Derechos humanos como desvalor

Alberto Buela

Derechos humanos como desvalor

Alberto Buela y Silvio Maresca conductores de Disenso, retomaron el tema del programa Nº32 sobre "La desgracia de ser heterosexual" profundizando sobre los derechos humanos y su desvalorización.

L’identité contre les robots

La technique, comme la science, ne pense pas.

 

par Claude Bourrinet

Ex: http://www.bvoltaire.fr

La technique, comme la science, ne pense pas, nous apprend Heidegger. Encore que la bêtise ne soit pas en soi bête, comme nous verrons. Toujours est-il que Susan Schneider, professeur de philosophie de l’université du Connecticut, à la suite de plusieurs experts de la recherche astronomique, affirme que les extraterrestres sont assurément des robots, non des êtres biologiques. Le cerveau mou et peu fiable est, à terme, obsolète. Le "Brave New World" sera donc robotique. Cette prédiction se fonde sur le calcul de probabilité, lui-même induit par l’hypothèse que le progrès est le seul mode opératoire de la vie. En effet, de la cellule à l’homme, on s’oriente nécessairement vers une sophistication et un accès intégral à l’artifice, ce qui conduit à une métamorphose du biologique en synthétique.

On ne sait si Mme Schneider se réjouit de cette fatalité. Le mythe faustien, qui régit notre ère techno-scientiste, nous a appris que le désir d’immortalité et de jeunesse éternelle hante notre esprit. L’autre mythe de notre modernité, celui du progrès, dont on sait qu’il prit son essor dès la fin du XVIIe siècle, est, selon Baudelaire, une idée de paresseux. En tout cas, il nie toute liberté, et dénote un manque total d’imagination anthropologique.

Telle n’est pas la réaction du professeur Stephen Hawking, qui craint cette évolution : « Une fois que les hommes auraient développé l’intelligence artificielle, celle-ci décollerait seule, et se redéfinirait de plus en plus vite », avance-t-il. « Les humains, limités par une lente évolution biologique, ne pourraient pas rivaliser et seraient dépassés. » Georges Bernanos, déjà, dès 1947, nous avait mis en garde, dans sa fameuse France contre les robots , contre la déshumanisation inhérente au triomphe des machines. Mieux vaut être imparfait, limité, voire vicieux, que d’être conformé par l’excellence éradicatrice de la technique. La liberté absolue du mécanique est l’esclavage sans rémission du vivant. N’importe quelle bête est plus libre qu’un automate, même si elle dépend des nécessités de la nature. Mais les Cassandre ont de l’avenir !

Pourtant, Heidegger associe notre pensée à notre être, et singulièrement au langage, qui est ce qui est le plus proche de notre âme, le vivant en parole, le verbe qui fait un monde. Il faut un être qui dise ce monde pour qu’il existe. Le règne de la machine, c’est l’abolition du monde, du lieu où l’on devient soi-même.

Ulysse, dans la merveilleuse épopée d’Homère, illustre de façon émouvante cette vérité : plutôt que de céder à la tentation d’immortalité proposée par Circé, il préfère son Ithaque, si pauvre que seules les chèvres y peuvent paître, mais qui est sa demeure, le lieu de sa naissance, là où résident son père, sa femme, son enfant, un monde riche d’humanité.

Sur la révolution conservatrice et, plus particulièrement, sur Friedrich-Georg Jünger

Robert Steuckers

Lille, 27 juin 2014

Sur la révolution conservatrice et, plus particulièrement, sur Friedrich-Georg Jünger

(en compagnie de la Camarde...!)

Le néo-nihilisme, nouveau mal français

Le néo-nihilisme, nouveau mal français: quelles réponses?

 

par Jean-Yves Le Gallou

 

Ex: http://www.bvoltaire.fr

Les Français sont abrutis par la propagande médiatique. Celle-ci véhicule un néo-nihilisme ahurissant.

Ce néo-nihilisme repose sur une négation des réalités. Négation des origines et de leur importance. Négation du Grand Remplacement de populations. Négation de l’existence même d’un peuple français historique. Négation de l’échec de tout processus d’assimilation des immigrés venus de loin. Négation de l’islamisation de la société et des mœurs. Négation de l’échec de la « conception citoyenne de la nation » devenue simple paravent du communautarisme.

Ce néo-nihilisme nie aussi les réalités anthropologiques. Il prétend déconstruire les différences de sexe. Tout en promouvant un « homosexualisme » militant, négateur du mariage et des liens de filiation. Sa vision est celle de l’immédiateté, du grand carnaval de l’Homo festivus et de la Gay Pride.

Promu par les médias de l’oligarchie, ce néo-nihilisme est devenu l’idéologie dominante de la classe politique. Par connivence d’abord : journalistes et politiques déjeunent ensemble, voyagent ensemble, dînent ensemble… et plus si affinités. Par désir mimétique aussi : pour un politique, la recette pour se faire inviter à la télévision, c’est de tenir un discours média-compatible. Résultat : ceux qui devraient donner du sens se rallient – peu ou prou – au néo-nihilisme de l’État-spectacle et de l’Homo festivus. D’où le discrédit des partis politiques : Front de gauche, écolos, PS, UMP. À force de rechercher la dédiabolisation/banalisation, c’est le Front national lui-même qui pourrait perdre le crédit de sa différence. Or, suivre le vent n’est rien d’autre qu’« une ambition de feuille morte ».

Face à cette verticale du pouvoir médias/politiques, les réactions viennent des profondeurs du peuple. D’où l’ampleur des manifestations sociétales : de la Manif pour tous, du Printemps français, des Bonnets rouges et peut-être demain d’un PEGIDA (les mouvements anti-islamisation en Allemagne) à la française.

Les réactions viennent aussi des intellectuels. D’hommes et de femmes qui savent qu’ils ont le « devoir de vérité ». D’hommes et de femmes qui osent penser la radicalité : des essayistes comme Éric Zemmour ou Hervé Juvin, des écrivains comme Renaud Camus ou Richard Millet, des artistes ou critiques d’art comme Aude de Kerros, des esprits indépendants comme Robert Ménard ou Béatrice Bourges.

À eux de donner du sens. À eux de rappeler que la patrie (la terre des pères) n’a de sens que si elle porte une identité charnelle et civilisationnelle. À eux de rappeler qu’il n’y a pas de communauté nationale sans réalité substantielle, croyances communes, valeurs morales et sociales partagées et leur hiérarchie. À eux de rappeler qu’il y a des permanences anthropologiques et culturelles à respecter. À eux de rappeler que la souveraineté n’a de sens que si elle est enracinée.

Le renouveau ne passera pas par les structures anciennes tributaires des conformismes. Il viendra de la mise en forme par les intellectuels dissidents des aspirations profondes du peuple. Il sera possible grâce au contournement des médias par Internet et les réseaux sociaux.

La «Grande Séparation»: du citoyen à l’homme de rien…

La «Grande Séparation»: du citoyen à l’homme de rien…

 

 

La Grande Séparation qui vient affirme que rien n’existe que l’individu absolu

 

par Hervé Juvin

Ex: http://www.bvoltaire.fr

 

J’ai écrit La Grande Séparation parce que je suis affolé de la perte de notre mémoire historique qui accompagne la perte de notre identité nationale. Le monde dans lequel nous vivons encore est dessiné par des frontières, par des nations, qui nous donnent notre citoyenneté et notre identité. Le principe de la souveraineté nationale garantit aux citoyens la liberté de décider de leurs lois, de leurs mœurs, de leur destin, sur leur territoire et à l’intérieur de leurs frontières. Les conditions d’acquisition de la citoyenneté assurent l’unité de la nation, et la transmission entre les générations. La séparation est géographique, respectueuse des cultures, des civilisations, de la diversité collective des peuples.

La Grande Séparation qui vient affirme que rien n’existe que l’individu absolu. Elle invente l’homme hors-sol, sans histoire, sans origine, sans sexe, sans âge, sans race. Elle nous sépare de nos territoires, de nos identités, de nos origines. Elle célèbre l’homme de nulle part, le migrant perpétuel, sans identité, sans appartenance et sans liens. Et elle nous coupe de l’histoire, elle célèbre le consommateur pour effacer le citoyen, elle laisse la propriété et le marché dévorer la nation et l’identité.

