Punching Nazis, Black Metal, and the Use of Ideological Symbols

I'm all behind the political trend of punching and scalping Nazis. Once you wear the swastika symbol or do the Nazi salute, then you're fair game, you can be beaten, pissed on, burned and so on, as you, in fact, have shedded your humanity. While this case seems to me pretty clear, I wonder about others that don't appear to clearly warrant a violent response. How about someone wearing the communist hammer and sickle symbol? Is that an endorsement of genocide, given the communist atrocities? I think people are less inclined to react to the communist mark, partly because of ignorance, and partly because the communist threat seems so distant and academic, compared to the Nazi threat, which became hard to ignore especially after the election of Trump. Also, I'm a bit biased so I wouldn't punch a comrade.   

Things can get pretty tricky when, like me, you're a leftist who happens to love black metal. The anxiety about whether the hoodies and band-shirts you wear warrant you getting punched is a real thing, especially when you yourself are itching for some political violence. I'm a fan of Revenge, Marduk, and Peste Noire, bands singled out and boycotted by Antifa as Neo-Nazi. Black metal is an extreme and serious business and the rise of National Socialist Black Metal (NSBM) seems to be a natural development within a genre aimed at smashing all taboos. Peste Noire is easily categorized as NS given, among other things, the frontman's, Famine, happily doing the Nazi salute, a penchant for Third Right memorabilia, and the title of their first demo, Aryan Supremacy. Revenge is a bit harder to categorize, in light of their minimalist style and the fact that they don't publish their lyrics. However, reading through the album and song titles paints a vivid far-right picture. On Scum. Collapse. Eradication. you get songs like "Parasite Gallows (In Line)" or "Burden Eradication (Nailed Down)" Now, if you ask yourself who are the parasites who need to be nailed down and eradicated, you can get a clue from titles like "Sterilisation (Procreation Denied)." Given that Revenge is from Alberta, Canada, where eugenics had been practiced mainly against Aboriginal People up till the '70s, it's not far-fetched to conclude a virulent racism against Natives is at work here, with yet another history of genocide right on its tail. Taking into account the evolution of their style, their changing aesthetics and the variety of themes behind their music, Marduk is yet harder to pigeonhole than the previous two acts. Their early output was straight Anti-Christian Satanic Black Metal. However, the Panzer tanks featured on their EP Here's no Peace and the Panzer Division Marduk  album, as well as the eagle insignia adorning the cover of their Live in Germania album, have raised a few eyebrows and placed them straight on the Antifa black list.

Although NSBM is the more explicitly political sub-genre of black metal, Satanic Black Metal also has some grim political implications. Black metal is closely associated with various forms of Satanism, and it has a cultish, fanatical side to it. And I don't mean the watered-down, compassionate and humanitarian version of Satanism defining the Satanic Temple, but the real deal: ruthless destruction of all creation, savage misanthropy, a celebration of darkness, chaos, and death. This is the ideology behind towering acts like Behemoth, Satyricon, Mayhem, Gorgoroth, Watain, Marduk, Inquisition, and so on. Now, genuine Satanic Black Metal hasn't received as much political attention as NSBM, but it goes without saying that it can be more dangerous. I mean, a real Satanist wants 99% of mankind eradicated or enslaved by the Luciferian elite, not only the Jews or the Slavs or the Blacks. If no satanic black flame of rebellion is burning within them,  Aryans can line up in front of gas chambers the same way as other misbegotten races. So, that's a tad worrisome, I'd say. Erik of Watain eloquently states his views as follows: "For me,

Satan represents something so much bigger than this world, than this universe, than the creator of this universe. It is a force that is constantly counteracting the creation and breaking it down until everything has returned to its totally unlimited state of chaos." And the natural conclusion comes when Erik states that he "totally encourage(s) any kind of terrorist acts committed in the name of Watain."

