by Frank Gelli
THE MAHDI
I had watched the movie Khartoum. With Charlton Heston and Laurence Olivier. About the famous Mahdi’s revolt in Sudan. Heston plays Gordon, the great Englishman who defends Khartoum from the forces of Muhammad Ahmad of Dongola, a self-styled redeemer who fought British encroachments into his country. Today Olivier’s rendition, complete with blacked-up face, phoney Arab guttural accent and v-shaped gap between his front teeth, seems just grotesque but back then his character had mesmerised me. Perversely, I identified more with the Mahdi than with Gordon, the story’s goody. Evola listened to my description with a mildly amused look on his face.
‘The Mahdi comes at the end of time. He is a renewer of Islam. He does not bring any new doctrine to the religion. He comes to restore justice, order to a disordered world. Yet many men, many “would be Mahdi” have laid claim to the title in the past. The tooth gap is supposed to be one of the give-away signs to enable people to tell the true Mahdi but it is a questionable belief...Muhammad Ahmad was a charismatic type...pity he failed the ultimate test of a genuine Mahdi. That of success. The host of hundreds of thousands angels he had summoned to fight on his side never materialised. So he failed. That settles it. He was not the real, awaited restorer of Islam. Because in the end he was beaten. You see, a non-victorious Mahdi is an impossibility. The Mahdi is rightly-guided by God, hence he cannot lose.’
‘The British were petty. Not content with crushing the dervishes and destroying the Mahdi’s tomb, they sought to besmirch his reputation. John Buchan, an imperialist writer and politician, penned a book about Gordon and the Mahdi. I read it in German. It is basically a paean to the heroic Brits, or Scots, and a denigration of Muhammad Ahmad. Buchan allows that the Muslims leader sincerely believed himself to be the Mahdi. I am sure he was right there, but Buchan goes on to accuse him of low tricks. He insinuates that the would-be Mahdi needed to affect his audiences emotionally and so he put pepper under his fingernails, to feign weeping. The gift of tears, Catholics would call it. Buchan sinks so low in his defamation that he accuses Muhammad Ahmad of “debauchery”. A well-known Victorian era euphemism for plenty of sex. It simply shows Buchan’s own puritanical hang-ups. Islam does not consider sex intrinsically immoral. How could it be? Paradise is a state of perennial orgasm, in the Islamic view. Buchan fell very short of the presumed English virtue of fair play. Actually, it is known how the Mahdi personally gave refreshing drinks to European prisoners. Muhammad Ahmad could be a kind man, although not in the sense in which Europeans would necessarily understand.’
SARTRE AND THE JEWS
Back in the 60’s, the French existentialist philosopher Jean Paul Sartre during the summer months often visited Rome. I had seen him sitting outside at a cafe in Piazza Navona, central Rome. Unphilosophical friends from the far-right planned to punch Sartre on the nose but I refused to have anything to do with that and mercifully nothing happened. Existentialism was then no longer quite fashionable but I had read all of Sartre’s novels and plays. Especially one, The Flies, had interested me a lot. The reworking of a Greek myth. So I tried to get Evola to talk about it. He had not read it and did not care to discuss Greek drama. Instead, he launched himself into the subject of Sartre’s attitude to the Jews. He said: ‘Reflexions sur la Question Juive. A pamphlet by Sartre I re-read the other day. Well! Fancy someone who today entitled a book ‘Reflections on the Jewish Question’! I doubt he would find a publisher, would he? Sartre was always a staunch friend of the Jews, no one could tar him with anti-Semitism, yet this book was accused precisely of that.’
‘Sartre claims that there is no real Jewish question or problem. The only problem was that of anti-Semitism. He says that “the anti-Semite creates the Jew.” Illogical. Like saying that the anticommunist creates the Communist, or the antifascist the fascist. If he means that anti-Semitic prejudice constructs the Jew into a false image, a stereotype, that I would understand, though of course I would disagree! (Is Gentile conduct towards Jews never a response to some types of behaviour? Not a question Sartre would have countenanced, to be sure, but still it cannot be ruled out of court a priori.) Anyway, I don’t believe a Jew would ever accept that he is a creation of anti-Semites. Sartre invokes Manichaeism. The religion in which two rival gods fight it out. Light against darkness, good versus evil. Anti-Semitism is supposed to be like that. To divide reality into two opposing battlefields. But, again, that does not make evil the creator or artificer of good, nor indeed darkness the maker of light! Sycophants, I am told, call Sartre ‘cher maitre’, dear Master. Well, voila’ a master of obfuscation, I tell you.’
