Julius Evola from the perspective of a Catholic Traditionalist. P.1 (2024)

Elias de Tejada (1929-1994) was a Spanish professor, philosopher, and jurist aligned with Carlist principles.

0. Translator's Note

This article originally appeared in the Evolian journal Arthos under the title “Julius Evola alla luce del Tradizionalismo Ispánico” (1974) by Francisco Elías de Tejada. It was tailored for an Italian audience and takes an expository approach, engaging in a polemic that contrasts Hispanic-rooted Catholic Traditionalism (Carlism) with Evolian paganism.

The first part of the article aims to clarify what Carlism entails, in contrast to the perspective of Gabriele Fergola, a Neapolitan Hispanist who identifies strictly conservative figures such as Donoso Cortés and Jaime Balmes within Hispanic Traditionalism.

Such a common misconception gets addressed here, which is prevalent among contemporary Catholic thinkers (I won’t name names), whose familiarity with Hispanic thought often extends only indirectly through the lens of Carl Schmitt. A limited exposure, particularly among American Catholics, which overlooks the influence of Orestes Brownson (one of their own) who, long before Schmitt, introduced figures like Donoso Cortés to the small Catholic intellectual circles in the United States. (And Brownson's interpretation is closer to the historical Donoso than Schmitt’s).

The second part presents an intellectual biography of Evola that is entirely laudatory. It proceeds then to compare Catholic Traditionalism (metonymically representing Carlism) with Evola, focusing first on their commonalities.

Some may be surprised by the admiration expressed by a Traditionalist Catholic like De Tejada for Evola. However, this affinity can be contextualized by the collaboration between pagan and Catholic traditionalist groups in post-war Italy, united against a common enemy: communists. The discussion of their differences will unfold in parts 2 and 3 of this translation.

Since the emphasis of this article is to shed light on the debates between Catholics and pagans, it still holds a certain relevance despite its original publication in the 1970s, especially for those interested in Traditionalism beyond mere name-dropping, whether they be Catholic or pagan.

1. Remarks regarding Hispanic Traditionalism

Since 1968, Julius Evola, after too many years of undeserved silence surrounding his person and works, begins to emerge as a prominent figure in the world of knowledge, particularly within the sphere of "Traditionalism." From the fourth decade of our century onward, he represents a specific Italian ideological movement that took root no more than forty years ago, with a focus on magic while championing the concept of Tradition. While this novelty was recently introduced by him in Italy, in Hispanic lands, it constitutes the raison d'être and the driving force for many thousands of men who, in the service of Tradition, engaged in battles with both arms and letters on the fields of the militia and thought. Notably, this includes the Spanish Carlists.

Therefore, I believe it is not a futile endeavor for me, as a Hispanic Carlist (and hence an authentic traditionalist), to delve into the grand figure of Julius Evola with all the respect that his superb exceptional character deserves. However, I will not shy away from critically analyzing aspects of his work while also acknowledging and honoring those deserving of praise in his oeuvre.

It is then a modest source of pride, stemming from the doctrinal purity of my fervent militant Carlism, to be the sole Spanish scholar who has taken notice of Evola's torrential personality, as emphasized by Gabriele Fergola1 in his study "Evola e il tradizionalismo spagnolo." In the prologue to "La Tradizione italiana" featured in the Tuscan edition of my work, "La Monarchia tradizionale," I acknowledged the value of what I termed the "portentous Evolian construction" and bestowed upon him the title of "grand maestro." However, I did so with the prerequisite clarification of the reservations that his works deserve in the eyes of an authentic Hispanic traditionalist, such as all Carlists are.

My meticulous engagement with Italian culture, a care truly uncommon in our century, along with the perspective errors that, even among the most erudite, characterize the current Hispanic circ*mstance from the viewpoint of foreign observers, compelled me to see clearly what is often overlooked from Italian lands. The fact that many whom Gabriele Fergola characterizes as authentic traditionalists are not truly so. Although it may seem that, on certain occasions, they operate under the umbrella of this sacred word, it is imprecise to shelter them beneath it.

