Wednesday, July 12, 2023

The Claws of the Sphinx, by Olavo de Carvalho

The Claws of the Sphinx – René Guénon and the Islamization of the West, by Olavo de Carvalho, provides a comprehensive critique of René Guénon’s traditionalist school of thought, which places significant emphasis on universal spiritual truths, and its implications for the West, particularly the Catholic Church. The work begins with an examination of the superficial universalism promoted by the United Religions Initiative (URI), contrasting it with the deep, intellectual traditionalism championed by Guénon and his disciples. Olavo underlines the transformative power of embracing the traditionalist perspective and emphasizes the need to seek nourishment beyond New Age superficiality.

Parts II and III delve deeper into religious traditions, particularly Islam, and critique Guénon’s distinction between exoteric (public rituals) and esoteric (hidden teachings) elements. Olavo questions the applicability of these concepts to other traditions like Hinduism and Christianity. He also delves into metaphysics, positing it as the structure of universal reality shared across all traditions, and introduces the idea of essential and accidental heresy, distinguishing between alterations to the structure of reality and specific aspects within a tradition. Olavo raises questions about the relationship between metaphysics and the culmination of traditions, suggesting that the primordial Tradition may serve as a common foundation for all cultures and traditions.

In the final sections, Olavo explores the challenges Catholics face in the context of Guénon’s teachings, including the perceived loss of spiritual depth within the Catholic Church. He also discusses Guénon’s predictions for the future of the West, positing that Guénon’s work essentially pushes for the Islamization of the West. Olavo then explores factors that hinder the perception of Guénon as an Islamic agent, such as Guénon’s disregard for political ideologies and activities, and his disciples’s view of his work as a divine intervention. He concludes by emphasizing that, despite its intellectual appeal, Guénon’s traditionalism offers no path of salvation for the West other than through Islamization.

The Claws of the Sphinx – René Guénon and the Islamization of the West

Olavo de Carvalho
Verbum, Year I, Numbers 1 and 2, July-October 2016

I

The profound historical and spiritual transformations that will determine the future of humanity are so far removed from our media, our academic life, and, in general, from all public debates in this country that what I am about to say in this article will undoubtedly seem stratospheric and disconnected from immediate reality.

An incurable patient groaning in pain on a hospital bed will hardly be interested, at that moment, in medical, biochemical, and pharmacological controversies taking place in distant countries and in languages he does not understand, but from which a cure for his illness may one day come. What is more closely related to his destiny seems distant, abstract, and unrelated to his pain.

Those who are interested in the future of Brazil should pay attention to what I am about to say here, but it will be very difficult to make them see that one thing has something to do with the other.

I will begin by analyzing the review that an unknown author in this country makes of a book by another equally unknown author here.

The book is False Dawn: The United Religions Initiative, Globalism, and the Quest for a One-World Religion by Lee Penn (Sophia Perennis, 2005), which I have recommended many times but few have read because it is a massive volume of long and tedious documents. The reviewer is Charles Upton, author of The System of the Antichrist (ibid., 2001), which was even less read since I recommended it with less emphasis and constancy. The review was published in a more recent book by Upton, Findings: In Metaphysic, Path, and Lore, A Response to the Traditionalist/Perennialist School (ibid., 2010) and reproduced in the publisher’s electronic magazine, http://www.sophiaperennis.com/discussion-forums/sophia-perennis-book-reviews/false-dawn-the-united-religions-initiative-globalism-and-the-quest-for-a-one-world-religion/.

Lee Penn’s book describes and documents, with an abundance of primary sources, the formation and development of a global bionic religion, with all the characteristics of a satanic parody, under the auspices of the UN, the US government, virtually the entire Western mainstream media, and a handful of mega-fortunes. Initiated in 1995 by William Swing, the bishop of the Episcopal Church, under the name United Religions Initiative (URI, see http://www.uri.org), although unofficially it had existed long before (tracing back to the Lucis Trust founded in 1922 by Alice Bailey), the enterprise, supported by incalculably vast financial resources and backed by a whole cast of show business and political stars, even gained the informal support of Pope Francis (see http://remnantnewspaper.com/web/index.php/articles/item/511-pope-francis-and-the-united-religions-initiative).

With the beautiful objective of creating “a world of peace, sustained by engaged and interconnected communities, committed to respect for diversity, nonviolent resolution of conflicts, and social, political, economic, and environmental justice,” the movement gathers, in festive “ecumenical” celebrations, Catholics, Protestants, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Shintoists, animists, spiritists, theosophists, Bahá’ís, Sikhs, New Age followers, Wiccans, Satanists, Reverend Moon’s followers, Hare Krishnas, and any indigenous or UFO cult that presents itself, giving everything a sense of universal brotherhood that dissolves, with mutual condescending smiles, the most obvious and insurmountable incompatibilities between these diverse beliefs.

All the summed-up religions and pseudo-religions, fused and mutually neutralized, thus reduce to an auxiliary instrument of the globalist project aimed at creating a World Government.

Broadly speaking, the ideology that binds these heterogeneous and irreconcilable elements together is the low-brow universalism of the “New Age,” which, poorly copying the language of Hindu tradition, proclaims that all religions are nothing more than local and accidental aspects assumed by a unique Primordial Revelation. From this, it follows that, through one path or another, everyone will eventually reach the highest stages of human or even superhuman spiritual realization.

