philippe Lamour, also went through many ideological “twists and turns,” ultimately rejecting fascism in favor of anti-fascism and syndicalism. Lamour originally represented the fascist variant of “machine primitivism” – that is, an anti-rationalist “new consciousness attuned to the dynamism of technology.” Thus, urban industrialism, technology, productivity, and futurist modernism need not be associated with “rational” egalitarianism but with tribalistic fascism. Lamour wished to create a “community of producers” integrating the different classes of French society to overturn liberal democracy in favor of a modernist technologically dynamic fascist state.

Early French fascists such as Lamour also promoted the idea of a European federation, and attempted to make common cause with more pan-European and “leftist” German National Socialists, such as the Strasserian “Black Front,” who favored European cooperation as opposed to Hitler’s hegemony through military conquest. Not coincidentally, before he fell into Hitler’s orbit, Mussolini also favored an alliance of European (fascist) states, promoted through the doctrine of “Roman Universality,” with practical expression through events such as the pan-fascist Montreux conference.

Lamour’s greatest contribution to French fascism was the promotion of the “conflict of generations,” pitting the younger fascistic generation of WW I against the older generation of parliamentary democrats. This latter group was seen as being out of touch with the new age of national regeneration, avant-garde culture and politics, Sorelian myth, as well as technological productivity. Lamour and his “war generation” were at the forefront of the battle of youth vs. the image of fossilized reactionary status quo politicians.

Aesthetically, the work of German artist Germaine Krull and even Soviet filmmaker Sergei Eisenstein influenced the avant-garde sensibilities of “machine primitive” young French fascists such as Lamour. Antliff summarizes Lamour’s unique contribution to the ideology of interwar French fascism as the melding of “machine aesthetics” to the concept of generational warfare. Thus, to Lamour, technological dynamism and the replacement of the ossified previous generation with fresh youth were the Sorelian myths required to spark an era of national renewal.

Thierry Maulnier, 1908–1988

Thierry Maulnier (born Jacques Talagrand), author of “Crisis Is in Man,” had as his concept of Sorelian myth “classical violence.” Within the journal Combat, Maulnier and colleagues opposed the leftist French Popular Front’s Marxist-themed “culture” with their own view of aesthetics in architecture and sculpture. Antliff describes Combat’s as focusing on “three interrelated spheres: political institutions, human spirituality, and aesthetics.” The classicism of the Maulnier school promoted the idea of a “synthesis of Dionysian energy and Apollonian restraint.”

Politically, Maulnier wished for a form of French fascism that rejected parliamentary democracy but which still supported the rights and aspirations of the individual, as opposed to what was perceived as the more authoritarian and collectivist societies of Fascist Italy and National Socialist Germany. These distinctions between French and other fascisms became more salient after Mussolini fell into Hitler’s orbit and became hostile to French national interests. Indeed, before the start of WW II, Maulnier advocated a “minimal fascist program” for France that would be both a short-term “fix” to bolster the French military for confrontation with the Axis, as well as preparation for the long-term and permanent fascistic remodeling of society after the Axis threat had dissipated.

It must be noted that the Valois, Lamour, and Maulnier fascist ideologies, while linked together by a palingenetic call for national renewal and a rejection of parliamentary democracy, did differ in important ways. In particular, the classicism of Maulnier can be contrasted with the militant futurism and “machine primitivism” of Lamour. Although Antliff stresses that the French fascist focus on the classical world does not necessarily imply a rejection of modernism per se, the specific differences between Maulnier and Lamour were the greatest of any of the individuals profiled by Antliff. Valois and Lamour both embraced the image of “industrial production” as a central motif of their ideology; however, while Lamour spun together a myth of generational conflict, Valois instead emphasized a “spirit of victory” in which the heroism of WW I will now be turned to a battle of the entire nation to create an organized fascist-industrial society. Of these three men, it was Lamour who was the most steadfastly “avant-garde” in cultural-aesthetic orientation, Maulnier the least.