Therefore, when approaching Evola from the perspective of Spanish Traditionalism, it is imperative to commence by rejecting the vision proposed by Fergola in his commendable and previously cited work. According to Fergola, hispanic traditionalists include figures such as Juan Donoso Cortés, Jaime Balmes, Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, Ramiro de Maeztu, and, among the living, Vicente Marrero Suárez. However, Fergola's list exclusively features Juan Vázquez de Mella, omitting significant figures like Magín Ferrer, Gabino Tejado, the two Nocedal’s, Antonio Aparisi y Guijarro, or Enrique Gil y Roble. Among the living, names such as Francisco Puy Muñoz, Rafael Gambra, Manuel Fernández Escalante, Wladimiro Lamsdorf-Galagane, Antonio Peréz Luño, José Iturmendi, or Joaquín García de la Concha are conspicuously absent, reducing an otherwise extensive list to a few names.2

The inclusion of Jaime Balmes3 as a traditionalist is contested since, in reality, he anticipates the era of slavishly Vaticanist Christian democracy that we unfortunately endure today. Juan Donoso Cortés4, on the other hand, was never a theoretician of Tradition but rather focused on commissarial dictatorships, palliative remedies to evade crises, and never integral parts of the healthy and serene Tradition. Menéndez y Pelayo5, while uncovering traditionalist texts in literature, does so without intentions of considering them from a political lens. Ramiro de Maeztu6 approaches Traditionalism from Anglo-Saxon paths, overlooking the value of legitimacy—an inescapable sign for defining authentic Tradition.

As for Vicente Marrero7, an old and dear friend, despite our close ties, he adheres to criteria that deviate from the authentic dimension of Spanish Tradition. In Spain, there is no more than one single Traditionalism, Carlism, with its battles and thinkers spanning the last two centuries. Presenting the panorama of Spanish traditionalists as Fergola does creates confusion among Italian readers—a confusion that must be clarified before delving into the analysis of Julius Evola from the viewpoint of Spanish Traditionalism.

Due to Carlism being our sole true Tradition, it is truly surprising how Fergola made such mistakes, despite acknowledging and asserting that "The stream of Spanish Traditionalism is diverse," with reference to Evola's position. This diversity is attributed to the sustenance of roots based on a Tradition that remains operative and alive, particularly in regions like Navarre. In a sense, one could argue that Evola has not been translated into Spanish because we Spaniards had no need for him. There was "no void to fill up, neither historically nor, above all, culturally."

If there was no void to fill, it is solely because Carlism occupied that space. Neither Balmes, nor Donoso, nor Menéndez y Pelayo, nor Maeztu, nor Marrero managed to fill it. They failed to comprehend what Fergola regards as the essence of Tradition, such as the significance of the "Fueros," and lacked a connection with the legitimate dynasty that, from Charles V to Alphonso Charles I, defended local liberties against the abstract liberty of the revolution. In Spain, if Traditionalism constitutes a comprehensive school and if traditionalist ideas are deemed "concrete and historically operative," it is entirely attributable to Carlism—not the liberal dictatorial petit generals fleetingly praised by Donoso, nor the belated and absurd guelfism of Jaime Balmes, nor the remedial approach of "L'Action française," represented in the Spanish Action of Ramiro de Maeztu.

To emphasize this point, when a Carlist aligns with the usurper dynasty spanning from the so-called Isabella II to the so-called Alphonso XIII, they cease to be a traditionalist. Examples include Alejandro Pidal8 at the turn of the 19th century or bourgeois capitalists in the mold of merchants like Antonio Oriol9 in contemporary times, who joined a political party—the conservative party—contrary to the principles of the Spanish Tradition, which rejects such affiliations. This act results in the legal rupture of Catholic unity, the fundamental norm of Hispanic Tradition.

These rectifications are indispensable for the reader to grasp the criteria employed in approaching the figure of Julius Evola in the current study. Another clarification is warranted concerning Gabriele Fergola's error: the attribution of a "Catholic orientation, if not even guelph," to me and, by extension, to the Carlism that I ideologically represent here.

