Secret Societies And Subversive Movements Part 17

The question of the system to which I shall henceforth refer simply as Illuminism is of such immense importance to an understanding of the modern revolutionary movement that, although I have already described it in detail in _World Revolution_, it is necessary to devote a further chapter to it here in order to answer the objections made against my former account of the Order and also to show its connexion with earlier secret societies.

Now, the main contentions of those writers who, either consciously or unconsciously, attempt to mislead the public on the true nature and real existence of Illuminism are:

Firstly, that the case against Illuminism rests solely on the works of Robison, and of Barruel and later Catholic authorities.

Secondly, that all these writers misinterpreted or misquoted the Illuminati, who should be judged only by their own works.

Thirdly, that in reality the Illuminati were perfectly innocuous and even praiseworthy.

Fourthly, that they are of no importance, since they ceased to exist in 1786.

In the present chapter I propose therefore to answer all these contentions in turn and at the same time to make further examination into the origins of the Order.

Origins of the Illuminati

That Weishaupt was not the originator of the system he named Illuminism will be already apparent to every reader of the present work; it has needed, in fact, all the foregoing chapters to trace the source of Weishaupt's doctrines throughout the history of the world. From these it will be evident that men aiming at the overthrow of the existing social order and of all accepted religion had existed from the earliest times, and that in the Cainites, the Carpocratians, the Manichaens, the Batinis, the Fatimites, and the Karmathites many of Weishaupt's ideas had already been foreshadowed. To the Manichaeans, in fact, the word "Illuminati" may be traced--"gloriantur Manichaei se de caelo illuminatos."[494]

It is in the sect of Abdullah ibn Maymun that we must seek the model for Weishaupt's system of organization. Thus de Sacy has described in the following words the manner of enlisting proselytes by the Ismailis:

They proceeded to the admission and initiation of new proselytes only by degrees and with great reserve; for, as the sect had at the same time a political object and ambitions, its interest was above all to have a great number of partisans in all places and in all cla.s.ses of society. It was necessary therefore to suit themselves to the character, the temperament, and the prejudices of the greater number; what one revealed to some would have revolted others and alienated for ever spirits less bold and consciences more easily alarmed.[495]

This pa.s.sage exactly describes the methods laid down by Weishaupt for his "Insinuating Brothers"--the necessity of proceeding with caution in the enlisting of adepts, of not revealing to the novice doctrines that might be likely to revolt him, of "speaking sometimes in one way, sometimes in another, so that one's real purpose should remain impenetrable" to members of the inferior grades.

How did these Oriental methods penetrate to the Bavarian professor?

According to certain writers, through the Jesuits. The fact that Weishaupt had been brought up by this Order has provided the enemies of the Jesuits with the argument that they were the secret inspirers of the Illuminati. Mr. Gould, indeed, has attributed most of the errors of the latter to this source; Weishaupt, he writes, incurred "the implacable enmity of the Jesuits, to whose intrigues he was incessantly exposed."[496]

In reality precisely the opposite was the case, for, as we shall see, it was Weishaupt who perpetually intrigued against the Jesuits.

That Weishaupt did, however, draw to a certain extent on Jesuit methods of training is recognized even by Barruel, himself a Jesuit, who, quoting Mirabeau, says that Weishaupt "admired above all those laws, that _regime_ of the Jesuits, which, under one head, made men dispersed over the universe tend towards the same goal; he felt that one could imitate their methods whilst holding views diametrically opposed."[497]

And again, on the evidence of Mirabeau, de Luchet, and von Knigge, Barruel says elsewhere: "It is here that Weishaupt appears specially to have wished to a.s.similate the regime of the sect to that of the religious orders and, above all, that of the Jesuits, by the total abandonment of their own will and judgement which he demands of his adepts ..." But Barruel goes on to show "the enormous difference that is to be found between religious obedience and Illuminist obedience." In every religious order men know that the voice of their conscience and of their G.o.d is even more to be obeyed than that of their superiors.

