THE HERMETIC TRADITION
Under the title La Tradizione Ermetica nei suoi Simboli, nella sua Dottrina e nella sua 'Ars Regia,' Julius Evola has recently published a work that is interesting in many respects, but which just once more illustrates, as if this were needed, the timeliness of what we wrote recently on the relationships between priestly initiation and royal initiation. [2] We find affirmed here the independence of the second, to which the author wishes precisely to link Hermeticism, and the idea of two distinct and even irreducible traditional types, one contemplative and the other active, which generally characterize of the East and the West respectively. Thus we make certain reservations about the interpretation given of Hermetic symbolism, in the measure that it is influenced by such a conception, although elsewhere it clearly shows that true alchemy is of the spiritual and not the material order, which is the exact truth, a truth too often misunderstood or ignored by modern writers who claim to deal with these questions.
We will take advantage of this occasion to further clarify some important ideas, first of all the meaning which should be attributed to the word 'Hermeticism' itself, which some of our contemporaries
seem to use without rhyme or reason. This word indicates that we are dealing essentially with a tradition of Egyptian origin, later cloaked in a Hellenized form, doubtless in the Alexandrian epoch, and transmitted in this form during the Middle Ages to both the Islamic and the Christian worlds, and, let us add, to the second largely by the intermediary of the first, as is proven by the numerous Arabic or arabicized terms adopted by the European Hermeticists, beginning with the word 'alchemy' (al-Kimia) itself. [3] It would therefore be quite illegitimate to extend this designation to other traditional forms, just as it would be, for example, to call 'Kabbalah' anything other than Hebrew esoterism; not, of course, that there exist no equivalents elsewhere, for these exist to the point that this traditional science of alchemy has its exact correspondence in doctrines such as those of India, Tibet, and China, although with modes of expression and methods of realization that are naturally quite different. But as soon as one says 'Hermeticism', one specifies a clearly determined form, whose provenance can only be GrecoEgyptian. Indeed, the doctrine thus designated is by this very fact related to Hermes insofar as he was considered by the Greeks to be identical with the Egyptian Thoth; and we will note immediately that this goes against Evola's thesis by presenting this doctrine as derived essentially from a sacerdotal teaching, for Thoth, in his role as preserver and transmitter of tradition, is nothing other than the very representation of the ancient Egyptian priesthood, or rather, to speak more exactly, of the principle of inspiration from which it held its authority and in whose name it formulated and communicated initiatic knowledge.
Now a question must be asked: does what has been preserved under the name of 'Hermeticism' constitute a complete traditional doctrine? The answer can only be negative, for strictly speaking the knowledge it represents is not metaphysical but only cosmological (understanding this in its double application, 'macrocosmic' and 'microcosmic'). It is therefore not admissible that Hermeticism, in the sense that this word has acquired since the Alexandrian period
and held constantly since then, represents the whole of the Egyptian tradition. Although the cosmological point of view seems to have been particularly developed here, and is in any case what is most apparent in all the vestiges that remain, whether it be texts or monuments, it must not be forgotten that it can never be anything but a secondary and contingent point of view, an application of the doctrine to the knowledge of what we can call the 'intermediary world'. It would be interesting, though no doubt rather difficult, to examine how this part of the Egyptian tradition could have found itself as it were isolated and yet remain apparently independent, and then be incorporated into the Islamic and Christian esoterisms of the Middle Ages (which a complete doctrine could not have achieved), to the point of truly becoming an integral part of both and furnishing them with an entire symbolism which, through a suitable transposition, could even serve on occasion as a vehicle for truths of a higher order. This is not the place to enter into these very complex historical considerations, but however that may be, we must say that, even if the specifically cosmological character of Hermeticism does not justify Evola's conception, it at least explains it in a certain measure, for sciences of this order are those which, in all traditional civilizations, have been pre-eminently the appanage of the Kshatriyas or their equivalents, whereas pure metaphysics was that of the Brahmins. This is why one sometimes witnesses as an effect of the revolt of the Kshatriyas against the spiritual authority of the Brahmins the formation of incomplete traditional currents, reduced to these single sciences separated from their principle, and even deviated in a 'naturalist' direction by a negation of metaphysics and the misunderstanding of the subordinate character of 'physical' science and (the two things being closely connected) the sacerdotal origin of all initiatic teaching, even that more particularly intended for the use of the Kshatriyas, as we have explained on other occasions. [4] This is certainly not to say that Hermeticism in itself constitutes such a deviation or that it essentially implies something illegitimate (which would have made its incorporation into traditional orthodox forms impossible); but it is quite necessary to recognize that it
can easily lend itself to this by its very nature, and this more generally is the danger of all traditional sciences when they are cultivated for themselves alone, something that exposes them to the danger of losing sight of their attachment to the principial order. Alchemy, which could be defined as the 'technique' of Hermeticism, is truly a 'royal art', if this is understood to be a mode of initiation particularly appropriate to the nature of Kshatriyas; but this itself marks its exact place in the ensemble of a regularly constituted tradition, and one must furthermore not confuse the means to initiatic realization with its final goal, which is always pure knowledge.
