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A Review of Martin Heidegger: Philosophy of Another Beginning by Alexander Dugin

Forty years after his death Martin Heidegger (1889 – 1976) remains a lightning-rod for controversy. Heidegger might be the central philosophical figure of the Twentieth Century, as many of his enthusiasts have claimed. He might be a polysyllabic blowhard, as Theodor W. Adorno — himself an accomplished polysyllabic blowhard — contended in his Jargon of Authenticity (1973). Whether Heidegger is one or the other, the man has exercised considerable influence over the last four decades over the philosophical discourse calling itself post-structuralism, post-modernism, or deconstruction. Quite apart from all that – the author of Being and Time (1927) has recently inveigled his name into the news again on account of his “Black Notebooks.”

These notebooks, issued in the ongoing uniform edition of his works, belong to the war-years. They appear to bolster the accusation that Heidegger invested himself heavily in National Socialist ideology. The “Black Notebooks” have not yet been translated into English although there can be little doubt that such an event is forthcoming, but a recent sympathetic study of Heidegger, by a Russian writer who is no stranger to controversy, has rather surprisingly been translated for the Anglosphere.

I refer to Martin Heidegger: The Philosophy of Another Beginning by Alexander Dugin (born 1962), translated by Nina Kouprianova (Radix / Washington Summit Publishers, 465 Pages, with an introduction by Paul Gottfried).

Dugin gained currency with the American New Right through his earlier book The Fourth Political Theory (English, 2012). Dugin identified Western Europe and the USA as the two aggressive halves of a single, ideologically driven power (“Atlantis”) that seeks global Imperium. The Fourth Political Theory has inspired vehement denunciation in Neoconservative journalism for being the blueprint of an ideological cult(National Review). Dugin for his part equates Liberalism with everything corrupt in the modern world. He hopes for active concerted subversion and suppression of liberalism, which can only mean subversion and suppression of Western Europe and the USA. Advocating an anti-liberal Russian ethnostate that reasserts its influence in Eastern and Middle Europe, Dugin earns plaudits from the American Far-Right, such as the white nationalists who run

the Counter Currents website. Any sane assessment of Dugin’s Heidegger must steer clear of this often hyperbolic crossfire, but no matter how objective the reviewer manages to be, his observations will undoubtedly provoke a hot-tempered response from one side or the other, if not both.

Dugin emerges from no vacuum: The Russian critique of the West stems from the split between Roman Catholic and Orthodox Christianity. Fyodor Dostoyevsky, whom many readers of Traditionalist leaning greatly admire, blamed Western ideas for Russia’s woes already in the mid- Nineteenth Century. Dostoyevsky’s spiritual child, the philosopher Nicolas Berdyaev (1874 – 1938), devoted his authorship to a sustained attack against what amounted, in his view, to the wicked Americanization of the planet. Ironically, Berdyaev attracted his largest audiences in French and English – Lenin had exiled him from the USSR and he lived out his life in Paris, dying there in 1948. Berdyaev’s thought, which now and again informs the Western right-wing indictment of liberalism, runs oddly in parallel with Heidegger’s, at least where it concerns the emptiness and inhumanity of the modern world. Vladimir Putin, who alludes to Berdyaev, also alludes to Dugin, who, in the National Review article quoted earlier, is supposed to be Putin’s sinister advisor – the Rasputin to his Alexandra, as it were. So much for the tangled background: In what lies the interest, if any, in Dugin’s Heidegger study?

Dugin forecasts his essential point in the book’s subtitle: The Philosophy of Another Beginning. According to Dugin, Heidegger’s opus of widest currency, Being and Time, far from summing up its author’s thought, merely consummates the philosopher’s first, but by no means most important, phase, dominated by even while departing from Edmund Husserl’s phenomenology of consciousness. Dugin narrates how Heidegger’s second phase did not begin immediately after the publication of Being and Time, but slowly gestated before expressing itself in lectures, essays, and short books beginning with the Introduction to Metaphysics (1934) and finding a larger, non- systematic form in the thematically varied meditations on essential concepts gathered together under the title of Forest Paths (1950) and in stand-alone essays from the 1940s and 50s on language and poetry.

In Being and Time, Heidegger articulated his philosophical anthropology, defining human nature as Dasein or “There-Being,” and emphasizing temporality as central to self-awareness and the cognition of the world. After the Kehre or “Turn,” Heidegger wrote less about human being and more about Being, as something prior to humanity, to which the authentic consciousness responds.

