The philosopher-historian par excellence of Western Civilisation, Oswald Spengler, noted that there is no proletarian, not even a communist, movement that does not serve the interests of ‘money’ and ‘in the direction indicated by money’. He pointed out that this is so because ‘socialism’ of the class struggle variety arises from the same Zeitgeist.1 Julius Evola said much the same. The correspondence of Marx with Engels and others shows how thoroughly bourgeois Marx yearned to be. The distraction of the festering boils on his groin,2 and his will-to-destruction prevented him from attaining the good things in life – the typically bourgeois things – for himself and his wife and daughters, other than what he could bludge from Engels, or from his father or other relatives. Marx’s doctrine was a projection of himself onto society as a failed bourgeois, his hatred of ownership a reflection of his detestation of small tradesmen who expected to be paid for their goods and services. His doctrine is a mirror reflection of capitalism, and the failure of an educated man with expensive tastes to rise beyond Soho squalor.3
Socialism does not aim to transcend capitalism. Its aim is to appropriate capitalism for another class. Hence, the proletariat becomes the owner, in theory, of capital, but capital retains its power; it is not overthrown.
From the French Revolution to Marxism there is an unbroken lineage via Blanqui, Blanc, Babeuf, and others. The Masonic lodges played a role in maintaining this lineage from the Illuminati (in its historic, not conspiratorial manifestations) and Jacobin clubs to the International Working Men’s Association. Hatred of Western Civilisation, which is to say Christendom as exemplified by the Catholic Church, is a predominate theme for this line of revolutionists. It would not be surprising if this revolutionary ferment that aimed to destroy Western (Catholic) Civilisation and hatched secret societies such as Freemasonry and Illuminism, had its origins in the Reformation. Is it no more than coincidence that the personal crest of Martin Luther was the Rose-Cross, which became the name of a secret society, the Fraternity of the Rosy-Cross, Rosicrucians, from whence Masonry claims a lineage? What is known of the society is that it issued various manifestoes calling for a new order to replace Catholicism. Masonry also claims lineage from the Knights Templar. Regardless of whether charges of heresy against the Templars were justified, Templar and Rosicrucian influences on secret societies would have provided an impetus for anti-Catholic sentiment that found radical expression with the Illuminati, Grand Orient Masonry, Jacobinism, and the rise of Leftism culminating in Marxism. Even if it is not a conspiratorial lineage, it is a world-view that could proceed with a life of its own.
What has been notable about these revolts in the name of ‘the people’, is that they have tended to increase the position not of the amorphous mass, but of an oligarchy. This is done in the name of ‘democracy’ because traditional regimes based on a symbiosis or a synthesis between faith and monarch get in the way of the Free Market.
Right And Left
We might trace the Western malady back to the Reformation of Henry VIII. In the name of ‘freedom from popery’ the result was the destruction of the Catholic social order that had ensured the social well-being of the common folk, that dispossessed the Church of property for the benefit of an emerging oligarchy, and perhaps more than any other upheaval set England on the path of decay, and considering England’s role in the hatching of subsequent theories, of the West’s decay in general.4
The Right and the Left assumed definitive form during the English Revolution. Again, in the name of ‘the people’ we see a victory of the oligarchy. The Kingdom had been brought to near-ruin by the expenditures of King James and Queen Elizabeth. Parliament refused to allow King Charles I to levy taxes. He enraged the money merchants by grabbing their gold reserves stored at the Royal Mint and confiscated the pepper and spice inventory of the East India Company, whose monopoly was challenged when he approved the rival Courteen Association. With the backing of mercantile interests, Cromwell usurped the authority of the Throne.
