David Myatt

David Myatt

Given his weird Faustian peregrinations, much has been written (mostly negatively, and both past and present) about David Myatt, although there is no denying that he was, and is, “a British iconoclast who has lived a somewhat itinerant life”, {1} and that he is “one of the more interesting figures on the British neo-Nazi scene since the 1970s” {2}.

That Myatt’s post-2011 philosophy of pathei-mathos is firmly rooted in both European paganism and Greco-Roman culture {3} is further evidence that his roots – despite his experiential forays into Islam (both Sunni and Shia) and despite his post-2011 denunciations of ‘extremism’ – still are in Western culture. As is so evidenced in Myatt’s translations of and commentaries on the classic Western text titled Corpus Hermeticism. A text important to and part of, the European Renaissance and which texts vivified scholars such as Marsilio Ficino, Renaissance potentates such as Cosimo di Giovanni de Medici, and scientists such as Isaac Newton.

Indeed, Myatt in his Preface to his forthcoming translation of tractate XI of the Corpus Hermeticism, writes that:

“The intention of these translations of mine of various tractates of the Corpus Hermeticum is provide an alternative, and esoteric and essentially pagan Greco-Roman, approach to such ancient texts and hopefully renew interest in them beyond conventional and past interpretations which – based on using terms such as God, Mind, and Soul – makes them appear to be either proto-Christian or imbued with an early Christian weltanschauung.” {4}

In addition, his much-neglected poetry {5} stands as a paeon to both the European land of England and to the life of a Western mystic.

That Myatt’s poetry, his translations of Greek classics {6}, and his pagan philosophy of pathei-mathos, are neglected is perhaps tribute indeed to how so many Western peoples are now, and have been for decades, in thrall to the ethos and propaganda of the anti-Western Magian and their savants.

So, is David Myatt an intellectual, Faustian, and mystic, icon of the pagan soul of the West?

RS
2017

{1} Jon B. Perdue: The War of All the People: The Nexus of Latin American Radicalism and Middle Eastern Terrorism. Potomac Books, 2012. p.70-71.

{2} The Observer, February 9, 2003.

{3} The Mystic Philosophy Of David Myatt. ISBN 978-1523930135. Also available at: https://regardingdavidmyatt.files.wordpress.com/2016/10/mystic-philosophy-myatt-v1a.pdf

{4} https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/2017/02/20/tractate-xi-extract/

{5} qv. https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/2011/09/21/relict-a-selection-of-poems/

{6} https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/about/greek-translations/


David Myatt 1998

David Myatt

Perhaps Words Are The Problem

Of the many metaphysical things I have pondered upon in the last five or so years, one is the enigma of words. More specifically, of how nomen – a name, a term, a designation – can not only apparently bring-into-being abstractions (and their categories) but also prescribe both our thinking and our actions, with such abstractions and such prescription so often being used by us, we mortals, to persuade, to entreat, to manipulate, to control, not only ourselves but through us others of our human kind. Whence how denotatum can and so often does distance, distract, us from the essence – the physis – that empathy and its wordless (acausal) knowing can reveal and has for a certain mortals so often in past millennia revealed.

For we seem somehow addicted to talk, to chatter – spoken and written – just as we assume, we believe, so often on the basis of nomina that we expand our pretension of knowing beyond the local horizon of a very personal wordless empathy breeding thus, encouraging thus, such hubris as has so marked our species for perhaps five thousand years. With such hubris – such certitude of knowing – being the genesis of such suffering as we have so often inflicted on others and, sometimes, even upon ourselves.

Would that we could, as a sentient species, dispense with nomen, nomina, and thus communicate with others – and with ourselves – empathically and thus acquire the habit of acausal wordless knowing. There would then be no need for the politics of propaganda and the rhetoric of persuasion; no need – no ability – to lie or pretend to others. For we would be known – wordlessly revealed – for who and what we really are. And what a different world that would be where no lie, no deception, would work and where guilt could never be concealed.

For some, a few mortals, such a wordless knowing is already, and has been for centuries, the numinous reality, born as such a personal reality is either via their pathei-mathos or via their innate physis. Which is perhaps why such others often secrete, or desire to secrete, themselves away: an isolated or secluded family – rural, or island – living, perhaps, and perhaps why Cistercians, some mystics, some artists, and others of a similar numinous kind, have saught to dwell, to live, in reclusive or communal silence.

There is – or so there seems to me to be according to my admittedly, fallible, uncertitude of knowing – a presencing of the essence of almost all religions here in such a knowing of the value, the mysterium, of silence. Of that which we so often in our hubris forget, have forgotten, or never known: that wordless, that empathic, that so very personal acausal knowing, that personal grief and personal suffering – that the personal awareness of the numinous – so often engenders, so often breeds, as has been so recounted for millennia in our human culture of pathei-mathos.

Given this culture – so accessible now through institutions of learning, through printed books, through art, memoirs, and music, and via this medium of this our digital age – shall we, can we, learn and apply the learning of that culture to significantly change our lives, thus somehow avoiding that periodicity of suffering which for millennia our hubris, our certainty of knowing born of nomen and nomina and the resultant abstractions, has inflicted and continues to inflict upon us?

