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Degenerate art Feminism Kali Yuga Music

Epigrams and arrows

Why is the white nationalist movement fraudulent? Because white nationalists don’t really believe in their own shit:

• Any “nationalist” who says he hates Hitler is a phony white nationalist

• Any “nationalist” who says he supports homos is a phony white nationalist

• Any “nationalist” who promotes pop music is a phony white nationalist

• Any “nationalist” who embraces feminism is a phony white nationalist

• Any “nationalist” ignorant of the history of Europe is a phony white nationalist

How many are there in the American scene that hate Hitler or accept the homo agenda or listen popular music (this includes gyms) or accept women in what should be boys only clubs or are reluctant to learn basic facts about the Old World that allowed the New World in the first place?

If these guys are the cream of the Aryan people… you guys must be in good shape! Consider these epigrams and arrows taken from the site of Iranian for Aryans:


§ The sign of the times is degeneracy. This term—degeneracy—sums up all that is happening to the West. As a case in point, witness the efflorescence of “zoo brothels” in Germany (here). What’s amazing—is it really?—is that the zoophilic campaigners push the moral relativism card.

§ I am a staunch defender of the Western canon and I consider those who degrade it and marginalize it as my enemies.

§ White man, stop being such a degenerate. Your daughters sleep with niggers, they dress like strumpets, they behave like harlots, they talk back, and they abort. And to think that you have the temerity to be offended! What fatuousness!

§ Everything that this unlamented, for me, degenerate stood for was a direct slap to civilization and culture; especially, music. The strident cacophony, the profligacy, the words, the attire, the overall appearance, and the destructive aura of these retarded, sophomoric culture-wreckers damns them to eternal perdition as far as I’m concerned.

§ Sexual jealousy is one of the worst feelings a man can have. It is all-consuming and all-encompassing. Now I fully realize the importance of the traditional doctrine of marrying a virgin.

§ Hell is having to listen to and watch all forms of modern entertainment.

§ I’m sick of seeing young white women with tattoos.

§ I hate, I detest, I loath, I excoriate, I vilify modern “movies”, “music”, “art”, “poetry”, “literature”, and every other flatus meant to represent modern “culture”.

§ The “White movement” is no movement in the true sense. It is a loose aggregate—at best—of armchair loudmouths and pretentious pontificators. The overwhelming number of individuals who are either self-penned or peon-promoted “leaders” are half-baked intellectuals; to wit, those who spout off Evola and Nietzsche from one aperture while doing the same for rock’n’roll from the other, posterior one.

The pretenders, these pseudo-thinkers claim, disingenuously, that modern Whites, youth especially, don’t like and can’t digest the Western musical canon. They need, so they say, something more “up beat” and “relevant”. In other words, let’s teach them all the thoughts of the bigwigs from the Western past, which is somehow not antithetical, while pushing the “musical” excrescences of modernity. This is not only hypocritical, but otiose, since our agenda must be to invoke the Past in its entirety. Imagine, having a people who can quote Guénon while gyrating to AC/DC!

If such a group was ever to come to fruition, it would get nowhere. How can a mind house the soul of a nigger? It is a veritable abortion. And the people who talk big while listening to filth have no taste and they have no soul. The thoughts and milieux of great minds are antipodal to modern “White music” and even to musical modernisms of any and all sorts à la Stravinsky and Bartok. Can one even fathom a Nietzsche-like prophetic figure perorating such great and inspiring thoughts while contemplating offal?

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Degenerate art Homosexuality Music

Not impressive

by Iranian for Aryans

emheader

I’ve come to the conclusion over the past few years that the mantra, “The conservatives of today are the liberals of tomorrow,” is axiomatic. Whereas the Racialist Right of the past, viz., Rockwell, inveighed against rock’n’roll, modern-day WNs promote it to the hilt and consider it part of White cultural heritage. Thus, it’s not surprising that James O’Meara’s latest essay is part of this trend.

Essentially, O’Meara’s essay is an attempt to belittle the Western musical canon and replace it with something more “progressive” (with a homosexual tinge). There are several problems with this. Allow me to begin with the most inconsequential and then I’ll work my way up to the crux of the matter.

James O’Meara’s writing style is irritating. It’s filled with references to “pop culture” and various modern/modernistic sayings. It’s a snazzy, jazzy, and frenetic writing style with a lot of names thrown in to give it the flavor of credibility. This invoking of the modern “world of pop” is alien to me and others from the Old World. More than half-the-time, I have no clue who or what he is referring to. O’Meara is steeped in the modern world. This is not good and it’s a sign of worse things to come.

Now, I’m not an expert on Equal Tuning (ET). However, I know enough of Western music, with its modes and diatonicity, to realize that the latter expanded the possibilities of the former by allowing for better direction and finality due to harmonic progression. Contrary to what the “composer” Dane Rudhyar claims, Western music did not revoke Mysticism. The Western canon is spiritual to the core, from chant up to and including the pathos of  Elektra. Incidentally, I listened to Rudhyar’s “compositions” and they are ugly and miasmic. I thought it wryly humorous that he should speak about the West losing its Mysticism with his cacophonous compositions.

Once O’Meara is done attempting to denigrate the foundations of Western music, he states that the twelve-tone diatonic system is bankrupt and washed up: it’s discordant, it’s anti-Tradition, it’s “merely psychological”, etc. If O’Meara knew anything about Western music, he would know that it goes beyond the mundane. Western music moves the Soul. Actually, it invokes various States. Those who are moved by a Beethoven symphony, a Haydn string quartet, an Ockeghem mass, and a song of courtly love by Machaut, know of what I speak. For example, the last movement of the Pastoral symphony, where the double basses take the melody, makes the music soar, and one feels as if the clouds have been ripped asunder and the Heavenly Host has shown itself in its full glory. This is not mere theatrics. If individuals, bereft of a sense of beauty, cannot see it, then they are blind.

