W.B. Yeats’s seminal poem “The Second Coming,” penned in 1919 and published in 1920, stands as a chilling prophecy and a profound meditation on the state of Western civilization in the aftermath of the First World War. It emerged from a period of immense global turmoil, witnessing not only the devastation of the Great War but also the Russian Revolution, the Irish War of Independence, and the influenza pandemic. These cataclysmic events profoundly shaped Yeats’s worldview, fostering a sense of an ending, a collapse of established orders, and the terrifying onset of a new, brutal age. The poem encapsulates a widespread disillusionment with progress, reason, and traditional values, articulating a pervasive anxiety about the future of humanity.
At its core, “The Second Coming” grapples with the central theme of historical disintegration and the cyclical, violent nature of societal transformation. It posits that humanity is experiencing the dissolution of a major historical epoch – the Christian era – and is on the cusp of an ominous and terrifying rebirth into a new age. This theme is not merely a political or social commentary but deeply intertwined with Yeats’s elaborate philosophical system, particularly his theory of historical gyres, as detailed in his later work, “A Vision.” The poem’s enduring power lies in its ability to synthesize personal anguish, esoteric thought, and a universal sense of impending catastrophe, offering a vision that remains eerily resonant with subsequent periods of societal upheaval.
Disintegration and the Collapse of Order
The opening lines of “The Second Coming” immediately establish a pervasive sense of chaos and loss of control: “Turning and turning in the widening gyre / The falcon cannot hear the falconer; / Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; / Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.” This imagery is richly layered. The “gyre” refers to Yeats’s historical theory of two interlocking cones representing opposing forces – objective/subjective, primary/antithetical – that define historical epochs. As one gyre widens and weakens, the other tightens and strengthens, leading to a point of crisis, a transition from one 2,000-year cycle to the next. The widening gyre here signifies the disintegration of the current age. The “falcon cannot hear the falconer” powerfully symbolizes the breakdown of the relationship between control and freedom, authority and obedience, perhaps even between God and humanity. It represents a loss of guiding principles, a breakdown of communication, and an inability to maintain order.
“Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold” is arguably one of the most quoted lines in modern poetry, succinctly capturing the essence of entropy and decay. The “centre” can be interpreted in multiple ways: the moral core of society, the political stability of nations, the intellectual foundations of belief systems, or even the spiritual axis that provides meaning. Its inability to “hold” signifies a complete societal fragmentation. This breakdown leads directly to “Mere anarchy loosed upon the world.” This is not just political disorder but a deeper, more fundamental chaos – a collapse of ethical frameworks, a blurring of moral distinctions, and a surge of primal, uncontrolled forces. The world is plunged into a state where established norms, values, and institutions lose their efficacy, leaving humanity adrift in a sea of formlessness.
Yeats further emphasizes this breakdown through visceral imagery: “The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere / The ceremony of innocence is drowned.” The “blood-dimmed tide” evokes the horrific carnage of World War I, the Russian Civil War, and the violence gripping Ireland. It is a powerful metaphor for the overwhelming and indiscriminate violence that has engulfed the world, tainting everything it touches. Against this backdrop, “the ceremony of innocence is drowned.” “Ceremony” implies ritual, tradition, order, and a sense of shared purpose or sacredness. “Innocence” refers to purity, moral clarity, and perhaps a pre-lapsarian state of grace or simply the natural goodness of humanity. Its drowning suggests that these foundational elements of human decency and societal coherence have been irrevocably submerged and lost in the deluge of chaos and bloodshed. The very possibility of pure, uncorrupted existence seems to have vanished, replaced by a world steeped in violence and moral ambiguity.
The Paralysis of the Good and the Fervor of the Malevolent
A particularly poignant and insightful observation on the nature of the crisis comes in the lines: “The best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity.” This stark dichotomy highlights a crucial aspect of societal collapse: the moral paralysis of those who might traditionally be seen as leaders or guardians of values. “The best,” often interpreted as those who possess virtue, wisdom, or integrity, are rendered inert, indecisive, or perhaps overwhelmed by the sheer scale of the unfolding disaster. They “lack all conviction,” unable to act decisively or to rally against the encroaching darkness. Their moral compass, once clear, now spins wildly, or they are simply too refined or too hesitant to engage with the brutal realities of the new age.