I do so wish I had an answer. But for now, all I can do is dwell in hope of us en masse so evolving that such empathy, such wordless knowing, has become the norm.

David Myatt
2016

Extract From A Letter To A Friend


Source: https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/perhaps-words-are-the-problem/


David Myatt

David Myatt

David Myatt: Relict

How, will, should, David Myatt be remembered? Premature and recent rumors of his death struck a chord with some of us who – whatever our age, whatever our place of dwelling, and whatever our political inclinations – have somehow in some manner (positive or negative) been affected by his life and by his writings.

But someday, and perhaps soon – give or take a few months, a few years, or perhaps a decade or more – he, now a reclusive uncommunicative mystic, will most assuredly be gone from this our mortal realm. So how should, will, Myatt best be remembered?

For myself I choose his poetry. Or rather that compilation of his poems – titled Relict – which he himself compiled. For there is humanism, a numinosity, the ethos of our Western civilization, presenced in such semi-autobiographical poems as are collected there. As well as the quintessence of what, post-2012, became his mystical, his very personal, his decidedly Western, ‘philosophy of pathei-mathos’.

Thus if he is to be remembered it should, perhaps, be for such so very human, so very civilized, poems. For such poems are such an eloquent rebuke to those who have attempted – or who for private or for political reasons may well continue to attempt – to besmirch him.

Relict
(pdf)

RS
2016


Related:

° Four Forgotten Poems


David Myatt

David Myatt

The Mystic Philosophy of David Myatt
(pdf)

Contents:

I. A Modern Mystic: David Myatt And The Way of Pathei-Mathos
II. A Modern Pagan Philosophy
III. Honour In The Philosophy Of Pathei-Mathos
IV. An Overview of The Philosophy of Pathei-Mathos
Appendix. A Note On Greek Terms In The Philosophy Of Pathei-Mathos


the-days-consecration
A Delightful Place To Be

In many ways, England at this time of year – around mid-Spring – is a delightful place to be, for there are Spring flowers, hedgerows in bloom, trees coming into leaf; the burgeoning Dawn Chorus, and quite often warmer and sunnier days heralding perhaps another Summer of dreams to be remembered, happily remembered, as the dark longer nights and the cold of Winter return as they return and we – perhaps with family, partner, friends – hunker ourselves down to await such warmer days, again.

Such simple delights, of such a childful joy; delights and a simplicity that I personally have come to value more and more as pathei-mathos and increasing age has slowed me in both body and thought, bringing – it seems – a certain repose, certainly a need for personal humility, for expiation, and certainly a feeling concerning, another intimation of, what for us humans is most valuable, most human, and possibly should be most desired. Which is the joy of a personal love shared; the companionship of family, friends; and that simple quite humble way of living arising when our life is just our and their life, when our concerns just our and their concerns, when our hopes and dreams are just our and their hopes; the life, the concerns, the hopes, the dreams, of those whom we love, we trust, and with whom we share the passing of our daily lives.

For decades I – flawed, hubriatic, dissatisfied, often angry, and often inclined toward violence – rejected such manifestations of our humanity as I pursued one and then another suffering-causing agenda; as I – extremist activist, agitator – stupidly arrogantly placed some abstraction, some ideal, some ideology, before personal love, before compassion, before empathy, before kindness, before family, before wu- wei. And it was during those four decades of hubris that I scribbled away, writing thousands and thousands of pages – propaganda, essays, ideological tracts, pamphlets – in praise of and trying to justify the extremisms I upheld and fought for. Worse, I not only supported violence and propagated hatred but pridefully, temerariously, saught to revise some abstractions and manufacture new abstractions in my attempts to motivate and inspire others and bring closer the downfall of ‘the system’ I then so disliked in the hope that some revolution, some violent struggle or other, might somehow and in some miraculous way bring into being a ‘new world’ founded on some ideological ideal and which ideal was always harsh and always founded on prejudice and intolerance, on some divisive division between ‘them’ and ‘us’. In the process, of course, I caused suffering. To loved ones, to family, to friends, and to others; to so many others, known or personally unknown to me. As I wrote earlier this year:

“I have no excuses; the failure of decades was mine. A failure of compassion, empathy, honour. A failure as a human being. There are no excuses for my past, for deeds such as mine. No excuses for selfishness, for a hubris of personal emotion. No excuse for deceit, deception, lies. No excuse for extremism, for racism, for the politics, the religion, of hate […]

I would like to believe – to hope – that this [my] personal, this interior, change, possibly evident in some recent writings of mine, and possibly also evident in my [philosophy of pathei-mathos] is positive, good; in some way counter-balances the hubris of my past, and is thereby some expiation, some propitiation, for at least some of the suffering caused. But it is for others, not for me, to judge whether that is so.” [1]

David Myatt
2nd April 2012

[1] The quotations are from the compilation of essays and letters entitled Meditations on Extremism, Remorse, and The Numinosity of Love.