Des forces puissantes agissent en faveur de cette Grande Séparation. Les intérêts qui veulent remplacer la société par le contrat privé, le marché et l’individu de droit ne manquent pas. Ceux qui considèrent que la nation et l’État ne sont que des entraves à l’exploitation de toutes les ressources disponibles sur la planète non plus. Qui sont ces gens qui s’opposent à ce qu’on creuse leur sol pour y exploiter le gaz de schiste ? Qui sont ceux qui entendent préserver leurs espèces animales et végétales endémiques, quand les usines du vivant leur promettent de meilleurs rendements ? Et qui sont ces indigènes qui s’opposent aux colons qui tirent plus d’argent de leurs terres, de leurs mers et de leur vie ?

J’ai voulu contribuer à alerter les Français. Nous vivons un nouvel épisode de la colonisation. Ce sont les ONG, les fondations, les fonds d’investissement qui s’y emploient. Cette fois, c’est nous qui sommes victimes, comme ils l’ont été, eux du Congo, du Maroc ou de Chine. Mais la réalité n’a pas changé. Nous vivons aussi un nouvel épisode de la guerre de toujours, celle de la liberté des peuples à décider de leur destin. Cette fois, des États-Unis dont l’autorité morale est ruinée, dont la prétention à détenir le secret de la réussite est épuisée, et qui n’ont plus que leur force militaire pour écraser le monde, constituent la première menace pour la paix mondiale et pour notre liberté. Mais ne nous y trompons pas. La religion scientiste, l’idée folle de construire un homme nouveau, libéré de la mort, de l’histoire et de toute identité est la première menace à laquelle nous devons faire face, hommes de notre terre, de notre France, et qui savons dire « Nous ».

L'homme sans liens...

L'homme sans liens...

Ex: http://metapoinfos.hautetfort.com

Nous vous signalons la publication du douzième numéro de la revue Perspectives libres consacré à l'anomie qui frappe nos sociétés. La revue Perspectives libres, dirigée par Pierre-Yves Rougeyron, est publiée sous couvert du Cercle Aristote et est disponible sur le site de la revue .

Présentation du numéro

« L’anomie de nos sociétés est aujourd’hui un fait sinon largement admis du moins globalement constaté avec une sorte de trépignement qui peut inquiéter. Ces germes de pourrissement social attirent à intervalles réguliers tout ce que la France et les sociétés dites avancées possèdent comme faune sociologique, entomologistes sociaux et autres inspecteurs de dépôt de bilan civilisationnel. Il y a quelque chose d’impudique – comme un fantasme de ruine – à contempler la tragédie avec gourmandise en priant de pouvoir abaisser le puce comme dans les arènes romaines devant la grande curée terminale censée emporter notre communion humaine dégradée en vulgaire vivre-ensemble.

C’est de cet homme délié car déraciné et par la même désincarné que nous allons esquisser un portrait ici. Délié face à ses semblables, face à tout destin collectif, il est désorienté dans le temps et de l’espace ; venu de rien, il n’entend aller nulle part. Déraciné car ne pouvant plus avoir de rapport à la terre et aux morts ; inapte à se figurer dans une société qui, comme l’avait souligné Auguste Comte, est faite de « plus de morts que de vivants ». Désincarné car ce qui fait de nous des êtres charnels, c’est ce qui nous distingue de l’autre à l’échelle individuelle, comme notre peau, ou à l’échelle collective, comme les clans, les nations, les frontières. Comment en sommes-nous arrivés là ?

[…]

Contre cette inhumanité qui vient, dominée par les puissances maîtrisant l’immatériel et l’approche réticulaire de la puissance, il faut reprendre la seule querelle qui vaille, « celle de l’homme » comme le disait le général de Gaulle. A cette fin, contre l’autonomie de l’individu auto-centré dans son néant, il faut redécouvrir l’incomplétude de nos sociétés. En effet, comme dans les théorèmes mathématique la solution se trouve peut-être à l’extérieur du problème : comme nos sociétés ne peuvent être leur propre référent, elles ont besoin de quelque chose qui les entoure, les pénètre et les unie, une transcendance civique ou religieuse. Cette transcendance doit être issue de notre histoire, de notre Tradition. Ce qui n’implique nullement une logique de passéisme mais une logique de transmission arrimée sur une nostalgie et sur une véritable conscience du passé. Il ne s’agit pas là des caricatures d’appartenance des idéologues du bien (parti espagnol/impérial, islamistes) mais d’une affirmation de soi tranquille et politique qui doit passer par des étapes de reprise en compte de soi et de mise à distance (la distance du dialogue) des autres. Commencer par se rendre compte que pour qu’il y ait eux et nous, il faut d’abord prendre conscience que la vraie fraternité implique que tous les hommes ne soient pas frères.

Pour ce faire, nous devons reprendre fierté et foi en nous et dans notre lignée. Pour préserver notre humanité, nous devons affirmer notre particularisme en tant que Français et le travailler jusqu’à le ressentir réellement, en nous rappelant que l’éthique est quelque chose de concret : prendre soin des siens d’abord. Politiquement, nous devons refaire communauté et nous battre pour la souveraineté et la gloire pour des objectifs clairement politiques. Comme à chaque fois où la France a failli être détruite, un camp des politiques doit se lever, car en la sauvant, nous sauvrons une part du génie humain, celui de nos ancêtres.

Les temps qui arrivent seront terribles, mais « [p]ourtant, à la fin des fins, la dignité des hommes se révoltera » »

Pierre-Yves ROUGEYRON, directeur de la rédaction.

Sommaire

Pierre-Yves ROUGEYRON : « Fraternité perdue »

Dossier : L’Homme sans liens

Marie-Céline COURILLEAULT : « L’Homme sans liens »

Michael Allen GILLESPIE : « La question de la Modernité et des possibilités de l’essor humain »

Jérémy-Marie PICHON : « L’Homo Canal +. Enquête sur  un fascisme accompli : le Cool »

Maria VILLELA-PETIT : « Simone Weil et « L’Enracinement » »

Anthony ELLIOTT : « La Réinvention dans un monde au-delà des liens »

Jean-François GAUTIER : « Avec et sans lien(s) »

Stéphane VINOLO : « Le prisme diffractant du lien social »

Pierre-Antoine CHARDEL :  « Une herméneutique sociologique dans la société liquide. Lecture de Zygmunt Bauman »

Libres pensées

Erik S. REINERT :  « Le futur de la société d’information en Europe : contributions au débat »

Libres propos

Julien FUNNARO : « 1989 : l’anniversaire oublié »

Charles ROBIN : « « Mon ex est quelqu’un de bien ». Éloge de la décence amoureuse »

 

 

Dossier : Jean-François Mattéi

Pierre-Yves ROUGEYRON : « Jean-François Mattéi, le maître et le compagnon »

Marc HERCEG : « Esthétique et métaphysique dans l’œuvre de Jean-François Mattéi »

Jérôme PALAZZOLO : « La famille contemporaine face à la globalisation mondiale : approche systémique et anthropologique »

Marc ALPOZZO : « Entretien avec Jean-François Mattéi »

Pierre LE VIGAN : « Albert Camus, une vision grecque du monde »

La renaissance orientale

LA RENAISSANCE ORIENTALE

 

Son apport à la philosophie et la spiritualité occidentale

Rémy Valat
Ex: http://metamag.fr

Les éditions Payot viennent de rééditer La Renaissance Orientale de Raymond Schwab, le livre de référence sur les débuts et l’impact des études indiennes et orientales sur les sociétés européennes aux XVIIIe et XIXe siècles. Raymond  Schawb (1884-1956) était un authentique humaniste aux multiples facettes : il était traducteur (il pratiquait l'hébreu, le hongrois et l'anglais), romancier et poète. L’Orientalisme a été précédé par un mouvement précurseur, dit pré-indianiste, mouvement animé par des missionnaires ou des fonctionnaires portugais, italiens ou français (en particulier, Anquetil-Duperron, 1731-1805) puis par le pouvoir colonial britannique établi dans la péninsule indienne. Pour ce dernier, l’intérêt linguistique était considéré comme une arme politique pour asseoir sa domination sur le pays.

La société de Calcutta, créée par William Jones en 1784 rassemblait des hauts-fonctionnaires du pouvoir colonial, souvent des juristes, épris de culture indigènes. On leur doit les premières traductions des textes sacrés indiens, en particulier la Bhagavad-Gîtâ par Charles Wilkins (1784), mais aussi les premières parutions scientifiques sur la culture indienne et les premiers pas de l’archéologie, de la numismatique et de l’épigraphie dans le sous-continent. Guidés par des intérêts politiques, l’Angleterre se désintéresse rapidement des études orientales, l’Orientalisme sera essentiellement un mouvement français et allemand (en particulier le mouvement indo-germanique). 

