Julius Evola on Ernst Jünger
East and West – The Gordian Knot
Ex: http://eisernekrone.blogspot.com/
The name of Ernst Jünger has achieved an almost European  notoriety. However the importance of this writer as a philosopher  concerns above all the early period of his activities. An ex-service man  in the first World War, he appeared as a spokesman of what in his day  was already known as the “burnt out generation.” His ideas were drawn  not from abstract writing-desk speculations, but from a heroic  experience which he had lived through, whence they gradually extended to  the problem of the meaning of the human person in an epoch of nihilism  and of the all-powerful machine. His watchwords were those of “heroic  realism” and of the ethics of the “absolute person.” Unfortunately  Jünger’s later production, while it registered an apparent progress from  the point of view of pure literature and style, showed a visible  decline of level and of tension from the point of view of world outlook.  The tendency of somewhat suspect humanism, associated with myths which  by reaction have become fashionable in certain circles even of Central  Europe after the late break-down, has somehow influenced his later  writing.
We have had occasion to peruse a  recently-published book of Jünger’s entitled “The Gordian Knot” (Der  gordische Knoten. Frankfurt a.M., 1953). It professes to deal with  relations between East and West, regarded as a basic historical theme,  with the encounters which have taken place between Europe and Asia from  the days of the Persian wars to the present time. It is not easy to  circumscribe the domain considered by Jünger. It hovers essentially  between politics and ethics, while the religious and purely intellectual  element is almost overlooked, a fact which proves prejudicial to the  whole work, because, if we do not consider this element as the  fundamental background of traditional Oriental civilizations, the whole  problem appears badly presented. In this book we find a number of  interesting observations, but they are scattered about here and there as  if in a conservation and there is a lack of systematic unity. But the  fundamental defect of the book is that it presents in terms of  historical antitheses and of antithetical civilizations what are instead  antitheses of universal spiritual categories, having no compulsory  relations with particular peoples, civilizations or continents. Jünger  often finds himself forced to admit it, as when he speaks of East and  West, of Europe and Asia, not as of two historical and geographical  concepts, but as of two possibilities which every man in every age  carries within himself. Every people would indeed possess them, because,  for instance, the typical features of Asiatic incursions into Europe  and of the “Oriental” manner of warfare would reappear in civil wars in  their opposition to regular wars. But how can we then fail to notice  that the greater part of the author’s considerations, which resort to  historical and geographical references, whereas they should limit  themselves to the domain of a morphology or a typology of civilizations  and of world outlooks, and which claim actually to conclude with a  diagnosis of the present situation, are compromised by a fundamental  one-sidedness and ambiguity?
That this is the case can be easily proved if  we examine some of the main motifs of the book, in the first place, that  whence its very title, i.e. the Gordian knot, is drawn. The Gordian  knot should represent the problem which always arises with every  encounter between Asia and Europe when domination over the world is in  question. The Gordian knot should represent Asia, the sword of Alexander  Europe. The former should be the symbol of destiny of an existence  bound by elementary or divine forces, of a world characterized by a lack  of limits, of a political society essentially despotic and arbitrary.  The sword of Alexander should instead represent the luminous element,  spiritual power, and be the symbol of a world acknowledging freedom,  law, human respect, a greatness which cannot be reduced to mere power.  At one point of the book the antithesis is even made equivalent to that  between the Titanic powers, vast and shapeless, and the Olympic powers  eternally fighting against them, because the former also represent the  substratum of elementary forces ever re-emerging from the depths and  offering possibilities for new triumphs and further progress.
We need only bear this formulation in mind to realize  the absurdity of talking about East and West. In fact that antagonistic  myth is invested with an universal character, it is found in the  mythologies and sagas of all civilizations, and in the East it has been  formulated not less distinctly than in Hellenic civilization (we need  only remember the dualism of Mazdaism, the Hindu themes about the  struggle between deva and asûra, or the exploits of Indra, etc.); it  reflects therefore a vision of life by no means specifically European.  Moreover, if we refer to a metaphysical plan, it is quite absurd to  associate the East with an existence subject to the powers of destiny  and of the earth. If there is a civilization which has not only  formulated the notion of an absolute freedom, of a freedom so high that  even the realm of the heaven and the realm of the pure Being appear as a  form of bondage, but which has furthermore known a definite technical  tradition to realize that ideal, such a civilization is definitely that  of the East.
