This piece is a sequel of sorts to the history paper I posted last week. It too takes up the subject of Jung and Nazis, but does so primarily through Jung's writings from the era. Jung basically bookended World War II with a pair of essays on society, Wotan and After the Catastrophe. This paper is somewhat of a comparison of the two, an attempt to show how Jung's ideas were influenced by the currents of the time... for the worse, yes, but also, I think, for the better.
Jung is not often thought of as a social psychologist due to his commitment to his own brand of phenomenology.1 He is sometimes described as subscribing to panpsychism.2 But despite his introverted bias, Jung's sensitivity to society became more pronounced in his writings the older he became. One can get a good sense of how Jung's views on this subject developed longitudinally by looking at two pieces that feature prominently in Civilization in Transition, the tenth volume of his Collected Works. From them we can appreciate how Jung's outlook evolved over time, and how both the content and style of his writings changed depending on the ecology of his day.
A Living God
In 1936 Jung publishes his essay Wotan. In the piece he comments on the rise of National Socialism, the power of the German Faith Movement, and his belief that the German people have been possessed by the archetype of the old German God, Wotan.3 While Jung is mildly critical of Hitler in the essay- he never flatly condemns the Nazis until 1946-4 he seems cautiously optimistic about the prospects of this archetypal hold on Germany, saying:
It is above all the Germans who have an opportunity, perhaps unique in history, to look into their own hearts and to lean what those perils of the soul were from which Christianity tries to rescue mankind. Germany is a land of spiritual catastrophes where nature never makes more than a pretense of peace wilt world-ruling reason. The disturber of the peace is a wind that blows into Europe from Asia's vastness, sweeping in on a wide front from Thrace to the Baltic, scattering the nations before it like dry leaves, or inspiring thoughts that shake the world to it! foundations. It is an elemental Dionysus breaking into the Apollonian order. The rouser of this tempest is named Wotan, and we can learn a good deal about him from the political con· fusion and spiritual upheaval he has caused throughout history.5
Grossman notes how in the paper Jung seems to encourage the fanaticism and “irrationality” of the so-called German Faith Movement.6 Indeed, Jung instructs those worshiping Wotan to “throw aside their scruples” and chides those for whom Wotan worship is “a mere pretence. There are people in the German Faith Movement who are intelligent enough not only to believe but to know that the god of the Germans is Wotan and not the Christian God.” Jung is asking those of the German Faith to discard Christianity and embrace their primordial heritage.7
Jung is eager to demonstrate the mythological aspects of Wotan. He explains some of the mythos behind the German God, drawing heavily on a monograph written by Martin Ninck:
The Romans identified Wotan with Mercury, but his character does not really correspond to any Roman or Greek god, although there are certain resemblances. He is a wanderer like Mercury, for instance, rules over the dead like Pluto and Kronos, and is connected Dionysus by his emotional frenzy, particularly in its mantic aspect. It is surprising that Ninck does not mention Hermes, the god of revelation, who as pneuma and nous is associated with the wind. He would be the connecting link with the Christian pneuma and the miracle of Pentecost. As Poimandres (the shepherd of men) Hermes is an Ergreifer like Wotan. Ninck rightly points out that Dionysus and the other Greek gods always remained under the supreme authority of Zeus, which indicates a fundamental difference between the Greek and the Germanic temperament.8
It is interesting here that Jung picks up on comparisons of Wotan to mythical figures that he himself covers elsewhere, such as the spirit Mercurius. The slippery figure of Mercurius, in Jung's interpretation, is a classic example of the duality of the archetype: he is both creator and destroyer, trickster and wise man, god and devil.9. More importantly, Jung implicitly identifies three aspects of Wotan that match three aspects of the archetype that Jung describes in his paper on The Psychology of the Child Archetype. In Child Archetype Jung describes the archetype of the child having qualities of the past, a function in the present, and a potential for the future.10 Jung links Wotan with the Gods of the past. He describes its function as a national catalyst in the present. And towards the end of the article he speculates about Wotan's potential for the future. Therefore, Jung is not just making amplifications between Wotan and other mythical icons. Rather, he is implicitly but nevertheless systematically proofing the archetypal nature of Wotan. Thus, to the reader well-versed in Jung's work, it is evident that, by acknowledging the similarities of Wotan and other Gods, and of greater import by exploring the three archetypal aspects of Wotan, Jung is bringing the German condition of the day not just into the pantheon of myth, but into the archetypal as well. He writes:
