DESPITE the title of Guénon’s sixth chapter, ‘The Social Chaos,’ the author does not address the question of reform because – unlike Evola’s own brief flirtation with Fascism – he has very little faith in political solutions:

Indeed, if a reconstitution were to be attempted at this level — that is to say, working backward and starting from consequences rather than from principles — it would be bound to lack any real foundation and would be completely illusory. Nothing stable could ever come of it, and the whole work would have to be begun anew because the prime necessity of coming to an agreement on essential truths would have been overlooked. It is for this reason that we find it impossible to consider political contingencies, even in the widest sense of this term, as being more than outward signs of the mentality of a period; but even though we regard them in this light, we cannot altogether overlook the manifestations of the modern confusion as they affect the social sphere. (p.69)

Guénon’s analysis of the communities of the West in relation to their exposure to the final stages of the Kali-Yuga, therefore, is applied more indirectly and he never loses sight of the bigger picture.

It may even be said that society itself is completely unnatural in the sense that people are no longer living in accordance with Tradition. The sphere of employment, for example, has led the individual away from his or her true vocation and created a civilisation of wage-slaves centred around what Guénon describes as ‘incidental circumstances’. In the twenty-first century, perhaps, this has become evident by the manner in which people describe themselves. When one individual asks another what they ‘do,’ the predictable response is invariably related to a job description of some kind and their companion inevitably relies upon limited terminological expressions such as ‘bus driver,’ ‘plumber’ or ‘bricklayer’. In reality, however, whilst the person in question may well be employed in one or more of these categories, the man or woman who sweeps the streets by day could just as easily be a poet or musician by night. So which description, therefore, is more accurate? Is someone condemned to be known as a ‘window cleaner,’ simply on account of the fact that others are unaware of the additional dimensions to their character and which have added further strings to their bow? We all have our inherent strengths and weaknesses, but a gift for numerology, origami or dance can be a vocation. Polishing hotel door handles, on the other hand, is not. As a result, there are those who possess certain attributes and who, by withholding their innate talents, are inadvertently hiding their lights under a bushel and falling into the trap of self-deprecation.

Whilst the examples are my own, Guénon is quick to relate this social phenomenon to an inability to retain the uniqueness of individual character:

It is the negation of these differences, bringing with it the negation of all social hierarchy, that is the cause of the whole disorder; this negation may not have been deliberate at first, and may have been more practical than theoretical, since the mingling of the castes preceded their complete suppression or, to put it differently, the nature of individuals was misunderstood before it began to be altogether ignored; at all events this same negation has subsequently been raised by the moderns to the rank of a pseudo-principle under the name of ‘equality’. (p.70)

Needless to say, Guénon rejects the entire foundation of modern ‘egalitarianism’ and the only uniformity that has really come into being is the reduction of humanity to a displaced agglomeration of economic units. As for the appearance and dissemination of such ideas:

Naturally, when we encounter ideas such as ‘equality’ or ‘progress’, or any other of the ‘lay dogmas’ that almost all of our contemporaries blindly accept — most of which were first formulated during the eighteenth century — it is impossible for us to admit that they arose spontaneously. They are veritable ‘suggestions’, in the strictest sense of this word, though they could not of course have had any effect in a society that was not already prepared to receive them; such ideas in themselves have not actually created the mental outlook that is characteristic of modern times, but they have contributed largely to maintaining it and to bringing it to a stage that would doubtless not have been reached without them. (p.71)