En France, le Directoire fonde l’École des Langues Orientales Vivantes (actuel Institut National des Langues et Civilisations Orientales – INALCO) en 1795 ; cette création précéde de peu l’expédition de Bonaparte en Égypte qui donnera une impulsion significative aux études orientales et en particulier l’égyptologie. L’Orientalisme est en quelque sorte un avatar des guerres napoléoniennes puisque Alexandre Hamilton (1762-1824), officier de la Royal Navy et ancien membre de la Société Asiatique de Calcutta, s’est trouvé assigné à résidence à Paris au moment de la rupture de la paix d’Amiens. Cet officier, qui étudiait des textes indiens conservés au département des manuscrits bénéficia de la bienveillance et de la solidarité scientifique d’érudits de la Bibliothèque Nationale. Reconnaissant, Hamilton leur enseigna la langue sanskrite.

Parmi ces passionnés et privilégiés se trouvait le philosophe et écrivain allemand Friedrisch Schlegel, qui sera l’un des animateurs du « Cercle d'Iéna » et du romantisme allemand. La première chaire de sanskrit sera créée quelques années plus tard au Collège de France en 1814 : Eugène Burnouf, qui a fondé la Société asiatique en 1822, y professera à partir de 1832. Eugène Burnouf a contribué au développement des études bouddhiques en Occident, il a notamment traduit l’un des plus beau texte du bouddhisme : le Sutra du Lotus (1852). Des bancs des universités, l’orientalisme se répand dans les mouvements littéraires et philosophiques, les plus grands auteurs français y ont été sensibles (Alphonse de Lamartine, Victor Hugo, Honoré de Balzac, Edmond Michelet, Saint-Simon, Gérard de Nerval, Gustave Flaubert, les Parnassiens, les symbolistes....).

La Renaissance Orientale : un ouvrage capital pour saisir les représentations et les interprétations des cultures asiatiques par les Européens et leur apport à la philosophie et la spiritualité occidentale.
La Renaissance Orientale , de Raymond Schwab, Editions Payot ( réedition) , 688 pages, 32€.

Making Sense of Heidegger

Making Sense of Heidegger

By Greg Johnson

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com

Thomas Sheehan
Making Sense of Heidegger: A Paradigm Shift ^[2]
New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2014

Making sense of Heidegger just got a whole lot easier.

When I was in graduate school, Aristotle and Heidegger were the two philosophers I studied most thorougly. Heidegger is a notoriously difficult writer, so naturally I sought out secondary literature for guidance. Unfortunately, most Heidegger literature is not particularly helpful. The best guides to Heidegger I discovered were Otto Pöggeler ^[3], Graeme Nicholson ^[4], Michael Zimmerman ^[5], Richard Polt ^[6], and Thomas Sheehan ^[7] — especially Sheehan.

Sheehan’s work was particularly important for me, because he pays special attention to Heidegger’s debts to Aristotle and Husserl, debts which cannot be overestimated but are usually given short shrift. I found Sheehan’s writing to be so penetrating, while at the same time clear and engaging, that I went on to read practically everything he wrote, for instance his books Karl Rahner: The Philosophical Foundations ^[8] and The First Coming: How the Kingdom of God Became Christianity ^[9], which I never would have read for the subject matter alone.

Two of Sheehan’s articles were particularly fateful for my subsequent intellectual development, for he was the first person I ever read who mentioned Julius Evola ^[10] and Alain de Benoist, ^[11] although my ultimate reactions were certainly not what he was aiming for.

Once I was out of graduate school, however, I stopped following the secondary literature on Heidegger, even the really good stuff. By then, I could read Heidegger on my own, without training wheels. And since I was a mere “amateur” Heideggerian, I had no professional credentials to maintain.

Of course I continued to follow new releases of Heidegger’s own writings. And I admit to picking up a few pieces of secondary literature: Polt’s The Emergency of Being ^[12], Charles Bambach’s Heidegger’s Roots: Nietzsche, National Socialism, and the Greeks ^[13], Julian Young’s Heidegger’s Later Philosophy ^[14], and, just for the fun of it, Adam Sharr’s Heidegger’s Hut ^[15]. But I was pretty much on the wagon until November, when I decided to review Alexander Dugin’s dreadful book ^[16] on Heidegger.

Fortunately, when I bought Dugin, Amazon suggested I might also like Thomas Sheehan’s Making Sense of Heidegger. Never have I clicked a “buy” button more quickly. The book arrived as soon as it was published, actually on the day I finished reading Dugin. But still, it felt late, decades late. I wish Sheehan had published this book 25 years ago. 

A Paradigm Shift

Making Sense of Heidegger argues for a “paradigm shift” in Heidegger interpretation: from Being to meaning, and from meaning to the source of meaning. According to Sheehan, Heidegger’s ultimate concern is with the question: what makes meaning possible? What makes it possible for beings to be meaningfully present to a knower? (For Heidegger, a scientific account of how the sense organs and the brain operate is not an adequate answer to this question, because science presupposes the meaningful presence of eyeballs, gray matter, etc.)

Sheehan makes a crushingly convincing case for his thesis, marshaling quotes from the nearly 100 volumes of Heidegger’s published writings, analyzing Heidegger’s basic terminology, establishing equivalencies among his terms, establishing equivalencies between Heideggerese and more intelligible idioms, re-translating and paraphrasing difficult texts in light of his analysis, and laying it all out step-by-step, with summaries and repetitions along the way, so you never lose the thread of the argument.

As you will see from some of the quotes below, Sheehan’s prose can be dense, bristling with hyphenated phrases, neologisms and unfamiliar terms, and words and phrases in German, Latin, and untransliterated ancient Greek. It is a lot more forbidding and thorny than it needs to be, which artificially limits the audience and impact of Sheehan’s argument to professional scholars and educated, dedicated amateurs. One wishes that Sheehan’s editors had forced him through one more draft with an eye to making this book intelligible to bright undergraduate students, which would have been possible for a writer of his proven skill. But still, the book is clear “in itself” and, unlike most literature on Heidegger, actually worth the effort. Heidegger is yet to find his Alan Watts, but whoever he may be will have to read this book.

Sheehan’s book has 10 chapters in three parts plus an Introduction and a Conclusion, occupying 294 pages altogether, plus three short appendices, a long and detailed bibliography of Heidegger’s writings in German and English translations, a briefer biography of other works cited, and two indexes: one of German, English, and Latin terms, the other of ancient Greek terms.

Sheehan’s Thesis

Sheehan states his basic thesis in his Foreword and Introduction (chapter 1) entitled “Getting to the Topic.”

Heidegger is famously interested in “Being” (Sein). Yet Sheehan argues that Heidegger’s concept of Being has been systematically misunderstood by most Heidegger scholars. In the philosophical tradition, talk of Being refers to objective, mind-independent reality, indeed “ultimate” reality — such as God, or atoms in void, or an underlying mental or material “stuff” — that gives rise to the beings we perceive around us.

For Heidegger, however, “Being” refers to the meaningful presence of beings to a knower. Heidegger makes this understanding quite explicit in “The End of Philosophy and the Task of Thinking” where he glosses “the Being of beings” as “the presence of that which is present.”[1] Present to whom? Heidegger calls the one to whom beings show up Dasein. (In ordinary German, “Dasein” means existence. Heidegger treats it as a compound of Da [there] and Sein [Being], hence “the place of Being,” i.e., the one to whom beings are present.)

Heidegger does not question the existence of mind-independent objects, although he was certainly skeptical of accounts of “ultimate” mind-independent realities. But for Heidegger, Being is ultimately involved with the human knower. Indeed, it always has been. One of the most remarkable features of Heidegger’s interpretations of Parmenides, Heraclitus, Plato, and Aristotle are his arguments that even their accounts of Being are implicitly cast in relation to the human knower.

For Heidegger, then, Being = the meaningful presence of beings to man. Thus ontology (the branch of metaphysics that deals with Being) is equivalent to phenomenology, which studies the disclosure of beings to man.

But this is just the beginning of Sheehan’s paradigm shift, for Heidegger’s ultimate concern is not Being (understood phenomenologically) but something beyond Being ^[17]. In Being and Time, Heidegger calls this the “sense” (Sinn) of Being (hence the title Making Sense of Heidegger). Heidegger has many other names for this something “beyond” Being: the temporality (Zeitlichkeit) of Dasein, the truth (Wahrheit) of Being, the essence (Wesen) of Being, Being itself or Being as such (das Sein selbst), the manifestness (Offenbarkeit) of Being, the clearing (Lichtung) of Being, the event of appropriation (Ereignis), etc.

For Sheehan, all of these names point to the same topic: the source of meaningful presence, what which opens up the “space” in which beings are meaningfully present to a knower. “The single issue that drove Heidegger’s work was not being-as-meaningful-presence but rather the source or origin of such meaningful presence” (p. xv).