Image credit: The Day’s Consecration by Richard Moult

David Myatt

David Myatt

The pdf file below contains Myatt’s fourteen page essay Exegesis and Translation, first published in 2013. In the essay Myatt asks pertinent questions about revealed religions and the reliance the majority of believers of such revelations have on translations of their ‘sacred texts’ and the exegesis of others, writing in one memorable passage how

“there seems to be, in revealed religions and most conventional spiritual ways, a rejection of pathei-mathos in favour of the wisdom said to be contained in the texts and thus in the teachings of the founder(s) of the religion/spiritual way, and – in the case of revealed religions – in the writings/edicts of those who have been vested with or who have acquired a certain religious authority, and – also in the case of revealed religions – how such pathei-mathos, to be accepted at all, has to be judged by criteria developed from such texts and/or developed from interpretations of such texts.”

This essay therefore has relevance to Myatt’s philosophy of pathei mathos. It reveals also Myatt’s erudition, with quotations in their original language from the New Testament, the Koran, and Boethius – together with Myatt’s translations – as well as quotations from Beowulf, John Gower, and Morte Arthure.

While Myatt incorporated parts of the essay into some of his book-length works – for instance part of the Translation and Al-Quran section of the essay was added to the appendix of his Poemandres translation {1} – it is informative to read the complete essay, with his comments under the Ontology, Exegesis, and Pathei-Mathos heading in Part One of particular interest.

Exegesis And Translation
(pdf)

 

°°°

{1} David Myatt. Poemandres, A Translation and Commentary. Third Edition, 2014. ISBN 978-1495470684.


 

A pdf version of this article is available here: https://regardingdavidmyatt.files.wordpress.com/2017/03/myatt-strange-life-v2.pdf

David Myatt

David Myatt

The Strange Life Of David Myatt

One of the interesting things about the strange life of David Myatt is that there are several different interpretations of both his motives and his personality. The three most common interpretations – advanced and commented on by academics, by journalists, and others – are:

(i) That he is Anton Long, founder of the Occult group the Order of Nine Angles (ONA, O9A), and an “extremely violent, intelligent, dark, and complex individual” {1} who is “paramount to the whole creation and existence of the ONA,” {2} whose “Nazism and Islamism are merely instruments for the ONA’s underlying sinister esoteric plots.” {3}

(ii) That his somewhat itinerant adult life has been a Faustian, experiential, quest, with him drifting toward an unknown destination.

(iii) That he has been on a life-long ‘sinister-numinous’ quest, both Occult and practical (esoteric and exoteric), and has now discovered the wisdom and the self-understanding that is the goal of such a quest.

According to the first interpretation, his poetry {4}, his published private letters {5} and post-2011 writings about his philosophy of pathei-mathos are either a clever ploy by a real-life Trickster to disguise his real ‘sinister’ nature or were written by someone else, or some others, as a deception.

According to the second interpretation – advanced by Myatt himself and some of his supporters – such writings are genuine and document the interior struggles, the vacillation, and the learning from experience, that occurred from around 2002 until 2010; struggles, vacillation, and a learning that he makes mention of in both his autobiography Myngath and in his essay The Development Of The Numinous Way.

According to the third interpretation – advanced by some supporters of the O9A – such writings document the feelings and the understanding germane to someone who, questing for decades along the O9A Seven Fold Way, has entered and passed beyond the Abyss and thus discovered Lapis Philosophicus.

In respect of which interpretation of Myatt’s life is the most plausible, it is my contention that Myatt’s poetry, his published private letters, and his post-2011 writings about his philosophy of pathei-mathos, can provide the answer: that they hold all the clues necessary to arrive at a satisfactory and rational solution.


The Necessary Research

What is most surprising about those who advance and write about and believe one of the above explanations is that it appears that none of them have actually studied, in detail, and critically commented upon, Myatt’s poetry, his published (pre-2009) private letters and his post-2011 writings about his philosophy of pathei-mathos.

For among the questions that should be asked, in relation to such works, are the following. (i) What do they express in terms of personal feelings and weltanschauung?  (ii) What do they reveal about the writer and his style of life? (iii) Are they internally – and over the time span under consideration (2002-2011) – consistent? (iv) How do they relate to Myatt’s life at the time they were written? (v) Are they all consistent with Myatt’s own explanation of his life as described in his autobiography Myngath {6} and in his post-2011 essays such as The Development Of The Numinous Way? (vi) Could someone who faked the letters – for whatever reason – maintain a consistency of feelings for so many years? {7}

Is what Myatt explained in Myngath the truth of his life or the sly words of a trickster? He wrote:

“For the reality of my past nine or so years is not that of some sudden life-changing revelation, but rather of a profound inner struggle whose genesis lay years before – in my experiences with and passion for women; in my time in a monastery; in my ever-growing love for Nature and my involvement with English rural life; in Sue’s illness and her tragic death.

This intense struggle was akin to an addiction, and I an addict addicted to abstractions. A struggle between my empathy, my understanding, my pathei-mathos, and my life-long belief, itself an abstraction, that somehow in some way I could make a positive difference to the world and that such abstractions as I adhered to, or aided or advocated were or could be a beginning for a better world, and that to achieve this new world certain sacrifice were, unfortunately, necessary.

A struggle which gave rise to what became – refined, and extended, year after year – The Numinous Way, and which struggle was an interior war to change myself, to actually live, every year, every month, every week, every day, suffused with an empathic awareness and a desire not to cause suffering; the struggle to abandon abstractions.