A penchant for etymological argument and quirks of orthography betoken the new approach. Heidegger begins spelling Sein or “Being” with an archaic y in place of the modern i, as Seyn.

Dugin remarks that, in addition to the new emphasis on philology and etymology, Heidegger, following up Friedrich Nietzsche’s earliest book, commences the explication of two themes: First, the achievement of the so-called Pre-Socratic philosophers of the Sixth Century BC in coming to grips with “Being”; second, the failure, with its terrific consequences, of Western metaphysics, beginning with Plato. The thesis taking up the two themes is that the metaphysical failure expresses itself as technique, which Heidegger characterizes as a seductive but virulent diminution of consciousness. Technique subordinates to itself everything or makes the attempt to do so; technique distorts and enslaves, but it never delivers its promise. Thus far Dugin’s account of Heidegger’s post-Being and Time phase rehearses nothing that readers might not find elsewhere, in idiomatic English, in the secondary literature on the topic – for example, in William Barrett’s Illusion of Technique (1976). Dugin departs from other commentators in re-emphasizing the vehemence of Heidegger’s attack on the metaphysical tradition, a destructive but unavoidable endeavor that clears the way for a new and necessary type of thinking.

The metaphysical tradition, in Dugin’s reading of Heidegger, fell into irremediable error when Plato, following the lead of Socrates, divided the world into phenomenal things and eternal forms, positing the forms as more real than the things. Dugin, glossing Heidegger, writes: “Plato, as well as Socrates before him, and Aristotle after him, is the actual name and historical legalization of the greatest catastrophe.” Concerning the “catastrophe,” again glossing Heidegger, Dugin writes of Plato how he “reduces the basic operations of cognition to clear vision and recognition of ideas, which are the heavenly models of things and phenomena.” Things and phenomena become objects. As Dugin puts it, “contact with ideas presupposes being across from them – they can only be seen in this manner.” Such a configuration inaugurates “an era of very specific rationality,” in which man “is no longer in the world,” as he was in Pre-Socratic thinking; but rather man stands “before the world,” studying it, but at the same time exiled from it and no longer participating in it.

Here is how Dugin sees it: Whereas for the Pre-Socratics, the cosmos had revealed itself vitally as that, in which consciousness participated, and from which it drew its very life; for Plato and all post- Platonic philosophers – as Dugin, taking Heidegger as his authority, upholds – existence consists of the mere “reference” of one contingent thing to another, lacking any significant structure. Thus Aristotle, far from revising Plato by rejecting the eternality of the forms, simply took the next logical

step implied by Plato’s own theory. Aristotelianism, while entirely consonant with the direction in which his teacher had taken philosophy, constituted nevertheless a decisive stage on the way to the West’s cul-de-sac of nihilism. This summary of Dugin forces an important question for the assessment both of Heidegger and his Russian commentator. Suspending the issue whether Heidegger’s critique of Plato is valid, not only is Heidegger not the unique diagnostician of a long- term retraction of Western consciousness expressing itself finally as dogmatic Nominalism or Nihilism; but neither can Heidegger claim chronological precedence among those other diagnosticians

Berdyaev, for example, was active a decade or more before Heidegger ever came to public notice. Berdyaev could see as well as Heidegger that technocracy could be nothing other than an inhuman tyranny. Aspects of Heidegger’s anti-modern critique appear in English, as well as in German Romanticism. Heidegger indeed saw himself as working in a continuum with the activity of certain poets – Friedrich Hölderlin and the Teutonic Symbolists such as Georg Trakl and Stefan George, who took up in poetry where Hölderlin left off. Heidegger wrote essays explicating poems and passages by Hölderlin, Trakl, and George. And what of Edmund Husserl (1859 – 1938), Heidegger’s teacher? Husserl’s case against scientism in The Crisis of European Sciences (1936) forecasts many elements of Heidegger’s work of the post-war period. Dugin comments that, “Heidegger’s phenomenology… is phenomenological ontology, whereas Husserl’s general thought remains within the framework of… the theory of knowledge.” Let it be said that René Guénon’s Crisis of the Modern Age (1927), contemporary to the year with Being and Time, is more compact and readable than its German counterpart.