This ideology had precursors in the 19th century, such as Allan Kardec, Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, the famous theosophist and literal pickpocket, Jules Doinel, founder of the French Gnostic Church (1890), Gerard Encausse, better known as “Papus,” Jean Bricaud, and, in general, all the components of the movement that would later be called “occultist.”

This “universalism,” which in the early 20th century sounded merely like an exotic fantasy, has penetrated so deeply into the common sense of the masses that today the equivalence of all religions in dignity and value is a dogma subscribed to by the entire global mainstream media, parliaments, legislations of almost all countries, and the majority of religious authorities themselves.

Far from being a spontaneous phenomenon, this radical transformation of collective beliefs reflects the incessant work of the ubiquitous agents of the URI, whose interference no socially relevant organization is immune to.

Therefore, it is unnecessary to emphasize the importance of this project within the globalist plans, nor, of course, is it possible to deny the value of Lee Penn’s work in gathering and organizing more than enough documentation to prove the unity of inspiration and strategy behind phenomena that may seem scattered and disconnected to the untrained observer.

The reviewer, Charles Upton, praises the merits of the book and adds an clarification that, he says, he had already personally transmitted to the author, with the author’s full agreement.

The clarification is this: One should not confuse the parodic “universalism” of the New Age and the URI with the high-brow universalism of the so-called “traditionalist” or “perennialist” school inspired by René Guénon, Frithjof Schuon, Ananda K. Coomaraswamy, and their followers.

It is true. They are very different. Long before, the founder of the school, René Guénon, had already subjected the “occultist” ideology, which decades later would become the doctrinal basis — if the term applies — of the New Age and the URI, to devastating critical analysis.

A member and even bishop of the Gnostic Church in his youth, Guénon soon began shooting and took no prisoners. Allan Kardec’s spiritualism, Madame Blavatsky’s theosophy, and a thousand and one other movements, which Guénon saw as the very embodiment of what he called “pseudo-initiation” and “counter-initiation” — the former being the simian imitation of spirituality, the latter its satanic inversion — were left far from intact.

In fact, the contrast between the universalism of the URI and that of the Guénonian-Schuonian current goes far beyond the mere difference between low brow and high brow, although this difference is evident to those who compare them.

On one hand, we see a pastiche of inconsequential syncretisms reinforced by some sentimental or futuristic humanitarian rhetoric (now “progressive,” now “conservative,” to please everyone) and adorned at most, here and there, by the superficial endorsement of some trendy writer, such as Aldous Huxley and Alan Watts.

On the other hand, there are sophisticated intellectual constructions, a profound and organized understanding of the religious and esoteric symbols of all traditions, a complete mastery of revealed sources, and a comparative technique that approaches the precision of an exact science. Additionally, some of the most consistent analyses of the West’s civilizational crisis in its various expressions: cultural, social, artistic, etc.

The difference is evident to any educated reader. In contrast to the syncretistic mishmash of the “New Age,” here we have a universalism in the strong sense of the word, a comprehensive and organizing vision that not only perceives with extreme acuity the commonalities among various spiritual worldviews but also provides the reason and foundation for their diversity. Thus, the articulation of the one and the multiple subordinates, in fact, the entire universal history of ideas and beliefs, theories and practices, in a word: everything that human beings have done and thought in their journey on Earth. There is practically nothing, no phenomenon, no thought, no fortunate or unfortunate event that does not find some efficient and persuasive “perennialist” explanation in some way, when not irrefutably correct.

From the perspective of the common seeker who, coming from revolutionary, modernist, and atheistic circles, is alerted to the importance of “spiritual” topics and, after a temporary illusion with the “New Age,” becomes disillusioned with its superficiality and sets out in search of more nourishing sustenance, the transition to the traditionalism of Guénon and Schuon is a formidable intellectual upgrade, a deculturizing impact, almost an inner transfiguration that suddenly isolates him from the surrounding mental environment, marked at once by the discredit of religions and the endless vulgarity of omnipresent occultism, and leaves him alone, face to face with his own consciousness. Thus, the famous prophecy issued by an anonymous biographer of René Guénon shortly after the master’s death is fulfilled on an individual scale:

"The time will come when each one, alone, deprived of any material contact that can assist him in his inner resistance, will have to find within himself, and only within himself, the means to firmly adhere, through the center of his existence, to the Lord of all Truth."1

Few, very few, reach this point — most stumble along the way — but for the one who arrives, it is difficult to resist the impulse to make personal contact with Guénonian and Schuonian circles in search of relief, support, and guidance. It is through this process of spontaneous selection that the “intellectual elite” is formed, which, as we will see later, Guénon had in mind in the book East and West, published in 1924.

It is evident, therefore, that among the various competing worldviews, the most comprehensive one, which absorbs and explains all others, is at the top. It is the summit of an era’s consciousness, the nec plus ultra of intelligence and intelligibility.

