While modern man is primarily an historical being—his life and world grounded with little transhistorical remainder in a succession of concrete, unrepeatable, irrevocable events—archaic man understands history as a “fall” from the real and enduring “paradise of archetypes” into an intolerable condition of chaos, corruption, and ephemerality: one that must be abolished through a ritual repetition of the cosmogony, restoring nature and society to the pure archetypal reality of the mythical before-time—In illo tempore. For the traditional consciousness, time does not exist as a linear progression, but rather as a constellation of “archetypal gestures,” each established in illo tempore by gods, heroes, or a divine race of ancestors; and human activity is only real and meaningful insofar as it participates in these paradigmatic moments.
Thus, to invoke a few examples of a phenomenon ubiquitous in traditional societies, the Yuin people of Australia learned to make their implements from Daramulun, the All Father; the Karuk tribe of California follow in every facet of life the example set by the Ikxareyavs, a quasi-angelic race who lived in the Americas long before them and instituted all their customs, telling them in each instance that “humans will do the same”; New Guinean sailors personify the navigator-hero Aori when they undertake a voyage. Cities, temples, and cultivated lands have their celestial doubles; the wilds do not, as these are emblematic of the welter and waste of pre-creation. The Tabernacle of the Israelites corresponds to a heavenly prototype, as does the earthly Jerusalem, periodically ravaged by foreign enemies, to an everlasting counterpart that, at least in the late biblical imagination, will descend from on high. The conquistadors domesticated the New World by erecting the cross, the axis mundi grounding the cosmic order. Even historical personages are assimilated to myths by the collective memory, losing their individuality and taking on the characteristics of legendary heroes.
Profane doings with no archetypal basis are sins, representative of man’s decline from the ideal and immutable into the particular, the individuated, the transitory—into history, which appears to the archaic mind as a cumulus of guilt to be sloughed off, thereby regenerating the cosmos and the self. This is often accomplished in new year ceremonies, which reenact the defeat of a chaos demon by a god who establishes the created order—Marduk/Tiamat, Re/Apophis, etc.—and which typically feature the confession and annulment of sins, the expulsion of evil spirits and diseases, and a restored communion between the living and the dead; all made possible by the abolition of profane time. The motif of cosmic restoration may likewise be found in rituals pertaining to marriage, childbirth, the founding of a city, and numerous other events critical to communal life.
Eliade asserts that Abrahamic religion pioneered the linear understanding of time familiar to the modern consciousness by positing a God who is not content merely to establish patterns of regenerative behavior, but who reveals himself in concrete historical events. Even the calamities of history become “negative theophanies,” and therefore real and irrevocable. While Abrahamic history is still suspended between the in illo tempore of the beginning and the end, the interval of time has taken on an increasing significance in the modern age. Since Hegel and Marx, the Western mind has endowed history with its own redemptive power—though not completely. Hegel, of course, justified history as the manifestation of a Universal Spirit, echoing the likes of Joachim of Fiore and the Hebrew prophets, while Marx retained a shadowy end-time concept in which the alienating forces that constitute human history as we have heretofore known it would finally be overcome.
For Eliade, history cannot be entirely autonomous: it must stand or fall with its animating Spirit. He ends by suggesting that modern man can only bear the burden of history—now weightier than ever—and transcend “the horizon of archetypes and repetition,” thereby discovering a newfound existential freedom, through a uniquely Abrahamic religious exercise: that of faith.