So then, do I deserve to be beaten up for wearing a Watain hoodie, just as I should be if I were wearing a swastika armband? Should I be burned? After all, one of my hoodies claims "Let the World Burn" and last time I checked I was part of this world. Also, isn't a leftist supposed to destroy only the ruling class while waking the working class out of its exploitative slumber and help it build a bright, majestic, just future? Revenge hoodies have minimalist designs (skull-and-crossbones, knives, gas masks and so on) and pretty vague inscriptions ("Doom Division," "Total Rejection," "Scum Eradication," or "Nihilist Militant")  so I feel pretty safe wearing them but I've decided against buying a Panzer Division Marduk hoodie and settled on buying a flag instead. I thought wearing that hoodie would be in bad taste, especially in the ugly wake of Trump's election. Plus, what adorns the walls of my place is private, my business, behind closed doors. The private/public distinction comes with its own problems. My Facebook account is technically private but social media seems by definition to be public. And what if I decide to throw a party, does my apartment then suddenly become a public space for one night?

Philosopher Richard Rorty has an original understanding of the private/public distinction. In the private sphere, we focus on self-improvement or overcoming ourselves. Or, to put it differently, we focus on becoming who we are, as opposed to who others want us to be. Nietzsche, Rorty argues, is a philosopher of the private sphere. His metaphors regarding war are just meant to highlight the struggles we face on the road to self-discovery, the struggle of the individual trying to distance himself from the herd, the master trying not to drown in the sea of degenerate slaves. For Rorty, privacy also comes with a spiritual and artistic dimension. Following Whitehead's definition of religion, Rorty characterizes it as "what you do with your solitude." The artistic impulse, for Nietzsche, also comes from solitude, and it's aimed at transfiguring the world. This is also the area of madness and perceived deviance from social norms. On the other hand, Rorty argues, in the public domain the focus is on the public good, on social and economic justice, and creating the conditions necessary for everyone's development, including the gradual reduction of cruelty and humiliation, which are harmful to the self in general. One example of cruelty and humiliation is life in totalitarian states where the individual's private sphere is crushed in the name of a collective purpose. By avoiding cruelty and humiliation, the public sphere poses only minimal requirements on the individual, the ones we're familiar with in liberal democracies, while giving the space to the individual to develop in whatever way he sees fit.

Now, I have to admit I've been using Rorty's private/public distinction to defend my infatuation with black metal for a decade now, the idea being that black metal falls mostly in the private sphere. Incidentally, Ash from Nargaroth has a similar understanding of Satanism in black metal, one inspired by Nietzsche and Ash's own studies in psychology. That is the philosophy behind Nargaroth's hit "Black Metal ist krieg!" Marduk's militaristic imagery and glorification of war can be interpreted in the same Nietzschean spirit. In addition to the destructive aspect mentioned above, Satanism also has a more constructive dimension, rooted in its uncompromising individualism. Echoing Nietzsche's distinction between master and slave morality, Satanism emphasizes that we're fully responsible for our own lives, we're the authors of our destiny, not God or our parents or the horde of sheep we happen to live amongst. Satan is, after all, the romantic rebel angel, the accuser and opposer, to quote a Marduk song. So then, to a certain degree, bringing satanic symbols like the inverted pentagram or the inverted cross or the trident into the public domain is justified as a constant reminder of a commitment to individual freedom. For a more detailed discussion of this point see my Satanism Without Gimmicks.  Of course, the madness and cultish character of black metal will also spill into the public sphere some statements that are hard to justify like "Let The World Burn."

Another important line of defense here is that black metal is an art form, just extreme music. Now, if the creators of that music also see it as a medium of communicating a political message, that doesn't imply that the fans of the music automatically agree with the message. The music itself is non-representational, it's not about anything. It can surely give rise to strong emotions but the direction of those emotions is pretty much left open. Like, Revenge definitely has developed one of the rawest, most barbaric and confrontational sounds in black metal and one cannot listen to them without being overwhelmed by burning hatred. But what's that hatred directed toward? Human scum, parasites? And we saw the meaning the band attaches to these notions. But why can't the listener attach his own meaning? Like, imagining beating Trump with a claw hammer and puking down a hole in his skull. Both leftists and fascists feel burning hatred. The fact that it's directed at different things doesn't diminish its intensity. Maybe the song titles and lyrics of black metal bands point to the target of the hatred? Maybe, but a text is open to various interpretations, and the author's intended interpretation is just one of many. The Holy Bible, let's say, is a militant book but not all readers of the Bible agree with its message. Similarly, I find the lyrics of bands like Behemoth, Watain or Marduk very well written and aesthetically pleasing, but that's not gonna turn me into a church-burning Satanic terrorist. In one of their songs, Peste Noire uses a poem by critically-acclaimed writer Charles Baudelaire. Obviously being exposed to such sublime art is not gonna turn one into a raving neo-Nazi.