What we might call Martinolatry hounds Dugin’s exposition. “In the very least,” Dugin writes, “Heidegger is the greatest contemporary thinker, joining the constellation of Europe’s best thinkers from the Pre-Socratics to our time.” Beyond that, “Heidegger is not only… the greatest [philosopher] of them all”; he is, according to Dugin, a prophet: “The last prophet,” “the bridge to a new philosophy”; and, as if those encomia were insufficient, “an eschatological figure” whom the encomiast regards as – taking the phrase out of Dugin’s double inverted commas – the envoy of Being itself. Even for a reader sympathetic to Heidegger’s idiosyncratic presentation, such hyperbole makes itself a stumbling block in the way of persuasion. So does the recurrent translated- to-English discussion of how Heidegger’s archaic German constructions might best be translated into Russian, which paragraphs the publisher might harmlessly have omitted from the American edition.

Dugin’s epochal Heidegger, making an end-run around the catastrophe of Platonism, Aristotelianism, and Cartesianism, seeks to recover that authentic consciousness which participated fully in Being. This herculean labor of redeeming the cognitive-existential fall of mankind entails, among many other deeds, implicating religion in that fall. Dugin writes, “Heidegger is convinced that Christian philosophy is completely enslaved by the Platonic doctrine of ideas and Aristotelian logic, which only serve the need to justify the Semitic religion.” This assertion, which Dugin takes for a fact, justifies the “condescension” with which Heidegger always treated Biblical religion and its speculative offshoots. Even Heidegger’s lectures (1921) on St. Augustine condescend noticeably.

On the other hand, it is entirely possible to agree with Dugin when he paraphrases Heidegger’s assessment of the modern trio of Descartes, Leibniz, and Kant: They rehearse old notions in recycled ways while contributing to the retraction of consciousness into a rigid framework – what Heidegger named Gestell (“Scaffolding”) and which he proposed as the characteristic mental gesture of Post-Pre-Socratic thinking, so to speak. Dugin also works within the realm of plausibility when he links scientism explicitly to the nihilistic tendency: “Scientific thinking is one of the most extreme forms of nihilist thought”; that is, “the kind of thought in which the question about the Being of beings not only fails to be raised but cannot be raise.”

Heidegger’s recovered, participatory consciousness, as Dugin reconstructs it, will root itself in a redeemed Geviert or “Fourfold.” Dugin indeed gives Part 2 of The Philosophy of Another Beginning the section-title, Das Geviert. One who comes to understand Das Geviert will also come to understand “the chasm between ontology and fundamental-ontology.” The fundamental status of Das Geviert in Heidegger’s philosophy is related to Heidegger’s hostility to Christian doctrine. Western thinking has been a case of “triplicity” since Plato, but the “new beginning” requires the passage from “triplicity” to “The Fourfold.” “It is extremely important,” Dugin writes, “to understand… that Geviert does not amount to an ontic perception of the world.” Elsewhere, Dugin writes, “Geviert is given to us like an open window to the abyss… as the greatest gift, and it is assumed that we will value it accordingly.” Das Geviert is the apocalyptic wholeness of Sky, Gods, Men, and Earth. Dugin arranges these elements in a chart where a St.-Andrews Cross joins them together, with Sky and Gods left to right atop and Men and Earth left to right below.

In “The Fourfold,” Heidegger obviously returns not only to Pre-Socratic, but to pre-philosophical terms. Something like “The Fourfold” structures the cosmos in Hesiod’s Theogony, in the Homer’s epics, in Snorri’s Edda, and in Richard Wagner’s myth-based yet philosophically informed Ring of

the Nibelung. “The Fourfold” appears in the conceits of Heidegger’s favorite poets. Under “The Fourfold,” the Sky “establishes order.” Earth serves as the stage of “presence”: “Thanks to the Earth, many things, objects, sensations become present, actual.” The Gods function as demonic messengers of Being such that their divinity endows on all of Being “a certain kind of transparent intoxication.” Dugin quickly adds that “Heidegger conceptualizes [his] ‘gods’ outside any particular religion,” as manifestations of “the ecstatic horizon of fundamental-ontology.” For his part Man, under “The Fourfold,” refuses the roles both of Cartesian subject and Marxian object-of-history; he likewise disdains the Aristotelian office of “rational animal.” Dugin’s Heidegger’s “Man” fulfills a quasi-priestly function, “as a guardian of Seyn-Being,” who embraces his “Being-toward-death.” Consciousness operates in a zone of “The Fourfold” that Dugin, taking up Heidegger’s terminology, designates as “the In-Between.”