Guénon is adamant that without reinforcing or, in the worst cases, brutally imposing this imagined ‘equality’ through propaganda, such notions would quickly founder and a more natural order would soon begin to take shape. It is never easy to ascertain whether the agents of ‘egalitarianism’ are sincere in their intentions, either, but they nonetheless become instruments in the hands of the prevailing socio-economic system. Indeed, the effects are sadly predictable and

behind all this, at least at the outset, a much more deliberate kind of action is necessary, and the direction can be set only by men fully cognizant of the real nature of the ideas they are spreading. We say ‘ideas’, but it is only very inexactly that this word can be made to apply in the present case, for it is clear that they are by no means ‘pure ideas’, having absolutely nothing in common with the intellectual order; they are rather ‘false ideas’, though it would be still better to call them ‘pseudo-ideas’, intended primarily to evoke sentimental reactions, since this is in fact the easiest and most effective way of working on the masses. Indeed, for this purpose, the word used is more important than the notion it is supposed to represent, and most of the modern ‘idols’ are really mere words, for a remarkable phenomenon has arisen known as ‘verbalism’, by which sonorous words succeed in creating the illusion of thought; the influence that orators have over the crowd is particularly characteristic in this connection, and it does not require much reflection to see that it is a process of suggestion altogether comparable to that used by hypnotists. (pp.71-72)

With the triumph of Russian Bolshevism in 1917, just one decade prior to the release of his book, Guénon had already witnessed the remarkable power that a political demagogue could exercise over a nation and its people.

Whilst the author has identified the specialisation that confines an individual to a particular role in society, he is also aware that it often becomes the case for a man to adapt himself to a series of different roles and one example can be seen in the domain of politics:

If the competence of specialists is often quite illusory, and in any case limited to a very narrow field, the belief in this competence is nevertheless a fact, and it may well be asked why it is that this belief is not made to apply to the careers of politicians and why, with them, the most complete incompetence is seldom an obstacle. A little reflection, however, will show that there is nothing surprising in this, and that it is in fact a very natural outcome of the democratic conception, according to which power comes from below and is based essentially on the majority, for a necessary corollary of this conception is the exclusion of all real competence, which is always at least a relative superiority, and therefore belongs necessarily to a minority. (p.72)

Joseph de Maistre (1753-1821) is noted for having said that ‘every nation gets the government it deserves.’ There is clearly some truth in this assertion, particularly if we are referring to the more apathetic members of society and their increasing unwillingness to take responsibility for their own lives. Whilst it is also true that so-called ‘representative democracy’ is designed to allow newly-elected politicians to dismiss the wishes of their voters for the next four or five years, in many ways it is a direct consequence of people being content to place all power and authority in the hands of others. Not because they trust their leaders, necessarily, but due to a fundamental laziness and indifference.

However, it must be remembered that Guénon is not interested in setting forth any kind of alternative programme to democracy and is merely highlighting the problems that surround it:

The most decisive argument against democracy can be summed up in a few words: the higher cannot proceed from the lower, because the greater cannot proceed from the lesser; this is an absolute mathematical certainty that nothing can gainsay. And it should be remarked that this same argument, applied to a different order of things, can also be invoked against materialism; there is nothing fortuitous in this, for these two attitudes are much more closely linked than might at first sight appear. (p.73)

Guénon believes that ordinary people lack the transcendent power that can only be derived from spiritual authority and anything which is truly legitimate must necessarily be located outside the realms of the social. The lack of any higher principle means that democracy is always confined to a lower order and thus remains inferior and profane:

If the word ‘democracy’ is defined as the government of the people by themselves, it expresses an absolute impossibility and cannot even have a mere de facto existence — in our time or in any other. One must guard against being misled by words: it is contradictory to say that the same persons can be at the same time rulers and ruled, because, to use Aristotelian terminology, the same being cannot be ‘in act’ and ‘in potency’ at the same time and in the same relationship. (p.74)

This, despite the fact that democracy is an illusion behind which lurk the banking houses and powerful corporations, means that it is impossible to govern and be governed at the same time. Democracy is seen to be effective because the masses are fooled into believing that they actually rule themselves. It was precisely for this reason

that ‘universal suffrage’ was invented: the law is supposed to be made by the opinion of the majority, but what is overlooked is that this opinion is something that can very easily be guided and modified; it is always possible, by means of suitable suggestions, to arouse, as may be desired, currents moving in this or that direction. (p.74)

The fact that politicians are drawn from the ranks of the electorate conveniently sustains the myth of so-called ‘people-power,’ but as many of us know only too well most politicians are puppets who do the bidding of the shadowy financial masters who lurk behind the scenes.

