The “Baphomet” of Eliphas Lévi:Its Meaning and Historical Context

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The “Baphomet” of Eliphas Lévi:

Its Meaning and Historical Context

the Baphomet drawn by Eliphas Lévi (i.e., Alphonse-Louis Constant, 1810–1875) is one of  the most famous esoteric images worldwide, very little is known about its context of  emergence. It is well established that it has to be seen as a symbolic representation of Lévi’s magnetistic-magical concept of  the Astral Light, but the historical background of  this meaning remains largely obscure. This article demonstrates that a historical contextualization of  the Baphomet leads to an understanding of its meaning that is signicantly different from prevalent interpretations. It will rstly be shown that the formation of Lévi’s historical narrative can only be comprehended in the light of  his radical socialist writings from the 1840s. It will then be discussed which sources he used to elaborate and re-signify this narrative. Secondly, it will be investigated how Lévi developed his magical theory in the 1850s by focusing on the contexts of “spiritualistic magnetism,” Spiritism, and Catholicism. This analysis will show that the Baphomet should be seen as more than a symbolization of Lévi’s magical theory. It is the embodiment of  a politically connoted tradition of “true religion” which would realize a synthesis of  religion, science, and politics.KeywordsEliphas Lévi; Baphomet; occultism; socialism; Catholicism; magnetismJulian Strube E-mail: julian...@zegk.uni-heidelberg.de© 2016 Julian StrubeThis is an open-access article distributed under the terms of  the Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79381. IntroductionEliphas Lévi’s androgynous, goat-headed “Baphomet” is one of  the most widely spread images with esoteric background. The drawing was originally published in the rst livraisons of  Lévi’s famous Dogme de la haute magie, pub-lished by Guiraudet et Jouaust in 1854, and featured as the frontispiece for the two-volume edition of Dogme et rituel de la haute magie, published by Germer Baillière in 1855–1856, and for the extended second edition of 1861 (gure 1). Today, the image and its countless variations are highly popular in new religious movements and subcultures, most notably the various metal or gothic scenes. It is frequently used in decidedly provocative counter-cultural contexts. In 2015, the so-called Satanic Temple unveiled a massive monument inspired by the Baphomet drawing. The statue was intended as a tongue-in-cheek protest against what was perceived as an improperly close relationship between religion and the state. The organizers, who successfully attracted enormous media in-terest, could draw on a close association between the Baphomet, devil worship, and Satanism that had been established at least since the 1960s but reaches back to the end of the nineteenth century.1 In this context, the Baphomet is 1  Cf. Christopher McIntosh, Eliphas Lévi and the French Occult Revival, 2nd ed. (London: Rider, 1975), 206–18 and Ruben van Luijk, “Satan Rehabilitated? A Study Into Satanism During the Nineteenth Century” (Dissertation, Universiteit van Tilburg, 2013), 241–323.(Figure 1)
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 39often—and erroneously—identied with an inverted pentagram superimposed on a goat’s head, a symbol that was rst indicated by Eliphas Lévi himself  and later visualized by occultists such as Stanislas de Guaïta (1861–1897), in his Clef  de la magie noire from 1897.2 This variant was perhaps most prominently used by Anton Szandor LaVey (1930–1997) in his Satanic Bible (1969), where it is explicitly identied as “Baphomet.” It does not come as a surprise, then, that the Baphomet is often associated with Satanism and anti-Christian attitudes.At the same time, it is well known that Eliphas Lévi  hardly qualies as a Satanist, and that the meaning of the drawing, as ghastly as it may appear to the beholder, is neither satanic nor anti-Christian. There is a wealth of academic and non-academic literature that points out Lévi’s intention: a symbolization of  the equilibrium of  opposites. The magnetistic connotation of  this concept was made very explicit by the author, and both early esoteric recipients such as Helena Blavatsky, in 1877, and later scholars such as Christopher McIntosh, in 1975, emphasized this.3 While it is very easy to learn about the notion of  the “Astral Light” that formed the foundation of Lévi’s magnetistic theory, almost no attention has been paid to the actual historical context in which he devel-oped his understanding of  the Baphomet.4 Although it is obvious that Lévi related it to the Knights Templar, the actual sources he used to develop the historical narrative in which he located the Templars has not been investigated. This is mainly due to the fact that most observers more or less implicitly accept the idea that Lévi was the continuator of an esoteric tradition, a rénovateur de l’occultisme, who was less dependent on the historical context of the 1840s and 1850s than on ancient esoteric doctrines.52  Cf. Eliphas Lévi, Dogme et rituel de la haute magie, 2nd ed., 2 vols., vol. 2 (Paris/London/New York: Germer Baillière, 1861), 93–94, 98, and Stanislas de Guaïta, Essais de sciences maudites, vol. 2: Le Serpent de la Genèse, seconde septaine: La clef  de la magie noire (Paris: Henri Durville, 1920), 417.3  Cf. Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, Isis Unveiled: A Master-Key to the Mysteries of  Ancient and Modern Science and Theology, 2 vols., vol. 1 (New York/London: J. W. Bouton/Bernard Quaritch, 1877), 137–38; The Secret Doctrine. The Synthesis of  Science, Religion, and Philosophy, 3rd ed., 3 vols., vol. 1 (London: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1893), 273–74 and McIntosh, Eliphas Lévi, 150.4  With the notable exception of  Karl Baier, Meditation und Moderne. Zur Genese eines Kernbereichs moderner Spiritualität in der Wechselwirkung zwischen Westeuropa, Nordamerika und Asien, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2009), 265–77.5  This was established by Paul Chacornac, Eliphas Lévi. Rénovateur de l’Occultisme en France (1810–1875) (Paris: Chacornac Frères, 1989), who reproduced narratives that were developed by French occultists such as Papus or Stanislas de Guaïta. See Julian Strube, Sozialismus, Katholizisimus und Okkultismus im Frankreich des 19. Jahrhunderts. Die Genealogie der Schriften von Eliphas Lévi, Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten (Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter, 2016), 590–618.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7940In what follows, it will be shown that Lévi’s Baphomet appears in a dif-ferent light if it is historically contextualized. When developing his historical narrative, Lévi was informed by scholarly debates about the emergence and early development of Christianity, which often revolved around the question of  “true” religion and its role in contemporary society. The meaning and intention of this narrative can only be comprehended if  one takes into con-sideration the ideas that he had propagated in the 1840s under his civil name Alphonse-Louis Constant, when he was known as one of the most notorious socialist radicals.6 At that time, he claimed to be the representative of a “true” Catholicism which he opposed to the corrupted Christianity of  the Churches, and which he vehemently identied with “true” socialism. He regarded himself as the latest representative of a long tradition of revolutionary heretics who struggled for the realization of a universal religious association. In the 1850s, he re-signied and elaborated this narrative, now identifying “occultism” with “true Catholicism” and, at times more or less explicitly, with “true socialism.”7 His Baphomet has to be seen as an iconic representation of  this “true” doc-trine, as the Knights Templar were considered to be the successors of the very same heretical revolutionary tradition that reached back to the “Gnostics” of the late ancient School of Alexandria, the environment where the momentous separation between “true” and “false” religion supposedly took place. In this light, the Baphomet is not only a magnetistic symbol representing Lévi’s theory of  magic, but  rst  and foremost an embodiment  of   the one and only  true tradition whose ultimate goal is the establishment of  a perfect social order.2. Lévi’s Depiction of  the BaphometIt is relatively easy to trace the visual inspirations of Lévi’s notorious drawing. Obviously, the Baphomet is depicted by Lévi primarily as a goat-like gure, which is further emphasized  by its identication with the “Goat of  Mendes” or the “sabbatical goat.” Depictions of a horned, goat-like demonic creature, or the devil himself, were widespread. When Lévi wrote his books, the topos of a goat being present at witches’ sabbaths had been commonplace for centuries. Having 6  As this article focuses on the period when Constant wrote under his new pseudonym, he will only be referred to as Eliphas Lévi. His publications, however, will be listed using the name under which they were published.7  Julian Strube, “Socialist Religion and the Emergence of  Occultism: A Genealogical Approach to Socialism and Secularization in 19th-Century France,” Religion 46, no. 3 (2016): 371–79.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 41received an ecclesiastical education, Lévi did repeatedly mention several “classics” of  demonology, such as Jean Bodin’s famous De la demonomanie des sorciers (1580), but he only referred to or cited more recent works, such as Augustin Calmet’s Traité sur les apparitions des esprits et sur les vampires (1758) and Jean Baptiste Thiers’ Traité des superstitions qui regardent les sacrements (1697), where the sabbatical goat is discussed.8 On a graphical level, most readers will be familiar with prints such as those of the Compendium malecarum (1608) that show a goat-headed, winged Devil who bears much resemblance to Lévi’s Baphomet (gure 2). Due to  the omnipresence of  similar depictions, it is both impossible and needless to deter-mine a limited set of sources for this motif. But there is little doubt that the most direct inspiration for the Baphomet drawing was the Tarot card “Le Diable” from the Marseille deck (gure 3), which was regarded by Lévi as the nest surviving version.9 Some other inuences are more or less explicitly mentioned, namely the famous alchemical androgyne in Heinrich Khunrath’s Amphitheatrum sapientiae aeternae (1595, gure 4), as well as a print from 1639 which joins Clovis Hesteau de Nuysement’s Traittez de l’harmonie et constitution generalle du vray sel, secret des philoso-phes, et de l’esprit universel du monde together with other alchemical tracts (gure 5).10 In the beginning of his Dogme, Lévi provided a fairly detailed description of how he understood the symbolism of each element of his eclectically assembled gure.118  Among those, the numerous references to Calmet in Alphonse-Louis Constant, Dictionnaire de littérature chrétienne, ed. Abbé Migne (Paris: J.-P. Migne, 1851), e.g. 249; Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 2, 286–88 and to Thiers in Constant, Dictionnaire, 384; Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 2, 308. Cf. the original passages in Augustin Calmet, Traité sur les apparitions des esprits et sur les vampires, vol. 1 (Senones: Joseph Pariset, 1769), 119–20 and Jean Baptiste Thiers, Traité des superstitions qui regardent les sacrements, vol. 2 (Paris: Antoine Dezallier, 1697), 365–68.9 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 2, 172. Lévi mentioned the “Italian Tarot,” which at the time signied the Tarot of Marseille, as well as the Tarot of Besançon, which was based on the Marseille deck. For further information on Lévi and the Tarot, see Strube, Sozialismus, 442–45, 78–79, 500–01, 61–463 and Ronald Decker, Thierry Depaulis, and Michael Dummett, A Wicked Pack of  Cards: The origins of  the Occult Tarot (London: Duckworth, 1996), esp. 166–93.10  See Clovis Hesteau de Nuysement, Traittez de l’harmonie et constitution généralle du vray sel, secret des philosophes, et de l’esprit universelle du monde, suivant le troisiesme principe du Cosmopolite (La Haye: Theodore Maire, 1639), between the preface and the dedication, cf. Eliphas Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 236 and ibid., 2: 208, 22–23 For more about Hesteau de Nuysement, see Kathleen P. Long, Hermaphrodites in Renaissance Europe:  Women and Gender in the Early Modern World (Aldershot/Burlington: Ashgate, 2006), 137–62. About the engravings in Khunrath, see Peter J. Forshaw, “‘Alchemy in the Amphitheatre’. Some Consideration of the Alchemical Content of  the Engravings in Heinrich Khunrath’s ‘Amphitheatre of Eternal Wisdom’,” in Art and Alchemy, ed. Jacob Wamberg (Kopenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2006).11 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 1, VI–VII. Cf. Ibid., 2: 211–12 and La clef  des grands mystères (Paris:
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7942(Figure 2)(Figure 4) (Figure 5)(Figure 3)