Oligarchy Marches On
Something else called a ‘revolution’, and a ‘Glorious’ one no less, brought William of Orange from The Netherlands, then the centre of the money-merchants. This revolution, or invasion, was another revolt against Catholicism, and a coup for the Whig (Liberal) party. William’s extravagant expenditure led to an act of lasting significance, the establishment of the Bank of England in 1694. The world financial centre gravitated from The Netherlands to England, and further undermined the authority of the Crown in favour of Parliament. Another ‘revolution’ in the name of resisting ‘popery’, extended the power of a Whig oligarchy. Party politics became fixed and the nexus between monarch and God, that is the foundation of traditional societies, was rent.5
When Henry VIII, Cromwell, William of Orange, Duc d’Orleans, Jacob Schiff, Woodrow Wilson, Franklin Roosevelt, Churchill, Bush X 2, Clinton, Obama, and the immense gaggle of liberal-leftists whoring themselves to George Soros and the neo-Trotskyists of the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), shout ‘freedom’, ‘democracy’, and ‘human rights’, like their ideological forefathers shouted ‘down with popery’, and ‘liberty, equality, fraternity’, their democracy is really freedom for oligarchs to expand their power and wealth without the encumbrances of a traditional social order. Hence the jubilation of Amercian banking interests when the March 1917 revolution,6 prepared since 1905 by writer George Kennan with funding from Jacob Schiff of Kuhn Loeb & Co., brought down Czarism.7 The dozens of long-planned and funded ‘spontaneous’ ‘colour revolutions’ throughout Central and Eastern European and North Africa are of the same order, as is the combination of social revolt and NATO bombs that gave ‘freedom’ to globalise and privatise the immense mineral wealth of Kosovo, once the mines had been ‘liberated’ from the Serbian state. When the Allies sent their go-to man, Trotsky, from New York to Russia in 1917, and the Germans sent theirs, Lenin, it was a replay of William of Orange being sent from Holland to England. When the Bolsheviks set up Ruskombank under the direction of Olof Aschberg of Nye Banken, Stockholm, it was a replay of William establishing the Bank of England.
How far back this dialectic goes – social revolt in the name of ‘the people’ for the benefit of oligarchy – is indicated by Spengler’s reference to the revolt of Tiberius Gracchus, serving as a lackey for the Equites, a former military caste that had become an oligarchy.8 When the Duc d’Orleans paid the dregs of Marseilles to act as a revolutionary mob, expecting he would become First Citizen of the Republic, he was acting as a precursor of Jacob Schiff and George Soros. What the mob overthrew in the name of ‘liberty’ was the final vestige of the traditional social order of Western Civilisation that had been inherited from Rome, and fine-tuned by the Church.
Rome had its corporations, by which is meant guilds or syndicates of craftsmen. Each craft guild had its patron god. In the Western Civilisation, culminating culturally in the ironically named ‘Dark Age’, where Western culture, from architecture to mathematics, became definitively, distinctively Western – not Greek, Arab, or Chinese – but Western, the guilds of craftsmen and burghers had their patron saints. Religiosity infused the guilds as it did the rest of society. We have been told for centuries by the sceptics and materialists that this was an era of superstition, ignorance and repression, from which we were ‘progressively’ liberated by the Reformation, the Renaissance, Cromwell’s parliamentarianism, 1776 revolt, Jacobinism, The Declaration on the Rights of Man and the Citizen, 1848 liberalism, The Communist Manifesto, The Fourteen Points, The Atlantic Charter, the United Nations Declaration on Human Rights, and other such excrescence that continues to emanate therefrom.
What the 1789 revolution proceeded to do was abolish the guilds as an encumbrance to ‘liberty’ – the liberty of trade, the freedom of the free market. How ‘the people’ gained from this ‘democracy’ does not seem to have been explained. This ‘liberty’ destroyed for all time the ‘fraternity’ that had been provided by the guild in practical, spiritual and cultural ways. Once what is now called a ‘job’, generally pointless, time-wasting drudgery on the economic treadmill, was a ‘calling’ that was divinely ordained, no less. Work was craft. The classes were not static but one could work through by one’s excellence and diligence, from apprentice to journeyman to master. The journeyman could travel throughout Europe and be welcomed as a brother in the guilds of one’s craft; meaning that Europe, or the Western High Culture, was considered a transcendent unity.
Society functioned as an organism or the ‘organic’ or ‘corporative state’ as it has been more recently called. This should not to be confused with the misapplied term ‘corporatism’ as in business influence. Original ‘corporatism’ meant what its etymology implies: a body. Individuals are analogous to cells, the cells compose the organs such as self-governing guilds, self-governing towns, and ‘estates’; and these organs are co-ordinated by the brain: the monarch and his councils. Each unit functioned as an indispensable part of a totality.
If we accept this analogy, we might define anything that disrupts the functioning of this social organism at any level as a social pathology. The class struggle of the Left attacks the social organism on the level of the organs; the individualism of Liberalism attacks the social organism at the cellular level. Both are analogous to cancers. The Free Trade capitalism of Liberalism is not a legacy of the ‘Right’; it is a legacy of the ‘Left.' Both socialism and liberalism emanate from the French Revolution.