‘Sartre also has a go at the liberals. Although lovers of the Jews, they too are on the wrong track, according to him. He says they want the same rights for all but then they also expect the Jews to be like everybody else. They object to the Jew’s Jewishness. They expect him to assimilate, to integrate, to become like non-Jews. To metamorphosise into a Gentile, in other words. And so they actually reproach a Jewish person for defining himself as a Jew. You know, that sounds pretty anti-Semitic to me! Particularly as it comes from somebody who says he is on the side of the Jews.’
‘His argument hinges on the existentialist notion of authenticity. For the Jew to be authentic means to live fully his condition as a Jew. To be inauthentic is to deny that condition, or trying to escape it. The Jew, he says, should choose himself as a Jew, realise his Jewish condition, he cannot choose not to be a Jew. And so on.’
‘In fact, a Jew can choose to be a non-Jew – by undergoing baptism, for example. Historically, many Jews have converted to Christianity. They have not always been forced into it. It was their choice, for whatever reasons. So what Sartre says is empirically wrong – not my favourite word, “empirical”, as you know but sometimes it comes handy.’
‘Sartre speaks as if he admitted there was an innate, ontological difference between Jew and non-Jew. Many would call that “anti-Semitic”! He was not religious, so where did he think the difference lie? In behaviour? But he could hardly agree with vulgar anti-Semites and say that Jewish behaviour is obnoxious. Maybe he meant that the Jews are better than Gentiles. In that case, no problem. No one would object to being called “superior”, apart from the effete Aryans of our time, of course. Unfortunately, that poses the Jewish question all over again. The multitude loathes anyone perceived as superior to them – that always causes a reaction. Call it anti-Semitism or resistance, it depends on your point of view...’
‘It may be ad hominem, but, to put no fine a point on it, Sartre is quite an ugly man. Small, coarsely featured and squint-eyed. His ugliness, I think, is very different from Socrates’ ugliness. It mirrors something fundamental in his soul. We know he is very mean, stingy. His avarice is legendary, they say. He’d never buy you an espresso! Hell is other people, a character in his plays says. For me, Hell would be to spend a few hours having to listen to the Professor’s thoughts about the Jews. Or anything else.’
‘He was, I seem to remember, pretty fixated with the gaze of others...The way they looked at him...It disturbed him...Sartre builds that into a kind of existential anthropology, even an ontology of being...He thought an alien gaze makes you into someone else, creates an image over which youhave no control, robbing you of your being. Nonsense! I wonder whether he felt that way psychologically because he was conscious of how ungainly he looked. “Look what a freak of a man!” he imagined other people thinking as they gazed at him... It argues for some inferiority complex haunting the man... I, by contrast, have never given a damn about the look of others on me. Not only am I better-looking that Sartre, I also definitely don’t feel inferior to the animalcule that pass for humanity these days...’
Evola’s sweeping remarks were perhaps a tad unfair to the French philosopher – Being and Nothingness is good metaphysical broth, still well worth studying - but I did not want to voice my feelings – I was still callow in philosophy and the Master overawed me. Today I think a large problem with Sartre was his muddy, vague cate
gory of authenticity. (As well as with his key distinction between beings en soi and pour soi – animate and inanimate beings.) What counts as being truly authentic? I read a biography of Sartre. Benny Levy, for years a close follower of the philosopher, later gave up Marxism to embrace Orthodox Judaism. He chose to realise his Jewishness that way. To be authentic. But Sartre thought religion backward, reactionary, passé. He hated it nearly as much as anti-Semitism. But how could he object to a Jew embracing ultra-orthodox Judaism, if all it matters is to be authentic? Also, a few years ago in Istanbul a Turkish Islamist blew himself up, along with several innocent people. It then transpired he was an avid reader of Sartre. Presumably he too hankered after being “authentic”. A muddle!
