The anarch

[Thomas Friese <tfriese@eumeswil.org>]

(To reiterate)
Now that the original anarch has left I would like to move ahead with a pet project on the Anarch in Eumeswil. A paper, or more,  is in the works on this topic. It occurs to me that I, and the eventual readers, might profit from the abundant and diverse expertise available on this mailing list. I shall post a quotation from Eumeswil every few days for your:

* interpretations, 
* comments on the translation, 
* feelings about the importance of the passage,
* illustrative examples from Junger's own life,
* citations and links to other authors, 
* anything else that I might use to personally understand Ernst Junger's Anarch and to present a full picture of him (her!) to others.

 I am using the English translation by Neugroschel (Eridanos, 1993, ISBN 0-941419-97-5) for the purposes of these postings. The phrases all deal with the Anarch directly. 
In my opinion the Anarch is Jünger's crowning creation, whether this is recognized yet or not. I hope by this effort to contribute to a broader recognition of this figure and his lessons on living in the world.
I trust that the phrases will stimulate interesting discussion for all. Any materials or suggestions that are used in any way in an eventual publication will naturally be credited to their source.

Anarch posting 2:
( Regarding the distinction between the anarch and the anarchist)

	"If I were an anarchist and nothing further, they would have easily exposed me. They are particularly geared towards detecting anyone who tries to approach the powerful with mischievous intent,  'with a dagger in his cloak.'  The anarch can lead a lonesome existence; the anarchist is sociable and must get together with peers."
								Page 41-42.


(More regarding the anarchist/anarch distinction)

	" The positive counterpart of the anarchist is the anarch. The latter is not the adversary of the monarch, but his antipode, untouched by him though also dangerous. He is not the opponent of the monarch, but his pendant. 
	After all, the monarch wants to rule many, nay, all people; the anarch, only himself. This gives him an attitude both objective and skeptical towards the powers that be; he has their figures go past him - and he is untouched, no doubt, yet inwardly not unmoved, not without historical passion. Every born historian is more or less an anarch; if he has greatness, then on this basis he rises without partisanship to the judge's bench.
	This concerns my profession, which I take seriously. I am also the night steward at the Casbah; now, I am not saying that I take this job less seriously. Here I am directly involved in the events, I deal with the living. My anarchic principle is not detrimental to my work.  Rather it substantiates it as something I have in common with everyone else, except that I am more conscious if this. I serve the Condor, who is a tyrant - that is his function, just as mine is to be his steward; both of us can retreat to substance: to human nature in its nameless condition."
								Page 43.  


 


	"When in the course of my work at the luminar, I was reviewing public law, from Aristotle to Hegel and beyond, I thought of an Anglo Saxon's axiom about human equality. He seeks it not in the ever-changing distibution of power and means, but in a constant: the fact that anyone can kill anyone else.
This is a platitude, albeit reduced to a striking formula. The possibility of killing someone else is part of the potential of the anarch whom everyone carries around inside himself, even though he is seldom aware of that possibility. It always slumbers in the underground, even when two people exchange greetings in the street or avoid each other. When one stands atop a tower or in front of an oncoming train, that possibility is already drawing closer. Aside from the technological dangers, we also register the nearness of the Other. He can even be my brother. An old poet, Edgar Allen Poe, grasped this possibility in "Descent into the Maelstrom". In any case, we watch our backs. Then comes the thronging in the catastrophe, the raft of the Méduse, the starving in the lifeboat....
	I want to indicate this only insofar as it concerns my service. In any event, I brought this knowledge into the Condor's range, into the inner sanctum that Monseigneur described as his "Parvulo." I can kill him, dramatically or discreetly. His beverages - he especially likes a light red wine - ultimately pass through my hands.
	Now granted, it is unlikely that I would kill him, albeit not impossible. Who can tell what astrological conjunctions one may get involved in? So, for now, my knowledge is merely theoretical, though important insofar as it puts me in his level. Not only can I kill him; I can also grant him amnesty. This is in my hands.
	Naturally, I would not try to strike him just because he is tyrant - I am too well versed in history, especially the model that we have attained in Eumeswil. An immoderate tyrant settles his own hash. The execution can be left to the anarchists; that is all they think about. Hence, tyranny is seldom bequeathed; unlike the monarchies, it barely endures beyond the grandson. Parmenides inherited tyranny from his father "like a disease." According to Thales, the rarest thing he encountered in his travels was an old tyrant.
	That is my basic attitude in performing my job, and perhaps I do so better than any number of others. I am his equal; the difference lies in the clothing and the ceremonies, which are only blockheads despise; you doff your clothes only when things start getting serious.
	My awareness of my equality is actually good for my work; I am free enough to perform it lightly and agreeably - as if dancing. Often it gets late, and if things have gone well, I pat myself on the back before closing the bar, like a  performer whose act has succeeded.
The powerful  appreciate this mood, especially at the Parvulo. The free and easy atmosphere in the space increases their enjoyment. Of course, this atmosphere must be dosed out. Needless to say, I do not imbibe, even if I am offered a drink, which happens if the Yellow Khan is our guest - at which time caution is in order.
I also let the conversation pass over me, although I follow it attentively and am often enthralled. My smile is detached; it is part of my job, but I do not join in the mirth triggered by a punch line. I weave a tapestry."
								Page 44-45

Comments on these aspect of the anarch?

I've included rather a lot of material here since the passages are related. This axiom of equality seems so extreme at first, even if, as Manuel will later point out, the anarch would probably be one of the last to actually resort to such a measure. Yet I think it has an amazingly calming psychological effect when taken seriously and consciously brought to mind in certain situations. It levels the situation completely. It is one of those simple powerful truths which require profound contemplation. Where might one (Junger?) have come across this Anglo-Saxon axiom?

(And who is the Yellow Khan? Chinese? More mysterious is the Blue Khan - Japanese? North American!? :)