In his essay Reazionario o conservatore?, Gianandrea de Antonellis offers a thought-provoking meditation on political terminology too often conflated, whether deliberately or carelessly, in modern discourse. It will serve as the preface to the forthcoming edition of historian Francesco Leoni’s seminal 1972 work, Il pensiero controrivoluzionario nella storia d’Italia (Counterrevolutionary Thought in the History of Italy), soon to be published by Solfanelli (Chieti). Given how frequently terms like “reactionary,” "counter-revolutionary," "traditionalist," and “conservative” are used interchangeably, I thought it worthwhile to make this essay accessible to English-speaking readers. Far from a pedantic exercise in semantics, de Antonellis’s reflection seeks to restore clarity and precision to a language increasingly blurred by ideological convenience.In part one—Metodologia della rivoluzione (The Methodology of Revolution)—de Antonellis presents a concise critique of modern perceptions of “revolution,” arguing that the term has shifted from denoting the radical destruction of tradition to being equated with positive innovation, thus masking its inherently nihilistic method of erasing the past to rebuild from nothing.
“The shift of the concept of revolution from the political sphere (thus especially confined to historiography) to the artistic and technological realm (extended to the world of everyday objects) has led to a transformation of the perception of the adjective revolutionary in a positive sense—and consequently, of the noun it derives from. It is no longer associated with the radical upheaval of the traditional order, but rather with innovation, implying an intrinsic improvement in the object in question: revolutionary novelty, which once referred to the alteration of the status quo (obviously for the worse), now denotes changes that are a priori understood as improvements.
“In reality, the concept of revolution—regardless of the goals it proposes or the results it achieves—is, methodologically speaking, intrinsically linked to the will to make a tabula rasa and begin ex nihilo, that is, to destroy everything that exists and rebuild from scratch, even going so far as to start with the calendar. This stands in contrast to the modus operandi, for example, of sound scientific research, in which innovations are grafted onto previous investigations with a typically traditionalist methodology: taking the best of the past and seeking to improve it further.”
Then, in principio era l’Ordine (In the Beginning Was Order)—a powerful critique of the Revolution as disorder opposed to a primordial order—the author argues that true counterrevolution seeks restoration, not compromise, yet often fails by preserving revolutionary effects.
“And who fights against the revolution? One often hears the phrase ‘Revolution and Counterrevolution,’ always stated in that sequence, which is correct but incomplete. Indeed, chronologically (and logically) speaking, the Revolution is not an initial stage but a subsequent one, opposing a pre-existing state of Order (the kosmos). Unlike what Greek myths suggest (‘In the beginning was Chaos’), our culture begins history with an opposing concept: ‘In the beginning was Order,’ the Kosmos, or, in evangelical terms, the Logos (‘ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος,’ reads the prologue or initium Evangelii secundum Ioannem, traditionally read at the end of every Mass in its Latin version).
“Order, therefore, always precedes Revolution (i.e., Disorder). Counterrevolution (that is, ‘the opposite of Revolution and not a contrary Revolution,’ to quote Joseph de Maistre) follows Revolution both chronologically and logically, yet it postulates nothing other than a ‘return to Order.’
“This latter element—Counterrevolution—is almost a natural aspect of the quest for Order and the consequent rejection of Chaos. Indeed, wherever (or nearly wherever) the Revolution has sought (often quite successfully) to destroy Order, there has also been an attempt to return to the initial status: from the classical dramatic structure of restorative resolution to the various Insurrections (against Jacobinism, Napoleonism, Bolshevism, etc.), a spontaneous attempt to reestablish the primordial model follows any disruption of the original (if only relatively greater) peace.
“Thus, instead of the dichotomy ‘Revolution–Counterrevolution,’ we should speak of ‘Order–Revolution,’ or better yet, of the triad ‘Order–Revolution–Counterrevolution’ or ‘Order–Revolution–Anti-revolution.’
“This triad, however, is not to be confused with the Hegelian one of thesis–antithesis–synthesis, in which an element generates its opposite and finally reconciles with it. No such compromise (i.e., no synthesis) can exist between Order and Revolution. The Hegelian synthesis is evolutionary—it aims to produce a development (A–B–C); anti-revolution, instead, is restorative—it aims to return to the origins (A–B–A). For this reason, the so-called ‘Restoration’ of 1815 is nothing but a conservative synthesis of most of the effects of the French Revolution and the ensuing Napoleonic occupation.
“It must be acknowledged, moreover, that anti-revolution—historically speaking—has almost always (if not always) failed. Instead of realizing a return to the original state (A–B–A), counterrevolutionary movements (from the Vendée to the Cruzada) have at best managed to moderate and limit the effects of the revolution and often even conserve them (that is, A–B–C, if not A–B–B♭ [flat or diminished], or even just A–B–B, thus always retaining the revolutionary effect, only somewhat diluted—or crystallizing it by halting further development, but not reversing it).
“Naturally, in this case, we are referring to the results achieved by the counterrevolutionary struggle, undertaken in good faith to restore Order—not to the objectives of bad faith political strategies pursued by the moderate and conservative parties to whom the Carlist philosopher Jaime Balmes (1810–1848) referred in his famous aphorism: ‘The conservative party preserves the effects of the Revolution; the moderate party merely moderates its impulses.’
“The Revolution’s success is due to the fact that it functions like a highly trained and specialized army, in which the vanguard (the progressives) identifies the objectives, the center (the reformists) conquers the initial positions, and while it continues its advance, the rearguard (the conservatives, precisely) consolidates them—convincing their followers that it’s better to stay put rather than try to go back, lest a fracture be created, and that to preserve social peace, the ‘lesser evil’ must be accepted. Since the army of the Revolution always moves in the direction of the worse, today’s ‘greater evil becomes tomorrow’s ‘lesser evil.’