Another point in Evola's thesis that seems questionable is the assimilation he almost always makes between Hermeticism and magic, It is true that he seems to take 'magic' in a rather different sense from what is ordinarily understood, but we greatly fear that even this cannot but occasion some rather unfortunate confusions. Inevitably, when one thinks of 'magic', one thinks of a science meant to produce more or less extraordinary phenomena, notably (but not exclusively) in the sensible order. Whatever the origin of the word may have been, this meaning has become so thoroughly inherent in it that it ought to be left as it is. Thus it is nothing but the most inferior of the applications of traditional knowledge, we could even say the most despised, whose practice is left to those whose individual limitations make them incapable of developing other possibilities; we see no benefit to evoking the idea when it is really a question of things that, even though contingent, are nonetheless notably higher, and even if this is only a question of terminology it must be agreed that it still has its importance. Besides, something more may be involved here; this word 'magic' exercises a strange fascination on some people in our time, and as we have already noted in the preceding article to which we alluded in the beginning, the preponderance accorded to such a point of view, be this only in intention, is still linked to the alteration of traditional sciences separated from their metaphysical principle; and this is doubtless the rock which every attempt at reconstituting such sciences strikes against, if one does not begin from what is truly the beginning in all respects, that is to say with the principle itself, which is also the end in view of which all the rest must normally be ordered.
On the other hand, where we are entirely in agreement with Evola, and where we see the greatest merit of his book, is when he insists on the purely spiritual and 'interior' nature of true alchemy, which has absolutely nothing to do with the material operations of any 'chemistry' in the natural meaning of this word. Nearly all the moderns are strangely mistaken about this, both those who would make themselves defenders of alchemy as well as those who have made themselves its detractors. It is nevertheless easy to see in what terms the ancient Hermeticists speak of the 'puffers' and 'charcoal burners', in whom must be recognized the true precursors of present-day chemists, unflattering as this may be for them; even as late as the eighteenth century an alchemist like Pernéty does not fail to stress the difference between 'Hermetic philosophy' and 'common chemistry'. Thus, what gave birth to modern chemistry is not alchemy, with which it has in the final analysis no relationship (any more than does the 'hyperchemistry' dreamed up by some contemporary occultists); it is only a deformation or deviation resulting from the incomprehension of those who, incapable of penetrating the true meaning of the symbols, took everything literally and, believing that only material operations were involved, embarked on a program of more or less disordered experimentation. In the Arab world too, material alchemy has always been held of little worth, sometimes even likened to a kind of sorcery, whereas spiritual alchemy, the only true alchemy, was held in high honor, being often designated by the name Kimia-es-saādah or 'alchemy of felicity. [5]
This is not to say, however, that one must deny for this reason the possibility of the metallic transmutations that represent alchemy in the eyes of the common man; but we must not confuse things of wholly different orders, and we do not even see a priori why such transmutations could not be achieved through procedures belonging merely to profane chemistry (the 'hyperchemistry' to which we alluded earlier really amounts to no more than this). There is, however, another aspect to the question which Evola very correctly points out. Anyone who has realized certain inner states can, by virtue of the analogical relationship between the 'microcosm' and the
'macrocosm', produce outwardly corresponding effects. It is therefore admissible that the one who has reached a certain degree in the practice of spiritual alchemy may be thereby capable of accomplishing metallic transmutations, but this only as a wholly accidental consequence and without recourse to any of the procedures of material pseudo-alchemy, solely by a kind of outward projection of the energies he carries within himself. There is a difference here comparable to that separating 'theurgy', or the action of 'spiritual influences', from magic and even sorcery; if the apparent effects are sometimes the same in both cases, the causes which bring them about are totally different. We will add moreover that those who really possess such powers generally make no use of them, at least outside of very particular circumstances where their exercise is made lawful by other considerations. Be that as it may, what must never be lost sight of, and what lies at the very foundation of all truly traditional teaching, is that every realization worthy of the name is of an essentially inward order, even if it is susceptible of outward repercussions. Man can find its principles and means only within himself, and he can do so because he carries within himself a correspondence with all that exists. Al-insānu ramzul-wujūd, 'man is a symbol of universal Existence'; and if he succeeds in penetrating to the center of his own being, he thereby attains total knowledge with all that it implies in addition. Man yaraf nafsahu yaraf Rabbahu, 'he who knows his self knows his Lord'; and he then knows all things within the supreme unity of the Principle itself, outside of which there is nothing that can have the slightest degree of reality.