The Necessity of War and Descent into the Abyss
Plato's Cave - "Only the dead have seen the end of war"
We all have heroes — figures who serve as faithful beacons, illuminating the pathway through moral quandaries and existential dilemmas. My personal pantheon includes the Greek philosopher Plato, known for his foundational work in Western philosophy; Darya Platonova Dugina, a Russian philosopher; General Douglas MacArthur, a key military leader during World War II, and Friedrich Nietzsche, the influential German philosopher who challenged traditional notions of morality.
These monumental figures, some more widely known and appreciated than others, stand not merely as intellectual titans but as architects who have shaped our understanding of the world and our place within it. As seers in their own time, their insights today help us penetrate the fog of lies that obscures reality.
Their teachings offer not just knowledge but wisdom crucial for navigating these trying times. These heroes embody the virtues and intellectual rigor necessary to contend with the chaos of existence. They inspire us to think deeply and to act with courage and resolve when faced with life’s myriad challenges. Like the unsung and the revered in our personal lives, heroic figures are the ‘wind beneath our wings.’ They spur us to rise above the ordinary and mundane.
The enlightenment brought forth by our heroes goes beyond mere motivation; it acts as a fundamental nourishment for our spiritual life. Just as heroes push us to transcend the ordinary, there is a parallel in the spiritual realm where the journey from nascent understanding to profound wisdom is pivotal. St. Paul, in his epistle to the Corinthians, articulates a similar trajectory of growth.
I could not address you as people who live by the Spirit but as people who are still worldly. I gave you baby’s milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for solid food. In fact, you are still not ready, for you are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and dissension among you, are you not worldly? Are you not walking in the way of man?
1 Corinthians 3:1-4
In this piece, we aim to deliver some 'solid food'— substantive philosophical insights from figures both renowned and relatively unknown in the West.1 Alongside Paul of Tarsus, Plato, General Douglas MacArthur, and Friedrich Nietzsche, I include Darya Platonova Dugina, to whom this essay is dedicated in memoriam.
Darya Dugina, a burgeoning philosopher who was tragically killed at 29 by a terrorist bomb likely intended for her father, Russian philosopher Alexander Dugin, has emerged as a prominent voice in the realm of political philosophy. Both she and her father ardently advocated for a multipolar world order, a vision reflecting a shared global hegemony that diverges from the unipolar influence dominated by Western ideologies.
Alexander Dugin's seminal work, The Fourth Political Theory published in 2009, formed the groundwork for this novel political ideology.2 This theory seeks to transcend the traditional paradigms of liberal democracy, Marxism, and fascism, which have historically dominated global political thought. Central to the Dugins’ theory, both father and daughter, is the concept of Dasein, a term borrowed from Heidegger that emphasizes 'being' over individualism, class struggle or national identity.
By focusing on existential authenticity, the Dugins aimed to synthesize the positive elements of these older ideologies while addressing their limitations and failures. This philosophical approach resonates with the thematic underpinnings of our essay, which explores the necessity of confronting and transforming the darker aspects of our reality to achieve a deeper understanding and genuine sense of self.
Darya Dugina's philosophical work resonates deeply with Plato’s allegory of the cave, where enlightenment involves not just an ascent toward light but also a crucial descent back into darkness to foster illumination and transformation. She articulated this dual movement as essential for a scholarly understanding of the human condition. Dugina writes in her book, Eschatological Optimism:
In the myth of Plato’s cave, the ascent from the bottom of the cave to the light does not happen without a subsequent descent from the light back into the darkness to illuminate it. Many philosophers do not realize it or lose sight of it, paying attention only to the climb, how to free yourself from the cave stumps, stop being prisoners, etc. But in Plato, in Procl, or in the example of the life of Julian the Apostate, we see the need for war and descent in this inferior world to put it in order, to transform it, because without such action no inner order is possible. This is the metaphysics of war: being a warrior of Light, one descends into darkness to fight it and prevail over it, to transform it into Light. This is the fundamental thesis of platonism.
Reflecting on Dugina's profound insights at such a young age, I am reminded of my own less philosophically inclined youth, dominated by rock and roll and simpler thoughts. Her intellectual maturity and clarity present a stark contrast to the typical diversions of youth, underscoring a depth of understanding and commitment to existential and metaphysical questions.
Let’s revisit the cave from Plato’s Republic, and ponder the daunting task of escaping it — assuming, of course, that one would even want to. Today's elites, like Facebook’s Zuckerberg, construct multimillion-dollar technological and ideological 'caves' that offer safety and comfort while perpetuating illusions. Yet, in what we call the End Times, maintaining an optimistic outlook is essential, as Darya detailed in her book.