In Sheehan’s terms, this source is the “thrownness” (Geworfenheit) or “thrown openness” (der geworfener Entwurf) of Dasein, to use the language of Being and Time. Or it is the “clearing” (Lichtung) or “appropriated clearing” (die ereignete Lichtung) of the later Heidegger. But both vocabularies refer to the same thing: the a priori (always-already-operative) conditions that make possible meaningful presence to a knower. “The always-already-operative thrown-open clearing is the ‘thing itself’ of all Heidegger’s work” (p. 21). So I do not wear out the hyphen key on my computer, I am just going to boil this all down to one word: the clearing.

Before we go any further, I need to define the clearing (Lichtung) and another key term of Heideggerese: appropriation (Ereignis). 

The Clearing

In ordinary German, Lichtung means “clearing,” like a clearing in the forest. The verb lichten means to clear land. Lichtung is related to Licht (light), because a clearing allows light to reach the forest floor and illuminate whatever enters the clearing. (“Light from above” is the literal meaning of “epiphany.” The clearing allows light from above.) Heidegger uses the metaphor of the clearing to refer to the conditions allow beings to be meaningfully present to a knower. The clearing is the “space” in which beings become present.

We can see and hear physical objects in physical space. We can see and hear them, because there is a space between us which our senses can traverse. Physically, light and sound come to us, but from the first person point of view, our eyes and ears reach out for experience.

Just as we see and hear things in physical space, Heidegger believes that things have meaning in a “space” as well. Because Heidegger is talking about meaning, not seeing, this use of clearing exploits another sense of lichten: to weigh anchor, to lighten a load, to free up. In this sense, Lichtung is a free and open space: the space in which beings can be meaningfully encountered.

Each object has meaning within a larger network or “world” of meanings supplied by language, culture, and tradition. Worlds of meaning are collective. In hermeneutics, such contexts of meaning are called “horizons,” for just as the horizon is the boundary of the visible world, horizons are the context in which things have meaning. But what opens up these horizons, these worlds of meaning?

In Being and Time, Heidegger speaks of man as Dasein, the place (da) of meaning (Sein), and man is opened up as the space of meaning by “temporality” (Zeitlichkeit), the temporal structure of our consciousness of meaning. This is the sense in which for Heidegger “time” is the “horizon” of “Being” (meaning). In his later writings, summarized in the 1962 lecture “Time and Being,” Heidegger offers new terms. Instead of Being, he speaks of (meaningful) presence (Anwesenheit). Instead of time as the horizon of Being, he speaks simply of the clearing in which beings become meaningfully present.

For Heidegger, the clearing is intrinsically hidden. As Sheehan puts it, quoting Heidegger at the end:

As the ultimate presupposition, the clearing must always be presupposed in any attempt to know it. It always lies “behind” us, so to speak, and it will always remain behind us (i.e., unknowable) even when we turn around to take a look at it. Consequently, we cannot go “beyond” or “behind” it without contradicting ourselves. We cannot (without moving in a vicious circle) seek the presupposition of this ultimate presupposition of all our seeking. “There is nothing else to which appropriation could be led back or in terms of which it could be explained.” (p. 227)

Heidegger’s term of the intrinsic hiddenness of the clearing is Seinsvergessenheit (forgottenness of Being), although what is forgotten is not Being but the clearing, and it has not been forgotten because it has been hidden and overlooked throughout the history of Western philosophy. 

Appropriation

For Heidegger, Ereignis refers to the intimate and reciprocal relationship of man and meaning: meaning cannot exist without man, and man cannot exist without meaning.

In ordinary German, Ereignis means “event.” However, from its first appearance as a technical term in Heidegger’s lectures in 1919, it means more than an event. Contrary to Sheehan, who insists Ereignis does not mean an event at all, Heidegger introduces the term in the context of talking about processes of consciousness and “lived experience” (Erlebnis, which he hyphenates as Er-lebnis to intensify the sense of process). For Heidegger, Ereignis is the name of a more intimate connection between knower and known than Er-lebnis. To emphasize this intimacy, this mutual belonging between knower and known, Heidegger introduces a hyphen (Er-eignis), turning it — against all etymology — into a compound term meaning “to make one’s own,” to take possession. Heidegger later approved the French appropriement (appropriation, as in taking possession) as a translation of Ereignis. For Heidegger, the appropriation of man and meaning is mutual and reciprocal: we belong to one another.

The sense in which Ereignis also means “event” has to do with what Heidegger calls Seinsgeschichte, which is his account of the emergence of different worlds of meaning (such as the modern world, which is defined by the presupposition that all beings are transparent to consciousness and available for manipulation). Heidegger claims, in his late essay “Time and Being,” that these ages simply happen, one after another, and since these ages set the outward boundaries of intelligibility, we cannot get behind their succession to understand their why and wherefore. Meaning happens. Worlds of meaning happen. We can make sense of things within these worlds of meaning. But we cannot make sense of meaning itself. What gives meaning is hidden behind its gift.

These collective worlds of meaning are created and sustained by man, but they are not created by human consciousness. (There is more to man than consciousness. Even within the mind, consciousness is just the tip of the iceberg.) For Heidegger, language, culture, and traditions create human consciousness; human consciousness does not create language, culture, and tradition. Human consciousness and creativity take place only within a space opened by language, culture, and tradition.

Heidegger does not deny that Shakespeare wrote plays, Handel wrote oratorios, and Klee painted pictures. But he would deny that their creations are entirely individual and entirely products of the conscious mind. If they were, they would be contrived and probably unintelligible. Human creativity is situated in existing worlds of meaning and traditions of practice, and it carries these forward. Humans are not disembodied consciousnesses who can create ex nihilo.

Thus when it comes to explaining deep historical transformations, Heidegger does not think that philosophers, poets, or other “hidden legislators” hatch ideas and plans and propagate them to the rest of the culture. Rather, he claims that such individuals are merely the first ones to become conscious of and articulate stirrings in the Zeitgeist.

This would seem obscurantist, were it not for the fact that it does capture our experience of being shaped and enthralled by collective worlds of meaning before we even attain self-consciousness. It would seem disempowering, if it did not imply that dissenting ideas, too, are not merely the subjective dreams of marginal individuals but rather our awareness of historical forces far greater than ourselves. Perhaps dissent occurs to us only when change is already underway. 

Part One: Aristotelian Beginnings

In What is Called Thinking? Heidegger recommends that his students spend ten or fifteen years studying Aristotle before they pick up Nietzsche. The same advice could apply to Heidegger himself. Thus Part One of Sheehan’s book is called Aristotelian Beginnings, encompassing chapter 2, “Being in Aristotle,” and chapter 3, “Heidegger Beyond Aristotle.” These chapters focus on Aristotle, but they also pay sufficient attention to Heidegger’s readings of Plato and the pre-Socratics to constitute a good introduction to Heidegger’s interpretation of ancient philosophy.

The chapter on “Being in Aristotle” deals with Heidegger’s reading of Aristotle as a proto-phenomenological thinker whose account of Being implicitly defines Being in relationship to the human knower: “. . . ousia [Being] is the intelligible appearance or meaningful presence (aletheia [truth] and parousia [presence]) of things in logos, and thus that ousia is the openness or availability of things to human beings” (p. 25). When Heidegger read Aristotle in light of Husserl’s account of “categorial intuition” in the Sixth Logical Investigation, Heidegger was able to focus on the phenomenon of intelligible presence (as opposed to mere sense experience), which then led him to his own distinct question: what is the source of intelligible presence? This is the topic of chapter 3.

These chapters are a tour de force. They brought me back to my graduate seminars in Aristotle and rekindled my first feelings of astonishment at Aristotle’s genius. Although this section is quite thorough and illuminating, at 76 pages, it becomes a bit of a slog. Sheehan himself suggests that some readers might be tempted to skip to the second section, on Being and Time, and read the Aristotle chapters later. I followed his advice, and I am glad I did. I think that he should have followed his own advice and made this the third and final section of the book.

Yes, one understands Being and Time better with a background in Aristotle, but that does not mean that we need to read about Heidegger’s interpretation of Aristotle first. All of us read Being and Time first anyway. And we all had questions that were later clarified by understanding Heidegger’s debts to Aristotle, Husserl, etc. Sheehan’s order of exposition could have followed that path of discovery, and his book would have much more accessible for it. 

A New Level of Inquiry?