In actuality, O’Meara’s thesis is not novel. Others have besmirched Western music before. O’Meara’s approach, however, is to attack Western music by quoting the school of Sophia Perennis in order to sanctify his agenda. This doesn’t fly as it’s disingenuous and manipulative. A case in point is O’Meara’s homosexuality and probable pederasty. O’Meara is quick to quote and use Guenon to further his agenda; to wit, his viewpoint is in tune with “Aryanism”. Yet, Guenon converted to Islam and moved to Egypt, married an Egyptian woman, and fathered a half-Egyptian daughter. Indeed, Lings, Burkhardt, and Schuon, all big names in Tradition, converted to Islam and even took Islamic names. Next time, when O’Meara raises the issue that the anti-homosexual stance is Abrahamic and not Aryan, why doesn’t he quote Guenon, Lings, Burkhardt, and Schuon, all “Aryans”, in order to see what they think of homosexuality, given their conversion to Islam?

After having attacked Western music and attempting to destroy its edifice, O’Meara calls for a new music. This new music is exemplified by a horrid modernist by the name of Partch. Said modernist, miracle of miracles, is yet another “wild boy”; i.e., a homosexual. As disgusting as homosexuality is, what’s more intolerable, philosophically, ideologically, and aesthetically, is the hubris with which O’Meara pontificates on the merits of Partch. Partch is nothing but a gasbag and a pretentious pseudo-iconoclast. This microtonal moron (like Haba and Harrison, another homosexual) is touted because he developed a new system of music and new instrumentation to go along with it. Big Deal. Experimentation is nothing but another sign of the times. Is it any wonder that Hitler stated, “There shall be no experimentation”?

Experimentation is proof that music, including other fields of cultural expression, are dead and stinking. When an artist must create something novel, for the sake of novelty, then there is no creative spirit present. Hasn’t one witnessed that every degenerate and soporific (at best) “composer” of the modern era has been noted for one hare-brained form of experimentation or another? One can take serialism, minimalism, microtonalism, and their various permutations and amalgams as proof that not one of these turds (how appropriate, given their homosexuality) has anything to say. Further, isn’t it also telling that there is a large degree of perverse sexuality (homosexuality) in these aesthetically horrid circles: Harrison, Cage, Partch, etc.?

A Traditionalist would look to the past and stick with that, refusing to infuse today’s cacophony and faux-music (“folk metal”, for example) to build something new, since the age of creativity in the Arts has passed and said Frankenstein will be a chimera full of monkeyshines. This lack of understanding shows that O’Meara’s utilization of Tradition is flawed. It’s quasi-Tradition raised on rock’n’roll and other types of “pop culture”. All that this ridiculous talk does is, yet again, show that O’Meara and his ilk lack musical refinement while exhibiting, unbeknownst to themselves, the utmost hubris. As a case in point, O’Meara’s third installment on Partch refers to the decomposer as “Our Wagner, Only Better”! My God, what fatuousness!

Speaking of Wagner, he’s considered an idol because the NS, Hitler in particular, made him such at the expense of others. This is a case of sycophantism. In fact, the Right doesn’t know any better, because it, too, lacks knowledge and aesthetic sensitivity, to a large degree. Brahms and other composers who weren’t revered by Hitler and Co. didn’t shine as strongly for the Right as we currently witness. Be that as it may, I agree with Rossini: “Mr. Wagner has beautiful moments, but bad quarters of an hour.”

You who love the Western musical heritage and give it more than cursory lip-service  should be aghast at what this pederast has written. He has an agenda of promoting the most absurd ideas as novel and almost always with some homosexual angle. His “wild boys” are charlatans, hacks, freaks, homosexuals (excuse the redundancy), modernists, and purveyors of ugliness. I have yet to listen to a piece by Partch that can compete with the most nugatory of classical compositions.

The fact that Western youth do not listen to their musical hits and wonderments is not a reason to forego the Musical Masters, but to accept the fact that Western youth are degenerate through and through and must be redeemed. They need the light and they need to be re-acquainted with their heritage. Simulacra of a nadir variety are simply not to be brooked.

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Yearling (novel)

Yearling excerpts

papa ensena a su hijito
Since I mentioned The Yearling in my previous post, I must say that at Chechar’s (here) I have just copied and pasted the ten entries originally posted here but in reverse order; that is, in a way that the reader doesn’t have to read them backwards but may start from chapter 1.

Categories
2001: A Space Odyssey (movie) Aryan beauty Autobiography Beauty Child abuse God Hojas Susurrantes (book) Metaphysics of race / sex Philosophy Psychology Stefan Zweig Yearling (novel)

A postscript to my prolegomena

Further to what I said yesterday.

A deeper response to the questions raised by Stubbs would imply reminding my readers that, at the end of his Critique of Practical Reason, Kant said that there are two universes: the empirical universe and the subjective universe. Karl Popper comments that he who doesn’t believe in the second universe would do well to think about his own death—it is so obvious that a whole universe dies when a human being dies!

What I find nauseating in today’s academia is that it is an institution that denies the existence of this second universe. One could imagine what would happen if a student of psychology or psychiatry tried to write a lyric essay about why Nietzsche lost his mind, like the one that Stefan Zweig wrote and I have been excerpting for WDH. (And wait for the next chapters where Zweig’s story reaches its climax…)

A proper response to Stubbs would require an absolute break from the epistemological error, a category error, so ubiquitous in the academia. That is to say, we must approach such questions as if they were questions for our inner worlds.