What gives even more authority to the perennialist teaching is the repeated assertion by its exponents that it is not their invention but a mere transposition, in current theoretical language, of immemorial revelations that trace back to a unique primordial source, the Primordial Tradition. This assertion, on the surface, is identical to that of the leaders of the “New Age,” but now it is based on an abundance of documentary evidence, rational arguments, and an organized science of universal symbolism and comparativism, from which intellectually dazzling tours de force emerge, such as René Guénon’s Symboles de la Science Sacrée2 and Whitall N. Perry’s A Treasury of Traditional Wisdom,3 a monumental collection of sacred texts organized in a way that illustrates, beyond any reasonable doubt, the essential convergence of the doctrines and symbols of the great religious and spiritual traditions — the Transcendent Unity of Religions, as Schuon called it in the title of a book that none other than T. S. Eliot considered the greatest achievement of all time in the field of comparative religion.

Any resemblance to the “universalism” of the URI is deceptive.

Firstly, all perennialists, without exception, insist that the doctrines, symbols, and rituals of the various traditions, although always pointing to a supreme Reality that is the same in all cases, have their own integrity and cannot be objects of fusion, mixture, or syncretism. In other words, they cannot undergo the unifying operation that precisely characterizes the “New Age.”

Secondly, not everything that presents itself under the name of religion, spirituality, esotericism, or something similar can enter into this synthesis. On the contrary, it is common to all perennialists to make a precise, rigorous, and even intolerant distinction between Tradition, Pseudo-Tradition, and Counter-Tradition. A significant portion of the material condensed in the “New Age” falls into these last two categories and, far from integrating the unity of the primordial source, represents the parody or negation of everything that comes from it.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the transcendent unity of religions is indeed transcendent, not immanent. The religions are unified only at the top, in the living apex and core of their doctrinal conceptions, and not in the irreducible variety of their liturgies, moral codes, and different “ways” of spiritual realization. And where precisely is this core and apex? It lies in their respective metaphysical conceptions, which are indeed convergent, as Whitall Perry’s simple organized collection alone is enough to demonstrate beyond any possibility of controversy. In this sense, religions and spiritual traditions can be seen, without distortion, as adaptations of the same Primordial Truth to the historical-cultural, linguistic, and psychological conditions of various times, places, and civilizations. The various exoteric manifestations would reflect, in their differences, the unity of the same primordial esotericism. Those who have clearly grasped the unity of this esotericism have intellectually transcended the differences between religions, but, since they are not made of pure intellect and still have a historical-temporal existence as flesh-and-blood individuals, they continue to be entirely faithful to their respective religious traditions, without being able to merge or mix them with any other. The classic example is the great Sufi master Mohieddin Ibn' Arabi. While explicitly affirming that his heart could assume all forms — that of the Hindu Brahmin, the Kabbalistic rabbi, the Christian monk, or any other — he continued, in his life as a real and concrete individual, to be entirely faithful to the strictest Islamic orthodoxy.

But that is where the problems begin.

II

Certainly, this conception requires, alongside the “horizontal” differentiation between various traditions in time and space, a “vertical” or hierarchical distinction between the “lower” and “higher” parts of each tradition. The “lower” or exoteric parts are historically conditioned, causing the traditions to move away from each other to the point of mutual hostility and complete incompatibility. The “higher” or esoteric parts reflect the immutable eternity of Truth, where all traditions converge and meet.

In short, there is a popular religion, consisting of rituals and codes of conduct, which is the same for all members of the community, and an elite religion, only for the “qualified” individuals who can grasp the ultimate “meaning” of revelation behind the symbols and laws. Through the practice of rituals of aggregation that integrate them into the religious tradition and obedience to the norms, the common people obtain the post-mortem “salvation” of their souls. Through initiation rites, the members of the elite obtain, already in life, and far beyond mere “salvation,” the spiritual fulfillment that lifts them from the simple “individual state” of existence to transform them into the Ultimate Reality itself, or God.

It is advisable not to speak too much about these things to the general public, as they may be scandalized by the deciphering of a mystery that should remain opaque for their own spiritual protection. The story of the Sufi Mansur Al-Hallaj (858-922) is well known. After attaining the ultimate “spiritual realization,” he went out shouting “Ana al-Haqq!” (“I am the Truth”) and was beheaded by the exoteric authorities. Al-Haqq does not only mean “the truth” in a generic and abstract sense. It is one of the ninety-nine “Names of God” printed in the Quran, so Al-Hallaj’s statement literally amounted to “I am God.” From the perspective of esoteric orthodoxy, this amounted to denying the Quranic principle of the oneness of God, constituting a crime that had to be punished with death. Later, Islamic jurists admitted that statements uttered by Sufis in a state of “mystical rapture” were beyond the jurisdiction of common justice and should be accepted as indecipherable mysteries.

In an explicit, legal, and official sense, the distinction between exotericism and esotericism only exists within a single tradition: Islam. It corresponds to the distinction between shari’ah and tariqat. On one side, the obligatory religious law for everyone; on the other side, the spiritual “path,” freely chosen, only for interested and qualified individuals. Applying this distinction to all other traditions is merely suggestive or analogical – a figure of speech and not an appropriate descriptive concept. This shakes the entire edifice of “perennialism” to some extent.

Are there exotericism and esotericism in the Hindu tradition, precisely the one from which René Guénon most frequently draws vocabulary, considering Hinduism to have achieved maximum clarity in the exposition of metaphysical doctrine? Clearly not. The caste distinction is something completely different. First, because entry into the higher caste is not a matter of free choice: a person is born a shudra, vaishya, kshatriya, or brahmana and remains so forever. Second, because members of lower castes can accidentally achieve the highest levels of spiritual realization without changing caste. Third, because the rituals of the higher caste, or brahmana, have nothing secret or discreet about them: anyone can know them, they just do not have authorization to practice them.

