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Paganism Without Swords?

Detail from Jacques-Louis David’s “Oath of the Horatii,” 1784

3,600 words

“When swords ran every which way like red-stained snakes, our fathers warmed to life; the sun of all peace seemed limp and lackluster to them, but the long peace caused them shame. How they sighed, our fathers, when they saw gleaming bright, dried up swords on the wall! Like them, they thirsted for war. For a sword wants to drink blood and sparkles with desire.” — Friedrich Nietzsche [1]

In early June, a completely bourgeois decision almost forced me to skip Atlanta’s greatest annual event: the Blade Show and International Cutlery Fair (Blade). While I had no money with which to buy a new close-range killing machine, I also had no will power against spending money I don’t have on a new, shiny, razor-sharp, 11-inch embodiment of everything still right with Western culture.

While politically I am anti-bourgeois to the point of malice, I am a 40-something American product of divorce and a “shopping mall as palliative” middle class upbringing. My pouvoir (affected, disciplined, or territorialized essential energy), therefore, is, in a word, bourgeois. But this is the war I have been fighting since I began reading Nietzsche without professorial supervision.

While I had no money, I did have two good (that is, noble) reasons to pay a visit to Blade. One, I have friends that display their artisanal knives at the show, whom I only see at the event; and two, attendance has become a tradition for me and my father. In the end, the noble “why” defeated the bourgeois “how,” and so for a third straight year I attended the world’s largest gathering of artisan (and corporate) knife and sword makers.

Although I go to Blade to add to my armory, the true joy in attending is in being surrounded by so many people that have devoted their puissance (life’s essential energy) to perfecting a skill. (I wouldn’t even buy a steak knife from the industrial complex, so I completely ignore the shiny — or toughly matted — stabby and cutty things that the corporations, with their slick multimedia presentations and “hot chicks with hand grenades,” so seductively display.)

These artisans not only afford themselves the opportunity to “live off their passion” (in the vulgar American sense), but also to keep alive a tradition that played a significant role in the ascension of Western culture. For it is not only about making killing and cutting machines that these knife makers work, but also a “will to precision” that has, for practical purposes, been otherwise — Swiss watchmaking aside — extinguished in modern man. Athena’s respect for human precision is perfectly embodied in how this (perhaps last) generation of craftsmen suffers for mastery of eye, hand, and steel.[2]

My father first took me to Blade three years ago. He’s a knife collector, seeking out the finest etching, stag or desert ironwood scales, and general artistry that he can find. There is plenty of each of them at Blade. I am a military guy when it comes to arms, yet — Nietzschean that I am — I disdain utilitarianism. Thus I seek a balance between simplicity, functionality, and art. I seek neither utility nor art but instead pure quality — something made by hand, full of the “pride, . . . individual goodness, and faultiness” of the artisan, even if made with materials coveted by machines.[3] I love details, but want them more in skill, ingenuity, and durability than in aesthetics. My father is perfectly modern and quintessentially American, though, so the gulf between us is already apparent.

Unless I am inspired by something exceptional, I have narrowed my knife buying down to two artisans: Lucas Burnley of Burnley Knives and James Harrison of Seamus Knives, both of whom make knives that are more badass than beautiful. Lucas and James are as seemingly removed from each other as two people could be. Yet they are united by their craft.

In fact, the contrasts between the two make knowable the spirit of the guild — the pre-capitalist European system of organizing economic and cultural participation by uniting all producers of a certain type into a collective body that protected its interests and passed on the knowledge, wisdom, and skills needed to maintain quality and production. For while Lucas is a 20-something with tattoos, piercings, and a will to spend his time heli-boarding, shooting automatic weapons, and exploring the Southwest desert on motorcycle, James is a kindly 50-something father of two who spends his time exploring the northern Midwest lakes and wilderness with his family.

The knives they make reflect these age and personality differences. Lucas uses a lot of acid washed D2 (tool grade) steel and synthetic handle materials like carbon fiber and Micarta. His knives are slightly urban and quite daring. James, on the other hand, uses super high quality non-corrosive steel like Stellite 6K and S30V. His handles are often titanium but also feature mammoth bone, ancient ivory, and ironwood. While his knives are more mature, they are no less aggressive and “thirsty.”