For nine years or so this interior struggle wore me down, until it gradually faded away. It was akin to cycling up a long steep mountain climb in mist and drizzly rain, struggling on against one’s aching body and against the desire to stop and rest; and not being able to see the end, the summit, of the climb. And then, slowly, the drizzle ceases, the mist begins to clear, the road becomes gradually less steep, and one is there – in warm bright sunshine nearing the summit of that climb, able to see the beautiful, the numinous, vista beyond, below, for the first time, and which vista after such an effort brings a restful interior peace, the silent tears of one person who feels their human insignificance compared to the mountains, the valleys below, the sky, the Sun, and the vast Cosmos beyond: the wyrdful nature of one fleeting delicate mortal microcosmic nexion which is one’s own life.”

Post-2009 Letters And Writings

In 2012 Myatt was contacted, via e-mail, by a journalist employed by the BBC and, over subsequent months, they exchanged correspondence via that medium. In 2013 Myatt published edited extracts from some of this correspondence in Part Three of his book Understanding and Rejecting Extremism: A Very Strange Peregrination (ISBN 9781484854266). He also included some of this correspondence – and some other correspondence with a few other individuals around the same time (2011-2012) – in a posting on his weblog under the title Just My Fallible Views, Again. {8}

This correspondence is not only quite remarkable, given the various assumptions made about Myatt since at least the 1980s, but also is a significant development of the feelings expressed in his pre-2009 private letters. In those pre-2009 letters a certain lofty (even an arrogant) presumption of knowing – of having understood himself and the world – emerges time and time again, as well as certain pontifications based on various abstractions, while the later letters are replete with a certain humility. For instance, in one of these 2011-2012 letters he writes:

“The problem in the past had been me, my lack of understanding of myself and my egoism. It was my fault: not the place, not the time, not the people, for I so desired with that arrogance of youth to exchange this paradise, here, for those ideas, the idealism, the abstractions, I carried around in my prideful hubriatic head. Seldom content, for long, since happiness came with – was – the pursuit, or the gratification of my personal desires. So destructive, so very destructive. So hurtful, inconsiderate, selfish, profane […]

In a letter sent to the BBC journalist he wrote:

[My] recent propensity to be somewhat subsumed with a certain sadness [arose] from not only pondering on such questions as pathei-mathos, the causes/alleviation of suffering, and the nature of religion, expiation, and extremism, but also from understanding, from feeling, just how much suffering I personally have caused during my extremist decades and knowing that had it not been for the tragic death of a loved one some six years ago I would most probably have continued my career as a suffering-causing extremist.

He was even more explicit in another letter to a different correspondent and dated November 2012:

“The reason why I now do not – and have no desire to – “get involved with social change” (or to “go out into the world and try to give something back” as another correspondent recently expressed it) is the reality of me having made, and knowing and feeling I made, so many mistakes, shown such poor judgement, been so arrogant, so selfish, for so many decades – for most of my adult life. Given this reality, I simply do not trust myself anymore not to cause suffering, not to make even more mistakes, not to show poor judgement again. Just as I know my responsibility, my blame, for those my past mistakes and their human consequences. Thus, why would I want to inflict myself on the world anymore? […]

For the simple honest truth is that I now feel, in my very being, that I have no right to, can find no justification for me to – beyond that necessitated by personal honour in the immediacy of the moment – interfere in the lives of others, in however small a way even if my initial motives might be (or seemed to me to be) good. For who I am to judge, decide, things beyond the purvue of empathy and a very personal honour? I am just one fallible exceedingly error-prone human being with a long proven history of impersonal interference, of hubriatic, suffering-causing, and selfish, deeds. Someone who does not trust himself anymore and who values and tries to cultivate wu-wei.”

In a rather remarkable letter dated December 2nd 2012, he explained that:

“In respect of religion, there seems to have grown within me, this past year, a feeling regarding prayer, especially contemplative prayer, or rather that quiet way of being when – with no expectation of or belief in God – no words are desired or required and one is aware of the numinous in such an unaffected way that there is a calmness emanating not from within – not caused by our knowing or feeling of self – but from that ineffable vastness beyond which includes us and all the life that seeps into us, there in our stillness: emanations, of not only the dreams, the hopes, the love, the sadness, the sorrow, the grief, the pain, the joy, the tragedy, felt, known, experienced by we humans millennia after millennia, but also of the being, the essence, of the other life around us, here as Nature, and elsewhere, which, as we, ‘hath but a short time to live’.

A feeling, an intimation, of perhaps in some small way now understanding the Latin Opus Dei – Officium Divinum – as a needful daily reminder of our needful humility, as the plaintive cry Miserere Mei, Deus so reminds, and as the Namaz of Islam also so reminds with its Ruku, Sajdah, and recitation of Subhana Rabbiyal a’la. A needful daily reminder that we are transient beings, prone to dishonour, selfishness, and hubris, but who can be loving and kind, and beings prone to the charisma, the temptation, of words, either our own or those spoken or written by others. A reminder that we can so easily forget, have so often forgotten, that gentleness, that modest demeanour, that understanding, which derives from an appreciation of the numinous and also from one’s own admitted uncertainty of knowing and one’s acknowledgement of past mistakes. An uncertainty of knowing, an acknowledgement of mistakes, that often derive from πάθει μάθος.”