Does “Christian esotericism” exist? The matter becomes tremendously complex here. There have been and still are, here and there, esoteric organizations that profess to be Christian and transmit initiations through special rites different from the sacraments of the Church. The Companionship, the Fedeli d’Amore, Freemasonry, and the Templar Order are examples. More recently, numerous occultists like Madame Blavatsky, Rudolf Steiner, and Georges Ivanovich Gurdjieff presented their teachings as forms of Christian esotericism.

However, there are certain facts that are sufficient to discredit these claims.

Firstly, there are no traces of any Christian esoteric organization in the first ten centuries of the Church. Secondly, Jesus Christ Himself categorically affirmed: “I have taught nothing in secret.” Even His parables, whose meaning was not immediately evident to everyone, were spoken publicly, not to a reserved circle. How is it then that the core of the Savior’s teaching was kept secret for ten or even twenty centuries?

In contrast, in Islam, the distinction between exotericism and esotericism appeared clearly from the very beginning. When a group of the Prophet’s companions were seen practicing certain strange rituals different from the five daily prayers, the faithful asked him about it. He explained that they were voluntary devotions, meritorious but not obligatory. This was the first sign of the existence of tasawwuf or Islamic Sufism.

Thirdly, and most importantly, the sacraments of the Church are not mere “rituals of aggregation.” They are initiatory in their own right. They provide access not only to the community of believers – or their “egregore” or collective consciousness – but, Deo juvante, to the most intimate knowledge of the Supreme Reality that a human being can aspire to. “It is no longer I who live,” says the Apostle, “but Christ who lives in me.”

In his Catechism, Pope John Paul II explicitly states that the sacraments are the steps of “Christian initiation,” and it is inconceivable that he would use the term as a mere figure of speech in such a formally doctrinal text.

Father Juan González Arintero, in two remarkable books that probably constitute the pinnacle of mystical literature in the twentieth century, abundantly demonstrates with arguments and examples that the way of the sacraments was precisely opened to give everyone, without exception, access to the highest levels of spiritual realization. The distinction between exoterics and esoterics there serves only as a metaphor to designate the different spiritual benefit obtained by one individual or another according to their aptitudes, efforts, and the movements of divine Grace.

Therefore, all Christians who have received the sacraments are initiates in the strict sense that perennialism gives to this word. The difference between the various spiritual results obtained can be explained by a concept developed by René Guénon himself, that of virtual initiation. Not all initiation rites immediately produce the spiritual results that correspond to them. These effects can remain latent for a long time until some external factor – or the evolution of the recipient himself – summons them to full manifestation.

To further complicate matters, F. Schuon himself acknowledged that the Christian sacraments had an initiatory scope. To understand how thorny this issue is for the perennialist school, it is enough to remember that when Schuon expressed his opinion on this matter, Guénon reacted with indignation and fury, even breaking off relations with his disciple and continuator.

Guénon persisted in claiming that the Christian sacraments were merely rituals of aggregation and that authentic initiations only existed in certain secret or discreet organizations, such as the Companionship or Freemasonry. To support this thesis, he invented one of the most artificial historical hypotheses ever seen: Christianity would have initially emerged as an esotericism but, in view of the general decline of the Greco-Roman religion, would have been forced ex post facto to become popular, ending up reduced to exotericism. There is absolutely no evidence that this ever happened. On the contrary, Jesus spoke openly to the crowds from the beginning of His preaching, and the sacraments have not undergone any substantial change in form or content over time. Whatever errors they may have made in other areas, on this point Schuon was correct.

It is also only as a figure of speech that the distinction between exotericism and esotericism – or rituals of aggregation and initiation – can be applied to Judaism since the practitioners of Kabbalistic mysteries there are none other than the very priests of the official worship.

The application of this dual concept to the non-Islamic territory is so inappropriate that members of the perennialist school themselves ended up having to recognize the existence of “exo-esoteric” and even “exoteric” initiations alongside the properly “esoteric” ones. This alone is enough to show that these concepts serve little purpose.

The lack of reasonable arguments and Guénon’s disproportionate reaction to what could have been a discussion among friends suggest that he may have been hiding something in this episode. Unable to speak openly, he resorted to an absurd hypothesis and attempted to silence the interlocutor through a display of authority, which Schuon politely rejected.

Before clarifying this point, another question must be raised.

III

The fact that materially different traditions converge towards the same set of metaphysical principles is something that cannot seriously be called into question anymore. The thesis of the Transcendent Unity of Religions is victorious from every aspect.

However, there is one crucial detail: What is metaphysics exactly? I am not using the term as the name of an academic discipline but in the very special and precise sense it has in the works of Guénon and Schuon. What is metaphysics? It is the structure of the universal reality, descending from the infinite and eternal First Principle to its innumerable reflections in the manifested world through a series of levels or planes of existence.

The fact that metaphysics is essentially the same in all traditions indicates that there is a normal perception of the basic structure of reality common to all human beings from any era or culture.