Yet, both knife makers have a passion for detail and thorough knowledge of their craft. Lucas began making knives in high school shop class; James by way of association with some established Midwestern knife makers. While neither had what was once called an apprenticeship, both immersed themselves in a community of knife makers and suffered to master the skills necessary to excel at the craft.

With James absent this year, my time at Blade was spent almost exclusively in conversation with Lucas. Although I only talk about knives in the context of Nietzsche and Athena, Lucas is always a gracious host. I hope he even slightly agrees with my assessment of what the bourgeois form of life would call his “hobby,” or, perhaps more seriously but no-less ghastly, his “calling.”

Last year I casually mentioned to him being a fascist. Given my shaved head and Greek ideal physique it must have made sense. This year, he greeted me proudly, saying, “I have something just for you.” He then handed me an 11-inch dagger with a pearl white antique Micarta handle and acid washed blade (that seems to indomitably reflect the light of a torchlight procession), explaining that he had been inspired to make it by Schutzstaffel dress daggers he had seen last summer in Germany. I suddenly forgot I had no money. After all, how often does the SS get referenced in a sales pitch?

While Blade is by no means a White Nationalist festival, at least not yet, there one can still find oneself in conversation about National Socialist Germany, Norsemen, Romans, and any number of virile subjects. These knife makers, for the most part, are not vulgar bourgeois Americans. There is no need to say white American, as knife making — based on those at Blade — is a Scandinavian, Western European, and Japanese thing.

It is a craft of precision and care, of fire and pressure. Those who cannot deal with these, evidently, do not apply. These are proud men, who, more often than not, are fully aware of the traditions they are carrying on and the cultural weight they have hoisted upon their shoulders. An editorial about the recent hypocritical political attacks on Ralph Lauren Corporation is unfortunately correct: 99% of Americans couldn’t care less where the Olympic team uniforms are made. Knife makers are not amongst that rabble mishmash, however. Instead they form an interesting aristocracy.

In Nietzsche’s middle period, he approaches the problem of modernity from the perspective of mechanical production and the impersonalization of economic man. Ultimately he defends the artisan as an example of the deep wisdom and personal responsibility that once made possible the greatest examples of nobility. As always, he explains how much more we are paying for bourgeois comfort and pursuit of happiness than we believe ourselves to be.

In earlier times all purchasing from artisans was a bestowing of a distinction on individuals, and the things with which we surrounded ourselves were the insignia of these distinctions: household furniture and clothing thus became symbols of mutual esteem and personal solidarity, whereas we now seem to live in the midst of nothing but an anonymous and impersonal slavery.[4]

Each and every knife maker with whom I have ever conversed understood his craft in these terms. The Americans among them hang their heads when talking politics — not because of Obama but because of our cultural aversion to quality, community, and duty. They know that when the 99% need a knife it will gladly go to Walmart and buy the cheapest Chinese-made knife available, without a thought for what it means to exist solely to consume. They know that the dignity of craftsmanship, to say nothing of art, means nothing in this country — a shocking development when so many of us are descendants of peoples with unique and extraordinary traditions of quality craftsmanship.

I’ve yet to meet a knife maker who talked to me about recreation and distraction, or about knife making in any way coarse and petty. I assume that that is because, while they often deal with machines (grinding steel by hand is Herculean), they have yet to be reduced to the mechanical.

The machine . . . sets in motion in those who serve it almost nothing but the lower, non-intellectual energies; . . . it provides no instigation to enhancement, to improvement, to becoming an artist. It makes men active and uniform — but in the long run this engenders a counter-effect, a despairing boredom of soul, which teaches them to long for idleness in all its varieties.[5]

The underlying beauty of buying from an artisan is that there is no anonymous work done to the sellable item. Instead it embodies the very person who made it, who explains it, and sells it. The quality of the item — that is to say, its true value — is not determined “in the eye of the beholder,” but in the eye of he who knows.

