The radical right is composed of three elements: the genius, chiefly visual artists, poets, and mad scientists; the soldier-aristocrat; and, finally, the native lumpenprole. Jouvenel is correct: politics is characterised by inter-elite competition; specifically, the decadent elements of the high—the trust fund kids and envious intellectuals—teamed with the romanticised low, immigrants or social deviants. These two groups contend against the solid middle, the productive—if unfashionable, living in the dreaded suburbs—civilised core. What Jouvenel overlooked, being a liberal of an ancient sort, was that there also exists a counter-elite: the barbarian radical right.
The poets and painters of genius are barbarians who think in images, not the words of clever journalists and lawyers. The poet mimics nature; as he does so he becomes an animal—he is an image of nature’s energy. The visual artists guard against the debasement of the symbolic currency; they are the mystics behind the administrative priesthood—the esoteric core. Their chaotic creativity means they can easily become the decadent moralisers of the left; but art does not moralise, it mirrors. The genius is so because he is a difficult man; he will not be drawn into status games, he reflects a higher law. Similarly, the mad scientist never compromises his investigation of nature; he knows nature is a woman and he must rape or dismember to uncover her secrets, pull her apart. He cannot stop his blade from probing nature; he will experiment on his own body if he must; and if he concludes that eugenics is required, he will not shrink from saying that.
Soldiers and aristocrats live an existential life: they live closer to death. They admire the man who holds his position, even if all is lost, because he gave his word to his fellow soldiers. The middle can be responsible with money, but the soldier is responsible to his brotherhood in the face of death; he meets a higher criteria of trust.
The lumpen element is formed of biker gangs, football hooligans, and similar male gangs. These are people who, being less intelligent, are extremely tribal and instinctive. They are often victims of the left’s status games; they are the natives who have to live with the immigrants the left imports. They have an instinctive sense that something is wrong, but cannot articulate the problem; so they believe outlandish conspiracy theories and are mocked by intellectuals—though these modern myths are more true than not. They reach the same conclusions as the lone genius, being as difficult as he is, and so form the proverbial retard-genius alliance.
The suburban dad—the political conservative—is not delighted that his daughter is consorting with a poet or a biker. “And just how will that pay the mortgage?” he harrumphs; only the mother, stimulated by these examples of masculine virtue, is more excited by the impractical match. Even the soldier is not really liked. The middle pays lip service to the military, but the soldier is ultimately a killer. He is a necessary killer, but the taboo against murder is so strong that the middle would prefer him hidden; hence soldiers are marginalised or remain within the parallel society of the quasi-feudal military family.
The radical right breaks the civilised laws that are fiddled by lawyers. This is because it adheres to the higher law: the barbarian law of honour—call it the Tao or the Holy Spirit. This is the law of the Old Testament and the Iliad: an eye for an eye; rough justice, vigilante justice—real justice. It is the lone gunslinger despised by the elders and kept to the margins of town. When society is threatened by bandits, let inside by naïve townspeople, the timid elders come out to the hermit to beg for help. He helps, without expecting to be liked, because his integrity demands it; as soon as the bandits are gone, the respectable people will run him out of town again. He is always the hidden god, dwelling in darkness.