Wotan is a restless wanderer who creates unrest and stirs up strife, now here, now there, and works magic. He was soon changed by Christianity into the devil, and only lived on in fading local traditions as a ghostly hunter who was seen with his retinue, flickering like a will o' the wisp through the stormy night. In the Middle Ages the role of the restless wanderer was taken over by Ahasuerus, the Wandering Jew, which is not a Jewish but a Christian legend. The motif of the wanderer who has not accepted Christ was projected on the Jews, in the same way as we always rediscover our unconscious psychic contents in other people. At any rate the coincidence of anti-Semitism with the reawakening of Wotan is a psychological subtlety that may perhaps be worth mentioning.11
As Jung seems to suggest here with his allusion to anti-Semitism in Nazi Germany, he believes “the heretical suggestion that the unfathomable depths of Wotan's character explain more of National Socialism than” what he refers to as the reasonable factors, “economic, political, and psychological factors,” put together. As Jung explains, “there is no doubt that each of these factors explains an important aspect of what is going on in Germany, but Wotan explains yet more. He is particularly enlightening in regard to a general phenomenon which is so strange to anybody not a German that it remains incomprehensible even after the deepest reflection.”12 Elsewhere, Jung links the mythology of Wotan and the revolution in Germany with the mass-mindedness of Dionysus. He explains:
The German youths who celebrated the solstice with sheep- sacrifices were not the first to hear a rustling in the primeval forest of the unconscious. They were anticipated by Nietzsche, Schuler, Stefan George, and Ludwig Klages[...] The literary tradition of the Rhineland and the country south of the Main has a classical stamp that cannot easily be got rid of; every interpretation of intoxication and exuberance is apt to be taken back to classical models, to Dionysus, to the puer aeternus and the cosmogonic Eros[...] No doubt it sounds better to academic ears to interpret these things as Dionysus, but Wotan might be a more correct interpretation. He is the god of storm and frenzy, the unleasher of passions and the lust of battle; moreover he is a superlative magician and artist in illusion who is versed in all secrets of an occult nature.13
Jung hints that Nietzsche's own description of Wotan was archetypal. According to Jung, Nietzsche “had no knowledge of Germanic literature; he discovered the 'cultural Philistine'; and the announcement that "God is dead" led to Zarathustra's meeting with an unknown god in unexpected form...” Jung wonders if it was the “classic philologist” in Nietzsche, or perhaps his meeting with Wagner, that caused him to refer to this unknown God as Dionysus instead of Wotan.14
For Jung, to downplay what was going on in Germany as anything less than an archetypal phenomenon is simply not enough:
For the sake of better understanding and to avoid prejudice, we could of course dispense with the name "Wotan" and speak instead of the furor teutonicus. But we should only be saying the same thing and not as well, for the furor in this case is a mere psychologizing of Wotan and tells us no more than that the Germans are in a state of "fury." We thus lose sight of the most peculiar feature of this whole phenomenon, namely, the dramatic aspect of the Ergreifer and the Ergriffener. The impressive thing about the German phenomenon is that one man, who is obviously "possessed," has infected a whole nation to such an extent that everything is set in motion and has started rolling on its course towards perdition.15
The piece, as it appears in volume ten of Jung's Collected Works, ends with a stanza quoted from the Voluspo that contains foreboding overtones, which seems to indicate that Jung foresaw Nazi Germany's doom. Jung himself promotes this idea in 1946, saying that “the quotation from the Voluspo with which I ended the article I wrote at that time, about Wotan "murmuring with Mimir's head," pointed prophetically to the nature of the coming apocalyptic events. The myth has been fulfilled, and the greater part of Europe lies in ruins.”16
This passage certainly gives the illusion that the Jung's purpose with the Wotan paper was to forecast Armageddon via the Germans. However, as Grossman tells us:
After the Second World War, Jung claimed to have ended the 1936 essay with a quote from the Voluspo (poetic Edda) that predicted the coming catastrophe[...] This was a distortion of the facts. The original text closed with the statement, “Then at last we shall know what Wotan is saying when he murmurs with Mimir's head”. Coming as it did immediately after a sentence in which Wotan was referred to as a recular pour mieux sauter, it was evident that Jung originally intended to conclude on a positive note. The supplementary, explanatory quotation from the Voluspo which seemed to predict dire events was only added after World War II. Unfortunately the reader has not been notified of this change, not even in the Collected Works edition.17
Thus, the original conclusion in paragraph 399 perhaps shows what Jung's original hopes about what was occurring in Germany really were:
If we apply our admittedly peculiar point of view consistently, we are driven to conclude that Wotan must, in time, reveal not only the restless, violent, stormy side of his character, but also his ecstatic and man tic qualities-a very different aspect of his nature. If this conclusion is correct, National Socialism would not be the last word. Things must be concealed in the background which we cannot imagine at present, but we may expect them to appear in the course of the next few years or decades. Wotan's reawakening is a stepping back into the past; the stream was dammed up and has broken into its old channel. But the obstruction will not last for ever; it is rather a reculer pour mieux sauter) and the water will overleap the obstacle. Then at last we shall know what Wotan is saying when he "murmurs with Mimir's head."18
Jung's essay on Wotan was meant to be an archetypal exploration of the volatile events in Germany during the 1930s. As we have seen, Jung draws upon mythological evidence to prove the primordial nature of the Wotan character. That Wotan shares characteristics with other mythical characters seems to amplify his archetypal nature. Jung further expands upon this strand when he draws upon events in the real-world to establish the archetypal nature of Wotan. This act of culling the archetypal from myth in order to connect it to reality is similar to what Jung does in other works, such as The Spirit Mercurius, The Psychological Aspects of the Kore, and even Jung's early case studies of archetypal experiences as seen in part one of Symbols of Transformation.192021 What is unique about the Wotan paper and indeed Nazi Germany for Carl Jung was that it was a contemporary, living phenomenon that would allow him to see the power of an archetype unfold on a mass scale in real time. This is why he tells us the Germans have a “unique opportunity” to face the collective depths, and perhaps why he also sympathizes with their condition in the years that led to catastrophe:
This is a tragic experience and no disgrace. It has always been terrible to fall into the hands of a living god. Yahweh was no exception to this rule, and the Philistines, Edomites, Amorites, and the rest, who were outside the Yahweh experience, must certainly have found it exceedingly disagreeable. The Semitic experience of Allah was for a long time an extremely painful affair for the whole of Christendom. We who stand outside judge the Germans far too much as if they were responsible agents, but perhaps it would be nearer the truth to regard them also as victims.22
Hysteria
Jung changes his tune after the war and joins the chorus of those condemning Germany for the bloodbath. His post-war analysis, titled After the Catastrophe, is situated directly after the Wotan essay in volume ten of the Collected Works. Jung says of the Germans that they cannot “can rid [themselves] of [their] collective guilt by protesting that [they] did not know. In that way [they] merely [compound their] collective guilt by the sin of unconsciousness.”23
Gone is the careful optimism of the article written a decade prior. Instead After the Catastrophe is ridden with the subject of guilt. Concerning Germany:
If the German intends to live on good terms with Europe, he must be conscious that in the eyes of Europeans he is a guilty man. As a German, he has betrayed European civilization and all its values; he has brought shame and disgrace on his European family, so that one must blush to hear oneself called a European; he has fallen on his European brethren like a beast of prey, and tortured and murdered them. The German can hardly expect other Europeans to resort to such niceties as to inquire at every step whether the criminal's name was Muller or Meier. Neither will he be deemed worthy of being treated as a gentleman until the contrary has been proved. Unfortunately, for twelve long years it has been demonstrated with the utmost clarity that the official German was no gentleman.24
