Ernst Jünger (1895-1998) has been described as “one of the greatest German authors of the twentieth century” ([2]). His political philosophy was shaped by his experiences in the first half of that century, including German military service in both World Wars I and II and the rise and fall of Nazism. His novel, Eumeswil (1980/1993) is as much a philosophical essay informed by those experiences as it is a work of fiction ([4]). Jünger observed social chaos similar to what many countries are experiencing today, and he identified a stable foundation on which the individual can erect and defend a position of integrity against the irrational mob ([1]). To that end, Eumeswil develops the archetype of the “anarch”, a rational egoist whose ultimate loyalty is to himself ([25]) and “whose dispassionate stance allows him to serve any state without being corrupted by it” ([10]).

Ayn Rand’s (1905-1982) philosophical system of “objectivism”, which is also a form of rational egoism, or rational self-interest, was shaped by her experiences in Russia in the first quarter of the twentieth century, including the Russian Revolution and the rise of communism. Objectivism emphasizes “the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute” ([23]: pp. 1170-1171). Objectivism includes a philosophy of ethics and a philosophy of economics and naturally extends into politics, and yet it does not provide a well-developed political philosophy beyond how an ideal government should behave. For example, Rand asserted there can be no compromise on basic principles, moral issues, and matters of knowledge, truth, and rational conviction ([22]). A lack of compromise on subjective “moral issues”, perspective-dependent “truth”, and fallible “rational conviction” would result in constant strife between the objectivist and his real-world government. By contrast, Jünger rejected comprise only on the fundamental principle of man’s right to pursue self-interest. Jünger’s flexibility in dealing with imperfect reality is a far more practical approach. Rand advocated for capitalism, but that is a socioeconomic system largely independent of any particular form of government and may, in fact, work best in the absence of government. Rand’s few sociopolitical positions (with regard to, e.g., taxes and abortion) suggest some form of libertarianism but she and many objectivists have expressly rejected that connection ([24]). In that light, we present Jünger’s notion of the anarch, connect it to Rand’s objectivism, and argue that the anarch provides a suitably practical political approach for the objectivist.

In [7] story, the protagonist, Martin Venator, is almost thirty years old, has a pleasant character and an unobtrusive appearance, and is self-critical of his own irremediable imperfection. He is a night steward, a historian, and a self-professed anarch in the fictional North African city-state of Eumeswil. As a night steward he is able to see much of the current government while being largely unseen by it, and as a historian he is able to understand what he sees in a larger context, which informs his notion of what it means to be an anarch. “Politically, [he is] considered reliable if not especially committed” (p. 9).

“The Condor” is the tyrannical ruler of Eumeswil, having overthrown the prior regime. He is a middle-aged bachelor, an accomplished hunter, and charms everyone with friendly joviality. He is a tyrant and, at the same time, relatively likeable and relatable, i.e., both bad and good, oppressive and useful, like all real persons and governments. Not liking the name “Martin”, the Condor variously refers to Venator as Manuel, Manuelo, and Emanuelo. Venator’s stoic acceptance of his ruler taking such liberty with something as personal as his name reflects his practical flexibility when dealing with others’ actions that do not directly or significantly affect his self-interest.

Vigo, Venator’s history professor and mentor, endorses neither the current nor the prior regimes: “Forms of government, for him, are like thin skins that keep scaling incessantly… He favors certain polities without committing himself to any, especially a current one” (p. 34). Venator recalls a story in which an explorer finds a dead city and, within it, an inscription: “At this table, a thousand kings have dined whose right eyes were blind and a thousand others whose left eyes were blind: They have all passed on and now they populate the graves and catacombs” (p. 25). This reflects the transience of all political power, regardless of its ideology. The historian judges the dead long after their power has faded, “when their triumphs and their victims, their grandeur and their infamy are forgotten” (p. 26). Of course, “[t]he loss of perfection can be felt only if perfection exists”, and nothing is perfect-certainly nothing political-so there is never any real loss of anything important (p. 26). “Monarchies, oligarchies, dictatorships, tyranny as opposed to democracies, republics, the [mob], anarchy. The captain as opposed to the crew; the great leader as opposed to the collective. For insiders, …these antitheses are necessary yet also illusory” (pp. 28-29). Each of opposing ideologies cannot exist without the other, so devoting oneself to the triumph of a particular ideology is devoting oneself to the continued existence of its opposite, and therefore is a never-ending fool’s game. This is reflected in Venator’s desire not to “[get] caught between parties whose quarrels I find cumbersome and often repugnant” (pp. 166-167). Importantly, the less committed an individual is to any political ideology, the less such commitment can interfere with his pursuit of self-interest.