All in all, I don't think the symbols and statements on black metal merch warrant the automatic violent response that a swastika armband does. Although someone wearing a Revenge tee or hoodie that states "Scum Eradication" is kinda asking for it. These are complicated issues and all I did here was skim the surface. Another layer to the problem is supporting Nazi-bands or militant Satanic acts with money by buying their merch and going to their shows. What if that money is used toward terrorist activities? Then there's blood on your hands? Does that, indirectly, make you a Nazi? Truthfully, I don't yet have an answer to these important questions.

Review of the movie Lords of Chaos

I really enjoyed the Lords of Chaos movie but was a bit turned off by how it caricatures Varg Vikernes and casts him in the role of the villain. I personally think Varg is a smart and charismatic individual, as well as a brilliant musician, but I'm not gonna let those beliefs affect my judgment of the movie. I think the movie fails on its own terms in the inconsistency with which it portrays Varg. In one early scene, we see Euronymous be mesmerized by the Burzum music (Varg's one-man band) and call it True Norwegian Black Metal. However, not only do we not hear the music (because Varg has denied them the right to use it) but also we get no insight into what inspired Varg to create that original, ground-breaking sound and of the ideology behind his music. Varg is just depicted as a one-dimensional follower who learns from his daddy Euronymous what's what in politics and how Christianity is a plague. But that's really hard to believe. First, Euronymous was a leftist, an admirer of the communist Romanian dictator Ceausescu. Second, Varg had been into collecting Nazi paraphernalia and into paganism before meeting Euronymous, which is suggested by his dungeon-like apartment in Bergen. And this interest, as well as an inclination toward history, Norse Mythology, and RPG games are what inspired the early Burzum music (The word "burzum" means "darkness" in the black speech, a fictional language crafted by Lord of the Rings writer J. R. R. Tolkien.) Thus, it's hard to believe that the danger of the Christian plague was brand new info for Varg at the time he first met Euronymous.

The movie briefly refers to these essential aspects of Varg's personality but in a dismissive way, as a teen trying his best to seem cool, be accepted by his peers and promote his music by taking credit for vandalistic acts like church burnings or grave desecrations. For instance, in the scene when Varg gives an interview to the reporters from Kerrang! in his own apartment adorned with Swastikas and weapons and so on, the interviewers ask him how Nazism and Satanism and Odinism are all connected. And Varg says that there is a connection, which is rendered as a laughable reply. But this was actually a perfect opportunity to offer a glimpse into Varg's complex character. Satanism is obviously connected with his anti-Christian stance and Nazism is inspired by Norse mythology and, as we all know, Vikings hated Christians. Varg is not only an attention-seeking teen, but he also has an outstanding speculative power to connect ideas from different spiritual traditions and weave them into a coherent ideology. If there ever was a philosopher in the Black Circle, it was Varg, not Euronymous.

Toward the end of the movie, Varg and Euronymous talk about the release of Mayhem's De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas and how the band is going to go on tour. To this, Varg, Mayhem's bass player, replies that he doesn't care about touring. This again doesn't fit the movie character. If Varg was desperate for attention, rock-star status, and the groupies that come with it, then why wouldn't he want to go on tour? But this was a widespread attitude in the Black Metal scene at the time, one adopted by other influential acts like Darkthrone, and it signifies their rejection of the commercialization of Black Metal and, more generally, their opposition to the modern world. But again, the movie fails to capture this aspect of Varg's personality.