Father Denis Fahey, writing in 1943, when he was a very influential theologian, stated that every century in Christendom other than his own had benefited from the Catholic institution of the guilds. ‘These magnificent associations were the glory and the strength of the workers of humble means, and flourished wonderfully throughout the Middle Ages’. In his Introduction to Professor G Kurth’s ‘Workingmen’s Guilds of the Middle Ages’, Father Fahey explains:
Every century has benefited by them, with the single exception of our own. The nineteenth century alone has seen workingmen isolated from one another, with no bond between them, reduced to the condition of grains of dust blown about by the wind, and finally falling into an undeserved state of misery and misfortune. What was the reason of this? Because the French Revolution in its furious hatred of religion wanted to destroy everything that religion had created, and the guilds were the first victims of that lust of destruction. All workingmen ought to know and detest the Chapelier Law of June 14-27, 1791, of which the first article runs as follows: "As one of the fundamental principles of the French Constitution is the annihilation of every kind of guild for citizens of the same status or profession, it is forbidden to re-establish them, under any pretext or in any form whatsoever."
What the proletariat (itself a new class of the uprooted and alienated former burghers, craftsmen and peasants, pushed into slums to work as factory fodder) got instead was class struggle and trades unionism. As Spengler stated, this Leftism was an attempt to seize capital from the new money class; to become the next owners of capital, according to Marx’s historical dialectic; not to transcend capital; which would have required a restoration of faith, village, guild and craft. Any such restoration Marx regarded with unrestrained outrage. He condemned such ‘reactionism’, in The Communist Manifesto, as a movement that had arisen as an alliance among clergymen, noblemen, and what remained of craftsmen who looked to a revival of the guilds. It was ‘reactionism’ because it threw a spanner in Marx’s dialectical ‘wheel of history.’
The French Revolution had destroyed the social foundations of craft industry and agriculture in the name of ‘the people’. Trade unionism the following century was a poor substitute, attempting to catch scraps from the table of commerce, in conflict with the class that the Left had animated from the ruins of the traditional order: the oligarchy. Behind the oligarch stood the banker, the plutocrat, who had more than any other been restrained by the Church with its teachings against usury. Here again, the Reformation has much for which to answer in the name of ‘freedom’: the Protestant states tended to ‘liberate’ the usurer. Protestant theology on commerce and banking undermined Catholic teaching not only against usury, but the ‘just price’, and the labourer being ‘worthy of his hire’.
It was the consequences of capitalism and industrialism that prompted Pope Leo XIII to issue his encyclical ‘Rerum Novarum’ in 1891, and Pope Pius XI his ‘Condition of Workers’ in 1931. They urged a restoration of guilds, and brotherly regard between both the owners of capital and those who laboured without any such means. They provided the political basis for Salazar’s Portugal, Dollfuss’ Austria and corporatist movements and states across the world. Although it is now largely forgotten, during the 1930s the world ideological conflict did not just involve capitalism and socialism, but also corporatism, from Hungary to Italy and Greece, from Australia to Brazil.
Father Fahey commented on the materialist epoch, inaugurated by the Jacobin outlawing of the guilds, that these popes tried to address:
It may be truthfully said that that law constituted the most abominable crime ever committed against the interests of the workingman during the nineteen hundred years of Christianity. Nearly all the misfortunes of the modern worker have arisen from the fact that, when large-scale industry took its rise, he found himself deprived of the numberless resources with which guild organization would have furnished him, to prevent economic decay.
Professor Kurth, writing of the guilds with the hope that they would be restored in the modern era, stated:
Most of the guilds organized a scheme of mutual assistance among their members and came actively and charitably to the aid of those who had fallen into misfortune. Oftentimes they gave a dowry to the daughters of the poorer colleagues or defrayed the expenses of the education of their orphans. Thanks to a small subscription, sick members were, during the time they were incapacitated for work, in receipt of an income that preserved them from destitution. Several guilds even found the means of assuaging the more cruel kinds of suffering outside their own ranks, and bestowed ample alms on leper-houses and hospitals.9
This mutual assistance seems very much superior to the degradation of the uprooted, city-dwelling proletariat of subsequent centuries, and perhaps one could venture to include the system of economics that prevails today. William Cobbett in his ‘History of England since the Reformation’ recorded how much better off the workers and peasantry had been in England prior to the Reformation, in terms of diet, working hours and holidays. Today’s workforce works very much longer than their counterparts of pre-Reformation times.