In Plato’s allegory, a prisoner breaks free from the cave where shadows flicker on the walls, only to discover the stark reality of the world beyond — a seemingly endless, expansive realm illuminated by the stars themselves. This escape brings not only enlightenment but a heavy burden: the responsibility to return and share this newfound knowledge with those still trapped in the cave. The returned prisoner faces profound sorrow, empathizing with the ignorance of his fellow captives who mistake shadows for reality.
These prisoners, comfortable in their familiar darkness, might view the enlightened one as a disruptor, even as a threat. The societal resistance he symbolizes can lead to metaphorical, and sometimes literal, death for the truth-bearers. Thus, the journey toward enlightenment reveals a universal truth: knowledge carries with it the weight of responsibility and the potential for great personal cost.
Dugina argues that war, despite its inherently destructive nature, acts as a crucial catalyst for both societal and individual transformation. She posits that conflict shatters established norms, dismantles existing structures, and compels a fundamental reevaluation of our core assumptions. In this upheaval, cultural narratives that shape behavior are reformed or abandoned
An aspect of her thought that I admire most is her ability to integrate the mystical tradition as a counterpoint to modern rationalism. This tradition, which transcends the material and empirical, offers a deeper, more profound understanding of the nature of existence — dasein.
Mysticism delves into the ineffable, the numinous and the hidden dimensions of existence. It encompasses experiences of unity, transcendence and direct communion with the divine or cosmic forces. Mysticism ascribes this sublime belief: “And we know that God works all things together for the good of those who love him, who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)
History has taught us that this theological assertion applies also to war.
In war, entire civilizations confront their Jungian shadow aspects — the primal instincts, power dynamics and existential vulnerabilities. Through this process, societies evolve, ideologies clash and new paradigms emerge. The initial birth pangs of our emerging new Aquarian Paradigm have been unnerving.
General Douglas MacArthur
The soldier above all others prays for peace, for it is the soldier who must suffer and bear the deepest wounds and scars of war. War, the most malignant scourge of mankind.
In the bloodied annals of warfare, legendary figures like Alexander the Great, Hannibal, Julius Caesar, Napoleon and George Patton have all carved their indelible names. Yet, in my estimation, none surpasses MacArthur, particularly when one considers his dual legacy as both a conqueror and the transformative ‘proconsul’ of Japan. His stewardship in Japan set him apart from others such as Napoleon, who faltered in their roles as occupiers.
A humorous anecdote: When informed that a prostitute had won election to Japan’s new parliament with the highest vote tally among all candidates, MacArthur reportedly quipped, “she must have an incredibly loyal clientele.”
In war, civilizations and countries are forced to confront their shadow aspects. Considering MacArthur’s tenure as the Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers (SCAP) in post-war Japan, he oversaw the democratization and reconstruction of Japan. His tenure also embodied Darya Dugina’s metaphysical view that war compels societies to grapple with their darker impulses. Post-war Japan serves as a prime example of such transformation. General MacArthur made Japan’s plight much easier; he was a gifted statesman and leader.
Under MacArthur’s guidance, Japan underwent profound changes, transitioning from a militaristic empire to a pacifist democracy. This transformation involved a thorough reevaluation of societal values and structures, much like the philosophical 'descent back into the cave' described by Darya Dugina. MacArthur’s reforms in education, politics and industry can be seen as a direct confrontation with Japan’s historical and cultural shadow, turning it towards a more equitable and democratic society.
As Howard Cosell might have dramatically phrased it, World War II dealt a healing blow to a 'veritable plethora of shadow aspects.' The war’s conclusion heralded the rise of the United States and the Soviet Union as bipolar hegemons, defining the new global order. This bipolarity marked a significant shift: Western Civilization, spearheaded by the U.S. as a global economic powerhouse, evolved, while a stillborn Eurasian civilization succumbed to 45 years of communism.
These shifts underscore the profound impact of war on the world stage, demonstrating how conflict can reshape entire civilizations, forcing them to confront and often integrate their shadow aspects in the pursuit of a new societal order.
Since the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991, the West has enjoyed unchallenged hegemony, a period during which it has accrued a shadowy 'cosmic debt.' This debt encompasses not just economic or environmental deficits, but also moral and cultural ones resulting from decades of policies and practices that assumed Western values and systems were universally applicable.
Today, the consequences of this legacy — marked by hubris and arrogance — are becoming increasingly apparent, manifesting as both internal crises and external challenges.
The rise of powers within Eurasian Civilization and the Global South represents a formidable challenge to Western dominance, signaling a shift towards a multipolar world order. These regions are not just passively emerging; they are actively questioning and often rejecting the imposition of Western ideals, which they view as an extension of a colonialist past. This resistance sets a trap for the West, one that it seems all too willing to fall into. We shall explain in the next section.
This emerging geopolitical tension underscores the broader theme of transformation discussed earlier in the essay. Just as individuals and societies must confront their shadow aspects to evolve, so too must civilizations like the West face the repercussions of their historical actions and attitudes.