Carlists derive their raison d'être by serving as standard-bearers for the continuity of Philip II, Trent, and the Counter-Reformation. The last roots of our ideas are embedded in this legacy, which we uphold with knight-like loyalty. The legitimate kings who protected Tradition in the 19th century hold greater value insofar as they continue the legacy of the Kings of the golden Spains10, who were more papist than the pope when defending Christendom became necessary against the errors of the popes. Our Catholic models are exemplified by the king of Naples and Emperor Charles V imprisoning Pope Clement in Sant' Angelo, or the Sardinian King Philip II imprisoning bishops in Naples—both actions in the service of God even when the popes acted politically against the interests of the universal reign of Christ. When it comes to holding popes accountable politically, none can rival our common kings of the two peninsulas.

It is crucial to emphasize that we are Catholics, not Vaticanists. This radical distinction delineates our Catholicism from that of the new Guelphs in present Christian democracies.

After these precisions, the reader is going to determine if we understand or not the great oeuvre of Julius Evola.

2. A Kshatriya of the West

Julius Evola transcends his era and peers. Born on May 19, 1898, he now experiences immortality. He has cast aside the elements that weave the existential fabric of ordinary individuals: university titles, family, and the gratification derived from others' intellectual esteem. When Gaspare Cannizo informed him of Enrico Crispolti's11 exploration of his figure in "Il mito della macchina ed altri temi del futurismo," he remained indifferent to the homage directed at him. Living in solitude under his "baron" status, he remained above the passions and judgments of his contemporaries—an "irreducible aristocrat," as described by Sigfrido Bartolini, following the tradition of the aristocrats of spirit.

Giovanni Volpe and Adriano Romualdi attest that Evola harbored no interest in acquiring or rejecting disciples, nor did he aspire to lead a school. His robust moral discipline positioned him beyond the reach of flattery, while he remained impervious to scorn. He traversed his earthly life with the unparalleled serenity of the silent mountains, untouched by the footsteps of the living. He embodied nobility in flesh and bones.

Hence, any evaluation should be directed towards his ideas and work, never towards his person. Whether met with criticism or praise, such assessments would leave him unaltered, encapsulated in the granitic solitude he willingly imposed on his existence. Julius Evola, the man, was an enigma—perhaps saint-like, certainly sacred-like. He possessed an immense sacredness reminiscent of how religious societies adorn superior beings, those individuals who transcend humanity, embodying the majestic exceptionality of incomprehensible figures.

Julius Evola stands above the commonplace, the ordinary, and the mundane clashes of everyday life. He sheltered himself behind his books with the deliberate intention of dissipating his personality within the framework of his ideas. This approach served to keep his person alluringly shielded by the veil of mystery—a mystery that has always been the hallmark of the sacred.

Yet, employing comparisons that resonated with him, Julius Evola's spirit does not align with that of the divine Brahman—the twin companion of the gods in the experience of divinity manifested in flesh and blood. His temperament leaned more towards the action of the kshatriya than the karmic incarnation of the divine. His own karma follows the "karma-marga," literally the path of works. Whatever he achieved—and the full extent of Evola's achievements may forever remain unknown—was through the path of the kshatriya-karma, where nothing was granted without concerted effort.

Boris de Rachewiltz's judgment in "Uno kshatriya nell´Etá del Lupe" is not entirely accurate when attributing Evola's kshatriya condition to the rigorous superiority of his blunt indifference. Rachewiltz asserts that Evola "revives his nature of kshatriya, who ignores all compromise, as well as his total indifference to the confrontation of any human judgment". When Evola self-identifies as a kshatriya in his intellectual autobiography, "Il cammino del cinabro," he takes care to emphasize that this does not make him a brahman:

"The second disposition could be called - to use a Hindu term - of kshatriya. This word in India designates a type of human inclined to action and affirmation, 'warrior' in the strict sense, opposed to the religious, priestly, or contemplative nature of the brahman. This has also been my orientation, although it has only been specified in the right way little by little".

