“We are bringing them the plague.”—Sigmund Freud, on his way to America in 1909
…by Jonas E. Alexis
Like Carl Jung, Sigmund Freud did not base psychoanalysis, which he championed to the entire Western world, on scientific premises.
When psychoanalysis came to America, it was largely viewed as an unproven system of thought. Though no evidence was available, psychoanalysis began to dominate American culture for more than fifty years.
Moreover, psychoanalysis began to replace the Western foundation of the soul. When Freud came into the scene, everything changed. Jewish scholar Andrew R. Heine argues,
“Until Freud, new understandings of the psyche were intertwined with varieties of Christian experience and post-Christian mysticism.”
Freudian psychology slowly but surely began to dominate the classical psychology, which started with the Greeks and which was to a large extent based on reason. Psychology progressively began to be viewed as an academic exercise for smuggling in Jewish ideology. As Jones puts it,
“The redefinition of psychology was a revolution in the truest sense of the word. What was up went down, and what was down went up. Before that revolution, reason sat on instinct like a rider on a horse.”
When reason lost its proper place, Jewish psychology, as we shall see, began to unleash a plethora of sexual instinct upon mankind. Jones continues,
“Jewish psychology was either covertly, as with Freud, or overtly, as with Wilhelm Reich, instinctual.”
That sexual instinct got morphed into the sexual revolution and then got reincarnated in one way or another in films by David Cronenberg, Eli Roth, Lar von Trier, etc.
Jewish psychologists played a big role in bringing about this cultural warfare. “Under Jewish influence, American psychology became Talmudic as well….it was seen as a weapon against Christian culture.”
The ethics of this form of psychology, as Heinze argues, is neither Greek nor German or Western, but it has a Judaic ring to it.
Heinze declares that the impact of this psychological warfare began to fully form in the twentieth century, “for Jewish thinkers introduced their ideas in tension with Christian society.”
According to Heinze, “the psyche of Jewish youth,” as seen in the lives of Freud and Adler in particular, is shaped by “an ever-present tension with the Christian world,” but this “tension of the Jewish-Christian relationship deeply affected the moral sensibility of Austrian and German Jews in the late nineteenth century.”
Freud was on a Jewish mission. Jewish professor of psychiatry Thomas Szasz of New York University writes that “one of Freud’s most powerful motives in life was…to inflict vengeance on Christianity.”
Other Jewish scholars such as Stanley Rothman and S. Robert Lichter noted the same thing, adding that
“though it is sometimes forgotten today, Freud’s work was profoundly subversive to the cultural underpinnings of European Christian society…There is evidence that some of the impetus for the creation of psychoanalysis lay in his hostility to Christianity.”
Jewish scholar Peter Gay of Princeton was even more specific, adding that Freud was “proud of his enemies…he likened himself to Hannibal, to Ahasuerus, to Joseph, to Moses, all men with historic missions, potent adversaries, and difficult fates.”
For Jewish scholar David Bakan of York University, Canada, “Freud, consciously or unconsciously, secularized Jewish mysticism.” Jewish writer Chaim Bermant similarly wrote that Freud’s
“very definition of the Id, the Ego and the Super Ego correspond in many ways to the three different gradations of the spirit—the nefesh, ruach and neshamah—outlined in the Kabbalah, which does not mean that Freud was himself a Kabbalist, but something of the Kabbalistic tradition of inquiry seems to have affected his outlook.” Scholars such as Michael Eigen hold similar views.
Freud in fact had a secret library in which he housed books on the Kabbala, and a copy of the Zohar, which is “the most important document in Jewish mysticism,” and which, among other things, “taught the Jews to sacrifice Christian virgins for God’s pleasure.”
In addition, Freud took part in the B’nai B’rith lodge in Vienna, and “among his recreations was his weekly game of taroc, a popular card game based on Kabbala.”
As we shall see, Freud used scientific pretensions to unleash a venom—psychoanalysis—upon the Western world, but psychoanalysis has close to nothing to do with science.
Freud, like Jung, left the scientific field and went into religion—and even the occult. When he began to say goodbye to scientific exploration which he had acquired in anatomy and physiology and began to wander in a fantasy dream,
“he became more of a stranger to his colleagues. They could see no link whatever between those years of solid and fruitful medical research and his new interests and methods.