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 43Apart from these visual aspects, the magnetistic context of the Baphomet was expressed repeatedly by Lévi, his publishers, and his critics. In 1854, Guiraudet et Jouaust advertised for Dogme et rituel de la haute magie with an extract from the rst volume, which at that time was still a work in progress.12 The selected passage, which has been abbreviated for the advertisement, is still among the most quoted from Lévi’s oeuvre:There exists in nature a force which is much more powerful than steam. ... This force was known to the ancients: it consists of a universal agent whose supreme law is equilibrium, and whose direction is concerned immediately with the great arcanum of transcendental magic. ... This agent, which barely manifests itself under the trial and error of  the disciples of  Mesmer, is exactly what the adepts of  the Middle Ages called the rst matter of the great work. The Gnostics repre-sented it as the ery body of the Holy Spirit, and it was the object of  adoration in the secret rites of  the Sabbath or the Temple, under the hieroglyphic gure of Baphomet or the Androgynous Goat of  Mendes.13This passages makes perfectly clear that Dogme et rituel was presented and understood as a magnetistic work, which wanted to distance itself from Mesmerist publications. It is remarkable that Lévi did not attempt to challenge other magnetists on the grounds of  practical experiments; instead his argument was a thoroughly historical one. Claiming to possess the key to a tradition of  superior secret, ancient knowledge, he dismissed the “Mesmerists” as amateurish dabblers who could only guess what powers they are dealing with. The protagonists of  Lévi’s tradition are openly named: the medieval “adepts” who were the successors of the ancient Gnostics, most prominent among them the Templars who worshipped the Baphomet. Lévi did not claim to depict the exact idol that was supposedly the object of adoration of  medieval adepts, but he did claim to present an allegorical drawing of the ideas that were represented by it. First and foremost, he described the Baphomet as a “pantheistic and magical gure of the absolute” and identied it with Pan.14 It Baillière, 1861), 234.12  A note informed the readers in the future tense that “this work will be limited to 500” copies and “will be composed of  20 livraisons,” in addition to the present one. Subscribers “before October 15th, 1854” would receive a discount, and if “it should need more than 20 livraisons to complete this work” the additional numbers would be free. This allows for a dating ante quem and shows that the eventual size of the volume was as yet unclear.13 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 1, 83–84. The translations in this article do not rely on Waite’s trans-lations of  Lévi’s works.14  Ibid., VI.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7944was much more than an imaginative symbol for a magnetistic theory. It stood for a specic secret tradition that formed the key to the understanding of  the true form of religion. The narrative that forms this “traditional” background of  the Baphomet has, until recently, not been historically contextualized. It will be shown that the Baphomet is more than a bricolage of older esoteric traditions. Its meaning can only be understood in the context of the 1840s and 1850s.3. Lévi’s Historical Narrative and its SourcesThe fundamental idea behind Lévi’s writings was the existence of a single, true tradition that resulted from a primitive revelation.15 Due to a series of  degenerations and misinterpretations destroying this pristine unity, the reli-gious traditions of  humanity had multiplied, but they all carried traces of  the universal divine dogma. Explaining the meaning of the pentagram that adorns the Baphomet’s head, Lévi declared that “every new cult is just a new route to lead humanity to the one religion, that of the sacred and the radiant penta-gram, the sole eternal Catholicism.”16 It has already been indicated that Lévi had identied as the representative of “true” Catholicism since his radical writings of  the 1840s, a self-understanding that he constantly articulated in his occultist writings. The major inuence on his Catholic identity was the famous priest Félicité de Lamennais (1782–1854), the founder of a so-called “Neo-Catholic” movement that sought to establish a progressive form of  Catholicism that was marked by a rationalistic and scientic stance. After spectacularly breaking with Rome, Lamennais turned to a Christian socialism in 1834 that inspired a whole generation of  young socialists, including Lévi, who was perceived by contem-poraries as one of his most radical disciples.17 A key concept of Lamennais and other Neo-Catholic authors was the révélation primitive, a theory that sought to prove the eternal and exclusive truth of  Catholicism on the basis of “historical evidence” gathered from all religious traditions.18 Lévi’s approach to history decisively relied on this theory, as becomes most obvious in the light of his 15  See, e.g., Histoire de la magie (Paris: Baillière, 1860), 256.16 Dogme et rituel, 2, 98.17  Strube, “Socialist Religion,” 372; “Ein neues Christentum. Frühsozialismus, Neo-Katholizismus und die Einheit von Religion und Wissenschaft,” Zeitschrift für Religions- und Geistesgeschichte 66, no. 2 (2014): 154–60.18  For more details, see Sozialismus, 190–96; “Socialist Religion,” 377 and Arthur McCalla, “The Mennaisian ‘Catholic Science of  Religion’: Epistemology and History in Early Nineteenth-Century French Study,” Method and Theory in the Study of  Religion 21, no. 3 (2009).
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 45constant emphasis on the true tradition being nothing else but “Catholicism.”19 Similar to Neo-Catholic writers, he certainly did not seek to abolish the Church but to reform it and establish its true character, which would eventually lead to a universal—that is literally “Catholic”—religion of humanity. However, his attitude towards the status quo of the Church was much more radical in that it was marked by an aggressive anti-clericalism, directed not against the ofce of the priest but against the corrupted holders of this ofce.20This concerns one of  the aspects that can be most confusing for the readers of  Lévi’s works. His occultist narrative is marked by an ambiguousness that often appears incoherent and self-contradictory. He constantly emphasizes the need for the “authority and hierarchy” of the Church while denouncing it as corrupted in the most aggressive terms.21 In a similar vein, he frequently attacked the supposed holders of pristine knowledge—such as the Gnostics, the Templars, or the Freemasons—as corrupted and ignorant, while at the same time depicting them as the heirs of  the one and only secret tradition. Although it can hardly be denied that there are numerous inconsistencies in Lévi’s narrative, especially when one compares the volumes of Dogme et rituel with his later works, it gains a lot of  clarity when one realizes that he understood the succession of  “adepts” as a history of  repeated corruptions. From early on, the wise bearers of  the one true dogma saw the need to conceal it from the “masses,” but at some point they lost the key to its understanding, which required another gen-eration of  initiates to take up the noble task of  handing it down.22Lévi made his  ideas  known to a broader  readership for the rst  time in a series of articles published between 1855 and 1857 in a socialist journal, 19 Strube, Sozialismus, 404–05, 93–501.20  Ibid., 505. Unlike his fellows, Lamennais turned his back on Roman Catholicism after his break with the Holy See and proclaimed a “religion of humanity.” This is a notable contrast to Constant, who never renounced his Catholic identity.21 Lévi, Clef, 40–41: “Aussi regardez les prêtres indignes, contemplez ces prétendus serviteurs de l’autel. Que disent à votre cœur ces hommes gras ou cadavéreux, aux yeux sans regards, aux lèvres pincées ou béantes ? … Ils prient  comme ils dorment et  ils sacrient comme ils mangent. Ce sont des machines à pain, à viande, à vin, et à paroles vides de sens.” Cf. Ibid., 6: “… dans l’Eglise hiérarchique et divinement autorisée, il n’y a jamais eu et il n’y aura jamais ni mauvais papes ni mauvais prêtres. Mauvais et prêtre sont deux mots qui ne s’accordent pas.” Nota bene that Lévi talks about the “true” form of  the Church here.22  This is further complicated by the fact that Lévi had adopted the notion of palingénésie from the writings of Pierre-Simon Ballanche, which implied that the history of  humanity was marked by a succession of  stages where one essentially true and eternal dogma went through a progressive transformation. Strube, Sozialismus, 131, 98, 357, 80, 449, 99, 507; cf. “Socialist Religion,” 367.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7946the Revue philosophique et religieuses—notably using his civil name.23 In “The Kabbalistic Origins of  Christianity” he declared that the Kabbalah (or what he understood under this term) was the core of  true Christianity and thus the carrier of  the “universal tradition” that he opposed to the corrupted doctrine of the established Churches. This separation was initiated by the burning of  the works of  Hermes and Pythagoras by Saint Paul—the moment when “Christianity emancipated  itself ”  by “lighting the  re of the stake of  his mother.” This negation of  the old tradition was necessary to create a new synthesis “in the name of the original and traditional dogma against the despotic and ignorant interpretations of the degenerated priesthood.” With his actions, Paul followed the “pacistic revolutionary” Jesus Christ, a successor of  Osiris, Orpheus, Moses “and all great men of enlightenment.”24 However, this chain of initiates was rst interrupted when a schism took place between Paul and John. Lévi clearly took the side of the latter, who was initiated by Jesus and wrote his Apocalypse in the “hieroglyphic language” handed down to him. The meaning of  this language had been lost by “the ofcial Roman Church,” while the goal of  the “Platonic” and “Kabbalistic” doctrine of John, as of all “true Kabbalists” and “high initiates,” was “the realization of the divine ideal in humanity.”25 At the same time, Paul, a “free-thinker” eagerly seeking the emancipation of Christianity, “re-veiled” the dogma and unintentionally paved the way for “Catholic absolutism.”26 The consequences were disastrous, as the followers of the Church were now misled: “From the burning of books they came to the burning of  their authors.”In the meanwhile, the true Christianity, the Kabbalistic Christianity of  Saint John, has always existed and it has always protested; but it was attacked with the most hateful calumny and confused by the ofcial asceticism, under the name of  Gnosticism, with all the delirium of depraved minds: so the Christians of Saint John concealed themselves and adopted a series of signs taken from the Kabbalah to recognize each other. So began the occult initiations which attracted the whole Order of  the Temple to the light, by revealing to it its veritable destination.2723  The articles were later used in La clef  des grands mystères (1861).24  Alphonse-Louis Constant, “Des origines cabalistiques du christianisme,” in La revue philosophique et religieuse (Paris: Bureaux de la Revue, 1855), 35, 40–41. Here, the concept of Palingenesis is essential for an understanding of the narrative.25  Ibid., 35–39.26  Ibid., 41–42. In French, Lévi made a pun playing with the words révélateur (revelator) and révoilateur (“re-veilator”).27  Ibid., 42.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 47Thus the Templars became the torchbearers of the secret tradition of true Christianity, the “champions of humanity” who strived for the establishment of  the association universelle—a prominent socialist concept that had been essential for Lévi’s radical writings since 1841.28 In another article about “The Classics of  the Kabbalah,” he emphasized that the true meaning of  the Temple was “a social utopia and a symbol for the perfect government, based on an egalitarian hierarchy of intelligence and merit.”29 The adversaries of this revolutionary project were “the so-called orthodox sectarians who obstinately deny progress” and “claim authorities that they do not understand”: “The ecclesiastical hierarchy is only temporary and must end when the time of the virility of  humanity has come, the age of  force and reason” which will bring “the second coming of  Christ,” the explanation of all symbolical gures, and the erection of the Temple.30 Then the universal religion will nally be realized:But this puried religion will not be invented, it exists and it has always existed in humanity; but it had to be concealed by the sages, because the vulgar have been incapable of comprehending it. It is the tradition of  all the great sanctuaries of an-tiquity, it is the philosophy of nature, it is God living in humanity and in the world, it is being demonstrated by being, it is reason proven by harmony, it is the analogy of  the contraries, it is faith based on science and science elevated by faith.31The reformist tenor of  this rhetoric illustrates that Lévi had not at all abandoned his socialist thought. Given the fact that he had been imprisoned for political reasons in 1855 for the third time in his life, and that he had faced the harsh anti-socialist restrictions of  the new government since the Coup of  1851, he exercised much caution in Dogme et rituel and the Histoire de la magie but apparently felt safe enough to employ a more radical language in the socialist Revue.32 Despite the lack of  open calls for the revolutionary establishment of  a socialist utopia, the narrative in the monographs was more or less the same: The “great Kabbalist John” had been initiated into the secret doctrine by his master Jesus and communicated it in his Apocalypse, “the key to Christian 28  Ibid., 42–43. Cf. Strube, “Socialist Religion,” 366–67.29  Alphonse-Louis Constant, “Les classiques de la Kabbale. Second article. Les Talmudistes et le Talmud,” in La revue philosophique et religieuse (Paris: Bureaux de la Revue, 1856), 393. This is a typical Saint-Simonian notion.30  “Origines,” 43–44; “Classiques,” 393.31  “Origines,” 45.32  After a general amnesty, Lévi resumed to frank radicalism, beginning in La clef  des grands mystères (1861). See Strube, “Socialist Religion,” 378–79; cf. Sozialismus, 565–77.