J. R. Sommer invokes the Aryan spirit of the Upanishads and Germanic prophets to declare that true liberation arises through the silent will that transcends daily automatism and reclaims being through reflective thought.
If men thought of God as much as they think of the world, who would not attain liberation?
— Maitri Upanishad
The thought pains me: We exist to kill time before time kills us. Why are we here? Yes, yes — to procreate. But why? I answer this in The New Colossus and The Electric Will1: to bring about the full manifestation of pure consciousness — or more precisely, unconscious consciousness. Though we, being the “utmost manifestation” of the substrate-will, have the contemplative means to overcome such an automatic — or automatonic — existence, the odds of overcoming our fundamental purpose are slim.
So here we are — doing things: things along the way, things we find to do. All this doing, regardless of its ultimate meaninglessness, gives us “local” meaning. We become the things we do and the things we think we think. We succumb fully to elemental being — the self that becomes ensconced in the daily churn of doing. Meanwhile, the transcendent self lurks somewhere beneath the churn, beyond our capacity to see, locked as we are in the throes of being.
If we stopped the churn of daily doing, we would perhaps turn so much busy sound into silence and hear the eternal AUM. But then — perish the thought — we would sense the meaninglessness of what we imagine as reality, or maybe the economy would suffer — and we cannot suffer that. No, we can’t have that; we need a government and people in positions of authority to say very, and important, and very important often — to assure us of their necessity. We need such people to tell us how so many other people and their positions are unnecessary — to assure us of their necessity. We believe them, without question, because it is part of the churn. And if we don’t believe them? Well, by god, that just means we think something else has definite meaning somewhere else — and we’re going to fight like hell for it. So there is always something to do. Meantime, churn never turns to silence, and we never reflect on the incredible preposterousness of “needing” currency, society, politics, or even elemental being. But the latter exists to differentiate the self: without it, we could neither see nor hear the silence.
If meaninglessness exists to reveal meaning, then it is the responsibility of the self who thinks such thoughts to grasp the meaning. This thought is beyond most, which is why the daily churn of doing continues: beings with no real being exist for something else, something sinister and simultaneously distant and intimate. Responsibility is alien to the churn, for it demands ceasing and silence. So exists the exclusive world of elemental beings: individuals without real cause, because meaning is forfeit in the busy boisterousness of belonging. It is a false belonging, however, for self-possession is required for belonging, and self-possession is precluded by the churning conformism of doing. Doing for the sake of — what? We must make powerful weapons to protect us from the adversary who makes powerful weapons to protect itself from our powerful weapons that impel it to make powerful weapons: this is the essence of what passes for daily “reality” — this with some irresponsible distraction thrown in for good measure. See, responsibility requires effort, as does thought and, thus, the transcendent self. And contemplative effort is something the daily churn eschews and precludes.
We do not morph into perpetual time-killers: time killing is the basic state of being. One must instead become the self that stops killing time because it stops existing in time; that is, one must seek and attain the self that transcends time. This is the responsibility of reflection, and reflection is the key to liberation.
Very well, someone says, but what does this have to do with me? Nothing — this has nothing to do with you. You and I are the obstacles to be overcome, the fetters binding free will to elemental will, which is the will that is not one’s own. Freedom is rejection of the churn and all that abides it. Until this rejection occurs, we will continue to see the inevitable degradation of things we hold dear and true.
∞ • ∞
In the beginning was the vast expanse, both nothing and all. The wisdom of the beginning was pulled from the ether by prophets of the true self, and for ages this wisdom was passed down with spoken word. Thus the beginning was the word.
The world’s oldest spiritual writing is Vedic — yet the Vedas were ancient even by the time they were recorded. If the Vedas are some 4,000 years old, we might presume their prehistoric roots reach back several more centuries, if not millennia. We call these texts Hindu today, but their root is Aryan. After the liberal-Marxist thrashing of the Hitlerian Idea, Aryan was replaced with Indo-European (or Proto-Indo-European) as the politically correct term. (Liberal-Marxism always prefers correctness to truth.2) In Myth and Sun, Martin Friedrich examines the devolution of Aryanism, attendant with its caste, which is helpful to historically frame the spiritual discussion:
The Hindu-Aryan (i.e., Indoo-, or Indo-Aryan) tradition asserts that, in the beginning, there existed only one caste.3 This original caste ‘possessed normally and spontaneously the spiritual degree designated by this name.’4 This ties to the second of Rajan’s postulated theories of Hindu-Aryanism: that ‘that which evolves an effect out of itself is one with it,’ or that the spirit of the Creator permeates wholly and incorruptibly the substance of the created.5 Yet, since man does not have such a perfectly spiritual or unflawed nature, this theory was seen as insufficient. This insufficiency gave rise not only to a subsequent theory, but also, more importantly, to a propagation of castes. First, to the former point, the third and final theory of Hindu-Aryanism postulates that the Creator (or ‘Efficient Cause,’ i.e., Brahma) is distinct from its creation, yet sufficient to enliven it; the example offered is that of the sun and its radiating energy.6 Rajan marks this third theory as logically flawless and ‘accepted by all the finest logicians of the world; all our philosophical structure is based on this theory.’7 Second, to the latter point, the development of multiple castes from the one original caste corroborates the falsity of the second theory in that the otherness of man (from the supreme creative cause) precipitates his fallen state: as spiritually pure as the first caste might have been, it was sufficiently fallen to initiate further degradation through the cyclical time-cycle. This marks the devolution of man from his higher state.8
Convincingly, Friedrich, similar to Savitri Devi, goes on to argue that Europeans (Germanics) should reestablish their roots in the cyclicality of ancient ‘Hindu-Aryan’ traditions, rather than any moribund linearity devised in the Levantine desert. This reestablishment is not transplantation but only the removal of invasive weeds. Such autochthonous framing, then, might help center our spiritual approach.