“Later, many psychoanalysts used to take the opposite view of the first part of Freud’s working life: they looked at it as a time spent in a foreign land, at best a period of preparation, at worst a waste of precious years as far as psycho-analysis was concerned.”
As many writers have argued, Freud’s childhood was warped around Jewish heroes and indeed Judaism, and Freud fancied himself as Hannibal, the Semitic warrior and military leader who challenged Rome during the Punic wars.
As a boy, Freud has always viewed himself as a Semite who would conquer the Gentile world. This became possible when Freud began to use psychoanalysis as a weapon. Freud identified himself with Hannibal partially because of what he said happened to his father Jakob. Freud wrote in The Interpretation of Dreams:
“I may have been ten or twelve years old, when my father began to take me with him on his walks and reveal to me in his talk his views upon things in the world we live in. Thus it was, on one such occasion, that he told me a story to show me how much better things were now than they had been in his days.
“‘When I was a young man,’ he said, ‘I went for a walk one Saturday in the streets of your birthplace; I was well dressed, and had a new fur cap on my head. A Christian came up to me and with a single blow knocked off my cap into the mud and shouted: ‘Jew! Get off the pavement!’ ‘And what did you do?’ I asked. ‘I went into the roadway and picked up my cap,’ was his quiet reply.
“This struck me as unheroic conduct on the part of the big, strong man who was holding the little boy by the hand. I contrasted this situation with another which fitted my feelings better: the scenes in which Hannibal’s father, Hamilcar Barca, made his boy swear before the household altar to take vengeance on the Romans. Ever since that time Hannibal had had a place in my fantasies.”
Whether Jakob was merely trying to get his little boy excited about Jewish vengeance or whether the story actually took place we cannot tell.
Be that as it may, biographers tell us that this moment left a terrible effect on Freud and, in the process, he began to repudiate the goyim, particularly those who embraced Christianity.
Peter Gay declares that this moment led him to develop “fantasies of revenge.” This point is well established:
“Yerushalmi notes, ‘We find in Freud a sense of otherness vis-à-vis non-Jews which cannot be explained merely as a reaction to anti-Semitism. Though anti-Semitism would periodically reinforce or modify it, this feeling seems to have been primal, inherited from his family and early milieu, and it remained with him throughout his life.’”
These “fantasies of revenge” were actualized in the development of psychoanalysis, which Freud later labeled “the plague.” Like Hannibal, who had vowed to make Rome pay, Freud had sworn to make Christianity pay, which he identified as the Catholic Church. Hence, psychoanalysis was the epicenter of Freud’s revenge on Christianity.
Yet “to inflict vengeance on Christianity,” Jewish intellectual revolutionaries like Freud could not do the work by themselves largely because the Jewish population is too small to bring about a sweeping revolution. They had to bring in the goyim. For Freud, this was Carl Jung, a former Protestant whom Freud would refer to as “my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”
Psychoanalysis was almost entirely a Jewish revolutionary movement, and it used to be referred to as a “Jewish science.” Freud had to find some Gentile to make the movement more inclusive. This is one reason why he worked tirelessly to make Jung a figurehead in the psychoanalytic movement. He told Jung in a letter written in 1908,
“You really are the only one capable of making an original contribution to [psychoanalysis].”
He also wrote to a Swiss psychologist named Ludwig Binswanger, “When the realm I have found is orphaned, no one but Jung shall inherit it.” For Freud, according to David Bakan, Jung was “a bridge to the Gentile world.”
But Freud’s Jewish fellows were not satisfied with Jung, wishing Freud had chosen a Jew for the task. Freud took great pains to ensure that a gentile, Jung, would be the head of his psychoanalytic movement—a move that infuriated his Jewish colleagues in Vienna, but one that was clearly intended to de-emphasize the very large overrepresentation of Jews in the movement during this period.