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7948Kabbalah.”33 Lévi put an even stronger emphasis on the Kabbalah as the essence of the primitive revelation. He also elaborated his narrative about the consequences of the “emancipation” of  Christianity and the founding of  an ésotérisme chrétien:34 “The ones to be initiated did not nd initiators anymore, and in the long run the directors of  consciences became as ignorant as the vulgar…: the path to light was lost.”35 As a consequence, the “profane” could “erect altar against altar” and cause countless schisms.36 Within the Church, the last remnants of  the Kabbalistic traditions were lost until the ninth century.37Against  this  background,  it  is highly signicant that Lévi presented the Templars as the advocates of johannisme.38 But he was far from hailing them as the infallible guardians of true Christianity. He maintained that “the johannisme of  the adepts was the Kabbalah of  the Gnostics, which soon degenerated into a mystical pantheism amounting to the idolatry of  nature and the hatred of  all revealed dogma.” Having lost the true meaning of  the dogma and deceived by hubris, some of them even came to acknowledge “the pantheistic symbolism” of  black magic and worshiped the “monstrous idol of Baphomet.”39 Once more, the chain of initiates had been interrupted because of  human error, but Lévi suggested that their teachings lived on in the maçonnerie occulte, while the Templars themselves, or their remnants, turned into “anarchistic” assassins.40 The central idea behind this complex and ambivalent tangle of groups, currents, and individuals is relatively simple: by declaring that literally everybody had, at some point, lost the key to an understanding of the true tradition, Lévi could position himself  as the one who had rediscovered it. He was the one who could sort out all the “truths and errors” that had resulted from the upheavals in late antiquity.41FreemasonryIn order to  understand the construction of Lévi’s tradition,  it must rst be 33 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 1, 145, 98, cf. Ibid., 2: 67; Histoire, 105.34 Histoire, 212, 126–27.35 Dogme et rituel, 1, 114; cf. Histoire, 5.36 Histoire, 152.37  Ibid., 222. Earlier, Lévi stressed that the “war against magic” had been necessary to battle “the false Gnostics”—keeping in mind that “the true science of  the mages is essentially Catholic” (ibid., 33).38  Ibid., 277, with the following differentiation: “Les templiers avaient deux doctrines, une cachée et réservée aux maîtres, c’était celle du johannisme; l’autre publique, c’était la doctrine catholique-romaine.”39  Ibid., 278.40  Ibid., 280; cf. Clef, 219–20.41 Histoire, 207.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 49investigated which sources he used. To begin with, any contemporary learning about the Knights Templar inevitably would have consulted literature about Freemasonry. The controversial rise and great success of  neo-Templarism in the eighteenth century sparked a myriad of  writings discussing the relationship between Freemasonry and the historical Templars, often in a highly polemical way.42 The literature about Freemasons, Templars, conspiracy theories, and related topics is so vast in the rst half  of the nineteenth century that, again, it would be futile to determine a xed set of sources. However, the grouping of  certain names and the presentation of  certain genealogies clearly show that Lévi relied on recent debates about the (Neo-)Templars and their historical origins. In 1818, the Austrian Orientalist Joseph von Hammer-Purgstall (1774–1856) had published a Latin piece in the Mines de l’Orient, called “Mysterium Baphometis revelatum, seu fratres militiae templi, qua Gnostici et quidem Ophiani apostasiae, idoloduliae et impuritatis convicti per ipsa eorum monumenta.” Therein he maintained that the Templars were Gnostics and that they worshipped the Gnostic idol of the Baphomet, thus following a doctrine that he also related to the “Cabala.”43 The study received some attention in France, where it was reviewed in the Annales de philosophie chrétienne in 1832,44 a journal with Neo-Catholic background.45 Hammer-Purgstall’s accusation that 42  The most extensive study of this is still René Le Forestier, La franc-maçonnerie templière et occultiste aux XVIIIe et XIXe siècles (Paris/Louvain: Aubier-Montaigne/Editions Nauwelaerts, 1970); cf. Pierre Mollier, “Freemasonry and Templarism,” in Handbook of  Freemasonry, ed. Henrik Bogdan and Jan A. M. Snoek (London/Boston: Brill, 2014). For a discussion of the contexts that are most relevant for the present argument, see Julian Strube, “Revolution, Illuminismus und Theosophie. Eine Genealogie der ‘häretischen’ Historiographie des frühen französischen Sozialismus und Kommunismus,” Historische Zeitschrift (forthcoming).43  Joseph von Hammer-Purgstall, “Mysterium baphometis revelatum, seu fratres militiae templi, qua Gnostici et quidem Ophiani apostasiae, idoloduliae et impuritatis convicti per ipsa eorum monumenta,” in Mines de l‘Orient (Vienna: Antoine Schmid, 1818), 2. He was convinced that the name Baphomet came from βαφη μητεος, which he translated as “tinctura (seu baptis-ma) Metis,” i.e. “Baptism of Knowledge.” Referring to inscriptions that served as his archaeo-logical evidence, he concluded: “Huic baptismati spirituali et tincturae igneae inserviebant crateres ad pedes idolorum nostrorum exsculpti, et igne repleti, ita ut palam at, quomodo ritus ille mysticus administraretur.” See ibid., 16–17. It should be noted that βαφη (washing) was not the term usually applied to denote baptism. However, it was used in alchemical contexts, where the meaning was often symbolically conated with the act of baptizing. This is why, quite cor-rectly, Hammer-Purgstall chose the translation tinctura. Many thanks for this information are due to Dylan Burns.44 Annales de philosophie chrétienne, 2nd ed., vol. 4, (Paris: Au Bureau des Annales de la Philosophie Chrétienne, 1835), 317–319.45  Lévi certainly knew the journal and referred to it in Constant, Dictionnaire, 899. References
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7950the historical Knights Templar were worshipping a pagan “idol” in the form of  a head had been described by various sources throughout the centuries, but the explosive nature of the notion of the Baphomet can only be understood in light of  the more recent quarrels about Neo-Templarism.The old accusations gained fresh interest when Masonic Neo-Templarism was established in the eighteenth century and, due to its outstanding success, caused much controversy. The Masonic Templar legend was most famously outlined in a writing published in Strasbourg in 1760, which claimed that the prosecuted Templars had ed to Scotland and founded the “Scottish Rite.”46 This legend was taken up by Karl Gotthelf  von Hund (1722–1776) for his Rectied Scottish Rite and, after 1764, his Rite of Strict Observance.47 In what followed, multiple Masonic systems focusing on the Templar legend emerged, especially in Germany, including Johann August von Starck’s (1741–1816) Templar Clerics who like other Neo-Templars claimed to represent a chain of  initiates that reached back to late antiquity.48 In France, this genealogy was controversially discussed in the 1770s, most notably by the Martinist Ordre des Elus Coëns whose lodge in Lyon, under Jean-Baptiste Willermoz (1730–1824), joined the Strict Observance. However, Willermoz soon turned his back to the Strict Observance and prepared, during the “Convent des Gaules” in 1778, the foundation of his Régime  Ecossais Rectié.49 One of the outcomes of those efforts was the foundation of the Chevaliers Bienfaisants de la Cité Sainte, which soon became a major voice in Masonic circles.50 The Templar legend would be an ongoing subject of  Masonic quarrels in the early 1780s.51 Apart from these disputes, the “mystically” oriented lodges clashed with their skeptical counterparts at the important Convent of  Wilhelmsbad in 1782. The success of the “mystics” spawned a whole genre of  literature denouncing the historical accuracy of  the Templar legend and attacking the Neo-Templars in to Hammer-Purgstall were so widespread that he most likely encountered them elsewhere.46  Le Forestier, Franc-maçonnerie, 68–70, cf. Gustav Adolf Schiffmann, Die Entstehung der Rittergrade in der Freimaureri um die Mitte des 18. Jahrhunderts (Leipzig: Bruno Zechel, 1882), 178–90 and Pierre Mollier, La chevalerie maçonnique. Franc-maçonnerie, imaginaire chevaleresque et légende templière au siècle des Lumières (Paris: Editions Dervy, 2005), 59–120.47  Le Forestier, Franc-maçonnerie, 103–221.48  Ibid., 152–97.49  Ibid., 476–97; Alice Joly, Un mystique lyonnais et les secrets de la Franc-Maçonnerie, 1730–1824 (Mâcon: Protat Frères, 1938), 105–20.50  Le Forestier, Franc-maçonnerie, 498–531. The Chevaliers joined the Grand Orient de France but maintained an afliation with the Strict Observance, which was now led by Ferdinand von Braunschweig (1721–1792) and Karl von Hessen (1744–1836).51 Mollier, Chevalerie, 126.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 51the name of  rationality and Enlightenment.52 One of the most vocal critics was the publisher and writer Friedrich Nicolai (1733–1811), who questioned the authenticity of the Templar legend and the role of the historical Knights Templar.53 In his Versuch über die Beschuldigungen welche dem Tempelherrenorden gemacht worden, und über dessen Geheimniß of  1782, which was used by Hammer-Purgstall as a reference,54 Nicolai argued against  the  identication  of   the mysterious baffometus or Baphomet and “Mahomet,” which implied that the Knights Templar had secretly been converted to Islam and were worshipping a kind of  “Muslim idol.”55 Instead, he was convinced of the “Gnostic” beliefs of  the Knights Templar.56 Speaking of a “kabbalistisch-gnostische Philosophie,” he explained that Gnosticism had emerged from Kabbalah and represented an erroneous heretical strand that was taken up by the Templars.57 In France, these polemics were adopted in several conspiracy theories, most prominently by the anti-Masonic Jesuit Augustin Barruel (1741–1820) in his Mémoires pour servir a l’histoire du jacobinisme, from 1797. Barruel maintained that the French Revolution had been the outcome of a Masonic complot, whose ideology he traced back to the “Kabbalistic Freemasons,” the Templars, the Cathars, the Gnostics, and eventually the Manicheans.58This is only a glimpse into a highly diverse and complex genre of literature, which serves to illustrate how certain historical narratives and chains of equivalences sedimented at the end of the eighteenth century. In early nineteenth-century France, they stimulated a wave of  Masonic literature that tried to discuss the history of  Freemasonry in a positive, self-referential light. These works include Marcello Reghellini’s La Maçonnerie considérée comme 52  Ludwig Hammermayer, Der Wilhelmsbader Freimaurer-Konvent von 1782. Ein Höhe- und Wendepunkt in der Geschichte der deutschen und europäischen Geheimgesellschaften (Heidelberg: Lambert Schneider, 1980), esp. 37–43; Le Forestier, Franc-maçonnerie, 533–706; Joly, Mystique, 147–214.53  Ludwig Hammermayer, “Illuminaten in Bayern. Zur Geschichte, Fortwirken und Legende des Geheimbundes. Entstehung, System, Wirkung (1776/1785/87),“ in Der Illuminatenorden (1776–1785/87), ed. Helmut Reinalter (Frankfurt am Main et al.: Peter Lang, 1997), 24–28. This resulted in a controversy with Herder which unfolded between March and June 1782 in the Teutschen Merkur.54  Hammer-Purgstall, “Mysterium,” 16.55  Friedrich Nicolai, Versuch über die Beschuldigungen welche dem Tempelherrenorden gemacht worden, und über dessen Geheimniß (Berlin/Stettin 1782), esp. 57–90.56  Ibid., esp. 89–90: “… daß Übereinstimmung der gnostischen Gebräuche mit den Geb-räuchen der Tempelherren unwidersprechlich ist …”57  Ibid., 91, cf. 117–125.58  Augustin Barruel, Mémoires pour servir a l’histoire du jacobinisme, 4 vols., vol. 2 (London et al.: L’Imprimerie Françoise et al., 1797), 396–419.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7952le résultat des religions égyptienne, juive et chrétienne from 1828, where one can read that “the Baphomet of  the Gnostics became the one of  the Templars.”59 Or François-Timoléon Bègue Clavel’s Histoire pittoresque de la franc-maçonnerie et des sociétés secrètes anciennes et moderne from 1843, which referred to Hammer-Purgstall’s discussion of the Baphomet.60With the exception of Barruel’s,61 none of  these works were explicitly cited by Lévi, but it can be assumed that he was familiar with them either directly or indirectly. There is hard evidence for his fascination with the topic in a review of Ragon’s Orthodoxie maçonnique, suivie de la maçonnerie occulte et de l’initiation hermétique (1853), which he wrote for the Revue progressive in 1853. Jean-Marie Ragon  de  Bettignies (1781–1862) was a  highly inuential Freemason with revolutionary and reformist tendencies.62 It will be recalled that Lévi had referred to the maçonnerie occulte as the heiress of  the Templar doctrine, and it is highly remarkable that Ragon employed the term occultisme in his work, a year before Lévi was writing his Dogme—identifying no one else but Charles Fourier, one of  the “fathers” of  socialism whose ideas exerted a decisive inuence on Lévi in the 1840s, as a representative of  occultisme.63 It is quite possible that Lévi became aware of the Baphomet from reading Ragon’s Orthodoxie maçonnique, although his review contains harsh criticism that reveals 59  Marcello Reghellini, La Maçonnerie considérée comme le résultat des religions égyptienne, juive et chrétienne, 4 vols., vol. 1 (Bruxelles: H. Tarlier, 1829), 289–90, cf. 444–46.60  François-Timoléon Bègue Clavel, Histoire pittoresque de la franc-maçonnerie et des sociétés secrètes anciennes et modernes, 2nd ed. (Paris: Pagnerre, 1843), 355.61  Alphonse-Louis Constant, “Orthodoxie maçonnique, suivie de la maçonnerie occulte et de l’initiation hermétique, par J.