Overall, Lords of Chaos is an engaging movie that takes a stab (lol) at portraying the main characters and bloody events associated with the birth of Norwegian Black Metal. There's no shortage of gore and brutality in this movie, and the depictions of Dead and Euronymous are very striking, tasteful, and memorable. The only portrait that doesn't ring true is that of Varg. The movie showcases Varg only as an attention-seeking, power-hungry, womanizing thug and completely ignores, although hints at, his spiritual, intellectual side. This is mainly because of the Hollywood formula of hero vs. villain the creators apply to a complex reality that has many grey areas. Why isn't Euronymous the villain? A sellout and a poser who took advantage of Varg and his talents for his own gain? Is he a victim just because he ended up stabbed in the head? Or, better still, why should we look for a hero in this story? Maybe we deal with two anti-heroes who pose complicated challenges to our belief systems. Maybe our story-telling should follow that human complexity rather than forcing it into pre-existing molds.  

Black Metal and Lucian Blaga (the pregnant darkness)

I love black metal to the point of obsession. I've been under its spell for a few years now. I dig both the early pioneers of the genre, like Burzum, Mayhem, Dark Throne, Emperor, and Immortal, and later explorers like Behemoth, Belphegor, Gorgoroth, Watain, Marduk, Negura Bunget, Shining and Inquisition. Initially, the music was characterized by low production, cold, harsh, repetitive riffs, shrieked inhuman sounding vocals, relentless, aggressive drumming, and more melodic, sublime instrumental parts that seemed to form gradually from the primordial chaos of the more aggressive parts. After the late '80s and early '90s there was an explosion of black metal sub-genres: Satanic Black Metal, Ambient/Pagan Black Metal, Depressive/Suicidal Black Metal and others. Each sub-genre came with its own musical style but they all evolved from the stylistic matrix of early black metal.

Gorgoroth 

Black metal also comes with its own imagery and lyrical content. It's about nature, deep forests, majestic snow-peaked mountains, fog and darkness, ancient mythology and Paganism, the Dark Ages, Satanism and occultism, loneliness and despair, self-destruction and suicide. On album covers and during live performances musicians wear corpse-paint, black outfits, and spikes on their arms and legs. They do their best to look and sound as grim and sinister as possible and sometimes, under the spell of their music, they end up cutting themselves or members of the audience, drinking their own blood and letting it drip on their chins. (Make no mistake, this is different than a GWAR concert, the blood isn't fake.) The atmosphere of the shows is that of a ritual where evil forces are being summoned, and possess the musicians. Fire-breathing, inverted, burning crosses and heads of sheep or pigs impaled on spikes came to define black-metal shows.

Reflecting on my obsession with black metal, I realized that one of the things that attracted me to it was its esoteric, obscure, mystery-generating power. Black metal is a very suggestive style, it suggests what is hidden from view, it's a burning arrow shot into darkness, a light that makes the darkness even more solid and threatening. Hence the repeated images of woods, and sharp mountain peaks, deep, forgotten lakes and caves. When you go up a trail in a forested mountain, all around you is hidden, even in daylight. By contrast, walking down a city sidewalk, everything is open to view. Deep caves and lakes are also archetypal representations of the unknown and terrifying.

The esoteric character of black metal comes in sharp focus when we compare black metal to death metal. Most death metal is about rape and torture, serial killers, and flesh-eating zombies. But this music is all in the light, out in the open, and that makes it less dangerous, less insidious. And it has very limited expressive power. I mean, you can kidnap a girl, drag her in your basement, rape and strangle her, stab her body brutally, eat her flesh and then vomit it and then rape the mangled corpse again and again and again till you feel nauseous. But this is a scene that everyone can see in the smallest details. There are no shadows in death metal. In other words, while death metal is the sound of torture, brutality and morbidity, black metal is a cold, deep vibration which hypnotizes your very soul and takes it to the brink of madness. Only the grimness of black metal can darken your spirit. By contrast, the relentless violence of death metal can only infect and decompose your flesh.

Thinking of this mystery-generating power of black metal reminded me of Romanian philosopher and poet Lucian Blaga. The concept of mystery is at the heart of Blaga's philosophical system. Understanding how this notion relates in his system to human existence, cultural style and the hidden powers of the unconscious can throw some light on black metal, and into what glues together its various sub-genres. Conversely, black metal can be a great place to start toward grasping Blaga's philosophy. I'm not going to follow all these connections in this post, but rather clear some paths for future explorations.  