To persuade his Jewish colleagues of the need for Jung to head the society, he argued,
“Most of you are Jews, and therefore you are incompetent to win friends for the new teaching. Jews must be content with the modest role of preparing the ground. It is absolutely essential that I should form ties in the world of science.…
“As Yerushalmi (1991, 41) notes, ‘To put it very crudely, Freud needed a goy, and not just any goy but one of genuine intellectual stature and influence.’
“Later, when the movement was reconstituted after World War I, another gentile, the sycophantic and submissive Ernest Jones, became president of the International Psychoanalytic Association.”
Jewish subversive movements have always worked that way. Lenin had a clear intention to mercilessly destroy the Church, and there were enough Jewish revolutionaries like him who had the same intention. Yet
“he feared an anti-Semitic backlash if Jews were seen to be running this ‘pogrom in reverse’ against Russian Christians, so an ethnic Russian had to be nominally in charge of crushing the Church. ‘Any measures whatsoever must be officially announced only by Comrade Kalinin—never under any circumstances may Comrade Trotsky make any public statements in print or any other way.’”
Jung became president of the International Psychoanalytic Association in 1910, “with Freud’s benediction and to the great dismay of the Viennese contingent,” but he broke up with Freud four years later.
Be that as it may, Jung indeed had mapped out a plan as to how psychoanalysis was going to conquer intellectuals and scholars—not through reason and empirical evidence but, like cult religions and Jewish subversive movements, through seduction. He wrote,
“I imagine a far finer and more comprehensive task for [psychoanalysis] than alliance with an ethical fraternity. I think we must give it time to infiltrate into people from many centers, to revivify among intellectuals a feeling for symbol and myth, ever so gently to transform Christ back into the soothsaying God of the vine, which he was, and in this way absorb those ecstatic instinctual forces of Christianity for the one purpose of making the cult and the sacred myth what they once were—a drunken feast of joy where man regained the ethos and holiness of an animal. That was the beauty and purpose of classical religion.”
One of Freud’s major works is The Interpretation of Dreams, which, as we shall see, is clever nonsense. Freud strongly believed that he was not the original creator of the book, but that it was revealed to him.
Freud asserts in the introduction, “I do not think I have overstepped the boundary of neuro-pathological science.” This is a scientific pretension, but keep in mind that scientific tests or inquiries are quite different from philosophical speculations or opinions.
When Isaac Newton posited the notion of gravity, it had some scientific backbone, and it was and still is observable. In a nutshell, any scientific inquiry has to go through rigorous scientific tests in order to be established as a reasonable theory.
Dreams, by definition, cannot be tested—or disproved—by any scientific method, let alone be disproved by scientific inferences. It is a non-scientific enterprise and any interpretation will be based on a particular Weltanschauung and therefore will be purely subjective.
Right here we can dismiss Freud’s grand delusion in The Interpretation of Dreams, since there is no scientific way of adjudicating competing explanations as to why this hypothesis or that hypothesis is scientifically true.
But Freud’s grand delusion in The Interpretation of Dreams does not lie in the sciences but in his theory of psychoanalysis known as the Oedipus complex.
According to Greek mythology, Oedipus was born in Thebes, son of King Laius and Queen Jocasta. Laius and Jocasta could not bear children. As a result, they decided to consult the Oracle at Delphi. The Oracle’s answer to them was simple—their child would eventually kill Laius and marry Jocasta.
Shortly thereafter, Jocasta bore a child. Laius, afraid of the prophecy, gave the baby boy to a shepherd to be left on a mountain. Instead of leaving the baby on the mountain to die, he passed the boy to another shepherd, who nurtured and reared Oedipus as his own child. Oedipus ended up living in the house of Polybus and Merope, king and queen of Corinth, who had no children.
Oedipus, who wanted to know about his parents and how he eventually got into the world, sought the Oracle and was told that he was destined to kill his father and marry his mother. Oedipus, like his father, did not want that to happen, and left Corinth in order to escape his “destiny.”
As he was leaving the country, he came to a road where he met a man on a chariot and disputed with him about who should go first. Oedipus fought intensely, and eventually killed the man. Oedipus continued on his journey and came face to face with the Sphinx who would stop travelers to ask them one simple question,
“What walks on four feet in the morning, two in the afternoon and three at night?”