Moreover, the guilds were self-governing. They formulated their own charters, provided their own welfare funds; they were prospering corporate entities that compared favourably to those of private or family wealth. The elders of the guilds were elected by the whole membership, usually for one term only. General voting to the local councils was exercised through guild membership; therefore it is nonsense to think the commoners devoid of political voice. They were better enfranchised than is the case today with our nebulous democratic electorates and parliaments. Politics, like economics, was exercised at local level. It was the revolutions of ‘the people’, Jacobinism, English parliamentarianism and Reformations that centralised political and economic powers. Master guildsmen underwent examinations comparable to those of today’s universities or polytechnics. A master printer was examined on his knowledge of Greek and Latin. A master baker had to prepare an impressive meal to be judged by a panel of mater guildsmen. The guild diplomas were as honoured as those of the humanities and sciences from the universities.
Kurth states of the situation pertaining since the French Revolution:
Since the French Revolution, owing to the decay of the sense of solidarity in the Mystical Body [of Christ] and the suppression of the guilds, men have come to think of life as a battlefield where the weak are destined to become the victims of the strong. They call this the struggle of existence. These sinister notions have nowhere wrought such havoc as in the realm of industry. Competition has there become the sole rule and every man tries to produce at the cheapest in order to sell at the cheapest: for thus all his rivals are crushed. Everybody now realizes that to achieve this happy result either the workers' wages must be lowered or the public must be cheated in regard to the quality of the goods. In the Middle Ages people thought differently. They believed men were made for mutual assistance not for mutual cannibalism. Their first concern was that the worker might be able to live honourably on the product of his labour, and that the public might be loyally served for their money. To this end every necessary means was adopted to prevent that unbridled competition through which some become unduly rich by exploiting their fellowmen, and reducing multitudes of them to misery.
Today competition is held to be sacrosanct. In place of what the Church called the ‘Mystical Body of Christ’ in the world, we have the mystique of ‘market forces,' which we are assured exist and in which we must have faith despite this mystical force not much being in evidence.
Free Trade Subversive
Marx correctly called Free Trade revolutionary and subversive, and stated on that basis he backed Free Trade.10
Other socialists towards the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries, recognised the inadequacy of the Left in regard to capitalism. Sorelian Syndicalists found common ground with the Catholic-royalists of Action Francaise in detesting the legacy of the 1789 Revolution, and both saw in corporatism the means of establishing the organic society. Henri De Man, the leader of the Belgian Labour party, and Marcel Déat, a leader of French socialism, were among the leaders of the Left who joined with the Right in a synthesis that aimed to transcend capitalism in all respects. The Right never was a manifestation of capitalism. The Right and the Left can be seen in embryo between the Cavaliers and the Roundheads respectively. In France the Left destroyed the remaining vestiges of the organic social order, and inaugurated Free Trade as a constitutional principle. Only the Right has ever represented a resistance to money-interests, and those on the Left who realised this came to the Right. When journalists, academics, and other mental defectives, describe Liberal parties as ‘right-wing’ and even ‘extreme Right’, and governments enacting economic privatisation as being ‘Right-wing’, and ‘conservative’ this is pure bunk.
Spengler, ‘The Decline of the West’, London, Allen and Unwin, 1972, Vol. II, p. 402. ↩
‘Hidradenitis suppurativa’ see Bolton, ‘Psycho-history, and physiology and social revolt’, in Aristokratia Vol. IV, Manticore Press, 2017. ↩
See: Bolton, ‘The Psychotic Left’, London, 2013, pp. 70-100. ↩
See: William Cobbett, ‘The History of the Reformation in England and Ireland’, 1824, p. 166. ↩
See: E Vallance, ‘The Glorious Revolution: 1688 and Britain’s Fight for Liberty’, Little, Brown and Co, 2006. ↩
John B Young, National City Bank, ‘Is a people’s revolution’, New York Times, 16 March, 1917. ↩
New York Times, 18 March 1917; and 24 March 1917, pp. 1-2. ↩
Spengler, ‘The Decline’…, op. cit., 402, 404, note 1. ↩
Kurth, op. cit., Ch. II: Mutual Assistance. ↩
Ibid, p. 52. ↩
Marx, Appendix, ‘Elend der Philosophie’, 1847. ↩