This perception requires clear consciousness or at least an intuition of the scalar nature of the real, that is, the distinctions between different planes or levels of reality, from the sensible objects of immediate perception to the ultimate Reality, the absolute, eternal, immutable, and infinite Principle, through a series of intermediary degrees: historical, terrestrial, cosmic, angelic, and so on.

Perfect submission of human subjectivity to this structure is implied in all traditions as a conditio sine qua non for religious life and, even more so, for spiritual realization. Its denial, mutilation, or alteration is the root of all errors and aberrations of humanity.

This is why F. Schuon proposes a distinction between essential heresy and accidental heresy. The word “heresy” comes from a Greek root that means “to choose” and “to decide.” A heresiarch is someone who, by their own will, selects from the total truth the parts that interest them and ignores the rest.

Accidental heresy, according to Schuon, is the denial, mutilation, or alteration of the canons of a particular tradition, such as monophysitism in Christianity (the theory that Jesus had only a divine nature, not a human one) or associationalism in Islam (associating God with other beings).

Essential heresy is the denial, mutilation, or alteration of the very structure of reality – an error that would be condemned not only by this or that particular tradition but by all of them. Materialism or relativism, for example.

All this is well and good, but there is a logical problem. If metaphysics is common to all traditions, how can it be the apex and supreme perfection of each of them? By definition, the perfection of a species cannot reside in its genus; it must reside in its specific difference. The perfection of a lion and a flea cannot simply lie in the fact that both are animals.

It is conceivable that, in the initiatic ascent of the individual, the arrival at the Supreme Reality, which elevates them above their individual state and absorbs them into the very Being of divinity, is the culmination of their efforts. It would also correspond, according to perennialism, to the moment when the differences between spiritual traditions are definitively transcended, while still remaining valid for the empirical existence of the initiate on the earthly plane. It is Mohieddin Ibn 'Arabi being a Christian, Zoroastrian, or Jew “on the inside” without ceasing to be orthodoxly Muslim “on the outside.”

However, precisely for this reason, metaphysics can only be the culmination of traditions as such if we accept an indistinction between the order of Being and the order of knowledge, which, as Aristotle taught, are inversely related. The summit of initiatic ascent cannot simultaneously be the culmination of religions because, being common to all of them, it is only the genus to which they belong and not the supreme specific perfection of each.

It would be more reasonable to suppose that the primordial Tradition is the common foundation not only of all spiritual traditions but also of all cultures and ultimately, the core of sound intelligence present in all human beings. From this base or origin, the various traditions develop in different directions, each seeking to reflect the Supreme Principle more perfectly and provide individuals with the means to return to It. In this sense, the culmination of each tradition is not the Principle itself but the success it achieves in the process of return. And there is no reason to assume that all species equally express the perfection of the genus: fleas and lions are equally animals, but that does not mean the flea expresses the perfection of animality as well as the lion, not to mention the human being.

Schuon states that the claim of each religion to be “better” than the others is justified only by the fact that all of them are “legitimate,” meaning they, in their own way, reflect the Primordial Tradition. However, when viewed in the scale of eternity and the absolute, this claim proves to be illusory. Yet, if the perfection of a species cannot reside solely in its genus but in its specific difference, there is no reason to assume that all species equally represent the perfection of the genus. All religions refer to a Primordial Tradition, fine, but do they all equally represent it? This question is entirely legitimate, and nowhere has the perennialist school offered – or attempted to offer – an acceptable answer to it. In fact, it has not even posed the question. Will we find the phenomenon of the “prohibition to ask” even in these lofty spheres, which Eric Voegelin discerned in mass ideologies?

IV

"The generation of the Traditionalist School gathered around Frithjof Schuon – writes Charles Upton – presented and revealed religions in their celestial essences, sub specie æternitatis."9

If the celestial essences of religions are substantially the same, the difference between them is purely terrestrial and contingent, with the particular forms of each having nothing sacred in themselves without the sap they receive from the Primordial Tradition: only this, the Perennial Religion,10 is true in the strict sense. The others are symbols or imperfect appearances in which it manifests in its various earthly incarnations.

But – Upton continues – "these revelations are considered branches of the Primordial Tradition, but this Tradition is not presently operative as a religious system; it is not a religion that can be practiced. The only viable spiritual paths exist in the form – or within – the present living revelations: Hinduism, Zoroastrianism, Buddhism, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam."11

However, these paths only lead to “salvation” in the afterlife. To ascend higher in the present life, it is necessary, without abandoning them, to affiliate oneself with an esoteric organization and practice, in addition to the rites and commandments of popular religion, certain special rites and commandments of an initiatic nature.

In other words, popular religion is a qualification certificate required of the aspirant at the entrance of the initiatic path. For a Muslim, this is not a major problem. Although they have a separate existence, the tariqas (turuq in Arabic) are generally recognized as legitimate by the official religion, so the interested believer can freely transition between the two types of practices.

For a Hindu, it is also not a problem: although there is no proper Hindu esotericism, Hinduism accepts and absorbs all practices of other religions, so – excluding the political conflicts between Hindus and Muslims – nothing prevents a Hindu from joining a tariqa, Freemasonry, a Chinese Triad, or any other esoteric organization without changing their status in their original society.

In the case of a Catholic, however, things become complicated. According to Guénon, all Christian initiatic organizations disappeared after the Middle Ages, leaving poor believers confined to spiritually impoverished exotericism. Only remnants of extinct organizations remained, along with… Freemasonry.