-M. Ragon,” in Revue progressive (Paris/London/Brüssel: Au Bureau de la Revue/Barthés et Lowell/M. Périchon, 1853), 131.62  A comprehensive study of this remarkable personality remains to be written. See, however, Claude Rétat, “Jean-Marie Ragon. Ou: Qu’est-ce qu’un Maçon Instruit?,” Renaissance Traditionnelle 143/144 (2005); André Combes, Histoire de la franc-maçonnerie au XIXe siècle, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Monaco: Editions du Rocher, 1998), 121–22; Jean-Pierre Laurant, L’ésotérisme chrétien en France au XIXe siècle (Lausanne: L’Age d’Homme, 1992), 101; Le Forestier, Franc-maçonnerie, 964–65 and Strube, Sozialismus, esp. 445–46. Ragon’s “Trinosophes” became a gathering point for Freemasons who adhered to the ideals of  the French Revolution, including Nicolas Desétanges, who had participated in the Storming of  the Bastille, and Jean-Baptiste Chemin-Dupontès, the old “pope” of  Théophilanthropie. For a while, Ragon was a member of Fabré-Palaprat‘s Ordre du Temple and “Vicaire primatial” of the Eglise catholique française of  the Abbé Châtel.63  Jean-Marie Ragon, Maçonnerie occulte suivie de l’initiation hermétique (Paris: Dentu, 1853), 170. In the  second half of   the 1840s,  Lévi openly identied  as a  Fourierist, wrote for  the leading Fourierist newspaper, La démocratie pacique, and published his book in the Librairie phalanstérienne, the main Fourierist publisher.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 53that he had already developed some opinions of his own.64 It is no surprise that Lévi criticized Ragon’s anti-Christian attitude and his “materialism,” but at the same time he lauded the Orthodoxie maçonnique as a “great project” that attempted to give Freemasonry a coherent dogma in the form of  an “occult philosophy.” However, Lévi regarded the “protestant” Freemasons with outspoken suspicion and even disdain. He rejected their “puerile rites” and declared that the “establishment of a new world” would not be achieved “by simple workers, and certainly not by masons”—a strikingly condescending remark.65 It is curious that Lévi expressed disappointment that he was not able to learn more from Ragon about “the ancient initiations and the gatherings of  the middle ages,” as well as about “the traditional goat of the Sabbath, the Bophomet [sic] of  the Templars” and the “philosophical and divine meaning of  these monstrous allegories.”66 This criticism was not entirely fair, as Ragon did, as a matter of fact, identify the “matter of  the alchemists” with, among others, the Goat of Mendes, Pan, Kabbalistic doctrines, and—perhaps most notably—with “magnétisme spécique.”67 This equation is practically identical to Lévi’s description of the Baphomet, and it is very likely that this is no coincidence. That being said, it must be noted that Ragon was himself only reproducing tropes that were omnipresent in Masonic and anti-Masonic writings, as well as the vast literature they had inspired since the second half of  the eighteenth century.Works about the occult sciences and magicLévi frequently referred to contemporary compendia of  the fashionable sciences occultes, a catch-all phrase for topics such as magic, alchemy, astrology, and so on.68 Interestingly, Lévi’s initial remarks about the sciences occultes were highly po-lemical. In 1853, he published a scathing article about “Les prétendues sciences occultes, ou la folie articielle et les manœuvres qui la produisent” in the Revue 64  Constant, “Orthodoxie,” 132–34. Lévi mentioned some works and names that indicate his reading at the time. He also criticized Ragon, rather vaguely, for knowing nothing about the Tarot. For a more detailed analysis, see Strube, Sozialismus, 445–50.65  Constant, “Orthodoxie,” 137. For Lévi’s later relationship with Freemasonry, see Strube, Sozialismus, 581–82, cf. 482–88.66  Constant, “Orthodoxie,” 134–35.67 Ragon, Maçonnerie, 220, 154–55, 95. In another text from 1841, Ragon had written: “Le maillet est aussi devenu la croix tronquée gnostique ou baphométique.” See Cours philosophique et interprétatif  des initiations anciennes et modernes (Paris: Berlandier, 1841), 175.68  Wouter J. Hanegraaff, Esotericism and the Academy. Rejected Knowledge in Western Culture (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 230–39.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7954progressive. Therein he decried them as “intellectual aristocracy, without hierar-chy and reason,” as “charlatanism,” and as “scientic atheism.”69 However, it becomes clear that he directed his rant against the vogue of  the tables tournantes, which he strongly opposed, as well as against the “street sibyls,” implying that he believed he had discovered a superior form of magical knowledge that was contained in the Tarot.70 This suggests that Lévi had started to learn about magic and the Tarot at that time, a process that cannot be investigated in more detail at this point.71 But the sources to which he referred enable us to learn more about his development of the Baphomet motif.His rst discussion of  the  sciences occultes can be found in the somewhat puzzling Dictionnaire de littérature chrétienne from 1851, where he made extensive use of  Ferdinand Denis’ Tableau historique, analytique et critique des sciences occultes (1830).72 From this popular work he could learn that the Templars, inuenced by Gnostic ideas, were practicing the sciences occultes and handed down the doctrines related to them.73 In a similar work, Jacques-Albin-Simon Collin de Plancy’s Dictionnaire infernal (1844), which was reprinted as Dictionnaire des sciences occultes (1846) in the same series that contained Lévi’s Dictionnaire, the entry “Goat” (bouc) discusses its identication in Egypt with Pan, as well as with Azazel and the Sabbatical Goat.74 Another “classic” that Lévi worked with was Jules Garinet’s Histoire de la magie en France (1818), which contains a passage about the trial of the Templars.75 It appears that Lévi used those compendia from 1851 onwards to gather knowledge about these topics, which would surface in his articles for the Revue philosophique et religieuses and eventually in his monographs about magic.GnosticismIt has become clear by now that the Templars were commonly regarded as the successors of the ancient Gnostics. In this light, Lévi’s genealogy of  “esoteric 69  Alphonse-Louis Constant, “Les prétendues sciences occultes, ou la folie articielle et les manœuvres qui la produisent,” in Revue progressive (Paris/London/Brüssel: Au Bureau de la Revue/Barthés et Lowell/M. Périchon, 1853), 235–37.70  Ibid., 240–42.71  See Strube, Sozialismus.72  For a detailed analysis, see ibid., 394–416.73  Ferdinand Denis, Tableau historique, analytique et critique des sciences occultes (Paris: Bureau de l’Encyclopédie portative/Bachelier, 1830), 11, 181–82.74  Jacques Albin Simon Collin de Plancy, Dictionnaire infernal, 3rd ed. (Paris/Lyon: Paul Mellier/Guyot, 1844), 97–98. Lévi refers to this work in Dogme et rituel, 2, 232.75  Jules Garinet, Histoire de la magie en France (Paris: Foulon et Compagnie, 1818), 77–80. This work is also a source for later occultists, e.g. Guaïta, Clef, 282–85.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 55Christianity” appears a lot less inventive than it might have at the beginning of this section. An initial occupation with the history of  the Gnostics is tangible in the Dictionnaire of  1851, where Lévi discussed the environment of  the late antique School of Alexandria. He maintained that the early Christians had been forced by their pagan adversaries to adopt “a kind of Christian esoter-icism” (ésotérisme chrétien). At this point, he already laid a strong emphasis on the Apocalypse of John, to which he referred as “the book of  initiation of  the true Gnostics.”76 In his later monographs, he reiterated his conviction that the Gnostics had been “Christian Kabbalists” following John, but he explained that early on a current of  “false Gnostics” emerged, which was responsible for the loss of  the Kabbalistic keys.77 This corrupted Gnosticism resulted, like Arianism and Manicheism, from a “misunderstood Kabbalah” and was based on “materialistic and pantheistic” errors.78 It is signicant that Lévi referred to the Dictionnaire des sciences philosophiques (1847) by the respected scholar Adolphe Franck (1810–1893) for his identication of Gnosticism and Kabbalah.79 The respective entry “Kabbale” was Lévi’s rst  evident source for the topic  of  Kabbalah.80 This is especially interesting because Franck emphasized the trans-lation of  Kabbale as tradition—a tradition that included Gnosticism, the School of  Alexandria, “Indian mysticism,” and the theosophy of Jakob Böhme.Yet, more importantly, Lévi’s Dictionnaire referred to the authority on the history of  Gnosticism, Jacques Matter (1791–1864).81 It is well-known that Matter appears to have been the rst author to have used the word ésotérisme in the French language,82 and indeed Lévi employed it in the context of his work. The Alsatian scholar had published a widely acknowledged Essai historique sur l’école d’Alexandrie in 1820, which was succeeded in 1828 by a Histoire critique du gnosticisme. In the second volume of this work, Matter used the term ésotérisme to characterize the doctrines of the Pythagoreans and the Gnostics.83 In 1840, 76 Constant, Dictionnaire, 83, cf. 635.77 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 1, 148; Histoire, 217.78 Histoire, 222; cf. 68–70, where the errors of the Gnostics are attributed to the inuence of “the false Kabbalah of  India.”79 Constant, Dictionnaire, 126.80  Adolphe Franck, Dictionnaire des sciences philosophiques, vol. 3 (Paris: L. Hachette, 1847), 382–92. Lévi referred to a passage on p. 384. Cf. Wouter J. Hanegraaff, “The Beginnings of Occultist Kabbalah. Adolphe Franck and Eliphas Lévi,” in Kabbalah and Modernity. Interpretations, Transformations, Adaptations, ed. Boaz Huss, Marco Pasi, and Kocku von Stuckrad (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 118: Hanegraaff  suspected that Lévi might have been familiar with Franck’s scholarship.81 Constant, Dictionnaire, 878–95.82 Laurant, Esotérisme, 7–13.83  Jacques Matter, Histoire critique du gnosticisme et de son inuence sur les sectes religieuses  et
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7956a revised and considerably expanded version of the Essai appeared as Histoire de l’école d’Alexandrie. It contains the thesis that the merging of Christian and pagan doctrines lay at the root of  the new Gnostic school, which propagated an emanationist doctrine of  creation in the Jewish-Platonic tradition of Philo that was opposed to the Christian creatio ex nihilo—two rival traditions whose struggle has continued well into the present day.84 Matter was deeply fascinated by this “mystical” religious tradition. He had evident contacts to the High Degree Masonry in Strasbourg and sustained contacts with leading Martinists.85 He was married to the daughter of  Friedrich Rudolf Salzmann (1749–1821, also Saltzmann), a friend of  Willermoz and Louis-Claude de Saint-Martin.86 Over the years, he published several works about Saint-Martin, Swedenborg and the history of  mysticism. This shows that his interest in the School of  Alexandria was not motivated by mere scholarly curiosity but a determination to unveil the history of an authentic religious tradition that would provide the path to the nal religion of  the future.87 This idea mirrored contemporary discourses about the nature of  a “true” religion, which would resurface in the writings of  Eliphas Lévi.Matter often emphasized the “analogy between the Kabbalah and Gnosticism.” Remarkably, he also did so with regard to the emblems, diagrams and gures of  the Kabbalistic and Gnostic traditions, for which he provided a separate volume of plates.88 He based these analogies especially on the Kabbala Denudata, the Sefer Jezirah, and the Zohar—which would soon function as main sources for Lévi.89 In his Histoire critique du gnosticisme he also expounded philosophiques des six premiers siècles de l’ère chrétienne, 2 vols., vol. 2 (Paris: F.-G. Levrault, 1828), 83, 489. He maintained that the early Christians had been opposed to the pagan differentiation between an ésotérique and an exotérique religion, see ibid., 1: 13–14.84 Histoire, 1, preface and introduction, esp. 29–32, 291–94, 305–11, 52–53. For more details, see Strube, Sozialismus, 118–21, 398–400 and “Socialism and Esotericism in July Monarchy France,” History of  Religions (forthcoming).85 Joly, Mystique, 105. Saint-Martin introduced him to the works of Böhme: see Antoine Faivre, Access to Western Esotericism (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), 73. It has been argued that his understanding of  emanation was based on Martines des Pasqually: Hanegraaff, Esotericism, 335–36.86 Laurant, Esotérisme, 42; cf. Le Forestier, Franc-maçonnerie, 419f., 516–19, 94f., 651–56, 803–10, 909–12 and Jules Keller, Le théosophe alsacien Frédéric-Rodolphe Saltzmann et les milieux spirituels de son temps. Contribution  à l’étude de l’illuminisme et  du mysticisme à la n du XVIIIe  et au début du XIXe siècle, 2 vols., Europäische Hochschulschriften (Bern et al.: Peter Lang, 1985).87 Strube, Sozialismus, 120–21.88  Jacques Matter, Histoire critique du gnosticisme: Planches (Paris: F.-G. Levrault, 1828), 7.89 Histoire, 1, 104. In the same footnote, those traditions are also linked to India, because “Tout est lié dans l’antique Asie…”