Let us quietly take stock. That phrase, “the In-Between,” might strike an informed reader as oddly familiar. It should – and it bears on the question how original Dugin’s commentary on his master, the gnomic Swabian, really is. Consider this passage from a non-Heideggerian source: “God and man, world and society form a primordial community of being. The community, with its quaternarian structure is, and is not, a datum of experience.” For this writer, the quaternity, which is and is not a datum of experience, is therefore also not a thing, and the discussion of it is not in the realm of what Heidegger dismisses as the “ontic.” This non-Heideggerian source also remarks that consciousness can only become aware of the “quaternity” by “participation in the mystery of its being.” Because “there is no vantage-point outside existence from which its meaning can be viewed,” consciousness must take place in an in-between. The same writer also sees the history of philosophy as one of degeneration, beginning however not with Socrates but rather with his opponents, the sophists, whose medieval successors, the nominalists, led the way directly into the sopho-babble of every modern “ism.”

The writer is Eric Voegelin. The quotations come from the first page of Order and History, Volume I, Israel and Revelation (1956). In his later Science Politics and Gnosticism (1962), Voegelin characterizes Heidegger as that “ingenious Gnostic of our own time,” whose “construct of the closed process of being,” while replete in its exposition with insights about the nature of modernity, is yet a mimetic parasitism on the Christian doctrine, which it seeks to supplant. In Heidegger’s vision, as Voegelin writes, “the power of being replaces the power of God and the parousia of being, the Parousia of Christ.” Voegelin’s description of Heidegger differs minimally from Dugin’s, departing from Dugin’s only in the evaluation. Everywhere, and yet nowhere so much so as in his conclusion,

Dugin’s language waxes worshipful: “As a result of the calm, passionately indifferent acceptance, ‘not yet’ has lost the fatality of its hypnosis in Heidegger’s philosophy”; and “we are no longer fighting in its snares, feeling nervous, but we accept it as it truly is, trying to find the sign of another Beginning with solemn gratitude in the last smouldering ruins of Western culture.”

Martin Heidegger: The Philosophy of Another Beginning is not a book to be casually set aside. It contains much valuable provocation – and much that beckons siren-like to anyone who turns in disgust from the modern liberal self-parody. When Dugin denounces “Americanism and the Planetary Idiocy of Liberals,” one relishes the rhetorical scourging: “[The] man of the global world, a Liberal, accepting and recognizing the normativity of ‘the American way of life,’ is [a] kind of patented idiot from the philosophical and etymological point[s] of view, a documented idiot, an idiot parading his foolishness above his head like a banner.” Dugin’s study must count as a useful refresher-course in Heidegger, which will send the student back to Heidegger’s own texts. Curious parties should nevertheless approach The Philosophy of Another Beginning skeptically, maintaining vigilance against its author’s rash enthusiasm for his subject.

Martin Heidegger: The Philosophy of Another Beginning by Alexander Dugin is available here.

Dugin’s language waxes worshipful: “As a result of the calm, passionately indifferent acceptance, ‘not yet’ hasThomas F. Bertonneau earned a Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from the University of Califonia at Los Angeles in 1990. He has taught at a variety of institutions, and has been a member of the English Faculty at SUNY Oswego since 2001. He is the author of three books and numerous articles on literature, art, music, religion, anthropology, film, and politics. He is a frequent contributor to Anthropoetics, the ISI quarterlies, and others. 4 thoughts on “A Review of Martin Heidegger: Philosophy of Another Beginning by Alexander Dugin” 1. Martin Sellner July 12, 2015 at 9:15 am Thanks for this interesting review. First of all: I hate conversations about Heidegger in english (also the book was painful to read, although the translation is great). " id="pdf-obj-6-16" src="pdf-obj-6-16.jpg">

Thomas F. Bertonneau earned a Ph.D. in Comparative Literature from the University of Califonia at Los Angeles in 1990. He has taught at a variety of institutions, and has been a member of the English Faculty at SUNY Oswego since 2001. He is the author of three books and numerous articles on literature, art, music, religion, anthropology, film, and politics. He is a frequent contributor to Anthropoetics, the ISI quarterlies, and others.