According to Blaga, man is essentially a seeker of knowledge and revelation regarding the universe and his place in it. But, on his view, the unknown is a mystery that could never be fully revealed.

Romanian philosopher Lucian Blaga 
(1895-1961)

"Blaga's world was saturated with mysteries of all kinds [...]. For him mystery was not the completely unknowable but an obscurity not yet adequately illuminated. It was full of meaning precisely because it concealed so much, and this overpowering incitement to investigation led Blaga to the depths of the human psyche and the furthest limits of human reason.

Man's vocation could be none other than to reveal mystery and that, in so doing, he became a creator of culture.

Blaga was intrigued by how man approached the unknowable, that is, by what mechanisms he created culture, and thus he was led to investigate cultural style. By the term style he didn't mean the outward form of a work of art or literature, but rather its manner of being. It was style that imbued works of art and literature and even entire ethnic communities and historical periods with their unique character; it was style that revealed the hidden side of human nature and thus became the principal means of objectifying human spirituality; and it was style that caused creativity to differ from individual to individual, people to people, and period to period.

Beside mystery, the unconscious was an indispensable component of Blaga's theory of style. Indeed, he located the source of style in the unconscious, and, thus, his theory of style and his entire philosophy of culture were based on the presupposition that creative acts such as the structuring of a work of art, a philosophical theory, or a scientific hypothesis were directed by powers beyond the control of the conscious. As he put it, style was the "supreme yoke" which held an author, a current, or an entire culture in bondage and from which none could escape. Although he didn't question the important contribution that the conscious made to the external elaboration of style, he denied that man's fundamental way of being, his "inner style," could be substantially altered by his own will.

Blaga argued, the unconscious was a psychic reality possessing it own "sovereign" functions and an internal order and equilibrium of unlimited creative virtues. He admired Jung especially for having enriched the doctrine of the unconscious through his theory of psychic archetypes, which Blaga adapted for his own conception of the unconscious categories, and through his theory of the collective unconscious, which helped Blaga account for the continuity of cultural style throughout the centuries.

The categories of the unconscious are determinants of style, and, grouped together, they formed a general pattern, or "stylistic matrix," which imposed itself on every culture and endowed it with individuality.

Blaga was fascinated not only with the theoretical aspects of style, but eagerly undertook to apply his ideas to Romanian culture, explaining its uniqueness by using the categories of the unconscious stylistic matrix. He concentrated on the rural world, where he thought the main constituent elements of Romanian spirituality lay. He conceived of the Romanian village as the locale of the organic, pre-eminently human mode of existence, the place of the generating sources of the native culture were strongest and purest. In fact, when he spoke of "culture" he meant the creative life of the village, and it was through this culture, "our eternity revealed in time,"  that the Romanians participated in the great adventure of cosmic creation. He contrasted this culture, a product of the "rural soul," with "civilization," whose embodiment was the city, the mechanized, bourgeois world, whose collapse seemed to him close at hand. For him, the great urban center of the twentieth century was the locale of the "non-creative" preoccupations such as the accumulation of positive knowledge and the formulation of rationalistic conceptions; it was the place where man lost his "cosmic sentiment" and his attachment to the specifically human, organic mode of existence. But the village was for him always the preeminent zone of mythical thought, which assimilated concrete appearances and enabled man to enter into a creative relationship with existence." (Keith Hitchins' Introduction to the English Translation of Blaga's play Zalmoxis, Obscure Pagan)