At the beginning of chapter 3, Sheehan argues that there are three levels to Heidegger’s topic. According to Sheehan, Heidegger’s ultimate topic is: (1) not Being (meaning), (2) not the meaning of Being (the meaning of meaning = the clearing), but (3) the meaning of the meaning of Being (the meaning of the meaning of meaning = the clearing of the clearing). In Sheehan’s words:

Heidegger’s question turns out to be

1. not “Whence beings?” — the answer to that is: being; 2. nor even “Whence being at all?” — the answer to that is: the open clearing; 3. but rather “Whence and how is there ‘the open’?” or equally “Whence and how is there the clearing?” (p. 69)

This is news to me.

Sheehan offers the following quote from Heidegger in support of this:

When the being-question is understood and posed in this way, one must have already gone beyond being itself. Being and another now come into language. This “other” must then be that wherein being has its emergence and its openness (clearing — disclosing) — in fact, wherein openness itself has its own emergence. (p. 69)

For Heidegger, the clearing is the ultimate condition of meaning. It is what makes everything else intelligible. And that means that it itself is not intelligible, meaning that we cannot place it in a wider context, i.e., a clearing of its own. If we could put it in a clearing of its own, then it would not, by that very fact, be the ultimate condition of meaning. This leaves us with two options.

1. First, one can accept that the clearing is unintelligible. Heidegger arrived at this conviction in 1930 in his lecture “On the Essence of Truth,” in which he argued that the ultimate context of meaning cannot be made meaningful. As Sheehan puts it, “the clearing is intrinsically ‘hidden’: always present-and-operative but unknowable in its why and wherefore” (p. 116).
2. Second, one can claim that the clearing makes itself intelligible. And that is what Heidegger seems to be doing in the passage above: the “‘other’ . . . wherein being has its emergence and its openness (clearing — disclosing)” is our clearing. Then he claims that the clearing is “in fact, wherein openness itself [the clearing] has its own emergence.”

Of course, if the clearing is entirely unintelligible, then everything Heidegger says about it is nonsense. It frequently seems that way, but it is not. This implies that something like the second position is true: we “encounter” the clearing “in” the clearing, and although we cannot “get behind” it to make “ultimate” sense of it, we can still say a lot about it. For one thing, we can talk about the functions it performs. For another thing, we can understand why we cannot understand it.

Sheehan interprets the quote from Heidegger as follows:

We note here again the two elements of Heidegger’s own question (1) the move “beyond being” to its “whence” — namely, the clearing; and (2) the move “beyond the clearing” to its “whence” — namely Ereignis as the appropriation of ex-sistence. (p. 69)

I do not, however, think that Ereignis is “beyond the clearing” so much as it is a description from “within” the clearing of how the clearing operates, namely the clearing simply happens, and we can’t get behind it to understand why it happens or what is causing it. Ereignis is another term for the basic inscrutability of the clearing. 

Part Two: The Early Heidegger

Part Two is divided into three chapters: chapter 4, “Phenomenology and the Formulation of the Question”; chapter 5, “Ex-sistence as Openness”; and chapter 6, “Becoming Our Openness.”

The first chapter is a very accessible and engaging account of Heidegger’s basic phenomenological approach to ontology: We are immersed in a world of meaning. The world is always-already meaningful, before we even try to make sense of it. For Heidegger, this world of meaning, this meaningful presence of beings to us (Dasein), is Being. Heidegger’s overriding question is: what makes meaningful presence (Being) possible? What opens man up, allowing the meaningful presence of beings?

The second chapter deals with this question in terms of Being and Time, which aimed “to show that and how meaningful presence — ‘being in general’ — is made possible by and occurs only within human openedness as the clearing” (p. 134). 

Man’s Openedness

Heidegger distinguishes between individual instances of openedness, which he calls Dasein, and the structure of human openedness itself, which he calls Existenz and Da-sein (although he is not always consistent about using the hyphen). Sheehan renders the latter two terms as “ex-sistence,” from the Latin ex + sistere, to be forced to stand ahead or beyond. This forced aspect is captured by “openedness” as opposed to mere “openness.”

On pp. 136-37, Sheehan points out an interesting quote from a posthumously published collection of 1941-42 notes,[2] where Heidegger claims that the “da” in Dasein should not be translated as here, there, here/here, etc. (Which of course would include my preferred rendition “place.”) Instead, Heidegger claims that the “da” is not locative at all, but refers to the “openedness” of human ex-sistence. Of course, I do not think that anyone who translated the “da” as here, there, etc. thinks it refers to a literal place, any more than the clearing is a literal clearing.

Sheehan gives a series of very interesting quotes from Heidegger on the “da”:

[The “da”] should designate the openedness where things can be present for human beings, and human beings for themselves.

. . . being human, as such, is distinguished by the fact that to be, in its own unique way, is to be this openedness.

The human being occurs in such a way that he or she is the “Da,” that is, the clearing of being. (p. 137)

The Da refers to that clearing in which things stand as a whole, in such a way that, in this Da, the being of open things shows itself and at the same time withdraws. To be this Da is a determination of man.

[Ex-sistence] is itself the clearing.

The clearing: the Da – is itself ex-sistence.

The point is to experience Da-sein in the sense that human being itself is the Da, that is, the openedness of being, in that a person undertakes to preserve it, and in preserving it, to unfold it (See Sein und Zeit, p. 132f. [= 170f.]).

Ex-sistence must be understood as being-the-clearing. Da is specifically the word for the open expanse.

Ex-sistence [das Da-sein] is the way in which the open, the clearing, occurs, within which being as cleared is opened up to human understanding. 

To be — the clearing — to be cast into the clearing as the open = to-be-the-Da. (p. 138)

Human ex-sistence means that man is not defined by what he is at present, what is simply there, what is simply actual, what shows up to an outside observer as a being occupying a delimited space at the present time. When we view human ex-sistence from the inside, we realize that to be human means to be forced outside the present, the actual, and into the future, the possible. This compulsion is what Heidegger means by “thrownness.”

This thrownness outside the present and the actual is what makes man “open” to meaning. Humans ex-sist by projecting ahead of themselves a range of possibilities, a range of concrete potential ways of being. These possibilities are given to us by our past. They are also finite: we do not have all possibilities, and the possibilities that we do have cannot be simultaneously realized.

It is only in light of these possibilities that we “return” to what is present and actual and render it meaningfully present. For instance, if look across the prairie and see an oncoming storm, I am “ahead of myself” in appraising what might happen, and in light of those possibilities, what is present shows up to me in terms of its serviceability for shelter or escape.

This temporal structure in which the past creates possibilities in terms of which we render things (past and present) as meaningfully present is the temporality (Zeitlichkeit) of Da-sein, which for Heidegger is the “horizon” of Being (meaning), i.e., that which opens man up, that which creates the space in which meaningful presence is possible. This temporal structure of being thrown into future possibilities and returning to render things meaningfully present is also the structure of logos. In Being and Time, Heidegger equates “the temporality [Zeitlichkeit] of discourse [Rede = logos]” with that of “Dasein [ex-sistence] as such” (quoted on p. 150).

Heidegger describes human ex-sistence by saying that “possibility is higher than actuality” and that human existence is a matter of “excess.” Both of these claims point to the fact that human existence exceeds what is given and actual (to the outside observer). We exceed the actual and present into a realm of future possibilities.

On page 136, Sheehan makes a couple of dubious inferences from these claims.

First, that the priority of possibility over actuality is incompatible with a classical ethics of self-actualization, as if Plato and Aristotle did not recognize that each man has many possibilities besides the actualization of his nature in accordance with virtue; as if Aristotle believed, for example, that one can only hit the mean rather than stray into excess or defect.

Second, he claims that the idea of human ex-sistence being in “excess” of human actuality overturns the Greek idea of moderation (nothing in excess), as if the very notion of temperance did not imply the possibility of excess and defect in the pursuit of pleasure, and as if the very existence of human potentiality refutes the pursuit of virtue when in fact it is what makes it possible and necessary. Heidegger’s “excess” is the space in which virtue, as well as the vices of excess and defect, become possible. 

Becoming Who We Are

The third chapter of Part Two, “Becoming Our Openness,” does extraordinary work in illuminating some of Being and Time’s most alluring yet elusive and obscure ideas, namely its existential and practical (but, as well shall see, not moral) dimension, which is encapsulated in the injunctions of the 17th-century German mystic Angelus Silesius, “Human being, become what you essentially are!” and of Pindar, “Become what you already are!”

Now, as a follower of the Platonic or Aristotelian idea of an ethics of self-actualization, I would interpret what we “already” or “essentially” are as our daimon, our ideal self, which exists in potency and whose actualization is the well-being (eudaimonia) we all seek.