There is not a single one who, in the event that his superiors should order him to do things contrary to the duties of a Christian or of a good man, would not see an exception to be made to the obedience which he has sworn. This exception is often expressed and always clearly announced in all religious inst.i.tutions; it is above all formal and positively repeated many times in that of the Jesuits. They are ordered to obey their superiors, but it is in the event that they see no sin in obeying, _ubi non cerneretur peccatum (Const.i.tution des Jesuites_, part 3, chapter I, parag. 2, vol. i., edition de Prague).[498]

Indeed, implicit obedience and the total surrender of one's own will and judgement forms the foundation of all military discipline; "theirs not to reason why, theirs not to make reply" is everywhere recognized as the duty of soldiers. The Jesuits being in a sense a military Order, acknowledging a General at their head, are bound by the same obligation.

Weishaupt's system was something totally different. For whilst all soldiers and all Jesuits, when obeying their superiors, are well aware of the goal towards which they are tending, Weishaupt's followers were enlisted by the most subtle methods of deception and led on towards a goal entirely unknown to them. It is this that, as we shall see later, const.i.tutes the whole difference between honest and dishonest secret societies. The fact is that the accusation of Jesuit intrigue behind secret societies has emanated princ.i.p.ally from the secret societies themselves and would appear to have been a device adopted by them to cover their own tracks. No good evidence has ever been brought forward in support of their contention. The Jesuits, unlike the Templars and the Illuminati, were simply suppressed in 1773 without the formality of a trial, and were therefore never given the opportunity to answer the charges brought against them, nor, as in the case of these other Orders, were their secret statutes--if any such existed--brought to light. The only doc.u.ment ever produced in proof of these accusations was the "Monita Secreta," long since shown to be a forgery. At any rate, the correspondence of the Illuminati provides their best exoneration. The Marquis de Luchet, who was no friend of the Jesuits, shows the absurdity of confounding their aims with those of either the Freemasons or the Illuminati, and describes all three as animated by wholly different purposes.[499]

In all these questions it is necessary to seek a motive. I have no personal interest in defending the Jesuits, but I ask: what motive could the Jesuits have in forming or supporting a conspiracy directed against all thrones and altars? It has been answered me that the Jesuits at this period cared nothing for thrones and altars, but only for temporal power; yet--even accepting this unwarrantable hypothesis--how was this power to be exercised except through thrones and altars? Was it not through princes and the Church that the Jesuits had been able to bring their influence to bear on affairs of state? In an irreligious Republic, as events afterwards proved, the power of the whole clergy was bound to be destroyed. The truth is then, that, far from abetting the Illuminati, the Jesuits were their most formidable opponents, the only body of men sufficiently learned, astute, and well organized to outwit the schemes of Weishaupt. In suppressing the Jesuits it is possible that the Old Regime removed the only barrier capable of resisting the tide of revolution.

Weishaupt indeed, as we know, detested the Jesuits,[500] and took from them only certain methods of discipline, of ensuring obedience or of acquiring influence over the minds of his disciples; his aims were entirely different.

Where, then, did Weishaupt find his immediate inspiration? It is here that Barruel and Lecouteulx de Canteleu provide a clue not to be discovered in other sources. In 1771, they relate, a certain Jutland merchant named Kolmer, who had spent many years in Egypt, returned to Europe in search of converts to a secret doctrine founded on Manichaeism that he had learnt in the East. On his way to France he stopped at Malta, where he met Cagliostro and nearly brought about an insurrection amongst the people. Kolmer was therefore driven out of the island by the Knights of Malta and betook himself to Avignon and Lyons. Here he made a few disciples amongst the Illumines and in the same year went on to Germany, where he encountered Weishaupt and initiated him into all the mysteries of his secret doctrine. According to Barruel, Weishaupt then spent five years thinking out his system, which he founded under the name of Illuminati on May 1, 1776, and a.s.sumed the "illuminated" name of "Spartacus."