The best way to respond to Stubbs, following what I have said about psychoclasses, is imagining that few whites have touched the black monolith of the film 2001. Those who have touched it—and here we are talking of the “second” universe that the current paradigm barely acknowledges—know that the most divine creature on Earth, the nymph, must be preserved at all costs.

This is not the sphere of objective science. Since we are talking of the ideals of our souls, let me confess that I became a white nationalist in 2009 when I lived in the Spanish island Gran Canaria, near Africa. The big unemployment that started in 2008 affected me and, without a job and completely broke, I spent a great deal of time in the internet. When I learned that a demographic winter was affecting all of the white population on planet Earth I was watching a Harry Potter film featuring a blondest female teenager. I remember that I told to myself something to the effect that, henceforward, I would defend the race with all of my teeth and claws.

However, to understand this universe I would have to tell the (tragic) story of the nymph Catalina: a pure white rose who happened to live around my home’s corner decades ago, who looked like the girl in that Parrish painting. But I won’t talk about the tragedy (something of it is recounted in Hojas Susurrantes). Suffice it to say that since then my mind has been devoted to her beauty and, by transference, it is now devoted to protect all genotype & phenotype that resembles hers…

Once we are talking from our own emergent universe (emergent compared to the Neanderthals who have not touched the monolith), Stubb’s questions are easily answered if one only dares to speak out what lies within our psyches:

So let me think of some fundamental questions that need to be answered: Why does it matter if the White race exists, if the rest of the humans are happy?

Speaks my inner universe: Because the rest of humans are like Neanderthals compared to Cro-Magnon whites. Here in Mexico I suffer real nightmares imagining the fate of the poor animals if whites go completely extinct (Amerinds are incapable of feeling the empathy I feel for our biological cousins).

Why does it matter if the White race continues to exist if I personally live my life out in comfort?

Speaks my inner universe: Because only pigs think like that. (Remember the first film of the Potter series, when Hagrid used magic to sprout a pig’s tail from Dudley’s fat bottom for gulping down Harry’s birthday cake.) We have a compromise with God’s creation even when a personal God does not exist.

Why should I be concerned with the White race if it only recently evolved from our ape-like ancestors, knowing that change is a part of the universe?

Speaks my inner universe: Because our mission is that we, not others, touch again the black monolith after four million years that one of our ancestors touched it.

Why should I be concerned with the existence of the White race if every White person is mortal, and preserving each one is futile?

Speaks my inner universe: It is a pity that no one has read The Yearling that I had been excerpting recently. I wanted to say something profound in the context of child abuse but that is a subject that does not interest WDH readers. Let me hint to what I thought after reading it.

To my mind the moral of the novel is not the moment when the father coerced his son to shoot Flag, but the very last page of Marjorie’s masterpiece. Suddenly Jody woke up at midnight and found himself exclaiming “Flag!” when his pet was already gone.

moment of eternity

The poet Octavio Paz once said that we are mortals, yes: but those “portions of eternity,” as a boy playing with his yearling, are the sense of the universe. The empirical (now I am talking of the external) universe was created precisely to give birth to these simple subjective moments: figments that depict our souls like no other moments in the universe’s horizon of events.

Why should I be concerned with preserving the White race if all White people who live will suffer, some horribly, and none would suffer if they were wiped out?

Speaks my inner universe: The boy suffered horribly when his father obliged him to murder Flag, yes. But the moment of eternity, as depicted in Wyeth’s illustration, had to be lived. It will probably leave a mark if another incarnation of the universe takes place…

Categories
Art My pinacoteca Vincent van Gogh

The Red Vineyard

The Red Vineyard

Painting of the day:

Vincent van Gogh
The Red Vineyard
~ 1890
Pushkin Museum

Categories
Friedrich Nietzsche Stefan Zweig Vincent van Gogh

Discovery of the south

der_kampf_mit_dem_daemon

Since my object is to portray Nietzsche’s life, not as a biography but as a tragedy of the spirit, as a work of dramatic art, for me his true work began when the artist in the man was released and became conscious of enfranchisement. So long as Nietzsche remained in his professional chrysalis he was nothing more than a problem for professorial brains to cudgel themselves over. But the winged being, “the aeronaut of the mind,” belongs to the realm of creative intelligence.

Goethe’s impression of Italy was a mental and æsthetic affair, whereas Nietzsche’s was vital in the extreme: the former brought home with him an artistic style, whilst the latter discovered in the land of the sun a style of life. Goethe was merely fecundated, whereas Nietzsche was completely uprooted, transplanted, renewed.

“Among the many laudable things I have learned in the course of this journey is the fact that it is impossible for me to live alone and away from my own country” [Goethe]. Turn this dictum the other way about and we get substantially the effect the South produced upon Nietzsche. His conclusions are diametrically opposed to Goethe’s, since he finds that henceforward he can live only in solitude and away from his native land. Goethe, after making an instructive and interesting journey, returns to the exact point whence he took his departure, carrying in his boxes, his heart, and his brain things precious and delightful for a home, for his home in particular. But Nietzsche expatriates himself and finds his true self, the “outlawed prince,” happy at having no home, no possessions, cut off for ever from the “parochial interests of a fatherland” and released from “patriotic strangulation.”

Once a freeman, always a freeman. Having felt the limpid Italian sky over his head, Nietzsche could no longer bear a suggestion of “obscurity,” whether proceeding from the clouds or from a professorial chair, from the Church or from the army. Never again, so far as Nietzsche was concerned, would Germany be free enough and light enough as nourisher of the mind. The halcyon skies are limpidly radiant.