For Heidegger, what we already are is not a single determinate potentiality, but a whole range of possibilities — possibilities that could include self-actualization but also self-betrayal, virtue as well as vice, good as well as evil. Thus the choice Heidegger is discussing is not the moral choice between good and evil, but the existential choice between embracing or rejecting our freedom. And for Heidegger, our freedom means a whole range of possibilities, not just the good ones.

But in what sense are we even faced with such a choice? Long before we are mature enough to reflect upon who we really are, people have been telling us who we are. These external spectators (the crowd) look upon us as actual, present beings and ascribe traits to us: jock, bimbo, nerd, preacher’s kid, etc. Because we don’t know better, we actually come to internalize these traits. But what are the chances that these descriptions actually fit, that they really capture who we are?

But before we can become who we really are — and as an Aristotelian, I think that is meaningful and possible — we need to embrace our freedom, meaning our whole range of possibilities, including the inevitability of our death and the possibility that we might die at any time, which gives a certain urgency to our mission.

“They” tell us that who we are. But when we look within, we discover that we are thrown ahead into a range of future possibilities. We are not what we are (right now), i.e., actuality. Rather, we are what we are not (yet), i.e., possibility. We are free either to accept the fact of our freedom, which is what Heidegger calls authenticity, or to flee it into inauthenticity, which basically boils down to shrugging off the burden of freedom and letting others determine our identity for us.

But what makes our freedom, such as it is, possible? Heidegger’s answer would have to be: the things that determine us, which for him come down to our heritage: our language, culture, traditions, historical epoch, and the like. I would add our genetic heritage as well — our race, our sex, our individual traits — although that is a topic for another time. All of these give us certain possibilities, while making other things impossible. For example, being a prince or a peasant make certain things possible, other things impossible

And since it is in light of these possibilities that what is given becomes meaningfully present, our openedness as a whole is historically conditioned and particularized.

And if authenticity means embracing rather than fleeing our freedom, that is equivalent to embracing rather than fleeing from the heritage that determines us as well as frees us.

Heidegger talks about authentic Dasein “becoming its fate,” but he might as well have said amor fati, for one can come to love our limits when one appreciates that they are the conditions of our freedom.

Heidegger’s own discussion of our relationship to our past is primarily in terms of making our heritage meaningfully present in light of future possibilities, and retrieving/carrying forward certain elements. However, it strikes me that a deeper relationship with our past is implied by authenticity: not picking and choosing elements of our heritage that show up to us within our openedness, but embracing heritage as a condition of openedness — which, as an ultimate condition of intelligibility, remains obscure to us.

The affirmation of a form of historical identity so deeply constitutive of our self and self-consciousness that it can never be objectified, much less criticized or discarded, would place Heidegger in the tradition of anti-rationalist conservatism of David Hume and Edmund Burke. Sheehan — whose own Left-wing, progressivist agenda becomes more apparent as the book goes on — emphasizes the transcendental rather than the historical elements of Heidegger’s account of openedness, and freedom rather than the boundaries that make it possible. 

Part Three: The Later Heidegger

Part Three is divided into three chapters: chapter 7, “Transition: From Being and Time to the Hidden Clearing”; chapter 8, “Appropriation and the Turn”; and chapter 9, “The History of Being.” The first two chapters can be discussed as a unit, because they deal with the same topic: Heidegger’s concept of the “turn” (Kehre) which in its primary sense is identical to his concept of Ereignis.

One of Sheehan’s most important accomplishments is his clarification of the multiple sense of Heidegger’s “turn.” The “turn” is usually thought of as a shift in Heidegger’s thinking, either within Being and Time or between Being and Time and Heidegger’s later thought. Sheehan argues, however, that the fundamental sense of the turn is identical to Ereignis, i.e., it refers to the mutual dependence of man and meaning: meaning cannot exist without man, and man cannot exist without meaning.

The unity of man and meaning can, however, be viewed under different aspects: from the side of man or from the side of meaning. Being and Time was originally planned to have two divisions, each divided into three parts. In 1927, Heidegger published only parts 1 and 2 of division one. Part 3 was not published, and the manuscript was either lost or destroyed. Division two was never begun.

In Being and Time, parts 1 and 2, Heidegger approaches the man/meaning unity from the man side, using the phenomenological method to describe the temporal structure of ex-sistence which opens the space of meaningful presence. In the unpublished part 3, Heidegger was to approach the same unity from the side of meaning. Instead of showing how man opens up the space of meaning, he was to show how the space of meaning claims man. As Heidegger put it, the first parts of Being and Time deal with “human being in relation to the clearing” while part 3 deals with “the clearing and its openness in relation to human being” (quoted in Sheehan, p. 244).

This shift in perspective is often misinterpreted as the turn in Heidegger’s thought. But it is intimately related to the primary sense of the turn: the unity of man/meaning, which allows us to look at it from either side.

Heidegger never published Being and Time, division one, part 3. Sheehan does an important service by gathering all the testimonies about the lost text to reconstruct its outline and contents, to speculate about its teaching, and to explain why it was never published.

In the 1930s, Heidegger’s approach to his abiding topic — what makes meaningful presence possible — shifted from transcendental phenomenology to what he called Seinsgeschichte, which explores the different dispensations of Being/worlds of meaning in Western (and now world) history. This shift is also misinterpreted as the turn in Heidegger’s thought.

However, this turn, like the other, is made possible by the primary sense of the turn. Indeed, the turn within Being and Time and the turn from Being and Time to the late Heidegger are attempts to execute the same shift of perspective: from a transcendental/human-side approach to a meaning-sided approach to the man/meaning unity. Why did the first turn fail, and why did the second take a historical form?

The first turn failed because every discourse requires a context. A phenomenology of human ex-sistence provided the context for the first parts of Being and Time, but when Heidegger set aside the transcendental phenomenological method and the human-centered standpoint, he needed another context, another standpoint, from which to explore the man/meaning relationship from the side of meaning. But he lacked this context at the time he was writing Being and Time.

In 1930, Heidegger came to the realization, discussed above, that if the clearing is the ultimate condition of meaning, it itself remains unintelligible. But, although one cannot get beyond the clearing, perhaps one can say something about it from inside. But how? The outline of Being and Time, division two — which was to be a dismantling of Western ontology, moving from Kant to Descartes to Aristotle — certainly provided a clue.

For Heidegger, meaning embodied in language, culture, and tradition constitutes human consciousness, not vice-versa. But to say more about how history shapes human consciousness, one would have to compare different historical epochs. Heidegger is not, however, interested in ordinary intellectual and cultural history, but in the succession of fundamental interpretive slants — the a priori, i.e., hidden and always-already-operative assumptions about the nature of man and world — that cut through and unify entire cultures and ages. This brings us to Sheehan’s next chapter, “The History of Being,” to which I will attend in due course.

Inflating the Human

Heidegger’s belief that socially embodied meaning constructs individual consciousness — i.e., that consciousness is not “behind” history but history is “behind” consciousness — is the substance of his “anti-humanism.” “Anti-humanism” is something of a misnomer, though, since history and culture are just as “human” as individual consciousness. Heidegger is really opposed to the subject-centered transcendental method and the idea that the individual creates his own world of meaning, as opposed to receiving and passing on collective meanings to which he might contribute some small improvements.[3] The transcendental method also goes hand-in-hand with a dismissal of transcendent metaphysics. Sheehan writes:

The paradox of Being and Time as published is that the finitude of ex-sistence guarantees the infinitude of ex-sistence’s reach. Our structural engagement with meaning is radically open-ended and in principle without closure. Yes, there is an intrinsic limit to that stretch: ex-sistence can encounter the meaning only of material things, for as embodied and thrown, ex-sistence is “submitted” exclusively to sensible things rather than being open to trans-sensible (“meta-physical”) reality. But that notwithstanding, the search for the meanings of spatio-temporal things meets no barrier inscribed “thus far and no farther,” because we can always ask “Why no farther? What am I being excluded from?” and thus transcend the barrier, if only interrogatively. And secondly, yes, ex-sistence is thoroughly mortal and will certainly die, and its death will mark the definitive end to its search for meaning. But although it will surely end, perhaps even tragically, ex-sistence will nonetheless go out with its glory intact, insofar as it will die as an in-principle unbounded capacity for the meaning of everything it can sensibly encounter. (p. 192)

First, it strikes me as vacuous to say that we can make sense of everything by stipulating that one of those “senses” includes awareness that we have not made sense of something. Second, if this notion of the Faustian infinitude of ex-sistence’s reach is an accurate description of Being and Time, parts 1 and 2, it strikes me as precisely the kind of human-centric teaching that was to be modified by the turns in Heidegger’s thinking within Being and Time, and from Being and Time to the later Heidegger.