It is action, not contemplation, that defines Julius Evola. His disdain for others is not an attachment to the stillness of the divine but rather a fervent and active impulse toward the divine. His impassivity towards others is a vibrant tremor of activity within himself. In "Il cammino del cinabro," he acknowledges his personal kshatriya disposition, stating that it impelled him to do what needed to be done without being determined by the idea of success or failure. Further on, he warns that, as a kshatriya, he was driven to act in a way "to assert himself in the domain of action".

Julius Evola acts with the intention of leaving a lasting impact on others, even though he remains indifferent to the results of his work. He is not the contemplative figure absorbed in the ecstasy of divine contemplation; rather, he is the soldier fighting the battle of the sacred in a desacralized world. He consistently engages in the fight, even if, in his splendid isolation, it might appear that he has no interest in projecting his message. Yet, he was born to be the bearer of this message.

In yogic terms, one might describe Julius Evola as a "siddha," surpassing both gods and men; or at the very least, a "vira," in the sense that this term holds in left-hand tantrism—representing the kshatriya marked by boldness, audacity, and unwavering superiority. It is in this context that he must be characterized. Otherwise, Julius Evola's personality remains perplexing. And when studying the works of a figure, the first step is to unravel the true nature of the subject at hand.

The truth is, Evola doesn't merely look down on the world; he aspires to dominate it. Perhaps the most revealing depiction of him is found in some of his symbolic verses, embedded in the sexual symbolism of the Indian East—a realm from which he derived the fundamental guidelines for his action, thought, and life. In all his endeavors, the work of Julius Evola is driven by a quest to dominate the world, not for mere control but to transcend it.

In the poem titled Astrid, Evola transcends mere contemplation of the feminine as inert beauty. Instead, in a tantric fashion, he elevates it to a sacred level through the possession of Astrid. In that moment, Astrid becomes the embodiment of the sublimation of the entire and eternal feminine. In the sacramental act of possessing the woman against the backdrop of the black and yellow horizon of the confused city, Julius Evola encompasses the entirety of his being:

Vous aviez arrêté votre voitureque à l'intérieur l'ovateétouffante du santal grisaitdans une banlieue morne sous une pluie lenteles chariots de charbon passaientle brouillard confondait les distanceset les solitudes etles mélancolies en un rythme jaunâtre.Et vous aviez brisé le sortilègeVotre regard ambigutourbillonla transparence vertigineuse de vos basl´écume des dentellesvos jambes qui s´écartaientlumineusem*ntl´idole renversé et ouvertmon être abîmé en vousenglué dans une obscurité ardentesans finvotre cri brefdilatation vertdissolution.Étiez-vous Astrid?Astrid au front haut blancsceau de domination qui se découpesur l'énorme villenoire et bassesur la grande plaque du zinc du ciel.”

These verses12, composed during his youth, do not reflect unchecked and unrestrained desire as described in yoga, known as "raga-klesha." Instead, they embody the concept of "maithuna" in accordance with the superior condition of the "vira." It represents the universal sacralization of things, a perspective accessible only to the initiated. The peculiarities of Evola's extraordinary behavior, his calmness, and detachment in the eyes of the general public are encapsulated in the juvenile poem to Astrid.

Here, despite being a product of the twentieth century, Julius Evola aligns himself with the race that, in its origins, possessed a transcendent spirituality and was considered on a similar plane to that of the gods—an idea he explores in "Il mistero del santo Graal". This is why he can observe contemporary society from an elevated perspective, contemplating its present cycle at the moment of its final dissolution. Consequently, he formulates a salvific belief that, once the current cycle concludes, the eternal forces of "Shakti" or the creative energy of the universe will facilitate the transition to the next cosmic cycle through these superior individuals. This is how Julius Evola perceives himself, or believes himself to be.

3. Commonalities

From these sacred summits, Evola constructs his metaphysics, as he phrases it, or, in my interpretation, develops his philosophy of history. This theme is central to his work, "Rivolta contro il mondo moderno," developed based on the doctrine of the four ages. Evola commences with a period of the gods, one that is more metaphysical than historical. In this era, superhuman beings incarnated a reality where life and the transcendent fused seamlessly. During this time, a code of norms, a system of political power, and a body of knowledge—what Evola terms Tradition—were established.