It so happened that a sentence from Pope Clement XII in 1738 automatically excommunicated any Catholic faithful who joined Freemasonry (or any other secret society). The decision was reinforced by Pope Leo X in 1890 and formalized by the Code of Canon Law in 1917. The new Code of Pope John Paul II in 1983 only mentioned “secret societies” without explicitly naming Freemasonry, which briefly gave the impression that the excommunication had been suspended, until the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith clarified in November of that same year that it was not the case, and that the prohibition of joining Freemasonry remained in effect.

In other words, the Catholic faithful who read René Guénon and believed in him, seeing the loss of the initiatic dimension as the root of all the evils of the modern world, were cornered into choosing between completely abandoning esotericism and contenting themselves with an increasingly reduced exotericism focused on external moralism, thereby accepting complicity in modern spiritual degradation, or seeking Masonic initiation and being excommunicated, that is, losing the exoteric affiliation which, according to Guénon himself, was a conditio sine qua non for entering esotericism.

The conflict was not just a legal matter. Although they had their origins in professedly Christian esoteric organizations, Freemasonry had become an overtly and violently anti-Catholic force in many parts of the world, encouraging persecution and killing of Catholics, especially in France (during the Revolution and again in the early 20th century),12 Mexico (which sparked the Cristeros War), and Spain, where, with the thinly veiled complicity of the Masonic Republican government, priests and faithful were killed en masse and many churches destroyed even before the outbreak of the Civil War.

In other words, a Catholic who joined Freemasonry not only incurred automatic excommunication but also became a traitor to their murdered coreligionists.

Catholic Guénonians like Jean Tourniac did their utmost to prove that Masonic doctrines were compatible with Catholicism, but that remained theoretical, of course.13 Conversations between Catholic leaders and Freemasons in search of an agreement led to nothing. The excommunication remained in effect, and the moral risk remained extremely high.

From the 1960s, when these problems began to be openly discussed in traditionalist circles, the perennialist group began to suggest the following possible solutions to the cornered Catholic:

  1. Abandon everything and convert to Islam.
  2. Seek refuge in the Russian Orthodox Church, where there still remains a residue of esotericism, and whose sacraments are ultimately accepted as valid by the Catholic Church.
  3. Join F. Schuon’s multiconfessional tariqa, where one could practice Islamic initiatic rites without formal conversion, while keeping a prudent distance from exoteric Muslims.

The first option was undoubtedly the most traumatic. After all, Schuon himself had written that "changing religion is not like changing countries: it is like changing planets."14

The second option was more comfortable but faced an obstacle that I have never seen any perennialist author even mention: the Russian Orthodox Church was infested with KGB agents, making it almost impossible for a newcomer to navigate through that wild jungle of conspiracies and pretenses. Not coincidentally, the KGB was at that very moment organizing and training Islamic terrorist organizations for the war against the Christian West.15

That left the third option, the easiest and most natural one. Schuon’s tariqa was indeed filled with members of Catholic origin – starting with Schuon himself and some of his closest collaborators, such as Martin Lings, Titus Burckhardt, and Rama P. Coomaraswamy, the first two having converted to Islam, while the third remained Catholic at least publicly, without failing to give the sheikh the required vow of total obedience demanded by the tariqas.16

In the souls of those who remained Catholic – whether by profession or in their hearts alone – Guénon’s plan for the entire West had been realized on a microscopic scale since 1924.

V

After describing with the somber colors of a genuine Apocalypse the spiritual degradation of Western civilization, attributing it to the loss of “true metaphysics” and the connections between the Catholic Church and the Primordial Tradition (connections that could only have been maintained through initiatic organizations),17 René Guénon envisions three possible developments of the state of affairs in the West:18

  1. A definitive fall into barbarism.
  2. The restoration of the Catholic tradition under the discreet guidance of Islamic spiritual masters.
  3. Total Islamization, either through infiltration and propaganda or through military occupation.

These three options ultimately reduced to two: either a plunge into barbarism or submission to Islam, be it discreet or overt.

The outbreak of World War II seemed to show that the West had chosen the first option, with the ironic detail that important Islamic religious authorities fully supported the Führer, especially in the matter of the extermination of Jews.19 Macabre coincidence or self-fulfilling prophecy? I do not know.

After the war, the close collaboration between Islamic governments and communist regimes in their joint anti-Western efforts became so notorious that there is no need to insist on this point. It is worth noting that today, the global left dedicated to corrupting the West “until it stinks,” as André Breton advocated, is the same one that overtly supports the Islamic occupation of the West through mass immigration, while using all means to boycott any serious effort to combat Islamic terrorism, thus establishing a Leninist agreement between the two blocks to “foster corruption and denounce it.” The same question as in the previous paragraph applies here, with the same answer.

For the aspiring individual of Catholic origin, all that the tariqa offered was the choice between becoming a Muslim or being Catholic under Islamic guidance. The same choice that Guénon offered to the entire Western world.