The wrong answer to the question would lead a traveler to his death, but a right answer would allow him to continue on his journey.
As the Sphinx posed the question to Oedipus, Oedipus responded,
“Man; as an infant, he crawls on all fours, as an adult, he walks on two legs and, in old age, he relies on a walking stick.”
No one was able to answer the Sphinx correctly until Oedipus came along. The Sphinx, astounded at Oedipus’s brilliant answer, jumped off a cliff to end her life. The people of Thebes, seeing this miraculous event, crowned Oedipus king of Thebes and asked him to marry the queen of Thebes, a widow.
After a few years, and after having four children, Oedipus found that the man he killed on his way to Thebes was his own father, and the queen of Thebes his mother. The story ends in complete despair and tragedy. Jocasta ended up hanging herself in the palace, and Oedipus ended up gouging out his own eyes.
This myth was a powerful idea for Freud for two reasons. Freud saw that no matter what the parents or Oedipus did to prevent the prophecy from coming to pass, fate ended up prevailing. Second, Freud saw that Oedipus marrying his mother is a universal law. As he writes,
“[Oedipus’s] fate moves us only because it might have been our own, because the oracle laid upon us before our birth the very curse which rested upon him. It may be that we were all destined to direct our first sexual impulses toward our mothers, and our first impulses of hatred and violence toward our fathers; our dreams convince us that we were.
“King Oedipus, who slew his father Laius and wedded his mother Jocasta, is nothing more or less than a wish-fulfillment—the fulfillment of the wish or our childhood.”
Remember from the story that this sexual component is unavoidable. In other words, it is psychic determinism. A boy has no other choice but to have sexual desires toward his mother and hatred toward his father. A girl has no other choice but to have sexual desires toward her father and hatred toward her mother.
E. Michael Jones argues that here Freud was projecting his own sexual liberation upon mankind, as he had a love affair with his sister-in-law. On his voyage to America, Freud was confronted with this fact by Carl Jung and immediately Freud ended the discussion. “I cannot risk my authority,” he said. Jung took that as an admission that Freud “was placing personal authority above truth.”
Louis Breger of California Institute of Technology writes that Freud used the Oedipal theory “to account for his own neurosis as well as everyone else’s.”
Moreover, when confronted to give scientific evidence, Freud backed off, and persuaded Jung never to abandon the theory no matter what the scientific community said. Unlike Charles Darwin, who praised some of his critics, Freud not only silenced his critics by his rhetorical skills but, as Peter Gay put it,
“orchestrated his wooing of the public mind through a loyal cadre of adherents, founded periodicals and wrote popularizations that would spread the authorized word, dominated international congresses of analysis until he felt too frail to attend them and after that through surrogates like his daughter Anna.”
Right from its inception, psychoanalysis was perceived to be science free, and people like John B. Watson of the school of behaviorism, Robert Woodworth of Columbia University, Knight Dunlap, among others, were immensely skeptical and critical of its methodological implications. Dunlap went so far as to say that
“psychoanalysis attempts to creep in wearing the uniform of science, and to strangle it from the inside.”
To those who critiqued psychoanalysis, Freud said, “They can all go to hell,” a statement which seems to suggest that Freud was in the realm of religion and not science. And people who fell from grace from within the movement were “heretics,” a term Freud himself used.
Max Graf, who was guilty of being a heretic, later testified that Freud was establishing his own religion and, as a cult leader, “permitted no deviations from his orthodox teachings.”
Wednesday meetings with Freud and his followers, Graf declared, were like going to church to be indoctrinated into the Freudian cult:
“The gatherings followed a definite ritual. First, one of the members would present a paper…After a social quarter of an hour the discussion would begin. The last and decisive word was always spoken by Freud himself.
“There was the atmosphere of the foundation of a religion in that room. Freud himself was its new prophet who made the heretofore prevailing methods of psychological investigation appear superficial. Freud’s pupils—all inspired and convinced—were his apostles…
“However, after the first dreamy period and the unquestioning faith of the first group of apostles, the time came when the church was founded.”
Graf was far from alone in making these types of observation. Decades later, Richard Webster proclaims that the founder of psychoanalysis was a “messianic cult” leader and psychoanalysis itself is “quintessentially a religion” and definitely “should be treated as such.”