Furthermore, in the next passage:
If a German is prepared to acknowledge his moral inferiority as collective guilt before the whole world, without attempting to minimize it or explain it away with flimsy arguments, then he will stand a reasonable chance, after a time, of being taken for a more or less decent man, and will thus be absolved of his collective guilt at any rate in the eyes of individuals.25
And later, Jung no longer explains the mass-mindedness of the Germans through possession of a living god named Wotan. He instead makes a less fantastic diagnosis:
Although we may be able to understand why the Germans were misled in the first place, the almost total absence of any reaction is quite incomprehensible. Were there not army commanders who could have ordered their troops to do anything they pleased? Why then was the reaction totally lacking? I can only explain this as the outcome of a peculiar state of mind, a passing or chronic disposition which, in an individual, we call hysteria.26
From these excerpts it appears Jung has absolved a 'living god' of the blame for the Second World War and has instead placed it squarely on the shoulders of the German people. However, Jung does remain consistent in his phenomenological attitude in the sense that the kind of guilt he speaks of here is not about the actual whodunit, but rather something more psychological and collective:
The psychological use of the word "guilt" should not be confused with guilt in the legal or moral sense. Psychologically, it connotes the irrational presence of a subjective feeling (or conviction) of guilt, or an objective imputation of, or imputed share in, guilt. As an example of the latter, suppose a man belongs to a family which has the misfortune to be disgraced because one of its members has committed a crime. It is clear that he cannot be held responsible, either legally or morally. Yet the atmosphere of guilt makes itself felt in many ways.27
And:
Psychological collective guilt is a tragic fate. It hits everybody, just and unjust alike, everybody who was anywhere near the place where the terrible thing happened. Naturally no reasonable and conscientious person will lightly turn collective into individual guilt by holding the individual responsible without giving him a hearing. He will know enough to distinguish between the individually guilty and the merely collectively guilty.28
So Jung still is taking into account a collective level of the psyche. That said, there is no hope here about the opportunity of the masses to explore the depths of the primeval, as seen in the previous work. Instead Jung continues by asking: “But how many people are either reasonable or conscientious, and how many take the trouble to become so? I am not very optimistic in this respect.”29
So has Jung forgotten Wotan? Whereas Wotan seems to celebrate the Germans' brazen exploration of the irrational, in Catastrophe Jung chides the German people for leaving their problems up to a “megalomaniac psychopath” who “proclaimed, 'I take over the responsibility!'” He continues:
Any man who still possesses the instinct of self-preservation knows perfectly well that only a swindler would offer to relieve him of responsibility, for surely no one in his senses would dream of taking responsibility for the existence of another.30
Despite his scolding tones here, Jung in fact has not forgotten Wotan, but rather has blamed the Germans for letting its potential slip through their fingers:
Here again the Germans had a priceless opportunity for self-knowledge-and let it slip. And what could they not have learned from the suet-and-syrup of Wagner! Nevertheless, with the calamitous founding of the Reich the devil stole a march on the Germans, dangling before them the tempting bait of power, aggrandizement, national arrogance. Thus they were led to imitate their prophets and to take their words literally, but not to understand them. And so it was that the Germans allowed themselves to be deluded by these disastrous fantasies and succumbed to the age-old temptations.31
Therefore there is not necessarily a contradiction between the two essays on the subject of whether or not Germany had become archetypally possessed. Even Jung's diagnosis of social hysteria instead of possession by the god Wotan can be seen as the same thing, albeit described in less romantic words and in a considerably cooler tenor (“the first outbreak of epidemic insanity”32). Certainly, the fact that Wotan was written in the mid thirties, when Jung was walking a delicate political tightrope while still harboring some hopes about the outcome of Nazi Germany, whereas After the Catastrophe was Jung's first written article following the war, and on some level may have been damage control for his reputation in the sense it was his first outright decry of Hitler, must be considered. Instead, perhaps what has changed from before and after the Second World War is how Jung sees society gain access to the collective psyche. Perhaps in Jung's account, the bipolarity of the Wotan archetype was lost when the Germans took the paranoid words of their high command to heart, and became hysterical. This idea seems to match with what Jung says here:
