periodic reset of civilizations

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The Call to Resistance: Rebuilding from the Ruins of Modernity
Tags: #Tradition #SpiritualWar #NewOrder #AntiModernism #LegionarySpirit

  1. The End of a Cycle: We stand at the culmination of a degenerative process, where the West has dismantled all legitimate and natural human orders, celebrating materialism and mechanization as “progress.” This illusion has led to moral and spiritual decay, leaving us amidst the ruins of a once-great civilization.
  2. The Legionary Spirit: The foundation of resistance lies in the legionary spirit—an unwavering commitment to fight even when the battle seems lost. This spirit embodies loyalty, honor, and a refusal to compromise, serving as the bedrock for a new Order.
  3. Inner Renewal: The core of the struggle is internal. Before any external reconstruction, individuals must regain inner strength, self-discipline, and moral clarity. A new type of man must emerge, guided by resolute principles and a clear vision of life.
  4. Rejection of Modern Myths: The illusions of democracy, liberalism, socialism, and communism are stages of the same degenerative process. These systems, rooted in materialism and egalitarianism, must be rejected entirely. True order can only be restored through a return to hierarchical, spiritual values.
  5. Anti-Bourgeois and Anti-Proletarian: The new Order transcends the false dichotomies of class struggle. It rejects both the bourgeois obsession with security and the proletarian collectivism of Marxism, aspiring instead to a lucid, virile, and structured world governed by higher principles.
  6. The Role of the Elite: The resurgence of tradition depends on the formation of a new elite—a group of individuals united by a shared vision and unwavering loyalty to the idea. This elite must embody the spirit of resistance and serve as a model for others.
  7. The Failure of Nationalism: The naturalistic conception of the nation and fatherland is outdated. True unity is rooted in the idea, not in shared land or language. The state must be the embodiment of higher principles, transcending narrow nationalism.
  8. Cultural Detoxification: Modern culture, poisoned by Darwinism, psychoanalysis, and existentialism, must be purged. These ideologies degrade the human spirit and undermine the possibility of renewal. A new worldview, rooted in transcendence and hierarchy, must replace them.
  9. Spiritual Foundation: A heroic conception of life requires a sense of transcendence. While specific religious dogmas are not essential, the certainty of a higher reality is crucial for fostering unbreakable resolve and absolute commitment.
  10. The Silent Revolution: The true struggle is not for immediate political gains but for the silent, internal revolution that prepares the ground for a new Order. This revolution will manifest externally when the time is ripe, replacing the forces of subversion with a restored hierarchy and authority.

There is no value in indulging in wishful thinking or the illusions of optimism: we are now at the end of a cycle. For centuries, initially imperceptibly and then with the force of an avalanche, multiple processes have dismantled every legitimate and natural human order in the West, corrupting all higher conceptions of life, action, knowledge, and struggle. This descent, with its accelerating momentum and dizzying pace, has been labeled “progress.” We have celebrated this so-called progress, deluding ourselves into believing that this civilization—a civilization of materialism and machines—was the pinnacle of human achievement, the ultimate destiny of history. Yet, the consequences of this process have awakened at least some to its true nature.

It is well known where and under what symbols the forces of potential resistance attempted to organize. On one side, a nation, previously mired in the mediocrity of liberalism, democracy, and constitutional monarchy, dared to adopt the symbol of Rome as the foundation for a new political vision and an ideal of virility and dignity. Similarly, in another nation, medieval traditions of imperium were revived to reaffirm the principles of authority and the primacy of values rooted in blood, race, and the deepest essence of a people. Meanwhile, in other parts of Europe, movements began to align with this direction, and in Asia, a nation of warriors—the samurai—joined the struggle, maintaining its fidelity to a martial tradition centered on the solar empire of divine right, even while adopting the external trappings of modern civilization.

It is not claimed that these movements clearly distinguished the essential from the superficial, that their ideas were embraced by individuals of true understanding, or that they fully overcame the corrupting influences of the very forces they sought to combat. The process of ideological purification would have required time, following the resolution of immediate political challenges. Nevertheless, it was evident that a gathering of forces was underway, posing a direct challenge to the “modern” civilization of democracies—heirs to the French Revolution—and to the even more degraded collectivist civilization of the Fourth Estate, the faceless mass of Communism. Tensions escalated, culminating in armed conflict. The victors were those who wielded overwhelming power, resorting to alliances and ideological manipulations to crush the emerging world that sought to assert its rightful place. Whether our leaders were equal to the task, whether mistakes were made in timing, preparation, or risk assessment, is beside the point. These details do not diminish the deeper significance of the struggle. Nor does it matter that history now turns against the victors, as the democratic powers, having allied with red subversion to pursue total war and unconditional surrender, now face a greater threat from their former allies.

What matters is this: we now stand amidst a world in ruins.

The question to ask is: do men of strength and resolve still exist among these ruins? And what must they do—what can they still do?

This issue transcends past alliances, as both victors and vanquished now stand on equal footing, with the Second World War reducing Europe to a pawn of external powers and interests. The devastation we witness is primarily moral. We live in an era of moral amnesia and profound disorientation, masked by the rhetoric of consumerism and democracy. Post-war humanity is marked by the loss of character, dignity, ideological decay, the dominance of base interests, and a day-to-day existence. Recognizing this means understanding that the core problem is internal: regaining inner strength, self-discipline, and moral order. Those who believe in purely political solutions or systems, without embodying a new human quality or a clear opposing vision, have failed to learn from recent history. A crucial principle must be clear: even the most theoretically perfect political or social system will fail if its people are morally corrupt. Conversely, a people capable of producing individuals of integrity and instinctive virtue can achieve and sustain a high level of civilization, even with an imperfect political system. We must reject false “political realism” focused solely on programs, partisan issues, and economic solutions. These are secondary. The possibility of salvation lies in the presence of individuals who serve as models, resisting mass demagogy and materialism, and reviving higher sensibilities and values. The true task is to rebuild from the ruins, cultivating a new type of man guided by a resolute spirit, a clear vision of life, and unwavering adherence to fundamental principles.

As spirit, there exists something that can serve as a foundation for the forces of resistance and revival: the legionary spirit. It is the attitude of one who chooses the most arduous path, who fights even when the battle is fundamentally lost, and who embodies the ancient saying: “Loyalty is stronger than fire.” Through this spirit, the traditional idea is affirmed. It is the sense of honor and shame—not diluted by weak morals—that creates a profound, existential distinction between beings, akin to the difference between one race and another.

On the other hand, there is the realization of those for whom what was once an end now appears only as a means. They recognize the illusory nature of many myths, yet remain steadfast in their pursuit of what they hold sacred, navigating the boundary between life and death, beyond the realm of the contingent.

These spiritual forms can serve as the foundation for a new unity. The essential task is to grasp, apply, and extend them from wartime to peacetime—especially this peace, which is merely a fleeting respite and a poorly managed disorder—until new distinctions and groupings emerge. This must occur in terms far more fundamental than a mere “party,” which is only a temporary tool for political struggles, or even a “movement,” if by “movement” we mean a mass phenomenon driven more by quantity than quality, by emotion rather than a rigorous adherence to an idea. What we seek is a silent revolution, unfolding in the depths, where the premises of a new Order are first established internally within individuals. This Order will eventually manifest externally, replacing the forms and forces of a subverted world at the opportune moment. The “style” that must prevail is one of unwavering loyalty to oneself and to an idea, marked by intense focus, rejection of compromise, and total commitment—not only in political struggle but in every aspect of existence: factories, laboratories, universities, the streets, and even personal relationships. We must reach a point where the type of individual we envision, the core of our group, is unmistakable and distinct. Only then can we say, “He is one who embodies the spirit of the movement.”

This was the mission of those who envisioned a new Order for Europe, though it was often thwarted by various factors. Today, this mission must be revived. The conditions are now more favorable, as the situation has become clearer. We need only look around, from public squares to Parliament, to see that our calling is being tested and that we are confronted with a clear measure of what we must reject. In a world of mediocrity, where principles like “You have no choice,” “Morals can wait until we’ve taken care of our stomachs and our skin,” or “These are not times for character” prevail, we must respond firmly: “For us, there is no other way. This is our life, our essence.” Any meaningful achievements will not come from the tactics of agitators or political operatives but from the natural prestige and recognition of individuals, both from the past and, more importantly, from the new generation, who embody their ideals with unwavering resolve.

A new essence must gradually emerge, transcending the confines, structures, and social roles of the past. A new archetype must stand before us, serving as a measure of our strength and vocation. It is crucial—indeed, fundamental—to understand that this archetype is unrelated to economic classes or the conflicts they generate. It can manifest in the form of the rich or the poor, the worker or the aristocrat, the businessman or the explorer, the technician, theologian, farmer, or even the politician in the strictest sense. Yet, this new essence will undergo an internal differentiation, reaching its fullness when there is no ambiguity about the vocations and functions to follow or to lead; when a restored symbol of unwavering authority reigns at the heart of new hierarchical orders.

This vision is inherently anti-bourgeois and anti-proletarian, free from democratic distortions and 'social' frivolities, as it aspires to a world that is lucid, virile, and structured, governed by men and their guides. It rejects the bourgeois obsession with 'security' and the trivial, standardized, conformist, and domesticated existence. It scorns the lifeless constraints of collectivist and mechanistic systems, as well as ideologies that prioritize vague 'social' values over the heroic and spiritual principles that define the true man, the absolute individual. A pivotal achievement will be the revival of an ethos of active impersonality, where the work itself matters, not the individual. Through this, we learn to see ourselves as secondary, for what truly matters is the function, the responsibility, the task undertaken, and the goal pursued. Where this spirit prevails, many challenges—including those of an economic and social nature—will be resolved, as they remain unsolvable without a corresponding shift in spiritual orientation and the eradication of ideological corruptions that obstruct any return to normality. Indeed, they obscure even the recognition of what normality truly entails.

It is crucial, both for doctrinal clarity and practical action, that the members of the new order clearly recognize the chain of causes and effects, as well as the essential continuity of the current that has shaped the various political forms now clashing in the chaos of modern ideologies. Liberalism, democracy, socialism, radicalism, and ultimately Communism and Bolshevism, are not isolated phenomena but sequential stages of the same degenerative process. This decline began when Western man broke free from tradition, rejected higher symbols of authority and sovereignty, and embraced a false sense of individual liberty, reducing himself to an atomized entity rather than a conscious part of an organic, hierarchical whole. This atomization inevitably led to the tyranny of the masses, where materialism and economic idolatry reign supreme.

This process is irreversible and interconnected. Without the French Revolution and liberalism, constitutionalism and democracy would not have emerged; without democracy, socialism and demagogic nationalism would not have arisen; and without socialism, radicalism and Communism would not have followed. These forms, though often seen in opposition, are fundamentally linked, each paving the way for the next in the same downward spiral. The illusion that democracy and liberalism are antithetical to Communism is as absurd as claiming that dusk is the opposite of night or that a diluted poison is fundamentally different from its concentrated form. The so-called “liberated” governments, particularly in Italy, remain blind to these truths, clinging to outdated political concepts and engaging in a futile dance of parliamentary decadence.

Our stance must be one of radical intransigence, a firm rejection of all forms of political decay, whether from the Left or the so-called Right. There can be no compromise with subversion; any concession today ensures total defeat tomorrow. We must uphold the purity of our ideals and be prepared to act decisively when the time comes.

This also requires rejecting the ideological distortions that have infected even some of our youth, who mistakenly believe that the destruction wrought by modernity serves some greater “progress.” They chase after a vague future rather than defending the timeless truths that have always underpinned legitimate social and political order. We must dismiss the notion of “History” as a progressive force; it is men, not abstract historical forces, who shape the world. The label of “reactionary” is meaningless—our position is rooted in positive, original values that do not rely on the false promises of a utopian future.

The supposed antithesis between the “red East” and the “democratic West” is irrelevant to our radical perspective. A potential conflict between these blocs is equally inconsequential. While the immediate threat of Communist victory might seem more dire, both America and Russia represent the same destructive force, albeit in different forms. Americanism, with its cult of materialism, consumerism, and economic growth, is as dangerous as Communism, if not more so, because it operates subtly, eroding tradition and quality through cultural and societal shifts rather than overt coercion. Europe, by embracing Americanism under the guise of democracy, is already on the path to total abdication, a process that may culminate without the need for military conflict. Americanism, whether intentionally or not, paves the way for collectivism, and there is no halting this decline once it has begun.

Our dedication to a radical reconstruction is crucial here, as it rejects not only all forms of Marxist and socialist ideologies but also the pervasive obsession with economics, which we view as a form of collective delusion or possession. The belief that economic factors dominate both individual and collective life, and that the focus on production and material wealth is normal or even desirable, is a grave error. Both capitalism and Marxism are ensnared in this narrow, materialistic worldview. To transcend this, we must reject the notion that human progress is tied to economic systems or the distribution of wealth. Instead, we must affirm that economic concerns, which merely address physical needs, should always remain subordinate in a healthy society. Beyond this, we must uphold a higher order of values—political, spiritual, and heroic—that transcends the categories of “proletarian” or “capitalist.” It is within this higher order that true meaning, hierarchy, and dignity are established, culminating in a superior command, an Imperium.

We must also confront and eliminate the misguided ideas that have infiltrated even our own ranks, such as the glorification of a “state of labor,” “national socialism,” or the “humanism of work.” These concepts, along with attempts to reduce politics to economics, reflect a dangerous regression. Similarly, the obsession with “socialization” and the elevation of the “social idea” as a panacea for civilization are misguided. These notions often stem from a degraded political environment and a misunderstanding of the true nature of the “social question.” Marxism did not emerge in response to a genuine social issue; rather, the social issue is often artificially created by Marxist agitators. As Lenin himself acknowledged, revolutionary movements are rarely spontaneous but are instead driven by external manipulation.

To move forward, we must focus on ideological deproletarianization, purging the socialist influence from those still untainted. Only then can meaningful reforms be pursued without risk. In this context, the corporative idea can serve as a foundation for reconstruction—not as a bureaucratic system that perpetuates class conflict, but as a means to restore unity and solidarity within businesses. This requires transforming businesses into cohesive, almost military-like entities, led by individuals of responsibility, energy, and competence, who inspire loyalty and collaboration among their workers. The goal is the organic reconstruction of business, free from the demagoguery of unions and the false promises of “social justice.” We must revive the dignity, solidarity, and impersonality of ancient guilds, ensuring that each individual finds fulfillment in their rightful role, recognizing their limits and potential for excellence. A craftsman who excels in his craft is superior to a king who fails to uphold his dignity.

Furthermore, we can replace the partisan parliamentary system with a structure based on technical expertise and corporative representation. However, these technical hierarchies must remain subordinate to the higher, integral hierarchy that encompasses the political and spiritual dimensions of the state. The “state of labor” or production is a reductionist concept, akin to reducing a human being to mere physical functions. Our standard must be the integral hierarchical idea, which stands as the true antithesis to both the “East” and the “West.” In this, there can be no compromise.

If the ideal of a virile and organic political unity was a cornerstone of the world that was ultimately overwhelmed—and through it, the Roman symbol was revived in Italy—we must also acknowledge instances where this ideal strayed and nearly succumbed to the errors of 'totalitarianism.' This distinction must be clearly understood to avoid conflating the two and to prevent providing ammunition to those who seek to obscure the truth. Hierarchy is not hierarchism; the latter is a recurring malady that must be resisted. The organic conception of society is fundamentally opposed to state-worshiping rigidity and leveling centralization. True unity transcends both individualism and collectivism, emerging only when individuals stand before one another in their natural diversity and dignity. This unity must be spiritual and centrally orienting, adapting its expression to different realms while opposing the rigid, extrinsic relations characteristic of 'totalitarianism.' Within this framework, the dignity and liberty of the human person—misconceived by liberalism in individualistic, egalitarian, and privatized terms—can be fully realized. It is in this spirit that the structures of a new political and social order must be designed, with clarity and solidity.

Such structures require a central, supreme point of reference—a new symbol of sovereignty and authority. This commitment must be unequivocal, free from ideological wavering. The focus here is not primarily on institutional forms but on cultivating a specific climate, a fluidity that animates relationships of loyalty, dedication, and service, devoid of individualistic ambition. This is necessary to transcend the gray, mechanical, and devious nature of the current political and social order. Today’s situation is at an impasse, as those at the top lack the asceticism required for the pure idea. The correct direction is obscured for many, whether due to unfortunate precedents in national traditions or the tragic events of the past. The inadequacy of the monarchical solution is evident, as its remnants are defended only in a hollow, castrated form, such as constitutional parliamentary monarchy. Equally, we must reject the republican idea, as modern republics are products of Jacobinism and the anti-traditional, anti-hierarchical subversion of the 19th century. A nation transitioning from monarchy to republic can only be seen as degraded. In Italy, loyalty to the Salò Republic’s Fascism must not lead us down the false path of republicanism, as this would betray the core ideology of the Fascist Twenty Years—its doctrine of the state as authority, power, and imperium.

This doctrine must be upheld without compromise, refusing to descend to lower levels or align with any faction. The specific form of the symbol can remain undecided for now. The immediate task is to prepare, in silence, the spiritual environment necessary for the resurgence of a superior, untouchable authority. This authority cannot be embodied by a republican president subject to removal, nor by a tribune or populist leader whose power is formless, devoid of higher legitimacy, and reliant on mass appeal. Such figures represent not the antithesis of democracy but its logical conclusion—a manifestation of Spengler’s 'decline of the West.' This serves as a new touchstone for our side: a sensitivity to these distinctions. Carlyle’s 'Valet-World,' governed by the 'Sham-Hero,' must be rejected in favor of a true, transcendent authority.