In several of Jung’s letters to Freud, it is clearly indicated that Jung “expressed a desire to transform psychoanalysis into something like a religious movement that would liberate an entire culture with its powerful insights.”
Frank Sulloway, a historian of science and the psychoanalytic movement, notes that psychoanalysis has not only been seen as a religion, but it had a “secular priesthood of soul doctors.”
Both Rodney Stark and William Sims, in their study The Future of Religion, describe psychoanalysis and its members as a cult movement. This cult movement, as Jung saw it, sought to replace Christianity. Many would agree that this is essentially Jewish, and Ernest Jones for example admitted that Freud was consciously aware of his Jewishness in his work, and that part was extremely important to him.
But like many secret societies, such as Freemasonry, psychoanalysis was a “confidential” movement, seeking to establish credentials by failing to be opened about its secret activities. Many critics saw it that way, and Jung in particular was proud of those critics. What was even more interesting was that psychoanalysis did not reveal many of its secret practices:
“It was well known within Freudian circles that several analysts had shared sexual intimacies with their female patients, and such ‘confidential’ information appears regularly as gossip in the letters of Freud, Jung, Ernest Jones, Sandor Ferenczi, Karl Abraham, and others in the inner ring of adepts.
“The history of the psychoanalytic movement is littered with suicides, and this pressure-cooker atmosphere of implicit blackmail may have played a role in some of them.”
Jung himself was “erotically obsessed” with his “sexually preoccupied” Jewish patient, Sabina Spielrein, who could care less about whether Jung had a wife.
For Jung, polygamy released him from the moral bondage inflicted on him by Christianity.
If morality, which to Jung is rooted in Christianity, had to be abandoned, then Jung had to find a replacement. For him, it was the sun:
“The sun is, as Renen remarked, really the only rational representation of God, whether we take the point of view of the barbarians of the other ages or that of the modern physical sciences…The sun is adapted as is nothing else to represent the visible God of this world. That is to say, that driving strength of our own soul, which we call libido.”
Freud declared on the title page of The Interpretation of Dreams the following maxim: “Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo,” which means, “if the gods above are no use to me, then I’ll move all hell.”
These should not be the words of a scientist, but were the words of a man on a mission, and he made allusion to such a mission in his last book—Moses and Monotheism—that Christianity, most specifically the Catholic Church, was his enemy.
Scholars like Morris Raphael Cohen declared that had the book not been written by Freud, its author would immediately have been dismissed “as an opinionated crank who is more interested in his tortuous speculation than in getting at the verifiable facts.”
Moreover, as already suggested, many in the psychiatrist community were expelled or castigated simply because they refused to accept Freud’s dogma as truth. As Jung himself admitted, Freud, sounding like a cult leader, would respond, “If they do not understand, they must be stamped into hell.” Jewish professor Moshe Gresser writes that as
“controversies within the psychoanalytic movement begin to multiply, threatening the movement’s unity, Freud will reach for Jewish images to characterize his own situation.
“As he writes to Pfister in 1910: ‘Building the temple with one hand and with the other wielding weapons against those who would disturb its building—I believe it is a reminiscence from Jewish history.”
Freud himself said, “Nor is it perhaps entirely a matter of chance that the first advocate of psychoanalysis was a Jew.”
Hans Jurgen Eysenck and his wife Sebil B. G. Eysenck once visited a “distinguished American psychologist working at New York psychiatric hospital,” and observed that the psychiatrist privately agreed with Eysenck that Freud’s psychoanalysis was not only unscientific but unhelpful to patients.
But publicly he could not object because he would lose his job. Sebil wrote in the introduction of the book Decline and Fall of the Freudian Empire that
“the main objection to all psychotherapies, and psychoanalysis in particular, was their lack of scientific theory or validation. Therapists relied on case histories and did not even pretend at scientific proof.”
In the end, Freud somewhat conceived the point that the theory simply would not work. In a letter to his friend Wilhelm Fliess, he confessed that his earlier theory simply does not line up:
“‘I no longer believe in my neurotica [the theory of sexual seduction], giving as his reasons his inability to cure his patients with interpretations based on the theory…and the fact that too many respectable fathers (not excluding my own’) would have to be accused of being perverse.”
