Gary Lachman |
Last night I had the pleasure of hearing Gary Lachman speak
about his work, Dark Star Rising: Magick & Power in the Age of Trump (2018). His presentation, along with the Q&A
afterword and the post-presentation conversations that followed have prompted some
thoughts on my part that I’ll describe here with the understanding that they’re
initial conjectures and notes that demand further elaboration and refinement.
Broadly speaking, Lachman’s book is about the rise of Donald
Trump and the—shall we say—unusual forces that may have—or claim to have—aided
in his rise. Lachman is a student of the consciousness, culture, and the Western
esoteric tradition. In an attempt to sum up his project (an intention rife with
the potential for misuse or misunderstanding or just plain error), I’d say that
he’s interested in the way that world works as a result of the mind (and minds)
or Mind or God or Spirit or Consciousness—that is, some form of consciousness,
from the quotidian mind (the thoughts of an individual) to the “metaphysical” mind
or a Mind or Consciousness that surrounds we humans and from which we draw our
thoughts. The “esoteric” part of this project references the fact that in
pre-modern times esoteric knowledge was limited to elites (initiates) because
this knowledge in some measure deviated from the dominant religious and other
belief systems of society and that, therefore, risked the well-being if not
survival of adherents to these unorthodox beliefs. In modernity, this knowledge
has become in some measure hidden or shunted aside because it is “un-“ or “pre-“scientific
according to the dominant world-view.
In his book and talk, Lachman considers whether American
New Thought via Norman Vincent Peale (“The Power of Positive Thinking”) may have
influenced Trump from a young age. He examines the development of “chaos magic”
as a trope adopted by some alt-right adherents to explain Trump’s surprising ascent
to power. (They claim to have “willed” it.) And Lachman looks at the Russian
side of things, with Russian politics, culture, and technological manipulations
serving as a testing ground and template for Russian meddling in U.S. politics
that helped elect Trump. (My review of Dark Star provides more details.)
During his talk, Lachman had recourse to drop the “H-bomb” of Trump
analogies: Hitler. Lachman is very circumspect and reluctant to reference this
analogy, but he was right to do so. Such an analogy can be—like so many
historical analogies—overused and overvalued. Analogies only work on a
gradient and are tools at arriving at understandings; they’re not definitive
prototypes. For example, don’t tell me that Trump is a “fascist” (as I heard
someone remark after the talk). He’s not; he has no independent, organized paramilitary
to back him up as Hitler had the SA, the SS, and the Nazi Party as
a whole. Republicans aren’t Nazis (at least not yet).
But what do have Trump and Hitler (and Mussolini—whom I think
might prove the better Trump prototype) have in common? All of them were
compelling orators for their target audiences. All of them qualify as “master
persuaders” in Scott Adams’s term (which I use with some reluctance given mydeep skepticism about Adams’s “master persuader” trope viz. Trump and persuasion).
Think what you may of this unholy troika, they seduced many persons into their
projects. (Trump’s project has always been primarily to make money, with
politics only an afterthought. Hitler and Mussolini developed political ambitions
at much earlier ages.) So, do any of these three succeed by any “magic?” I’m
going to say “yes.”
R.G. Collingwood (d. 1943) |
Now, here I bring in my current intellectual crush, R. G.
Collingwood. Collingwood devotes an entire chapter (4) to magic in his The Principles
of Art (1938). But Collingwood understands magic not as a form of entertainment
(stage magic, illusionists) nor as an effort to summon spirits from the vasty
deep, nor (most importantly), as bad science. Rather, Collingwood writes:
I am suggesting that these emotional effects, partly on the performers themselves, partly on others favourably or unfavourably affected by the performance, are the only effects which magic can produce, and the only ones which, when intelligently performed, it is meant to produce. The primary function of all magical acts, I am suggesting, is to generate in the agent or agents certain emotions that are considered necessary or useful for the work of living; their secondary function is to generate in others, friends or enemies of the agent, emotions useful or detrimental to the lives of these others. (67)
A magical art is an art which is representative and therefore evocative of emotion, and evokes of set purpose some emotions rather than others in order to discharge them in the affairs of practical life. (69).
Published 1938 |
Collingwood goes on to note that contemporary propaganda (of both
the Left and the Right) is an example of contemporary magic.
It seems to me, based on Collingwood’s analysis, that any form
of persuasion, even classical rhetoric or Plato’s dialogues, can serve as a
form of magic. This magic, by ritual performance or by image or by music and
verse or political spectacle, is all around us. We’re all attempting magic in
some measure or other a great deal of the time.
Collingwood doesn’t provide any discussion of ritual magic or “spooky
action at a distance,” and he largely ignores the obvious “spooky action at a
distance” that technology provides us. In Hitler’s time, his speeches
(performances) could be broadcast by radio and heard by those not present at
the same place as him. Today, we can have live visual and audio images, or we
can summon the specter (for instance, Trump) by a few clicks of our smartphone
wherever we are or he is. Magic indeed! Lachman alluded to this role of technology
in his talk and Dark Star, but it’s a topic that bears a great deal more
consideration. Modern communication technologies are a form of magic in the
sense of magic as spooky action at a distance*: the specter can be summoned
almost anywhere at practically any time.
Lachman observed that the magician can be seen as casting a
spell on the one (often his or her own self, as in much of ritual magic); the
guru as casting a spell over the few (devotees); and the demagogue as casting a
spell over the many. All can be classed (at least potentially) as examples of
Colin Wilson’s “right man,” someone who cannot tolerate any sense of fallibility
or questioning of his [sic] project that is encased in a singularity of focus. (Sound
familiar?)
Enough for now. Comments, criticism, and suggestions welcome.
* Don’t take the phrase “spooky action at a distance” as in
any way pejorative. I believe that Einstein coined the term as a knock on
quantum physics, but I believe that he lost that battle. And I can think of everyday
occurrences that demonstrate “spooky action at a distance;” for instance, hypnosis
and the placebo effect (which, although it involves a ritual act and requires
the subject to participate, the result is not explained by the attributes of the
inert substance provided to the subject). Suffice to say that this rabbit hole
can go very deep.