We must address another point in a similar vein, focusing on the stance to take regarding nationalism and the concept of the fatherland. This discussion is particularly relevant today, as many, in an attempt to salvage what remains, advocate for a sentimental and naturalistic view of the nation. This perspective is alien to the highest European political tradition and conflicts with the idea of the state we have previously discussed. Even setting aside the fact that the notion of the fatherland is invoked by vastly different groups, including those aligned with red subversion, this conception is increasingly outdated. On one hand, we see the emergence of large supranational blocs, while on the other, the need for a unifying European reference point becomes more apparent—one that transcends the narrow particularism inherent in the naturalistic idea of the nation and nationalism.

The principle at stake is paramount. The political level represents superior unities compared to those defined in naturalistic terms, such as nation, fatherland, or people. At this higher level, what unites or divides is the idea—an idea carried by a distinct elite and embodied in the state. Fascist doctrine, faithful to the best European political tradition, prioritized the idea and the state over the nation and the people, recognizing that the latter only gain significance and form within the framework of the state. In times of crisis, like today, it is crucial to adhere firmly to this doctrine. Our true fatherland lies in the idea, not in shared land or language, but in shared principles. This is the foundation.

Against the collectivistic unity of the nation—des enfants de la patrie—which has dominated since the Jacobin revolution, we must uphold an Order: men loyal to principles, embodying a higher authority and legitimacy rooted in the idea. For practical goals, achieving new national solidarity is possible, but not through compromise. The essential precondition is the formation of a group defined by a shared political idea and vision of life. There is no alternative, especially now. Amidst the ruins, we must initiate a process of renewal, where elites and symbols of sovereignty and authority elevate a people to the status of a traditional great state, rising from chaos. Failing to grasp this realism of the idea means remaining in a sub-political realm of naturalism and sentimentalism, if not outright chauvinism.

We must also be cautious when national traditions are invoked to support our idea, as there exists a Masonic and anti-traditional interpretation of history that distorts the Italian national character, emphasizing its most problematic aspects, such as the communal revolts and Guelphism. This tendentious portrayal of an “Italian character” is one we reject, leaving it to those who celebrated the so-called “second Risorgimento” through the partisan movement.

Idea, order, elite, state, men of the Order—these must define our battle lines for as long as possible.

A few words must be said about the problem of culture, though not too many. We do not overvalue culture. What we term a “worldview” is not rooted in books but is an internal form that may be clearer in an uncultured individual than in an “intellectual” or writer. The harmful effects of a “free culture,” accessible to all, lie in leaving individuals exposed to myriad influences, even when they lack the capacity to engage with them critically or discern properly.

This is not the place to delve deeply into this issue, except to note that today's youth must internally defend themselves against specific currents. We have previously discussed a style of uprightness and self-mastery, which presupposes a proper understanding. Young people, in particular, must recognize the poison fed to an entire generation through distorted and false visions of life that have weakened their inner strength. These poisons persist in culture, science, sociology, and literature, acting as infectious agents that must be identified and countered. Beyond historical materialism and economism, which we have already addressed, the most significant of these are Darwinism, psychoanalysis, and existentialism.

Against Darwinism, we must reaffirm the fundamental dignity of the human person, recognizing its true place not as a mere animal species differentiated by “natural selection” and tied to primitive origins, but as a being capable of transcending the biological plane. Though Darwinism is less discussed today, its essence endures. The biologistic myth of Darwinism, in various forms, functions as a dogma upheld by the materialism of both Marxist and American civilizations. Modern man has grown accustomed to this degraded view, accepting it as natural.

Against psychoanalysis, we must uphold the ideal of an ego that refuses to abdicate, remaining conscious, autonomous, and sovereign in the face of the subconscious and the chaotic forces of sexuality. This ego is neither “repressed” nor torn apart but achieves a harmonious balance of faculties aligned with a higher purpose. Psychoanalysis has shifted authority from the conscious principle to the subconscious, the irrational, and the “collective unconscious,” mirroring the broader societal crisis where the lower undermines the higher. This tendency operates on both individual and societal levels, reinforcing each other.

As for existentialism, even if we distinguish it as a confused philosophy relevant only to narrow circles, it reflects a systematized spiritual crisis. It embodies the fragmented, contradictory human type that experiences freedom as anguish, tragedy, and absurdity, feeling condemned in a valueless world. Yet, Nietzsche pointed the way to reclaiming meaning and establishing an unshakable law and value, even in the face of nihilism, under the banner of a “noble nature.”

These lines of overcoming must not remain intellectual abstractions but must be lived and realized in their direct significance for inner life and conduct. True clarity, uprightness, and strength can only be attained by freeing oneself from the influence of these distorted and false ways of thinking.

Let us briefly address a final point: the relationship with the dominant religion. For us, the secular state, in any form, belongs to the past. We particularly reject the so-called “ethical state,” a product of a shallow and hollow “Idealist” philosophy that attached itself to Fascism but could just as easily support anti-Fascism through a dialectical sleight of hand. However, while we oppose such ideologies and the secular state, we also find a clerical or clericalizing state equally unacceptable.

A religious dimension is essential as a foundation for a truly heroic conception of life, which is crucial for our group. It is necessary to feel within ourselves the certainty of a higher life beyond this earthly existence, as only those who possess this conviction have an unbreakable and indomitable strength. Such individuals are capable of absolute commitment. Without this sense of transcendence, confronting death and disregarding one's life can only occur in fleeting moments of exaltation or irrational outbursts, lacking the discipline that derives from a higher, autonomous purpose. However, this spirituality, which should animate our people, does not require the rigid dogmas of any specific religious confession. The lifestyle we advocate is not one of Catholic moralism, which seeks merely to domesticate humanity through virtue. Politically, this spirituality fosters skepticism toward elements central to the Christian worldview, such as humanitarianism, equality, love, and forgiveness, prioritizing instead honor and justice.

Certainly, if Catholicism could embrace a capacity for high asceticism and, on that basis, transform faith into the soul of a militant force—akin to the spirit of the Crusades or a new Templar order, resolute against chaos, surrender, subversion, and modern materialism—we would support it without hesitation. Even if it merely adhered to the positions of the Syllabus, it would suffice. However, given the current state of confessional religions, which have largely succumbed to mediocrity, bourgeois values, and modernism, and given the post-conciliar Church's shift toward the Left, a mere reference to the spiritual suffices for us. This spirituality serves as evidence of a transcendent reality, infusing our struggle with a higher purpose and attracting an invisible consecration for a new world of leaders and men.

Here are the essential guidelines for the struggle we must undertake, particularly aimed at the younger generation, so they may carry forward the torch and commitment from those who have not faltered. They must learn from past mistakes, discern clearly, and revise what has been—and continues to be—shaped by contingent circumstances. It is crucial not to stoop to the level of our adversaries, avoid relying on simplistic slogans, and refrain from overemphasizing the past, which, though worthy of remembrance, lacks the contemporary and impersonal force of the guiding idea. Equally important is resisting the allure of false political realism, a weakness inherent in every partisan approach. While our forces must engage in the immediate political struggle to carve out space and counter the unchecked advance of the Left, the true priority lies in forming an elite capable of defining an idea with intellectual rigor and unwavering intensity. This idea must unite us, embodied in the figure of the new man—the man of resistance, who stands firm amidst the ruins. If we emerge from this era of crisis and illusory order, the future will belong to this man alone. The modern world is now overwhelmed by the destiny it has forged. Even if this tide cannot be halted, adhering to these principles will preserve our inner resolve. Whatever unfolds, we will do what must be done, and we will remain part of a fatherland no enemy can ever occupy or destroy.

Europe is not merely a geographical entity—it is a spiritual inheritance. The European belongs to the Indo-European tradition, rooted in a solar, heroic ethos. The term Aryan signifies a sacred, regal principle—transcending mere ethnicity, it embodies the kshatriya ideal, the divine order of kingship.

All Solar Peoples have, at some point, broken free from the grip of the earth, abandoning the chthonic goddesses in favor of the solar stars.

Lunar Inversion (Solar-Feminine, Lunar-Masculine):
In all lunar languages, the sun is feminine (Old English sunne, Old Norse sól, Gothic sunnō, Old High German sunna, Modern German die Sonne, Dutch de zon, Arabic ash-shams, Hebrew shemesh), while the moon is masculine (Old English mōna, Old Norse máni, Old High German māno, Modern German der Mond, Dutch de maan, Arabic al-qamar, Hebrew yareach). This inversion reveals the fundamentally lunar, chthonic, and Demetrian nature of their thought.

The Germanic branch, with its tendency toward liberalism and gynocracy, is a decadent deviation from the primordial Aryan spirit. It has succumbed to the leveling forces of modernity, losing touch with the transcendent hierarchy of the sacred.

True Aryan tradition exists beyond moralistic dualism—there is no “good” or “evil,” only order, strength, and the sacred law of domination.

The Degeneration of Language

One clear sign that history has not progressed—except in purely material terms—is the impoverishment of modern languages compared to their ancient counterparts. In structural organicity, articulation, and flexibility, no modern Western “living” language can rival classical Latin or Sanskrit. Among European tongues, only German retains traces of its archaic form (hence its reputation for difficulty), while English and the Scandinavian languages have suffered erosion and flattening. Ancient languages were three-dimensional; modern ones are two-dimensional. Time has corroded them, rendering them “practical” and fluid at the expense of coherence—a decline mirrored across culture and life.

Words, too, have a history, and their shifting meanings reveal changes in the spiritual and intellectual disposition of their speakers. A telling comparison can be made between Latin terms and their Romance derivatives, which often retain the same outward form but have suffered a degradation in essence. The original, higher meaning either lingers only residually or has been distorted, even trivialized.

Examples of Semantic Decline

1 — Virtus
The most striking case is virtus. Modern “virtue” bears almost no relation to its ancient meaning. Virtus signified strength of mind, courage, prowess, and virile fortitude—rooted in vir (man in the strict, not merely biological, sense). Today, the word has been moralized, often conflated with puritanical sexual morality—so much so that Pareto mocked it as “virtuism.” A “virtuous person” now implies the opposite of the classical vir virtute praeditus: where once it denoted heroic pride and fearlessness, it now suggests bourgeois conformity.

Only in limited contexts—such as the “virtues” of a plant or acting “by virtue of” something—does the original sense of virtus as an efficacious force survive.

2 — Honestus. Linked to the ancient concept of honos, this term originally signified ‘honorable,’ ‘noble,’ and ‘of high rank.’ The modern interpretation has degenerated into bourgeois mediocrity—mere ‘decency’ and moral conformity. Where once nato da onesti genitori denoted noble lineage, it is now reduced to a hollow, almost mocking phrase. In Rome, vir honesta facie described a man of superior bearing, just as the Sanskrit arya embodied both spiritual and physical nobility—a concept antithetical to modern egalitarian decay.

3 — Gentilis, gentilitas. Today, these terms evoke the image of a “gentleman”—a polite and amiable figure. Yet, in antiquity, they denoted the idea of gens: lineage, stock, race, or caste. For the Romans, one was gentilis by virtue of qualities inherited from a distinct bloodline. These qualities might, in some cases, manifest as an air of detached nobility—far removed from mere “good manners” (which even an upstart can learn) or the modern diluted notion of “kindness.” Few today grasp the true depth of phrases like “a gentle spirit,” remnants of a nobler understanding preserved only in the language of past writers.

4 — Genialitas
Who is a “genius” today? A hyper-individualistic man, imaginative and brimming with original ideas—exemplified by the artistic “genius,” fetishized as the pinnacle of humanistic and bourgeois civilization, even surpassing the hero, the ascetic, or the aristocrat.

But the Latin genialis points to something far removed from individualism and humanism. It derives from genius, which originally signified the formative, generative, and mystical force of a gens—a blood lineage. Thus, genialitas in the ancient sense was tied to “racial” qualities in the higher, sacred meaning.

Unlike the modern “genius,” this element rejects individualism and arbitrariness. It is anchored in deep roots, obeying an inner necessity through fidelity to supra-personal forces of blood and race—forces that, in patrician lineages, were always bound to sacred tradition.

5 — Pietas. Today, the term “pious” has been degraded to signify a sentimental, humanitarian attitude—synonymous with mere compassion. In ancient Rome, however, pietas belonged to the sacred. It defined the Roman’s primordial bond with the gods, and secondarily with all elements of Tradition, including the State. Before the divine, it signified a disciplined veneration—a recognition of belonging, yet tempered by respect, duty, and loyalty. This was an elevated form of the reverence owed to the pater familias (hence pietas filialis). Pietas also extended to the political sphere: pietas in patriam demanded unwavering fidelity to the State and fatherland. In certain contexts, it even assumed the meaning of iustitia. He who lacks pietas is unjust, impious—a man adrift, ignorant of his ordained place within the higher order, both divine and human.

6 — Innocentia. This term conveyed ideas of clarity and strength, reflecting its ancient meaning—purity of soul, integrity, disinterestedness, and righteousness. It was not merely the negation of guilt. Unlike today’s trivialized notion of an “innocent soul,” which implies naivety or simplemindedness, the ancient concept carried a higher, more virile significance. In modern Romance languages, such as French, “innocent” has even been degraded to denote feeble-mindedness, further illustrating the decline of its original noble meaning.

7 — Patientia. The modern understanding of the term, compared to its ancient meaning, again reveals a process of weakening and degradation. Today, a “patient” person is merely someone who avoids anger, remains passive, and displays tolerance. In Latin, patientia signified one of the fundamental virtues of the Roman: it embodied inner strength, unshakable resolve, and the ability to hold firm, maintaining an indomitable spirit against all trials and adversities. This is why the Roman race was said to possess both the power to achieve greatness and to endure equally formidable hardships (cf. Livy’s famous phrase: et facere et pati fortia romanum est). In contrast, the modern interpretation is entirely diluted—now, even a donkey is held up as an example of so-called “patience.”

8 — Humilitas
In the dominant religious framework of the West, “humility” has been distorted into a false virtue—utterly alien to the Roman conception. True Roman virtus stands in stark opposition to humilitas, which signified baseness, wretchedness, cowardice, and dishonor. For the Romans, death or exile was preferable to such degradation (humilitati vel exilium vel mortem anteponenda esse). Expressions like mens humilis et prava (“a low and evil mind”) and humilitas causam dicentium (denoting the inferior status of the accused) reinforced this disdain.

Race and caste further defined humilitas—humilis natus parentis indicated plebeian birth, a mark of inferiority compared to noble lineage. The modern, economically driven notion of “humble origins” would have been incomprehensible to the Romans, who valued hierarchy and innate superiority. No true Roman would have exalted humilitas as a virtue, much less preached it. As one emperor noted, nothing is more contemptible than the pride of those who claim humility—though this does not justify arrogance. True dignity lies in strength, nobility, and unwavering self-awareness.

9 — Ingenium. The modern term retains only a fragment of the ancient meaning—and, as usual, its least significant aspect. In Latin, ingenium encompassed not just mental acuity, insight, and foresight, but also one’s innate character, the organic and authentic essence of an individual. Thus, vana ingenia denoted those devoid of true character, while redire ad ingenium meant a return to one’s inherent nature, a life in accordance with one’s deepest being. This essential dimension has been erased in modern usage, which now conveys nearly the opposite. Today’s “ingeniousness” reflects intellectualist and dialectical superficiality—a restless, hyperactive cleverness—directly opposed to the classical sense of ingenium as the expression of a disciplined, character-rooted mode of thought and being.

10 — Labor. The shift in the meaning of the word labor reflects a profound transformation in worldview. In Latin, labor primarily conveyed toil, suffering, and burden—never virtue. The Greek ponos carried a similar sense. For the Romans, labor denoted servile, material exertion, opposed to higher action (agere), which was free, deliberate, and dignified. Those engaged in meaningful, vocation-driven craftsmanship were artifex or opifex—never mere “workers.”

The modern glorification of labor exposes the plebeian degradation of the West. Industrialization has stripped work of any higher purpose, yet it is now exalted as an ethical duty—a perverse inversion. Traditional societies elevated action and art above base toil; modernity reduces even art and action to mechanized drudgery, driven by profit rather than vocation.

11 — Otium. This term has undergone an inversion in meaning. In modernity, “idleness” is seen as uselessness—a state of indolence, distraction, and passivity. Yet, in the Roman tradition, otium signified a sacred pause: a meditative state of concentration, calm, and contemplation. While misuse could lead to dissipation (hebescere otio), its true meaning was nobler. For Cicero, Seneca, and others, otium was the necessary counterbalance to action—without it, action degenerates into mere agitation (negotium) or vulgar labor.

The Greeks, as Cicero noted, flourished not only through intellect but through otium and diligence. Scipio the Elder embodied this higher idleness: “He was never less idle than when idle, nor less alone than in solitude.” Sallust declared his leisure more beneficial to the State than others' busyness. Seneca’s De Otio elevates otium to pure contemplation, framing it as service to the greater, metaphysical State—the realm of gods and eternal principles. True otium is not escapism but an ascent to the perception of the transcendent order.

Even Catholicism once recognized sacrum otium—sacred contemplation—before surrendering to modern decadence. Today, in a civilization reduced to mechanical toil and neurotic frenzy, the classical meaning of otium is lost. Modern man flees himself, drowning in distractions—radio, television, sports, politics—anything to avoid solitude. These are the narcotics of a disintegrated age, ensuring no inner life remains, no resistance to the collective current of so-called “progress.”

12 — Theoria. The modern degradation of the Greek term theoria reflects a broader decline. Today, “theory” implies lifeless abstraction, detached from reality—a sentiment echoed in the quote: “All theory is grey, my friend. But forever green is the tree of life.” This is a distortion of its original meaning. True theoria signifies an active, fulfilling vision, the operation of the highest principle in man: the (Olympian intellect), which will be explored later.