Indeed, as Sheehan continues to set forth this Faustian interpretation of Heidegger, it looks suspiciously like what Heidegger came to call the “essence” of technology, i.e., the a priori assumption that all beings are in principle knowable and disposable by man:

Structurally and in principle we are able to know everything about everything, even though we never will. Such ever-unrealized omniscience comes with our very ex-sistence. (Husserl: “God is the ‘infinitely distant man.’”) This open-ended possibility is a “bad infinity,” which in this context denotes the asymptosis of endless progress in knowledge and control. Heidegger’s philosophical critique of (as contrasted with his personal opinions about) the modern age of science and technology cannot, on principle be leveled against our ability to endlessly understand the meaning of things and even to bring them under our control, because this possibility is given with human nature, as Aristotle intimated and as Heidegger accepts in principle. What troubles Heidegger, rather, is the generalized overlooking of one’s mortal thrown-openness in today’s Western, and increasingly global, world. The mystery of human being consists in both the endless comprehensibility of whatever we can meet and the incomprehensibility of why everything is comprehensible. Everything is knowable — except the reason why everything is knowable. (p. 193)

The claim that we are able to “know everything about everything” strikes me as every bit as dogmatic as any claim of transcendent metaphysics. (Even if we knew everything about a particular subject, could we ever know that we knew everything?) And since when is “knowing” everything equivalent to “understanding the meaning” of everything, i.e., interpreting everything? Surely this kind of talk — which every academic knows can go on forever — is not necessarily equivalent to endless progress in knowledge.

Sheehan makes it quite clear that he thinks this Faustian viewpoint is not just “early Heidegger” but “late Heidegger” too. He also gives the strong impression that he thinks it is true:

. . . once Heidegger has established this argument about man’s a priori projectedness, he can and must affirm the obvious: that within the limits of our thrownness, we ourselves do indeed decide the meanings of things on our own initiative, whether practically or theoretically. . . . Yes, we are structurally thrown-open; but nonetheless it is we ourselves, as existentiel actors, who decide the current whatness and howness of things, their jeweiliges Sein. What is more, there is in principle no limit to what we can know about the knowable or do with the doable. There should be no shrinking back from the human will, no looking askance at the scientific and technological achievements of existentiel “subjects” in the modern world . . . Underlying the whole of Heidegger’s philosophy is the fact that we cannot encounter anything outside the parameters that define us as human — as a thrown-open, socially and historically embodied logos. But granted that much, we also cannot not make sense of anything we meet, whether in practice or in theory. . . . Heideggerians seem a bit anxious about the practical (not to mention technological) achievements of the existentiel subject — including socio-political projects for “changing the world.” However, as to zoon logon to echon [living beings possessing reason] we possess the power not only to make sense of things cognitively but also to remake the world as we see fit, for better or worse. But we possess that power only because we are possessed by the existential ability to make sense and change the world . . . (pp. 208–9)

This sense of being “possessed” by the ability to know and do anything captures the enthralling quality of every dispensation of Being, including the a priori assumption of technological civilization, which Heidegger calls Gestell or Ge-Stell. (Gestell is another untranslatable bit of Heideggerese which means the a priori assumption that for man everything is transparent and available. This is the “essence” of technology, meaning the prevailing mode of disclosing beings that makes modern technological civilization possible.)

But whereas Sheehan thinks we should be celebrating this worldview, Heidegger sought to awaken us from it, to break the spell. How? By showing us that the idea that everything can be understood and controlled is itself an Ereignis, a dispensation of meaning that we cannot understand or control. And if we can’t know why everything is knowable, isn’t that a refutation of the idea that everything is knowable?

Sheehan himself says: “Everything is knowable — except the reason why everything is knowable,” although he does not draw the conclusion Heidegger would like. If we cannot know why we think we can know everything, then we cannot know everything. Simply put, Heidegger is offering a counter-example to the idea we can know and control everything, and a single counter-example is sufficient to refute a universal generalization.

Heidegger’s counter-example is not, moreover, just a single instance that could be partitioned off as an exception to the rule, for what dispenses modernity is ultimately the whole of Western — and now global — civilization, understood as a realm of embodied meaning. We stand at the center of a circle — or better, a sphere — of meanings shading off into mysteries in all directions, and each time we bring a new mystery into the light, we understand that it is a gift from that which remains concealed.

Deflating the Trans-Human

Sheehan’s tendency to inflate the human (the subject-centered) is matched with a tendency to deflate the trans-human, historical dimensions of Heidegger’s thought. This is particularly evident in his discussion of Ereignis. In keeping with his program of breaking us out of both the egocentrism of the phenomenological method and the vaulting ambitions of the Gestell, Heidegger speaks of Ereignis and the clearing almost as if they have wills of their own. Sheehan, however, dismisses this as merely “reifying” language that:

. . . presents Ereignis or Sein selbst or Seyn as if it were a quasi-something that “catches sight” of human being, calls it into its presence, and makes it its own, as in such unfortunate sentences as . . . . “Er-eignen originally means: to bring something into view, that is, to catch sight of it, to call it into view, to ap-propriate it.” The “something” that is allegedly “brought into view” is ex-sistence; and this hypostatizing language makes it seem that something separate from ex-sistence “sees” ex-sistence and makes it its own property. . . . The danger that constantly lurks in Heidegger’s rich and suggestive lexicon is that his technical terms will take on a life of their own as words and then get substituted for what they are trying to indicate, the way some scholarship treats the clearing (or das Sein selbst) “as if it were something present ‘over against’ us as an object.” Thus Heidegger’s key term Ereignis – especially when English scholarship leaves it in the German — risks becoming a reified thing in its own right, a supra-human Cosmic Something that enters into relations with ex-sistence, dominates it, and sends Sein to it while withholding itself in a preternatural realm of mystery. To avoid such traps and to appreciate what Heidegger means by Ereignis, we must always remember that the term bespeaks our thrown-openness as the groundless no-thing of being-in-the-world, which we can experience in dread or wonder. Above all we should apply Heidegger’s strict phenomenological rule to appropriation itself: “avoid any ways of characterizing it that do not arise out of the personal claims it makes on you.” (pp. 234–35)

But Heidegger’s language does not suggest a false opposition between human ex-sistence and the clearing (which are just two different ways of viewing the same thing). Instead, Heidegger is trying to articulate a real opposition between the individual ego and socially-embodied meaning. Heidegger is trying to communicate that meaning is not created by the individual ego, but instead the individual ego is created by socially-embodied meaning. When individuals reflect upon language, culture, and history, we experience them as things that existed before our consciousness emerged, as things that will continue to exist after our consciousness has ended, and as external forces that envelop and enthrall us. They do stand over against us as objects — and also behind us as conditions of our subjectivity. Ereignis is not a “supra-human Cosmic Something” but a supra-individual Cultural-Linguistic-Historical Something. This something does enter into a relation with each individual Dasein. It does dominate us. It does send worlds of meaning to us while withholding itself in a realm of mystery, a mystery that is not “preternatural” but historical and thus “preterindividual.” This is not, in short, the “reification” of ideas but simply good, honest phenomenology: characterizing the experience of appropriation/the clearing as it actually occurs to us.

There is no question that Heidegger’s writing is highly rhetorical, with a penchant for mystical, religious, and prophetic forms of expression. The desire to get through the rhetoric to what Heidegger is really saying is completely understandable and commendable, and Sheehan has done more than any scholar I know to get to Heidegger’s real message. But once one arrives at this understanding, one cannot merely give Heidegger’s rhetoric the brush-off, like an annoyingly chatty cab driver once he has gotten you to your destination. One has to turn back to the rhetoric and try to understand why Heidegger adopted it in the first place.

One also needs to understand the contents of Heidegger’s teachings to separate the purely psychological dimensions of this thought. Heidegger was clearly an odd duck. He writes repeatedly about aberrant mental states in the 1920s and ‘30s, and in 1945–’46 he suffered a nervous breakdown. Heidegger’s biographers can provide many more psychological details. But before a competent psychiatrist tries to make sense of Heidegger’s psyche, he should read Sheehan to make sense of his thought.

The History of Being

Sheehan’s chapter 9, “The History of Being” and Conclusion, chapter 10, “Critical Reflections,” can be discussed as a unit, because they deal with the same essential subject matter. (Chapter 10 focuses on Heidegger’s essay “The Question Concerning Technology,” which discusses the Gestell, which is the present dispensation in the history of Being.) As usual, Sheehan marshals a host of useful quotations, etymologies, and distinctions.