Armed with these basic concepts of Blaga's philosophy we can now take a closer look at black metal's sub-genres and see that what ties all of them together is their power to reveal mystery. During the wave of media craze in Norway following the church burnings and other criminal activities related to the black metal milieu in the early '90s, the members of the movement were called Satanists. This label had a good shock value and increased newspaper sales and TV ratings. Later on, Varg Vikernes, the creative force behind Burzum, went to great lengths in arguing that none of the people in their movement were actual Satanists, but rather anti-Christians and seekers of the lost, forgotten spirit of Norse mythology and ancient Nordic customs and traditions (check interview here). But, leaving aside the politics surrounding this issue, both the Christian image of Satan as God's Accuser and Opposer AND the revival of the pagan Nordic Gods are both creations meant to reveal mystery. So, in spite of Varg's clarification, there has been an inflation of outstanding Satanic Black Metal bands like the pioneers Mayhem and Beherit, and later acts like Watain, Belphegor, Behemoth and Inquisition, to name just a few. Mayhem's second album is called  De Mysteriis Dom Sathanas. The name speaks for itself, reinforcing my point.

So, Satan is a romantic figure who rebels against God and forges his own path. It's a symbol of the individual's struggle to challenge the order imposed on him, free himself and embark on a quest toward knowledge and self-improvement. Lucifer is the bringer of light. Thus, the figure of Satan naturally lends itself to black metal. Dagon from Inquisition makes this point vivid in the interview below. 

Similarly, the destruction of Christianity and revival of ancient pagan deities is also an instance of man as a mystery creator. Eradicating Christianity reveals a mystery, a lost, forgotten world of runes and ancient artifacts. Something we should piece together from bits and pieces that still survive today. It's also an inner journey, a spiritual quest of a pre-Christian mode of being, a time when man was more closely attuned to the rhythms of the cosmos. This is why Blaga says that the village is the preeminent zone of mythical thought.

This conclusion of Blaga's philosophy has been followed by critically-acclaimed Romanian ambient/folk black metal band Negura Bunget. In one of his interviews, Negru, drummer and founder of the band, describes pre-Christian rituals and traditions which still survive in the countryside. One of these is Sînzienele. "On Sînziene people put fairies at their doors and windows as a means of protection against evil fairies and spirits. The magical ritual is based on a symbolic association of the sun with the flowers, the Fairies and the garland wreathed of those flowers. The Fairies embody some of the characteristic features of plants. Another type of ritual consisted of a torch lighting symbolizing the invincibility of the sun during the longest day of the year. Torches used to be lighted on the hills surrounding the villages the night before the celebration and afterward spun in the air and thrusted in the middle of the orchards and cornfields." Below is an awesome video by Negura Bunget. 

Regarding the importance of the countryside as an inspiration for Negura Bunget's music, Negru adds: "There are still original traditions being kept around the country, but they are disappearing slowly. Fortunately, Romania has still parts of the country which are not connected with the modern world...no roads, electricity of phones...so people living in those areas still keep traditions and practices in their original forms."

Finally, just like Satanic and Pagan Black Metal, Depressive/Suicidal Black Metal is also a revelation of mystery. Depressive Black Metal focuses on self-destruction as a way of attaining higher knowledge. Revelation or shining, as  Niklas Kvarforth from Shining puts it. In this context, the normal functioning of our cognitive and physical systems are a veil which hides reality as it is in itself. So, the process of self-destruction, through drugs or other excesses is nothing but a deliberate attempt to look beyond that veil. The idea of mortifying one's body to attain the absolute truth is not new and has been put in practice by mystics of various religions since the dawn of time. But, as Blaga claims, the unknown is a mystery that could never be FULLY revealed. One way of understanding this is by reminding ourselves that reality always reveals itself to a conscious subject in a form that fits that subject's mind. So a mind monitoring its own destruction is still a mind, a subject, which perceives reality as it appears to him, not as it is in itself. Thus, no matter whether we perceive the world with our physical eyes or with our inner, psychic third eye, the world will be framed by darkness, never fully present, always partially hidden.

I finish with a note on black metal symbolism. The color black is associated with Saturn, the Roman god of generation, dissolution, plenty, agriculture, periodic renewal and liberation. Black is the color of the earth and of the night. Always on a quest, restless creators lit torches and throw them into the blackness. Darkness is thus the place of origin, of birth and rebirth. It's always pregnant with new terrifying and sublime sights, with magical, dreamy landscapes. As Nietzsche said, "When you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you." And the music that accompanies that deep, hypnotic gaze is black metal.