All these sentiments, these feelings, are so consistent over so many years, chime so well with his poetry, with the feelings that run through his pre-2009 letters, with his autobiography Myngath, and with post-2011 writings about his philosophy of pathei-mathos, that it seems inconceivable to me that they are artful constructions – fakes – by someone else (or some others) or the product of some ‘sinister trickster’ who has consciously adopted a certain persona in order to try and fool people. Also, what they express is a mysticism, a reverence for and an appreciation of the numinous, so at odds with the ethos and the practice of Satanism – of whatever variety – that it is also inconceivable that they were written by a Satanist or even by a practising Occultist.

My conclusion, therefore, is that his somewhat itinerant adult life has been a Faustian, experiential, quest, with him drifting, stumbling, toward an unknown destination, which destination he has finally reached and which destination he in his post-2011 writings and letters has striven to describe.

JRW
2016

Notes

{1} Raine, Susan. The Devil’s Party (Book review). Religion, Volume 44, Issue 3, July 2014.

{2} Senholt, Jacob. The Sinister Tradition. Paper presented at the international conference, Satanism in the Modern World, Trondheim, 19-20th November, 2009.

{3} Per Faxneld: Post-Satanism, Left Hand Paths, and Beyond in Per Faxneld & Jesper Petersen (editors) The Devil’s Party: Satanism in Modernity, Oxford University Press. 2012, p.207

{4} DW Myatt. Relict: Some Autobiographical Poems. 2014. ISBN 9781495448386.

{5} Letters dating from 2002 to 2009 are currently (September 2016) available at https://regardingdavidmyatt.wordpress.com/selected-letters/ with a few of these (and other) letters included in Part Two of Myatt’s book Understanding and Rejecting Extremism: A Very Strange Peregrination, published in 2013, ISBN 9781484854266.

Some letters dating from 2011 were included in Part Three of the aforementioned book.

{6} David Myatt. Myngath: Some Recollections of a Wyrdful and Extremist Life. 2013. ISBN 9781484110744.

{7} While those who believe the ‘fakery theory’ might object that there is no proof the letters were written on the dates given – that is, they might all have been faked within a relatively short period of time – the evidence indicates otherwise. For many of the letters were published on the website of a Myatt supporter from 2005 onwards, as the following link reveals: http://web.archive.org/web/20050205011512/http://www.geocities.com/davidmyatt/

The letters that are in the pdf compilation {5} and also available in that web archive, and in some subsequent archives, include the following: (i) Preco preheminencie, (ii) A Fine Day in Middle June, (iii) One Hot Sunny Day, Almost Mid-July; (iv) The Buzzards Are Calling Again; and so on.

{8} https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/about/just-my-fallible-views-again/

°°°°°°°

Appendix

Some Quotations From The Letters of David Myatt (2002-2009)

[Untitled] February 2003

How foolish, to forget my own understanding: to forget the remembering, the pain, that shaped, changed, evolved such empathy as I possessed so much that – when alone as now in such places as this – I knew the past, felt the future, and, burdened by such knowing, tried hard to keep away the tears of so many centuries of sorrow, so little insight lived.

So hard, it seems, to renounce the passion of a life, as when a relationship of lovers falters, stalls, restarts to stall again; seldom a clean and sudden leaving. Feelings, memories, linger. And there is guilt. Let us not forget the guilt, the hope; the guilt of a duty abandoned […]

Tomorrow, I could have been elsewhere, in a teeming city, talking words of war as if my old hope of inspiring noble deeds to aid those far less fortunate than me was still real in a modern urban world too tired of silence, patience, and too afraid of numinous stillness. I choose not to go; not to speak, and instead will – the goddess permitting – sit here again suspended in time between brown, green and blue […]

If I have anything real to leave in remembrance, let it be such words as these: not the strife; not the anger; not the deaths; not the agitation for action. These are the words of a Spring, newly born between Sun and earth, bringing joy to a man whose hands, back and face have borne the cold toil of outdoor work in Winter.

I hope I do not forget this warmth, this beauty, again…

°°°°°°°

One Week Beyond Mid-Spring, 2003

It was hope – and another lost love – which took me, once and a decade or more ago, to Egypt to travel in the desert as if such traveling might bring a forgetful peace. It did not work, despite the grim toil of that long journey, and it was only when I returned to Cairo that I forgot. I remember it so well: I had gone, out of politeness, to a concert to see and listen to some singer which some Egyptian I had met enthused about. And there was such beauty there, in her, her voice, in the music, as she sang of many things. Such sadness; such joy, such an embracing, for me, of another world, another culture. I was at home there, listening, feeling, with the audience as the beautiful Samira Said sang, and ever since – in times of personal sadness, rejection, such as this – I remember her concert, or listen to her songs {1}, reminding me of how I am not alone, of how others have, and do, suffer, and have cried, and laughed, and sang of their problems, personal, political, social and otherwise. But most of all I remember that there is another world out there of different, vibrant, cultures, of good people striving in their daily mostly toiling lives with hope for a better more honourable world for themselves, their family, their children, their land.