Kolmer remains the most mysterious of all the mystery men of his day; at first sight one is inclined to wonder whether he may not have been another of the Cabalistic Jews acting as the secret inspirers of the magicians who appeared in the limelight. The name Kolmer might easily have been a corruption of the well-known Jewish name Calmer. Lecouteulx de Canteleu, however, suggests that Kolmer was identical with Altolas, described by Figuier as "this universal genius, almost divine, of whom Cagliostro has spoken to us with so much respect and admiration. This Altotas was not an imaginary personage. The Inquisition of Rome has collected many proofs of his existence without having been able to discover when it began or ended, for Altotas disappears, or rather vanishes like a meteor, which, according to the poetic fancy of romancers, would authorize us in declaring him immortal."[501] It is curious to notice that modern occultists, whilst attributing so much importance to Saint-Germain and the legend of his immortality, make no mention of Altotas, who appears to have been a great deal more remarkable. But, again, we must remember: "It is the unvarying rule of secret societies that the real authors never show themselves." If, then, Kolmer was the same person as Altotas, he would appear not to have been a Jew or a Cabalist, but an initiate of some Near Eastern secret society--possibly an Ismaili. Lecouteulx de Canteleu describes Altotas as an Armenian, and says that his system was derived from those of Egypt, Syria, and Persia. This would accord with Barruel's statement that Kolmer came from Egypt, and that his ideas were founded on Manichaeism.

It would be necessary to set these statements aside as only the theories of Barruel or Lecouteulx, were it not that the writings of the Illuminati betray the influence of some sect akin to Manichaeism. Thus "Spartacus" writes to "Cato" that he is thinking of "warming up the old system of the Ghebers and Pa.r.s.ees,"[502] and it will be remembered that the Ghebers were one of the sects in which Dozy relates that Abdullah ibn Maymun found his true supporters. Later Weishaupt goes on to explain that--

The allegory in which the Mysteries and Higher Grades must be clothed is Fire Worship and the whole philosophy of Zoroaster or of the old Pa.r.s.ees who nowadays only remain in India; therefore in the further degrees the Order is called "Fire Worship" (Feuer-dienst), the "Fire Order," or the "Persian Order"--that is, something magnificent beyond all expectation.[503]

At the same time the Persian calendar was adopted by the Illuminati.[504]

It is evident that this pretence of Zoroastrianism was as pure humbug as Weishaupt's later pretence of Christianity; of the true doctrines of Zoroaster he shows no conception--nor does he insist further on the point; but the above pa.s.sage would certainly lend colour to the theory that his system was partly founded on Manichaeism, that is to say, on perverted Zoroastrianism, imparted to him by a man from the East, and that the methods of the Batinis and Fatimites may have been communicated to him through the same channel. Hence the extraordinary resemblance between his plan of organization and that of Abdullah ibn Maymun, which consisted in political intriguing rather than in esoteric speculation. Thus in Weishaupt's system the phraseology of Judaism, the Cabalistic legends of Freemasonry, the mystical imaginings of the Martinistes, play at first no part at all. For all forms of "theosophy,"

occultism, spiritualism, and magic Weishaupt expresses nothing but contempt, and the Rose-Croix masons are bracketed with the Jesuits by the Illuminati as enemies it is necessary to outwit at every turn.[505]

Consequently no degree of Rose-Croix finds a place in Weishaupt's system, as in all the other masonic orders of the day which drew their influence from Eastern or Cabalistic sources.

It is true that "Mysteries" play a great part in the phraseology of the Order--"Greater and Lesser Mysteries," borrowed from ancient Egypt--whilst the higher initiates are decorated with such t.i.tles as "Epopte" and "Hierophant," taken from the Eleusinian Mysteries. Yet Weishaupt's own theories appear to bear no relation whatever to these ancient cults. On the contrary, the more we penetrate into his system, the more apparent it becomes that all the formulas he employs which derive from any religious source--whether Persian, Egyptian, or Christian--merely serve to disguise a purely material purpose, a plan for destroying the existing order of society. Thus all that was really ancient in Illuminism was the destructive spirit that animated it and also the method of organization it had imported from the East.

Illuminism therefore marks an entirely new departure in the history of European secret societies. Weishaupt himself indicates this as one of the great secrets of the Order. "Above all," he writes to "Cato" (alias Zwack), "guard the origin and the novelty of ? in the most careful way."[506] "The greatest mystery," he says again, "must be that the thing is new; the fewer who know this the better.... Not one of the Eichstadters knows this but would live or die for it that the thing is as old as Methuselah."[507]

This pretence of having discovered some fund of ancient wisdom is the invariable ruse of secret society adepts; the one thing never admitted is the ident.i.ty of the individuals from whom one is receiving direction.