“On the subject of the lesser evil theory—particularly popular during every electoral campaign—it is worth noting that among supposedly traditionalist (but in reality nostalgic-conservative) circles, the idea has recently gained traction that a return to the recent past should be considered positive, since that past is often objectively better than the present. However, they fail to realize that the same recent past is the remote or even direct cause of the current situation. Certainly, in a moment of motus in fine velocior, the period just past may appear preferable to the present, but one must understand that postulating a return to the immediate past does not constitute a solution. On the contrary, it risks being a grave miscalculation: confusing cause with cure, mistaking the source of the present malaise for a possible remedy.
“Perhaps the concept is better understood with the following metaphor. The Revolution is a spear: what wounds is certainly the tip, but the metal point itself would not be so dangerous—being shorter than a dagger and less maneuverable than a simple knife—were it not connected to the wooden shaft. And this shaft is the result of the accretion of past errors, of their gradual sedimentation. In other words, it is the present that wounds, but it is the past that gives it the strength to do so.”
Next, in Rivoluzione e reazione (Revolution and Reaction), de Antonellis expands on the critique of reactionary, fascist, and conservative movements as pseudo-counterrevolutionary, showing that most operated within the framework of modern revolutionary thought, unlike true anti-revolution, which restores divine order.
“One term often used to indicate anti-revolution (generally pejoratively by revolutionaries) is reaction. Etymologically speaking, it merely denotes a movement contrary to the revolutionary one, but not necessarily in the direction of a total return to origins (i.e., anti-revolution). Indeed, there can also exist an ‘extremist revolutionary reaction,’ anti-moderate, which rejects any tempering of the Revolution.
“In general, however, the term reactionary, while not synonymous with traditionalist, comes closer to the concept of anti-revolution than does conservative, which—whether consciously or not—is a tool of the Revolution, as seen in the earlier army metaphor.
“Moreover, certain twentieth-century movements that appeared counterrevolutionary (perhaps because they emerged in opposition to the excesses of the Bolshevik revolution) actually stemmed from the same revolutionary mindset, albeit in a more moderate form (here again we must recall the aforementioned warning of Balmes).
“Even the various forms of European fascism considered themselves revolutionary: Italian Fascism openly spoke of a ‘Fascist Revolution’ and referred to itself as the ‘Second Risorgimento,’ thus presenting itself as the heir of the ‘Italian Revolution.’ This is not merely a matter of semantics: the roots of fascism are not traditional but modern, given that many of its leaders and ideologues came from activist left-wing movements, secret societies (including Freemasonry), secularist cultures, or from false traditions fabricated at the desk—first among them the neopaganism particularly evident in Nazi Germany’s mythopoetic rituals, such as torchlight processions held during specific solar calendar events.
“Whether it was in fact anti-Christian (as in German National Socialism), indifferentist or opportunist (as with Italian Fascism or Hungary’s Arrow Cross), apparently or openly Catholic (as with Spanish Falangism, Belgian Rexism, or the Irish Blueshirts), or simply Christian (like Romania’s Iron Guard), the ideology of twentieth-century fascist movements—heirs to Hegelianism and existentialism—operated within the framework of the Revolution (and of Modernity), accepting its principles, and placing either race (Nazism) or the State (Italian Fascism) above all else, rather than God, as is done by Carlism—the highest expression of Catholic political doctrine.”
And finally, in Rivoluzione e Ordine (Revolution and Order), de Antonellis offers a forceful condemnation of the Revolution as inherently anti-Christian and evil, arguing that its horrors—like the Terror or the Final Solution—are not corruptions but necessary outcomes of its principles, which must be rejected absolutely.
“We have already seen how the Revolution—with a capital R, stretching (at least so far) from Humanism to Transhumanism—stands in opposition to Order. What must be understood by Order is nothing other than the natural and Christian order, born from the fusion of the highest Greco-Roman culture with the principles of Christianity.
“The Revolution, therefore, is inherently anti-Christian, even when it pretends not to be. It is always a malum, and must always be rejected, as it is in constant warfare against Christendom—whether major, minor, or minimal—and the natural order (or what remains of it).
“Thus, it is necessarily an evil and always an enemy. Consequently, there is no such thing as a ‘good’ revolution, whose negative fruits are merely unintended consequences or unwanted degenerations. The Terror—Jacobin or Stalinist—is not a mere degeneration of the French or Bolshevik Revolutions, which, under this distorted view, were at first positive (if not outright ‘necessary’) and only later became corrupted due to the wickedness of some of their leaders. Rather, the Terror is the natural consequence of Revolution, a truly ‘necessary’ phase; just as the concentration camps or the ‘Final Solution’ are not mere ‘errors along the way,’ but the logical conclusion of a racist and eugenicist mindset present from the very beginning in those who forged the ideology from which National Socialism was born (e.g., the Thule Society, itself ‘indebted’ to the Theosophical Society).
“Jacobin and Stalinist terrors, or the various ‘final solutions,’ are merely a few examples of the necessary consequences of revolutionary principles: the cases are (unfortunately) numerous and (again, unfortunately) not limited to the past.
“To respond to the ‘justificationists,’ let us recall the words of another Carlist thinker, Juan Vázquez de Mella (1861–1928): ‘You cannot crown the causes and then hang the consequences.’”
~ By Giovanni di Napoli, July 22nd, Feast of Santa Maria Maddalena
* Translations are my own.