1) In a recent letter Myatt added: “In the past few years she has changed her style somewhat, less Arabic, more Western. While this new style is interesting, some – myself included – prefer her earlier songs and recordings.”

 

°°°°°°°


[Untitled] April 2003

There is, of course, peace here, while the warm Sun lasts and there is some physical tiredness from the hours of physical work, and the very early, Dawn, start. But there is also not only an undercurrent of sad loneliness – for she whom I love has gone, to another – but also an intimation of the past when action, violence, in the world to change the world, brought that exhilaration which true, honourable, warriors know and often seek and which is an end to such loneliness…..

So, to be honest, there is temptation, even here, amid this quiet rural splendour: the temptation to be again what I was when action, a goal, a seeking, an assignment, made me a harmony of body, mind, soul, and life became suffused with a glory redolent of the gods because life was lived on a different, higher, level. There were then no obstacles that could not be overcome; no doubts; not even any self- reflexion.

Is this, then, just one of those periods in my life – of months, maybe a year – when I quietly drift, suffused with the numen, before returning to that other world, of duty, of exploration, of challenges, where lives the honourable warrior? I do not believe it is one of these periods, but I could be wrong; I have been wrong in the past.

°°°°°°°

We Have Been Led Astray, May 2003

How many times have I myself known the simple, gentle, warmth of a love shared? And how many times have I turned away from that toward what I assumed or believed or felt was a duty, thus hardening myself? So much lost, for so little. So much suffering and sadness created by me, in others, in the world: and for what? So much sadness and suffering caused within myself by such a loss.

The truth I have painfully, slowly, discovered in this, the fifth decade of my strange wandering life, is that there is no noble, no good, no honourable duty to anything or anyone which can contradict such love, or reject it, or place it second. What honourable, noble, duty there is can only arise from such love or join with that love in a natural, dwelling, way as when two people, a family, settle to dwell on the land and through their dwelling, their labour, their toil, their love, they create a way of life which is in harmony with all other life, with Nature, and especially with their own loving, rational, honourable, human nature.

This is the quiet numinous way of restraining ourselves by concentrating on what is beyond words, beyond ideas: the way that some of the beautiful music of the past several hundred years is an intimation of, reminding us as it can of the greatest suffering, the greatest joy, and of our own place among Nature, in the Cosmos.

This is the quiet return that is needed – beyond all rhetoric; beyond all propaganda; beyond all ideas, political, religious, otherwise – and beyond all the forms that constrain and try to mould our human nature to some abstract theory or construct. For what is human is this love, this symbiosis between such love, such dwelling, such a gentle seeking yearning born of our questioning nature. All else – all other types of yearning, seeking, striving, duty – detract us and distance us from, or even destroy and negate, our true human nature, and from that evolution of this nature of ours which great music, great Art, great literature, rational ethical Science itself, provide us with an intimation of, a gentle yearning for.

°°°°°°°

The Buzzards Are Calling Again, 2004

Many times, like the growing tree, there by that breeze, I have been swayed – swayed by the sleeping warrior within, who, awakened, has tempted me. So much dishonour in this world; so much I had to again strive to avoid involvement, ready as I was to go to defend the oppressed against the ignoble oppressor. It was, for me, the battle against dishonour that mattered, that called, that awoke – the living of the life of a warrior.

It was not the ideology, not the ideas, not the cause, or even the goals, for these were and are mere causal forms which do not, cannot, contain the essence itself even though, sometimes, they may presence part of it, as a Buzzard, circling, presences one small part of Nature’s life. What mattered then was the striving – the exhilaration of living which presenced honour in a moment, in an explosion of moments, so raising life up, upwards, towards a new living, a new way, nexion as it was to the essence itself, manifest as this essence was, is, can be, in the honour of a warrior. What mattered, then, was such a presencing by someone to redress the balance and bring some honour back into this world. Thus was I, am I, through such diverse presencing, such diverse involvement, a mystery to some, but not to myself… So I was swayed, tempted, and several times became alive again, a different alive as I forsook this quiet reclusive peace to travel, to engage, to live for a while a different way. And now, my work here having ended, I strain again against myself, feeling, feeling the presencing of that past, of those moments of life’s ecstasy.

What of my words, this past year, born of such peace, of such silent wisdom as has kept me here in this place? Have they changed anything, anyone? I do not think so. Are they then as flowers thrusting forth in Spring, born only to die each year, seeding themselves with the hope of rebirth in some future? I do not know, and shall lay this pen aside to close my eyes to I lie on my old coat upon the growing greening grass of one more burgeoning beautiful English Spring.


