Eco: Foucalt's Pendulum

by eco umberto foucault

  "Saint-Yves claimed to have been visited one day by a mysterious Afghan, a man named Hadji Scharipf, who can't have been an Afghan, because the name is clearly Albanian...This man revealed to him the secret dwelling place of the King of the World, though Saint-Yves himself never used that expression he called it Agarttha, the place that cannot be found." "Where did he write this?"

  "In his Mission de I'lnde en Europe, a work that, incidentally, has influenced a great deal of contemporary political thought. In Agarttha there are underground cities, and below them, closer to the center, live the five thousand sages that govern it. The number five thousand suggests, of course, the hermetic roots of the Vedic language, as you gentlemen know. And each root is a magic hierogram connected to a celestial power and sanctioned by an infernal power. The central dome of Agarttha is lighted from above by something like mirrors, which allow the light from the planet's surface to arrive only through the enharmonic spectrum of colors, as opposed to the solar spectrum of our physics books, which is merely diatonic. The wise ones of Agarttha study all holy languages in order to arrive at the universal language, which is Vattan. When they come upon mysteries too profound, they levitate, and would crack their skulls against the vault of the dome if their brothers did not restrain them. They forge the lightning bolts, they guide the cyclic currents of the interpolar and intertropical fluids, the interferential extensions in the different zones of the earth's latitude and longitude. They select species and have created small animals with extraordinary psychic powers, animals which have a tortoise shell with a yellow cross, a single eye, and a mouth at either end. And polypod animals which can move in all directions. Agarttha is probably where the Templars found refuge after their dispersion, and where they perform custodial duties. Anything else?"

  "But...was he serious?" I asked.

  "I believe he was. At first, we considered him a fanatic, but then we realized that he was referring, perhaps in a visionary, figurative way, to an occult direction of history. Isn't it said that history is a bloodstained and senseless riddle? No, impossible; there must be a Design. There must be a Mind. That is why over the centuries men far from ignorant have thought of the Masters or the King of the World not as physical beings but as a collective symbol, as the successive, temporary incarnation of a Fixed Intention. An Intention with which the great priestly orders and the vanished chivalries were in touch."

  "Do you believe this?" Belbo asked.

  "Persons more balanced than d'Alveydre seek the Unknown Superiors."

  "And do they find them?"

  Aglie laughed, as if to himself. "What sort of Unknown Superiors would they be if they allowed the first person who comes along to know them? Gentlemen, we have work to do. There is one more manuscript here and¡Xwhat a coincidence!¡Xit's a treatise on secret societies."

  "Any good?" Belbo asked.

  "Perish the thought. But it could do for Manutius."

  53

  Unable to control destinies on earth openly because governments would resist, this mystic alliance can act only through secret societies...These, gradually created as the need for them arises, are divided into distinct groups, groups seemingly in opposition, sometimes advocating the most contradictory policies in religion, politics, economics, and literature; but they are all connected, all directed by the invisible center that hides its power as it thus seeks to move all the scepters of the earth.

  ¡XJ. M. Hoene-Wronski, quoted by P. Sedir, Histoire et doctrine des Rose-Croix, Bibliotheque des Hermetistes, Paris, 1910

  One day I saw Signor Salon at the door of his laboratory. Suddenly, for no reason, I expected him to hoot like an owl. He greeted me as if I were an old friend and asked how things were going at work. I made a noncommittal gesture, smiled at him, and hurried on.

  I was struck again by the thought of Agarttha. Saint-Yves's ideas, as Aglie had explained them, might be fascinating to a Diabolical¡Xbut certainly not alarming. And yet in Salon's words and in his face, when we met in Munich, there had been alarm.

  So, as I went out, I decided to drop in at the library and look for La Mission de I'lnde en Europe.

  There was the usual mob in the catalog room and at the call desk. With some shoving I got hold of the drawer I needed, found the call number, filled out a slip, and handed it to the clerk. He informed me that the book had been checked out¡X and, as usual in libraries, he seemed to enjoy giving me this news. But at that very moment a voice behind me said, "Actually, it is available. I just returned it." I looked around and saw Inspector De Angelis.

