There are many beliefs but only one reality.

Or at least, by claiming reality is singular I mean there's only one venue that can play host to our beliefs. (By all means apply your beliefs to a personal or simulated reality, if you like, but don't expect the rest of us to notice.)

So – our beliefs are applied to a domain of experience that we can share (to a greater or lesser extent) or else our beliefs cannot be seen to have been applied at all. This domain is the consensus reality. Furthermore, it makes sense only to apply beliefs to reality that don't contradict one another, otherwise actions based upon them will tend to come to nothing – and yet, sometimes, the unified nature of reality may in fact demonstrate that what we assumed to be contradictory beliefs will in actuality function side by side.

Politics can be viewed as a guardian at the threshold of consensus reality. Politics is a word to describe those processes by which we organise how beliefs are applied or held in abeyance. These are the processes by which the consensual reality is made, and also determine to an extent the content and characteristics of that reality.

Given the close relationship between politics and belief, it's not surprising that occultism has embroiled itself in politics since the beginning – especially politics in its more radical or revolutionary forms, sometimes progressive and sometimes reactionary. Because the occultist doesn't limit his or her experience to the consensus reality, the notion of heaven on earth (or 'enlightenment', if you like) is not just an ideal but a viable proposition. Indeed, some of them may already have realised heaven on earth. Changing the consensus reality so that others can find their way to realise it too is often one of the main aims of occult politics.

Many who stick to the consensus view regard politics as a kind of meta-belief – that is, as merely a belief itself concerning what other kinds of belief it is appropriate to hold. They suppose that engaging with politics determines our beliefs, which in turn shape our actions, and in this way earth might be brought a step closer to heaven. The occultist, on the other hand, doesn't make a hard and fast distinction between action and belief. Occultism recognises that adopting a belief is itself an action that reshapes reality – unless you'd like to insist that your mind isn't a part of reality, an absurd notion, but which is nevertheless a key tenet of the consensus view. For whoever realises that not only are action and belief indistinguishable, but also reality and whatever we suppose stands 'outside' or 'against' it and seeks to change it, then for that person the work of building heaven on earth is over.

Power Trip

Power is not the definition of politics but merely one of its effects. Consensus reality is the domain of experiences that we can share and agree upon, and power is a word that describes the extent of the ability possessed by an individual or group to shape and define those experiences, relative to other individuals or groups.

Because the occultist recognises realities over and above the consensus, he or she has a quite different relationship to power from a person limited by the consensus view. The occultist recognises that the measure of power is always relative, and therefore has a meaning only in those places where the standard of that measure is agreed upon. (As someone once put it: 'Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's'.) The occultist may indeed seek to acquire and exercise power, in order to reshape the consensus reality in a way that enables others access to the realisation of heaven on earth, but this honourable intention is no safeguard against wrongdoing or harm. Power is the ability to shape the consensus, which inevitably suppresses certain interests whilst advancing others. Power will always have the same kinds of effect on people's lives regardless of who wields it.

History is largely the story of the groups or individuals who have held power and what they have done with it. Conventional history, therefore, is often written in answer to the question: Who? But this is a question of marginal importance to occultists, who ask it only as a practice in itself for exposing the illusion of identity.

Secret History

Gary Lachman's recent book Politics and the Occult (2008) casts interesting light on the relationship between occultism and politics over the past four centuries, but Lachman regards the project of building heaven upon earth from within the consensus view – that is, as largely a matter of belief.

The historian's assumption is that occult beliefs arise in reaction to the politics of an era and that their aims go largely unfulfilled. This perspective informs the widely prevalent view within academia that occult and esoteric traditions can be understood through historical analysis. Yet a history of occultism told by occultists would present a radically different view.

Throughout the ages, esoteric groups have attempted different solutions to the question of the relationship between power and the attainment of heaven on earth. Sadly, this is not a soluble problem because the goal of heaven on earth lies outside consensual reality, whereas the sphere over which power can have an influence is limited entirely within it.

Power and politics are therefore incapable of delivering the New Jerusalem. No doubt, they're important tools for changing consensus reality, but heaven on earth depends upon transcending consensus reality altogether, which would imply either a politics that contradicted its own principles or a power that denied its own authority, neither of which seems very viable in the consensus reality.

In the Seventeenth Century the answer posed by the Rosicrucians was a worldwide network of enlightened healers, dedicated to seeking wisdom in all the nations of the world and curing the sick for free. But after the publication of their manifesto, with its invitation to anyone sharing these aims to join in, no further communications were ever received, causing many to conclude that its members were non-existent and the whole movement a hoax.