In chilling contrast, “the worst” – those who are corrupt, brutal, extremist, or nihilistic – are characterized by an unsettling and dangerous fervor. They are “full of passionate intensity,” driven by a raw, unthinking force that allows them to seize control in the vacuum created by the inert “best.” This observation is profoundly relevant to the rise of totalitarian ideologies in the 20th century, where charismatic demagogues, often driven by extreme and destructive convictions, garnered widespread support while established democratic or liberal forces faltered. It suggests that in times of crisis, it is not moral rectitude but sheer, unbridled energy and conviction, however misdirected, that often determine the course of events. This imbalance between a passive good and an active evil foreshadows the nature of the “Second Coming” itself.
The Cyclical Nature of History and "A Vision"
To fully grasp the “Second Coming,” one must delve into Yeats’s complex and often idiosyncratic philosophy of history, meticulously detailed in “A Vision” (1925, revised 1937). Yeats believed that history moves in recurring 2,000-year cycles, each characterized by the dominance of one of two interlocking “gyres” or cones. One gyre represents primary, objective, communal, and rational forces, while the other represents antithetical, subjective, individualistic, and emotional forces. At the end of each 2,000-year cycle, the dominant gyre reaches its widest point, leading to a point of crisis, a “revelation,” where its antithesis emerges, often violently, to initiate the next cycle.
The poem implies that the Christian era, which Yeats saw as a primary (objective/communal) age originating from the birth of Christ (a “supernatural arrival” that inverted the pagan world), is now concluding its 2,000-year cycle. Its gyre has widened to its maximum, leading to chaos and disintegration. The “Second Coming” is not Christ’s benevolent return, but the violent birth of the antithetical force that will define the next 2,000-year cycle. This new era, emerging from the breakdown of the Christian order, is prophesied to be brutal, perhaps pagan, and certainly antithetical to the values of love, mercy, and order that characterized, at least theoretically, the departing age. Yeats saw human history not as linear progress but as a series of great, recurring shifts, each culminating in a violent “second coming” or “annunciation” that redefines human consciousness and civilization.
The "Second Coming": A Terrifying Revelation
The second stanza dramatically shifts from the immediate chaos to a prophetic vision of what is to come: “Surely some revelation is at hand; / Surely the Second Coming is at hand.” The repetition underscores the certainty and inevitability of this impending event. However, Yeats immediately subverts the traditional Christian expectation of Christ’s return for judgment and salvation. Instead, the revelation is deeply unsettling.
The vision emerges from “Spiritus Mundi,” a concept in Yeats’s philosophy referring to a collective unconscious or universal memory where all images, symbols, and archetypes reside. It is from this primal pool of shared human experience that the new image, the harbinger of the next age, begins to manifest. The dream-like sequence describes a figure: “A vast image out of Spiritus Mundi / Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert / A shape with lion body and the head of a man, / A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun.” This imagery is profoundly disturbing and symbolic. The “lion body and the head of a man” immediately brings to mind the Sphinx, an ancient, enigmatic creature of Egyptian and Greek mythology, representing mystery, primordial power, and often, cruel wisdom. Its location in the “sands of the desert” evokes desolation, ancient civilizations, and a return to a pre-Christian, perhaps pagan, barbarism.
The most chilling aspect of this “rough beast” (a term used later in the poem) is its “gaze blank and pitiless as the sun.” “Blank” suggests an absence of human emotion, empathy, or moral judgment. It is utterly indifferent to human suffering or values. “Pitiless as the sun” evokes the sun’s impartial yet scorching power – it gives life but can also burn and destroy, without malice, simply by its nature. This creature is not evil in a moral sense, but amoral, inhuman, representing a force beyond human comprehension or control, devoid of the compassion or salvation associated with the traditional Second Coming. It is a primal, elemental force, embodying the raw, unfeeling power that will dominate the new epoch.
The movement of this creature is slow, deliberate, and inexorable: “Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it / Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.” The “slow thighs” emphasize its immense power and the inevitability of its approach. Even nature seems to recoil in horror, with the “indignant desert birds” circling in distress. This paints a picture of a world recoiling from the terrifying manifestation of this new, alien force.