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 57analogies between the god of Mendes, its emblem of a goat, and the god Pan.90 It is tantalizing to imagine Lévi scanning through the volume of plates provided by Matter and comparing “Gnostic” and “Kabbalistic” iconographies. What is for sure is that he was familiar with contemporary debates about the origins of  Christianity and a supposed schism between an “esoteric,” “Gnostic” Christian current and the established doctrine of  the Church.SocialismThe political character of  Lévi’s genealogy has already been discussed at the outset. It should be recalled that Lévi did not only have a radical socialist past, but that his ideas from the 1840s formed the basis for the development of  his “occultism” from the 1850s forward. From today’s perspective, it might appear strange that Lévi’s socialist background should be essential for his occultist narrative, but a brief look at the historiographies of  July Monarchy socialism will support this point. Literally every French study of socialism that appeared between the 1830s and early 1850s depicted the socialists as the heirs of  a heretical tradition that included the theosophists of  the eighteenth century, medieval groups such as the Templars and the Cathars, and eventually the very same protagonists of  the School of  Alexandria, most notably the Gnostics, that were discussed above. These studies included Louis Reybaud’s pioneering Etudes sur les réformateurs contemporains ou socialistes modernes (1840),91 Alfred Sudre’s Histoire du communisme ou Réfutation historique des utopies socialistes (1848), Adolphe Franck’s Le communisme jugé par l’histoire (1848), and Jean Joseph Thonissen’s Le socialisme depuis l’antiquité jusqu’à la constitution française du 14 janvier 1852 (1852). Unfortunately, the scope of this paper does not allow for a discussion of  the reasons for these depictions.92 But it must be noted that these studies, as well as the (self-)perceptions of socialists, were inherently intertwined with the questions of  the authenticity of  “true” religion and the origins of  Christianity. In those debates, the School of Alexandria came to be a focal point, to the degree that Thonissen’s study, for example, almost identically copied the “ésotérique vs. exotérique” passage from Matter’s Histoire critique du gnosticisme in order to dene the origins of socialism.93 This conation 90  Ibid., 2: 12.91  Esp. Louis Reybaud, Etudes sur les réformateurs contemporains ou socialistes modernes (Paris: Guillaumin et Compagnie, 1840), 132–33; cf. “Des idées et des sectes communistes,” in Revue des deux mondes (Paris: Au Bureau de la Revue des deux mondes, 1842), esp. 12–18.92  See Strube, “Socialism and Esotericism,” and Sozialismus, 97–147.93  Compare Jean Joseph Thonissen, Le socialisme depuis l’antiquité jusqu’à la constitution française du 14 janvier 1852, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Louvain/Paris: Vanlinthout et Compagnie/Sagnier et Bray, 1852), 151, and Matter, Histoire, 1, 13–14.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7958of  revolutionary currents, socialism, Gnosticism, Kabbalah, magic, the sciences occultes, and related topoi reaches back to the genre of  eighteenth-century historiographies by authors such as Barruel and Nicolai.94As he was deeply involved in socialist as well as in Romantic circles, where such narratives were picked up with great enthusiasm, Lévi was certainly famil-iar with these historiographies. While some of the sources discussed previously are more relevant for an understanding of the general context of  certain motifs regarding the Templars, the Baphomet, and their supposed Gnostic origins, these narratives about the history of socialism can be situated in Lévi’s immediate proximity. This becomes particularly evident from the fact that his best friend and closest political comrade, Alphonse Esquiros (1812–1876), published one of  the most fascinating versions of  a “heretical historiography” of  socialism, the Histoire des Montagnards from 1847.95  At this time, Constant and Esquiros lived through their most radical phases. They founded, in the revolutionary year of  1848, one of  the most notorious revolutionary clubs, the Club de la Montagne.96 Adhering “au socialisme le plus radical,” as they proudly proclaimed,97 they represented the Montagnard faction, which received their name from their upper ranks in the National Assembly and would today be referred to as the Extreme Left. Thus, when Esquiros wrote his Histoire, he attempted to establish the genealogy of  his own ideology and that of  his political comrades. According to Esquiros, the superior “science” that was at the root of  political radicalism originated with Jesus Christ (the rst revolu-tionary) and was handed down in the form of  the sciences occultes: “astrology, alchemy, magic,” which “concealed the opposition of the human spirit during the centuries of darkness: especially the religious opposition, followed by the opposition against monarchy.”98 The book of the Kabbalists, Esquiros went on, had to be written in an encrypted language to avoid prosecution by the authorities. Although the medieval magicians were not usually reformers in the modern sense, they were dissidents whose practices betrayed a hatred of the established powers.99 The French Revolution was an “explosion” of those 94  Strube, “Revolution, Illuminismus und Theosophie.”95 Sozialismus, 408–11. For more details about Esquiros, see Jacques P. van den Linden, Alphonse Esquiros. De la bohème romantique à la république sociale (Heerlen/Paris: Winants/Nizet, 1948) and Anthony Zielonka, Alphonse Esquiros (1812–1876): A Study of  his Works (Paris/Genève: Champion/Slatkine, 1985).96 Strube, Sozialismus, 370–75.97 Le Tribun du Peuple, no. 3, March 23, 1848.98  Alphonse Esquiros, Histoire des Montagnards (Paris: Victor Lecou, 1847), 26–27.99  Ibid., 28–29.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 59tendencies, which had passed on from the Kabbalah to the Freemasons, and from there to the revolutionary clubs.100 This fascinating genealogy is the one which was closest to Lévi, but it was just one among a number of others.These genealogies could also be found in the Socialist-Romantic litera-ture that Lévi had been highly enthusiastic about since the late 1830s, most prominently George Sand’s Spiridion (1839), whose reading he described in 1841 as a life-altering experience.101 It is no wonder then, that his notorious Bible de la liberté from 1841, which earned him a prison sentence and a hefty ne, did reect “traditionalist” ideas that are almost identical to his later oc-cultist narrative. For example, he described a tradition reaching from Moses, Enoch, Hermes, Orpheus, Socrates, Pythagoras, and Plato, among others, to Jesus Christ and nally to the revolutionary heretics who succeeded him.102 He expounded the thesis of a primitive and universal revelation that proved the identity of the Abrahamic, Greco-Roman, and Indian religions, which would soon be joined in universal unity.103 In his Doctrines religieuses et sociales from 1841, he stressed that the Bible was written in “gures,” “symbols,” and “images.” It could only be decrypted with the key of  the Apocalypse of  John, which contained the “eternal revelation” and “the gospel in all its purity.”104 Written at a time when Christianity had been outlawed, it could only be understood by élus, chosen ones.105 Using a socialist, Saint-Simonian terminology, Lévi maintained that hommes d’élite—inspired or holy men; prophets—had commu-nicated divine truths to generations of  seekers who wrote them down in books “which are venerated by the vulgar without comprehending them,” especially 100  Ibid., 37–39. It may be noted that a later edition of  the Histoire, from 1875, did not contain any relativizing and critical remarks about magicians, Freemasons, etc., but depicted them in a very enthusiastic light. Also, the Kabbalah receives signicantly more attention. At one point, it is even referred to as a “Counter-Church”: “Elle [la science] se t société secrète et prit le nom de cabale. La cabale était une contre-Eglise” (Histoire des Montagnards, Œuvres d’Alphonse Esquiros (Paris: Librairie de la Renaissance, 1875), 18).101  Alphonse-Louis Constant, L’Assomption de la femme ou Le livre de l’amour (Paris: La Gallois, 1841), XIX. In this passage, Lévi also referred to his reading of  “the ancient Gnostics.” For Lévi’s reception of  the Spiridion and its content, see Strube, Sozialismus, 223–27. For a similar account by Gérard de Nerval, a fellow romantique from Lévi’s milieu, see ibid., 411–14.102  Alphonse-Louis Constant, La Bible de la Liberté (Paris: Le Gallois, 1841), 88.103  Ibid., 93. The passage contains several names that would be central to the later occultist writings, such as the Indian “Trimourti.”104 Doctrines religieuses et sociales (Paris: Le Gallois, 1841), 65–66.105  Ibid., 60. In contemporary times it was particularly the poet who could decipher it, as Jesus had been a poet himself, and the Apocalypse a poem: ibid., 66; cf. Bible, 77–81.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7960the Apocalypse of John.106 This demonstrates that Lévi had articulated his idea of  a tradition of  true divine knowledge that was only understandable for “initiates” as early as his very rst radical writings. After  further developing this idea during the 1840s, most notably in his Livre des larmes of  1845 and his Testament de la liberté of 1848, it was only a relatively small step to the occultist narrative outlined in the beginning of this section.In contrast to his friends, in the 1840s Lévi’s writings do not reveal any concern for the occult sciences, magic, or Kabbalah. Lévi only took active interest in those matters after 1848. However, his radical socialist writings do contain a number of ideas that would later resurface in his occultist oeuvre, most specically in the concept of the Baphomet. Perhaps most fundamental among these were his concept of “universal harmony”—a socialist association universelle—and the notion of  a science universelle that he believed to have found in the teachings of Lamennais, Swedenborg, and Fourier.107 This science universelle precongured much of   his later concept of  “magic.” His  Fourierist under-standing of  “harmony” and the equilibrium necessary to establish it would be of  central importance to his Baphomet. The language of harmony, analogies, and correspondences was commonplace not only in Fourierist parlance, but also in the socialism-infused Romanticism of Lévi’s fellow petits romantiques.108Other topics essential  to  the radical socialist writings  were the gure of  Lucifer and the notion of  the redemption of  Satan, which were widely popular in Romantic circles during the 1830s and 1840s.109 Artists such as Balzac, Hugo, Lamartine, Michelet, Alexandre Soumet, and George Sand wrote about Lucifer and Satan as revolutionary and tragic gures, symbolizing the human quest for freedom and redemption.110 Lévi was personally acquainted with some of these 106 Doctrines, 10–11. See also La mère de Dieu. Epopée religieuse et humanitaire (Paris: Charles Gosselin, 1844), esp. 190–91 and Le Livre des Larmes ou Le Christ Consolateur. Essai de conciliation entre l’Église catholique et la philosophie moderne (Paris: Paulier, 1845), 193–94: “Dès mon adolescence je lisais l’Apocalypse avec une avidité presque fébrile.”107 Strube, Sozialismus, 316–51.108  Lévi’s role as a petit romantique was especially highlighted by Frank Paul Bowman, Eliphas Lévi, visionnaire romantique (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1969), 5–60.109  Per Faxneld, Satanic Feminism: Lucifer as the Liberator of  Woman in Nineteenth-Century Culture (Stockholm: Molin & Sorgenfrei, 2014), 113–60; Luijk, “Satan,” 83–173.110  Max Milner, Le diable dans la littérature française, de Cozotte à Baudelaire, 1772–1861, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Paris: J. Corti, 1960), 164–72, 516–622; ibid., 2: 117–56, 358–422; Léon Cellier, L’épopée romantique (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1954), 221–45; Ursula Müller, “Die Gestalt Lucifers in der Dichtung vom Barock bis zur Romantik” (Dissertation, Universität Gießen, 1940), 53–69; Frank Paul Bowman, Le Christ des barricades (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1987), 266; Faxneld, Satanic Feminism, 137–38; Luijk, “Satan,” 140–42.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 61authors, including other romantiques such as Théophile Gautier and Gérard de Nerval, who were friends and collaborators of Esquiros.111 It does not come as a surprise, then, that he was highly enthusiastic about their works and deeply inuenced by them.112 In his Bible de la liberté, he described Lucifer as the “angel of  liberty” who stood for the emancipation of  human “intelligence.” Only “centuries of ignorance” had falsely turned him into the “prince of  demons.” Far from being an evil entity, he would eventually be rehabilitated and unied with God through his revolutionary striving for freedom and science.113 This understanding of Lucifer appears almost identically in Lévi’s occultist writ-ings, where he quoted extensively from his publications from the 1840s, most notably the Bible and the Testament. As will be seen in section 4, this was not only decisive for the creation of his Baphomet, but it would also be central to his polemics against Catholic writers.It will be recalled that Lévi’s attitude towards “pantheism” was very negative. His  description  of   the Baphomet as a “pantheistic  gure”  and a “Panthée” calls  for  clarication.  In his rst socialist writings,  Lévi openly identied as a “pantheist.”114 This does not come as a surprise, as “pantheism” was a term widely used to decry recent philosophical and religious tendencies, including the contemporary socialist currents to which Lévi adhered. Henry Maret (1837–1881), for example, a former disciple of  Lamennais and one of  the most distinguished Catholic apologists, saw the socialist school of the Saint-Simonians as the successors of a tradition that had originated in India before spreading to Egypt and Chaldea and then manifesting in the Greek Mysteries, the doctrine of Pythagoras, and the School of Alexandria with its Gnostic and Neoplatonist protagonists. From there, it started a tradition of erroneous “mysticism” that had recently manifested in eighteenth-century philosophy, most importantly German Idealism, and nally in contemporary socialist currents.115 In light of Lévi’s later writings, it is also noteworthy that the Kabbalah featured as an example of  “pantheism” in contemporary debates, which Lévi was certainly aware of.116 Apart from this (Neo-)Catholic context, 111  For Gautier’s treatment of Satan, see Milner, Diable, 2, 173–77; cf. Ibid., 1: 522–31. For Nerval, see ibid., 2: 274–309; cf. Ibid., 1: 583–94.112 Strube, Sozialismus, 236–39; cf. Luijk, “Satan,” 154.113 Constant, Bible, 17–19. Cf. Milner, Diable, 2, 249–51, where the parallels to Lamennais and Sand are highlighted. Also see the striking passage in Constant, Mère, 265.114 E.g., Assomption, XI.115  Henry Maret, Essai sur le panthéisme dans les sociétés modernes (Paris: Sapia, 1840), 97–111.116  This is especially the controversy between Paul Drach (1791–1865) and Adolphe Franck. See François Laplanche, La Bible en France entre mythe et critique, XVIe–XIXe siècle (Paris: Albin