It seems to me that in no other German author was the style of his writing so swiftly and completely renewed. Certainly none other was so flooded with sunshine, or ever became so enfranchised, so essentially southern, so divinely light of foot, so full of a good vintage, so pagan.

To find a change as rapid we have to turn to a painter in search of a comparison. A similar miracle, wrought likewise by the sun of the South, took place in van Gogh. The passage from the lugubrious tints in brown and grey of his Dutch canvases to the violet, crude, and strident colours splashed so generously upon his pictures of Provence was just as eruptive a transition. Van Gogh’s sudden mania for sunlight, his sudden and complete transference from one style of painting to another, is the only analogy that comes to my mind in the least comparable with the illumination the South brought to Nietzsche’s entire being. These two fanatical lovers of change were intoxicated with light, absorbed light with the vampire lust of passion, gulped down light in rapid and inconceivable large doses.

Not satisfied with light, Nietzsche desired “super-light”; clarity must be “super-clarity.” He wanted to be burned by the sun, not merely to be illuminated by it. Language, in its turn, became too narrow a medium, too material, too ponderous. A new element was required for the Dionysian dance that had begun within him; he needed more far-reaching liberties than could be offered while he remained a thrall to the written tongue. He therefore turned back to his first love, to music.

Categories
Francis Parker Yockey Michael O'Meara Quotable quotes

The source of evil

The Jewish-American entity is Jewish as respects its head, American as respects its body… [It] will not surrender, since the very existence of Jewry is at stake, and the whole United States and its population is there to secure the existence of Jewry.

—Francis Parker Yockey

Amerika is a racial and cultural abortion. The scalpel of pop culture has performed a lobotomy on racial memory, with the full and eager endorsement of the patient.

—Sebastian Ronin

An awakened, recommencing Europe promises, thus, to repudiate America’s betrayal of herself—America, this foolish European idea steeped in Enlightenment hubris, which is to be forgotten as a family skeleton once Europe reasserts herself.

 —Michael O’Meara

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Aryan beauty Maxfield Parrish

Prolegomena

for the new religion for Whites


In a previous thread Stubbs responded to one of my comments:

I have, and I’m not really a theist. I’m more along the lines of Pierce or Heidegger or something. The problem with trying to emulate the NSDAP on this one is that they were able to use a lot of “meta-political” work done prior. They had Kant and Hegel and Nietzsche and so on, which wasn’t ideal but was at least a start.

Their religious dogmatism was mostly limited to things like banning freemasonry or not letting atheists into the SS, which wasn’t “separation of church and state” but wasn’t exactly a reformation either. They had to deal with the same problem as us: ending nihilistic atheism through something besides Christianity. It requires a new way of thinking, but I don’t see how the German people of 1940 could have been ready for it. They hadn’t witnessed the collapse of their entire civilization, they weren’t going to believe that God was dead just because Nietzsche claimed it. Now we know.

Maybe I’m being a little too bombastic; I don’t really care whether “the Spirit proceeds from the Son who proceeds from the Father” or “both the Spirit and the Son proceed from the Father”, but that doesn’t mean religion shouldn’t be debated in the public sphere, as a matter of right and wrong, and not merely a “personal opinion” to be tucked away. I see secularism as a sort of spiritual pacifism, and pacifism on the highest questions (is there a God?) trickles down to even the most basic issues (who are we to say homosexuals can’t marry?).

So let me think of some fundamental questions that need to be answered: Why does it matter if the White race exists, if the rest of the humans are happy? Why does it matter if the White race continues to exist if I personally live my life out in comfort? Why should I be concerned with the White race if it only recently evolved from our ape-like ancestors, knowing that change is a part of the universe? Why should I be concerned with the existence of the White race if every White person is mortal, and preserving each one is futile? Why should I be concerned with preserving the White race if all White people who live will suffer, some horribly, and none would suffer if they were wiped out? Why should I as an individual put effort into helping my race when it’s very unlikely that my personal effort will tip the scales? Why should I bother living at all, if my life is not immediately entertaining to me?

These are big questions. Maybe no one in the 1930s would ask why Germans must survive, but Pierce’s student has become the norm in 2013. I don’t think we can just give a smattering of different reasons and call it good enough. We’re going to need answers, and we’re going to actually need to agree on what the answers are, and how we got them, and that means no separation between religion and politics. Incidentally, this also makes a Christian-pagan-atheist alliance very difficult, and I think each position will have to divorce itself from and, at most, work in parallel with the others. Eventually something will become “king of the hill” and it will flip the world upside-down.

This is my response:

So let me think of some fundamental questions that need to be answered: Why does it matter if the White race exists, if the rest of the humans are happy?

That and the rest of your questions are easy questions—for me. But I acknowledge that trying to respond in a blog entry is extremely difficult (William Pierce tried to ponder along similar lines in the very first of his weekly speeches). The real problem with this topic is that it involves something that we may call “psychoclasses,” a subject I mention in those pages of my book where I try explain psychohistory.

If regarding music you belong to a superior psychoclass to those of the masses, you will find it impossible to “prove” your superiority unless you are a scholar of musical science (see e.g., this response by Roger to one of James’ articles on music at Counter-Currents). I can grasp what Roger says intuitively. But I am not a music scholar. I can’t use language to prove that those who like the crassest forms of pop music are spiritual degenerates. Similarly, it’s all too easy to recognize a beautiful or an ugly face you see in the real world, but when trying to use mere language to describe that face to, say, the police, you will see that you need a visual representation of it.

It is the same regarding your questions above. As I told you in that thread, to me the beauty of the white Aryan woman (some would argue that leptosomatic ephebes fall in this category too) could transform itself into a new myth. To use Michael O’Meara’s words in Toward the White Republic:

For it is myth—and the memories and hopes animating it—that shape a nation, that turn a “motley horde” into a people with a shared sense of purpose and identity, that mobilize them against the state of things, and prepare them for self-sacrifice and self-rule.