13 — Servitium. The Latin verb servio, servire carries the positive connotation of “to be faithful,” yet its predominant meaning is the negative one: “to be a servant.” This latter sense forms the basis of servitium, which explicitly denoted slavery or serfdom, deriving from servus (slave). In modernity, the term “to serve” has gained widespread use while shedding its degrading implications, particularly among Anglo-Saxon peoples, where “service” as “social service” has been elevated into an ethical ideal—the sole modern ethic. Just as the absurdity of “intellectual workers” goes unnoticed, so too has the sovereign been reduced to “the first servant of the nation.”

The Romans, far from being a race of “idlers,” exemplified the highest political loyalty—to the State and its leaders—yet in a fundamentally different spirit. The shift in the essence of these words is no accident. The modern vulgarization of terms like labor, servitium, and otium reflects a deeper decline—a movement away from virile, aristocratic, and qualitative values.

14 — Stipendium. Today, the term “stipend” evokes bureaucracy, civil servants, and payday. In ancient Rome, however, stipendium referred almost exclusively to military service. Stipendium merere meant to serve in the army under a commander. Emeritis stipendis denoted completion of military service; homo nullius stipendii described one unfamiliar with martial discipline. Stipendis multa habere signified participation in many campaigns. The contrast is telling.

Similarly, Latin terms like studium and studiosus retain only fragments of their original meaning. Today, studium suggests dry academic pursuits, but in Latin, it conveyed intensity, fervor, even love. In re studium ponere meant to take something deeply to heart. Studium bellandi was the love of combat. Homo agendi studiosus was a man of action—the antithesis of the modern laborer. Studiosi Caesaris did not mean scholars of Caesar, but his devoted followers.

Other forgotten meanings include:
– Docilitas: not docility, but a readiness to learn.
– Ingenuus: not “ingenuous,” but free-born, non-servile.
– Humanitas: not modern “humanity,” but self-cultivation and lived experience.
– Certus: not mere certainty, but resolve. Certum est mihi meant “it is my decision.” Certus gladio was one skilled with the sword. Diebus certis meant fixed, appointed days—a certainty rooted in will, not chance.

This leads to an active conception of certainty, as in Vico’s verum et factum convertuntur—later diluted by neo-Hegelian deviations.

The original Roman understandings of fatum, felicitas, and fortuna will be examined next.

15 — Fatum: The Traditional Roman Concept of Fate

In modernity, “fate” is often understood as a blind, oppressive force that crushes human will, leading to tragedy and misfortune. This negative view fosters fatalism, where man is powerless against an indifferent, deterministic universe.

In contrast, the ancient Roman conception of fatum was fundamentally different. Rather than a blind law, fatum represented a meaningful, intelligent order—a divine will governing the cosmos and history. Rooted in the Indo-European rih-tuh, Roman fatum reflected the idea of a higher, just law unfolding through events. The Fata (Fates) were not mere arbiters of doom but embodiments of cosmic justice, despite later chthonic influences distorting their image.

Rome, as a civilization of action, saw fatum not as an abstract metaphysical principle but as a dynamic force within history. The term derives from fari (to speak), linking it to fas—divine law as revealed through oracles and omens. Thus, fatum was both the decree of the gods and the guiding word that allowed men to align their actions with higher forces.

Traditional Roman piety (pietas) demanded that man actively conform to this sacred order. Success—fortuna and felicitas—was not mere luck but the result of acting in harmony with fatum. Military and political triumphs were seen as proof of this alignment, while failures stemmed from neglecting divine signs (religio) and acting in hubristic isolation from the gods.

This worldview mirrors the principles of traditional technology: just as modern engineers harness natural laws for efficiency, ancient Romans sought to align with cosmic laws to achieve “felicitous” action. Rome’s greatness, as some historians recognize, lay in this sacred discipline—where freedom meant not rebellion against fate, but conscious participation in its divine order.

The same principles apply when confronting spiritual and divine forces rather than mere material laws. For traditional man, understanding—or at least sensing—these forces was essential to discern the conditions favorable to action and to recognize what should or should not be done. To defy fate, to rebel against destiny, was not some Romantic “Promethean” defiance celebrated by modernity—it was sheer folly. Impiety—the absence of pietas, the rupture of religio, the severance from the sacred order—was synonymous with stupidity, childishness, and arrogance.

Unlike modern technology, the laws of historical reality were not seen as dead, mechanical forces detached from man and his purpose. The divine order, linked to fate, operates up to a certain threshold—beyond which it is no longer absolute but merely influential (astra inclinant, non determinant). Here begins the properly human and historical domain. Ideally, this realm should extend the divine will: man’s free action must actualize what was only latent. When this occurs, history becomes sacred revelation, and man—no longer acting for himself—assumes a transcendent dignity, elevating the human world into a higher order.

This is far from fatalism. To oppose fate is irrational; to align with it is transformative. The ignorant are dragged by events (fata nolentem trahunt), while the knowing, by embracing fate, are guided toward a higher purpose (volentem ducunt). Thus, man transcends his individuality, becoming an instrument of the cosmic will.

In ancient Rome, history and institutions often reflected a sacred encounter between the human and the divine—where higher forces manifested through human action. Consider the Roman cult of Jupiter: the vir triumphalis did not merely celebrate the god but embodied his victorious essence. As Kerényi and Altheim observed, the triumphant imperator wore Jupiter’s insignia because the god was not just the cause of victory—he was the victor. Rome’s genius lay in realizing the divine in action and political order, transforming myth into history and history into a higher, fateful mythos.

This reveals a profound truth: such moments signify an identity between human will and transcendent forces. Here, freedom is not mere subjective choice but alignment with a higher order. To resist fatum is a sterile defiance, a hollow gesture against the fabric of reality. True freedom emerges when the individual becomes an instrument of this order, channeling forces that would otherwise remain indifferent to human desires.

How, then, did modernity reduce fatum to a blind, oppressive force? This degradation stems from the rise of individualism and humanism—the severance from the sacred, leaving only an incomprehensible, alien power. “Fate” now symbolizes forces man neither understands nor controls, yet which he has unwittingly empowered through his own spiritual decline.

These reflections on fatum conclude our examples, illustrating the need for a philology that penetrates beyond words to their spiritual roots. Such study should extend beyond Latin to the broader Indo-European tradition, revealing deeper connections obscured by time.

Title: The Decay of Words: A Traditionalist Critique of Modern Linguistic Degeneration
Tags: #Language #Rome #SpiritualDecline #Modernity #Tradition

  1. Virtus vs. Virtue – Ancient virtus signified virile strength and heroism; modern “virtue” is moralistic, puritanical, and effeminate.
  2. Honestus vs. Honest – Originally denoting nobility and honor, now reduced to bourgeois “decency.”
  3. Gentilis vs. Gentle – Once tied to lineage and racial quality, now mere superficial politeness.
  4. Genialitas vs. Genius – From a racial-spiritual force of the gens to individualistic artistic fetishism.
  5. Pietas vs. Piety – Sacred duty to gods and state degraded into sentimental humanitarianism.
  6. Innocentia vs. Innocence – Once implied purity and integrity; now connotes weakness and idiocy.
  7. Patientia vs. Patience – Roman endurance and fortitude diminished into passive tolerance.
  8. Humilitas vs. Humility – A Roman vice (baseness) twisted into a Christian “virtue.”
  9. Labor vs. Work – From toil and punishment to a plebeian cult of mechanized drudgery.
  10. Otium vs. Idleness – Sacred contemplation replaced by modern distraction and decadence.
    The decay of language mirrors the decline of the West—words once anchored in hierarchy, race, and sacred order now reflect democratic vulgarity. Only a return to Tradition can restore their true meaning.

“Conflating Christianity with Catholicism; two things diametrically-opposed. It's to be expected from an ignorant simpleton intent on hating Christ. Willful ignorance, at its best.”

Me: Typical tribal mentality, clinging to a chthonic cult of abandonment. Christianity is inherently degenerate; the only remnant of value in Catholicism is its preservation of rites (though devoid of true understanding). Beyond that, Christianity offers nothing valuable—only the production of ghouls, destined for reintegration into the Earth’s primordial forces, their true origin.

Metaphysical part:

Title: The Subversion of Rome: Christianity’s Dissolutive Role in the Western Tradition
Tags: #Rome #Christianity #Decadence #SpiritualSubversion #ImperialDecline #MetaphysicalWar #AntiTradition #KaliYuga #Evola #Traditionalism

  1. Decline of Roman Virtus – Christianity accelerated the erosion of Roman virtus, replacing the heroic and patrician ethos with a morality of humility, sin, and passive salvation.
  2. Asiatic and Semitic Influences – The religion emerged from Judaic messianism and Eastern cults, importing a spirituality of suffering, egalitarianism, and divine abasement alien to the Roman-Indo-European spirit.
  3. Rejection of Imperial Sacrality – Christians refused the sacrum of the Empire, denying the fides owed to Caesar and undermining the unity of spiritual and temporal authority (regnum et sacerdotium).
  4. Dualism and Deconsecration – Christian supernaturalism severed nature from the divine, demonizing the ancient cosmic religion and fostering an asceticism hostile to life and hierarchy.
  5. Anti-Heroic Pathos – Early Christianity stigmatized the active, warrior-aristocratic ideal, replacing it with a slave morality of redemption through suffering and grace.
  6. Egalitarian Subversion – The doctrine of universal brotherhood negated the Roman principle of organic hierarchy, laying the groundwork for later democratic and collectivist degenerations.
  7. The Feminine Devolution – The cult of the “Mother of God” revived chthonic, telluric religiosity, contrasting with the Olympian, masculine spirituality of Rome’s origins.
  8. Imperial Degeneration – Even as the Caesars upheld solar and liturgical symbolism, their power waned amid Christian infiltration, which corroded the last remnants of traditional legitimacy.
  9. The Ass as Symbol – The ass, an infernal emblem in multiple traditions, accompanied Christ’s mythos, signaling Christianity’s role as a dissolutive force in the Roman cosmos.
  10. The Kali Yuga Acceleration – Christianity epitomized the Dark Age’s inversion, exalting the lowest human type (the sinner, the outcast) and dismantling the last structures of the ancient sacred order.
    Conclusion: Rome fell not merely from external pressures but from an internal spiritual betrayal—Christianity severed the West from its transcendent roots, setting the stage for centuries of decline. Only a return to the Imperium of the Spirit can reverse this dissolution.

The rise of Christianity signaled the onset of irreversible decline. Rome, once a sacred and virile civilization rooted in ius, fas, and mos, had severed itself from its primordial Atlantic and Etruscan-Pelasgian origins, crushing the remnants of Southern decadence and resisting foreign cults. Yet, despite its earlier resistance, Rome succumbed to the Asiatic tide—mystical, pantheistic, and effeminate cults that eroded its inner virtus and corrupted its imperial essence.

The Caesars, rather than reviving the Roman spirit through hierarchy and selection, imposed a sterile centralization, dissolving distinctions of rank and citizenship. The Senate’s decline mirrored the empire’s disintegration, as the imperial idea—though still sacred in form—became a hollow symbol, carried by unworthy hands. Even those with traces of ancient Roman dignity, like Julian, could not reverse the decay.

The imperial age was marked by contradiction: while its theology of kingship grew more refined—evoking solar symbolism, divine laws, and liturgical consecration—the reality was one of chaos. The Caesars were hailed as bringers of a new Golden Age, their adventus likened to a mystical epiphany, their rule tied to cosmic signs. Yet this sacred façade could not mask the empire’s inner collapse—a descent into leveling, cosmopolitanism, and spiritual ruin.

This was but a fleeting light in an era dominated by dark forces—passions, violence, and betrayals spreading like a plague. Over time, the situation grew ever more chaotic and bloody, despite occasional strong leaders who imposed order on a crumbling world. Eventually, the imperial function became merely symbolic; Rome clung to it desperately amid relentless upheavals. Yet, in truth, the throne stood empty. Christianity only deepened this disintegration.

While primitive Christianity contained diverse elements, we must not overlook their fundamental opposition to the Roman spirit. My focus is not on isolated traditional fragments within historical civilizations, but on the overall function and direction of these currents. Thus, even if traces of tradition persist in Christianity—particularly Catholicism—they do not negate its essentially subversive nature.

We recognize the ambiguous spirituality of Judaism, from which Christianity emerged, as well as the decadent Asiatic cults that aided its spread beyond its origins.

Christianity’s immediate precursor was not traditional Judaism but rather prophetic currents dominated by notions of sin and expiation—a desperate spirituality that replaced the warrior Messiah (an emanation of the “Lord of Hosts”) with the suffering “Son of Man,” a sacrificial figure destined to become the hope of the afflicted and the object of an ecstatic cult. The mystical figure of Christ drew power from this messianic pathos, amplified by apocalyptic expectations. By proclaiming Jesus as Savior and rejecting the “Law” (Jewish orthodoxy), early Christianity embraced themes intrinsic to the Semitic soul—themes of division and decline, antithetical to true tradition, particularly the Roman one. Pauline theology universalized these elements, severing them from their origins.

Orphism, meanwhile, facilitated Christianity’s spread not as an initiatory doctrine but as a profanation akin to Mediterranean decadence—centered on “salvation” in a demotic, universalist sense, detached from race, caste, and tradition. This appealed to the rootless masses, culminating in Christianity’s crystallization as an antitraditional force.

Doctrinally, Christianity is a degenerate Dionysianism, appealing to irrationality rather than heroic or sapiential ascent. It substitutes faith for initiation, feeding on the anguish of a fractured humanity. Its eschatological terror—eternal salvation or damnation—deepened this crisis, offering only the illusory liberation of the crucified Christ. Though bearing traces of mystery symbolism, Christianity debased it into sentimental mysticism, reducing the divine to human suffering.

Unlike the Roman and Indo-European spirit, which upheld divine impassibility and heroic distance, Christianity embraced a pathetic soteriology—the dying god of Pelasgic-Dionysian cults, now absolutized (“I am the way...”). The virginal birth and Marian cult further reflect the Great Mother’s influence, antithetical to Olympian virility. The Church itself adopted the Mother archetype, fostering a piety of abjection—prayerful, sin-conscious, and passive.

Early Christianity’s hostility toward virile spirituality—denouncing heroic transcendence as pride—confirms its emasculated nature. Even its martyrs, though fanatical, could not redeem Christianity’s essence: a lunar, priestly decline.

Christian morality reveals clear Southern and non-Aryan influences. Whether equality and love were proclaimed in the name of a god or a goddess matters little—this belief in human equality stems from a worldview antithetical to the heroic ideal of personality. Such egalitarianism, rooted in brotherhood and communal love, became the mystical foundation of a social order opposed to the pure Roman spirit. Instead of hierarchical universality—which affirms differentiation—Christianity promoted collectivity through the symbol of Christ’s mystical body, an involutive regression that even Romanized Catholicism could not fully overcome.

Some credit Christianity for its supernatural dualism, yet this derives from Semitic thought, functioning in direct opposition to traditional dualism. Traditional doctrine saw the two natures as a basis for higher realization, whereas Christian dualism rigidly opposes natural and supernatural orders without subordination to a higher principle. This absolutized division negated active spiritual participation, reducing man to a mere “creature” severed from God by original sin—a Jewish-derived concept that deepened the divide.

Christian spirituality thus framed divine influence passively—as grace, election, or salvation—while rejecting heroic human potential. Humility, fear of God, and mortification replaced active transcendence. Though fleeting references to spiritual violence (Matthew 11:12) or divine potential (John 10:34) exist, they had no real impact. Christianity universalized the path of the inferior human type, reflecting the decline of the Kali Yuga.

The discussion concerns man’s relationship with the divine. A second consequence of Christian dualism was the desacralization of nature. Christian “supernaturalism” led to the definitive misunderstanding of the natural myths of antiquity. Nature was stripped of its living essence; the magical and symbolic perception that underpinned the priestly sciences was rejected and condemned as “pagan.” After Christianity’s triumph, these sciences rapidly degenerated, leaving only a weakened remnant in later Catholic ritual traditions. Nature thus came to be seen as foreign, even demonic. This shift also laid the groundwork for a world-denying, life-rejecting asceticism (Christian asceticism), entirely opposed to the classical Roman spirit.

The third consequence unfolded in the political sphere. The declarations “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36) and “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and unto God what is God’s” (Matt. 22:21) struck directly at the traditional concept of sovereignty and the unity of spiritual and temporal power, which Imperial Rome had formally restored. According to Gelasius I, no man after Christ could be both king and priest; any claim to unite sacerdotium and regnum was deemed a diabolical counterfeit of Christ’s unique priestly kingship. Here, the clash between Christian and Roman ideals erupted openly.

The Roman pantheon, ever inclusive, could have accommodated the Christian cult as merely another sect emerging from Jewish schism. Imperial universalism sought to unify and order all cults without suppressing them, demanding only a supreme fides—a ritual acknowledgment of the transcendent principle embodied in the Augustus. The Christians refused this act, rejecting the sacrificial offering before the imperial symbol as incompatible with their faith. This obstinacy, incomprehensible to Roman magistrates, fueled the martyrdom epidemic.

Thus, a new universalism, rooted in metaphysical dualism, displaced the old. The traditional hierarchical view—where loyalty carried supernatural sanction, since all power descended from above—was undermined. In this fallen world, only the civitas diaboli remained possible; the civitas Dei was relegated to an otherworldly plane, a gathering of those who, yearning confusedly for the beyond, awaited Christ’s return. Where this idea did not breed defeatism and subversion, where Caesar still received “what was Caesar’s,” fides was reduced to secularized, contingent obedience to mere temporal power. Paul’s dictum—”all authority comes from God”—proved hollow, stripped of real force.

