From War Doctrine to Psychedelic Therapy: How Revolutionary Theory Was Dissolved into Mysticism
In the process of reading Clausewitz and the People’s War, I came across a provocative claim: Joseph Stalin reportedly considered Clausewitz outdated. That alone was enough to send me down a rabbit hole. It’s fascinating how many self-proclaimed Communists demonize Stalin while parroting critiques rooted in institutions like the CIA-funded Frankfurt School, the Congress for Cultural Freedom, and the New Left. Vladimir Lenin had a name for this tendency: Left-Wing Communism: An Infantile Disorder.
Stalin’s dismissal of Clausewitz as outdated wasn’t a flippant rejection but a strategic recalibration. In a 1946 letter to Col.-Professor Rasin, Stalin acknowledged Clausewitz’s historical contributions while asserting that his theories no longer applied to the mechanized, ideologically charged warfare of the 20th century. This wasn’t a denial of Clausewitz’s brilliance—it was a Marxist-materialist update, rooted in the Soviet Union’s lived experience of total war and revolutionary struggle.
And yet, despite the Western left’s eagerness to disown Stalin, even his ideological enemies couldn’t deny his military acumen. Winston Churchill, no friend of Communism, praised Stalin’s wartime leadership. Churchill said of Stalin, “It is very fortunate for Russia in her agony to have this great rugged war chief at her head. He is a man of massive outstanding personality, suited to the sombre and stormy times in which his life has been cast; a man of inexhaustible courage and will-power, and a man direct and even blunt in speech, which, having been brought up in the House of Commons, I do not mind at all, especially when I have something to say of my own. Above all, he is a man with that saving sense of humour which is of high importance to all men and all nations, but particularly to great men and great nations. Stalin also left upon me the impression of a deep, cool wisdom and a complete absence of illusions of any kind.” Stalin was, for a time, the most formidable military leader on the planet—respected by allies and adversaries alike.
This wasn’t just wartime pragmatism. In 1949, Soviet Marshal Nikolai Bulganin publicly declared Stalin “the greatest military leader of modern times,” crediting him with the development of advanced Soviet military science. Stalin wasn’t merely a tactician—he was a theorist who reshaped warfare itself, integrating ideology, morale, and mechanization into a new art of war. His leadership during battles like Moscow, Stalingrad, and Berlin wasn’t just effective—it was foundational.
That’s what makes the postwar ideological rebranding so potent. The same Western institutions that once allied with Stalin to defeat fascism pivoted to demonize him, funding cultural movements that would fracture the left and reframe resistance as pathology. The Frankfurt School, the Congress for Cultural Freedom, the New Left—all part of a broader apparatus of social control. Clausewitz was outdated, Stalin was monstrous, and psychedelic mysticism replaced revolutionary theory. But who wrote that script?
This isn’t just about ideological purity—it’s about understanding how social control operates. Art, literature, music, and media have long been weaponized to make us love Capitalism. We’re programmed to lick the boots of our corporate masters while believing we’re free. The Cold War wasn’t just fought with nukes and proxy wars—it was fought through culture, through the replacement of revolutionary theory with psychedelic mysticism.
Eastern religions weren’t spared. Buddhism, for instance, was used as a soft weapon against Communism. I’ve been studying Taoism for personal development, and as far as I know, it wasn’t co-opted by the CIA. Alan Watts, though, is a cautionary tale. He romanticized and Westernized Taoism, turning it into digestible mysticism for the counterculture crowd. I steer clear of his interpretations.
Which brings me to the 1960s. The counterculture movement, LSD, the Esalen Institute—these weren’t just organic eruptions of rebellion. Some of the key figures were tied to MKUltra or affiliated with those who were. MKUltra didn’t end; it was privatized. Timothy Leary’s psychedelic research at Harvard wasn’t government-funded, but his alliance with Allen Ginsberg mirrored MKUltra’s structure—targeted influence, institutional cover, and psychological manipulation. Whether the CIA sparked the counterculture inadvertently or deliberately, I lean toward the latter.
Timothy Leary is a prime example. Some say he was an FBI or CIA asset. Nixon called him the “most dangerous man in America.” He founded the League for Spiritual Discovery, a legally registered religion built around LSD—“Turn on, tune in, drop out.” While not formally part of the antiwar movement, he tried to influence it. At the 1967 Houseboat Summit in Sausalito, Leary debated Alan Watts, Gary Snyder, and Allen Ginsberg, arguing that mass movements were obsolete and spiritually toxic. He saw the psychedelic revolution as a decentralized, tribal alternative to political activism. Today, many of his ideological descendants aren’t founding new religions—they’re creating sanctuaries and entheogenic churches structured to qualify for protection under the Religious Freedom Restoration Act. They claim it’s about world peace, but beneath the ceremonial language lies a darker undercurrent: the creation of super soldiers, the normalization of trauma as a gateway to transcendence.
Let me be clear: I don’t support the war on drugs. But I also don’t trust the psychedelic renaissance. It’s backed by rich, powerful people who gloss over the sexual abuse rampant in psychedelic therapy. That abuse isn’t accidental—it’s built into the structure. It’s not a bug—it’s a feature. And they want someone diagnosed with PTSD from sexual abuse, to undergo this treatment?
Ironically, I found the 1967 Houseboat Summit—Leary, Watts, Snyder, Ginsberg—on one of the Taoist study sites I frequent. Another thread in this tangled web of culture, control, and co-opted resistance. I haven’t finished reading everything on the site yet, but it’s already humming with contradiction.
Related:
Shaping Society: The Intersection of Art, Ideology, and Power
Doblin’s Citizens’ Diplomacy or Psychedelic Colonialism?
Prescribing the American Dream
Ms. Cat’s Chronicles 