Jünger’s anarch is properly exclusively concerned with pursuing self-interest. The anarch claims for himself and recognizes in others the individual’s inherent and inalienable right to pursue and protect their own interests: “‘Make thyself happy’ is his basic law” ([7]: p. 192), “[k]now thyself” is his second commandment (p. 292). The anarch has a live-and-let-live approach to other individuals as well as to society and government. He tolerates them as necessary or, at least, inevitable evils so long as they do not interfere with his fundamental freedom. As much as possible, the anarch pursues self-interest under whatever rules and within whatever social framework he finds himself. The anarch defies superior forces—the state, society, and even the elements—by using them without submitting to them.

The anarch acts politically only in defense of his fundamental freedom, and if that is not threatened he goes about his life without regard to politics. The anarch does not commit to or squander his energy on causes that have no relevance to his ability to pursue self-interest. The anarch remains unencumbered by political commitments and so remains open and potent under any government. “[The anarch] fights alone, as a free man, and would never dream of sacrificing himself to having one [imperfect government] supplant another and a new regime triumph over the old one” ([7]: p. 136). “The anarch wages his own wars, even when marching in rank and file” (p. 135), and martyrdom is certainly not in his interest. It is better to say that the anarch is free of conviction then that he lacks it. As Venator explained, “The special trait making me an anarch is that I live in a world which I ultimately do not take seriously. This increases my freedom; I serve as a temporary volunteer” (p. 111).

Much of Jünger’s description of the anarch involves juxtaposing him with the anarchist. Broadly, the anarchist is committed to ideas and actions rather than himself, while “[t]he anarch sticks to facts, not ideas”, and always acts with regard to self-interest (p. 113).

[11] summarized Rand’s theory of objectivism as follows. Metaphysically, reality exists as an objective fact independent of our feelings, wishes, hopes, and fears. Epistemologically, reason is our only means of perceiving this reality, our only source of knowledge, our only guide to action, and our basic means of survival. Axiologically, each individual is an end in himself, not a means to the ends of others, and the pursuit of his own rational self-interest and his own happiness is his highest moral purpose. Socioeconomically, laissez-faire capitalism is the ideal system in which men deal with each through voluntary exchange for mutual benefit. Politically, government’s only proper role is to protect individuals’ fundamental rights. According to [15]:

[E]very living human being is an end in himself, not the means to the ends or the welfare of others-and, therefore, that man must live for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself nor sacrificing others to himself. To live for his own sake means that theachievementofhisownhappinessisman’shighestmoralpurpose (p. 30).

In connecting Jünger’s anarch to Rand’s objectivist we must acknowledge and examine Jünger’s negative view of the egoist: “Everything should be my business, but never My business. ‘Fieontheegoist.’… [N]othing is more important to Me than I” ([7]: pp. 327-328, emphasis added). According to Jünger, the difference between the owner of freedom and the egoist is the same as the difference between the anarch and the anarchist: The anarch owns his freedom like property, while the egoist and the anarchist pursue it as a goal. Relatedly, “[t]he owner does not fight with the monarch; he integrates him”, which further illustrates the difference between the anarch and the egoist (pp. 327-328).