I believe that this clarifies Guénon’s intention in squeezing all religions, especially Christianity, into the forced mold of an Islamic descriptive concept, the exoteric-esoteric distinction. In fact, how can one dominate an entire civilization without first fitting it into the intellectual coordinates system of the dominant civilization, where it ceases to be an autonomous whole and becomes part of a comprehensive map? It is also obvious that it was not enough to do this in theory: it was necessary to conquer the most valuable and intellectually active elements of the target civilization’s elite for this new vision of things. Only when the target civilization begins to understand itself in the terms of the dominator, rather than in its own terms, is it ripe to accept, without significant resistance, a broader cultural occupation. Moreover, reducing Christianity to the exoteric-esoteric dichotomy, coupled with the bleak diagnosis of the loss of the esoteric dimension, inevitably led to the conclusion that the “restoration of Christendom,” its connections with the Primordial Tradition, and therefore the highest dimensions of its spirituality, could only be achieved under the guidance of a “living esotericism,” that is, Sufism. Using Guénon’s own terms, it was necessary to subject the West to the “spiritual authority” of Islam before subjecting it to its “temporal power.”

Schuon’s theory that the Christian sacraments preserved their initiatic power seemed to somewhat weaken the force of the Islamizing argument, but in reality, it did not do so at all. Without proper spiritual instruction, which only a “living esotericism” could offer, the recipient of a “virtual initiation” remained unaware of having received it and not only became paralyzed in the midst of the initiatic ascent but also risked suffering all kinds of spiritual and psychic disorders as a result. Only Sufi spirituality – embodied in this case in the person of F. Schuon – could save Catholics from themselves.

The Islamization of the West – whether discreet or overt, peaceful or violent – is the central and, in fact, the sole objective of René Guénon’s entire work. Everything converges towards this goal, not as a mere logical conclusion, but as a kind of single exit to which the reader – and ideally, the entire West – is led, through the walls of a labyrinthine construction, by a sense of inexorable fate. Without this objective, Guénon’s work would be nothing more than a set of theoretical speculations without purpose, a structure of beautiful yet unrealizable spiritual possibilities, which he always denied it could be.

If an explicit confession were necessary to confirm this, it is enough to recall that just as F. Schuon returned from Algeria with the title of sheikh, boasting his intention to “Islamize Europe” (sic), Guénon declared that the foundation of Schuon’s tariqa in Lausanne, Switzerland, was the first and only fruit produced by his decades-long effort.

VI

What can make this objective hazy or even invisible to the eyes of the public are two factors:

First: Guénon repeatedly asserts his total disregard for any political activity, movement, or ideology, ensuring that his interests have nothing to do with the struggle for power and are exclusively focused on the spiritual and eternal sphere. This seems to place him, in the eyes of many, incomparably above the current dispute between Islamic countries and the West.

This perspective is not entirely false; it is just empty. It is obvious that Guénon is not vying for political power. He is striving for something that is infinitely above that and, as he explains himself, political power is nothing more than a secondary and almost negligible reflection of it: he is striving for spiritual authority. He is competing with the Catholic Church, positioning himself far above it and aiming to guide it from the sublime heights of Sufi spirituality (not necessarily in person, of course).

He is very explicit about this point. According to him, at some point in its history, the Catholic Church lost contact with the Primordial Tradition and no longer even has an understanding of the “higher” realms of metaphysics; it remains stuck in pure ontology or the theory of Being, without delving into the supreme mysteries of Non-Being (Schuon prefers to say “Supra-Being”).

I have already explained on other occasions what seems to me to be the intrinsic absurdity of the doctrine of Non-Being, and I will not delve into that subject here. What matters at the moment is to emphasize that, according to Guénon, Catholicism, starting from this initial mutilation, has steadily declined to the point where it has been reduced to mere sentimental devotion for the masses.

Since only those who still possess the original connection with the Primordial Tradition can lift it out of this abyss, it is evident that the salvation of the Church and, through it, the salvation of the entire West can only come from outside. But from where exactly?

It cannot come from Buddhism, as Guénon does not even consider it a fully valid tradition.

Nor can it come from Hinduism because it cannot be practiced outside of India or by those who are not of Indian nationality. All that Hinduism can provide is a deeper understanding of metaphysical doctrine—and indeed, Guénon extensively refers to Hindu texts for this purpose—but mere theoretical understanding, while indispensable, cannot by itself provide authentic “metaphysical realization.”

Even less so from Judaism, as it would be inconceivable for the Church, having originated from Judaism, to return to the maternal womb without ipso facto nullifying itself and ceasing to exist.

What about Freemasonry? Impossible, not only due to the aforementioned incompatibilities that have never been overcome but also because, according to Guénon, Masonic initiations only pertain to the “Lesser Mysteries,” the secrets of the cosmos and society that do not even come close to touching the heights of supreme metaphysical realization, the “Greater Mysteries.”

From obstacle to obstacle—we need not examine all the alternatives—the inexorable conclusion is that the labyrinth of impossibilities has only one way out: Catholicism can only be restored to its original integrity if it consents to submit to the guidance of Islamic masters. Either that, or the occupation of the West by Muslims. Tertium non datur.

It should be noted, in passing, that Guénon and his followers have made several valuable contributions, even to the understanding of Catholicism by Catholic intellectuals, especially regarding symbolism and sacred art. This is something that no one in their right mind could deny.

But again, there is nothing strange about that. What authority could a Sufi master claim to exercise over Catholics if he did not prove, at least in select areas, that he understands their religion better than they do themselves?