The essence of hysteria is a systematic dissociation, a loosening of the opposites which normally are held firmly together. It may even go to the length of a splitting of the personality, a condition in which quite literally one hand no longer knows what the other is doing. As a rule there is amazing ignorance of the shadow; the hysteric is only aware of his good motives, and when the bad ones can no longer be denied he becomes the unscrupulous Superman and Herrenmensch who fancies he is ennobled by the magnitude of his aim.33
While the essay focuses primarily on the guilt of the Germans, Jung does not exclude the rest of Europe from his analysis. Just as Germany must account for itself before Europe, he states, so too must “Europe must account for herself before the world.”34 Further distinguishing itself from the romanticism and mythos of Wotan, Catastrophe deals not just with guilt, but also with evil:
The sensation aroused by a crime, the passionate interest in tracking down the criminal, the eagerness with which the court proceedings are followed, and so on, all go to prove the exciting effect which the crime has on everybody who is not abnormally dull or apathetic. Everybody joins in, feels the crime in his own being, tries to understand and explain it. Something is set aflame by that great fire of evil that flared up in the crime[...] It is a fact that cannot be denied: the wickedness of others becomes our own wickedness because it kindles something evil in our own hearts. The murder has been suffered by everyone, and everyone has committed it; lured by the irresistible fascination of evil, we have all made this collective psychic murder possible; and the closer we were to it and the better we could see, the greater our guilt. In this way we are unavoidably drawn into the uncleanness of evil, no matter what our conscious attitude may be. No one can escape this, for we are all so much a part of the human community that every crime calls forth a secret satisfaction in some corner of the fickle human heart.35
In reading Wotan it is not hard to see why one might think Jung himself was caught up in the furor going on in Germany. That Jung was in some way complicit with Nazism is certainly a sore question for Jungians looking back at the era.36 Is After the Catastrophe in some way an admission of guilt on Jung's part? He says:
While I was working on this article I noticed how churned up one still is in one's own psyche, and how difficult it is to reach anything approaching a moderate and relatively calm point of view in the midst of one's emotions. No doubt we should be cold-blooded and superior; but we are, on the whole, much more deeply involved in the recent events in Germany than we like to admit[..] Neither the doctor nor the psychologist can afford to be only cold-blooded-quite apart from the fact that they would find it impossible[..] That being so[...] I must confess that no article has ever given me so much trouble, from a moral as well as a human point of view. I had not realized how much I myself was affected [emphasis mine]. There are others, I am sure, who will share this feeling with me. This inner identity or participation mystique with events in Germany has caused me to experience afresh how painfully wide is the scope of the psychological concept of collective guilt. So when I approach this problem it is certainly not with any feelings of cold-blooded superiority, but rather with an avowed sense of inferiority.37
In 1936 Jung certainly writes about Wotan as if he almost wished Wotan was a true living god and not just a psychological fiction. Jung's introverted bias towards the reality of archetypes is seen in many of his writings on mythology. Jung himself often went on record about placing psychological reality above all else. In the introduction to his essay on Flying Saucers he states that “as a psychologist, I am not qualified to contribute anything useful to the question of the physical reality of UFOs. I can concern myself only with their undoubted psychic aspect...”38 Perhaps the zealousness with which Jung riffs on about Wotan is an acute example of this principle. But does privileging the archetypal figure as such break one of Jung's oldest covenants concerning archetypes? Does that not leave him vulnerable as such to the mana-personality, to inflation?39 Is Jung not taking his archetypal images too literally, instead of trying to understand them, thus succumbing to the same crime he accuses Germany of?