Jünger expressly acknowledged [26]einziger, or “only one”. Stirner sometimes substituted eigner, or “owner”, for einziger ([7]), and, as mentioned, Jünger characterized the anarch as the “owner” of their freedom. Like the anarch, “the only one is concealed in every person” (p. 329). Jünger characterized the axioms of the einziger as “[t]hat is not My business” and “nothing is more important than I” (p. 326). In arguing for egoism, [26] noted that we are supposed to sacrifice for so many causes-God, king, country, etc.-but each of these “is occupied only with itself, not with us, only with its good, not with ours” (p. 4). For example, God is an egoist: “He serves no higher person and satisfies only himself. His cause is a purely egoistic cause” (p. 4). According to the pontificators, “Only my cause is never to be my concern. ‘Shame on the egoist who thinks only of himself!’” (p. 3) This is false: “Nothing is more to me than myself!” (p. 6), so rather than serving these egoists, become one and serve yourself (p. 5).

According to [7], “Stirner does not deal with ideas, especially those of universal happiness. He looks for the source of happiness, of power, property, divinity, within himself; he does not wish to serve anything” (p. 331). Further,

[t]he owner does not fight for power, he recognizes it as his own, his property. He owns up to it, appropriates it, makes it his own. This process can be nonviolent… The owner does not fight with the monarch; he integrates him (p. 327).

The owner has rights over life and death: “He would kill and die not like the soldier for king and country, not like the anarchist for an idea, not like the martyr for a faith, but [, like the anarch,] only if his own cause demanded it” (p. 334).

In that light, we believe Jünger’s general rejection of simple egoism is based on his understanding it as idea- and action-oriented and antigovernment, and therefore his rejection does not extend to rational egoism which is fact-oriented, practical, and accepting of a proper role for government. Jünger’s general rejection of egoism is couched in a larger discussion of fighting against authority rather than using it or, at least, ignoring it. The objectivist would find no advantage in openly challenging authority unless, as with the anarch, it was truly necessary to defend his ability to pursue self-interest. Thus, we believe that Jünger’s general rejection of egoism does not extend to rational egoism, and, in fact, the anarch clearly is a rational egoist.

We should also acknowledge and examine Jünger’s position on moralism: “Attend to your own affairs; this is the only moral law” ([7]: p. 331). “[The anarch] has his ethos, but not morals. He recognizes lawfulness, but not law; he despises rules” (p. 209). The anarch is impartial and does not make unnecessary value judgments that would lead him astray from pursuing self-interest. The anarch is “without moralisms or prejudices” because they do not advance self-interest (p. 169).

[19] expressly called for making moral judgments, and, as mentioned, not compromising on “moral issues”, and so this could be seen as a significant distinction between the two approaches, but we think Jünger’s anarch is both more faithful to the ideal of rational egoism and more practical for everyday life. We also fail to see how moralism or moralizing coheres with Rand’s larger theme of individualism and selfishness. In fairness, [19] rejected both indiscriminate tolerance and indiscriminate condemnation as equal failures to fulfill the responsibility of making moral judgments. Nevertheless, we fail to see how morally judging others and refusing to compromise on moral issues further self-interest. We believe that, like the anarch, the real-world objectivist generally should be opposed to both moralism and moralizing and concerned only with what affects his ability to pursue self-interest. Having said that, it is not our position that anarchism and objectivism are identical in every respect, only that the former follows a more well-developed political philosophy that is suitable for use by the latter.

Relatedly, we note [13] notion of the “sanction of the victim”, which, in the present context, can be characterized as the willingness of good people to accept their own subjugation and thereby empower evil, oppressive government. According to Rand, evil is essentially impotent and survives only by the acceptance of the good, and the solution is to withdraw that consent and reject one’s own victimization. Superficially, it may seem that the anarch’s willingness to accept and work within imperfect government fits this notion. However, as we have argued, no government is perfect-they are all both good and evil, oppressive and useful-and the endless search for perfect government-railing against every perceived “evil,” however slight or irrelevant-is the folly of the anarchist, not the pursuit of the rational egoist. The anarch recognizes one governmental evil, which is undue interference with the fundamental right to pursue self-interest, and never sanctions that.