Weishaupt himself declares that he has got it all out of books by means of arduous and unremitting labour. "What it costs me to read, study, think, write, cross out, and re-write!" he complains to Marius and Cato.[508] Thus, according to Weishaupt the whole system is the work of his own unaided genius, and the supreme direction remains in his hands alone. Again and again he insists on this point in his correspondence.

If this were indeed the case, Weishaupt--in view of the efficiency achieved by the Order--must have been a genius of the first water, and it is difficult to understand why so remarkable a man should not have distinguished himself on other lines, but have remained almost unknown to posterity. It would therefore appear possible that Weishaupt, although undoubtedly a man of immense organizing capacity and endowed with extraofdinary subtlety, was not in reality the sole author of Illuminism, but one of a group, which, recognizing his talents and the value of his untiring activity, placed the direction in his hands. Let us examine this hypothesis in the light of a doc.u.ment which was unknown to me when I wrote my former account of the Illuminati.

Barruel has pointed out that the great error of Robison was to describe Illuminism as arising out of Freemasonry, since Weishaupt did not become a Freemason until after he had founded his Order. It is true that Weishaupt was not officially received into Freemasonry until 1777, when he was initiated into the first degree at the Lodge "Theodore de Bon Conseil," at Munich. From this time we find him continually occupied in trying to discover more about the secrets of Freemasonry, whilst himself claiming superior knowledge.

But at the same time it is by no means certain that an inner circle of the Lodge Theodore may not have been first in the field and Weishaupt all the while an unconscious agent. A very curious light is thrown on this question by the _Memoires_ of Mirabeau.

Now, in _The French Revolution_ and again in _World Revolution_ I quoted the generally received opinion that Mirabeau, who was already a Freemason, was received into the Order of the Illuminati during his visit to Berlin in 1786. To this Mr. Waite replied: "All that is said about Mirabeau, his visit to Berlin, and his plot to 'illuminize' French Freemasonry, may be disposed of in one sentence: there is no evidence to show that Mirabeau ever became a Mason. The province of Barruel was to colour everything...."[509] Mr. Waite's statement may also be disposed of in one sentence: it is a pure invention. The province of Mr. Waite is to deny everything inconvenient to him. The evidence that Mirabeau was a Freemason does not rest on Barruel alone. M. Barthou, in his Life of Mirabeau, refers to it as a matter of common knowledge, and relates that a paper was found at Mirabeau's house describing a new Order to be grafted on Freemasonry. This doc.u.ment will be found in its entirety in the _Memoires_ of Mirabeau, where it is stated that:

Mirabeau had early entered an a.s.sociation of Freemasonry. This affiliation had accredited him to a Dutch lodge, and it seems that, either spontaneously or in response to a request, he thought of proposing an organization of which we possess the plan, written not by his hand.... but by the hand of a copyist whom Mirabeau had attached to himself.... This work appears to have been that of Mirabeau; all his opinions, his principles, and his style will be found here.[510]

The same work goes on to print the doc.u.ment in full, which is headed: "Memoir concerning an intimate a.s.sociation to be established in the Order of Freemasonry so as to bring it back to its true principles and to make it really tend to the good of humanity, drawn up by the F.

Mi----, at present named Arcesilas, in 1776."

As this Memoir is too long to reproduce in full here, M. Barthou's _resume_ will serve to give an idea of its contents[511]:

He [Mirabeau] was a Freemason from his youth. There was found amongst his papers, written by the hand of a copyist, an international organization of Freemasonry, which no doubt he dictated in Amsterdam. This project contains on the solidarity of men, on the benefits of instruction, and on the "correction of the system of governments and of legislations" views very superior to those of "The Essay on Despotism" (1772). The mind of Mirabeau had ripened. The duties he traces out for the "brothers of the higher grade" const.i.tute even a whole plan of reforms which resemble very much in certain parts the work accomplished later by the Const.i.tuent [a.s.sembly]: suppression of servitudes on the land and the rights of main morte, abolition of the corvees, of working guilds and of maitrises [freedom of companies], of customs and excise duties, the diminution of taxation, liberty of religious opinions and of the press, the disappearance of special jurisdiction. In order to organize, to develop and arrive at his end, Mirabeau invokes the example of the Jesuits: "We have quite contrary views," he says, "that of enlightening men, of making them free and happy, but we must and we can do this by the same means, and who should prevent us doing for good what the Jesuits have done for evil?"[512]