The Thucydides Trap
The term was popularized by American political scientist Graham T. Allison. It draws inspiration from the ancient Athenian historian Thucydides, who suggested that the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta in 431 BC was inevitable due to Sparta’s fear of Athens’ growing power.
Allison found that in 12 out of 16 historical instances, similar rivalries led to war. This pattern suggests that as powers perceive threats to their stature or security— whether these perceptions are justified or not — conflict becomes a more likely outcome.
The lessons of World War II, though initiated under different circumstances involving multiple global powers and complex alliances, reflect elements of this trap where defensive postures and mutual suspicions escalated into a broader conflict. Today, with the rise of powers in Eurasia (Russia) and the Global South (China, India and Brazil) challenging Western dominance, similar tensions are palpable.
We can boast neither of the political nor the military leadership capable of meeting these challenges.
Given today’s competitive state of affairs, MacArthur likely would have counseled diplomacy, the art of compromise, and statesmanship, attributes and skills the West either eschews or does not possess. Instead, the West subjects its populace to technocratic authoritarianism and a ‘Great Reset,’ with its attendant horrors of transhumanism and depopulation. This conjures up juicy souvlakia for Thucydides.
In the lead-up to its direct involvement in World War II, and while still negotiating with Japan, the United States led by Franklin Roosevelt, creatively navigated its own Neutrality Act through the Lend-Lease program. The Neutrality Act, initially designed to prevent U.S. involvement in a foreign war, was circumvented to provide substantial support to allies like the United Kingdom, France and the Soviet Union. By supplying these nations with military aid, the U.S. aimed to bolster their defenses against Germany and Italy.
China also received aid from Lend-Lease in support of its war effort against Japan. The total Lend-Lease aid to all U.S. allies amounted to over $1-trillion in today’s dollars.
From the perspective of the Thucydides Trap, this assistance could be seen as an effort by the U.S. to maintain the global balance of power. By preventing the complete domination of one side (the Axis), the U.S. sought to avoid a situation where a rising power (Germany or Japan) could challenge its position and therefore avoid a second world war. Of course, Pearl Harbor changed all of that.
“Only the dead have seen the end of war”
During a 1962 address to West Point cadets, General Douglas MacArthur, himself a former commandant of the academy, popularized the phrase, 'Only the dead have seen the end of war,' attributing it to Plato. However, historians and scholars have debated its origin, as it is not found in the recorded works of the ancient philosopher.
This sentiment finds a similar echo in the writings of the Spanish-American philosopher George Santayana, who noted, “Only the dead are safe; only the dead have seen the end of war.” These reflections, though separated by decades and different philosophical traditions, converge on an understanding of war’s persistent reality.
Another hero of mine, Friedrich Nietzsche, introduced the idea of eternal recurrence in his body of work, particularly in Thus Spoke Zarathustra. The concept suggests that the universe and all events within it recur infinitely, an idea that can be seen as a metaphysical echo of the seemingly endless cycle of war.
Eternal recurrence disrupts the linear narrative. If everything recurs infinitely, there is no ultimate endpoint or linear trajectory to history. Like Dugina, Nietzsche couples this with the idea of amor fati — the love of fate — which advocates for embracing all aspects of life as necessary and even affirming them, regardless of their nature.
Never before in human history has organically produced chaos or the Will to Evil existed on a global scale. Much of today’s chaos is manufactured by a cabal of demonically possessed unelected elites hellbent on one world governance.3 Unlike in previous eras, today's technology enables chaos to be orchestrated on an unprecedented scale. This truth indicts modern governments and media, arguing they are more compliant and less committed to truth than in the past, contributing to a landscape where manipulation is made possible on a massive scale..
Nietzsche’s notion of Übermensch, a kind of superhuman with an evolved, spiritually-enlightened consciousness, describes the souls who embrace eternal recurrence. These are our contemporary alt-warriors (not woke). They affirm life, even its darkest aspects. Facing eternal return, Übermenschen live authentically, without resentment or regret.
In a metaphorical and spiritual sense, these Übermenschen 'don the full armor of God,' preparing to combat the evil agents of artificial chaos.
Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the evil one’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground.
Ephesians 6:11-13
Eternal recurrence, as envisioned by Nietzsche, imbues each moment of existence with profound existential weight. The dead, having reached the end of their earthly conflicts, have seen the end of war and, in doing so, have transitioned from the cycle of eternal recurrence to one of eternal rest.
They fought the good fight, embracing the intensity of life’s challenges. We, the living, vow to continue their struggle in omne tempus — for all time. Amen, amen.
In ‘The West‘ we include North America, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Iceland and Israel based on cultural, historical and geographical factors.
The Fourth Political Theory (article)
