The Great Man: Part One

An ode to my father and son: on strong bonds, legacy, Great Men, and the future of the West

This is the beginning of a series of essays on legacy and how we might build a fertile ground for the emergence of a Great Man in the coming decades. Half of this post was written instead as a kind of journal entry while travelling, then edited somewhat afterward. This serves as a personal preamble and introduction to the concept upon which I shall elaborate. The latter part brings together an aligning focus that marries Thomas Carlyle’s Great Man Theory and my own ideas about the West’s legacy and future. If you’d rather not read about the personal aspects – the “blog” elements of this poast – scroll down to the Great Man Redux subheader (just below the first image).

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A Missive in Transit

There’s something special about writing on the train, especially so when it’s by pen. Such spaces, I find, often cause reflection and introspection to flourish.

Where am I going?

Bratislava. The old man and I are to meet there and spend some quality time together. It’s the first time in more than thirteen years we’ll be together for more than three days alone, and I’m elated.

I’m also a little worried if I’m honest. Perhaps apprehensive is the best word. I can hear the boy’s voice in my head, too:

‘But why apprehensive, Apa?¹ Why?’ (yes, he really will repeat big words like that to me; children are unrivaled at mimicry)

It’s because there’s always a tension between my father and I; there’s no nonsense and no sugar-coating – sometimes he’ll just tell me he’s not interested in discussing a topic further. In the moment, I can respond belligerently, I can snap at him, be rude, or deride a thought or opinion he has. He’ll remain staunch usually – rarely apologizing – yet there’s no malice – not ever.

He’ll stay in Budapest for a few days, head somewhere else to “give us a break”, and return.

In the time in between I reflect on our conversations and, almost without fail, realize that he was right. He’s not right about everything, but probably a fair amount more than I am. Age combined with a life lived fully generates profound wisdom – the kind he has in oodles.

Full disclosure: my old man may be the man I most look up to on Earth. We share a sense of dark humour, most of our values, and a rich past, replete with great memories.

Growing up, I soon became aware of who he was and what – at least in some ways – he was defined by. Creative director at a global ad agency, then at his own company. Though I’m sure he’d dispute it, he seemed a legend. A lofty figure: cool, hip, suave, and most importantly fun. We played at the arcade together. Later, we fought through video games via the LAN network at his office. We’d go out for dinner often; and mostly, he was cooler than me.

None of this meant I’d become exactly like him. It was my mother who raised me, after all; my parents divorced when I was seven.

What it did mean, however, was that I had a figure within the family to aspire to. And when my boy was born, I’ll never forget what he told me:

‘You want your children to be more than you.’

I’m not sure if I am – how does one even measure something so abstract and subjective? – but I’m better than I was; I’ve achieved a lot. But here’s what matters most of all: he was right (again, that jammy bastard!). I want my son to be more. He inspires me every day to push harder and maintain the all-too-British stiff upper lip.

Because one day, I want to be that figure to my son. I want him to think of the inspiring, but occasionally harsh and honest words his old man told him. I want him to look upon what I do with a kind of awe, reverence, and wonder that I did with my dad.

To fail to achieve that would feel heartbreaking. Using my dad as inspiration, I’ve often felt the need to push and push, to believe in myself in moments I otherwise wouldn’t have.

This is the essence of building or continuing a legacy, is it not? The act of forging an unbreakable line of men; men of charisma and creativity, men of strength and resilience – great men.

We are not warriors like those of the Bronze and Iron Age – despite the LARPing tendencies of some – but we can have an impact. I would posit that it is through such legacies that truly great men are borne unto the world, the kind of Great Man which Thomas Carlyle envisaged changing history.² Such men were a product of history, circumstance, legacy, and – of course – Providence.

Am I saying my son could become that man of Destiny?

No, not really. Though there is something to be said about being in the right place at the right time. Future bilingual Hungarian Emperor, anyone?³

Could that be…? NO! I wonder if Frank Herbert believed in the Great Man theory of history. No… surely not! Image courtesy of ArtOfChamil on deviantart.com.

The Great Man Redux

I posit that Thomas Carlyle’s Great Man theory has not been as thoroughly routed as some would like it to have been. In fact, Scientific American seems intent on encouraging the view that men were not even the primary hunters in the prehistoric era.⁴ Such rife propaganda lends a healthy amount of skepticism relating to contemporary historians, too. This is especially true when one accounts for the book’s heavy focus on the Divine (and not an exclusively Christian rendition of the Divine, either). The powers that be are all too eager to deride and attack anything that ignites a religious purpose within native Westerners (read: actual purpose beyond the elevation and exaltation of the self), and this is especially true for Christianity.

The battle for the soul of the West is a long one, however – one that will take generations. Too much damage has been done; thus, it will take time to repair the situation. Five, ten, twenty – even fifty – years does not seem too outlandish an estimate.

We must remember, however, that this moment need not be ours. Perhaps it is simply the monetary incentives that exist on Substack, or rather a desire to solve everything now. Make no mistake: the united factions of the Right are likely to be at the core of a spiritual rebirth of the West, yet it can just as easily be our children who will bring about change. It is them who we must nurture into greatness, providing an unbroken legacy of men⁵ who look on, steely-eyed and optimistic, toward the future. Men who are willing to forego an easy life within the confines of the Regime’s narratives, or who do not seek the empty ethos encapsulated by “the pursuit of happiness.” Great men do not care for happiness; they manifest virtue, strength, and courage, taking up the sword against the vagaries and excesses of a perverted age. They have honor and a sense of duty, responsibility, and logos. Building a legacy that can bring these men into being – that might give Providence a chance to strike – should be a focus, and this begins by building profound relationships with one’s children.