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7962the publications  of  Lévi most notably reected the Romantic tendencies of July Monarchy socialism, which led critics to identify the socialist reformers as “modern pantheists.” Indeed, one of his most impressive works from this period, La Mère de Dieu (1844), is profoundly marked by a mystical pantheism.117 In his Livre des larmes of 1845, however, Lévi had turned to a Catholic traditionalism and rationalism propagated by Joseph de Maistre.118 He came to denounce pantheism as erroneous and emphasized the need for Catholic authority and hierarchy.119 This stance would harden in the following years. Most likely very aware of his “pantheistic” past, he did not merely abandon his old beliefs. As in so many other respects, he was convinced that he had come to understand their “true” meaning, regarding himself  as superior to others, be they rival socialists or Catholics, in his quest to establish “true” socialism and “true” Catholicism. This explains the ambiguousness of  his language about “pantheism.” It has to be seen within the changing dialectic between “true” and “false” doctrines that determined his historical narrative from the 1840s on.One of  the most striking aspects of  the Baphomet is its androgynous form. Indeed, androgyny is one of the most central themes in Lévi’s writings from the 1840s. In his Bible, as well as another publication from 1841 entitled L’assomption de la femme, Lévi envisioned the redemption of humankind and establishment of the association universelle after the second coming of  Christ, the rehabilitation of  Lucifer, and the emancipation of woman. He regarded the emancipation of  woman as a prerequisite for the progress of  society—a widespread notion in socialist circles—but she was also the one who, in the personication of  Mary, redeemed humanity by her Christ-like suffering and would eventually rehabilitate Lucifer, heralding the nal universal synthesis.120 Michel, 1994), 124–25, and Strube, Sozialismus, 404–05. Gougenot des Mousseaux, who was known for his notoriously anti-Semitic stance, leveled similar accusations against the Kabbalah.117 See esp. Constant, Mère, 273, 360. Cf. Paul Bénichou, Romantismes français, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Paris: Gallimard, 2004), 865–66. Léon Cellier viewed this work as one of the most remark-able products of  the period, see his Epopée romantique, 209–20.118 Strube, Sozialismus, 308–15.119  This was no renunciation of  his socialist ideas, as the reception of de Maistre, including his notion of  hierarchy and authority, had been central to the development of French social-ism, especially Saint-Simonism and later Fourierist variants. See “Socialist Religion,” 367–68; “Neues Christentum,” 148–49.120  Lévi equaled the suffering of  suppressed women to that of Christ, a notion that he proba-bly adopted from his friend Esquiros. For a study of July Monarchy socialist feminism, includ-ing the “Abbé Constant” as an example, see Naomi Judith Andrews, Socialism’s Muse: Gender in the Intellectual Landscape of  French Romantic Socialism (Lanham: Lexington Books, 2006) and “’La Mère Humanité’: Femininity in the Romantic Socialism of Pierre Leroux and the Abbé A.-L.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 63Quite remarkably, this synthesis would bring forth a union not only of humani-ty and God but also of  man and woman: “The two sexes will be one, according to the word of Christ; the great androgyne will be created, humanity will be woman and man.”121 In Mère, Lévi described a “new Earth” in the form of  the “universal Church”: “This is the palace of the husband and the wife; here lives pure and celestial love; here exists no distinction between the ranks and the sexes anymore: God alone is all in all.”122 Although androgyny used to be a typical motif  in Romantic literature, and although some of the ideas expressed by Lévi can be traced back directly to his friend and mentor Simon Ganneau—an eccentric socialist known as the “Mapah”123—the eclectic vision formulated in his 1840s writings stands out as one of the most remarkable products of  Romantic socialism. Given the prominence of androgyny in this vision, it is no surprise that the Baphomet, whom Lévi referred to as “the great androgyne,” represents a fusion of  the sexes. It has to be seen as a symbol of the realization of  the nal universal synthesis, which had been Lévi’s ultimate goal since he began to publish his radical ideas as the notorious Abbé Constant.The political dimension of  these ideas can hardly be overestimated. It did not disappear in Lévi’s occultist writings. More prominently than ever before, he began to propagate his idea of  an élite of initiates that was supposed to lead hu-manity to emancipation. He had already intensied this notion in his Testament de la liberté, but the disastrous aftermath of  the February Revolution of  1848, which brought forth the irreversible demise of  July Monarchy socialism, robbed him of his belief  in the ability of  “the masses” to emancipate themselves.124 However, he did not break with his former beliefs but modied them. Echoing his earlier writings, Lévi wrote in La clef  des grands mystères that the hommes d’élite would be responsible for the administration of “the interests and goods of  the universal family. Then, according to the promise of the Gospel, there will only be one ock and one shepherd [i.e., God].”125 He repeatedly differentiated between the “chosen ones” and the “masses,” but emphasized that it was the destiny of man to “create oneself ” and gain freedom from enslavement.126 It was the task of the people to “initiate themselves,” and as soon as their leaders would become wise, “the paths to emancipation will be open for everyone, to personal, successive, Constant,” Journal of  the History of  Ideas 63, no. 4 (2002).121 Constant, Assomption, 78–79.122 Mère, 279.123 Strube, Sozialismus, 256–68.124  Socialist Religion,” 369–70, 78; cf. Sozialismus, 512–22.125 Lévi, Clef, 64.126 Dogme et rituel, 2, 140f., Histoire, 47f., Clef, 20, 290.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7964progressive emancipation, by which all those following their vocation will be able, through their efforts, to achieve the rank of  the chosen ones.”127 This is the fundamental idea behind Lévi’s occultism. Its core elements are represented by the Baphomet. This is nowhere more obvious than in the last lines of the chapter “Le Baphomet” in the posthumous Livre des splendeurs. In a dramatic conclusion, Lévi heralded the establishment of   the nal universal religion on Earth in an enthusiastic socialist tenor: “The association of  all interests, / The federation of  all people, / The alliance of  all cults, / And universal solidarity.”1284. Polemics against Catholics and SpiritistsThe historical narrative underlying Lévi’s Baphomet has now been discussed, and it has been shown which main sources he used to develop it. A comprehen-sive understanding of its meaning, however, requires a closer look at the 1850s, when Lévi engaged in polemics with different opponents in order to defend his magical doctrine and distance himself  from others. It has already been indicated that he was part of  a generation of  disillusioned socialists who were excited by the vogue of the tables tournantes in 1853, which eventually led to the emergence of  the French Spiritist movement.129 Unlike many other socialists, he took a de-cidedly hostile stance towards the new phenomena, as his condescending article about the “folly” of the “prétendues sciences occultes” has illustrated. His sense of  superiority can be understood against two backgrounds: rst, he had gath-ered his knowledge about the workings of magic in a specic context which can be referred to as “spiritualistic magnetism”; second, as a “true” Catholic he was much less concerned about his magnetistic or Spiritist opponents than about prominent Catholic writers who occupied themselves with spirit phenomena.Magnetism and SpiritismLévi’s notion of the Astral Light (lumière astrale) is perhaps the best-known aspect of  his magical theory. Early recipients, such as Blavatsky, were mainly interested in this concept, and, as noted above, the Baphomet is in several ways an embodiment of the Astral Light. Contrary to occultist perspectives on the Astral Light, and contrary to recent scholarship, it must be stressed that 127 Histoire, 558.128 Le livre des splendeurs, contenant le soleil judaïque, la gloire chrétienne et l’étoile amboyante, études sur les origines de la cabale, avec des recherches sur les mystères de la francmaçonnerie, suivies de la profession de foi et des éléments de cabale (Paris: Chamuel, 1894), 113.129  Strube, “Socialist Religion,” 373–74.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 65Lévi did not rely on ancient, medieval, or even early modern sources when he developed this theory.130 He pointed out himself that he had borrowed the notion from “the school of Pasqualis Martinez,” i.e. Martinism.131 However, his actual sources came not from the late eighteenth century but from the 1850s. Most likely, he discovered the notion in a publication from 1852, La magie devoilée by Jean Du Potet de Sennevoy (1796–1881), which Lévi explicitly named as a source.132 He agreed with Du Potet’s conviction that the Astral Light denoted an agent magique that had been known to the Kabbalists, the Chaldean mages, the alchemists, and the Gnostics.133 As a médiateur plastique, it was the force behind magnetism and consequently the ultimate cause of magical operations.134 Lévi took great pains to distinguish this theory from other magnetistic approaches, and especially from somnambulism—hence his ongoing polemics against “dabblers.” In his view, the true practitioner of magic needed two fundamental qualications: rst, a natural disposition and individual training of the “will,” and second, an “initiation.”Although the Astral Light was a “blind mechanism” that worked “mathematically” and followed immutable laws,135 it was the will (volonté) of the magician that was needed to control it, and the exercise of this will required 130  See Bernd-Christian Otto, Magie. Rezeptions- und diskursgeschichtliche Analysen von der Antike bis zur Neuzeit (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2011), 520–21, where the Astral Light is traced from Agrippa and Paracelsus to Ficino; cf. “A (Catholic) ‘Magician’ Historicizes ‘Magic’: Eliphas Lévi’s Histoire de la Magie,” in History and Religion: Writing a Religious Past, ed. Bernd-Christian Otto, Susanne Rau, and Jörg Rüpke (Berlin: De Gruyter), 436.131 Lévi, Clef, 217.132 Dogme et rituel, 2, 75. The work contained a passage from the Philosophie divine by the Martinist Jean-Philippe Dutoit-Membrini (1721–1792), which was copied by Lévi and put in the very same context. Cf. Jules Du Potet de Sevennoy, La magie dévoilée ou principes de science occulte (Paris: Pommeret et Moreau, 1852), 137 and Jean-Philippe Dutoit-Membrini, La philosophie divine appliquée aux lumières naturelle, magique, astrale, surnaturelle, céleste et divine, vol. 1 (n.p., 1793), 35–36: “Cet esprit astral, ou feu ou lumière astrale, qui est le plus haut degré de la lumière des esprits, est supérieur toutefois à ce qu’on appelle l’esprit de la nature; et il en fait la force, les vertus et les rapports.” For more about Dutoit-Membrini, see Auguste Viatte, Les sources occultes du romantisme. Illuminisme, Théosophie 1770–1820, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Paris: Champion, 1928), 116–19. Also see Baier, Meditation, 1, 267–70, who recognized Du Potet’s importance to Lévi’s magical theory.133 Lévi, Clef, 217–18; Dogme et rituel, 1, 205.  Cf. Ibid., 2: 48:  “Scientiquement  on peut apprécier les diverses manifestations du mouvement universel par les phénomènes électriques ou magnétiques. Que les physiciens cherchent et découvrent : les cabalistes expliqueront les découvertes de la science.”134 Clef, 113–14.135 Dogme et rituel, 1, 185; Histoire, 18–19.