  And he recognized me¡Xtoo quickly, I thought, since I had seen him in circumstances that for me were exceptional, whereas he had met me in the course of a routine inquiry. Also, in the Ardenti days I had had a wispy beard and longer hair. What a sharp eye!

  Had he been keeping me under surveillance since my return to Italy? Or was he simply good at faces? Policemen had to master the science of observation, memorize features, names...

  "Signor Casaubon! We're reading the same books!"

  I held out my hand." "It's Dr. Casaubon now. Has been for a while. Maybe I'll take the police entrance exam, as you advised me that morning. Then I'll be able to get the books first."

  "All you have to do is be here first," he said. "But the book's returned now, and you can collect it. Let me buy you a coffee meanwhile."

  The invitation made me uncomfortable, but I couldn't say no. We sat in a neighborhood cafe. He asked me how I happened to be interested in the mission of India, and I was tempted to ask him how he happened to be interested in it, but I decided first to deflect his suspicion. I told him that in my spare time I was continuing my study of the Templars. According to Eschen-bach, the Templars left Europe and went to India, some believe to the kingdom of Agarttha. Now it was his turn. "But tell me," I asked, "why did you take out the book?"

  "Oh, you know how these things go," he replied. "Ever since you suggested that book on the Templars to me, I've been reading up on the subject. I don't have to tell you that after the Templars, the next logical step is Agarttha." Touche. Then he said: "I was joking. I took the book because..." He hesitated. "The fact is, when I'm off duty, I like to browse in libraries. It keeps me from turning into a robot, a mechanical cop. You could probably express the idea more elegantly...But tell me about yourself."

  I gave a performance: an autobiographical summary, down to the wonderful adventure of metals.

  He asked me: "In that publishing firm, and in the one next door, aren't you doing books on the occult sciences?"

  How did he know about Manutius? From information gathered years before, when he was keeping an eye on Belbo? Or was he still on the Ardenti case?

  "With characters like Colonel Ardenti turning up constantly at Garamond, and with Manutius there to handle them," I said, "Signer Garamond decided that was rich soil, worth tilling. If you look for such types, you can find them by the carload."

  "But Ardenti disappeared. I hope the others don't."

  "They haven't yet, though I almost wish they would. However, satisfy my curiosity, Inspector. I imagine in your job people disappear, or worse, every day. Do you devote so much time to all of them?"

  He looked at me with amusement. "What makes you think I'm still devoting time to Colonel Ardenti?"

  All right, he was gambling, had raised the ante, and it was up to me now to call his bluff if I had the courage, make him show his cards. What was there to lose? "Come, Inspector," I said, "you know everything about Garamond and Manutius, and you were looking for a book on Agarttha..."

  "You mean Ardenti spoke to you about Agarttha?"

  Touche again. Yes, Ardenti had spoken to us about Agarttha, too, as far as I could remember. But I parried: "No, only about the Templars."

  "I see," he said. Then he added: "You mustn't think we follow a case until it's solved. That only happens on television. Being a cop is like being a dentist: a patient comes in, you give him a little of the old drill, prescribe something, he comes back in two wee
ks, and in the meantime you deal with a hundred other patients. A case like the colonel's can remain in the active file maybe for ten years, and then, while you're in the middle of a different case, taking some confession, there's a hint, a clue, and, wham!, a short circuit in the brain, you get an idea¡Xor else you don't, and that's it."

  "And what did you find recently that brought on a short circuit?"

  "An indiscreet question, don't you think? But there are no mysteries, believe me. The colonel came up again by chance. We were keeping an eye on a character, for quite different reasons, and found he was spending time at the Picatrix Club. You've heard of it?..."

  "I know the magazine, not the club. What goes on there?"

  "Nothing, nothing at all. People a bit loony, maybe, but well behaved. Then I remembered that Ardenti used to go there¡Xa cop's talent consists entirely of remembering things, a name, a face, even after ten years have gone by. And so I began wondering what was happening at Garamond. That's all."

  "What does the Picatrix Club have to do with your political squad?"