Unlike mass-produced items consumed by the unthinking mob, artisanal items, like handmade knives, are made to exemplify the traditions of their type and the values of their makers. They are not made simply to be bought. Knife makers, like other master craftsmen, do not dwell in the vulgar realm of opinion. Instead, they have wisdom about what they create — that Athenian wisdom gained by producing perfection under pressure.

The capitalist market, Nietzsche explains, must do away with the maker’s ability to determine the value of his product so that the buying public may do so. Unconcerned with any economic consequence of this change, Nietzsche instead explains that the market will only value that which is sellable. Great quality and exceptional craftsmanship mean no more than an advertisement — often far less. What, one should ask, are the cultural consequences of the devaluation of quality and skill (especially when this is read as a metaphor for people).

I suppose the warrior needn’t know who made his arms as long as he knows they will function in the moment of truth. Weapons, after all, don’t kill people — as conservative liberals love to remind us — people do. But, being counter-modern, I don’t hear a word liberals have to say about anything. Thus, I know that weapons “seek blood,” as Nietzsche said; tell us about the character of man, as the Romans believed; and define human worthiness of life, as Homer intimated.

A handmade knife connects the man who carries it to the man who made it. It connects the one with Achilles and the other with Hephaestus. It connects both of these men with those of our people that have used similar tools to protect and expand our culture’s conditions of possibility. No weapon I own proves this more than the Mainz gladius I bought from Albion Swords at Blade in 2011. Nothing I’ve ever held craves human blood like the gladius.

Albion Swords is a collaboration between Swedish swordsmith, author, and researcher Peter Johnsson, and a select team of American master swordsmiths. Johnsson meticulously studies and documents swords held in European museums and private collections. The most representative of these are then recreated to exacting standards by the team at Albion.

Each completely handmade sword they produce blends the aesthetics, blade and handle designs, and properties of the originals, with the finest steel and natural materials available in today’s world. From the geometry of the edge to the fittings of the handle,

Albion seeks to perfectly recreate ancient and medieval weapons, giving one not only a sense of how seriously our ancestors took this type of weaponry but also the promise of causing truly gruesome deaths to one’s enemies. Albion swords are meant not only to look and feel like the originals but to perform like them as well. In other words, these are weapons made for the purpose of combat.

Perhaps Albion’s swordsmiths feel the same yearning to reestablish order as we do. Perhaps their website is meant to speak to all as it does to me. For it certainly seems that Albion intends to put swords in purposeful hands — and nothing about the company or its representatives screams cultural relativism.

Do you want to feel what a Norseman felt in his hands as he disembarked before a monastery? Check out the single-edged Peterson type “Berserkr” Viking sword. Want to know what it feels like to be one of Titus’s legionaries sacking the temple of Jerusalem? Check out the Pompeii style “Tiberius” gladius. I wanted to know what it feels like to be Caesar, so I went with the Mainz style “Augustus” gladius.

When I bought it, I had my wife and son in tow. The salesman, one of the swordsmiths, in fact, said to, “Imagine [myself] standing in a hallway with them behind and the enemy in front.” “In a tight space like that,” he said, “there’s no limit to the damage you can do.” This sales tactic was only slightly different from Lucas’ use of the SS. While the SS pitch appealed to idealized nobility, the stab and slice your enemy pitch appealed to an innate sense of courage and bloodlust that each of us possesses.

Evola said that we are descendants of the “battle-ax people,” and when I hold my gladius I believe him.[6] Sparta, Rome, and the Nordic peoples line up behind me, demanding that I honor my forefathers. For those less philosophically inclined, the bloodlust will do. And that is something one can feel in the air at Blade. Everyone in the conference center, whether maker or buyer, wants to know what it feels like (if they don’t already) to smite his enemies with a blade.