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7966intensive schooling.136 This had been a common notion in magnetistic theories since the pioneering works of Puységur, and it is no surprise that Lévi came  to adopt it. It is noteworthy, however, that he had already come into contact with it in the 1840s and maybe even the 1830s. Discussions of  magnetism were omnipresent in the Romantic literature that he had devoured, for example in the works of Lamartine, Gautier, Nerval, Sand or Hugo. In his Rituel, he explicitly referred to Sand’s Spiridion in the context of magnetism.137 A look into the works of Balzac, to which Lévi referred enthusiastically throughout his lifetime, is very illuminating.138 In the so-called Livre mystique, which combined Balzac’s Séraphîta, Louis Lambert, and Les proscrits, and which was held by Lévi in the highest regard, one nds a “Traité de la volonté.”139 This Traité contains a number of ideas that would be central to Lévi’s occultism, such as the importance of  the “imagination,”140 the notion of a tradition of  magisme (also mentioned by Ragon),141 and an identication with the doctrine of Swedenborg, which Lévi critically discussed repeatedly.142 It will be recalled that Lévi had incorporated the ideas of  Fourier and Swedenborg in his science universelle, and that he had become acquainted with magnetistic and “Swedenborgian” theories (or theories that were perceived as such) in a socialist and Romantic context.143In any case, Constant only revealed an interest in magnetism in his publica-tions after 1853. His most immediate sources, including Du Potet, were those by the “spiritualistic magnetists.”144 Soon he “ofcially” joined their ranks, as his own books were printed by Germer Baillière, a medical publisher that housed the leading 136 Dogme et rituel, 1, 106; Clef, 287.137 Dogme et rituel, 2, 183, 206–07. Cf. George Sand, “Spiridion,” in Œuvres complètes (Genf: Slatkine, 1980), 414–16.138 E.g., he compared himself and Esquiros with Balzac’s Louis Lambert: Lévi, Histoire, 522–23. A comprehensive discussion of the role of esotericism for the writings of Balzac can be found in Anne-Marie Baron, Balzac occulte. Alchimie, magnétisme, sociétés secrètes (Paris: L’Age d’Homme, 2013).139  See Honoré de Balzac, Le livre mystique, 2 vols., vol. 1 (Paris: Werdet, 1835), 181–203. For a detailed discussion, see Strube, Sozialismus, 342–49. Cf. Robert Darnton, Mesmerism and the End of  the Enlightenment in France (Cambridge/London: Harvard University Press, 1968), 150–59, and Lynn R. Wilkinson, The Dream of  an Absolute Language: Emanuel Swedenborg and French Literary Culture (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996), esp. 163–64 and Baron, Balzac, 41–55.140 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 2, 158; Histoire, 220; Clef, 122, 96.141 E.g., Dogme et rituel, 1, 8; Histoire, 55–56, 92, 177. Cf. Ragon, Maçonnerie, 79–93.142 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 1, 169; ibid., 2: 182f.; Histoire, 412.143  See Strube, Sozialismus, 339–42, where the role of  the eccentric Constant Chéneau is dis-cussed in the context of the French reception of Swedenborg.144  See ibid., 460–70, 524–34; cf. John Warne Monroe, Laboratories of  Faith: Mesmerism, Spiritism, and Occultism in Modern France (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2008), 64–94.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 67spiritualistic magnetists.145 In contrast to theoreticians who perceived the magnetic force to be purely physical matter, these spiritualists were convinced of its pro-foundly religious and traditional implications. By arguing that the recent magnetistic approaches were only a rediscovery of  ancient magical wisdom, they heralded a future synthesis of science and religion. Lévi had probably met some of  them in the salons of an old friend and comrade, Charles Fauvety (1813–1894), who had argued that the doctrines of Swedenborg, Fourier, and Mesmer were essentially identical. He did so in a journal that he edited with Lévi in 1846, La vérité sur toutes choses.146 These magnetists included Louis Goupy, whose Quaere et invenies (1853) was advertised together with Lévi’s Dogme et rituel.147 Remarkably often, the spiritualistic magnetists were socialist veterans who were pursuing their old dream of a synthesis of  religion, science, and politics, seeking to establish a perfect social order. Du Potet, perhaps the most important source for Lévi’s magnetistic-magical theory, had an openly revolutionary past and concealed his socialist tendencies only because of  the unfavorable atmosphere of the 1850s.148 Alphonse Esquiros, who corresponded with Du Potet during the revolutionary years about the implications of  magnetism, had discussed “magic, magnetism, and occult medicine” as early as in his Evangile du peuple from 1840, a sort of  partner publication of the Bible de la liberté.149 In his La vie future au point de vue socialiste, which was written after the disastrous June Uprising of 1849 and contains an impressive depiction of Lévi’s and Esquiros’ despair, he main-tained that knowledge about the universal force of magnetism and the “occult” laws of  God would be the key to the emancipation of the people: “Until now, science has been the privilege of  the rich.”150 For Esquiros, the popularization of magnetism equaled a democratization of  science, which opened the paths for social progress.151145 E.g., Du Potet published his Manuel de l’étudiant magnétiseur in 1846. Other publications include Deleuzes’ Instruction pratique sur le magnétisme animal, and works by Louis-Alphonse Cahagnet—especially his Magie magnétique (1854), which was repeatedly cited by Lévi—Louis Goupy, Alexandre Brierre de Boismont, Charles Lafontaine, and André-Saturnin Morin.146  Charles Fauvety and Alphonse-Louis Constant, Le vérité sur toutes choses (Paris: Auguste Le Gallois, 1846), 41.147 Strube, Sozialismus, 461.148 See, e.g., Du Potet de Sevennoy, Magie, 112: “… c’est ainsi que nous pouvons prévoir et annoncer les plus grands changements dans l’humanité. Dieu me garde pourtant de formuler ces changements; on me prendrait pour un socialiste tout rouge.” Between 1846 and 1848, Du Potet had praised Mesmer as a great revolutionary and equaled his doctrine with those of  Saint-Simon and Fourier in his Journal du magnétisme.149  Alphonse Esquiros, L’Evangile du peuple, 2nd ed. (Paris: Le Gallois, 1840), 93.150 De la vie future au point de vue socialiste (Paris: Comon, 1850), 143.151 Years later, his (then ex-)wife Adèle wrote: “Les communistes ont cru trouver l’égalité dans le partage des biens. Mais quand même les parts seraient égales, il y aurait toujours les
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7968The parallels to Lévi’s political dimension of  occultism are even more striking in the writings of  another friend, Henri Delaage (1825–1882), a longtime collaborator of  both Du Potet and Esquiros.152 After he had heralded the regeneration of  woman and the “resurrection of  the crucied people” in the atmosphere of 1848, he published a remarkable book entitled Le monde occulte in 1851. Denouncing contemporary “materialism,” he demanded the study of “occult forces” which had been mastered by the ancients.153 Delaage expressed a decidedly “Catholic” identity and emphasized the need for “initiation,” which was inspired by Esquiros and in turn exerted a notable inuence on Ragon.154 He also was visibly inuenced by the doctrines of Fourier. Similar to Lévi, he had distanced himself from the “wrong” kinds of  socialism after 1851, which he, again like Lévi, saw as especially represented by the “materialist” and “atheist” school of Proudhon. The key to the realization of  a perfect social order was, in his eyes, the somnambulism taught by the ancient “initiations,” though this could only be understood in the light of the gospel: “Somnambulism without Kabbalistic initiation is nothing but a meteor that passes over our heads.” This true knowledge was about to be rediscovered, and Delaage viewed himself in the ranks of the “glorious battalion of  artists and literates” that would, “despite the jealous attacks of the bourgeoisie,” march towards an “immortal future.” As soon as this true somnambulism was adopted by “the priests,” the synthesis of  science and religion and the unity of  “social and religious institutions” would be realized, thus achieving true socialism and the “paradise on Earth.”155 Initiation and Catholicism were for Delaage, as they were for Lévi, obligatory prerequisites for understanding the key to truth.156These striking parallels prove that Lévi developed his magnetistic-magical theory in the context of  spiritualistic magnetism. This milieu was quite distinct from the emergent French Spiritist movement, although Allan différences individuelles. … Le secret de l’égalité ne serait-il pas dans le magnétisme, dans cette vie qu’on se passe les uns aux autres?” See Adèle Esquiros, “Banquet de la Pentecôte,” in Petite encyclopédie magnétique pour tous. Recueil complémentaire du “Magnétiseur universel”, ed. Fauvelle Le Gallois (Paris: E. Voitelain et Compagnie, 1868), 26.152 Strube, Sozialismus, 464–67.153 Delaage, Monde, 21–25.154 Cf. Delaage, Initiation and Delaage, Doctrines. For Ragon’s acknowledgement, see his Maçonnerie, 97.155  Henri Delaage, Le monde occulte, ou Mystères du magnétisme dévoilés par le somnambulisme (Paris: P. Lesigne, 1851), 21–25.156  This also becomes evident in the criticism of Esquiros in Les ressuscités au ciel et dans l’enfer (Paris: E. Dentu, 1855), 188–89.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 69Kardec (1804–1869) and his followers, the spirites, had also been decisively inuenced by socialist,  especially Fourierist theories.157 Lévi’s attacks on the tables tournantes were exacerbated by his antipathy towards public spectacles. In July 1857, he published a scathing series of articles in the newspaper L’Estafette, denouncing the performances of  the popular medium Daniel Dunglas Home (1833–1886), who came to be one of  his favorite targets.158 With a typical absence of  modesty, Lévi challenged the spectacles by comparing them to his superior “haute magie,” a behavior that was ridiculed by the magnetist Louis-Constant Cahagnet as an “advertisement” for his own books.159 Lévi made no secret of  his contempt for somnambulists and mediums, who he regarded as “sick, eccentric, and unbalanced beings.”160 He insisted that “the American doctrine” posed serious risks because it was detached from “priestly authority” and “control by hierarchy.”161 When the Spiritist movement became a recognizable force in public discourse, Lévi launched several attacks on it.162 Yet, his engagement with the actual spirite doctrine was strikingly cursory and supercial, even in his Science des esprits of 1865.163Modern Catholic DemonologyLévi paid relatively little attention to the Spiritists and simply referred to them as puerile amateurs. He usually did so by stressing the need for initiation into the Kabbalistic secrets of  “true” Catholicism. This strategy, however, did not work so easily against another class of  opponents, Catholic authors who started to denounce the new phenomena and the theories they entailed, most especially Jules-Eudes de Mirville (1802–1873) and Roger Gougenot des Mousseaux (1805–1876), who interpreted the magnetistic and spirit phenomena as the 157  For the central role of  Fourierism in Spiritism (and Spiritualism in the USA), see the ref-erences in Strube, “Socialist Religion,” 373–74.158 Lévi, Histoire, 172, 88, 456.159 Louis-Alphonse Cahagnet, Encyclopédie magnétique spiritualiste, traitant sécialement de faits psycologique, magie magnétique, swedenborgianisme, nécromancie, magie céleste, etc., vol. 3 (Paris: Chez l’Auteur/Germer Baillière, 1858), 202. Cahagnet repeatedly criticized Lévi and his friends, especially because of  their self-identication as Catholics.160 Lévi, Histoire, 172, 494; Clef, 140–44, 93.161 Histoire, 297.162 Clef, 167. Cf. his earlier treatment of disciples of Kardec, the Comte d’Ourches and the Baron de Goldenstubbé in Histoire, 500–07.163  Interestingly, Kardec was simply dismissed as a “pantheist” and a poor imitation of  the Saint-Simonians, Swedenborgians, and Mormons: La science des esprits. Révélation du dogme secret des kabbalistes, esprit occulte des évangiles, appréciation des doctrines et des phénomènes spirites (Paris: Germer Baillière, 1865), 122, 364–65.