Thus, while Christianity upheld a spiritual and supernatural principle, historically it acted in a dissociative and destructive manner. Rather than revitalizing the materialized and fragmented remnants of the Roman world, it introduced a foreign current, aligning with what in Rome had ceased to be Roman—forces that the Northern Light had once held in check throughout an entire cycle. Christianity severed the last remaining connections and hastened the demise of a great tradition. Rutilius Namatianus rightly equated Christians with Jews, as both were hostile to Rome’s authority. He accused the former of spreading a pestilence (excisae pestis contagia) beyond Judea, and the latter of corrupting both race and spirit (tunc mutabantur corpora, nunc animi).

The symbolism of the ass in the Christian myth is revealing. Present at Christ’s birth, the flight to Egypt, and his entry into Jerusalem, the ass traditionally represents an infernal, dissolutive force. In Egypt, it was sacred to Set, the antisolar deity of rebellion. In India, it was the mount of Mudevi, the infernal feminine. In Greece, it was tied to Hecate and the chthonic realm, consuming Ocnus’s work in Lethe. This symbol marks the hidden force behind primitive Christianity’s success—a force that rises where the “cosmos” principle wavers.

Christianity’s triumph was only possible because the Roman heroic cycle had been exhausted: the “Roman race” broken in spirit (evidenced by Julian’s failed restoration), traditions faded, and the imperial symbol degraded amidst ethnic chaos and cosmopolitan decay.

Title: The Subversion of Rome: Christianity’s Dissolutive Role in the Western Tradition
Tags: #Rome #Christianity #Decadence #SpiritualSubversion #ImperialDecline #MetaphysicalWar #AntiTradition #KaliYuga #Evola #Traditionalism

  1. Decline of Roman Virtus – Christianity accelerated the erosion of Roman virtus, replacing the heroic and patrician ethos with a morality of humility, sin, and passive salvation.
  2. Asiatic and Semitic Influences – The religion emerged from Judaic messianism and Eastern cults, importing a spirituality of suffering, egalitarianism, and divine abasement alien to the Roman-Indo-European spirit.
  3. Rejection of Imperial Sacrality – Christians refused the sacrum of the Empire, denying the fides owed to Caesar and undermining the unity of spiritual and temporal authority (regnum et sacerdotium).
  4. Dualism and Deconsecration – Christian supernaturalism severed nature from the divine, demonizing the ancient cosmic religion and fostering an asceticism hostile to life and hierarchy.
  5. Anti-Heroic Pathos – Early Christianity stigmatized the active, warrior-aristocratic ideal, replacing it with a slave morality of redemption through suffering and grace.
  6. Egalitarian Subversion – The doctrine of universal brotherhood negated the Roman principle of organic hierarchy, laying the groundwork for later democratic and collectivist degenerations.
  7. The Feminine Devolution – The cult of the “Mother of God” revived chthonic, telluric religiosity, contrasting with the Olympian, masculine spirituality of Rome’s origins.
  8. Imperial Degeneration – Even as the Caesars upheld solar and liturgical symbolism, their power waned amid Christian infiltration, which corroded the last remnants of traditional legitimacy.
  9. The Ass as Symbol – The ass, an infernal emblem in multiple traditions, accompanied Christ’s mythos, signaling Christianity’s role as a dissolutive force in the Roman cosmos.
  10. The Kali Yuga Acceleration – Christianity epitomized the Dark Age’s inversion, exalting the lowest human type (the sinner, the outcast) and dismantling the last structures of the ancient sacred order.
    Conclusion: Rome fell not merely from external pressures but from an internal spiritual betrayal—Christianity severed the West from its transcendent roots, setting the stage for centuries of decline. Only a return to the Imperium of the Spirit can reverse this dissolution.

The rise of Christianity signaled the onset of irreversible decline. Rome, once a sacred and virile civilization rooted in ius, fas, and mos, had severed itself from its primordial Atlantic and Etruscan-Pelasgian origins, crushing the remnants of Southern decadence and resisting foreign cults. Yet, despite its earlier resistance, Rome succumbed to the Asiatic tide—mystical, pantheistic, and effeminate cults that eroded its inner virtus and corrupted its imperial essence.

The Caesars, rather than reviving the Roman spirit through hierarchy and selection, imposed a sterile centralization, dissolving distinctions of rank and citizenship. The Senate’s decline mirrored the empire’s disintegration, as the imperial idea—though still sacred in form—became a hollow symbol, carried by unworthy hands. Even those with traces of ancient Roman dignity, like Julian, could not reverse the decay.

The imperial age was marked by contradiction: while its theology of kingship grew more refined—evoking solar symbolism, divine laws, and liturgical consecration—the reality was one of chaos. The Caesars were hailed as bringers of a new Golden Age, their adventus likened to a mystical epiphany, their rule tied to cosmic signs. Yet this sacred façade could not mask the empire’s inner collapse—a descent into leveling, cosmopolitanism, and spiritual ruin.

This was but a fleeting light in an era dominated by dark forces—passions, violence, and betrayals spreading like a plague. Over time, the situation grew ever more chaotic and bloody, despite occasional strong leaders who imposed order on a crumbling world. Eventually, the imperial function became merely symbolic; Rome clung to it desperately amid relentless upheavals. Yet, in truth, the throne stood empty. Christianity only deepened this disintegration.

While primitive Christianity contained diverse elements, we must not overlook their fundamental opposition to the Roman spirit. My focus is not on isolated traditional fragments within historical civilizations, but on the overall function and direction of these currents. Thus, even if traces of tradition persist in Christianity—particularly Catholicism—they do not negate its essentially subversive nature.

We recognize the ambiguous spirituality of Judaism, from which Christianity emerged, as well as the decadent Asiatic cults that aided its spread beyond its origins.

Christianity’s immediate precursor was not traditional Judaism but rather prophetic currents dominated by notions of sin and expiation—a desperate spirituality that replaced the warrior Messiah (an emanation of the “Lord of Hosts”) with the suffering “Son of Man,” a sacrificial figure destined to become the hope of the afflicted and the object of an ecstatic cult. The mystical figure of Christ drew power from this messianic pathos, amplified by apocalyptic expectations. By proclaiming Jesus as Savior and rejecting the “Law” (Jewish orthodoxy), early Christianity embraced themes intrinsic to the Semitic soul—themes of division and decline, antithetical to true tradition, particularly the Roman one. Pauline theology universalized these elements, severing them from their origins.

Orphism, meanwhile, facilitated Christianity’s spread not as an initiatory doctrine but as a profanation akin to Mediterranean decadence—centered on “salvation” in a demotic, universalist sense, detached from race, caste, and tradition. This appealed to the rootless masses, culminating in Christianity’s crystallization as an antitraditional force.

Doctrinally, Christianity is a degenerate Dionysianism, appealing to irrationality rather than heroic or sapiential ascent. It substitutes faith for initiation, feeding on the anguish of a fractured humanity. Its eschatological terror—eternal salvation or damnation—deepened this crisis, offering only the illusory liberation of the crucified Christ. Though bearing traces of mystery symbolism, Christianity debased it into sentimental mysticism, reducing the divine to human suffering.

Unlike the Roman and Indo-European spirit, which upheld divine impassibility and heroic distance, Christianity embraced a pathetic soteriology—the dying god of Pelasgic-Dionysian cults, now absolutized (“I am the way...”). The virginal birth and Marian cult further reflect the Great Mother’s influence, antithetical to Olympian virility. The Church itself adopted the Mother archetype, fostering a piety of abjection—prayerful, sin-conscious, and passive.

Early Christianity’s hostility toward virile spirituality—denouncing heroic transcendence as pride—confirms its emasculated nature. Even its martyrs, though fanatical, could not redeem Christianity’s essence: a lunar, priestly decline.

Christian morality reveals clear Southern and non-Aryan influences. Whether equality and love were proclaimed in the name of a god or a goddess matters little—this belief in human equality stems from a worldview antithetical to the heroic ideal of personality. Such egalitarianism, rooted in brotherhood and communal love, became the mystical foundation of a social order opposed to the pure Roman spirit. Instead of hierarchical universality—which affirms differentiation—Christianity promoted collectivity through the symbol of Christ’s mystical body, an involutive regression that even Romanized Catholicism could not fully overcome.

Some credit Christianity for its supernatural dualism, yet this derives from Semitic thought, functioning in direct opposition to traditional dualism. Traditional doctrine saw the two natures as a basis for higher realization, whereas Christian dualism rigidly opposes natural and supernatural orders without subordination to a higher principle. This absolutized division negated active spiritual participation, reducing man to a mere “creature” severed from God by original sin—a Jewish-derived concept that deepened the divide.

Christian spirituality thus framed divine influence passively—as grace, election, or salvation—while rejecting heroic human potential. Humility, fear of God, and mortification replaced active transcendence. Though fleeting references to spiritual violence (Matthew 11:12) or divine potential (John 10:34) exist, they had no real impact. Christianity universalized the path of the inferior human type, reflecting the decline of the Kali Yuga.

The discussion concerns man’s relationship with the divine. A second consequence of Christian dualism was the desacralization of nature. Christian “supernaturalism” led to the definitive misunderstanding of the natural myths of antiquity. Nature was stripped of its living essence; the magical and symbolic perception that underpinned the priestly sciences was rejected and condemned as “pagan.” After Christianity’s triumph, these sciences rapidly degenerated, leaving only a weakened remnant in later Catholic ritual traditions. Nature thus came to be seen as foreign, even demonic. This shift also laid the groundwork for a world-denying, life-rejecting asceticism (Christian asceticism), entirely opposed to the classical Roman spirit.

The third consequence unfolded in the political sphere. The declarations “My kingdom is not of this world” (John 18:36) and “Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and unto God what is God’s” (Matt. 22:21) struck directly at the traditional concept of sovereignty and the unity of spiritual and temporal power, which Imperial Rome had formally restored. According to Gelasius I, no man after Christ could be both king and priest; any claim to unite sacerdotium and regnum was deemed a diabolical counterfeit of Christ’s unique priestly kingship. Here, the clash between Christian and Roman ideals erupted openly.

The Roman pantheon, ever inclusive, could have accommodated the Christian cult as merely another sect emerging from Jewish schism. Imperial universalism sought to unify and order all cults without suppressing them, demanding only a supreme fides—a ritual acknowledgment of the transcendent principle embodied in the Augustus. The Christians refused this act, rejecting the sacrificial offering before the imperial symbol as incompatible with their faith. This obstinacy, incomprehensible to Roman magistrates, fueled the martyrdom epidemic.

Thus, a new universalism, rooted in metaphysical dualism, displaced the old. The traditional hierarchical view—where loyalty carried supernatural sanction, since all power descended from above—was undermined. In this fallen world, only the civitas diaboli remained possible; the civitas Dei was relegated to an otherworldly plane, a gathering of those who, yearning confusedly for the beyond, awaited Christ’s return. Where this idea did not breed defeatism and subversion, where Caesar still received “what was Caesar’s,” fides was reduced to secularized, contingent obedience to mere temporal power. Paul’s dictum—”all authority comes from God”—proved hollow, stripped of real force.

Thus, while Christianity upheld a spiritual and supernatural principle, historically it acted in a dissociative and destructive manner. Rather than revitalizing the materialized and fragmented remnants of the Roman world, it introduced a foreign current, aligning with what in Rome had ceased to be Roman—forces that the Northern Light had once held in check throughout an entire cycle. Christianity severed the last remaining connections and hastened the demise of a great tradition. Rutilius Namatianus rightly equated Christians with Jews, as both were hostile to Rome’s authority. He accused the former of spreading a pestilence (excisae pestis contagia) beyond Judea, and the latter of corrupting both race and spirit (tunc mutabantur corpora, nunc animi).

The symbolism of the ass in the Christian myth is revealing. Present at Christ’s birth, the flight to Egypt, and his entry into Jerusalem, the ass traditionally represents an infernal, dissolutive force. In Egypt, it was sacred to Set, the antisolar deity of rebellion. In India, it was the mount of Mudevi, the infernal feminine. In Greece, it was tied to Hecate and the chthonic realm, consuming Ocnus’s work in Lethe. This symbol marks the hidden force behind primitive Christianity’s success—a force that rises where the “cosmos” principle wavers.

Christianity’s triumph was only possible because the Roman heroic cycle had been exhausted: the “Roman race” broken in spirit (evidenced by Julian’s failed restoration), traditions faded, and the imperial symbol degraded amidst ethnic chaos and cosmopolitan decay.

Title: The Cathars and Their Esoteric Legacy: A Traditionalist Perspective Tags: #Cathars #Esotericism #Traditionalism #Grail #Ghibelline #Spirituality #Initiation

  1. Cathars as Dualist Heretics: The Cathars were a Christian dualist sect that rejected the materialism and authority of the Catholic Church, emphasizing a radical spiritual purity. Their beliefs were rooted in a dualistic worldview, seeing the material world as evil and the spiritual realm as divine.
  2. Anti-Catholic Stance: The Cathars explicitly denied the supremacy of the Catholic Church and rejected its symbols, such as the cross, which they viewed as an insult to the divine nature of Christ. This anti-Catholic sentiment aligned them with broader anti-papal movements.
  3. Pessimistic Worldview: Catharism was characterized by a pessimistic denial of the material world, which they saw as a creation of an evil anti-God. This escapist spirituality contrasted sharply with the heroic and world-affirming ethos of traditional initiatory paths.
  4. Asceticism and Renunciation: The Cathars practiced extreme asceticism, including self-starvation, as a means of liberating themselves from the material world. This “lunar” spirituality emphasized renunciation and detachment.
  5. Lack of Heroic Spirituality: Despite their spiritual rigor, Catharism lacked the heroic and initiatory character found in traditions like the Grail cycle or Templarism. Their dualism and world-denial placed them outside the framework of a truly traditional spirituality.
  6. Historical Suppression: The Cathars were brutally eradicated during the Albigensian Crusade and the Inquisition, marking the end of their influence as a distinct spiritual movement.

The Grail, the Cathars, and the Love's Lieges

The legend of the Grail is historically linked to troubadour literature, particularly the Love's Lieges. While often categorized within medieval chivalric romance, troubadour literature carried an esoteric and secretive dimension, as noted by Italian scholars like Luigi Valli, Rossetti, and Aroux. This esotericism reflects influences parallel to those shaping the Grail cycle.

The Love's Lieges often exhibited a Ghibelline, anti-Catholic, and heretical character. Aroux highlighted how the “gay science” flourished in Provençal cities and castles that were also centers of heresy, particularly Catharism. Rahn saw Wolfram von Eschenbach's narrative as a transcription of a Provençal tale tied to the Cathars and their stronghold, Montségur. However, a distinction must be made between the Love's Lieges and the Cathars, as the spirit of Catharism diverged significantly from the Templarism of the Grail.

Catharism claimed to possess superior knowledge and a purer spirituality than Catholicism, rejecting the Church's authority and viewing the cross's adoration as an insult to Christ's divine nature. Their rituals, such as the manisola and consolamentum spiritus sancti, aimed to elevate members to the rank of “Perfect Ones.” Yet, their tradition blended primitive Christianity, Manichaeism, and second-rate Buddhism, emphasizing escapism, dualism, world-denial, and extreme asceticism. These traits starkly contrast with a heroic, initiatory spirituality.

While Catharism indirectly influenced the Ghibelline movement due to historical circumstances, its essence lacked true affinity with the imperial myth's soul.

Metaphysical part:

Every teaching remains illusory until it is translated into practice and action. Thus, you will be guided in the initial operations, as previously hinted.

First, take control of a portion of your life, or at least your day, to firmly establish a new quality. Achieve inner detachment from yourself and your surroundings. Maintain a sober, effortless, neutral, and balanced lifestyle, free from excess. Sleep only as necessary and eat sparingly.

Ensure your body is whole, calm, and harmonized. Temper your soul with the power within you, cleansing it of impulsiveness, passions, and restlessness. Stabilize it and unite it with your body.

Other beings do not exist. Do not let their actions, thoughts, or judgments affect you, regardless of their nature.

Guard against anything that might subtly influence you. Watch over external influences and the depths of your consciousness. Observe all things silently and remain undisturbed, halting all judgments firmly.

If passions arise, do not react or become disturbed. Satisfy them deliberately, then discard them.

Continue in this direction until you recognize the frivolity, uselessness, and threat of every thought, allowing your mind to calm and rest silently at your feet.

Through this, you will build an inner strength, akin to a lord whose gaze instills silence, respect, or confusion in those around him. This is our Gold.

When you achieve this with subtle, constant, strong, and gentle art, and when the balanced, neutral state becomes continuous and natural, you will feel reconnected to yourself, experiencing a profound sense of interiority. From this calm and enlightened rest, spiritual contentment will arise.

Observe and retain this sensation. When you fully possess it, connect it with your body so it permeates it like warmth in water, resulting in a single, unified state.

This is the fluidic state, known in our Tradition as the “first extraction of Mercury (or Hermes) from the Mine.”

Hold onto this state with calm firmness. Release it, then evoke it repeatedly. Study it until it becomes a subconscious reality, ready to emerge at your command. Achieving this marks significant progress.

The fluidic body is energized by a vegetarian diet, fasting, and magical aromas. Sexual encounters driven by pleasure weaken it, especially in those with nervous temperaments. Sudden loss of equilibrium or strong emotions can harm both body and psyche. Its virtues must be sharpened through discipline.

Do not destroy feelings but detach from clinging to pleasure, desire, aversion, and anguish. Purify yourself from these bonds. Be open, free from fear and pettiness in your feelings. Observe them as external things, realizing, “Just as I am not the food I taste, I am not the feelings that echo in me: they are not mine, they are not me.”

Only then will feelings reveal a new, objective sense beyond the animal ones, oriented to a subtler aspect of reality. Educate this sense with inner attention, refining it. Maintain calm self-control and lucidity at your center, open to every voice.