It is heartwarming to watch the facial and body language of every man that picks up a bladed weapon. They are instantly transformed, not in thinking, “boy, it would be nice to slice some cheese with this,” but instead, “this would look great buried in someone’s ribs.” Something primordial is reawakened, if only for an instant, but it is there. At the swordsmiths’ tables you can practically hear the words of Steven Pressfield’s Polynikes being whispered in your ear:

You experience the ecstasy of penetration as your warhead enters the enemy’s belly and the shaft follows. You see the whites of his eyes roll inside the sockets of his helmet. You feel his knees give way beneath him and the weight of his faltering flesh drawn down the point of your spear. Are you picturing this? Is your dick hard yet?[7]

The inferior killing power of a sword or knife compared to a gun, always thought but unsaid at Blade, is, after all, ultimately a question of will, skill, and scale. The blade is a weapon with no room for cowardice — even Roman infantrymen dismissed Apollonian archers as effeminate. There must be something horrible and magical about killing someone into whose eyes we may stare. This immediacy, just as with those who make our material goods, has been lost.

It was bad enough with guns, but now computer nerds are winning wars. To see how this has impacted man’s relationship with war, just read The Iliad and Ernst Jünger’s On Pain. In the one, war is the origin of virtue, calling forth all that is noble and honorable in a man. In the other, it is a value-destroying source of pain for invisible and mechanized laborers. Instincts for war are no longer even served by war!

The informative “debate” between Collin Cleary and Alain de Benoist hinges on man’s ability to re-establish a connection with the pre-Christian gods. While de Benoist is content enough to have modern men reconnect with pre-Christian morality and ethics, thereby becoming able to battle Judeo-Christian modernity, Cleary demands that man revives his openness to the gods, thereby recovering the “way of being that gave rise to them.”[8]

Neither argument, however, addresses the role of ancient warfare in shaping the contours of paganism. Thus, they both call for paganism without swords. Yet, everything that we have been taught to emulate and value of paganism — ethical codes, brotherhood, courage — is associated with ancient warfare. Asking for a polysemic postmodern paganism is heretical, for it ignores the basic reality of the pre-Christian forms of life that “gave rise” to pagans.

For an ancient there was no personhood, no universal status as a human. There was the polis, which was the basic organizing principle of human life. Without a polis, a human was just an easily killable animal. And the only way to have a polis was to protect it by warfare. For obvious reasons, individual greatness was often attributed to the greatness of one’s people. And, the most celebrated individuals were those whose glory enhanced the fierce reputation of the polis.

How applicable this model is to modern American men is debatable, but the Greeks believed that they had understood the nature of man and created a form of life in perfect conformity with that nature. In other words, they believed that man is courageous and inclined to protect his polis and people. By the time of the Roman Empire, man’s courageous nature was rewarded with a weapon no coward could even contemplate using. How it shames us that we are in a country that kills with unmanned drones.

One thing is certain: no one that we respect, no one whose words demand that we stand up and re-establish the order established by our ancestors, has ever led us to believe that our people are not heroic — are not men in the strongest, meanest, most carnal sense of the word. The fear and cowardice that so many of us live with is by now habitual (cue Fight Club: how many of us have ever even been in a fight?).

But I’ve never learned anything about our past that led me to believe that this is anything more than a product of bourgeois modernity. Even Titus Livy, historian in the pay of Augustus, understood the link between type of man and type of weapon. In History of Rome (Ab Urbe Condita) he explains the effect of the gladius:

Fear struck their hearts. Being accustomed to fighting Greeks and Illyrians, the Macedonians had seen wounds caused by spears, arrows, or occasionally lances. But now they saw how the gladius cut arms off with the shoulder attached, severed heads from bodies cleanly at the neck, and bared internal organs through ghastly wounds — panic followed the realization of what kind of men and weapons they were up against.[9]

I’d go so far as to say that it is impossible to think a single bourgeois, puerile, ignoble, mediocre, feminine, or debasing thought when holding one of these weapons. Philosophy and epistemology are all well and good, the bases of truth and war, in fact; but Faye’s coincidentia oppositorum seems far less conceptual with a gladius or Viking sword in hand.[10] You realize that creeds and brotherhoods of steel — often the very content of the myths we use to inure ourselves against modernity — were not only based on glory, heroism, duty, and love of comrades-in-arms, but also on steel. One must have the will to use these weapons, but the will without the weapon is a paper tiger.