But Jünger seems to wish to  keep to a more conditioned plan, closer also to that of political  forces. But here too the argument does not hold water. The antithesis of  the Western ideal of political freedom as against Asian despotism is an  old story, which may have been a “myth” dear to certain Hellenic  historians, but which is devoid of all serious foundation. To justify it  we should limit ourselves to considering certain inferior by-products  of a degenerating and barbarous East, with local sartraps and despots,  with hordes of Tartars, Huns and Mongols, and some aspects of the latest  Arabo-Iranian and Arabo-Persian cycles. At the same time we should  overlook the recurrent phenomena of the same kind in the West, including  the methods of those tyrants and princes who were devoid all human  respect in the age of the Italian Renaissance. Indeed Jünger himself  goes counter to his own thesis when he points out that in the evolution  of Roman history, especially during the Imperial period, both forms were  present. He fully realizes that it is not possible here to bring  forward an eventual Asiatic racial contribution as the only capable of  giving an explanation, so that he has to resort, as we have pointed out,  not to a historic Asia, but rather to an Asia as a permanent  possibility latent in everyone. In any case, coming down to modern  times, the impossibility of sensibly utilizing that antithesis in any  way, appears ever more obvious to Jünger himself. Here then his  antithesis on the one hand almost identifies itself with that proper to  the political terminology of today, in which the “West” is identified  with the Euro-American democratic world and the “East” with Bolshevik  Russia; in addition with regard to certain features drawn by him from  the “Asiatic” style, concerning the manner of waging war, of estimating  the individual, of despotism, of exploiting vanquished peoples and  prisoners of war, of wholesale slaughter, etc. he tends to perceive  them, in a rather one-sided manner, actually in Hitler’s Germany. What  can all this mean?
In any case even in this  connexion things are not quite right and it is odd that Jünger has not  noticed it. Leaving Asia and Europe aside, and considering instead these  conceptions in themselves, the true synthesis does not lie between  freedom and tyranny, but rather between individualism and the principle  of authority. Of a system based on the principle of authority everything  like tyranny, despotism, Bonapartism, the dictatorship of tribunes of  the people, is nothing more than a degeneration or an inverted  falsification. By reverting to the domain of historical civilizations it  would be easy indeed to show to what extent the traditional East, as  far as concerns the doctrine of the Regnum, admitted ideals very  different from individual despotism. We need only refer to the Far  Eastern Imperial conception, with its theory of the “mandate from  Heaven” and the strict political ethic of Kong-tse. In the Nitisara we  are asked to explain how he who cannot dominate himself (his own manas)  can dominate other men, and in the Arthaçâstra the exercise of royal  functions is conceived as tapas, i.e. ascetism, ascetism of power. We  might easily multiply references of this kind.
There is no doubt that the East has had a characteristic tendency  toward the Unconditional, which has been the case only merely  sporadically with the West, by no means to its advantage. This might  shed a different light even on what Jünger calls the Willkürakt, and  which in him seems almost to play the part of an anguish complex. As a  matter of fact a world outlook, wherein the extreme point of reference  is the Unconditional, law in actual practice or in the abstract, can  never constitute the extreme instance on any plane, neither on the human  nor on the divine plane. We do not wish to dwell here on an evident  contradiction into which Jünger falls: how can he conciliate the idea of  the East as a world subject to the bonds of destiny and of necessity  with that other idea, according to which the absolute act, the  Willkürakt, is alleged to be an Eastern category? Furthermore, although  it is a case of horizons already different, by such implications we had  to recognize Asia in its purity, well, in Nietzsche and in Stirner.
But it is more important to consider another aspect of  the question. Jünger tells of a visit by the Count of Champagne to the  head of the Order of the Ishmaelites at the time of the Crusades. At a  sign from his host some knights threw themselves down from the top of a  wall. Asked if his own knights were capable of similar obedience and  fealty, the Count replied in the negative. We have here, Jünger declares  – something which a European mind cannot grasp, because it borders on  the absurd, on folly, because it offends all human values. We have the  sentiments before the Japanese airmen devoting themselves to death. In  the late war, he adds, in Italy and Germany exploits were conceived and  actually carried out which involved extreme risks, but not a previous  acceptance of irrevocable sacrifices by the individual.
Now these considerations are in part one-sided, in part due to  misunderstanding. With regard to the first point we shall mention a  single instance. Ancient Rome, which certainly did not belong to “Asia,”  knew the ritual of the so-called devotio: a military commander  volunteered to die as a victim of the infernal powers in order to  promote an outbreak of them, and thus to bring about the defeat of the  enemy.
The second point, however, is more  important. Jünger should have known that the Ishmaelites were not merely  a military Order, but also an Order of initiates. Within the orbit of  initiation all ethics of a merely human nature, however elevated, cease  to have any validity. Even on the level of mere religion we find the  sacrifice of Isaac as a trial and a disciple of absolute “corpse-like”  obedience – perinde ac cadaver according to the formula of the Jesuits¬ –  in the domain of monastic ascetism. Calvin went so far as to consider  the possibility of renouncing eternal salvation for the sake of love of  God. As for the Order of the Ishmaelites, there is a specific point  which should be born in mind: absolute obedience to the extreme limit,  as illustrated in the above-mentioned episode, had also the value of  discipline and was limited to the lower ranks of the initiatic  hierarchy; once the individual will is eliminated, above the fourth  degree an absolutely contrary principle reigns, that of absolute  freedom, so much so that some one referred to the Order of the  Ishmaelites the principle that “Nothing exists, everything is  permitted.” A mere Crusading knight could hardly attain such horizons: a  Knight Templar might perhaps done so, for the Order of the Templars  also had an initiatic background. Were Jünger to realize all this he  might begin to understand what was the right place even for what he  calls the Willkürakt and the limitations of the validity for ethics of  personality and for an ideal of purely human civic greatness.