 

numinous-religion

Perhaps I remain, partially at least, a Catholic in spirit – in my heart – though not, most of the time, in words and deeds. For while I intellectually and empathically disagree with the teachings of the Catholic Church on many matters – such as homosexuality, contraception, and on divorcées who have remarried being excluded from Holy Communion (unless they have resorted to a Papal Annulment) –  I still find myself in my inner weakness not only sometimes frequenting the Lady Chapel of my nearest RC Church – lighting a candle, kneeling, and in reverent silent contemplative prayer remembering, in the felt presence of The Blessed Virgin Mary, those now dead loved ones such as my mother and father and Sue and Francis, and those other women hurt by my selfishness – but also traveling several times a year to where Gregorian chant is sung and where the Tridentine Mass is celebrated, bringing as such Latin chant and such a Latin Mass still do, in me, a renewed awareness of the numinous and a renewal of such humility as I strive – and sometimes still so often fail – to remember and feel.

There seems to me no intricate and difficult interior problem here derived from my somewhat paganus way of pathei-mathos, for that way is essentially – for me, even born as it is from my own pathei-mathos – rather intellectual, a perceiveration, lacking as it does something outward, practical, supra-personal, and communal, to presence the numinous and thus affect one’s very being in a spiritual way. So I seem to now exist – and have for several years existed – between two worlds: apparently emotionally needing something practical, living, and spiritual beyond myself and my intellectualism, and yet knowing in a rather unemotional manner that it is the way of pathei-mathos, and not Catholicism, which is my weltanschauung.

No intricate and difficult interior problem, no inner dichotomy, because I know the many flaws in my weltanschauung and in myself; and one cannot intellectually create some-thing – manufacture some-thing devoid of ψυχή – to presence the numinous. For it seems to me that such a presencing has to evolve, organically, over causal time, because it has been wordlessly presenced in other mortals and then kept alive because also felt by some of a newer generation. Will – can – such a presencing of the numinous arise from that way of pathei-mathos? Most probably not, intellectual and so very personal as it is.

So the need for some inner, numinous, sustenance remains; for fulfilling as a lot of classical music (such as the Cantatas of JS Bach) is, and fulfilling as walks alone in wild and rural Nature are, I sense a yearning in me for something more: some wordless intimation of the Divine which betakes me so far away from my still egoistic self that I am both awed and humbled again, as I often was in Winter wandering a darkened cloister as a monk in that quiet contemplative time between Matins and Lauds.


David Myatt
2015

Extract From A Letter To A Friend

Source: https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/about/a-path-to-humility/a-catholic-still-in-spirit/


David Myatt

David Myatt

 

It is interesting and perhaps instructive to compare the stories of Joe Pierce, a former member of the National Front (NF), and David Myatt, founder of the 1970s NDFM (National Democratic Freedom Movement) and the 1990s National-Socialist Movement (NSM), convert to Islam, and public supporter of terrorism.

In summary, Pierce gained a certain notoriety in the late 1970s as editor of the NF zine Bulldog; was twice sent to prison for short periods for inciting racial hatred, became a friend of Nick Griffin, moved to Northern Ireland for a while to support Protestant groups against the IRA, then later on (as so many reprobates seem to do) found God, became a practising Catholic, was fêted by the Catholic Church, by the media, and by Establishment figures, gave public lectures, wrote about his experience, and was given a sinecure in academia. His life story is told in Race with the Devil: My Journey from Racial Hatred to Rational Love published by St. Benedict’s Press, and he is written about in glowing terms by journalists and academics alike.

In summary, Myatt was active in neo-nazi politics for some thirty years, was sent to prison twice for violence, organized and led a gang of criminals, founded the short-lived but violent NDFM, became for around two years a Catholic monk before returning to neo-nazi politics; was a member of Combat 18, founded and led the NSM; is notorious for writing the terrorist manual that inspired the London nail-bomber David Copeland; became “England’s principal proponent of contemporary neo-Nazi ideology and theoretician of revolution” {1}; has been accused of being the founder of the Occult group the Order of Nine Angles (O9A); converted to Islam and publicly supported al-Qaida and the Taliban, wrote one the most detailed defences, in English, of suicide attacks (an article used by the terrorist group Hamas), translated Ancient Greek literature, became an apostate from Islam, developed his own mystical philosophy centred about empathy and compassion. He wrote about his life in his autobiography Myngath, published in 2013 {2} and has written extensively about why he rejected extremism in books such as Understanding and Rejecting Extremism: A Very Strange Peregrination, published in 2013.

Unlike Pierce, Myatt – despite his more interesting and more violent past, his more diverse experiences over some forty years, his greater notoriety, his extensive writings as a neo-nazi ideologue, his far greater involvement with terrorism – was and is shunned by Establishment figures, is ignored by academics, and when mentioned by journalists or in mainstream books it is often in a derogatory and/or prejudiced manner and often accompanied by the unproven allegation of him being involved with the O9A.

Why the disparity, given that both by their own admission are reformed racists who regret their extremist pasts? Why the disparity in their treatment by the Establishment especially as Myatt is considered as having been “one of the more interesting figures on the British neo-Nazi scene since the 1970s” {3}{4}{5} whose active involvement with extremism lasted for some forty years while Pierce was a minor figure on the far-right whose involvement with extremism lasted for a far shorter period of time.