Crude ethnic stereotyping may lead one to conclude that an emphasis on art, culture, and aesthetics in the creation of fascist ideology was (and is) a particularly “French” phenomenon. Of course, other fascist movements were concerned with these issues, sometimes to a significant extent, but none of them incorporated such memes into the core of the political thinking as did French fascist thinkers. Indeed, the cultural-aesthetic emphasis of the French strain of fascism is a breath of fresh air after immersion in the more focused political thought of the Italian Fascists and the racialist ideals of the German National Socialists.

In fact, all three areas of focus – cultural-aesthetic, political, and racialist – are required for a complete memetic complex to promote fascistic ideals. As a biological reductionist, I would emphasize the racialist first of all, but doing so with respect to modern genetic science rather than the sort of quackery that passed as “racial science” under the Nazis. However, biological racialism by itself is not enough. Without an edifice of political and cultural-aesthetic memes, the foundation of ultimate interests will go nowhere.

Related to this issue of political aesthetics, I was impressed by Alex Kurtagic’s analysis of “semiotic systems” and the importance of style in shaping perceptions of status within nationalist memes. This is important. Of course, the enemy will, as a matter of course, attempt to oppose this approach through co-option and/or mockery.

Co-option is a problem for any memetic threat to establishment power; for example, the GOP has effectively co-opted “rightist, racist” concerns through the exploitation of “implicit whiteness.” This strategy has enabled the Republicans to retain white support while at the same time moving continuously leftward in the direction of overtly anti-white policies.

Thus, while aesthetics and style are important, they always must be innately linked to content to prevent the establishment from utilizing the same semiotic systems to promote the exact opposite of our objectives. Dealing with co-option will be difficult, and it is crucially important that the problem be analyzed from the beginning in a proactive fashion.

In other words, right from the start, the construction of unique avant-garde racial-nationalist semiotic systems must incorporate strategies for preventing co-option and dealing with co-option if these preventive measures fail. Therefore, we must identify, in advance, as many problems with each approach as possible, and develop multiple contingency plans for dealing with each emergent counter-move of the establishment.

Mockery is also a problem; the establishment, utilizing its control of the mass media and its stable of celebrity puppets, can subject any racial-nationalist semiotic system to a barrage of withering ridicule. It is important that the elitist and superior nature of the system be of sufficient strength that adherents can turn around such ridicule and assert it as a matter of pride and not shame. In other words, the establishment ridicule itself must be mocked as the pathetic attempts of a dying and out-of-touch system to delegitimize a novel movement of which they are afraid.

Again, careful planning is required to plan against the establishment’s ridicule strategy, but if both co-option and mockery can be successfully dealt with, the semiotic-aesthetic strategy has a chance to achieve its objectives. And those objectives are, in essence, to defuse the “social pricing” attacks of the establishment against racial-nationalist activists and adherents, by providing an alternative value system opposed to, and independent of, establishment standards and acceptance.

In summary, Antliff has dissected a particularly interesting and heretofore unexplored strain of French fascism characterized by an embrace of avant-garde cultural concepts, modernism, Futurism, productivity and the planned society, urbanism and industrial technology, exemplified by so-called “machine primitivism.”

With today’s worries of “peak oil,” and concerns that the multiracial West will collapse, visions of decentralized ruralistic tribalism have again become prominent in nationalist thought. However, the white man is endlessly inventive, and free of the shackles of genocidal globalist multiculturalism, the technological genius of whites, so unleashed, may provide the foundation for a Futurist, technologically advanced and tribalist society. Such a society would have options for both the urbanist technological and ruralist agrarian lifestyles for those whose preferences are for one or the other.

Although I am sure he is an “anti-fascist,” Antliff’s work helps us to consider one technological Futurist option. The major conclusion from both Antliff’s and Kurtagic’s analyses is that staid and conformist methods for sociopolitical activism may be best replaced, at least in part, by avant-garde memes that let some “fresh air” into stale “movement” environs.