Myth, not race realism, not stats on black-on-white crime or an excruciating analysis on the Jewish problem, will create the white ethnostate. Let us not use only those old tones anymore when trying to communicate with the broader population. Remember those words written specifically by Beethoven (rather than Schiller) for his Choral symphony:

Oh friends, not these tones!
Rather, let us raise our voices in more pleasing
And more joyful sounds!

For the emergent individual, classical music is the manifestation of a spiritual stage; the crassest forms of pop music and sexual permissiveness, the manifestation of a degenerative, hedonistic stage. The problem with the new myth that potentially could galvanize Whites is, of course, that like music it cannot be articulated except by means of using the right hemisphere of the brain; in this case, the visual arts.

Terre et Peuple, Blut und Boden

Catalina, the crown of the evolution, a girl I met in 1980

The above illustration comes from the brush of the American painter Maxfield Parrish. That Westerners in general and Americans in particular have been degrading their psyches into descendent spirals since World War 2 is evident when keeping in mind that it was estimated that a copy of one of Parrish’s masterpieces, Daybreak, could be found in one out of every four American households in times when Hitler was in power.

Even later, when I was a child in the 1960s, I remember how the American and British cultures still celebrated spiritually the beauty of the Aryan woman. I was a child when the original Prince Valiant came up in every Sunday paper, a comic-strip where the female characters were depicted as hyper-Nordic beauties and the institution of marriage (and the femininity of women) was solid.

Whites need to evolve, make a quantum leap from their current degeneracy to their previous stage. This cannot be done as some young people in the movement say, by invoking the year of 1936—as the Spanish Civil War was, literally, the last ditch of the Christian era (ask me: who studied in the Madrid High School of Mexico City). Following Hegel’s dialectic I would say that Christian numinousity can be merged within its antithetical secularism, giving birth to a synthesis that would be neither Christian nor secular in the current liberal sense.

Let me finish this post with the last paragraph of my essay “Gitone’s magic,” a sort of Platonic response to Counter-Currents’ explicitly “gay” agenda:

I imagine modifying the Northwest Republic tricolor flag by means of placing the colors horizontally and adding the full image of Parrish’s Garden of Opportunity in its middle. Not because in our search for the inexplicable superiority of the Venusinian we males should try to imitate Gitone or Tadzio, which is impossible. But because only the unreachable archetype of the eternal feminine will lead the white race to the Absolute.

I don’t know why, but I confess that every time I read this last line I find myself almost on the verge of tears…

Categories
Julian (novel)

Jvlian excerpts – XII

“Why were you so ungrateful to our gods
as to desert them for the Jews?”

—Julian, addressing the Christians

Julian

The memoir of Julian Augustus

“Poverty, plain poverty.” Gregory indicated the torn and dirty cloak, the unkempt beard. “And protection.” He lowered his voice, indicating the students at the other table. “Christians are outnumbered in Athens. It’s a detestable city. There is no faith, only argument and atheism.”

“Then why are you here?”

He sighed. “The best teachers are here, the best instructors in rhetoric. Also, it is good to know the enemy, to be able to fight him with his own weapons.”

I nodded and pretended agreement. I was not very brave in those days. But even though I could never be candid with Gregory, he was an amusing companion. He was as devoted to the Galilean nonsense as I was to the truth. I attributed this to his unfortunate childhood. His family are Cappadocian. They live in a small town some fifty miles southwest Caesarea, the provincial capital. His mother was a most strong-willed woman named… I cannot recall her name, but I did meet her once a few years ago, and a most formidable creature she was. Passionate and proud and perfectly intolerant of everything not Galilean. Gregory’s father was part Jew and part Greek. As a result of his wife’s relentless admonitions, he succumbed finally to the Galilean religion.

Basil and I greeted one another warmly. He had changed considerably since we were adolescents. He was now a fine-looking man, tall and somewhat thin; unlike Gregory, he wore his hair close-cropped. I teased him about this. “Short hair means a bishop.”

Basil smiled his amiable smile and said in soft voice, “May that cup pass from me,” a quotation from the Nazarene.


Priscus: You will be aware of a number of ironies in what you have just read. The unspeakable Gregory is due to preside over the new Ecumenical Council. They say he will be the next bishop of Constantinople. How satisfying to glimpse this noble bishop in his ragged youth! Basil, who wanted only the contemplative life, now governs the church in Asia as bishop of Caesarea. I liked Basil during the brief period I knew him in Athens. He had a certain fire, and a good mind. He might have been a first-rate historian had he not decided to be a power in the church. But how can these young men resist the chance to rise? Philosophy offers them nothing; the church everything.

Categories
Ancient Rome Christendom Constantine Emperor Julian Libanius

Gibbon on Julian – 12

Edward-Gibbon

The History of the Decline and Fall
of the Roman Empire

Chapter XXIII:
Reign of Julian
Part II


The inclination of Julian might prefer the gods of Homer, and of the Scipios, to the new faith, which his uncle had established in the Roman empire; and in which he himself had been sanctified by the sacrament of baptism. But, as a philosopher, it was incumbent on him to justify his dissent from Christianity, which was supported by the number of its converts, by the chain of prophecy, the splendor of or miracles, and the weight of evidence.