The aforementioned old covenant concerning archetypes can be found in some of Jung's earliest writings about them, before the name archetype was ever even applied, in his 1913 book Symbols of Transformation of the Libido. In the book he describes the story of a Catholic priest who troubled over the story of Judas. The priest asks God whether Judas was truly a traitor or a actually a servant in the grand scheme. During prayer God answers the priest and tells him that Judas was indeed a true servant. The next morning the priest went to the archbishop to declare that he had decided to spread God's word throughout the world. During his travels he converted to a different sect of Christianity. Jung writes:
Now we understand his Judas fantasy: he was the Judas who betrayed his Lord. Therefore he had first of all to assure himself of God's mercy in order to play the role of Judas undisturbed[...] Oegger's case throws light on the mechanism of fantasies in general. The conscious fantasy may be woven of mythological or any other material; it should not be taken literally, but must be interpreted according to its meaning. If it is taken too literally it remains unintelligible, and makes one despair of the meaning and purpose of the psychic function. But the case of the Abbe Oegger shows that his doubts and his hopes are only apparently concerned with the historical person of Judas, but in reality revolve round his own personality, which was seeking a way to freedom through the solution of the Judas problem.40
Thus the archetypal image is a tool, a way to circumnavigate a situation too difficult or painful to otherwise comprehend. But by becoming so viscerally involved with the volatile events in Gemany, perhaps Jung in fact identified with the collective and had a moment of possession by the mana-personality. For as he writes:
Hence the "magician" could take possession of the ego only because the ego dreamed of victory over[...] That dream was an encroachment, and every encroachment of the ego is followed by an encroachment from the unconscious...41
Interestingly though, the romantic zeal with which Jung writes with in Wotan when describing archetypes possessing an entire nation is utterly absent in Catastrophe. Instead we are given cold, clinical detachment. Wotan becomes hysteria. Nationalism becomes an epidemic. The same principles are at work, but suddenly Jung is no longer writing of them with a bias towards their absolute reality. It is as if he is beginning to approach the topic of society from a way that does not privilege the reality of the archetypes first and foremost. Perhaps he does this to avoid the dangers of a slippery slope he was already far too acquainted with.
We have seen that After the Catastrophe paints a far bleaker picture than Wotan ever came close to. Jung seems disappointed with the Germans, not just for their war crimes, but for the fact they forfeited the chance of tapping into a great collective reservoir. Jung no longer writes about about the archetypal effects on the nation in a romantic manner; instead he only refers to archetypes in the most clinical means possible, and instead deploys pathological symptoms to describe the mass-mindedness of the German people. By the end of Catastrophe one gets the sense that, above all the damage control, admissions of guilt, and even his earnest effort to make sense of World War Two, Carl Jung simply feels let down by his species.
Present and Future
This fleeting analysis of both Wotan and After the Catastrophe has allowed us to see how Jung's writings changed from time and place. While it should come as no surprise that articles written about Germany would vary in flavor from before and after the war, Jung's affair with Germany gives us a valuable insight into how his thinking changed due to contemporary events. Before the war he was hopeful regarding the German nation; perhaps he even believed he was seeing real-world evidence for the existence of archetypes. But if Jung thought he would witness a healthy collective catalyst, as the original conclusion to Wotan would imply, the events that unfolded over the next ten years defied his expectations. The cataclysm seems to have soured Jung considerably. His writing is cool and at times clinical, and the volleys of myth and history that he is so fond of pummeling his dear reader with in other works are nowhere to be found. Certainly Jung sets out in Catastrophe to appeal to a world shook to its core. He is out to reassure, to assess, and to diagnose. There is also much talk of collective guilt, and even the contagion of evil. Jung admits that he himself was caught up in the fervor of the day. But he is also angry. His anger is concerned not just with the actual horrors of the war, but with the fact that the positive psychological change he was so certain the Germans had within their grasp was lost. Germany had the opportunity to prove the teleological, healthy aspect of the collective unconscious- and by proxy the validity and value of Jung's own psychological theory. The task was left to the Germans, and it was botched.