We were once the most terrible, the most terrifying, people on the planet; we were promised Valhalla! But that promise will likely go unfulfilled. Tyr understands that killing from a distance, which makes killing and dying anonymous and cowardly, does not a hero make. Nietzsche saw distinctions between forms of life based on systems of morality. He could have made similar distinctions based on weaponry. Come to Blade next year (May 31–June 2, 2013) and get a sense of what we must embrace to become heroic and to defeat the Last Man and his form of life.

Notes

[1] Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra, ed. Adrian Del Caro and Robert B. Pippin. Trans. Adrian Del Caro (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 200.

[2] Walter F. Otto, The Homeric Gods: The Spiritual Significance of Greek Religion, Trans. Moses Hadas. Reprint Edition (North Stratford, NH: Ayer Company Publishers, 2001).

[3] Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human, trans. R.J. Hollingdale (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986), 383.

[4] Nietzsche, Human, 383

[5] Nietzsche, Human, 366-367

[6] Julius Evola, Men Among the Ruins: Reflections of a Radical Traditionalist, ed. Michael Moynihan. Trans. Guido Stucco (Rochester, Vt: Inner Traditions, 2002), 254.

[7] Steven Pressfield, Gates of Fire (New York: Doubleday, 1998), 135.

[8] Collin Cleary, “Paganism Without Gods,” in Summoning The Gods, ed. Greg Johnson (San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2011), 75.

[9] Titus Livy, History of Rome, Volume VI, trans. Frank G. Moore (Cambridge, Ma: Loeb Classical Library, 1922), 457.

[10] Guillaume Faye, “Mars and Hephaestus: The Return of History,” in North American New Right, volume 1, trans. Greg Johnson (San Francisco: Counter-Currents, 2012), 242.

 

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22 Comments

  1. Roissy Hater
    Posted July 24, 2012 at 8:29 am | Permalink

    War fetish is idiotic and has cost us the best members of our race. Some wars are fought for noble purpose, but I assume that the overwhelming majority of wars, especially in the last two centuries, were fought for very suspicious, if not criminal reasons.

    Let’s try to have some maturity and say that war is not preferable, but men of able body should be prepared physically, morally, and mentally to engage in such conflicts at all times.

  2. Nichidoku
    Posted July 24, 2012 at 8:40 am | Permalink

    Awesome and Admirable! I envy you, pal.

  3. Posted July 24, 2012 at 9:51 am | Permalink

    I have experienced something similar at gun shows, the same sense of community and being among comrades, although of course firearms are far less traditional than blades. Excellent job! Traditionalism in action.

    As for Roissy Hater, you are right that, since war became an industrial process in which cowards with superior weaponry can easily defeat brave warriors with nothing but spirit and honor on their side, but that is not the traditional meaning of war. For the traditional warrior, combat is the culmination of life, and a true test of two peoples to see who is strongest. A blade is a reminder of that time.

  4. phil white
    Posted July 24, 2012 at 10:17 am | Permalink

    I take it this guy is too young to be a Vietnam Vet?

    • Posted July 24, 2012 at 12:41 pm | Permalink

      I thought it was clear from the essay that Mr. Dyal wasn’t describing the sort of warfare that occurred in the Vietnam War.

      • Posted July 24, 2012 at 2:45 pm | Permalink

        Thanks Mr. Morgan. Another fantastic source on a traditional understanding of war is Eric J. Leeds’ No Man’s Land. Unlike so many studies of WWI, it looks at how the experience of trench warfare lead to the development of brotherhood through combat (what the Fascists called a Trincerocrazia). It was this trenchocracy that formed the earliest fascist squads and the spirit of their daring, sacrifice, and commitment to one another that formed the core values of the movement.

      • phil white
        Posted July 24, 2012 at 7:24 pm | Permalink

        I didn’t re-enlist for Vietnam precisely because my infantry training NCO combat vets made it plain. War is hell.
        People who’ve not experienced war should refrain from glorifying it and diverting us from where the issues is being decided, the propaganda arena.
        The Jews didn’t do this to us by overwhelming America withh 400 divisions of the Israeli Army.