It was at that point that Freud began to make use of the Oedipal theory, which he saw was acting in his own life:
“A single idea of general value dawned on me. I have found, in my own case too, the phenomena of being in love with my mother and jealous of my father, and I now consider it a universal event in early childhood.”
Once again we see that Freud’s psychoanalysis had nothing to do with science or evidence, but Freud’s rationalization of his own sexual aberrations.
In positing the theory without evidence, Freud was psychoanalyzing himself, but he went one step further: he projected his psychoanalysis upon all mankind, thereby making it “universal.”
Breger writes that Freud perceived the “universality” of this new theory and that it would make Freud “a great scientist”—an “eternal fame” which he dreamed about throughout his career.
With the culmination of the Oedipus complex, Freud eventually “conquered” Rome as a “conquistador” and indeed much of the Western world. “Many of the dreams that Freud used in his self-analysis,” writes Breger, provides some of the bases in Freud’s The Interpretation of Dreams, which came out in 1900.
With the publication of The Interpretation of Dreams, Freud was already on his way to fulfilling his “undying fame,” which again revolves around inflicting vengeance on Christianity.
The fact still remains that Freud’s theories have no scientific basis. Breger, himself a professor emeritus of psychoanalytic studies at California Institute of Technology and Founding President at the Institute of Contemporary Psychoanalysis in Los Angeles, lamented,
“How different things would have been if, instead of a cult-like ‘cause,’ psychoanalysis had really been the science that it claimed to be, a field in which new ideas and methods were examined, tested against observations, and welcomed when they proved fruitful in producing further research and more effective therapy.”
Others of the same stature as Breger agreed. Alan M. Stone was a psychoanalyst and professor of law and medicine at Harvard, and was under the spell of psychoanalysis for over four decades. It was with chagrin that he provided a devastating critique of the edifice of his own profession.
The frightening thing is that one had to either devote himself to Freud as a cult leader, or perish as a psychoanalyst. Ernest Jones, a Freud devotee who later wrote a biography of Freud, felt the same way.
“Jones had grasped the fact that to be a friend of Freud’s meant being a sycophant. It meant opening oneself completely to him, to be willing to pour out all one’s confidences to him. ‘Jones believed that to disagree with Freud (the father) was tantamount to patricide (father murder),’ so that when Sandor Ferenczi disagreed with Freud on the reality of childhood sexual abuse, Jones called him a ‘homicidal maniac.’”
Many who questioned Freud’s theories or were skeptical of them were being labeled as “anti-sexual,” and like many other religions, others “were expelled from the group. Freud was even more vitriolic in his private correspondence, labeling those who disagreed with him as driven by ‘boundless ambition,’ ‘neurotic,’ ‘perverse,’ or ‘crazy.’”
Among those who were excommunicated from the religion were Joseph Breuer, Freud’s first collaborator, Alfred Adler, and Wilhlem Stekel.
“Sensing that more ‘deviations’ were in the offing, the most loyal followers—Ernest Jones, Karl Abraham, and a few others—formed a group called ‘The Committee,’ whose purpose was to protect The Professor and his theories. Jung, who like Adler was working on his own ideas, was the next to be excommunicated, in 1913.”
Other individuals were banished in following years, including Otto Rank, in 1924, and Sandor Ferenczi, in 1932, “in spite of the significant value of their contributions, their deep involvement in support of psychoanalysis for many years, and their close personal ties to Freud.”
Ernest Jones on many occasions believed Freud without question, even when Freud was not telling the whole truth. Freud’s spell on other individuals was like a tyrannical father who is always right and his children just have to obey him, no matter what. Freud called those who followed him no matter what he said his children. Sandor Ferenczi and Kurt Eissler were two of those children.
“‘The thought of a disagreement with Freud was unbearable.’ ‘There were occasions when he [Ferenczi] rebelled against his dependency, but always he returned repentant and submissive.’ The situation was similar for Kurt Eissler, the closest confidant of Anna Freud’s inner circle in the 1960s: ‘What he felt for Freud seemed to border on worship.’”