The elaborate work, which he composed amidst the preparations of the Persian war, contained the substance of those arguments which he had long revolved in his mind. Some fragments have been transcribed and preserved, by his adversary, the vehement Cyril of Alexandria; and they exhibit a very singular mixture of wit and learning, of sophistry and fanaticism. The elegance of the style and the rank of the author, recommended his writings to the public attention; and in the impious list of the enemies of Christianity, the celebrated name of Porphyry was effaced by the superior merit or reputation of Julian.

The minds of the faithful were either seduced, or scandalized, or alarmed; and the pagans, who sometimes presumed to engage in the unequal dispute, derived, from the popular work of their Imperial missionary, an inexhaustible supply of fallacious objections. But in the assiduous prosecution of these theological studies, the emperor of the Romans imbibed the illiberal prejudices and passions of a polemic divine. He contracted an irrevocable obligation to maintain and propagate his religious opinions; and whilst he secretly applauded the strength and dexterity with which he wielded the weapons of controversy, he was tempted to distrust the sincerity, or to despise the understandings, of his antagonists, who could obstinately resist the force of reason and eloquence.

The Christians, who beheld with horror and indignation the apostasy of Julian, had much more to fear from his power than from his arguments. The pagans, who were conscious of his fervent zeal, expected, perhaps with impatience, that the flames of persecution should be immediately kindled against the enemies of the gods; and that the ingenious malice of Julian would invent some cruel refinements of death and torture which had been unknown to the rude and inexperienced fury of his predecessors.

But the hopes, as well as the fears, of the religious factions were apparently disappointed, by the prudent humanity of a prince, who was careful of his own fame, of the public peace, and of the rights of mankind. Instructed by history and reflection, Julian was persuaded that if the diseases of the body may sometimes be cured by salutary violence, neither steel nor fire can eradicate the erroneous opinions of the mind.

The reluctant victim may be dragged to the foot of the altar; but the heart still abhors and disclaims the sacrilegious act of the hand. Religious obstinacy is hardened and exasperated by oppression; and, as soon as the persecution subsides, those who have yielded are restored as penitents, and those who have resisted are honored as saints and martyrs. If Julian adopted the unsuccessful cruelty of Diocletian and his colleagues, he was sensible that he should stain his memory with the name of a tyrant, and add new glories to the Catholic church, which had derived strength and increase from the severity of the pagan magistrates.

Actuated by these motives, and apprehensive of disturbing the repose of an unsettled reign, Julian surprised the world by an edict, which was not unworthy of a statesman, or a philosopher. He extended to all the inhabitants of the Roman world the benefits of a free and equal toleration; and the only hardship which he inflicted on the Christians, was to deprive them of the power of tormenting their fellow-subjects, whom they stigmatized with the odious titles of idolaters and heretics.

The pagans received a gracious permission, or rather an express order, to open all their temples; and they were at once delivered from the oppressive laws, and arbitrary vexations, which they had sustained under the reign of Constantine, and of his sons. At the same time the bishops and clergy, who had been banished by the Arian monarch, were recalled from exile, and restored to their respective churches; the Donatists, the Novatians, the Macedonians, the Eunomians, and those who, with a more prosperous fortune, adhered to the doctrine of the Council of Nice.

Julian, who understood and derided their theological disputes, invited to the palace the leaders of the hostile sects, that he might enjoy the agreeable spectacle of their furious encounters. The clamor of controversy sometimes provoked the emperor to exclaim, “Hear me! the Franks have heard me, and the Alemanni;” but he soon discovered that he was now engaged with more obstinate and implacable enemies; and though he exerted the powers of oratory to persuade them to live in concord, or at least in peace, he was perfectly satisfied, before he dismissed them from his presence, that he had nothing to dread from the union of the Christians.

The impartial Ammianus has ascribed this affected clemency to the desire of fomenting the intestine divisions of the church, and the insidious design of undermining the foundations of Christianity, was inseparably connected with the zeal which Julian professed, to restore the ancient religion of the empire. As soon as he ascended the throne, he assumed, according to the custom of his predecessors, the character of supreme pontiff; not only as the most honorable title of Imperial greatness, but as a sacred and important office; the duties of which he was resolved to execute with pious diligence. As the business of the state prevented the emperor from joining every day in the public devotion of his subjects, he dedicated a domestic chapel to his tutelar deity the Sun; his gardens were filled with statues and altars of the gods; and each apartment of the palace displaced the appearance of a magnificent temple.

Every morning he saluted the parent of light with a sacrifice; the blood of another victim was shed at the moment when the Sun sunk below the horizon; and the Moon, the Stars, and the Genii of the night received their respective and seasonable honors from the indefatigable devotion of Julian. On solemn festivals, he regularly visited the temple of the god or goddess to whom the day was peculiarly consecrated, and endeavored to excite the religion of the magistrates and people by the example of his own zeal. Instead of maintaining the lofty state of a monarch, distinguished by the splendor of his purple, and encompassed by the golden shields of his guards, Julian solicited, with respectful eagerness, the meanest offices which contributed to the worship of the gods.

Amidst the sacred but licentious crowd of priests, of inferior ministers, and of female dancers, who were dedicated to the service of the temple, it was the business of the emperor to bring the wood, to blow the fire, to handle the knife, to slaughter the victim, and, thrusting his bloody hands into the bowels of the expiring animal, to draw forth the heart or liver, and to read, with the consummate skill of an haruspex, imaginary signs of future events. The wisest of the Pagans censured this extravagant superstition, which affected to despise the restraints of prudence and decency.

Under the reign of a prince, who practised the rigid maxims of economy, the expense of religious worship consumed a very large portion of the revenue a constant supply of the scarcest and most beautiful birds was transported from distant climates, to bleed on the altars of the gods; a hundred oxen were frequently sacrificed by Julian on one and the same day; and it soon became a popular jest, that if he should return with conquest from the Persian war, the breed of horned cattle must infallibly be extinguished.