  "Perhaps it's the impertinence of a clear conscience, but you seem tremendously curious."

  "You're the one who invited me for coffee."

  "True, and both of us are off duty. See here: if you look at the world in a certain way, everything is connected to everything else." A nice hermetic philosopheme, I thought. He immediately added: "I'm not saying that those people are connected with politics, but...There was a time when we went looking for the Red Brigades in squats and the Black Brigades in martial arts clubs; nowadays the opposite could be true. We live in a strange world. My job, I assure you, was easier ten years ago. Today, even among ideologies, there's no consistency. There are times when I think of switching to narcotics. There, at least you can rely on a heroin pusher to push heroin."

  There was a pause¡Xhe was hesitating, I think. Then, from his pocket, he produced a notebook the size of a missal. "Look, Casaubon, you see some strange people as part of your job. You go to the library and look up even stranger books. Help me. What do you know about synarchy?"

  "Now you're embarrassing me. Almost nothing. I heard it mentioned in connection with Saint-Yves; that's all."

  "What are they saying about it, around?"

  "If they're saying anything, I haven't heard. To be frank, it sounds like fascism to me."

  "Actually, many of its theses were picked up by Action Francaise. If that were the whole story, I'd be okay. I find a group that talks about synarchy and I can give it a political color. But in my reading, I've learned that in 1929 a certain Vivian Postel du Mas and Jeanne Canudo founded a group called Polaris, which was inspired by the myth of the King of the World. They proposed a synarchic project: social service opposed to capitalist profit, the elimination of the class struggle through cooperatives...It sounds like a kind of Fabian socialism, a libertarian and communitarian movement. Note that both Polaris and the Irish Fabians were accused of being involved in a syn-archic plot led by the Jews. And who accused them? The Revue Internationale des societes secretes, which talks about a Jewish-Masonic-Bolshevik plot. Many of its contributors belonged to a secret right-wing organization called La Sapiniere. And they say that all these revolutionary groups are only the front for a diabolical plot hatched by an occultist cenacle. Now you'll say: All right, Saint-Yves ended up inspiring reformist groups, but these ! days the right lumps everything together and sees it all as a demo-pluto-social-Judaic conspiracy. Mussolini did the same thing. But why accuse them of being controlled by an occultist cenacle? According to the little I know¡Xtake Picatrix, for example¡Xthose occultism people couldn't care less about the workers' movement." "So it seems also to me, O Socrates. So?" "Thanks for the Socrates. But now we're coming to the good part. The more I read on the subject, the more I get confused. In the forties various self-styled synarchic groups sprang up; they talked about a new European order led by a government of wise men, above party lines. And where did these groups meet? In Vichy collaborationist circles. Then, you say, we got it wrong; synarchy is right-wing. But hold on! Having read this far, I begin to see that there is one theme that finds them all in agreement: Synarchy exists and secretly rules the world. But here comes the ¡¥but'..." "But?"

  "But on January 24, 1937, Dmitri Navachine, Mason and Martinist (I don't know what Martinist means, but I think it's one of those sects), economic adviser of the Front Populaire, after having been director of a Moscow bank, was assassinated by the Organisation secrete d'action revolutionnaire et nationale, better known as La Cagoule, financed by Mussolini. It was said then that La Cagoule was guided by a secret synarchy and that Navachine was killed because he had discovered its mysteries. A document originating from left-wing circles during the Occupation denounced a synarchic Pact of the Empire, which was responsible for the French defeat, a pact that was a manifestation of Portuguese-style fascism. But then it turned out that the pact was drawn up by Du Mas and Canudo and contained ideas they had published and publicized everywhere. Nothing secret about it. But these ideas were revealed as secret, extremely secret, in 1946 by one Husson, who denounced a revolutionary synarchic pact of the left, as he wrote in his Synarchie, panorama de 25 annees d'activite occulte, which he signed...wait, let me find it...Geoffrey de Charnay." "Fine!" I said. "Charnay was a companion of Molay, the grand master of the Templars. They died together at the stake. Here we have a neo-Templar attacking synarchy from the right. But synarchy is born at Agarttha, which is the refuge of the Templars!"