This education of the heart, achieved through “persuasion” and a slow, gentle “fire,” will infuse supersensible knowledge into your fluidic body, creating a “distilled water,” consecrated in the sign of your neutrality.

Next, attempt the liberation of the central power and the encounter with the Serpent. This occurs when your “Self” transfers into the fluidic body, detached from animal senses and isolated from the physical world.

Avoid dissolving self-awareness, which lowers the magician's world to that of mediums and visionaries. Maintain the intellectual center's preponderance over peripheral sensibility and subconscious elements.

When the fluidic body detaches, remain steady in a pure, immaterial, extra-cerebral state of mind. If not, the mediumistic state sets in, making the fluidic body a passive instrument of the inferior world.

Actively surpassing the neutral point leads to “Rebirth in the Mind” in the “Magnesium of the Wise.” From the golden nucleus of your perfected mind, an intellectual light will emerge, realizing a new, powerful sense of Self.

Philalethes notes that through our Gold (the Sun), the enlivening virtue hidden beneath the body's husk is reborn when bathed with our water (the fluidic). The fixed becomes volatile to inherit a nobler quality, then fixes the volatile.

With this experience, your “Self” abandons the animal vehicle, assuming a fluidic body as an organ for action. If difficulties arise, evoke the image and will it.

The magician must escape the enslavement of the “soul of the earth,” entering conscious contact with the beyond and directing effects in real life. His spirit, like a flame, rises to the surface of the “waters,” consecrated in “air,” empowered to subject beings dependent on this current, the “Astral Light.”

The task is not easy or without dangers. Persevere, master your doubts, and you will succeed. Dare and be silent.

The strongest force is the will of a man who knows what he wants. Set your goal and never change it. Once started, never quit, for the path of Magic has no “dead corners.” You must either succeed or perish.

Title: The Hermetic Caduceus: A Path to Inner Mastery
Tags: #Hermeticism #Initiation #FluidicBody #SelfMastery #EvolianPractice

  1. Detachment and Neutrality: Begin by detaching from external influences and maintaining a neutral, balanced lifestyle. Avoid excesses in sleep, food, and emotions. This creates the foundation for inner mastery.
  2. Harmonization of Body and Soul: Temper the soul, cleanse it of impulsiveness and passions, and stabilize it. Unify the soul with the body to achieve a state of calm and harmony.
  3. Isolation from External Judgments: Recognize that the actions, thoughts, and judgments of others hold no power over you. Cultivate indifference to external opinions.
  4. Vigilance Over Consciousness: Observe all external and internal phenomena without judgment. Maintain a silent, unperturbed mind, stopping all reactive thoughts with firm control.
  5. Mastery Over Passions: When passions arise, do not suppress them. Instead, deliberately satisfy and then discard them, ensuring they do not disrupt your equilibrium.
  6. Cultivation of Inner Strength: Develop a lord-like presence within yourself, a force that commands respect and silence. This inner strength is the “Gold” of the Hermetic tradition.
  7. Fluidic State and Mercury Extraction: Through disciplined practice, achieve the “fluidic state,” where consciousness and body merge into one. This is the first extraction of Mercury, a key step in Hermetic work.
  8. Education of the Heart: Purify your feelings by detaching from pleasure, desire, and aversion. Observe emotions as external phenomena, cultivating a refined, objective sense of perception.
  9. The Mirror Technique: Use the mirror as a tool to isolate the fluidic body from the physical. Stare into the mirror until the physical senses are neutralized, allowing the astral light to emerge.
  10. Rebirth in the Mind: Transcend the neutral point to achieve the “Rebirth in the Mind.” This is the awakening of the intellectual light, where the Self is liberated from the animal body and assumes a fluidic form, capable of miraculous works.

This path demands unwavering will, discipline, and perseverance. It is not for the faint-hearted, as failure to master these steps risks falling into mediumistic or subconscious states. Success requires absolute commitment to the goal of self-transformation and liberation.

Every teaching remains illusory until it is translated into practice and action. Thus, you will be guided in the initial operations, as previously hinted.

First, take control of a portion of your life, or at least your day, to firmly establish a new quality. Achieve inner detachment from yourself and your surroundings. Maintain a sober, effortless, neutral, and balanced lifestyle, free from excess. Sleep only as necessary and eat sparingly.

Ensure your body is whole, calm, and harmonized. Temper your soul with the power within you, cleansing it of impulsiveness, passions, and restlessness. Stabilize it and unite it with your body.

Other beings do not exist. Do not let their actions, thoughts, or judgments affect you, regardless of their nature.

Guard against anything that might subtly influence you. Watch over external influences and the depths of your consciousness. Observe all things silently and remain undisturbed, halting all judgments firmly.

If passions arise, do not react or become disturbed. Satisfy them deliberately, then discard them.

Continue in this direction until you recognize the frivolity, uselessness, and threat of every thought, allowing your mind to calm and rest silently at your feet.

Through this, you will build an inner strength, akin to a lord whose gaze instills silence, respect, or confusion in those around him. This is our Gold.

When you achieve this with subtle, constant, strong, and gentle art, and when the balanced, neutral state becomes continuous and natural, you will feel reconnected to yourself, experiencing a profound sense of interiority. From this calm and enlightened rest, spiritual contentment will arise.

Observe and retain this sensation. When you fully possess it, connect it with your body so it permeates it like warmth in water, resulting in a single, unified state.

This is the fluidic state, known in our Tradition as the “first extraction of Mercury (or Hermes) from the Mine.”

Hold onto this state with calm firmness. Release it, then evoke it repeatedly. Study it until it becomes a subconscious reality, ready to emerge at your command. Achieving this marks significant progress.

The fluidic body is energized by a vegetarian diet, fasting, and magical aromas. Sexual encounters driven by pleasure weaken it, especially in those with nervous temperaments. Sudden loss of equilibrium or strong emotions can harm both body and psyche. Its virtues must be sharpened through discipline.

Do not destroy feelings but detach from clinging to pleasure, desire, aversion, and anguish. Purify yourself from these bonds. Be open, free from fear and pettiness in your feelings. Observe them as external things, realizing, “Just as I am not the food I taste, I am not the feelings that echo in me: they are not mine, they are not me.”

Only then will feelings reveal a new, objective sense beyond the animal ones, oriented to a subtler aspect of reality. Educate this sense with inner attention, refining it. Maintain calm self-control and lucidity at your center, open to every voice.

This education of the heart, achieved through “persuasion” and a slow, gentle “fire,” will infuse supersensible knowledge into your fluidic body, creating a “distilled water,” consecrated in the sign of your neutrality.

Next, attempt the liberation of the central power and the encounter with the Serpent. This occurs when your “Self” transfers into the fluidic body, detached from animal senses and isolated from the physical world.

Avoid dissolving self-awareness, which lowers the magician's world to that of mediums and visionaries. Maintain the intellectual center's preponderance over peripheral sensibility and subconscious elements.

When the fluidic body detaches, remain steady in a pure, immaterial, extra-cerebral state of mind. If not, the mediumistic state sets in, making the fluidic body a passive instrument of the inferior world.

Actively surpassing the neutral point leads to “Rebirth in the Mind” in the “Magnesium of the Wise.” From the golden nucleus of your perfected mind, an intellectual light will emerge, realizing a new, powerful sense of Self.

Philalethes notes that through our Gold (the Sun), the enlivening virtue hidden beneath the body's husk is reborn when bathed with our water (the fluidic). The fixed becomes volatile to inherit a nobler quality, then fixes the volatile.

With this experience, your “Self” abandons the animal vehicle, assuming a fluidic body as an organ for action. If difficulties arise, evoke the image and will it.

The magician must escape the enslavement of the “soul of the earth,” entering conscious contact with the beyond and directing effects in real life. His spirit, like a flame, rises to the surface of the “waters,” consecrated in “air,” empowered to subject beings dependent on this current, the “Astral Light.”

The task is not easy or without dangers. Persevere, master your doubts, and you will succeed. Dare and be silent.

The strongest force is the will of a man who knows what he wants. Set your goal and never change it. Once started, never quit, for the path of Magic has no “dead corners.” You must either succeed or perish.

Metaphysical part:

Upon the pope's death, the camerlengo verifies his passing, locks the papal apartment, and breaks his ring and seal. Cardinals under 80 gather for the conclave, voting in secrecy until a two-thirds majority elects a new pope, announced with “Habemus Papam” and a blessing.

Evola's Critique of Pope Francis: A Traditionalist Perspective

  1. Evola would critique Pope Francis's emphasis on compassion and social justice as a deviation from the Church's traditional role as a custodian of sacred order and spiritual discipline.
  2. He would view Francis's focus on mercy and inclusion as a dilution of the Church's transcendent mission, aligning it with modern egalitarian ideals.
  3. Evola would argue that the Pope's advocacy for social justice and environmentalism reflects a capitulation to modern materialism.
  4. He would see the push for reform and dialogue as an erosion of the Church's authority, aligning it with the decadence of the modern world.
  5. For Evola, the Church should embody a rigid, hierarchical order that transcends worldly concerns.
  6. He would emphasize the need for the Church to uphold timeless spiritual truths rather than adapt to contemporary issues.
  7. Evola would reject the modern humanitarian focus, seeing it as a loss of the Church's role as a beacon of spiritual authority.
  8. He would criticize the Church's alignment with modern egalitarianism as a betrayal of its traditional hierarchical principles.
  9. Evola would argue that the Church's mission should be to maintain a sacred order that stands above temporal concerns.
  10. Ultimately, he would call for a return to a Church that prioritizes spiritual discipline and transcendent values over modern compromises.

Title: The Swastika and the Spiritual Symbolism of Ancient Traditions Tags: #Evola #Traditionalism #SpiritualSymbolism #Paganism #AncientWisdom

  1. Swastika as a Spiritual Symbol: The swastika transcends its naturalistic interpretations as a symbol of fire or the sun. In ancient traditions, it represented higher spiritual forces, not mere deification of natural elements.
  2. Planetary Symbolism: For ancient pagans, planets were not merely physical entities but manifestations of super-individual, spiritual forces. These forces were seen as “gods,” reflecting a metaphysical reality beyond the material world.
  3. Ethno-Nationalism as a Misinterpretation: Modern ethno-nationalists fail to grasp the spiritual essence of antiquity. Their reductionist view of paganism as tied to the earth (materialism) contrasts sharply with the ancient focus on the spirit (celestial principles).
  4. Critique of Ethno-Centrism: Ethno-centrism is a deviation from true traditionalism. It reduces the transcendent to the material, ignoring the spiritual hierarchy that ancient cultures upheld.

The swastika has often been interpreted as a symbol of fire and the sun. However, it is essential to move beyond a “naturalistic” reduction of these concepts. Ancient peoples did not superstitiously deify natural forces but used them as symbols to express higher meanings. Similarly, for ancient pagan traditions, the planets were not merely physical entities but represented spiritual and super-individual forces, with the physical planets serving as symbolic manifestations of these higher principles.

Ethno-nationalists fundamentally misunderstand the spirit of antiquity and paganism. Their interpretation is a simplistic, materialistic conception rooted in their limited perspective, focusing on the earth, whereas antiquity operated on a spiritual level, connected to the heavens. Ethno-centrism is an aberration and a distortion of true tradition.

Metaphysical part:

The Swastika as a Polar Symbol

The following reflections on the deeper significance of the swastika might seem unusual if Herman Wirth's research on the primordial Nordic races were not already known in Germany. However, what deserves greater emphasis is that the ideas expressed in this regard are not merely the conjectures of a modern scholar. Rather, they can be linked to a doctrine that, despite its scattered traces, is found with the marks of universality and unanimity across all great traditions of the past—from the Far Eastern, Tibetan, Indo-Aryan, and Irano-Aryan to the Hellenic, Egyptian, Gaelic, Germanic, and Aztec. For us, it is clear that these traditions, if understood directly beyond “positive” limitations, can convey more than many dubious reconstructions based on philological and paleographic grounds.

The first insight from this line of thought is the integration of the concept of the Aryan, Indo-Germanic, or Nordic race. What was once considered a primordial tribe now reveals itself as a relatively recent branch of a much older and purer Arctic race, more accurately described by the ancient term “Hyperborean.” This integration resolves many one-sided views and difficulties that have plagued previous interpretations of the Aryan thesis. The Aryan idea thus rises to a universal principle, establishing a continuity and common origin of cultural elements that were once thought separate but are found scattered across the East and West, North and South. In this light, the swastika symbol takes on new meaning. The difficulties faced by Ernst Kraus or Ludwig Müller, who argued that the swastika was exclusive to Indo-Germanic tribes, are diminished when considering the broader Hyperborean origin. The swastika's presence in regions like California, Central America, the Far East, Mesopotamia, and North Africa—areas not traditionally associated with Indo-Germanic peoples—can be explained through the diffusion of the Nordic Ur-race.

The second key aspect is the solar character of the primordial Nordic culture. This is evident from the consistent testimonies of ancient traditions regarding the Arctic homeland. The Hyperborean land of the Iranian Aryans, airyanem waêjô, is allegorically described in the Avesta as the home of solar “glory” and Yima, the “Radiant, Glorious One, who among men is like the sun.” Similarly, the Indo-Aryans' Çweta-dwîpa or uttara-kuru, the sacred land of the far North, is depicted as the “White Island” or “Island of Radiance,” the abode of Narâyâna, “in whom a great fire burns, radiating in all directions.” The Hellenic Hyperboreans are associated with the radiant Apollo, while Thule, merging with it, is said to derive its name from the sun. The Aztec Tullan or Tlallocan corresponds etymologically to Thule and is identified with the “House of the Sun.” In the Edda, Gimle or Gladsheim, the primordial home of Asgard, is described as eternal, golden, and radiant like the sun. Similar descriptions apply to the mysterious northern lands in Far Eastern traditions and the mystical Chambhala of pre-Buddhist Tibetan Bön tradition.

This symbolic testimony points to two elements: the idea of a solar cult and the concept of solar rulership. Regarding the first, Wirth's reconstruction suggests that the Nordic-Atlantic Ur-race shared a common solar religion. While this assumption is plausible, it requires further justification. What is clear is the intimate relationship between the sun and divine fire, evident in Indo-European traditions. The cult of fire was linked to both the uranic and solar components of patrician rites in ancient traditions (Bachofen) and to the concept of solar and divine kingship. The Iranian-Aryan hvarenô, the “glory” that makes kings, is a solar fire, akin to the Vedic agni-rohita and the Egyptian ânshûs, the life-force of kingship. This provides the first and simplest validation of the swastika as a Nordic symbol. The swastika, in its connection to the ancient Swastika, has often been interpreted as a symbol of fire and the sun. However, it is crucial to move beyond a “naturalistic” reduction of these concepts. Ancient peoples did not superstitiously deify natural forces but used them as symbols to express higher meanings. The swastika, as a fire symbol, is not merely a primitive tool for igniting flames but a spiritual and royal symbol, representing the primordial light and fire that ignited the ruling castes in their solar function over subordinate forces and races.

The swastika's significance extends beyond its solar and fiery aspects to its polar symbolism. The “solar” function embodied by the leaders of great traditional cultures was often compared to that of a “pole.” The leader represented the immovable point around which the ordered movement of forces revolved hierarchically. This is reflected in the Far Eastern concept of “immutability at the center” and Confucius's statement: “He who rules by virtue is like the pole star, which remains fixed while all other stars revolve around it.” The Aristotelian concept of the “unmoved mover” and the Sanskrit term cakravartî (“he who turns the wheel”) express the same idea. The polar symbol represents an irresistible force in its calm superiority, a power that legitimizes itself through its mere presence, embodying the stability of the “world of being” or the transcendent realm. This is also the meaning of the solar symbol embodied by Apollo, not as the rising and setting sun but as the steady, ruling light that surrounds the Olympians and the pure spiritual substances free from the world of passion and becoming.

The swastika, as one of the oldest symbols of this spirituality and its polar function, represents not merely movement but a circular motion around an immutable center or axis. It is not just a solar symbol (the wheel of solar Vishnu) but a symbol of the solar principle reduced to a central, ruling element—an immutable “Olympian” principle. In this sense, the swastika is a polar symbol, revealing meanings in the earliest prehistory that would later be expressed in the glorious cycles of Aryan mythologies and kingships derived from the primordial Nordic culture.

The polar symbol also applies to certain cultures or cultural centers that embodied a corresponding function in the totality of history. The Chinese Empire was called the “Middle Kingdom”; Meru, the symbolic Indo-Aryan Olympus, was considered the “pole” of the earth; the symbolism of the Omphalos, associated with Delphi, the traditional center of Dorian-Olympian Greece, reflects the same meaning; and Asgard, the mystical homeland of Nordic royal lineages, coincides with Midgard, the “land of the center.” Even Cuzco, the center of the Inca Sun Empire, seems to express the idea of an earthly “center.” Additionally, the Sanskrit Tulâ, associated with the Hellenic and American names for the Hyperborean homeland, means “balance,” and the zodiac sign Libra was initially identified with the Great Bear, a significant figure in Hyperborean cults, closely tied to polar symbolism.

Wirth's revival of the idea that the Arctic region was the primordial homeland of the white race, the progenitor of the Indo-Germanic and Aryan races, suggests a convergence of symbol and reality, metaphysics and physics, under the sign of the “pole.” The prehistoric polar cycle of the Nordic Ur-race could be seen as the original expression of “Olympian” spirituality and the “polar” function, which manifested wherever it led to new cultures and traditions through adaptation or diffusion. The symbol of the “center” and the “pole” can thus be a traditional and supra-historical emblem, originally corresponding to a complete alignment of reality and symbol, pointing to a homeland that coincides with the Earth's geographic pole and embodies the value and function of a spiritual primordial “pole.”