Both Jünger and Rand developed similar, though certainly not identical, versions of rational egoism based, at least in part, on their early life experiences under oppressive authoritarian regimes. While Rand provided a larger body of work regarding the ethics and economic philosophies of objectivism, she provided relatively little practical guidance regarding the political philosophy. Like Jünger, [15] recognized the general usefulness of government and society in promoting the individual’s self-interest in terms of life, liberty, property, and pursuit of happiness. The few sociopolitical positions Rand espoused suggest some form of libertarianism, but that is not clear and, in any event, she did not provide sufficient practical details to guide everyday relations with real and, therefore, imperfect government.

Jünger’s anarch regards some form of imperfect government as inevitable and endurable, and even sees certain aspects of government and society (e.g., healthcare) as useful or even necessary to the individual’s pursuit of self-interest. For the anarch, it is not in the individual’s self-interest to engage with the government, whether to support it or to change it. The anarch is not anti-authoritarian and does not reject all authority at all costs, but rather recognizes its usefulness and reserves the right to examine it, but he ultimately does not really believe in it ([7]). Government is generally irrelevant to him, so he does not waste his time or energy on it. Regardless of how he may feel about particular policies, so long as the policies do not unduly interfere with his ability to pursue self-interest, he is indifferent to them. He is a political pragmatist, switching uniforms as needed to avoid notice: “If his milieu is water, he will move his fins; if it is air, he will spread his wings” (p. 280). He is neither for nor against the government, he merely recognizes it, like the weather, adjusts accordingly and unobtrusively goes about his business. He retains his freedom for himself, and however good or bad the regime may be he does not sacrifice his freedom to it. According to Jünger:

Any man who swears allegiance to a political change is a fool, a [porter] for services that are not his business. The most rudimentary step toward freedom is to free oneself from all that. Basically each person senses it, and yet he keeps voting (p. 340).

No government is perfect; fortunately, no government lasts very long. “[T]he world-state both culminates and disintegrates overnight. The leviathan’s limits are not so much spatial as temporal” ([7]: p. 85). So, it makes no difference whatsoever to the anarch whether the country is ruled by tyrants or demagogues. In fact, distinguishing tyrant, despot, and demagogue can be difficult: “If the [tyrant] is overthrown by the [demagogue], little will change… Only the style will differ” (p. 185). For the anarch, little, if anything, is changed by the overthrow of one system for another, because “[the anarch] carries freedom inside [himself]… He does not pass through the regimes, they pass through him, barely leaving a trace” ([6]: p. 38). Regimes are as transient as the placards that refer to them-they come and go, but the wall they are hung on endures. Of course,

[i]f [the anarch] remains free of being ruled, whether by sovereigns or by society, this does not mean that he refuses to serve in any way. In general, he serves no worse than anyone else, and sometimes even better… He only holds back from the pledge, the sacrifice, the ultimate devotion ([7]: p. 149).

The anarch, like the objectivist, renounces any bond or limitation on his fundamental freedom and rejects governmental and social compulsion as a basis for his actions. For example, the anarch rejects compulsory schooling, military conscription, and obligatory vaccination and insurance ([7]). However, to be clear, itistheexternalcompulsion, nottheactitself, towhichheobjects. The anarch does not refrain from acting in his self-interest merely to spite government or society, so his voluntary actions will often coincide with governmental or social requirements. For example, it is in his self-interest to be educated and to be healthy, and so he voluntarily participates in schooling and vaccination for that reason.

Thus, the anarch accepts governmental authority to the extent it facilitates his pursuit of self-interest by freeing him from certain mundane concerns, reserves the right to examine it to ensure that it continues to facilitate that pursuit, but does not commit himself to any particular authority because any of various forms of authority can serve the same purpose with regard to his pursuit of self-interest. In this regard, the anarch exists day-to-day as a so-called “gray man”, or, as [8] put it, “a gray wolf hiding in the gray flock”, avoiding attention and following the law so long as he is left sufficiently alone and actively avoiding conflict unless and until he is left with no other choice (p. 18). In that light, we believe Jünger’s more developed political philosophy provides a suitably practical approach for Rand’s objectivist with regard to his general, day-to-day relationship with an actual, imperfect, often overreaching but also often useful government.

The authors are grateful to Ranger Shipley-Williams for his kindness, patient support, and thoughtful contributions.