Guénon’s “Catholic” articles published in the journal Regnabit between 1925 and 1927 do not prove, nor even suggest, that he had accepted the independence, let alone the superiority, of Catholicism over Islam. They merely demonstrate that, during that period, he still believed in the possibility of directing the course of things within the Catholic Church through gentle persuasion and infiltration. His departure for Egypt in 1930, with the firm decision not to return and to communicate with his public solely through the journal Études Traditionelles, marked the moment when he lost that hope and became increasingly integrated into Egyptian esoteric circles (even marrying the daughter of the prestigious sheikh Elish El-Kebir). He passed the ball back to the Islamic authorities who had long guided his actions in the European context. How things evolved from that point to the adoption of the policy of terrorism and “occupation through immigration” (which, of course, would never happen without the approval of Islamic spiritual authorities) is a story that we are unaware of and that can only be told, perhaps, several decades from now. What is absolutely certain is that, since the beginning of his public activity, Guénon declared that he did not speak in his own name but strictly followed the guidance of “qualified representatives of Eastern traditions,” among whom, we now know, Sheikh El-Kebir was the most prominent. It is a colossal nonsense to say that Guénon “converted to Islam” in 1930. He had been a regular member of a tariqa since at least the age of twenty-one, which is sufficient to show that he had been long prepared for the immensely difficult mission he was going to undertake.

VII

The second factor that hampers the perception of Guénon’s identity as an Islamic agent is the impact of his work on his disciples. Described as “the most dazzling intellectual miracle of our time,” his work sheds unexpected light on religious phenomena and the spiritual decline of the West. Its stark contrast with all modern atheistic or Christian thought makes it almost irresistible to consider it a miracle, a divine intervention in the course of History. Seyyed Hossein Nasr, in “Knowledge and the Sacred,” does not hesitate to present the entire intellectual history of the West as a long, groping, and semi-blind preparation for the advent of Guénon’s enlightenment. Seen in this way, Guénon’s work appears as a supra-historical message from the dawn of time, from the Primordial Tradition itself rather than from a contemporary Egyptian sheikh.

The desire to erase its contemporary roots and to hover above historical contingencies is evident in various passages of his work and is further reinforced by several expressions of contempt for “mere” historical perspective, which Guénon considers an illusory veil of passing appearances that obscures the reality of eternal things. He goes so far as to criticize the Western mentality’s attachment to “facts” as if it were a thinking vice.

Jean Robin, characteristically, proclaims Guénonism as a providential intervention and “the West’s last chance.” It is an inalienable right of the enthusiastic disciple to celebrate the master’s work with the most emphatic qualifiers. But a qualifier means nothing when separated from the substance it qualifies. It is one thing to speak in general terms of the “last chance of the West”—and we all know that the West is in need of one. But it is entirely different to clarify that it is not just any chance, not some abstract and generic “restoration of spirituality,” but salvation through Islamization. Jean Robin simply omits this point.

It is also quite fair to prioritize the eternal and immutable above the temporal and transient. However, any intelligent Christian, whether Catholic or not, who is accustomed to the sacrament of confession, understands that leaping into the eternal without passing through an awareness of the factual details of earthly life, often humiliating and depressing, is not spirituality but angelism. The apostle who declares, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me,” is the same one who confesses to carrying “a thorn in the flesh” until the end of his days.

The desire to fly into the world of eternal archetypes by bypassing concrete historical reality is not only found in hagiographic profiles of the “mission of René Guénon” but also in at least three books by important perennialist authors about Islam.

“Ideals and Realities of Islam” by Seyyed Hossein Nasr, “Comprendre l’Islam” by Frithjof Schuon, and “Moorish Culture in Spain” by Titus Burckhardt barely conceal their rhetorical strategy of presenting Muslim life only through the eternal archetypes it symbolizes, implicitly or explicitly contrasting them with the raw factual miseries of materialistic West. This approach can even be somewhat naive. Even a child can perceive that it is not fair to compare the virtues of one with the defects of the other, rather than virtues with virtues and defects with defects.

All of this makes it difficult for both newly arrived readers and sometimes even for the spokespeople of perennialism to admit the obvious: René Guénon’s work may possess all the providential and salvific qualities one desires, provided that the obvious is clearly acknowledged—that, in the end, it has never offered any other path of salvation for the West except Islamization.

It is also true that any intelligent Christian, whether Catholic or not, can benefit from René Guénon’s teachings without adhering to the Guénonian project. But how can one refuse adherence without knowing or wanting to know that the project exists? Every useful idiot is an idiot and useful only to the extent that they deny the existence of the one who employs them.

Many Christians, whether Catholic or not, have been so outraged by René Guénon’s teachings that they have made various attempts to refute and even ridicule him. These attempts only served to demonstrate the intellectual superiority of the adversary and fell into ridicule or oblivion.

In this regard, Guénon’s disciples were not entirely wrong in considering him insurmountable (Michel Valsân called him the “infallible compass”). But Guénon does not need to be fought or defeated. By adopting the pseudonym “Sphinx” in his early writings, he knew that those who did not decipher his message would be swallowed up and reduced to obedience. Those who struggle and revolt while refusing to obey, reluctantly or even unconsciously, are useful idiots. Once deciphered, however, the Sphinx has no choice but to gently release its prey, which will emerge not only free but strengthened.

Petersburg, VA, July 2, 2016

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