Wirth, however, errs in extending a cult to the entire Nordic tradition that actually pertains to a corrupted and “southernized” form of it. He emphasizes the winter solstice, interpreting the eternal cycle of the sun's death and resurrection as the mystery of the primordial Nordic faith. This view, which aligns the sun with a nature subject to birth and death, is more reflective of the chthonic cycle of the southern, pre-Aryan, and even Semitic mother-cult, associated with the great Asiatic fertility goddesses. Alfred Rosenberg has pointed out this confusion in Wirth's work, likely due to the mingling of testimonies from the earliest Nordic epochs with those of later, mixed cultures. While Wirth correctly distinguishes between a Nordic-Arctic (Hyperborean) race and a Nordic-Atlantic one, he fails to make a corresponding distinction in symbols and motifs, blending the two. According to the Avesta, Môuru, the land and culture of the “mother,” appears only as the third “creation,” already distant from the Nordic airyanem waêjô.

The theme of the sun god's death and resurrection in the mother, reflecting an eternal cycle of becoming, is fundamentally anti-Olympian and alien to the higher Nordic-Aryan spirituality. It is a theme attributable to southern influences, representing Dionysus against Apollo, Loki against the Aesir, and the chaotic desire for pantheistic ecstasy opposed to the calm self-awareness and natural supernaturalism of the “divine” races. Wirth's interpretation thus reflects a syncretic symbolism, far removed from the pure primordial Aryan cult and more applicable to the subsequent “Atlantic” culture, which shows traces of gynocratic themes.

In contrast, the polar cross, the swastika, symbolizes the unadulterated primordial worldview and can be regarded as a true Nordic symbol in the higher sense. Its fundamental theme is not change but a centralizing effect, to which change remains subordinate. On this basis, the solar and fiery symbols contained in the swastika take on a different meaning, directly connected to the distinctly uranic character of Aryan and Aryan-Hyperborean deities and cults, the patrician system of strict father-right, and all that signifies masculinity, true rulership, order, and the triumph of cosmos over chaos.

In this context, the swastika can lead us to a content of Nordic thought that is “classical” and “Doric” in the higher sense, characterized by centrality, inner “Olympian” superiority, and clarity within every “fire” and release of forces. According to an ancient tradition, those destined to rule must have the vision of a heavenly wheel: like a wheel, they act, turning and conquering. At the same time, the wheel embodies rta, the order, the spiritual Aryan law, depicted as a divine chariot in motion. The combination of these two concepts gives the fundamental idea of the moving swastika: a whirling, victorious wheel that generates fire and light, yet with a firm stillness, an immutable constancy at its center.

As the primordial Nordic homeland faded into the distant past, its memory transitioned from history to supra-history, becoming a receding reality accessible not through external means but only through spiritual action. Pindar states that the path to the Hyperboreans cannot be found by sea or land but is revealed only to heroes like Heracles, who remain faithful to the Olympian principle. Li-tse reports that the mysterious land of the far North can be reached “neither by ship nor by chariot, but only by the flight of the spirit.” Similarly, Chambhala, the Hyperborean homeland in Tibetan tradition, is said to reside “in my spirit.”

Perhaps no symbol better points to this inner path than the swastika, guiding the way for a resurrection of Germany's deepest forces from the summit of Nordic tradition. Indeed, the Indo-Aryan equivalent of the swastika, the Swastika, carries a favorable omen. It can be interpreted as a monogram composed of the letters forming the auspicious formula su-asti, equivalent to the Latin bene est or quod bonum faustumque sit—”What is good and fortunate, let it be!” No better symbol could be found to express the certainty of rebirth and the will to assert the legacy of the great Hyperborean ruling race against the dark forces threatening to overwhelm it.

Title: The Monolithic West and the Universal Aryan Spirit Tags: #Evola #Traditionalism #AryanCivilization #HyperboreanRoots #SpiritualUniversalism

  1. Monolithic Western Culture: The monolithic kernel design in traditional Unix systems mirrors the West's inward-focused, rigid structures, contrasting with the fluid, universal spirit of Aryan civilization.
  2. Hyperborean Origins: The Aryan spirit, rooted in Hyperborean traditions, embodies a universal, expansive force that transcends tribal and ethnic boundaries.
  3. Civilizational Radiation: True civilizations, like Rome, radiate universality, embracing and integrating diverse cultures rather than isolating themselves.
  4. Western Obsession with Closure: The West's current obsession with self-containment and exclusivity is antithetical to the Aryan ethos of openness and universalism.
  5. Multi-Polar World: The world is inherently multi-polar, reflecting the diverse expressions of the Hyperborean legacy, which has manifested in various forms across civilizations.
  6. Tribal Mentality: The tribal, ethnocentric mindset prevalent today is a degeneration of the universal Aryan spirit, which seeks to unify rather than divide.
  7. Spiritual Hierarchy: The Aryan tradition emphasizes a spiritual hierarchy that transcends material and ethnic distinctions, fostering a universal order.
  8. Decline of the West: The West's decline is marked by its abandonment of universal principles in favor of narrow, self-referential ideologies.
  9. Revival of the Aryan Spirit: A return to the Aryan spirit requires a rejection of monolithic, closed systems in favor of a universal, integrative approach.
  10. Evolian Perspective: Julius Evola's teachings highlight the need to reconnect with the Hyperborean-Aryan tradition, which offers a path beyond the West's current spiritual and cultural stagnation.

This response distills the Evolian critique of Western modernity and its departure from the universal Aryan spirit, emphasizing the need for a return to traditional, hierarchical, and universal principles.

As of October 2023, HarmonyOS NEXT signifies the next stage in the evolution of Huawei's HarmonyOS, with a strong emphasis on independence from the Linux kernel and a transition to a fully self-developed microkernel architecture. This represents a significant departure from earlier versions of HarmonyOS, which utilized a multi-kernel approach (combining LiteOS and Linux kernels). Here's an overview of the HarmonyOS NEXT kernel:

Key Features of HarmonyOS NEXT Kernel

  1. Microkernel Design:
    • HarmonyOS NEXT is built on a microkernel architecture, a notable shift from the Linux-based kernel used in previous versions.
    • The microkernel is designed to be lightweight, secure, and modular, with only essential functions (such as memory management and process scheduling) operating in kernel space.
    • Additional services, like device drivers and file systems, operate in user space, enhancing security and stability by isolating critical components.
  2. Enhanced Security:
    • The microkernel design inherently improves security by minimizing the attack surface of the kernel.
    • HarmonyOS NEXT incorporates advanced security features, including formal verification (mathematically proving the correctness of the kernel code) to ensure resilience against vulnerabilities.
  3. Real-Time Performance:
    • The microkernel is optimized for real-time performance, making HarmonyOS NEXT suitable for applications requiring low latency, such as IoT devices, automotive systems, and industrial automation.
  4. Distributed Architecture:
    • HarmonyOS NEXT continues to support Huawei's distributed technology, enabling seamless collaboration between devices (e.g., smartphones, tablets, smart home devices, and cars).
    • The kernel efficiently manages resources across multiple devices, fostering a unified ecosystem.
  5. Independence from Linux:
    • HarmonyOS NEXT eliminates reliance on the Linux kernel, which was used in earlier versions for smartphones and tablets.
    • This shift grants Huawei full control over the operating system, avoiding potential restrictions tied to open-source licensing (e.g., GPL) and geopolitical challenges.
  6. Cross-Platform Compatibility:
    • HarmonyOS NEXT is designed to operate across a wide range of devices, from small IoT sensors to powerful smartphones and PCs, thanks to its scalable microkernel architecture.

Why the Shift to a Microkernel?

Huawei's decision to develop its own microkernel for HarmonyOS NEXT is driven by several factors: 1. Autonomy: Reducing dependence on external technologies (like the Linux kernel) ensures greater control over the operating system's development and future. 2. Security: A microkernel architecture is inherently more secure due to its minimalistic design and isolation of critical components. 3. Performance: The microkernel is optimized for real-time and low-latency applications, making it ideal for IoT and edge computing. 4. Ecosystem Integration: The microkernel aligns with Huawei's vision of a unified, distributed ecosystem across all devices.

Monolithic vs. Microkernel: A Cultural Reflection

The dominance of monolithic kernels in traditional Unix systems reflects a broader cultural tendency in the West toward centralized, unified structures. This contrasts with the microkernel approach, which emphasizes modularity, decentralization, and adaptability—qualities that align more closely with a multipolar worldview.

Historically, monolithic systems have been favored for their simplicity and performance, much like how centralized civilizations have often sought to consolidate power and resources. However, the rise of microkernel architectures, as seen in HarmonyOS NEXT, signals a shift toward systems that prioritize flexibility, security, and distributed functionality—values that resonate with a more interconnected and diverse global landscape.

This evolution mirrors the transition from a unipolar world dominated by a single cultural or civilizational model to a multipolar world where multiple traditions and systems coexist and interact. Just as HarmonyOS NEXT seeks to break free from the constraints of the Linux kernel, societies and civilizations are increasingly recognizing the need to move beyond monolithic structures and embrace a more pluralistic and inclusive approach.

In this context, the microkernel can be seen as a metaphor for a world that values diversity, adaptability, and collaboration—a world that is, by definition, multipolar. This stands in stark contrast to the monolithic mindset that has long characterized Western cultural and technological paradigms, which often prioritize uniformity and centralization over inclusivity and decentralization.

Metaphysical part:

The Swastika as a Polar Symbol

The following reflections on the deeper significance of the swastika might seem unusual if Herman Wirth's research on the primordial Nordic races were not already known in Germany. However, what deserves greater emphasis is that the ideas expressed in this regard are not merely the conjectures of a modern scholar. Rather, they can be linked to a doctrine that, despite its scattered traces, is found with the marks of universality and unanimity across all great traditions of the past—from the Far Eastern, Tibetan, Indo-Aryan, and Irano-Aryan to the Hellenic, Egyptian, Gaelic, Germanic, and Aztec. For us, it is clear that these traditions, if understood directly beyond “positive” limitations, can convey more than many dubious reconstructions based on philological and paleographic grounds.

The first insight from this line of thought is the integration of the concept of the Aryan, Indo-Germanic, or Nordic race. What was once considered a primordial tribe now reveals itself as a relatively recent branch of a much older and purer Arctic race, more accurately described by the ancient term “Hyperborean.” This integration resolves many one-sided views and difficulties that have plagued previous interpretations of the Aryan thesis. The Aryan idea thus rises to a universal principle, establishing a continuity and common origin of cultural elements that were once thought separate but are found scattered across the East and West, North and South. In this light, the swastika symbol takes on new meaning. The difficulties faced by Ernst Kraus or Ludwig Müller, who argued that the swastika was exclusive to Indo-Germanic tribes, are diminished when considering the broader Hyperborean origin. The swastika's presence in regions like California, Central America, the Far East, Mesopotamia, and North Africa—areas not traditionally associated with Indo-Germanic peoples—can be explained through the diffusion of the Nordic Ur-race.

The second key aspect is the solar character of the primordial Nordic culture. This is evident from the consistent testimonies of ancient traditions regarding the Arctic homeland. The Hyperborean land of the Iranian Aryans, airyanem waêjô, is allegorically described in the Avesta as the home of solar “glory” and Yima, the “Radiant, Glorious One, who among men is like the sun.” Similarly, the Indo-Aryans' Çweta-dwîpa or uttara-kuru, the sacred land of the far North, is depicted as the “White Island” or “Island of Radiance,” the abode of Narâyâna, “in whom a great fire burns, radiating in all directions.” The Hellenic Hyperboreans are associated with the radiant Apollo, while Thule, merging with it, is said to derive its name from the sun. The Aztec Tullan or Tlallocan corresponds etymologically to Thule and is identified with the “House of the Sun.” In the Edda, Gimle or Gladsheim, the primordial home of Asgard, is described as eternal, golden, and radiant like the sun. Similar descriptions apply to the mysterious northern lands in Far Eastern traditions and the mystical Chambhala of pre-Buddhist Tibetan Bön tradition.

This symbolic testimony points to two elements: the idea of a solar cult and the concept of solar rulership. Regarding the first, Wirth's reconstruction suggests that the Nordic-Atlantic Ur-race shared a common solar religion. While this assumption is plausible, it requires further justification. What is clear is the intimate relationship between the sun and divine fire, evident in Indo-European traditions. The cult of fire was linked to both the uranic and solar components of patrician rites in ancient traditions (Bachofen) and to the concept of solar and divine kingship. The Iranian-Aryan hvarenô, the “glory” that makes kings, is a solar fire, akin to the Vedic agni-rohita and the Egyptian ânshûs, the life-force of kingship. This provides the first and simplest validation of the swastika as a Nordic symbol. The swastika, in its connection to the ancient Swastika, has often been interpreted as a symbol of fire and the sun. However, it is crucial to move beyond a “naturalistic” reduction of these concepts. Ancient peoples did not superstitiously deify natural forces but used them as symbols to express higher meanings. The swastika, as a fire symbol, is not merely a primitive tool for igniting flames but a spiritual and royal symbol, representing the primordial light and fire that ignited the ruling castes in their solar function over subordinate forces and races.

The swastika's significance extends beyond its solar and fiery aspects to its polar symbolism. The “solar” function embodied by the leaders of great traditional cultures was often compared to that of a “pole.” The leader represented the immovable point around which the ordered movement of forces revolved hierarchically. This is reflected in the Far Eastern concept of “immutability at the center” and Confucius's statement: “He who rules by virtue is like the pole star, which remains fixed while all other stars revolve around it.” The Aristotelian concept of the “unmoved mover” and the Sanskrit term cakravartî (“he who turns the wheel”) express the same idea. The polar symbol represents an irresistible force in its calm superiority, a power that legitimizes itself through its mere presence, embodying the stability of the “world of being” or the transcendent realm. This is also the meaning of the solar symbol embodied by Apollo, not as the rising and setting sun but as the steady, ruling light that surrounds the Olympians and the pure spiritual substances free from the world of passion and becoming.

The swastika, as one of the oldest symbols of this spirituality and its polar function, represents not merely movement but a circular motion around an immutable center or axis. It is not just a solar symbol (the wheel of solar Vishnu) but a symbol of the solar principle reduced to a central, ruling element—an immutable “Olympian” principle. In this sense, the swastika is a polar symbol, revealing meanings in the earliest prehistory that would later be expressed in the glorious cycles of Aryan mythologies and kingships derived from the primordial Nordic culture.

The polar symbol also applies to certain cultures or cultural centers that embodied a corresponding function in the totality of history. The Chinese Empire was called the “Middle Kingdom”; Meru, the symbolic Indo-Aryan Olympus, was considered the “pole” of the earth; the symbolism of the Omphalos, associated with Delphi, the traditional center of Dorian-Olympian Greece, reflects the same meaning; and Asgard, the mystical homeland of Nordic royal lineages, coincides with Midgard, the “land of the center.” Even Cuzco, the center of the Inca Sun Empire, seems to express the idea of an earthly “center.” Additionally, the Sanskrit Tulâ, associated with the Hellenic and American names for the Hyperborean homeland, means “balance,” and the zodiac sign Libra was initially identified with the Great Bear, a significant figure in Hyperborean cults, closely tied to polar symbolism.

Wirth's revival of the idea that the Arctic region was the primordial homeland of the white race, the progenitor of the Indo-Germanic and Aryan races, suggests a convergence of symbol and reality, metaphysics and physics, under the sign of the “pole.” The prehistoric polar cycle of the Nordic Ur-race could be seen as the original expression of “Olympian” spirituality and the “polar” function, which manifested wherever it led to new cultures and traditions through adaptation or diffusion. The symbol of the “center” and the “pole” can thus be a traditional and supra-historical emblem, originally corresponding to a complete alignment of reality and symbol, pointing to a homeland that coincides with the Earth's geographic pole and embodies the value and function of a spiritual primordial “pole.”

Wirth, however, errs in extending a cult to the entire Nordic tradition that actually pertains to a corrupted and “southernized” form of it. He emphasizes the winter solstice, interpreting the eternal cycle of the sun's death and resurrection as the mystery of the primordial Nordic faith. This view, which aligns the sun with a nature subject to birth and death, is more reflective of the chthonic cycle of the southern, pre-Aryan, and even Semitic mother-cult, associated with the great Asiatic fertility goddesses. Alfred Rosenberg has pointed out this confusion in Wirth's work, likely due to the mingling of testimonies from the earliest Nordic epochs with those of later, mixed cultures. While Wirth correctly distinguishes between a Nordic-Arctic (Hyperborean) race and a Nordic-Atlantic one, he fails to make a corresponding distinction in symbols and motifs, blending the two. According to the Avesta, Môuru, the land and culture of the “mother,” appears only as the third “creation,” already distant from the Nordic airyanem waêjô.

The theme of the sun god's death and resurrection in the mother, reflecting an eternal cycle of becoming, is fundamentally anti-Olympian and alien to the higher Nordic-Aryan spirituality. It is a theme attributable to southern influences, representing Dionysus against Apollo, Loki against the Aesir, and the chaotic desire for pantheistic ecstasy opposed to the calm self-awareness and natural supernaturalism of the “divine” races. Wirth's interpretation thus reflects a syncretic symbolism, far removed from the pure primordial Aryan cult and more applicable to the subsequent “Atlantic” culture, which shows traces of gynocratic themes.

In contrast, the polar cross, the swastika, symbolizes the unadulterated primordial worldview and can be regarded as a true Nordic symbol in the higher sense. Its fundamental theme is not change but a centralizing effect, to which change remains subordinate. On this basis, the solar and fiery symbols contained in the swastika take on a different meaning, directly connected to the distinctly uranic character of Aryan and Aryan-Hyperborean deities and cults, the patrician system of strict father-right, and all that signifies masculinity, true rulership, order, and the triumph of cosmos over chaos.