Similarly, we must remember the pivotal role women play in all of this, for it is they who guide and nourish our children in ways that are worthy of our utmost respect and love.

Only under such legacies can truly great men rise and prosper once more, recreating power, purpose, and meaning in a Divine sense.

Western societies need not collapse under a competency crisis brought about by an obsessive striving for egalitarianism; they need not crumble to dust before we may revive and build them anew. Indeed, Carlyle shared this ideal, speaking about it at length in The Hero as Divinity section of his tome. In his mind, the Great Man transcended all and could serve as a catalyst for historic change in any time period. Though quarrel could be taken with his arguments and theories, there is great wisdom in his words:⁶

“For if we will think of it, no Time need have gone to ruin, could it have found a man great enough, a man wise and good enough: wisdom to discern truly what the Time wanted, valor to lead it on the right road thither; these are the salvation of any Time. But I liken common languid Times, with their unbelief, distress, perplexity, with their languid doubting characters and embarrassed circumstances, impotently crumbling down into ever worse distress towards final ruin;—all this I liken to dry dead fuel, waiting for the lightning out of Heaven that shall kindle it. The great man, with his free force direct out of God's own hand, is the lightning. His word is the wise healing word which all can believe in. All blazes round him now, when he has once struck on it, into fire like his own... In all epochs of the world's history, we shall find the Great Man to have been the indispensable savior of his epoch;—the lightning, without which the fuel never would have burnt. The History of the World, I said already, was the Biography of Great Men.”

Such insightful writings have been lost in an age of slop content, as have the kind of men who wrote thusly. To that end, let us look upon the man who penned these transcendent words:

Now there’s a real Scotsman. I’m not so sure Mr. Carlyle would look upon “Scotsmen” like Humza Yousaf and his bile-ridden diatribes with kindness in his eyes.

Long ago, when I first envisioned starting a Substack, I wrote an essay responding to N.S. Lyons’ “The Right’s Future Must be Parallel, and Counter-Revolutionary”, wherein he makes a multitude of arguments for a kind of parallel polity. He rounds it off by speaking of a metaphorical crown in the mud:

If our future is instead a continued slide deeper into managerial totalitarianism, we will be much better off with resilient, organized parallel structures from which to mount a resistance.

And if, God forbid, the future means an unfortunate, chaotic descent into anarchy and civil struggle, it is the faction possessing the most organized and extensive parallel structures that will be poised to prevail, restore order, and take on the task of governing anew.

So, what is to be done? Today in the West there is an abandoned crown lying in the mud, waiting to be picked up. My message to the right is simple: pick it up. Before somebody else does.

A parallel polity is needed and has been achieved elsewhere to some extent. Hungary is one example, yet the reality of the situation is more complex. Many Hungarians who have knowledge of the country on a far deeper level would take issue with Mr. Lyons’ characterization of Hungary as a “beacon for despairing conservatives around the world.” They would find his ideas painfully reductive – as was made apparent during the countless discussions I’ve had with Hungarians on the matter. Regardless, I am not here to discuss Hungarian politics, and one fact remains true: true Western values will need to be restored if progressivism is ever to be overthrown. As it currently stands, Hungarian culture embodies many of those values.

When one considers the metaphorical crown in the mud, one can easily imagine a disparate path coming into existence. Is it just the manifold factions of the Right that seek to crush the current order, or do many wish to see it brought low? Do the masses, too, suffer under the enervating technocracy, reeling in its suffocating malaise? I would offer that they do. An alliance against managerialism is required, one that rises above the partisanship of the online age.

For one who comes to this argument withholding a polarizing identity of being on the Right or Left⁷ – one free of said partisanship and the desire to see the cravenness of the times through purely a political lens – there are other ways and means. There is the side of humanity; there is good for us in the long term. An essential ability to delineate must be cultivated; an ability to differentiate between good and evil, right and true, wise and prudent.

How can we know what the next few generations will bring? The numbers point to a Western population collapse, that’s true, yet what will our children make of it? Will they simply wilt and wither under the all-encompassing technocracy and ever-escalating atomization of the individual? I think not – not if we guide them correctly. They must be taught the lessons in reality, determination, and humility that they need. They must be made to see the beauty in the world, in logic; in truth. For it is they who shall take up the crown in the mud, ignited by the unassailable passion and fervour of youth. When I look into my son’s eyes I see endless possibilities. What we – again, humanity – will be capable of remains, as of yet, undetermined.

One thing is clear: there is a narrow way through.

For me, it starts in Bratislava, rebuilding and strengthening the deep connections, shared memories, and plans between father and son. Like everything else, it starts on an individual level. Pray tell, dear reader, where does it start for you?

In time, there shall be a furtherance, and a place for Great Men once more. Men who shall ascend and restore an ancient order of valour, righteousness, and heroism. Divine men aided by legacy and Providence, who shall shape the Western world anew.

1. “Apa” is Hungarian for dad. Bilingual children are amazing. Right now, my son favours it over the simple “dad”, “dada”, or “daddy.”

2. My familiarity with Carlyle’s work comes from his book, On Heroes, Hero Worship and the Heroic in History, a publishing of which can be found here, online in PDF format.

3. A father can dream, can’t he?

4. Yes, that Scientific American – the one that endorsed Kamala Harris.

5. And women? I’m not so sure. History and the reality of disagreeable vs agreeable traits seem to prove that it is men who take up the mantle of leadership in hard times and in times of spiritual renewal and rebirth.

6. Reference: Carlyle, Thomas. On Heroes, Hero-Worship, & the Heroic in History. Chapman and Hall, 1840

7. To be clear, I am speaking in broad terms here. I would consider myself on the Right, even if I still hold classical liberalism in some reverence. Tying oneself to a single ideology seems foolish in the extreme, especially so when considering the times we live in.