Here indeed higher existential dimensions come into  play, and not only in the case of an organization of initiates. For  instance, when it comes to those “absolute sacrifices” of a heroic  nature, we should not forget that it is, in a general way, a question of  civilizations, in which the human earthly existence is not considered,  as it is with us, unique and incapable of repetition. Even on the level  of popular religion and of the normal outlook of life in those  civilizations the individual has the feeling or foreboding that his  existence does not begin with birth nor end with death on earth; thus we  find potentially present that consciousness and that higher dimension,  to which only in exceptional case the religious views which have to come  to prevail in the West offers a suitable atmosphere.
The most important result of these latter considerations is probably  the following. Putting aside East and West, Asia and Europe as  civilizations and as historic realities, we may place our consideration  on the plane to which Jünger has in his book been more than once forced  to shift himself, i.e. on the plane of a morphological determination of  the various layers and possibilities of the human beings. We should then  have three levels. On the lowest we should place all those  possibilities which Jünger has associated with the “Gordian knot,” with  elementary and savage forces, with everything that is limitless, with  the daemonism of destruction, with that which is ruthless, with an  absence of all human respect, with affirmation devoid of all law. In an  intermediate zone we should place the sum total of possibilities  contained within the framework of a civilization which recognizes the  value of humanitas, of law, of individual and civil freedom, of culture  in the ordinary meaning of the word. The higher level is here  represented by that spirituality which Jünger associates with the  symbols of Alexander’s sword, while the lower level is made up of the  values which have provided the foundations of the latest bourgeois and  liberal civilization. But we must recognize as the highest zone that of  possibilities which through the formal analogies which two opposite  poles ever present reflect certain features of the first zone, because  here it is a domain wherein the human tie is surpassed, where neither  the mere human individual nor the current criterion of human greatness  any longer represents the limit, because within it the Unconditional and  the absolutely transcendental asserts itself. Some of the culminating  points of Oriental spirituality refer in fact to this zone. If only a  limit as slender as a razor’s edge at times separates this domain from  the former, yet the difference between the two is abysmal, whereas  opposition to what is merely human is common to both.
Now it is important to point out that wherever forces belonging to the  first of the three domains emerge and break forth, only the  possibilities of the third domain can really face them. Any attempt to  stem on the basis of forces and values of the intermediate zone can only  be precarious, provisional and relative.
To  conclude, we may associate with this a remark concerning that diagnosis  of the present situation, to which Jünger’s book claims to have  contributed. In the first phase of his activities, and above all in his  books “Feuer und Blut” (1926) and “Der Arbeiter” (1932), he had rightly  perceived that the age beginning in the West with the advent of  mechanical civilization and of the first “total” wars is characterized  by the emergence of “elementary” forces operating in a destructive  manner, not only materially, but also spiritually, not only in the  vicissitude of warfare, but also in cosmopolitan mechanized life. The  merit of Jünger in that first phase of his thought is that he had  recognized the fatal error of those who think that everything may be  brought back to order, that this new menacing world, ever advancing, may  be subdued or held on the basis of the vision of life of the values of  the proceeding age, that is to say of bourgeois civilization. If a  spiritual catastrophe is to be averted modern man must make himself  capable of developing his own being in a higher dimension – and it is in  this connexion that Jünger had announced the above-mentioned watchword  of “heroic realism” and pointed out the ideal of the “absolute person,”  capable of measuring himself with elementary forces, capable of seizing  the highest meaning of existence in the most destructive experiences, in  those actions wherein the human individual no longer counts: of a man  acclimatized to the most extreme temperatures and having behind the  “zero point of every value.” It is obvious that in all this Jünger had a  presentiment of the metaphysical level of life in the third of the  domains which we have mentioned. But in this new book we see that he  confuses this domain with the first, and that the chief points of  reference for everything which Jünger associates with the symbol of the  West are drawn to a great extent from the intermediate zone – still far  enough from the “zero point of every value” and not wholly incompatible  with the ideas beloved in the preceding bourgeois period, even if raised  to a dignified form and integrated with some of the values of the good  European tradition.
This leads to a dangerous confusion of  horizons, and at all events marks a retrogression from the positions  already achieved by Jünger in his first period. His more recent works,  including the one which we have been discussing, while they are rich in  interesting suggestions, offer us nothing which has a real basic value.  We have moreover seen that in this book on the Gordian knot the East is  an one-sided and partly arbitrary notion which has nothing to do with  the actual reality of the higher traditional Oriental civilizations,  while throughout the whole work we perceive with sufficient clarity the  reactions of those who, without having any adequate sense of distance,  draw conclusions from the most recent political vicissitudes and who  would reduce the conflict between East and West merely to that between  the world of the democratic Euro-American nations, with their own  outworn ideals which are trying to present themselves in terms of a new  European humanism, and the world of Soviet Communism.
Julius  Evola
(East and West, V, 2, July 1954)