Pagan Imperialism

Julius Evola

Our European Symbol

Conclusion

So, we believe we have said enough because the main features of our imperial myth have been made clearly recognisable. Here it is only about a stance. The systematic and comprehensive development of the premises which can consolidate this stance in a form which is not, as is here, that of a military campaign, is found in our other writings.

In the beginning we said that European civilisation must count on a radical upheaval, without which it is doomed to collapse. The plebeian superstition, according to which Western man has believed in the chimera of development and to which he has devoted his material conquest of the world, has fortunately vanished. To speak of decline of the West is no longer, like yesterday—or like in the century of the Enlightenment and in the Jacobin custom of the goddess Reason—an absurd heresy. More or less everywhere, the ultimate outcome which the praised “civilisation” had to lead to are disclosed. Confronted with this outcome, it seems that some men return to their past, so that new forces might arise for the reconquest.

And this is why an appeal, which this book intends to represent, is not lacking justification today. There are still men who do not belong to this modern world and whom nothing in this world could lead astray, exalt or humiliate—but who nevertheless are ready to fight this world with all their strength, as soon as it is time to.

Everyone knows of the saga of the Ghibelline emperor who awaits his awakening in the “mountain” to fight the last battle with his loyal men. This will occur when the hordes of Gog and Magog have demolished the symbolic wall which barred their way, and they will fling themselves into the conquest of the world—the one who renders the sense of this apocalyptic myth into reality cannot avoid thinking that that moment is no longer distant. The hordes of Gog and Magog are the demons of the collective and the emergence of the socialist mass-man, omnipotent all over the world, in spirit as in matter. Opposed to this, the imperial Ghibelline symbol represents the call to muster the still healthy forces.

We have not spoken much of “politics”, of social or economic reforms, since the thought of reaching a revival in this way is simply ridiculous: it would be like applying remedies on the sick parts of the body when the blood is already infected or poisoned. What only matters is the establishment of an order of values so that by their realisation the dark destinies which, even on the material plane, weigh on Europe can be averted. To the one who tells us that this is not politics and reality, we calmly answer that he no longer knows what politics mean, what reality means.

The exaltation created by moments of danger, crisis, and alarm is composed of various, often irrational and contradictory, elements. Consequently, if one examines the various contemporary social and cultural, reactionary, and reformist movements, one will find in them many impure factors, conditioned from below, passions belonging in one way or another to the same evil against which they would like to defend themselves. But, in a few movements, one can find something better, a will in which the possibility of a true revival secretly may awaken.

The path to this will must be pointed out.

For the unbroken, the unvanquished, we propose the symbol rooted deep in Tradition and assert that it is only by a return to solar spirituality, to the living vision of the world, to the virile and pagan ethos, and to the imperial ideal, as sacred inheritance of our Nordic-Aryan blood, that the forces of the European revolt will be able to burn in that soul where they are still lacking, and only that will be able to give them an absolute self-consciousness, only that will be able to break up the circle of the “dark age” of the West.