Yet this expense may appear inconsiderable, when it is compared with the splendid presents which were offered either by the hand, or by order, of the emperor, to all the celebrated places of devotion in the Roman world; and with the sums allotted to repair and decorate the ancient temples, which had suffered the silent decay of time, or the recent injuries of Christian rapine.

Encouraged by the example, the exhortations, the liberality, of their pious sovereign, the cities and families resumed the practice of their neglected ceremonies. “Every part of the world,” exclaims Libanius, with devout transport, “displayed the triumph of religion; and the grateful prospect of flaming altars, bleeding victims, the smoke of incense, and a solemn train of priests and prophets, without fear and without danger. The sound of prayer and of music was heard on the tops of the highest mountains; and the same ox afforded a sacrifice for the gods, and a supper for their joyous votaries.”

But the genius and power of Julian were unequal to the enterprise of restoring a religion which was destitute of theological principles, of moral precepts, and of ecclesiastical discipline; which rapidly hastened to decay and dissolution, and was not susceptible of any solid or consistent reformation.

The jurisdiction of the supreme pontiff, more especially after that office had been united with the Imperial dignity, comprehended the whole extent of the Roman empire. Julian named for his vicars, in the several provinces, the priests and philosophers whom he esteemed the best qualified to cooperate in the execution of his great design; and his pastoral letters, if we may use that name, still represent a very curious sketch of his wishes and intentions.

He directs, that in every city the sacerdotal order should be composed, without any distinction of birth and fortune, of those persons who were the most conspicuous for the love of the gods, and of men. “If they are guilty,” continues he,

of any scandalous offence, they should be censured or degraded by the superior pontiff; but as long as they retain their rank, they are entitled to the respect of the magistrates and people. Their humility may be shown in the plainness of their domestic garb; their dignity, in the pomp of holy vestments.

When they are summoned in their turn to officiate before the altar, they ought not, during the appointed number of days, to depart from the precincts of the temple; nor should a single day be suffered to elapse, without the prayers and the sacrifice, which they are obliged to offer for the prosperity of the state, and of individuals. The exercise of their sacred functions requires an immaculate purity, both of mind and body; and even when they are dismissed from the temple to the occupations of common life, it is incumbent on them to excel in decency and virtue the rest of their fellow-citizens. The priest of the gods should never be seen in theatres or taverns.

His conversation should be chaste, his diet temperate, his friends of honorable reputation; and if he sometimes visits the Forum or the Palace, he should appear only as the advocate of those who have vainly solicited either justice or mercy. His studies should be suited to the sanctity of his profession. Licentious tales, or comedies, or satires, must be banished from his library, which ought solely to consist of historical or philosophical writings; of history, which is founded in truth, and of philosophy, which is connected with religion.

The impious opinions of the Epicureans and sceptics deserve his abhorrence and contempt; but he should diligently study the systems of Pythagoras, of Plato, and of the Stoics, which unanimously teach that there are gods; that the world is governed by their providence; that their goodness is the source of every temporal blessing; and that they have prepared for the human soul a future state of reward or punishment.

The Imperial pontiff inculcates, in the most persuasive language, the duties of benevolence and hospitality; exhorts his inferior clergy to recommend the universal practice of those virtues; promises to assist their indigence from the public treasury; and declares his resolution of establishing hospitals in every city, where the poor should be received without any invidious distinction of country or of religion. Julian beheld with envy the wise and humane regulations of the church; and he very frankly confesses his intention to deprive the Christians of the applause, as well as advantage, which they had acquired by the exclusive practice of charity and beneficence.

The same spirit of imitation might dispose the emperor to adopt several ecclesiastical institutions, the use and importance of which were approved by the success of his enemies. But if these imaginary plans of reformation had been realized, the forced and imperfect copy would have been less beneficial to Paganism, than honorable to Christianity.

The Gentiles, who peaceably followed the customs of their ancestors, were rather surprised than pleased with the introduction of foreign manners; and in the short period of his reign, Julian had frequent occasions to complain of the want of fervor of his own party. The enthusiasm of Julian prompted him to embrace the friends of Jupiter as his personal friends and brethren; and though he partially overlooked the merit of Christian constancy, he admired and rewarded the noble perseverance of those Gentiles who had preferred the favor of the gods to that of the emperor.

If they cultivated the literature, as well as the religion, of the Greeks, they acquired an additional claim to the friendship of Julian, who ranked the Muses in the number of his tutelar deities. In the religion which he had adopted, piety and learning were almost synonymous; and a crowd of poets, of rhetoricians, and of philosophers, hastened to the Imperial court, to occupy the vacant places of the bishops, who had seduced the credulity of Constantius.

His successor esteemed the ties of common initiation as far more sacred than those of consanguinity; he chose his favorites among the sages, who were deeply skilled in the occult sciences of magic and divination; and every impostor, who pretended to reveal the secrets of futurity, was assured of enjoying the present hour in honor and affluence.

Among the philosophers, Maximus obtained the most eminent rank in the friendship of his royal disciple, who communicated, with unreserved confidence, his actions, his sentiments, and his religious designs, during the anxious suspense of the civil war. As soon as Julian had taken possession of the palace of Constantinople, he despatched an honorable and pressing invitation to Maximus, who then resided at Sardes in Lydia, with Chrysanthius, the associate of his art and studies.

The prudent and superstitious Chrysanthius refused to undertake a journey which showed itself, according to the rules of divination, with the most threatening and malignant aspect: but his companion, whose fanaticism was of a bolder cast, persisted in his interrogations, till he had extorted from the gods a seeming consent to his own wishes, and those of the emperor. The journey of Maximus through the cities of Asia displayed the triumph of philosophic vanity; and the magistrates vied with each other in the honorable reception which they prepared for the friend of their sovereign. Julian was pronouncing an oration before the senate, when he was informed of the arrival of Maximus.