  "What did I tell you? You see, you've given me an additional clue. Unfortunately, it only increases the confusion. So, on the right, a synarchic pact of the left is denounced as socialist and secret, though it's not really secret; it's the same synarchic pact, as you saw, that was denounced by the left. And now we come to new revelations: synarchy is a Jesuit plot to undermine the Third Republic. A thesis expounded by Roger Mennevee, leftist. To allow me to sleep nights, my reading then tells me that in 1943 in certain Vichy military circles¡XPetainist, yes, but anti-German¡Xdocuments circulated that prove synarchy was a Nazi plot: Hitler was a Rosicrucian influenced by the Masons, who now have moved from hatching a Judeo-Bolshevik plot to making an imperial German one."

  "So everything is settled."

  "If only that were all. Yet another revelation: Synarchy is a plot of the international technocrats. This was asserted in 1960 by one Villemarest, Le 14' complot du 13 mai. The techno-synarchic plot wants to destabilize governments and, to do it, provokes wars, backs coups d'etat, foments schisms in political parties, promotes internecine hatreds...Do you recognize these synarchists? "

  "My God, it's the IMS, the Imperialist Multinational State¡X what the Red Brigades were talking about a few years ago!"

  "The answer is correct. And now what does Inspector De Angelis do if he finds a reference to synarchy somewhere? He asks the advice of Dr. Casaubon, the Templar expert."

  "My answer: There exists a secret society with branches throughout the world, and its plot is to spread the rumor that a universal plot exists."

  "You're joking, but I¡X"

  "I'm not joking. Come and read the manuscripts that turn up at Manutius. But if you want a more down-to-earth explanation, it's like the story of the man with a bad stammer who complains that the radio station wouldn't hire him as an announcer because he didn't carry- a party card. We always have to blame our failures on somebody else, and dictatorships always need an external enemy to bind their followers together. As the man said, for every complex problem there's a simple solution, and it's wrong."

  "And if, on a train, I find a bomb wrapped in a flier that talks about synarchy, is it enough for me to say that this is a simple solution to a complex problem?"

  "Why? Have you found bombs on trains that...No, excuse me. That's really not my business. But why did you say that to me, then?"

  "Because I was hoping you'd know more than I do. Because perhaps I'm relieved to see you can't make head or tail of it either. You say you have to rea
d lunatics by the carload and you consider it a waste of time. I don't. For me, the works of your lunatics¡Xby ¡¥your' I'm referring to you normal people¡Xare important texts. What a lunatic writes may explain the thinking of the man who puts the bomb on the train. Or are you afraid of becoming a police informer?"

  "No, not at all. Besides, looking for things in card catalogs is my business. If the right piece of information turns up, I'll keep you in mind."

  As he rose from his chair, De Angelis dropped the last question: "Among your manuscripts...have you ever found any reference to the Tres?"

  "What's that?"

  "I don't know. An organization, maybe. I don't even know if it exists. I've heard it mentioned, and it occurred to me in connection with your lunatics. Say hello to your friend Belbo for me. Tell him I'm not keeping tabs on any of you. The fact is, I have a dirty job, and my misfortune is that I enjoy it."

  As I went home, I asked myself who had come out ahead. He had told me a number of things; I'd told him nothing. If I wanted to be suspicious, I could think perhaps that he had got something out of me without my being aware of it. But if you're too suspicious, you fall into the psychosis of synarchic plots.

  When I told Lia about this episode, she said: "If you ask me, he was sincere. He really did want to get it all off his chest. You think he can find anyone at police headquarters who will listen to him wonder whether Jeanne Canudo was right-wing or left? He only wanted to find out if it's his fault he can't understand it or if the whole thing is too difficult. And you weren't able to give him the one true answer.''

  "The one true answer?"

  "Of course. That there's nothing to understand. Synarchy is God."

  "God?"

  "Yes. Mankind can't endure the thought that the world was born by chance, by mistake, just because four brainless atoms bumped into one another on a slippery highway. So a cosmic plot has to be found¡XGod, angels, devils. Synarchy performs the same function on a lesser scale."