4 thoughts on “A Review of Martin Heidegger: Philosophy of Another Beginning by Alexander Dugin”

Thanks for this interesting review. First of all: I hate conversations about Heidegger in english (also the book was painful to read, although the translation is great).

  • I think you brought up a very interesting subject: the fine line between Heidegger and traditionalism. The Difference between the Seinsfrage and the ideas of Guenon, Evola, Voegelin, one might even add Jung, Spann, etc.

Not really caused by Dugin but in a strange “synchronicity”, a lot of young people in the german new (and identitarian movement) right are now reading Heidegger (I’m one of them). And If you’d ask my friends, they would surely call me guilty of “Martinolatry”

  • I think Heideggers Philosophy is opposed to the “metaphysical” project of traditionalists, as much as

it is against the heroic nihilism of NIetzsche. His question for being refutes the conservative notion

of “Being as cause/fundament” (Sein als Grund), as well as the revolutionary one “Being as will” (Sein als Wille).

  • I think what you are saying is that everything Heideggers says is a overcomplicated version of basic traditionalist doctrines. And with Voegelin you are accusing him of an “Existenzialist”, ripp of of


  • I think thats a total misconception. Heideggers Beeing is “not a god”. Its a “horizon” for thinking and asking. Its a “possibility space” for those events and “revelations” that form the history of beeing.

The onto-theological structure of metaphysics, that has a dialectic tendency in itself to lead to progress and modernity (as also Nietzsche showed in his genealogical critique) forces us to see being as a personal God, or a abstract universality.

But Being is “more” than god. Just like in premodern religions the “demiurgos” was not identitcal with the cosmos, or ishvara is not brahma, a saving god is possible in the history of being but he is not being itself i suppose.

However all this are speculations and attempts of systematizations, that Heidegger ultimatly rejects. While most traditionalists are in fact all in all “neoplatonics” that must see modernity as a fatal failure of Man and are somehow “ignoring” the event of “gods death”, Heidegger is in my eyes the only one who asks for truth, sense and god accordingly, to our “ontological” era.

I think you brought up a very interesting subject: the fine line between Heidegger and traditionalism.Reply  People of Shambhala July 12, 2015 at 11:58 am " id="pdf-obj-7-28" src="pdf-obj-7-28.jpg">

Thomas F. Bertonneau asked us to post the following response:

Mr. Sellner is generally appreciative of the review, for which I thank him, but he registers a cavil when he writes: “I think what you are saying is that everything Heidegger says is a overcomplicated version of basic traditionalist doctrines. And with Voegelin you are accusing him of an ‘Existenzialist,’ rip-off of Christianity.”

Actually, in citing Adorno in my first paragraph, I went a good way in excusing Heidegger from the charge frequently made against him that he expresses old ideas in deliberately overwrought sentences and unnecessary coinages. On the other hand, I do contend against Dugin concerning the degree of Heidegger’s originality: Dugin thinks that Heidegger is unique and unprecedented (except perhaps by the Pre-Socratics) whereas I think that Heidegger is much less original and unprecedented than his claimants, whether Dugin or anyone else, makes out.

As Mr. Sellner must know, Heidegger explicitly disclaimed the label of “Existentialist.” Nevertheless, that is how many perceptive people interpret him, including his one-time and much-abused student Hans Jonas, in the epilogue to whose Gnostic Religion, the former teacher prominently figures – and where he is also treated with surprising dignity considering the nature of the broken relation. In the question whether Heidegger really is an Existentialist, I have no stake. I can take him as he is, without worrying about labels. I therefore exonerate myself from “accusing [Heidegger] of an’ Existenzialist’ rip-off of Christianity.” To the extent that Heidegger was hostile to Christianity, I part company with him – and in respect of some of his pronouncements feel motivated to criticize him. In failing to understand Christianity, however, Heidegger was a typical modern thinker, so that his judgments should not surprise anyone.

I cited Voegelin precisely to criticize Dugin’s claim that Heidegger’s thought resembles no one else’s or that he uniquely diagnosed modernity and appreciated the Pre-Socratic achievement. While I indeed value Voegelin far above Heidegger, I am unbothered by the opposite assessment and would not dream of evicting anyone from judgments long in formation and heavily invested.