    • Posted July 24, 2012 at 3:56 pm | Permalink

      I’m not too young. I still like using a K-Bar for most utilitarian tasks. Some newer ones come with semi serrated blades which are great for cutting through rope or lines. Plus you can hammer them back straight if you bend one when using it as the wrong tool for the job.

      The article was romantic BS.

      • phil white
        Posted July 24, 2012 at 7:31 pm | Permalink

        “War is all hell” T. Sherman

        “This is not a confession, nor an acusation and least of all an adventure for death is not an adventure to those who stand face to face with it.” E. Remarque

        “Only fools and little children are not afraid of war for they do not understand.” N. Khruschev

  5. Posted July 24, 2012 at 3:28 pm | Permalink

    This is easily one of my favorite essays I’ve read on Counter-Currents. Insightful, personal, a friendly read, and informative. Sharing now.

    And wow, I took a look at the sites for both knife makers. Both do great work, but some of Seamus’ knives really caught my eye.

  6. Lew
    Posted July 24, 2012 at 9:24 pm | Permalink

    In earlier times all purchasing from artisans was a bestowing of a distinction on individuals, and the things with which we surrounded ourselves were the insignia of these distinctions: household furniture and clothing thus became symbols of mutual esteem and personal solidarity, whereas we now seem to live in the midst of nothing but an anonymous and impersonal slavery.

    That is nice quote from Nietzsche. He cut through reality in a way no modern thinker has ever matched except maybe Shakespeare. The problem is that paying artisans for their product can be a very expensive proposition. On the weapons front, I’ve always wanted a Wilson Combat custom 1911, basically the 1911 equivalent of an Albion sword. The problem is they’re $3000 to $5000.00 each. Too much for a handgun, but I could see laying out $800.00 for a Roman sword that works as advertised. Those swords look like pieces of art. Regarding swords, incidentally, one of my wife’s friends didn’t evacuate for Katrina. He doesn’t own firearms, but he is a big sword buff. In the days after Katrina when it was damn near anarchy, he walked around in public with a sword, and nobody screwed with him.

    • Posted July 25, 2012 at 8:56 am | Permalink

      I’m not a big comment guy, as I never dwell in the realm of opinion, but let me say it was not my intention to glorify something that has clearly ruined so many modern lives. Instead I wanted to point out the distance between cultural conceptions of war and how these coincide with a concept of man. Ours is a cowardly age, thus our man and warfare are cowardly. Emasculation and passivism are both symptoms of a culture in decline – the Yodan belief that “wars not make one great”. Other cultural orientations to war, really to violence, show that the bourgeois form of life purposely raises “men” just like me – to scorn war, strife, and conflict while having no idea about earned brotherhood and commitment in the face of death. I’m suggesting that in order to defeat the modern man in all of us we, must re-orient ourselves towards violence and warfare. That veterans returned home next to comrades in body bags and were spat upon is exactly what I’m talking about. At one point I would have been one of those spitters. I suppose if you’d rather have that than an elite actually being willing to fight for the sake of its own nobility, then the USA is AOK and it makes little sense to find you at Counter-Currents.

      • Posted July 26, 2012 at 9:21 am | Permalink

        Since I’ve never served in the military, nor been in combat, I would not presume to debate anyone who has on the nature of modern warfare. At the same time, we do have to take into account the testimony of a man who found glory and life-enhancement even in what was very likely the most hellish war of modern times – the First World War. I’m talking about Ernst Juenger. At any rate, I have to agree with Mark that, while no one should embrace violence or war recklessly or without purpose, the other extreme is even more harmful. We are now in a culture in which even those people who are nominally “on our side” are too fearful to stand up and be counted, let alone get into a one-on-one fight or go into combat. This is true of our entire civilization. As “Fight Club” correctly pointed out, “Most people will do anything to avoid getting into a fight.” Our culture is one in which even the slightest discomfort or danger is to be eshewed. When the U.S. goes to war, as we have seen, as soon as there are a handful of casualties everyone immediately starts squawking about pulling out. (I’m not attempting to justify the Iraq War, but it is nevertheless true that the casualties the United States and its allies sustained throughout the entire 8.5 years of combat were far fewer than the casualties inflicted in single battles during the World Wars, and yet it tore this country in half.) That is not a healthy place for any society to be. So to reconnect a bit with our more natural selves and experience a bit of aggression, danger and discomfort now and again, whether it is through weapons or whatever, is not only healthy but essential, in my view.