The beginning was the word. Within the Vedic tradition, prophets of the true self expounded their philosophy in the Upanishads, which describe Brahman as the ultimate source of being and Atman as its human instantiation, if only it were sought and discovered. Brahman, however, is not being; it transcends being and is fundamentally incomprehensible. We need not trip over terms here — Brahman is a term with historicity, but one I neither fully accept nor use in my writing: I am not a Hindu so much as I am an Aryan descendant. Thus, I interpret Upanishadic philosophy through a Germanic lens. Modern swamis mean less to me than the principal Germanic prophets: Schopenhauer, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and Heidegger. Schopenhauer shook Europe from her Levantine-scholastic stupor; Kierkegaard reminded Europe of her faith-filled mission; Nietzsche identified the ruinous blight of un-Germanic liberality; and Heidegger, as the culminating voice of Germania, echoed the primeval Aryan voice — Only a god can save us.9
The beginning was the word, logos, because communities were homogeneous and small. This homogeneity was of race and thought; race was not everything, but it was the beginning of everything.10 Divine thought was sourced in the memory of blood, handed down from generation to generation. It was only later, after the propagation of peoples over time and space, that logos manifested in script — to remind diluting souls of former potency. Only a god can save us is the word; for Heidegger, thought is our only means of salvation, for, if done sincerely, it forces us to reframe our self in being. The Maitri Upanishad instructs us: “Attain contemplation” and attain God. Thought prepares the way.11
The Upanishads describe Atman, the distant-intimate source of self and being, as having four conditions: waking life, dreaming life, sleeping life, and the “awakened life of supreme consciousness ... beyond thought and ineffable” (or Atman, proper).12 Of the first three, sleeping life is closest to Brahman, that “silent consciousness ... all-knowing, the inner ruler, the source of all, the beginning and end of all beings”13; but because this silent consciousness is inaccessible to us in conscious life, a fourth condition (supreme consciousness) becomes a necessary goal for the thoughtful. Each of these elemental conditions bears an associated sound: A (waking), U (dreaming), M (sleeping), and AUM (Atman). Thus the elemental modes of being — i.e., those associated with physiology — are the predicates for the holy silence, AUM; and thus, transcendent being is tied to elemental being.
We can see this intertwinement, too, in Hindu-Aryan cosmontology14: Brahman is Shiva the destroyer (Rudra), Brahma the creator (Agni), and Vishnu the preserver (Indra). Each of Brahman’s “lower” instantiations carries an associated guna, or mode of Nature-personality: tamas (Shiva), rajas (Brahma), and sattva (Vishnu). The reader is encouraged to investigate the gunas separately; but before one looks too harshly upon the association of tamas and Shiva, let it be known that darkness comes after the destruction of what could no longer be preserved — it is a time of repose before the next cycle. Additionally, Shiva can be seen as wild, cruel, tranquil, and kind — sensible, and not paradoxical, traits for a destroyer that sets conditions for creative action. The corresponding Germanic deity-schema might look as follows: the Sun (or Baldur, Brahman), Loki (Shiva), Wotan (Brahma), and Thor (Vishnu); this schema is only a suggestion and could likely be honed this way or that; the point is that Aryanism has primordial roots whose traces can be seen if one is able to look beyond the daily churn of doing.
The final piece of the present puzzle is the gap between the Upanishads and Germania. None of the principal Germanic prophets were “Hindus” — but their Aryan blood resonated with the message of Hindu-Aryanism: self-reflection is key, for self-reflection allows for the holy silence that might exist to counter the preposterousness of automatism. The Svetasvatara Upanishad asks, “How can anything be greater than [God]? — He is the source of all.” Herein lies the issue. Greater than God is the will that overcomes the impoverished conditions generated by the source. The source is not Brahman; it is the will — and more than this, it is the will-to-machine, or unconscious consciousness. And salvation is not Atman; it is the deliberate will of a thoughtful being, manifest to overcome the being (beyng) that is its source.
I detail Germania’s vision for the future in The New Colossus (Arktos, 2025), The Electric Will (Arktos, forthcoming), and Supreme Being (Arktos, forthcoming). If you are interested in what you have read to this point, you might find my larger works worthwhile.
Order J. R. Sommer’s The New Colossus: Heidegger and the Will-to-Machine.
The Electric Will and its sequel, Supreme Being, will be published by Arktos.
The New Colossus (Arktos, 2025).
Guenon, Lord of the World (Coombe Springs, 1983), 28.
Ibid., 28.
T. C. Rajan Iyengar, The Hindu-Aryan Theory on Evolution and Involution (Funk & Wagnalls, 1908), 4.
Ibid., 5.
Ibid., 5.
Friedrich, Myth and Sun: Essays of the ARCHETYPE (Clemens & Blair, 2022), 139.
Heidegger’s famous missive in a 1966 interview with Der Spiegel (published posthumously in 1976); discussed at length in The New Colossus (Arktos, 2025).
“Race is not everything, but it is the beginning of everything.” Friedrich, Myth and Sun, 222, 224, 300.
The New Colossus, Part I, §20.
Mandukya Upanishad.
Mandukya Upanishad.
A portmanteau, coined here, of cosmology and ontology, which is a fitting descriptor of Indo-European philosophical thought.
Extremely interesting and thought-provoking. Thank you. Is this essay part of a book?
Brilliant, thank you for the insight