Thomas F. Bertonneau asked us to post the following response: Mr. Sellner is generally appreciative ofReply 2. People of Shambhala July 18, 2015 at 7:15 pm " id="pdf-obj-8-14" src="pdf-obj-8-14.jpg">

People of Shambhala contributor Michael Presley has asked us to post the following comment on the article:

As the standard Amazon review goes, “I have not read this book, but…” So with that in mind I do not want to be unfair either to Dugin, or Professor Bertonneau; it is easy to be unjust in the context of a book review where space and arguments must be necessarily limited. I would, however, like to point out that Dugin is (albeit not really originally) correct in his critique of Plato, at least as far as the schism between the phenomenal world and the realm of forms is concerned. That is to say, and after Plato, in what way are phenomenal “things” real if they are but a confused representation of something metaphysically higher?

Aristotle, for his part, resolved to fix it by integrating a thing’s essence (that is, it’s essential nature) into the very phenomenon itself, making things composites comprised of both form and matter, the latter existing in a state of pure potential until actualized by its formal aspect. Both then make the phenomenal substance. Of course form had to be immaterial, separable from that which it informs, and in some cases at least able to exist or survive the substances’ dissolution.

None of this is very happy, but they are an attempt to explain rationally what can’t be explained, and in a world of pretty bad, their explanations are actually pretty good.

However it is, the idea that our present “nihilistic alienation” can be thrown back on either Plato or Aristotle has to be greatly tempered. One cannot be so definite. It is just as much a problem derivative from other sources, often sources that are not, strictly speaking, philosophical at all. For instance, if alive today, both Greeks would have been surprised to find out that human nature(s) are mostly contingent (if such nature is said to even exist), and they would be quite chagrined to find themselves held responsible for our modern-day understandings. Yet against this reductionist move (the name of Nietzsche always comes up in this regard as one of the usual suspects), our current “denial of human nature” is more likely a result of the rise of technology, and the subsequent destruction of the traditional patriarchal family. Traditional hierarchical relations are rent, and to cite just one example from modern drone warfare, it is now as likely for a woman to be an efficient killer as any man. Indeed, as a group women may even have more of an aptitude for it.

Anent Dugin’s disdain for “man as rational animal,” it must be remembered that Aristotle was writing at a time when “man” meant something different than what it means today. It signified only a few, mostly Greek men. And even so, Aristotle was speaking a formal definition, and not a description of

any particular man, or even race of men (apart from Greeks). Like the point made earlier, the teacher of “natural slaves” would have been very surprised to find out that his notion of a “universal type” could be imputed equally to all men, even those who on their face seem hopeless. And he would have been dumbfounded to know that with only the help of just a little liberal education, along with the elimination of a variety of “isms” and “phobias” (i.e. racism, sexism, homophobia, feminism,etc), everyone could be both individual and equal.

Next, it is doubtful that what is taken for Christian philosophy (in Dugin’s sense) has much to do with the present state of affairs within the Catholic church. To even bring it up seems rather quaint and anachronistic at this late stage of the game.

Anent Guenon. He moved away from philosophy proper because he understood that it offered little practical interest. At the same time, as Professor Bertonneau writes, his analysis of modernity was more succinct than anything ever written by Heidegger. But so is Evola’s, a man who took a little different track. The latter’s critique of Heidegger (and Nietzsche) must be considered by anyone approaching the modern project. As an aside, and however we parse it, both Heidegger and Evola will never be very well mainstreamed due to their respective associations (as they were or were not) with the German Reich of the last century. One could in this regard easily point out the hypocrisy on the left vis-à-vis their intellectuals, but some things are just not even worth the effort.

Anent Putin. His use of “philosophy” has to be tempered by the his KGB schooling, and the demands of realpolitik. Still, when one looks at leaders of major countries one has to be surprised at the Russian’s tolerance for, if not embrace of, traditionalism, especially the Orthodox church. One can also see something similar in Xi Jinping, where a Confucian revival of sorts is taking place in China. Contrast this with the West, where the big news is how a man pretending to be a woman is such great a thing. So we have it. Two erstwhile communist regimes move inward, while the West continues to plumb the depths of individual “freedom.” Perhaps the first person to truly understand the implications of liberal individualism, Thomas Hobbes, realized that once a people have “rights” the only thing that can ever hope to restore the resulting social chaos is for them to immediately give up their rights (the so-called individual’s Right of Nature) to a sovereign who is charged with keeping the peace. It is a paradox, and a seeming contradiction that few today understand very well. We in the West have yet to understand it, however if it is not understood soon, the sovereign we get will not be the sovereign we want.