THE QUR’AN AND HUMAN INVOLUTION
The Metaphysics of Sex is one of Evola’s most stimulating books. I still remember the impact it made on me. That astonishing, really counter-cultural line in the opening chapter, entitled Eros and Sexual Love. Evola boldly brushes aside the Darwinist theory of evolution as regressive. Man, according to him, did not evolve from a lower, animal species, like the apes. Rather, he claims that it is the ape that is “derived from man by involution”! True or not, I just loved it.
At the time I was an unsophisticated and dogmatic Darwinist. I did not quite fully grasp the richness of the Master’s argument in the Metaphysics of Sex. He realised that. When I timidly alluded to my difficulties he told me to read his book. When I said I had read it, he replied: ‘Then go and read it again!’ But after a while he mellowed. He did not try to persuade me in a rationalistic way – that was not his method. Instead, he invoked the Islamic revelation: ‘If you wish for a proof – or more than a proof - I can do no better than offering you a passage from Islam’s holy book. The Qur’an says:
And ye know of those of you who broke the Sabbath, how We said unto them: Be ye apes, despised and hated! (2:65)
‘The literal meaning of this verse of course is about an infraction of the law of Moses. That law stipulated that the punishment for violating the command to rest on the Sabbath was death. On the exoteric, outer level the meaning is clear. But the Qur’an, a high spiritual text, has many layers of meanings. Sufis, for example, delve into the deepest layers – they are like astronauts of the spirit...In this particular case, esoterically speaking, Sufis gloss the word “death”, in conjunction with what follows it, as signifying regression to a lower, inferior state of being. So, the Book of Allah says that the transgressors were turned into animals, apes. Do you not understand? Revelation here discloses the true meaning of things. The spiritual movement is not always from the lower to the higher, the evolutionary “ascent of man”, but, in some cases of extreme degeneracy of a people, a culture or a civilisation, from the higher to the lower. From man to ape. The descent of man! In other words, involution obtains. It is a well-deserved punishment, to be sure. It arose as a result of extreme human misconduct. What religion conventionally calls transgression or sin. When human beings regress, when they forsake their higher calling and sink to the level of the beasts, it is appropriate they should become beasts...Even staying on the literal plane, you cannot escape this plain conclusion. The Qur’an could not be clearer on this point.’ He then quoted Dante. Odysseus’ speech to his friends before the last, epic adventure beyond the outer boundaries of the world:
Considerate la vostra semenza. Fatti non foste a viver come bruti, ma per seguir virtute e conoscenza.
‘Human beings were not created to live like animals, succumb to their lower natures, but to follow and pursue knowledge and wisdom. The sublime poet’s insight is consistent with the Qur’an. What more do you want?’
After perusal of the passage, the next time I saw him I suggested that the reference seemed to be about the people of the Sabbath, the Hebrews. I was relieved when he abstained from any negative remarks about Jews: ‘Yes, but the Qur’an is a universal book. Its message encompasses all humanity. Hence the deep lesson in our passage concerns all human beings. Besides, whatever faults you could have attributed to the Jews in the past, they are now common and widespread amongst Gentiles, the non-Jews. Moral degeneracy is not the prerogative of any particular ethnic group. It would easier if it was. Today the whole world is polluted. Apart, from Israel, perhaps...’ He quipped, with typical Evolian sarcasm. Be that as it may, I was happy he had not seized the opportunity to inveigh against the Jews – a people I always found very difficult not to like and even admire.
‘To be called a monkey is a deadly insult to a Muslim. (It was so for the Vorticists, do you know? The Blast Manifesto blasted “fraternising with monkeys” - a good example of art and truth as two holy sisters...).’ He continued and told me a story only the mere outlines of which linger in my memory. Here it is, with a bit of personal embroidery: ‘Princess Sheherazade in the Arabian Nights manages to stay alive by regaling the Sultan every day with a new, entrancing tale. This, however, is a story which never made it into the celebrated book. About Sindbad the Sailor. While voyaging on the Seven Seas the hero one lands on a green island. Sindbad expects it to be inhabited by civilised people. Alas, they turn out to be nasty, degenerate apes. A disgusting, filthy breed. They make obscene gestures and threaten Sindbad. Revolted, the sailor hastens to return to his ship when an old, mangy ape stops him in his tracks and begs him to listen to what he has to say. “Wait, o stranger! Before you leave, listen to the truth about this sad place.” So Sindbad harkens to his words.