And that is why it is still a surprise that, at the very end of Catastrophe, Jung once again urges the German people to consider the opportunity they still have: “If the Germans today are having a hard time of it outwardly, fate has at least given them a unique opportunity of turning their eyes inward to the inner man. In this way they might make amends for a sin of omission of which our whole civilization is guilty.”42
The comparison between Wotan and Catastrophe allows us to see that all the intrigue, controversy, and discouragement that surround Carl Gustav Jung during the Nazi years actually refines his thinking. He becomes more sophisticated in his critique on society, which culminates in his 1957 essay The Undiscovered Self. He also finds a novel way of proving the existence of archetypes in Flying Saucers.43 And while Jung's pessimism towards society blooms by the time he writes Undiscovered Self, he has finally found a way to make amends for his infatuation with the living god of Wotan: by stressing that the psychological responsibility of each and every individual is the key to a better future. Self-knowledge is key.44
Let that be Jung's legacy.
***
1Roger Brooke, Jung and Phenomenology (Trivium, March 1, 2009).
2 David Skrbina, Panpsychism in the West (MIT Press, May 1, 2005).
3C.G. Jung, “Wotan,” The Collected Works (Bollingen, Princeton, 1971), vol. 10.
4C.G. Jung, “After the Catastrophe,” C.W., vol. 10.
5Ibid. pp.391
6S. Grossman, “C.G. Jung and National Socialism,” Journal of European Studies, ix (1979) 9: 231-59. [In P. Bishop (ed.) (1999) Jung in Contexts: A Reader. London and New York: Routledge. 92-121.]
7C.G. Jung, “Wotan,” C.W., pp.398.
8Ibid. pp. 394.
9C.G. Jung, “The Spirit Mercurius,” C.W., vol. 13.
10C.G. Jung, “Psychology of the Child Archetype,” C.W., vol. 9.1.
11C.G. Jung, “Wotan,” C.W., pp. 374.
12Ibid. pp. 385.
13Ibid. pp. 375.
14Ibid. pp. 383.
15Ibid. pp. 388.
16C.G. Jung, “After the Catastrophe,” C.W., vol. 10, pp. 401.
17Grossman, “C.G. Jung and National Socialsim,” 252.
18C.G. Jung, “After the Catastrophe,” C.W., vol. 10. pp. 399.
19C.G. Jung, “The Spirit Mercurius,” C.W., vol. 13.
20Ibid., “Psychological Aspects of the Kore,” vol. 9.1
21Ibid., “Two Kinds of Thinking,” vol. 5.
22C.G. Jung, “Wotan,” vol. 10, pp. 398.
23C.G. Jung, “Catastrophe,” C.W. Vol. 10. pp. 404.
24Ibid. pp. 405.
25Ibid. pp. 406.
26Ibid. pp. 422.
27Ibid. pp. 403.
28Ibid. pp. 405.
29Ibid. pp. 405.
30Ibid. pp. 414
31Ibid. pp. 433.
32Ibid. pp. 432.
33Ibid. pp. 424.
34Ibid. pp. 404.
35Ibid. pp. 408.
36Andrew Samuels, The Political Psyche (Routledge, 1st Edition, 1993) Kindle Edition,Chapters 13+14.
37C.G. Jung, “Catastrophe,” C.W. Vol. 10. pp. 402.
38C.G. Jung, “Flying Saucers,” C.W., vol. 10, pp. 594.
39C.G. Jung, “Two Essays on Analytical Psychology,” C.W., vol. 7.
40C.G. Jung, “Two Kinds of Thinking,” C.W., vol. 5, pp. 43-44.
41C.G. Jung, “The Structure of the Unconscious,” C.W, vol. 7, pp. 381.
42C.G. Jung, “Catastrophe,” C.W. Vol. 10 pp. 443.
43C.G. Jung, “Flying Saucers,” C.W. Vol. 10.
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