More importantly, not only is psychoanalysis anti-Christian, but Freud would use it to test his followers in order to see how far they could go.
“Freud used psychoanalysis to sexually humiliate two of his most fervent disciples, Ferenczi and Jones. Freud’s analysis of the women involved in relationships with Ferenczi and Jones resulted in the women leaving the men but remaining on friendly terms with Freud.
“Grosskurth suggests that Freud’s actions were a test of his disciples’ loyalty, and the fact that Jones continued in the movement after this humiliation indicates the extent to which Freud’s followers showed unquestioned obedience to their master.”
Not only that, Freud had to forge his data underlying the tenets of his sexual theories. Eventually, the scientific community bowed down to Freud’s dogma. Yet even when many in the scientific community fail to question Freud’s dogma, it does not mean that the theory has any serious intellectual backbone whatsoever. Darwin was at least honest at various points in his Origin of Species in that he left some room for improvement. He wrote,
“If it could be demonstrated that any complex organ existed, which could not possibly have been formed by numerous, successive, slight modifications, my theory would absolutely break down.”
There have been numerous examples of these complex organs. But Freud left no room whatsoever for genuine and independent scholars to examine his claims. Instead, he argued that he would send those people to hell—if he could—if they dare to even challenge his hypotheses.
From a scientific standpoint, Freud’s sexual theory would not stand up to a sociological test, most particularly with regard to the family pattern over the centuries.
For more than a thousand years, Christianity has condemned incest largely because it produces serious problems, including birth defects and early death. In 1971, a pool of scientific studies proved that case. Incest also produces serious psychological problems.
Freud, as we are beginning to see, was really up to something when he stepped outside the scientific realm to write about sexual liberation and passion (including incest) without restraint, something that is quite common among Jewish revolutionaries.
Peter Gay, an admirer of Freud, declared that Freud had encountered many examples which would have dealt a deathblow to his “interpretations of dreams.” Yet he moved on anyway, despite the fact that he was quite aware of the flaws.
E. Michael Jones argues that
“Psychoanalysis and Illuminism were, in effect the same project—the Illuminist term Seelenanalyse is simply the Germanified term of psychoanalysis or vice versa—with the details changed to suit the sensibilities of a later age, an age which believed that ‘science’ and ‘medicine,’ rather than secret societies, would lead to heaven on earth.
“Both psychoanalysis and Illuminism engaged in what a later critic called ‘Seelenspionage,’ spying on the soul…Psychoanalysis adopted all of the essential characteristics of Illuminist mind control, but Illuminism can just as easily be seen as an early form of psychoanalysis, a project long cherished by the Enlightenment.”
This certainly makes sense, since both Nietzsche and Freud, according to many accounts, made some form of Faustian pact. Jewish scholar David Bakan found this side of Freud very strange, and some scholars tried to explain some of these phenomena away in terms of Freud’s Super-Ego.
But Freud gave enough detail in order to take him seriously. On January 3, 1897, he declared that “I am not afraid I can take on all the devils in hell,” and goes on to declare that “sexuality” would be one of his weapons “from heaven through the world to hell.”
Nietzsche inflicted himself with syphilis in a form of demonic pact. This pact seems to have given him some power—for a short time. On the eve of his fame, Nietzsche wrote that “quite literally, the future of mankind [is] in the palm of my hand.” In another letter, he wrote to musicologist Carl Fuchs that since God was dead, “I shall be ruling the world from now on.”
Nietzsche thought he was going to rule the world because, in his own words, he had crossed “the famous Rubicon,” selling his soul for fame and pleasure. He would later sign some of his letters “Dionysus” or “The Crucified.”
It was only a matter of time before Nietzsche viewed his works as “declarations of war” and himself as a “battlefield” whose works will really and completely be understood by a select few.
Scholars like Richard Wolin speculate that “There may well have been compelling physiological reasons for Neitzsche’s ‘crossing the Rubicon,’ as he insightfully put it.” But Wolin does not address the fact that Nietzsche deliberately contracted syphilis.