“You must know, my friend, that this island was not always as bad and degraded as you see it now. They used to call it the Island of Bliss. Our ancestors were not apes but human, noble creatures. They lived together in peace and followed rational laws. High culture, art, philosophy, poetry...Crime was unknown. Piety was the norm – beautiful temples, in which men worshipped their Creator, were plentiful. All was well until news reached them of a nearby island where things were quite the reverse. Out of curiosity, a party sailed off to find out. It was worse than they expected. A nightmare. Mocking and murderous monkeys jumped all over the place. Unnatural vices prevailed... The men tried to sail away but the cunning savages had sabotaged the ship. They killed many men. The survivors, except one, they forced to interbreed with them. Their bastard progeny lost all recollection of their better, higher origin. Worse, the diabolical slyness was increased.”
The rest of the story was to the effect that somehow the apes managed to reach the first island, massacred most of the people and forced the survivors to copulate with them. Result: memories of the former, nobler existence was soon lost in the half-breed progeny. The old ape concludes thus: “Now, o stranger, you can comprehend the extent of the wretchedness of our unhappy island. Pity us!”
I can visualise Evola’s quizzical, penetrating gaze on me, as he finished the story. He did not draw any conclusion. He left me to ponder its lesson. To work it out for myself. Just as you, o reader, must be left to draw your own moral.
DALLE STELLE ALLE STALLE
La Dolce Vita, directed by Federico Fellini, is a favourite movie of mine. Set in the modern city of Rome, it portrays many forms of alienation and decadence. One episode shows the Roman aristocracy – l’aristrocrazia nera – as spent, effete, if still pious. The ending is memorable. After a night of orgy in a villa by the seaside, the hero, a journalist, and his shallow and debauched friends wander unto the beach. There they find fishermen hauling ashore a monstrous dead fish, a freak of nature. Both repelled and attracted, they behold the creature. It is as if looking into a mirror, Fellini seems to suggest...
Despite his own origins, and his many aristocratic friends, Evola agreed: ‘Fellini’s style is anarchic and inflated. A bit showy but very effective. A fantasist genius. And he gets that right. I mean, the so-called aristocrats in La Dolce Vita are degenerates, what else? Etymologically, aristocracy means the rule of the best. But what if the best become the worst? Then the aristocracts contradict their own nature, their essential spiritual calling. They turn into freaks. So, Fellini’s metapho
r hits the nail on the head. Yes, freaks are also “wondrous to behold”. “Monster” comes from a Latin verb meaning “to show”. The degenerates make a spectacle of themselves – a ludicrous, shameful one, to be sure. The members of a high caste whose whole raison d’etre was to demonstrate excellence and superiority, their right to rule, prove instead to have become inferior, debased...But there is nothing new in this. You know how during the French Revolution the King’s own cousin, Philippe d’Orleans, embraced the rebellion? To carry favour with the bourgeoisie, he even changed his name to “Philippe Egalite”. Philip Equality! He was pandering to the rabble bent on the extermination of his own caste. So he ended up voting for the King’s execution. A measure of his self-degradation. Little good did it do him - in the end the revolutionaries cut off his head too...Like Saturn, the revolution devours its own children...it was partly the outcome of a conspiracy, yes. But it was also a nemesis, the retribution which a dissolute, worthless caste had brought upon itself. They had become worthless...Ripe for the culling...Sure, there were exceptions. Brave noblemen fought back, like in the Vendee’ revolt but, on the whole, decay had set in...The English may seem to have held out best but of course their aristocrats are largely phoney. Parvenus... Very few go back to the original Norman nobility, those who came over with William the Conqueror. Most wiped themselves out in the War of the Roses. Many mingled their blood with the mercantile class. More recently, like Churchill’s father, aristocrats married the daughters of American magnates. And their House of Lords no longer has any real political power. Their aristocracy, like their monarchy, are museum pieces. Good only for tourism. They have survived, yes, but at the cost of forsaking whatever original meaning they might have had. The French aristocrats who perished under the guillotine at least had a sort of tragic dignity...their English counterpart have none.’