One has met some monarchs that were good, some very good, others weak or bad. Some enjoyed honors and the love of their people to the end of their lives, others were beheaded. Therefore, not all of the monarchs were good. Monarchy itself, however, has always been good.

So says the early 20th century Romanian politician, Corneliu Zelea Codreanu in his autobiography, For my Legionaries, often quoted fondly by many on the pro-monarchist Right. However, Codreanu’s views on monarchy diverged from the typical sentiment in the Kingdom of Romania at the time. During this period, the country oscillated between what was essentially a Constitutional Monarchy, with the elected parliament which featured a series of liberal politicians controlling the government, and an absolute ‘Royal Dictatorship’ declared by King Carol II. The King had wormed his way back into power after having been disgraced and renouncing the title, certainly something which influenced the entire Romanian right’s views on how the royal institution functioned.

Humble in his origins, Codreanu railed against what he saw as the glaring deficiencies of elected government. He made the case that the multitudes had trouble understanding even the most basic laws that allowed people to flourish and survive, and were prone to inefficiencies and poor-judgment in their own lives, so how were the multitudes to be trusted in selecting leaders who would need to understand the greatest laws, those of nature? It was an exercise in counter-specialization, the idea that anyone could lead. “For making bread, shoes, ploughs, farming, running a streetcar, one must be specialized, is there no need for specialization when it comes to the most demanding leadership, that of a nation?” he scorned.

Seeing that the notion of an elite was not a conspiratorial enemy of the people, but rather an expression of a meritocracy in ability to govern, it was deduced that the country’s political failings were primarily due to its democratization. Incapable of governing themselves for the betterment of the nation (and he had an interesting concept of nation we’ll get to in a moment), the people needed a true elite, men with certain aptitudes and abilities. Contra this, democracy often raised the worst candidates to positions of power and elite status, charlatans lacking scruples, the immoral, and the greedy:

When a state is led by a so-called “elite” made up of the worst, most corrupt, most unhealthy it has, is it not permitted a person to ask why the state is headed for ruin? Here then is the cause of all other evils.. immorality, corruption and lust throughout the country; thievery and spoliation in the state’s wealth; bloody exploitation of the people; poverty and misery in its heights; lack of the sense of duty in all functions; disorder and disorganization in the state; the invasion from all directions of foreigners with money, as coming to buy bankrupt stores whose wares are being sold for a pittance. The country is auctioned off.

It was Codreanu’s belief that rather than play by democracy’s rules, the natural elite had fled to any bastions of virtue they could find, and he saw the qualities of Romania’s past great heroes in his Legionaries, those who came out of the priesthood, industry, agriculture, the military, and notably dissidents from the nation’s liberal universities. From this stock, he felt that Romania could cultivate a new political class. While he favored letting the country be consulted by the elite, a measure to avoid disconnection with what truly mattered, he was resolutely against the public having a choice of leaders. Furthermore, the elite when designated, would designate their successors for the future, based upon the loyalty of the elite itself to the nation. The nation constituted all those Romanians presently alive, all of those who lay dead in its soil, and all those as yet unborn.

Things then take an interesting turn, as Codreanu rejects the principle of heredity which he sees as a reason for the downfall of the previous elite and the eventual rise of democracy. The Romanian elite and royalty on this view had condemned themselves via a long system of privileges through birth rather than merit which led to a lack of adequate culling of degenerate figures from the halls of power. He sums up the simplified duties of a good ruling class thusly:

[T]he role of an elite is: a) To lead a nation according to the life laws of a people. b) To leave behind an inheriting elite based not on the principle of heredity but on that of selection, because only an elite knows life’s laws and can judge to what extent people conform by aptitudes and knowledge to these laws. it is like a gardener who works his garden and sees to it that before he dies he has an inheritor, a  replacement, for he alone can say who among those working with him is best to take his place and continue his work.

There is certainly grounds for critique here. Codreanu’s vision takes a relentlessly optimistic view of the nature of man, even good men, elite men. The principle of heredity arises because of an organic desire to benefit our own children. This has drawbacks in terms of leadership, but it is unavoidable and such negative consequences can perhaps be remedied with social technology. I encourage everyone to re-read or read for the first time, this article by David Grant which provides an illustrious monarchical history, and some recommendations that are incredibly helpful.

Codreanu indicated that he wanted a much smaller gulf between the monarch and country’s elites, something Grant proposes, that the government imitate in some ways the feudal system of the High Middle Ages, which limits the actual authority of the king, while not turning him into a constitutional puppet. Theoretical and actual authority are not the same thing. You can in effect have an absolute monarch whose sphere of authority is not very large in practical terms because regional and other interests operate autonomously at the micro-level. The king remains the ruler of the nation with the ability to raise armies or taxes from the land under his control, but in terms of political rule, most of this is handled by the aristocracy. Grant also states the monarch should be of the same type as the elite, and personally, I think it may be best if the monarch is neither warrior, nor priest. Warriors don’t necessarily make the best decision-makers during peacetime, and I think Evola’s critique of a ruling priestly caste is more sound than Guénon’s defense of the concept. Power in the hands of bureaucrats may not sound pleasant, but it has its merits.

With all this said, it would be a mistake to dismiss Codreanu’s proposed solution to the problems of a hereditary elite out of hand. Perhaps there is even some hidden social technology in his proposal. Suppose a cast-iron rule by which the monarch was to be designated from the elite, but could not be a biological relative. The king’s children would retain benefits, i.e.—they themselves would be members of the aristocracy, just not the monarchy. Hemmed in by a caste distinction, people would naturally rise or fall to the top or bottom of their respective castes by a process of non-biological designation. The unworthy remain pencil-pushers. To fend off any kind of internal revolt, the monarch would need the support of both the warrior and priestly castes. It would therefore be in his interest to keep both happy.

Now, this is highly speculative. There’s no telling how it might function in practice, especially alongside my favored occupational inheritance system for the lower classes (children inherit the trades of their parents), but there is something to be said about a meritocratic autocracy by appointment. It’s just a question of squaring pros and cons. I don’t think believing in caste undermines meritocracy, it simply compartmentalizes it, something Codreanu unfortunately didn’t have time to formulate.

On this day in 1938, along with thirteen of his fellow imprisoned Legionaries, Codreanu was murdered by the military police during a prison transfer. This was carried out under the orders of the usurper king and his political allies fearful that the Legion was about to seize the throne. The callous and brutal nature of this act helped turn popular sentiment against the government, and was immortalized as the ‘Night of the Vampires,’ the night Romania lost its most uncompromisingly defiant voice against the rape and desolation of its people. It would be hard to find anyone in history who gave so much for the crusade against Modernism. And yet, his work continues.