Freud’s use of sexuality as a weapon began to take form in the same month, when Freud wrote to his friend Fliess:
“Details have started crowding in, I have found the explanation why witches ‘fly’; their broomstick is apparently the great Lord Penis…I read one day that the gold which the devil gave his victims regularly turned into excrement…
“I am toying with the idea that in the perversions, of which hysteria is the negative, we may have the remnants of a primitive sexual cult, which in the Semitic east may once have been a religion (Moloch, Astarte).”
Knowing full well that he was not dealing with scientific enterprise anymore, Freud told Fliess, “you take the biological, I the psychological.” Freud, in his own words, saw the “outline of Lucifer-Armor coming into sight at the darkest centre.”
And this becomes very interesting as the story begins to unfold. Freud—sounding like Karl Marx who, as we shall see in a future article, made a Faustian pact in order to take the world into perdition—saw himself as a Semite who would eventually conquer Rome for his “Christian” tradition:
“‘My longing for Rome is, by the way, deeply neurotic. It is connected with my high school hero-worship of the Semitic Hannibal, and this year I did not reach Rome any more than he did from Lake Trasimeno.’
“‘Since I have been studying the unconscious, I have become so interesting to myself. A pity that one always keeps one’s mouth shut about the most intimate things: ‘Das beste was Du weisst,/Darfst du den Buben nicht sagen.’
The quote ‘The best of what you know, you dare not tell the boys’ is from Goethe’s Faust, and again we are given a cryptic reference to something Freud would rather not say out loud, lest he lose his authority…
“Freud, in his letter to Fliess, adverts to his desire to conquer Rome, his identification with the Semite Hannibal, and then, with a reference to Goethe, says he can tell us no more, the implication being that he would lose his authority if he did. If we really knew what Freud were up to, then he would have no power over us.
“Psychoanalysis, in other words, can only function as a form of manipulation from behind the scenes. Because of this, it is quintessentially conspiratorial. Conspiracies work only if they are kept secret. If their real intentions were clear, they would be ineffective.
“Freud, Vitz tells us, burned his personal papers, not once but twice, as a way of throwing future investigators off the scent. The only safe conclusion one can draw from Freud’s use of the line from Goethe is that if an idea or source is important to Freud (‘Das Beste was Du weissf ’) Freud will not tell us what it is (‘Darfst Du den Buden doch nicht sagen’).”
There is a striking parallel between Freud’s desire to conquer Rome and the prayer that Jews used to recite in the early centuries in order to put a curse on Christendom.
Historian Ruth Langer declares rabbis such as R. Elzar argued that the curse was also recited as a prayer for the downfall of Rome, which they considered as “the wicked Edom.”
This was also directed toward “the downfall of the Christian governing powers,” a practice that was very popular among Ashkenazi Jews.
To summarize, Freud was projecting sexual liberation, which is consistent with Enlightenment/Masonic ideology. That sexual calculus always hurts its progenitors.
Now some in the West is beginning to see that sexual liberation simply does not work in the end. After numerous studies on this very issue, Kim Wallen, a professor of neuro-endocrinology at Emory University, recently concludes,
“The notion of sexual liberation, where men and women both had equal access to casual sex, assumed a comparable likelihood of that sex being pleasurable. But that part of the playing field isn’t level.”
That conclusion, of course, is not a surprise. Edmund Burke wrote more than two centuries ago that “men of intemperate minds cannot be free. Their passions forge their fetters.”
If Burke is right, then sexual passions without restraint forge sexual fetters, and that leads to multiple diseases and sometimes tragic death and horror—as in the case of Pentheus in Euripides’ The Bacchae, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley who at one point flirted with suicide and magic and ended up producing Frankenstein, Oscar Wilde, Friedrich Nietzsche, and more recently Michel Foucault.
Agave, after she had decapitated her own son under the influence of Dionysus and sexual lust, suddenly came to her rational senses and realized that she had committed murder in the tragic sense. She lamented, “I see…most deadly pain! Oh, woe is me!”
Sexual liberation, as we have seen over and over, always ends up with “woe is me!” Perhaps the dusty-old book was right after all:
“While they promise them liberty, they themselves are the servants of corruption: for of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought in bondage” (2 Peter 2:19).