In this context, the swastika can lead us to a content of Nordic thought that is “classical” and “Doric” in the higher sense, characterized by centrality, inner “Olympian” superiority, and clarity within every “fire” and release of forces. According to an ancient tradition, those destined to rule must have the vision of a heavenly wheel: like a wheel, they act, turning and conquering. At the same time, the wheel embodies rta, the order, the spiritual Aryan law, depicted as a divine chariot in motion. The combination of these two concepts gives the fundamental idea of the moving swastika: a whirling, victorious wheel that generates fire and light, yet with a firm stillness, an immutable constancy at its center.

As the primordial Nordic homeland faded into the distant past, its memory transitioned from history to supra-history, becoming a receding reality accessible not through external means but only through spiritual action. Pindar states that the path to the Hyperboreans cannot be found by sea or land but is revealed only to heroes like Heracles, who remain faithful to the Olympian principle. Li-tse reports that the mysterious land of the far North can be reached “neither by ship nor by chariot, but only by the flight of the spirit.” Similarly, Chambhala, the Hyperborean homeland in Tibetan tradition, is said to reside “in my spirit.”

Perhaps no symbol better points to this inner path than the swastika, guiding the way for a resurrection of Germany's deepest forces from the summit of Nordic tradition. Indeed, the Indo-Aryan equivalent of the swastika, the Swastika, carries a favorable omen. It can be interpreted as a monogram composed of the letters forming the auspicious formula su-asti, equivalent to the Latin bene est or quod bonum faustumque sit—”What is good and fortunate, let it be!” No better symbol could be found to express the certainty of rebirth and the will to assert the legacy of the great Hyperborean ruling race against the dark forces threatening to overwhelm it.

Agrarian Nomadic Peoples: These groups often reflect a lunar, matriarchal, and telluric (earth-bound) spirituality, contrasting with the solar, warrior-based ethos of traditional patriarchal civilizations.

Example of Germanic peoples: 1. Sun (Proto-Germanic sōwelō/sōwulō)
– Runic Evidence: In Old Norse and Old English, the sun ᛊ / ᛋ is grammatically feminine.
– Typically Feminine in early Germanic languages (e.g., Old English sunne, Old Norse sól). – Mythological Association: “Sun Mother” – The sun is often considered feminine, associated with warmth, life, and nurturing energy. Some myths describe the sun as a motherly or goddess-like figure.

  1. Moon (Proto-Germanic mēnô)
  2. Runic Evidence: The word is masculine ᛗ in Old Norse and Old English.
  3. Typically Masculine in early Germanic languages (e.g., Old English mōna, Old Norse máni).
  4. Mythological Association: “Moon Father” – The moon is typically viewed as masculine, linked to night, cycles, and sometimes war or hunting. The moon is personified as a male deity or warrior.

The sun (die Sonne) is grammatically feminine, while the moon (der Mond) is masculine—an inversion of the traditional solar-masculine and lunar-feminine symbolism characteristic of Solar-Uranian (Indo-Aryan) Civilizations. This linguistic structure reflects the dominance of Demetrian, gynocratic, and telluric forces within these cultures, marking a clear deviation from the sacred solar principle. Similarly, in the semitic language Hebrew, the sun (ha-shemesh) is feminine, and the moon (ha-yareach) is masculine.

Socialism and capitalism, as degenerate expressions of lunar spirituality, did not arise from Jewish influence but from Agrarian Nomadic Peoples. Chthonic-Demetrian peoples meaning Agrarian Nomadic Peoples are marked by democratic, egalitarian, and tribal structures, bound to the immanent and the terrestrial. In contrast, Solar-Uranian (Indo-Aryan) civilizations embody hierarchical order, verticality, and imperial grandeur, oriented toward the transcendent. Metaphysically, chthonic agrarian systems inevitably degenerate into authoritarianism and collapse, enslaved by materialistic forces and earthly determinism.

On the use of the term “Solar-Uranian (Indo-Aryan) Civilizations”:

Julius Evola's use of the term “Solar-Uranian (Indo-Aryan) Civilizations” instead of simply “higher Indo-European traditions”. Here’s why he preferred this formulation:

  1. Solar-Uranian Symbolism: Hyperborean and Olympian Archetypes

    • Solar represents the Apollonian principle—order, hierarchy, clarity, and spiritual transcendence, linked to the Hyperborean myth of a primordial polar civilization.
    • Uranian refers to Uranus (Ouranos), the Greek sky god, symbolizing the transcendent, celestial, and masculine principle—detached from earthly chaos.
    • Together, they signify a warrior-priest ethos—active spiritual mastery, as opposed to passive “lunar” (telluric, chthonic, or matriarchal) civilizations.
  2. Indo-Aryan vs. Generic “Indo-European”

    • Evola distinguished between Aryan (as a spiritual elite) and merely Indo-European (a broader racial-linguistic category).
    • “Aryan” in his usage denoted a sacred regal tradition—not just ethnicity but a metaphysical quality of divine kingship (the kshatriya ideal).
    • He saw later Indo-European cultures as decadent compared to the primordial Hyperborean-Aryan source.
  3. Rejection of Modern Racial Theories

    • Evola criticized biological racism (e.g., Nazi Nordicism) in favor of a spiritual racism—where “Aryan” was a state of being (linked to the svabhāva of Hindu caste doctrine).
    • “Solar-Uranian” thus denotes an initiatic quality, not just bloodline. This aligns with his elitist, anti-egalitarian view of history.
  4. Esoteric and Anti-Historical Perspective

    • Unlike mainstream scholars who treat Indo-European traditions as historical developments, Evola saw them as fragments of a lost Golden Age (Satya Yuga).

Metaphysical part:

The Swastika as a Polar Symbol

The deeper significance of the swastika transcends mere conjectures of modern scholars, connecting instead with a universal tradition found across Indo-Aryan, Hellenic, Egyptian, Celtic, Germanic, and even Aztec cultures. This symbol reflects not just a racial or solar motif but a metaphysical principle—rooted in the Hyperborean origins of the Aryan race.

The swastika is fundamentally a polar symbol, representing the immutable center around which cosmic order revolves. It embodies the “Olympian” spirit—unchanging, sovereign, and superior—contrasting the chaotic forces of becoming. Ancient traditions consistently associate the North with solar kingship, divine fire, and transcendent rulership. The Hyperborean Apollo, the Vedic hvarenô, and the Avestan airyanem waêjô all reflect this solar-polar archetype.

Unlike naturalistic interpretations, the swastika signifies not mere solar rotation but an axis of spiritual power—the cakravartî (world ruler) who governs from an unshakable center. This symbolism extends to sacred geographies: Delphi as the omphalos, Asgard as Midgard, and China as the “Middle Kingdom.” The swastika thus marks the intersection of metaphysical centrality and historical dominion.

Herman Wirth’s error was conflating the pure Nordic-Arctic tradition with later, decadent “Atlantic” influences, introducing chthonic and maternal elements alien to the original Aryan spirit. True Nordic symbolism rejects cyclical dissolution (Dionysian passion, Loki’s chaos) in favor of Apollonian stability—fire not as a natural phenomenon but as a hieratic force.

The swastika, as svastika, encodes an affirmation: su-asti—”it is well.” It heralds the resurgence of the primordial Aryan will against the encroaching darkness. For those destined to rule, it is the sign of the celestial wheel: dynamic yet centered, victorious yet unchanging.

The Hyperborean homeland may be lost to history, but its truth persists—accessible only through the heroic act of spirit. As Pindar and Li-tse taught, the path to the North is not traversed by ship or chariot but by the flight of the transcendent mind. The swastika, in its highest sense, points to this inner awakening—the return to the Olympian pole.

Proto-Indo-European (PIE)

├─ Anatolian (extinct)
├─ Tocharian (extinct)
├─ Italic → Romance (French, Spanish, Italian)
├─ Celtic (Irish, Welsh)
├─ Germanic (English, German, Dutch, Swedish)
├─ Balto-Slavic (Russian, Polish, Lithuanian)
├─ Hellenic (Greek)
├─ Indo-Iranian
│ ├─ Iranian (Persian, Pashto)
│ └─ Indo-Aryan (Hindi, Bengali, Punjabi)
├─ Armenian
└─ Albanian

Proto-Indo-European (PIE)

├─ Anatolian (extinct). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).

├─ Tocharian (extinct). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).

├─ Italic → Romance. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). Romance (All countries where Romance languages are spoken): Italy: Italian, France: French, Spain: Spanish, Portugal: Portuguese, Romania: Romanian, Moldova: Romanian, Switzerland: French & Romansh, Belgium: Walloon French, Andorra: Catalan, Monaco: French, San Marino: Italian, Vatican City: Latin & Italian. Minor/Regional Romance Languages:
Italo-Dalmatian Dialects: Corsica (France): Corsican. Southern Romance Dialects: Sardinia (Italy): Sardinian Ibero-Romance Dialects: Asturias (Spain): Asturian, Galicia (Spain): Galician. Gallo-Romance Dialects: Cauchois (Normandy Mainland), Jèrriais (Jersey Norman), Lyonnais, Savoyard (Savoie). Occitano-Romance Dialects: Occitan (Southern France).

├─ Celtic (Irish, Welsh) Brittany (France): Breton, Wales: Welsh, Cornwall (UK): Cornish. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).
Ireland: Irish Gaelic. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). Isle of Man: Manx, Scotland: Scottish Gaelic. → Total inversion: (Sun: feminine, Moon: feminine).

├─ Germanic (English, German, Dutch, Swedish). → With the exception of the Scots, all Germanic languages reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). Germanic (All countries where Germanic languages are spoken): Germany, Austria, Switzerland: German/Swiss German, Netherlands: Dutch, Belgium: Dutch (Flemish) & German, Luxembourg: Luxembourgish, Denmark: Danish, Sweden: Swedish, Norway: Norwegian, Iceland: Icelandic, Faroe Islands: Faroese, United Kingdom: English, Ireland: English. Extinct Germanic Languages: Burgundian, Gothic, Vandalic. Minor/Historic Germanic Languages:
Alemannic Dialects: Alsatian (Germanic-influenced, North-East France). Anglo-Frisian Dialects: Frisian (Netherlands/Germany). Dutch Dialects: Afrikaans (South Africa/Namibia). Yiddish Dialects: Yiddish (historically spoken in Central/Eastern Europe).

├─ Balto-Slavic Balto-Slavic languages that do not invert the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine): Bulgaria: Bulgarian, North Macedonia: Macedonian, Russia: Russian, Slovenia: Slovenian. Balto-Slavic languages that reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine): Belarus: Belarusian, Bosnia: Bosnian, Croatia: Croatian, Czech Republic: Czech, Latvia: Latvian, Lithuania: Lithuanian, Montenegro: Montenegrin, Poland: Polish & Kashubian, Serbia: Serbian, Slovakia: Slovak, Ukraine: Ukrainian. Minor Slavic Languages: Sorbian (Germany): Upper Sorbian. Extinct Baltic Language: Old Prussian.

├─ Hellenic (Greek). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). Cyprus: Cypriot Greek, Greece: Greek.

├─ Indo-Iranian
│ ├─ Iranian Afghanistan: Hazaragi & Pashto, Tajikistan: Tajik. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). Afghanistan: Dari, Turkey: Kurdish, Iran: Persian. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine).

│ └─ Indo-Aryan. → Dual Masculine Polarity (Sun: masculine, Moon: masculine). Bangladesh & India: Bengali, India & Nepal: Bhojpuri, India: Hindi, India & Nepal: Maithili, Nepal: Nepali, Sanskrit, Nepal: Tharu

├─ Armenian. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). Armenia: Armenian.

└─ Albanian. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). Albania: Albanian, Kosovo: Albanian, North Macedonia: Albanian minority.


Uralic. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Finno-Ugric │ ├── Finno-Permic │ │ ├── Finno-Samic (Finno-Saamic) │ │ │ ├── Samic (Saami) [Multiple living languages] │ │ │ └── Finnic (Baltic-Finnic) [Estonian, Finnish, etc.] │ │ └── Permic [Komi, Udmurt] │ └── Ugric │ ├── Hungarian (Magyar) │ └── Ob-Ugric │ ├── Khanty (Ostyak) │ └── Mansi (Vogul) └── Samoyedic (Living) ├── Northern Samoyedic │ ├── Nenets │ └── Enets └── Southern Samoyedic └── Selkup


Kartvelian (South Caucasian). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Georgian │ ├── Old Georgian (extinct, liturgical) │ └── Modern Georgian (Standard, Imeretian, Kartlian, etc.) │ ├── Zan (Colchian) │ ├── Mingrelian │ └── Laz │ └── Svan ├── Upper Svan (Lentekhian, Ushgulian) └── Lower Svan (Lashkhian, Cholurian)


Proto-Semitic (around 3750–3500 BCE). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ ├── East Semitic (Extinct). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ └── Akkadian
│ ├── Old Akkadian (around 2500 BCE)
│ ├── Babylonian
│ └── Assyrian
│ ├── West Semitic. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │ │ ├── Central Semitic
│ │ ├── Arabic
│ │ │ ├── Classical Arabic
│ │ │ └── Modern Dialects (Egyptian, Levantine, Gulf, etc.)
│ │ │ │ │ └── Northwest Semitic
│ │ ├── Canaanite
│ │ │ ├── Hebrew (Biblical → Modern)
│ │ │ ├── Phoenician → Punic (Extinct)
│ │ │ └── Moabite/Ammonite (Extinct)
│ │ │ │ │ └── Aramaic
│ │ ├── Old Aramaic
│ │ ├── Syriac (Liturgical)
│ │ └── Neo-Aramaic (Turoyo, Assyrian)
│ │ │ └── Ethiopian Semitic (via migration)
│ ├── North Ethiopic (Ge’ez → Tigrinya, Tigré)
│ └── South Ethiopic (Amharic, Harari)
│ └── South Semitic. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Old South Arabian (Extinct: Sabaean, Minaean)
└── Modern South Arabian (Mehri, Soqotri)


Proto-Turkic (Root of all Turkic languages). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ └── Common Turkic. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ ├── Oghuz Branch (Southwestern Turkic) │ ├── Turkish (Turkey, Cyprus, Balkans) │ ├── Azerbaijani (Azerbaijan, Iran) │ ├── Turkmen (Turkmenistan) │ └── Gagauz (Moldova, Ukraine) │ ├── Karluk Branch (Southeastern Turkic) │ ├── Uzbek (Uzbekistan) │ └── Uyghur (China, Xinjiang) │ └── Kipchak Branch (Northwestern Turkic) ├── Kazakh (Kazakhstan) ├── Kyrgyz (Kyrgyzstan) └── Tatar (Russia, Tatarstan)


Sino-Tibetan
├── Sinitic (Chinese languages). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Tibeto-Burman
│ ├── Bodic (Tibetic)
│ │ ├── Tibetan (Lhasa, Amdo, Kham). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ ├── Sherpa (close to Tibetan). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │ └── Tamang (Nepal). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │
│ ├── Himalayish. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ ├── Newar (Nepal Bhasa)
│ │ └── Kiranti (e.g., Limbu)
│ │
│ ├── Magaric. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ └── Magar (Nepal)
│ │
│ ├── Lolo-Burmese
│ │ ├── Burmese (including Arakanese, Intha). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ └── Loloish (Yi, Naxi, Lisu). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │
│ ├── Sal. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │ ├── Jingpho (Kachin, Myanmar/North-East India)
│ │ └── Achang
│ │
│ └── Bai (Yunnan; debated—possibly an independent branch). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). └── (Other minor branches)


Tai-Kadai Language Family ├── Kam-Tai (Main Branch). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ ├── Tai Languages (Tai Proper) │ │ ├── Southwestern Tai (Thai-Lao Branch) │ │ │ ├── Thai (Siamese/Standard Thai) │ │ │ ├── Lao │ │ │ ├── Northern Thai (Lanna) │ │ │ ├── Isan │ │ │ └── Shan (Burma) │ │ │ │ │ ├── Northern Tai (e.g., Zhuang in China) │ │ └── Central Tai (e.g., Nung in Vietnam) │ │ │ └── Kam-Sui (e.g., Dong in China) │ └── Kra (e.g., Gelao in China/Vietnam)


Austroasiatic Language Family ├── Munda Branch (e.g., Santali, Mundari) — Spoken in East India. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). └── Mon-Khmer Branch ├── Khmer (Cambodian) — Official language of Cambodia. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Vietnamese — National language of Vietnam (though heavily Sinicized). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Pearic (e.g., Chong, Samre) — Small languages in Cambodia/Thailand. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Bahnaric (e.g., Bahnar, Tampuan) — Spoken in Vietnam/Cambodia. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Katuic (e.g., Katu, Bru) — Laos/Vietnam/Cambodia/Thailand. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Khmuic (e.g., Khmu) — Laos/Thailand/Vietnam. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). └── Other Mon-Khmer languages (e.g., Mon — spoken in Myanmar/Thailand). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).