This view of Rosicrucianism supports the consensus view that belief is determined by politics but is insufficient in itself as a form of action or practice. On the contrary, Rosicrucianism was extraordinarily successful, because anyone seeking to become a Rosicrucian had no option other than to fill the gap opened by the non-existence of the movement. In the 'hoax' of Rosicrucianism was a direct lesson that building heaven on earth proceeds not from espousing belief for its own sake, but only for the sake of simply getting on with the job. There is no separation between act and belief; anyone serious in their belief in Rosicrucianism was acting as one.

Rosicrucianism was a successful political manifestation of occultism because it came so close to actually embodying the paradoxical form of power that (as I argued earlier) is the closest in consensual reality that something could come to transcending that reality. It should be noted, however, that at the time the evident 'non-existence' of the movement attracted much mockery and derision from mainstream culture. Outside the mainstream, Rosicrucianism has remained quietly influential even down to the present day.

By the Eighteenth Century, various forms of Freemasonry had picked up the mantle from Rosicrucianism, yet the political organisation of these occult groups was in a sense almost a mirror image of Rosicrucianism. Instead of 'non-existent' members, we encounter in Freemasonry and its offshoots an image of enlightened beings so mysterious yet so endowed with power that they have become virtually inaccessible to anyone except those with high, elite connections. Unlike the Rosicrucians, groups such as The Bavarian Illuminati weren't ridiculed for not existing, but were feared for existing 'too much' – as invisible networks wielding undue political influence.

In the Nineteenth Century another shift becomes apparent in Theosophy. The largely inaccessible and semi-divine 'Hidden Masters' are still in evidence, pulling the strings of human destiny from their Himalayan hideaways, but (luckily for the rest of us) Madame Blavatsky presented herself as on hand to transmit their wisdom.

The leading figures among the Traditionalist movement of the Twentieth Century, such Julius Evola and René Guénon, organised themselves as a kind of Protestant response to Theosophy's Catholicism, insisting that anyone could access the Hidden Masters directly for themselves – because Guénon, Evola and company were those masters! The Traditionalists presented themselves as an elite band of enlightened leaders, inviting others to participate in their mission of steering the ignorant masses away from the disaster of modernity.

Who's A Nazi?

This last group raises a crucial issue, of course, because of the marked similarity in the way they organised their aim of creating heaven on earth with the way the fascist dictatorships of the time went about organising the consensus reality of Europe. But, as I've argued, politics concerns the processes by which belief is organised in the relative, consensus reality and has no bearing on the creation of heaven upon earth, which concerns the absolute.

In my view, the Rosicrucians took a better approach because it was far more subtle, but the elitism of the Traditionalists does not rule out the attainment of their aim. Anyone in doubt should take a look at Evola's Introduction to Magic (2001), which still stands as one of the clearest, most direct and culturally diverse books of magical practice ever written. The practices described in that volume certainly work, and most probably did work for those that followed them.

You can call me a Nazi apologist if you like – but you'd be wrong! In fact, I'm an apologist for occultism, which was something that Hitler never cared for but despised, despite the rumours to the contrary in the sensationalist literature about the Nazis that sprung up afterwards – much of which has now been debunked (Lachman 2008: 195).

The distinguishing feature of occultism with respect to politics is its refusal to separate action from belief and its recognition of a reality beyond the consensual. From this perspective, using elitism as a tool to bring people closer to the absolute doesn't entail belief that elitism in itself is good, and neither does it hold elitism as a final goal. It does imply, however, a willingness to use that particular tool and an assumption of its usefulness. In these respects the way that the Traditionalists organised their aims was seriously flawed.

Lachman mentions how in the history of the occult we repeatedly encounter 'good guys saying bad things' (Lachman 2008: xvi). Having noted in occultism the intentional merging of belief and action, and the observance of realities beyond the consensual, we are in a position to better understand why this is the case. Good guys said bad things because they sometimes used their bad beliefs to achieve their good aims.

How this reflects on the future of occultism is, of course, difficult to predict. Many occult organisations of the present day are simply modelled on those of the past, or represent amalgamations of older forms. What seems a fresher departure, however, are those esoteric organisations that have modelled themselves on modern corporations – such as Ken Wilber's Integral Institute or Andrew Cohen's Evolutionary Enlightenment.

Perhaps this is an attempt to shed from esotericism any aura of the esoteric altogether; to repackage the project of heaven on earth as an unthreatening 'commodity' that anyone can purchase easily. But as a tactic, it brings occultism dangerously close to the consensual reality that it must transcend in order to realise itself. It will be interesting to see to what extent this type of organisation succeeds in its aims, and what the consequences in the consensus reality might be, because one thing that historians of the occult surely have demonstrated is that there is always some kind of unsuspected fallout.

References

Julius Evola and the UR Group (2001). An Introduction to Magic: Rituals and Practical Techniques for the Magus. Rochester, VT: Inner Traditions.

Gary Lachman (2008). Politics and the Occult: The Left, The Right, and the Radically Unseen. Wheaton, IL: Quest Books.