There is no political solution.

Dr. Gilfedder’s article in Islander VI follows the pattern of all the best parts of the magazine: penetrating insight and worthwhile thought which stops a crucial step short of the mark. His thesis in this article is essentially correct, but he does not link it with the call to Christ which would render its prescription effective. Indeed, a people’s character far-and-away outweighs their politic in power and in endurance, so that politic is eventually determined by character, but merely calling for virtue, even in recognition of many of its truths, is not enough. We must turn to virtue’s actual foundation: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15).

Gilfedder presents, working with the ideas of Carlyle and Wyndham Lewis and Evola among others, the theory that a people’s character, starting from the individual and working outwards, is far more important than the technical form of their politics. Try all the political wunderwaffe in the world, and you will not fix the problems for more than a flash in the pan; to borrow Christ’s expression: “Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first” (Matt. 12:45). There is no ‘Morrison’s pill’ in politics by which all evils can be fixed.

The foundation of politics and of a people’s long-term state is their character over that long term. As Gilfedder rightly observes (p. 61), vile political institutions combined with a robust character can yield unexpectedly healthy results, while the best political heritage in the world means nothing if the people manning and responding to it have abandoned virtue. I’d go so far as to say that if you placed a people of true virtue in the state of having a political system deliberately designed for tyranny and malfunction, you would in short order find them a people governed with exceptional freedom and effectiveness. You would also, to carry forward Gilfedder’s observation that the focus on character may not include an abstention from apt political action, find that the political apparatus was thoroughly altered by its new users.

I have elsewhere discussed the absolute necessity of Christian reformation and revival to beneficial long-term change in our societies. I will, however, tread a part of that ground again to echo and carry forward Gilfedder’s insights. In short: Gilfedder is correct to say that the foundation of effective and actual change, change not confined to the momentary or the minimal, is a wholehearted change in the character of the people, a development of abiding and deep-rooted virtues from which the rest can flow. The means of finding that virtue, however, he does not address sufficiently, for the only way by which men come to true virtue is through salvation.

Unless a man repents and believes that Jesus Christ is Lord, he can only adopt an imitation of virtue. All virtue is an imitation of Christ (Eph. 5:1), for all virtue is prescribed to us in His law (Ps. 119:9; 2 Tim. 3:16-17), without exception (James. 2:8-16). Men apart from God refuse full and true righteousness. Nor can we hope for the wicked man’s facsimile of virtue to last, not on a societal scale. History tells us it won’t, for one. More, the man-against-God stands on a trajectory downwards; he has refused to let go of certain falsehoods and vices. These flaws will spread, destroying all likeness of virtue in time, though the first man does not live to see it. Plato and Aristotle are the first step towards Nero.

The righteous man, while still flawed (1 John 1:10) and never perfect on this earth, stands on a different trajectory, one God promises to propagate, not always uninterrupted, through his family (Ex. 20:6,12). He stands on an upward climb, hard and slippery and interrupted, towards virtue. A people composed of such men, of men whom the Lord brings peace to and through (Is. 26:12), such a people will eventually work out much good, reforming politics as they reform all else.

God, then, is the objective standard by which men are moored. The Christian is never like the man Gilfedder describes in Wyndham Lewis: lost and despairing remedy, in a civilization of subjectivity. The Christian has a sure and steady Rock (2 Sam. 22:3), an objective and unchanging point of reference. His virtue is founded on an eternal reality, the Creator of the universe (Gen. 1:1), having the fruit of the law by the strength of the Gospel (John 1:17; Mark 9:2-13).

Thus, the basic pursuit by which we can save the West, the ‘What is to be done?,’ is given to us quite clearly: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:19-20). For some, this means political action, whether to adapt safeguards and slow the descent or to work on reforming towards governmental virtue. For most, it means something else: faithfulness, a long pursuit of understanding (Prov. 1-3), and hard work in our appointed vocation, the places He calls us to in this world.

Each Christian should strive towards the maturity of an elder. We ought to be beacons of light and of wisdom, the men and women who shape our neighbors by example. Such Paul calls us to in 1 & 2 Timothy, as well as in Titus. We must seek understanding of Him and of His image, mankind; we must apply that understanding carefully and continuously, developing wisdom. We must be people of virtue, drawing others towards that same goal. The goal here is not a new intelligentsia. It is a solid substrate of men and women practiced in virtue and passing that virtue on, first to their children and simultaneously to all those around them, united by a common love for Him and united in the truth of His word, often intelligent and to each individual’s capability knowledgeable in wisdom but distinguished by character, by love for Him, and by faith which shapes all else.

God bless.