What if everyone involved in the French revolution — not just the Third Estate, the defectors of the French Royal Army, the Sans-culottes, and the Jacobins (including and especially Robespierre), but also the counterrevolutionary émigrés and royalists, and the coalitions that emerged to combat the Revolution — what if every single one of them had been pwned all along?
What if, far from being an indictation that God had abandoned France, the sheer molten plasticity of the Revolution, its resentment and foolishness incarnating itself in numerous constitutions, regimes, reactions, reactions to reactions, using and discarding ambitious politicians as so many masks, was nothing more than a divine purgative, a "great purification", to free the metal of France from its "sour and impure dross", so that it could be made more malleable in the hands of a future king?
Maistre does not formulate the above as a question. Every sentence in Considerations on France appears in the form of a declaration: the Revolution just is God punishing and purifying France; the victory of the Republic against royalist insurgents just is a Providential guarantee of the integrity of France as a nation, not a vindication of republican government. In fact, republican government simply does not exist. We'll come back to that one, but let's be clear: Maistre is not interested in argument, "sound reasoning", or even internal consistency: if any of these things are present, it is not integral; it is merely an effect. The grandiose mad fury of his reactionary conservatism has less in common with Catholicism as a religious practice than it does with the intimidating, inhuman beauty of Catholic architecture.
Nothing could possibly live inside Maistre's architectonic hatred, but even for a nonbeliever it's one hell of a tourist attraction.
*
Maistre does not believe in any such thing as common humanity. With vicious brio, he declares: "In my lifetime I have seen Frenchmen, Italians, Russians, etc.; thanks to Montesquieu, I even know that one can be Persian. But as for man, I declare that I have never in my life met him; if he exists, he is unknown to me."
This embodies the conservative insight that people do not float indeterminately and accidentally through societies that have no hold on them, but exist in and through their history, culture, and language. In Maistre's thought, this is charged with reactionary disgust at cultural and ethical criticism as an unjustifiable and seditious leap into abstraction. Liberal political and ethical theory insists on the impossibility of fixed natural hierarchy, the solubility of ethical disagreement, and the categorical universality of political and ethical laws, and so liberals tend to find empirical reality embarrassing. Forgetting the men they live amongst, they are always inclined to speak of "the natural rights of man". For Maistre, this language commits a category error: rights belong to really existing people, not just to "man", a thing that has never existed and never will.
You may have heard this one before: Every attempt to bring "man" into being leads into satanic inhumanity, tyranny, and — God forbid — atheism...
*
From Maistre's reactionary contempt for the great mass of humankind (which is not the same thing as humanity — human beings are a particular kind of animal requiring constant and harsh discipline; humanity is nothing more than a rationalist hallucination), the following claim emerges: "A large and free nation cannot exist under a republican government." Democracy in modernity is, strictly speaking, impossible. The liberal postulate is that man is a rational animal capable of self-legislation and, by extension, universally valid legislation within a state. Maistre finds this absurd. He doesn't offer a "rational" argument for this and he doesn't feel a need to: empirically speaking, the Revolution is a clear refutation of democratic principles.
"Representative democracy" is a contradiction in terms, and even if it were not, the tendency for representatives to find themselves snatched up by parties, and then for parties to be dominated by certain ambitious personalities, which themselves use the organs of state to intimidate and to crush dissent, demonstrates the futility of this idea of democracy in practice. What is funny is just how modular this critique is. Who still believes in the abstract and universal human being of liberal theory today?
But reading it from the pen of someone like Maistre, does that worry you?
*
"There is nothing but violence in the universe; but we are spoiled by a modern philosophy that tells us all is good, whereas evil has tainted everything, and in a very real sense, all is evil, since nothing is in its place... But let us not lose courage: there is no chastisement that does not purify; there is no disorder that ETERNAL LOVE does not turn against the principle of evil."
I share with Maistre his impatience for rationalist abstractions, and his delight in rubbing the obvious fact of human evil in the faces of reformers and optimists too wilful to see it. Everything else about him is entirely alien to me — and idiotic: his monarchism, his delight in mystical or absurd argumentation, his naive insistence on the intrinsic value of tradition. Not once did I agree with anything in this text that wasn't merely a mirror of myself. This is an otherwordly psychology; a different genus of mind. Don't mistake convergence for sympathy.
People describe Maistre as cold and dry; frankly I think the opposite. The hand that wrote these words was slick with sweat and flush with hatred. As an insight into the fascist mindset, Maistre is exemplary: his contempt is not dangerous; his hope is.