My surmise is that the disparity is due to the fact that Pierce is now part of the Establishment – a publicly repentant sinner who has accepted the Christian God and who continues to write, and continues to publicly speak about, what the Establishment approves of – while Myatt is a recluse whose mystical philosophy (the way of pathei-mathos) is essentially pagan. In addition, there is (i) the fact that Myatt has made – both as a neo-nazi and as a radical Muslim – powerful and influential enemies whose mottos are “Never again” and “Never forget, never forgive”, and (ii) that Myatt’s neo-nazi writings (despite his disavowal of them) still resonant with some people within the neo-nazi community, and (iii) that so many people within the modern Satanist and Occult movements continue to believe (without any evidence) that Myatt is Anton Long and the founder of and the driving force behind the subversive, anti-Establishment, Order of Nine Angles.

Myatt thus seems to have become, by some individuals involved with some sub-cultures (occult and otherwise) not only some sort of iconoclastic anti-Establishment figure but also disliked and reviled by many more individuals around the world who have apparently developed a prejudice against him. Thus Pierce is given the benefit of the doubt, and believed, while Myatt is not.

Unless and until there is a critical, scholarly, biography (or two) of Myatt then this prejudiced view of Myatt by so many people is unlikely to change in any significant way. But what is certain is that his many detractors do aid the growth of the now well-established ‘Myatt mythos’.

RS
July 2016

{1} Michael, George. The New Media and the Rise of Exhortatory Terrorism. Strategic Studies Quarterly (USAF), Volume 7 Issue 1, Spring 2013.
{2} Myngath: Some Recollections of a Wyrdful and Extremist Life. ISBN 978-1484110744. A review of Myngath is here: https://regardingdavidmyatt.wordpress.com/a-review-of-myngath/
{3} The Observer, February 9, 2003.
{4} Arkadiusz Sołtysiak. Neopogaństwo i neonazizm: Kilka słów o ideologiach Davida Myatta i Varga Vikernesa. Antropologia Religii. Wybór esejów. Tom IV, (2010), s. 173-182
{5} Jeffrey Kaplan (ed.). David Wulstan Myatt, in Encyclopedia of White Power. A Sourcebook on the Radical Racist Right. AltaMira Press, Walnut Creek, CA 2000, p. 216ff; p.514f


David Myatt

 

For well over two decades many individuals and some academics have assumed that ‘Anton Long’ is a pseudonym of David Myatt and that Myatt was the founder of, and may still be involved with, the Order of Nine Angles (ONA, O9A).

In addition, a few fanatical and/or obsessed and/or maladjusted individuals, have – and (such is their physis) always anonymously and always via the medium of the internet and for well over a decade – set up “anti-Myatt” internet blogs, websites, and posted interminable and voluminous messages on forums and in the comments sections of other internet blogs, about Myatt; always making derogatory remarks about him and the O9A, often (and laughably) accusing him of various crimes and activities, and sometimes even posting (mostly bad) photo-shopped images of him in various situations.

In some ways, this attention and focus on Myatt is a testament to his iconoclasm {1}, to what an academic {2} described as his complex character, to what another academic termed his “global odyssey which took him on extended stays in the Middle East and East Asia, accompanied by studies of religions ranging from Christianity to Islam in the Western tradition and Taoism and Buddhism in the Eastern path,” {3}, to how he allegedly “managed to enter the scene of grand politics and the global ‘War On Terror’, because of several foiled terror plots in Europe that can be linked to [his] writings,” {4} to why he is considered “England’s principal proponent of contemporary neo-Nazi ideology and theoretician of revolution,” {5} and why he is regarded as “a dangerous man” {6}.

However, what is astonishing is that no one – academic or otherwise – has so far bothered to study, and to rationally, in a scholarly manner, comment on his post-2012 ‘philosophy of pathei-mathos’, on his post-2009 letters, on his voluminous post-2009 personal writings, and on his poetry, despite all of these being freely available on his personal weblog {7}.

For if these items are studied then not only does a new, consistent, picture of Myatt emerge but they also call into question the decades-long assumptions of him being Anton Long and of still being involved with the O9A.

The picture that emerges of David Myatt is of a reclusive mystic, of someone whose philosophy of pathei-mathos is expiative, and who now devotes himself to abstruse, metaphysical, matters, to translating ancient Greek literature, and to, as a poet, pondering the meaning of our existence.

That said, it’s now back to my Quinta Vintage Port…

RS
2016

{1} Jon B. Perdue, The War of All the People: The Nexus of Latin American Radicalism and Middle Eastern Terrorism. Potomac Books, 2012. p.70-71.

{2} Susan Raine. The Devil’s Party (Book review). Religion, Volume 44, Issue 3, July 2014, pp. 529-533.

{3} Jeffrey Kaplan. Encyclopedia of White Power: A Sourcebook on the Radical Racist Right. Rowman & Littlefield, 2000. p. 216ff; p.512f.

{4} Jacob Senholt. Secret Identities in The Sinister Tradition, in Per Faxneld and Jesper Petersen (eds), The Devil’s Party: Satanism in Modernity. Oxford University Press, 2012

{5} George Michael. The New Media and the Rise of Exhortatory Terrorism. Strategic Studies Quarterly (USAF), Volume 7 Issue 1, Spring 2013.

{6} Simon Wiesenthal Center: Response, Summer 2003, Vol 24, #2.

{7} https://davidmyatt.wordpress.com/