From Guénon’s perspective, the fact that the masses are largely ‘incompetent’ also explodes the notion that ordinary people are involved in the process of law. Studies of mass psychosis, he argues, demonstrates that the collective mentality of a crowd is always motivated by the lowest elements within it and yet we are supposed to believe that majoritarianism is a valid means of political decision-making:

It is this influence that is one of the chief obstacles in the way of understanding certain things, even for those who in themselves possess an intellectual capacity sufficient to understand them without difficulty; emotional impulses hinder reflection, and making use of this incompatibility is one of the dishonest tricks practiced in politics. (pp.75-76)

The link between democracy and materialism, which Guénon alludes to above, is further illustrated by the total absence of a higher principle and what he calls multiplicity ‘pure and simple’. The fact that democracy has severed the connection between man and the divine, removing a more authentic multiplicity of unity from the equation, means that nothing but a base form of multiplicity is left behind and this is no different to simple matter. One represents the multiplicity of a unified microcosm and macrocosm, whilst the other is the multiplicity of a detached mob.

Within the social sphere, of course, this results in the same discordant individualism that Guénon was discussing in part six of this series. However, he offers a word of caution. Whilst individualism may appear to be the very antithesis of the swarming collectivity that one finds in a democracy, the author explains that any attempt by an individual to oppose the state within such a system is ultimately futile as it fails to take into consideration the ‘supra-human’ principle. It is, he says, merely a dispute between variations of individualism. After all, seeking to detach oneself from something that is already detached from a higher principle simply leads one further and further away from the centre. On the other hand, Traditionalists who apply a more decentralised ‘off-grid’ approach towards the ills of modern society might disagree.

Another consequence of the democratic idea is the fundamental lack of an elite. Not a political vanguard or corporate executive, but a truly aristocratic caste with the power to exert what the Frenchman calls an ‘intellectual superiority’. This elite

can only be an intellectual one; and that is why democracy can arise only where pure intell-ectuality no longer exists, as is the case in the modern world. However, since equality is in fact impossible, and since, despite all efforts toward levelling, the differences between one man and another cannot in practice be entirely suppressed, men have been brought, by a curious illogic, to invent false elites — of several kinds moreover — that claim to take the place of the one true elite; and these false elites are based on a variety of totally relative and contingent points of superiority, always of a purely material order. (p.78)

Herein lies the vast difference between the qualitative and the quantitative, the latter being identical with the democratic fallacy that parties, politicians and plutocracies constitute the pinnacle of human achievement.

The first step towards addressing the problems of social chaos therefore lie in the replenishment of intellectuality. A guiding bastion of this kind was already on the wane in Guénon’s time and is virtually absent today. Whilst Evola later wrote of the importance of being able to ‘ride the tiger’ and withstand the calamitous effects of the modern world, Guénon was already developing his own Traditionalist world-view and calling for an elite that would shun the institutions of political reform to the extent that it does

not have to intervene directly in these spheres, or take any part in outward action; it would direct everything by an influence of which the people were unaware, and which, the less visible it was, the more powerful it would be. It is enough to consider the already mentioned power of suggestion, which does not demand any true intellectuality, in order to get an idea of how much greater would be the power of an influence that was based on pure intellectuality, and worked even more invisibly because of its very nature. (p.80)

By adopting a metapolitical strategy, this elite would focus more intensely on the higher principle that brings one into line with the truth.

Although René Guénon would never personally involve himself in the formation of such an elite, at least once he had deserted his Parisian circle for the mystical back-streets of Egypt, his words certainly inspired Evola to proceed with a very similar plan of his own.