  7. Persephone
    Posted July 25, 2012 at 3:07 pm | Permalink

    Apparently the point of this essay has gone completely over some readers’ heads. Talking about Vietnam or any of the other modern Jewish wars in this context is anachronistic and irrelevant. There is a fundamental difference between being a soldier and being a warrior. The former is a career or occupation and usually serves another’s cause; the latter is the essence of the masculine soul and the most vital role of a man within his family and society. The sword symbolizes the warrior. It stands for maleness, for the sharpness of intellect, for logic, skill, and – not as contrarily as one might think – for both violence and the peace maintained by that violence.

    There is a qualitative difference, too, between the way of the sword and the way of the gun – one that has a considerable dysgenic significance: the sword requires immense skill, strength and physical prowess to master; while the gun, though sometimes requiring good aim, generally allows anyone, worthy or not, to mow down his enemies and emerge victorious. The gun, then, violates natural law (which favors the survival of the fittest) by allowing the weak, cowardly, lazy and stupid an equal chance to attain victory over the strong, brave, industrious and intelligent; whereas the sword requires its wielder to possess the latter virtues in order to survive. Many actually use this point to champion the gun, celebrating it as “the great equalizer”. I doubt many of them have really considered all the implications of that statement.

    For these reasons, the sword has an archetypal resonance in the human psyche that the gun does not and never will have. For the same reasons, the warrior is an archetype that has far deeper meaning than simply being a grunt in some god-forsaken hellhole in someone else’s war just because the Jewish-Marxist puppeteers have decided it suits their purpose for you to be there. Of course, it also suits their purpose for you to have an aversion to violence and to see no virtue in fighting for eternal truths in order to secure the future of your people and your civilization. The way they like it is for those-who-will-fight to do so only in service of goals that ultimately subvert their own best interests, and for those-who-will-not-fight to sweepingly dismiss all violence and war as equally evil and worthless, drawing no shades of distinction between what is noble and harmonizes with natural law, and what is crass and ignoble and violates natural law. It is precisely to this end that most in our society have now been conditioned.

    A people who lose their awareness and understanding of the right use of violence, and who become squeamish about its application, is a people who will die. It’s that simple.

  8. Collin Cleary
    Posted July 26, 2012 at 9:36 am | Permalink

    This is a great article, Mark. My one quibble has to do with your characterization of my view of paganism and Benoist’s. You write “Neither argument, however, addresses the role of ancient warfare in shaping the contours of paganism. Thus, they both call for paganism without swords.” This is a non sequitur. The fact that I haven’t (yet) directly addressed the role of ancient warfare in paganism, does not entitle you to draw the conclusion that my position is that we need a “paganism without swords.” Far from it, in fact. There’s nothing girlie about my paganism. (Or Benoist’s, for that matter.) And I agree with much of what you have to say in this essay.

  9. Lew
    Posted July 26, 2012 at 3:20 pm | Permalink

    Speaking of honor, courage and duty under duress, everyone by now has probably heard about that loser in the Colorado shooting who left his wife and child behind in the carnage while he got out. When James Holmes came in shooting, he abandoned his wife and child and found a way out for himself. Now, I realize Internet Tough Guy talk is cheap, and it’s easy for men who weren’t there when the bullets were flying to say “I would have done this or that.” Still, I am 100% sure that I and most fathers, even in today’s society with Western civilization at its nadir, would never leave their child behind in a situation like that. I don’t know how he can stand to show his face in public. A healthy society would ostracize a man like that.

    • Lew
      Posted July 26, 2012 at 3:48 pm | Permalink

      Correction:

      She was his girlfriend and later his fiance not his wife, and apparently the kids were hers by another man. So, he didn’t abandon his wife and his own kids. The press accounts are confusing. Some say their kids; others say her kids.