Now in this Memoir Mirabeau makes no mention of Weishaupt, but in his _Histoire de la Monarchic Prussienne_ he gives a eulogistic account of the Bavarian Illuminati, referring to Weishaupt by name, and showing the Order to have arisen out of Freemasonry. It will be seen that this account corresponds point by point with the Memoir he had himself made out in 1776, that is to say, in the very year that Illuminism was founded:

The Lodge Theodore de Bon Conseil at Munich, where there were a few men with brains and hearts, was tired of being tossed about by the vain promises and quarrels of Masonry. The heads resolved to graft on to their branch another secret a.s.sociation to which they gave the name of the Order of the Illumines. They modelled it on the Society of Jesus, whilst proposing to themselves views diametrically opposed.

Mirabeau then goes on to say that the great object of the Order was the amelioration of the present system of government and legislation, that one of its fundamental rules was to admit "no prince whatever his virtues,"[513] that it proposed to abolish--

The slavery of the peasants, the servitude of men to the soil, the rights of main morte and all the customs and privileges which abase humanity, the corvees under the condition of an equitable equivalent, all the corporations, all the maitrises, all the burdens imposed on industry and commerce by customs, excise duties, and taxes ... to procure a universal toleration for all religious opinions ... to take away all the arms of superst.i.tion, to favour the liberty of the press, etc.[514]

From all this we see then that Mirabeau did not become an Illuminatus in 1786 as I had supposed before this doc.u.ment was known to me, but had been in the Order from the beginning apparently as one of its founders, first under the "Illuminated" name of Arcesilas and later under that of Leonidas. The Memoir found at his house was thus no other than the programme of the Illuminati evolved by him in collaboration with an inner ring of Freemasons belonging to the Lodge Theodore. The correspondence of the Illuminati in fact contains several references to an inner ring under the name of "the secret chapter of the Lodge of St.

Theodore," which, after his initiation into Masonry, Weishaupt indicates the necessity of bringing entirely under the control of Illuminism. It is probable that Weishaupt was in touch with this secret chapter before his formal admission to the lodge.

Whether, then, the ideas of Illuminism arose in this secret, chapter of the Lodge Theodore independently of Weishaupt, or whether they were imparted by Weishaupt to the Lodge Theodore after the directions had been given him by Kolmer, it is impossible to know; but in either case there would be some justification for Robison's a.s.sertion that Illuminism arose out of Freemasonry, or rather that it took birth amongst a group of Freemasons whose aims were not those of the Order in general.

What were these aims? A plan of social and political "reform" which, as M. Barthou points out, much resembled the work accomplished later by the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly in France. This admission is of great importance; in other words, the programme carried out by the Const.i.tuent a.s.sembly in 1789 had been largely formulated in a lodge of German Freemasons who formed the nucleus of the Illuminati, in 1776. And yet we are told that Illuminism had no influence on the French Revolution!

It will be objected that the reforms here indicated were wholly admirable. True, the abolition of the _corvee_, of _main morte_, and of servitudes were measures that met with the approval of all right-minded men, including the King of France himself. But what of the abolition of the "working guilds" and "all the corporations," that is to say, the "trade unions" of the period, which was carried out by the infamous Loi Chapelier in 1791, a decree that is now generally recognized as one of the strangest anomalies of the Revolution? Again, to whose interest was it to do away with the customs and excise duties of France? To establish the absolute and unfettered liberty of the press and religious opinions?

The benefits these measures might be expected to confer on the French people were certainly problematical, but there could be no doubt of their utility to men who, like Frederick the Great, wished to ruin France and to break the Franco-Austrian alliance by the unrestricted circulation of libels against Marie Antoinette, who, like Mirabeau, hoped to bring about a revolution, or who, like Voltaire, wished to remove all obstacles to the spread of an anti-Christian propaganda.