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7970workings of the devil and his demons. While they welcomed the new interest in spirituality and the overdue criticism of materialism, they warned of diabolical forces behind the phenomena and urged people to adhere to the Catholic faith in order to avoid being misled by them.164 Their works have to be counted among the most important sources for Lévi, especially de Mirville’s Pneumatologie: Des esprits et de leurs manifestations uidiques, which appeared between 1851 and 1864 in ve volumes and was critically reviewed by Lévi’s wife Marie-Noémi in the Revue progressive (1853). Gougenot des Mousseaux’s Mœurs et pratiques des démons ou des esprits visiteurs (1854) and his study of La magie au dix-neuvième siècle (1860) were less central to Lévi, but still functioned as an important point of  reference. Both authors reacted not only to the vogue of magnetism, somnambulism, and Spiritism, but also to the countless cases of possession and other “supernatural” events that had occurred en masse since the beginning of  the century.165Within the Church, the attitude towards magnetism was anything but monolithic. Famously, Henri Lacordaire (1802–1861), one of  the most prolif-ic former disciples of  Lamennais, had adopted magnetistic theories as early as the late 1840s for his spiritualist apology of  Catholicism. In his enormously successful Conférences in Notre-Dame, which attracted an audience amounting to tens of thousands,166 he had even attributed the miracles of Jesus Christ to his mastery of  “occult forces.”167 As a matter of fact, Lacordaire, who had taken a seat among the Left in the National Assembly of 1848, was a friend of  Delaage’s and wrote a preface to Le monde occulte.168 Such exchanges were possible because it took the Church several decades to agree upon an ofcial position towards these matters.169 It has to be kept in mind that the nineteenth century saw a surge in miracles and apparitions of  saints and the Holy Virgin, such as the one in Salette (1846). Church authorities faced the difcult task of 164 Strube, Sozialismus, 537–38; cf. Laurant, Esotérisme, 89–92; Nicole Edelman, Voyantes, guérisseuses et visionnaires en France (Paris: Michel, 1995), 165–68; Yves Vadé, L’enchantement littéraire. Ecriture et magie de Chateaubriand à Rimbaud (Paris: Gallimard, 1990), 272; Frank Paul Bowman, “Une lecture politique de la folie religieuse ou théomanie,” Romantisme 24 (1979): 85–86; Monroe, Laboratories, 30–36.165  For a comprehensive overview, see the seminal study by Bertrand Méheust, Somnambulisme et médiumnité (1784 – 1930), 2 vols. (Le Plessis Robinson: Synthélabo, 1999).166 Julien Favre, “Lacordaire orateur. Sa formation et la chronologie de ses oeuvres” (Dissertation, Universität Fribourg, 1906), and Renée Zeller, Lacordaire et ses amis (Paris: Ernest Flammarion, 1930).167  Henri-Dominique Lacordaire, Conférences de Notre-Dame de Paris, vol. 3 (Paris: Poussielgue Frères, 1872), 59–60.168 Delaage, Monde, 5–10.169 Jérôme Rousse-Lacordaire, Esotérisme et christianisme. Histoire et enjeux théologiques d’une expatriation (Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 2009), 196–203.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 71differentiating between legitimate and reprehensible supernatural phenomena. Lacordaire can be seen as one of those Catholics who interpreted magnetism as a natural “occult force,” while de Mirville and Gougenot des Mousseaux represented those who warned of  the infernal forces behind it.170Authors such as Du Potet and Lévi, who explicitly referred to a tradition of  magical wisdom, naturally  came into the ring  line of  the new Catholic demonologists. Lévi was not outright decried as a necromancer by these vocal adversaries, but they argued that he, just like so many magicians before him, was unwittingly dealing with demons which he was fatally mistaking for a neutral natural agent. An obvious point of attack was the Baphomet and the heretical tradition it represented. De Mirville regarded Lévi as one of the “faux alexan-drins modernes,” referring to the Baphomet of the Templars and citing Matter’s study.171 This reminds us once more how prominently the School of  Alexandria and the theory of  the two opposing traditions emerging from it featured in nineteenth-century debates about religious legitimacy. De Mirville devoted a long passage in the third volume of his Pneumatologie to a crushing criticism of  Lévi’s works, which supposedly represented a “false spiritualism” rooted in the mystical-pantheistic errors of  Alexandria. The Baphomet served him as an easy target, as Lévi himself  had presented it as a “pantheistic and magical gure.”172 Similarly, Gougenot des Mousseaux warned of  the dangers of  the Astral Light theory symbolized by the Baphomet. Quite correctly, he described Lévi as one of  the contemporary magnétistes transcendants, alongside Du Potet and Goupy, and warned of  his confusion of  demonic and natural forces.173Lévi’s defense against such accusations was radical. He simply denied the existence of the devil altogether: “Satan, as a superior personality and as force, does not exist.  Satan is the personication of  all errors, all  perversities, and consequently also of all weaknesses.”174 That which is referred to “in a vulgar manner” as the devil is nothing but the malicious intentions of misled persons: “The devil, in black magic, is the great magical agent employed for evil by a per-170 In 1863, both were invited as referents on an important Catholic congress in Malines where such matters were discussed. See Nicole Edelman, “Somnambulisme, médiumnité et socialisme,” Politica Hermetica 9 (1995): 167.171  Jules-Eudes de Mirville, Pneumatologie, Des Esprits et de leur manifestations uidiques, 5 vols., vol. 2 (Paris: H. Vrayet et Surcy, 1863), 143.172  Ibid., 3: 399–414, cf. 240, 75.173 Roger Gougenot des Mousseaux, La magie au dix-neuvième siècle. Ses agents, ses vérités, ses mensonges (Paris: H. Plon, 1860), 45, 360–61, 37, 227–28, 45; cf. Moeurs et pratiques des démons ou des esprits visiteurs du spiritisme ancien et moderne, 2nd ed. (Paris: Henri Plon, 1865), xxiv–xxv.174 Lévi, Dogme et rituel, 2, 213.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7972verted will.”175 In his earliest writings, Lévi had adopted a kind of Augustinian doctrine of privation, which interpreted the devil as nothing but the negation of  good. In his Assomption, he declared that his reading of  mystics like Madame Guyon had  taught him to  “crush  the leaden gure  of  Satan under my feet” and reject the notion of evil and damnation.176 Also he vehemently protested against the identication of Lucifer with Satan.177 He developed this further in his theory of  the Astral Light and in the broader context of magnetism.178 Lévi regarded belief  in Satan and his machinations as nothing but “superstition.”179 However, in his occultist writings Lucifer and Satan came to symbolize two opposing tendencies in human nature, which did not exist as independent forces but as positive or negative instrumentations of the Astral Light.180 This metaphor was applied in religious, philosophical, and political ways, as Lucifer was depicted as the force of liberty and progress, while Satan stood for per-version and anarchy—this is the main reason why it is mistaken to identify the Baphomet with the inverted pentagram described in Rituel.181 Lévi’s notion of equilibrium, as represented by the Baphomet, has to be seen against this back-ground. This becomes especially clear in the following passage:Let us say now, for the edication of the vulgar, for the satisfaction of  Monsieur le Comte de Mirville, for the justication of Bodin the demonomaniac, for the great-est glory of  the Church, which has persecuted the Templars, burnt the magicians, excommunicated the Freemasons, etc., etc.; let us boldly and frankly say that all initiates of  the occult sciences (I am talking about inferior initiates and profaners of  the great arcanum) have adored, still adore, and will always adore that which is signied by this dreadful symbol.Yes, in our profound conviction, the grand masters of the Order of the Temple have adored the Baphomet and they have made their initiates adore him…; but the adorers of  this sign do not think like us that it is the representation of  the devil, but rather that of  the god Pan, the god of  our schools of modern philosophy, the 175  Ibid., 1: 289; cf. Ibid., 226, 107; ibid., 2: 102.176 Constant, Assomption, xx.177 For a detailed discussion of the sometimes ambiguous relationship between Lucifer and Satan in Lévi’s works, see Strube, Sozialismus, 541–43 and “Eliphas Lévi. Lucifer as Revolutionary and Redeemer,” in Satanism: A Reader, eds. Per Faxneld and Johan Nilsson (New York et al.: Oxford University Press). Cf. Luijk, “Satan,” esp. 155–67.178 Lévi, Clef, 219, 50.179 Histoire, 291–97, 417.180  Ibid., 12–16, 192–201.181 Dogme et rituel, 2, 98.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 73god of  the theurgists of the School of Alexandria and of the Neoplatonic mystics of  our days: the god of  Lamartine and of Monsieur Hugo, the god of Spinoza and Plato, the god of the primitive Gnostic schools; even the Christ of the dissident priesthood; and this last qualication, ascribed to the goat of black magic, will not astonish those who study the religious antiquities and who are acquainted with the phases of  the diverse transformations of  the symbolism and dogma, be it in India, be it in Egypt, be it in Judea.182This is one of  the most quoted passages referring to the Baphomet, but oddly enough it has never been put in the context that was made very explicit by Lévi himself: his polemics against Mirville and other Catholic authors. Obviously, his statement about the Baphomet and the tradition behind it is marked by a curious ambiguousness, which might appear puzzling if taken out of context. Lévi was implicitly  conrming that  the Baphomet was the  object  of   Devil worship, witches’ sabbaths and other abominable practices, while at the same time presenting it as an embodiment of  the tradition that he regarded as the bearer of the one and only eternal truth. This equivocalness has hopefully become more comprehensible for the reader in light of the dialectical narrative discussed in the previous section, and in light of the various contexts in which Lévi positioned himself  as the provider of  the universal key to occult wisdom.5. ConclusionIt has been shown that the notion of synthesis and harmony that underlies Lévi’s Baphomet can only be comprehended against the background of  the socialist doctrines he articulated in his writings of  the 1840s. This political character of his occultism, which became most obvious in his articles for the Revue philosophique et religieuses, and then in his writings from La clef  des grands mystères forwards, is expressed by its nal aim to create a perfect social order. Lévi wanted to realize this project by creating an élite of initiates, a kind of  occultist Avantgarde, who were to take up the secret tradition represented by the Baphomet. The rst step towards this was “to create oneself,” a task that should follow the emancipatory Luciferian aspiration towards liberty and knowledge. Lévi wrote quite explicitly that he wanted to open up the path to emancipation for everyone, until there would only be “one family” equal before God. Until then, however, the barrier of  “initiation” would ensure that only 182  Ibid., 209–10. The reference to “symbolism” reects the countless plates that can be found in works such as Matter’s and the numerous contemporary studies about the origins of  religion.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–7974the worthy would lead the ock towards the light.  In developing his notion of  initiation he was clearly inspired by Freemasonry, as represented in works such as Ragon’s. In the 1850s, Freemasonry had become a gathering point for the opposition, and the salons of Fauvety turned into an important platform for this process.183 However, Lévi had been highly skeptical of Freemasonry from the beginning, and only became a Freemason for a short period before polemically distancing himself from the movement and denouncing it sharply. Once more, he had turned his back on those who he regarded as “false” representatives of a tradition which they failed to understand. The superior “science” that Lévi propagated was supposed to lead to the nal synthesis of science, religion,  and  philosophy. This required the for-mation of  the science universelle that Lévi rst described in the 1840s and later developed into his magical theory. The reader will have noted the absence of Medieval and Early Modern sources in this article. Lévi did consult the works of  authors from those periods, most notably Guillaume Postel, Paracelsus, Franciscus Patricius or Heinrich Khunrath, but his treatment was cursory and remarkably supercial.184 Instead, it has been demonstrated that his magical theory was developed in the context of spiritualistic magnetism and his po-lemics against Catholic writers. His concept of the Astral Light, which was so central to his drawing of the Baphomet, can only be understood against the background of  the 1850s.At the center of Lévi’s writings stood his identity as a “true Catholic,” an identity that he shared with authors such as Delaage. This question of “true” religion was the subject of literally all the discourses that have been discussed in the present article. It is curious that the School of Alexandria became the focal point not only of  debates about the history of  Freemasonry, but also about the origins of  Christianity, the history of Gnosticism, and the develop-ment of  socialism, which supposedly ranked among the most recent heirs of either the tradition of  error or that of  truth. This shows the preoccupation of  contemporaries with the origin and the future of religion, which often man-ifested as a belief in the primitive unity of all religions and its restoration in a future synthesis. Lévi’s historical narrative appears against this background, not as the result of an ancient esoteric tradition, but as the outcome of  prom-inent discourses about the meaning and place of religion in modern society. 183 Strube, Sozialismus, 482–84.184  Ibid., 544–63. Cf. the early criticism by Arthur Edward Waite in Eliphas Lévi, Transcendental Magic: Its Doctrine and Ritual, trans. Arthur Edward Waite (London: Redway, 1896), xi–xiii. Waite developed his own highly speculative narrative of initiation to explain the ambiguous doctrine of  Lévi.
Strube / Correspondences 4 (2016) 37–79 75As one of  many socialists who had been disillusioned by the failed revolution of  1848, he developed his occultism in distinct opposition to “false” socialism and “false” Catholicism, the two constant points of reference in his writings, which consequently functioned as his main identity markers. The monstrous gure of  the Baphomet is an embodiment of  all those aspects: the nal syn-thesis of science, religion, philosophy, and politics, which would be realized through the progressive decryption of  the tradition of  “true” religion and the creation of  the Kingdom of  God on Earth