The Birth of the "Rough Beast"
The poem culminates in one of the most iconic and haunting questions in modern literature: “And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?” The term “rough beast” perfectly encapsulates the terrifying, uncivilized, and primal nature of the incoming epoch. It is a force that is unrefined, potentially barbaric, and certainly destructive of the old order. The phrase “its hour come round at last” reinforces the cyclical nature of history and the inevitability of this moment. It suggests a long-awaited climax, the turning point of the gyre.
The final image, “Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born,” is a profound inversion and desecration of Christian symbolism. Bethlehem, the birthplace of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace and the bringer of salvation, is here presented as the birthing place of an anti-Christ figure, a symbol of brute force and chaos. The verb “slouches” is crucial: it implies a heavy, lumbering, perhaps menacing gait, lacking grace or divine purpose. It is a birth not of light and redemption, but of darkness and a terrifying, unfamiliar power. This suggests a complete inversion of values, where the sacred place is defiled by the emergence of a monstrous, antithetical force. The new age, thus, is not one of spiritual renewal, but a raw, unfeeling manifestation of power that will fundamentally reshape human civilization, potentially into something unrecognizable and deeply unsettling.
Yeats's Context and Prophetic Ambiguity
Yeats’s “The Second Coming” is undeniably rooted in the specific historical anxieties of his time. The unprecedented carnage of World War I, which shattered European certainties about progress and civilization, the violent birth of the Soviet Union through the Russian Revolution, and the bitter civil strife engulfing Ireland (culminating in the Irish War of Independence and subsequent Civil War) all contributed to his pervasive sense of breakdown. He witnessed the erosion of traditional Anglo-Irish culture, the rise of nationalist fervor, and the brutal realities of political extremism. These events, filtered through his esoteric historical theories, led him to believe that humanity was experiencing a profound, existential crisis.
However, the poem’s genius lies in its prophetic ambiguity. While rooted in early 20th-century events, the “rough beast” is never explicitly defined. This open-endedness allows the poem to transcend its immediate historical context and speak to subsequent generations facing their own periods of profound societal upheaval. The “rough beast” can be interpreted as various totalitarian ideologies (Fascism, Communism), environmental catastrophe, technological dehumanization, or any emergent destructive force that challenges established orders and moral frameworks. The poem serves as a stark warning about the fragility of civilization and the potential for a return to barbarism, whether spiritual, political, or social. It doesn’t offer solutions or hope; rather, it presents a chilling vision of an inevitable, terrifying transformation.
The central theme of W.B. Yeats’s “The Second Coming” is thus a profound and chilling prophecy of historical disintegration and the violent, terrifying birth of a new, fundamentally different, and likely darker, historical epoch. Through vivid, unsettling imagery and a deeply embedded philosophical framework of cyclical history, Yeats articulates a world where established order collapses, moral certainties vanish, and the very foundations of civilization begin to crumble under the weight of overwhelming chaos. The poem stands as a testament to the poet’s acute perception of the spiritual and political crises of his era, translating personal anguish into a universal vision of impending doom.
The poem’s enduring power lies in its capacity to resonate across time and contexts. The “blood-dimmed tide” and the “drowning of the ceremony of innocence” continue to evoke the destructive power of violence and the loss of foundational values in any period of conflict or societal fragmentation. Furthermore, the poignant observation that “the best lack all conviction, while the worst / Are full of passionate intensity” remains a sharp critique of moral complacency in the face of emergent, destructive forces. It highlights a recurring pattern in history where those with malevolent intent often gain ascendancy due to the inertia or indecision of the virtuous.
Ultimately, “The Second Coming” serves not merely as a historical artifact but as a powerful, unsettling meditation on the cyclical nature of human history and the fragility of human civilization. The final, indelible image of the “rough beast slouching towards Bethlehem” crystallizes the poem’s core message: that the transition between historical epochs is often violent and terrifying, marking not a progression towards a higher state, but a fundamental, often brutal, reorientation of human consciousness and societal values. Yeats’s vision is a stark warning, a lament for a dying age, and a chilling prognostication of what might follow when the center can no longer hold.