It transcends the concept of prehistory as defined by historians and is not akin to the way of life of contemporary primitive people. This marvelous society exists in a qualitative time and space that is more metahistorical than prehistorical or proto-historical. It cannot be equated with the life or mentality of under-civilized peoples today, as what these groups practice represents degradations of superior forms rather than pre-civilized ways of existence.

From the heights of this perfect society, Evola crafts a critique of our contemporary world with unparalleled sharpness, displaying insights that warrant the most fervent applause. According to Evola, we find ourselves in the fourth stage of decadence. Following the ages of gold, silver, and steel, we now inhabit the age of the wolf from Norse sagas, the dark age or "kali-yuga" of Hindu tradition, the age of iron from Iranian teachings, and the age of clay prophesied in Daniel. The metaphysical time of the gods has given way to the stages of priests and heroes, culminating in the era of merchants with the triumphant "Tiers état" in 1789, and the era of proletarians with communism in 1917. The sudra caste is poised to succeed the vaishya, once the kshatriyas and brahmins are overthrown.

In his book titled "Cavalcare la tigre," Evola deeply analyzes each factor that has eroded ancient values and traditions. While this is not the occasion to reiterate his masterful critiques, his exemplary linking of concepts, or his sharp refutation of the themes of progressivism, liberalism, and democracy, it is essential to underscore the profound insights he provides on the crisis of the family, the desacralization of thrones, the progressive desacralization of the universe, the insecure falsity of mathematized science, the materialist primacy in the economic sphere, and the shortcomings of rulers who could have embraced traditionalism but failed to do so. In this critical field, it is necessary to align with Evola's perspectives, and if any objections arise from the ideological tendencies of Hispanic Traditionalism, they should only serve to emphasize some of his points even more strongly.

The agreement in the critique is so profound that I cannot resist sharing Evola's criticisms of fascist cultural politics. This allows Spanish readers to see a portrayal of our situation and to understand how it has been possible for Franco to lose the intellectual war despite winning the battle of arms. What Evola writes about Benito Mussolini in the thirties applies literally to the Spain born - and culturally aborted - on July 18. Furthermore, in the field of culture, the so-called "revolution" was a farce. To represent "fascist culture," it was essential to be a member of the party and pay formal, conformist homage to the Duce. The rest was inconsequential. Instead of starting anew, not respecting the established honor and reputation, and subjecting everything to a radical revision, fascism had the provincial and "parvenu" ambition of attracting the "exponents of existing bourgeois culture," as long as they paid the tribute of formal and irrelevant adherence to the regime.

Thus, there was the desolate spectacle of an academy of Italy whose members were largely agnostic or anti-fascist in their internal orientation. This was true even for many meritorious individuals, institutions of fascist culture, and major publications. Therefore, it is unsurprising to find not a few of these gentlemen who switched allegiances in the democratic and anti-fascist Italy of the second post-war period.

Beyond the inevitable doctrinal discrepancies arising from the distinct starting points of Evola on one hand and us, the Hispanic Traditionalists, on the other, there is complete agreement with Evola in the repudiation of the modern world. Our gratitude is perennial for his profound and accurate study. In this dark horizon of intellectual betrayals, prevalent in Italy and Spain, Evola stands as the noble knight who fights shoulder to shoulder in the monumental task of preventing the nefarious consequences of bourgeois wickedness and the degenerated cowardice that today symbolize the decayed West.

After having expressed these very high praises for the figure of Evola, an intellectual leader despite his disdain for such a role, it is now time to highlight the divergences. This is done with the hope that they will serve as the foundation for initiating a fruitful dialogue among his disciples—an initial step toward joint action for those determined in the fight against the obscure diabolical forces that are eroding the traditional meaning of existence, primarily within the Catholic Church and secondarily in the countries of the West. I write these lines with the intention of fostering unity in action. Therefore, the following remarks are only meaningful to the extent that they contribute to a clarification of positions, enabling each one of us to engage in dialogue from a clear standpoint—a dialogue that leads to the brotherhood my heart earnestly desires with all the strength I can muster.