Proto-Dravidian (around 3000–2000 BCE)
├── North Dravidian. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ ├── Kurukh (Oraon)
│ └── Brahui (Pakistan)

├── Central Dravidian
│ ├── Telugu (Old Telugu → Modern Telugu). → Dual Masculine Polarity (Sun: masculine, Moon: masculine). │ └── Gondi (Tribal language). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │
└── South Dravidian
├── Tamil-Kannada Branch
│ ├── Old Tamil (Sangam era) → Middle Tamil → Modern Tamil
1. Old Tamil (Sangam Era, 300 BCE – 300 CE). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). 2. Middle Tamil (Medieval Period, 300 CE – 1300 CE). → Dual Masculine Polarity (Sun: masculine, Moon: masculine). 3. Modern Tamil (Post-1300 CE to Present). → Dual Masculine Polarity (Sun: masculine, Moon: masculine). │ │ ├── Indian Tamil (dialects)
│ │ └── Sri Lankan/Malaysian Tamil
│ │
│ └── Kannada-Tulu Branch
│ ├── Old Kannada → Modern Kannada (with dialects)
│ └── Tulu (spoken in Karnataka/Kerala)

└── Malayalam Branch
├── Old Malayalam (from Middle Tamil)
└── Modern Malayalam (heavily Sanskritized)


Mongolic Languages (Modern). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ ├── Central Mongolic │ ├── Khalkha (Mongolia – Standard)
│ ├── Chakhar (Inner Mongolia, China)
│ ├── Ordos (Inner Mongolia, China)
│ ├── Khorchin (Eastern Inner Mongolia)
│ └── Oirat (Mongolia, China, Russia)
│ └── Kalmyk (Russia – Standardized written form)
│ ├── Southern Mongolic
│ ├── Shira Yugur (China)
│ └── Monguor (Tu) (China)
│ ├── Huzhu Monguor
│ └── Minhe Monguor
│ └── Dagur (Daur) (Inner Mongolia, Heilongjiang, China)


Japanese Language. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine).


Korean Language. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine).


Austronesian Language Family │ ├── Malayo-Polynesian │ │ │ ├── Philippine Languages (e.g., Tagalog, Cebuano, Ilokano). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ │ ├── Malay/Indonesian │ │ │ └── Oceanic (Polynesian, Micronesian, Melanesian languages) │ │ │ ├── Polynesian Languages. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ ├── Hawaiian (Hawaiʻi) │ │ ├── Māori (New Zealand) │ │ ├── Tahitian (French Polynesia) │ │ └── Other Polynesian (Samoan, Tongan, etc.) │ │ │ ├── Micronesian Languages │ │ ├── Chuukese (Chuuk, Federated States of Micronesia). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ │ └── Others (e.g., Marshallese, Gilbertese). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │ │ └── Fijian (Fiji, part of the Melanesian subgroup). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). │ └── Formosan Languages (Indigenous languages of Taiwan). → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).


Australian Aboriginal Languages │ ├── Non-Pama-Nyungan (Northern Australia) │ │ │ └── Yolŋu Matha (Arnhem Land, Northern Territory). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │ │ ├── Dhuwal (most widely spoken). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ │ ├── Gupapuyŋu │ │ └── Djambarrpuyŋu │ │ │ ├── Dhaŋu (e.g., Gälpu, Golumala). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ ├── Dhuwala (e.g., Gumatj, Rirratjŋu). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ └── Nhangu (coastal dialects). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). │ └── Pama-Nyungan (most other Australian languages). → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine).


Afro-Asiatic
├── Berber. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Hausa. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Oromo. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Somali. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). └── Tigrinya. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine).

Niger-Congo
├── Akan. → Reverse the solar/lunar polarity: (Sun: feminine, Moon: masculine). ├── Igbo. → Total inversion: (Sun: feminine, Moon: feminine). ├── Kikuyu. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Shona. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Yoruba. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). ├── Dinka. → Dual Masculine Polarity (Sun: masculine, Moon: masculine). └── Luo. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).

Nilo-Saharan
├── Kanuri. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). └── Maasai. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).

Khoe-Kwadi
└── Juǀ’hoansi. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).

Bantu (Niger-Congo subfamily)
├── Lingala. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine). └── Swahili. → No inversion (Sun: masculine, Moon: feminine).


Aquitanian (1st–5th century AD, attested in personal/god names). → Total inversion: (Sun: feminine, Moon: feminine). │
├─► Proto-Basque (Reconstructed ancestor, pre-Roman era)
│ │
│ ├─► Early Medieval Basque (Post-Roman, pre-standardization)
│ │ │
│ │ └─► Latin/Romance Influence (5th–15th century, vocabulary borrowings)
│ │
│ └─► Dialectal Diversification (Medieval period)
│ │
│ ├─► Western Basque (Biscayan, Gipuzkoan)
│ └─► Eastern Basque (Navarrese, Souletin, Lapurdian)

└─► Modern Basque (Euskara) (Standardized as “Euskara Batua” in 20th century)

Capitalism & Socialism: From Agrarian Nomadic Peoples #AgrarianNomadicPeoples #AgrarianNomadic

Title: The Tate Brothers' Departure: A Symptom of Western Decline
Tags: #CulturalDecline #TraditionalValues #SpiritualBankruptcy #ModernDecadence

  1. Cultural and Moral Decline: The Tate brothers' case highlights the deepening moral decay in Western society, where figures embroiled in serious allegations are still celebrated and supported.
  2. Spiritual Bankruptcy: Their alignment with Donald Trump, a symbol of modern individualism and materialism, reflects the spiritual void in contemporary culture.
  3. Hypocrisy of the Christian Electorate: The support from self-proclaimed morally superior Christian voters exposes their hypocrisy, as they endorse individuals whose actions starkly contradict traditional values.
  4. Parasitic Mentality: The zombie-like adherence to figures like Trump and the Tates reveals a parasitic mindset, devoid of genuine spiritual or intellectual depth.
  5. Fetishized Individualism: The glorification of individualistic, materialistic success over communal and traditional values underscores the West's detachment from higher principles.
  6. Erosion of Traditional Values: The case exemplifies the erosion of traditional moral frameworks, replaced by a culture of excess, exploitation, and moral relativism.
  7. Intellectual Bankruptcy: The inability of society to critically evaluate and reject such figures demonstrates a profound intellectual decline.
  8. Moral Contradictions: The Christian electorate's support for Trump and the Tates reveals a glaring contradiction between their professed values and their actions.
  9. Symbol of Decadence: The Tate brothers' rise and fall symbolize the broader decadence of a society that prioritizes material success over spiritual and ethical integrity.
  10. Call for Restoration: This situation underscores the urgent need for a return to traditional values and a rejection of the hollow, individualistic ethos that dominates modern Western culture.

Andrew Tate and his brother Tristan have left Romania for the United States after previously being barred from exiting the country, where they are facing charges of rape and human trafficking.

The Tate brothers, departed Romania on Thursday following the lifting of travel restrictions by Romanian authorities. Both had been under legal scrutiny and were prohibited from leaving the country as part of an ongoing criminal case. Andrew and Tristan Tate, who hold dual US-UK citizenship, were arrested in Romania in 2022 on allegations of human trafficking, sexual misconduct, money laundering, and involvement in organized crime. They have consistently denied the charges but were placed under house arrest after spending three months in police custody. Their movements had been restricted since their release.

Reports indicate that the brothers left Bucharest on a private jet early Thursday, bound for Florida, after Romanian officials returned their US passports. The Directorate for Investigating Organized Crime and Terrorism (DIICOT), the Romanian agency handling the case, confirmed that the travel ban had been lifted. This development follows speculation that the administration of former US President Donald Trump had been pressuring Romania to remove the travel restrictions. The Tate brothers are vocal supporters of Trump.

The situation involving Andrew and Tristan Tate, their legal troubles, and their departure from Romania reflects a broader cultural and moral decline. The alignment of their supporters with figures like Donald Trump underscores the spiritual and intellectual bankruptcy of contemporary Western society. The Christian electorate, often claiming moral superiority, reveals its hypocrisy by endorsing individuals whose actions contradict traditional values. This underscores the characteristic parasitic, zombie-like mentality of Trump's Christian voters, even as they consistently portray themselves as the leading Western figure, allegedly anointed by a fetishized individualistic god.

Metaphysical part:

The Swastika as a Polar Symbol

The following reflections on the deeper significance of the swastika might seem unusual if Herman Wirth's research on the primordial Nordic races were not already known in Germany. However, what deserves greater emphasis is that the ideas expressed in this regard are not merely the conjectures of a modern scholar. Rather, they can be linked to a doctrine that, despite its scattered traces, is found with the marks of universality and unanimity across all great traditions of the past—from the Far Eastern, Tibetan, Indo-Aryan, and Irano-Aryan to the Hellenic, Egyptian, Gaelic, Germanic, and Aztec. For us, it is clear that these traditions, if understood directly beyond “positive” limitations, can convey more than many dubious reconstructions based on philological and paleographic grounds.

The first insight from this line of thought is the integration of the concept of the Aryan, Indo-Germanic, or Nordic race. What was once considered a primordial tribe now reveals itself as a relatively recent branch of a much older and purer Arctic race, more accurately described by the ancient term “Hyperborean.” This integration resolves many one-sided views and difficulties that have plagued previous interpretations of the Aryan thesis. The Aryan idea thus rises to a universal principle, establishing a continuity and common origin of cultural elements that were once thought separate but are found scattered across the East and West, North and South. In this light, the swastika symbol takes on new meaning. The difficulties faced by Ernst Kraus or Ludwig Müller, who argued that the swastika was exclusive to Indo-Germanic tribes, are diminished when considering the broader Hyperborean origin. The swastika's presence in regions like California, Central America, the Far East, Mesopotamia, and North Africa—areas not traditionally associated with Indo-Germanic peoples—can be explained through the diffusion of the Nordic Ur-race.

The second key aspect is the solar character of the primordial Nordic culture. This is evident from the consistent testimonies of ancient traditions regarding the Arctic homeland. The Hyperborean land of the Iranian Aryans, airyanem waêjô, is allegorically described in the Avesta as the home of solar “glory” and Yima, the “Radiant, Glorious One, who among men is like the sun.” Similarly, the Indo-Aryans' Çweta-dwîpa or uttara-kuru, the sacred land of the far North, is depicted as the “White Island” or “Island of Radiance,” the abode of Narâyâna, “in whom a great fire burns, radiating in all directions.” The Hellenic Hyperboreans are associated with the radiant Apollo, while Thule, merging with it, is said to derive its name from the sun. The Aztec Tullan or Tlallocan corresponds etymologically to Thule and is identified with the “House of the Sun.” In the Edda, Gimle or Gladsheim, the primordial home of Asgard, is described as eternal, golden, and radiant like the sun. Similar descriptions apply to the mysterious northern lands in Far Eastern traditions and the mystical Chambhala of pre-Buddhist Tibetan Bön tradition.

This symbolic testimony points to two elements: the idea of a solar cult and the concept of solar rulership. Regarding the first, Wirth's reconstruction suggests that the Nordic-Atlantic Ur-race shared a common solar religion. While this assumption is plausible, it requires further justification. What is clear is the intimate relationship between the sun and divine fire, evident in Indo-European traditions. The cult of fire was linked to both the uranic and solar components of patrician rites in ancient traditions (Bachofen) and to the concept of solar and divine kingship. The Iranian-Aryan hvarenô, the “glory” that makes kings, is a solar fire, akin to the Vedic agni-rohita and the Egyptian ânshûs, the life-force of kingship. This provides the first and simplest validation of the swastika as a Nordic symbol. The swastika, in its connection to the ancient Swastika, has often been interpreted as a symbol of fire and the sun. However, it is crucial to move beyond a “naturalistic” reduction of these concepts. Ancient peoples did not superstitiously deify natural forces but used them as symbols to express higher meanings. The swastika, as a fire symbol, is not merely a primitive tool for igniting flames but a spiritual and royal symbol, representing the primordial light and fire that ignited the ruling castes in their solar function over subordinate forces and races.

The swastika's significance extends beyond its solar and fiery aspects to its polar symbolism. The “solar” function embodied by the leaders of great traditional cultures was often compared to that of a “pole.” The leader represented the immovable point around which the ordered movement of forces revolved hierarchically. This is reflected in the Far Eastern concept of “immutability at the center” and Confucius's statement: “He who rules by virtue is like the pole star, which remains fixed while all other stars revolve around it.” The Aristotelian concept of the “unmoved mover” and the Sanskrit term cakravartî (“he who turns the wheel”) express the same idea. The polar symbol represents an irresistible force in its calm superiority, a power that legitimizes itself through its mere presence, embodying the stability of the “world of being” or the transcendent realm. This is also the meaning of the solar symbol embodied by Apollo, not as the rising and setting sun but as the steady, ruling light that surrounds the Olympians and the pure spiritual substances free from the world of passion and becoming.

The swastika, as one of the oldest symbols of this spirituality and its polar function, represents not merely movement but a circular motion around an immutable center or axis. It is not just a solar symbol (the wheel of solar Vishnu) but a symbol of the solar principle reduced to a central, ruling element—an immutable “Olympian” principle. In this sense, the swastika is a polar symbol, revealing meanings in the earliest prehistory that would later be expressed in the glorious cycles of Aryan mythologies and kingships derived from the primordial Nordic culture.

The polar symbol also applies to certain cultures or cultural centers that embodied a corresponding function in the totality of history. The Chinese Empire was called the “Middle Kingdom”; Meru, the symbolic Indo-Aryan Olympus, was considered the “pole” of the earth; the symbolism of the Omphalos, associated with Delphi, the traditional center of Dorian-Olympian Greece, reflects the same meaning; and Asgard, the mystical homeland of Nordic royal lineages, coincides with Midgard, the “land of the center.” Even Cuzco, the center of the Inca Sun Empire, seems to express the idea of an earthly “center.” Additionally, the Sanskrit Tulâ, associated with the Hellenic and American names for the Hyperborean homeland, means “balance,” and the zodiac sign Libra was initially identified with the Great Bear, a significant figure in Hyperborean cults, closely tied to polar symbolism.

Wirth's revival of the idea that the Arctic region was the primordial homeland of the white race, the progenitor of the Indo-Germanic and Aryan races, suggests a convergence of symbol and reality, metaphysics and physics, under the sign of the “pole.” The prehistoric polar cycle of the Nordic Ur-race could be seen as the original expression of “Olympian” spirituality and the “polar” function, which manifested wherever it led to new cultures and traditions through adaptation or diffusion. The symbol of the “center” and the “pole” can thus be a traditional and supra-historical emblem, originally corresponding to a complete alignment of reality and symbol, pointing to a homeland that coincides with the Earth's geographic pole and embodies the value and function of a spiritual primordial “pole.”

Wirth, however, errs in extending a cult to the entire Nordic tradition that actually pertains to a corrupted and “southernized” form of it. He emphasizes the winter solstice, interpreting the eternal cycle of the sun's death and resurrection as the mystery of the primordial Nordic faith. This view, which aligns the sun with a nature subject to birth and death, is more reflective of the chthonic cycle of the southern, pre-Aryan, and even Semitic mother-cult, associated with the great Asiatic fertility goddesses. Alfred Rosenberg has pointed out this confusion in Wirth's work, likely due to the mingling of testimonies from the earliest Nordic epochs with those of later, mixed cultures. While Wirth correctly distinguishes between a Nordic-Arctic (Hyperborean) race and a Nordic-Atlantic one, he fails to make a corresponding distinction in symbols and motifs, blending the two. According to the Avesta, Môuru, the land and culture of the “mother,” appears only as the third “creation,” already distant from the Nordic airyanem waêjô.

The theme of the sun god's death and resurrection in the mother, reflecting an eternal cycle of becoming, is fundamentally anti-Olympian and alien to the higher Nordic-Aryan spirituality. It is a theme attributable to southern influences, representing Dionysus against Apollo, Loki against the Aesir, and the chaotic desire for pantheistic ecstasy opposed to the calm self-awareness and natural supernaturalism of the “divine” races. Wirth's interpretation thus reflects a syncretic symbolism, far removed from the pure primordial Aryan cult and more applicable to the subsequent “Atlantic” culture, which shows traces of gynocratic themes.

In contrast, the polar cross, the swastika, symbolizes the unadulterated primordial worldview and can be regarded as a true Nordic symbol in the higher sense. Its fundamental theme is not change but a centralizing effect, to which change remains subordinate. On this basis, the solar and fiery symbols contained in the swastika take on a different meaning, directly connected to the distinctly uranic character of Aryan and Aryan-Hyperborean deities and cults, the patrician system of strict father-right, and all that signifies masculinity, true rulership, order, and the triumph of cosmos over chaos.

In this context, the swastika can lead us to a content of Nordic thought that is “classical” and “Doric” in the higher sense, characterized by centrality, inner “Olympian” superiority, and clarity within every “fire” and release of forces. According to an ancient tradition, those destined to rule must have the vision of a heavenly wheel: like a wheel, they act, turning and conquering. At the same time, the wheel embodies rta, the order, the spiritual Aryan law, depicted as a divine chariot in motion. The combination of these two concepts gives the fundamental idea of the moving swastika: a whirling, victorious wheel that generates fire and light, yet with a firm stillness, an immutable constancy at its center.

As the primordial Nordic homeland faded into the distant past, its memory transitioned from history to supra-history, becoming a receding reality accessible not through external means but only through spiritual action. Pindar states that the path to the Hyperboreans cannot be found by sea or land but is revealed only to heroes like Heracles, who remain faithful to the Olympian principle. Li-tse reports that the mysterious land of the far North can be reached “neither by ship nor by chariot, but only by the flight of the spirit.” Similarly, Chambhala, the Hyperborean homeland in Tibetan tradition, is said to reside “in my spirit.”

Perhaps no symbol better points to this inner path than the swastika, guiding the way for a resurrection of Germany's deepest forces from the summit of Nordic tradition. Indeed, the Indo-Aryan equivalent of the swastika, the Swastika, carries a favorable omen. It can be interpreted as a monogram composed of the letters forming the auspicious formula su-asti, equivalent to the Latin bene est or quod bonum faustumque sit—”What is good and fortunate, let it be!” No better symbol could be found to express the certainty of rebirth and the will to assert the legacy of the great Hyperborean ruling race against the dark forces threatening to overwhelm it.