  10. Cagefighter
    Posted July 26, 2012 at 3:46 pm | Permalink

    Great article! For the shallow-types yeah the tone sounds a lot like that misunderstood Fight Club movie – nothing but glorified violence and destruction. But for those who can see the higher forms of being animating from a fight (especially to the death) it takes on deeper meaning I would venture to say that not everyone is accessible to.
    Since everyone is not receptive, to the same degree, to the warriors calling, we will always have people who view it from the superficial, materialistic and ultimately relegated to the protective gated community of the mundane.

    • Lew
      Posted July 26, 2012 at 9:29 pm | Permalink

      When is the last you challenged someone to a fight to the death?

      Quite frankly, I’m concerned about what seem to be emerging themes here at CC: military and combat priapism, the glorification of violence and war, and defining such as essential elements of true masculinity.

      I think everybody here understands and appreciates the author and his arguments, and especially the vital importance of recovering ancient understandings of warriorhood and masculinity and healthy manhood.

      However, the problem with essays like this one is they never seem to specify a takeaway.

      In terms of specific actions, what, exactly, are men who reject modernity supposed to do with this information? Specifically? Please, let’s have no generalities about society needs to do this or that to sustain its vitality, our society is weak and dying, we need to raise a new warrior class and so on. Everyone knows this.

      What’s the takeaway right now for a men who are fed up with modern emasculation and want to work toward the ancient warrior ideal which many here appear to believe must include literal combat and fighting?

      If you’re so itching to get into a fight — I don’t mean “you” literally” ; I write in the second person for rhetorical convenience — here’s what you do. Go down to your nearest sports bar that draws college-aged men. Pick a night where there are a lot of hot women milling around. Take a seat and start eye-balling the toughest looking guy in there. When he sees you staring, maintain eye contact. Don’t break it. Keep looking him dead in the eye in a challenging way. When he says “you got a problem mother fucker,” tell him “if you’d keep your mother off the street I wouldn’t fuck her.” Do it in plain view of the females. But you will been a fight…

      Then, you’ll have your fight — and might get killed, suffer broken bones, do the same to him, end up in jail or the wrong end of a civil lawsuit.

      What would that prove? In point of fact, fighting unless it’s absolutely necessary is for men who are weak, men who lack the intellect to avoid or diffuse conflict with their minds.

      The great literature of our civilization always offers insight into the human condition and its enduring and timeless problems. On the matters at issue in this essay, the contrast between Odysseus and Achilles is illustrative. Homer repeatedly describes Odysseus as the “wily” Odysseus, a warrior who mainly (not exclusively) survives with his wits; Achilles, in contrast, uses his fighting prowess. Is Odysseus less of a man, less honorable, because he wields the sword less often than Achilles? It’s preposterous to suggest that he is, and Odysseus was a King. No less an authority on Aristocratic warrior values than Homer himself shows more than one path for the warrior. In Odysseus’ case, combat is not essential.

      • Faustus
        Posted July 27, 2012 at 7:52 am | Permalink

        Beautiful prose; and your points cut to the quick: the metaphysics of the Warrior/Priest (or poet) is about Tradition and Initiation. Once initiated, there will be components of aristocracy and plebianism – but all belong to this fraternity in a organic way.

        There are myriads of men, of every calibre and distinction, and it will take us all to win this struggle.

  11. Hans Krug
    Posted July 27, 2012 at 6:41 pm | Permalink

    A man and a sword; one is worth nothing without the other.

  12. Eumaeus
    Posted July 31, 2012 at 11:14 am | Permalink

    I thought this was an interesting article. The comraderie with dad was a nice touch.

    Personally I prefer Cold Steel seconds because they are high quality knives but cheap. I also like the machetes. They had a lang-sax and a scram-sax in parkerized carbon steel that I really love for twenty or less each. Packing that scramsax under my seat lol.

    Anybody can benefit from disciplined training with edged weapons. You dont need to have the CIB to benefit from martial arts.

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