The emperor immediately interrupted his discourse, advanced to meet him, and after a tender embrace, conducted him by the hand into the midst of the assembly; where he publicly acknowledged the benefits which he had derived from the instructions of the philosopher.

Maximus, who soon acquired the confidence, and influenced the councils of Julian, was insensibly corrupted by the temptations of a court. His dress became more splendid, his demeanor more lofty, and he was exposed, under a succeeding reign, to a disgraceful inquiry into the means by which the disciple of Plato had accumulated, in the short duration of his favor, a very scandalous proportion of wealth. Of the other philosophers and sophists, who were invited to the Imperial residence by the choice of Julian, or by the success of Maximus, few were able to preserve their innocence or their reputation.

The liberal gifts of money, lands, and houses, were insufficient to satiate their rapacious avarice; and the indignation of the people was justly excited by the remembrance of their abject poverty and disinterested professions. The penetration of Julian could not always be deceived: but he was unwilling to despise the characters of those men whose talents deserved his esteem: he desired to escape the double reproach of imprudence and inconstancy; and he was apprehensive of degrading, in the eyes of the profane, the honor of letters and of religion.

The favor of Julian was almost equally divided between the Pagans, who had firmly adhered to the worship of their ancestors, and the Christians, who prudently embraced the religion of their sovereign. The acquisition of new proselytes gratified the ruling passions of his soul, superstition and vanity; and he was heard to declare, with the enthusiasm of a missionary, that if he could render each individual richer than Midas, and every city greater than Babylon, he should not esteem himself the benefactor of mankind, unless, at the same time, he could reclaim his subjects from their impious revolt against the immortal gods.

A prince who had studied human nature, and who possessed the treasures of the Roman empire, could adapt his arguments, his promises, and his rewards, to every order of Christians; and the merit of a seasonable conversion was allowed to supply the defects of a candidate, or even to expiate the guilt of a criminal. As the army is the most forcible engine of absolute power, Julian applied himself, with peculiar diligence, to corrupt the religion of his troops, without whose hearty concurrence every measure must be dangerous and unsuccessful; and the natural temper of soldiers made this conquest as easy as it was important.

The legions of Gaul devoted themselves to the faith, as well as to the fortunes, of their victorious leader; and even before the death of Constantius, he had the satisfaction of announcing to his friends, that they assisted with fervent devotion, and voracious appetite, at the sacrifices, which were repeatedly offered in his camp, of whole hecatombs of fat oxen.

The armies of the East, which had been trained under the standard of the cross, and of Constantius, required amore artful and expensive mode of persuasion. On the days of solemn and public festivals, the emperor received the homage, and rewarded the merit, of the troops. His throne of state was encircled with the military ensigns of Rome and the republic; the holy name of Christ was erased from the Labarum; and the symbols of war, of majesty, and of pagan superstition, were so dexterously blended, that the faithful subject incurred the guilt of idolatry, when he respectfully saluted the person or image of his sovereign.

The soldiers passed successively in review; and each of them, before he received from the hand of Julian a liberal donative, proportioned to his rank and services, was required to cast a few grains of incense into the flame which burnt upon the altar. Some Christian confessors might resist, and others might repent; but the far greater number, allured by the prospect of gold, and awed by the presence of the emperor, contracted the criminal engagement; and their future perseverance in the worship of the gods was enforced by every consideration of duty and of interest.

By the frequent repetition of these arts, and at the expense of sums which would have purchased the service of half the nations of Scythia, Julian gradually acquired for his troops the imaginary protection of the gods, and for himself the firm and effectual support of the Roman legions. It is indeed more than probable, that the restoration and encouragement of Paganism revealed a multitude of pretended Christians, who, from motives of temporal advantage, had acquiesced in the religion of the former reign; and who afterwards returned, with the same flexibility of conscience, to the faith which was professed by the successors of Julian.

While the devout monarch incessantly labored to restore and propagate the religion of his ancestors, he embraced the extraordinary design of rebuilding the temple of Jerusalem. In a public epistle to the nation or community of the Jews, dispersed through the provinces, he pities their misfortunes, condemns their oppressors, praises their constancy, declares himself their gracious protector, and expresses a pious hope, that after his return from the Persian war, he may be permitted to pay his grateful vows to the Almighty in his holy city of Jerusalem.

The blind superstition, and abject slavery, of those unfortunate exiles, must excite the contempt of a philosophic emperor; but they deserved the friendship of Julian, by their implacable hatred of the Christian name. The barren synagogue abhorred and envied the fecundity of the rebellious church; the power of the Jews was not equal to their malice; but their gravest rabbis approved the private murder of an apostate; and their seditious clamors had often awakened the indolence of the Pagan magistrates.

Under the reign of Constantine, the Jews became the subjects of their revolted children nor was it long before they experienced the bitterness of domestic tyranny. The civil immunities which had been granted, or confirmed, by Severus, were gradually repealed by the Christian princes; and a rash tumult, excited by the Jews of Palestine, seemed to justify the lucrative modes of oppression which were invented by the bishops and eunuchs of the court of Constantius.

The Jewish patriarch, who was still permitted to exercise a precarious jurisdiction, held his residence at Tiberias; and the neighboring cities of Palestine were filled with the remains of a people who fondly adhered to the promised land. But the edict of Hadrian was renewed and enforced; and they viewed from afar the walls of the holy city, which were profaned in their eyes by the triumph of the cross and the devotion of the Christians.