These chapters deal with Heidegger at his most anti-humanist, anti-modernist, and ultra-conservative. And, as you might already suspect, Sheehan is quite unsympathetic. At one point. Sheehan summarizes what he thinks is of enduring value in Heidegger:

. . . a phenomenological rereading of traditional being as the meaningfulness of things; a persuasive explanation of how we make sense of things, both in praxis and in apophantic discourse; the grounding of all sense-making in the a priori structure of human being as a mortal dynamism of aheadness-and-return; and, based on all of that, a strong philosophical exhortation, in the tradition of Greek philosophical protreptic, to become what we already are and to live our lives accordingly. (p. 267)

This is basically Being and Time, plus a couple of lectures, “What is Metaphysics?” and “On the Essence of Truth,” with a cut-off around the end of 1930.

Heidegger interprets the trajectory of Western — and now global — history as one of decline from classical Greek and Roman civilization to the present day. Heidegger traces this decline in terms of the history of metaphysics, but contra Sheehan, Heidegger does not believe that philosophers are the “hidden legislators” of mankind, i.e., that philosophical ideas are the foundation of culture and the driving force of history. Rather, in keeping with his anti-humanism, Heidegger holds that historical change arises from inscrutable sources, and philosophers, as well as poets like Sophocles and Hölderlin, merely receive and articulate the deepest currents of the Zeitgeist.

As articulated by the pre-Socratics and the Attic tragedians, Heidegger thinks the deepest a priori assumptions of the classical view of the world are that man is a mortal being inhabiting a splendid world bounded by mystery and necessity, boundaries that man cannot transgress in thought or deed without hubris that courts nemesis. The deepest a priori assumptions of modernity are that all boundaries of thought and action, including human mortality itself, are ultimately temporary, i.e., that everything is in principle knowable and controllable by man.

Heidegger’s distinction between the classical and the modern corresponds roughly to Spengler’s distinction between classical and Faustian civilizations, although Heidegger places both within a single historical narrative of decline, whereas Spengler regards them as separate civilizational organisms each of which has undergone its own phase of decline, with the decline of the West still occurring today.

Sheehan points out that Heidegger names only two dispensations in the history of Being, both of them modern: the age of the world picture (the a priori assumptions of early modernity) and the Gestell (the a priori assumptions of present-day global technological civilization).

Sheehan dismisses Heidegger’s claim that the decline of the West is caused by man’s deepening oblivion of the clearing. But setting aside the question of causation, it is actually an accurate description of the decline, for oblivion of the clearing is equivalent to oblivion of human finitude, of the dependence of the individual on collective embodied meaning, and of the ineluctable mystery of the ultimate source of meaning — and all of these are traits of the Gestell. Forgetting the clearing is forgetting one’s place, metaphysically speaking. To the Greeks, this is hubris. Technology, surely, can exist without hubris. But could modernity?

Sheehan presents a wonderful quilt quotation from Heidegger’s 1935 lecture course Introduction to Metaphysics illustrating Heidegger’s conservative lament at the civilizational consequences of modernity:

. . . the hopeless frenzy of unchained technology and the rootless organization of the average man . . . spiritual decline . . . the darkening of the world, the flight of the gods . . . the destruction of the earth, the reduction of human beings to a mass, the preeminence of the mediocre . . . the disempowering of spirit, its dissolution, diminution, suppression, and misinterpretation . . . all things sinking to the same depths, to a flat surface resembling a dark mirror that no longer reflects anything and gives nothing back . . . the boundless etcetera of the indifferent, the ever-the-same . . . the onslaught of what aggressively destroys all rank, every world-creating impulse of the spirit . . . the regulation and mastery of the material relations of production . . . the instrumentalization and misinterpretation of spirit. (p. 282) 

In this same lecture course, Heidegger famously declared that the “inner truth and greatness of National Socialism” was its potential to reverse these tendencies, to preserve human rootedness, distinct identities, and traditional social structures from the deracinating and leveling forces of “global technology.” Sheehan suggests that Heidegger added this comment when he edited the lectures for publication in 1953, but if so, it is consistent with the rest of the lectures, as indicated by Sheehan’s own quilt quotation. (National Socialism falls outside the purview of Sheehan’s book, but he makes sure we know he’s against it.)

Sheehan is also dismissive of Heidegger’s postwar thoughts on the way out of the modern dispensation, particularly in his 1949 lecture “The Turn,” which is obscure even for Heidegger. The lecture also adds to the confusion about Heidegger’s concept of the turn by introducing a new sense of Kehre. This “turn” refers to the advent of the next dispensation of Being, in which mankind awakens “from oblivion of Being, to oblivion of Being.” Here Being refers to the clearing. Oblivion of Being refers to the intrinsic hiddenness of the clearing as well as to our lack of awareness of the intrinsic hiddenness of the clearing. Our awakening, therefore, refers to becoming aware of the intrinsic hiddenness of the clearing, which is equivalent to awakening to the fact that we cannot understand and control the dispensations of Being, which should overthrow the hubristic assumption that we can understand and control everything.

Sheehan again laments the “perverse rhetoric of hypostatization and reification that Heidegger employs, as if Being Itself, after centuries of ‘refusing Itself’ to humankind, suddenly chooses to turn and show Itself” (p. 265). But again, this is Heidegger’s description of how historical change presents itself to him. If the human will cannot control history, but history changes anyway, then history would seem to have a will of its own.

If we cannot control history, then what is the meaning of dissent? If ideas do not shape history, does that imply that dissenting ideas are merely subjective, private, and ineffectual? Not necessarily. Heidegger would have to hold that dissenting ideas are themselves dispensations of Being. If they are out of step with the present dispensation, perhaps they are the first glimmers of a new one. It is not surprising, therefore, that Heidegger occasionally adopts the tone of a prophet. If you find it annoying, just remember that it is far less pretentious than the idea that philosophers are the architects of history.

Heidegger is just one prophet of this new dispensation. It first stirred in 18th-century critics of the Enlightenment like Vico, Rousseau, and Herder. In the 19th century, it was taken up by such movements as Romanticism, Transcendentalism, utopian socialism, the pre-Raphaelites, and Arts and Crafts, as well as various Symbolists, Decadents, and dandies. In the 20th century, it stirred the prophets of deep ecology, agrarianism, and natural living like Aldo Leopold, Savitri Devi, J. R. R. Tolkien, E. F. Schumacher, Wendell Berry, and Carlo Petrini. It overlaps significantly with neo-paganism, Traditionalism, and Western seekers of Eastern wisdom, as well as with mystical and traditional forms of Christianity. It is also at work in the ongoing resistance to globalization, which, according to sociologists Charles Lindholm and José Pedro Zúquete, embraces the European New Right as well as movements of the Left.[4]

We should also remember that the man/meaning relationship is one of mutual dependency. Yes, collective meanings have the advantage in relation to any individual. But meaning depends upon man just as man depends upon meaning. The present dispensation may have claimed and shaped us, but it still needs us to sustain it. That means that each individual faces choices that sustain or undermine the present dispensation.

We sustain it whenever we participate in the global technological system, whenever we demand things that are faster, cheaper, easier, and more available. We undermine it whenever we prefer the local to the global, the beautiful over the useful, the earthy over the plastic, distinct peoples over monoculture and miscegenation, the acceptance of reality over the striving for power, the unique over the mass-produced, the ecosystem over the economic system, etc. Heidegger is just one face in a giant Sgt. Pepper’s collage of anti-modernists, along with generations of Wandervogel and hippies, historical preservationists and organic gardeners, Identitarians and Zapatistas, monkeywrenchers and tree-spikers, druids and swamis, down to flannel-clad hipsters tending bees and brewing beer in Brooklyn. When enough of us live as if the new dispensation is already here, perhaps it will arrive.

Sheehan complains that Heidegger’s account of the a priori assumptions of modernity is not based on fine-grained historical analysis. I guess it seems insufficiently inductive to him. (Yes, the oil industry seems in the grip of world-dominating hubris. But what about the coal industry?) But this seems to miss the point. We will not encounter the a priori assumptions of modernity in front of us, for they are already behind us, within us, structuring how we see the world and ourselves. Since we are all more or less modern men, we can test the truth of Heidegger’s claims simply through self-reflection.

Sheehan dates himself a bit by complaining that the 96 volumes of Heidegger’s Complete Edition published to date make no mention of Kapitalismus — as if Heidegger’s analysis of modernity needed recourse to Marxist buzzwords, as if he had not transcended the opposition of capitalism and socialism and revealed their underlying metaphysical identity.

* * *

Although I am nonplussed by Sheehan’s criticisms of Heidegger, I have some of my own. I am skeptical of his post-Kantian transcendental quarantine of metaphysics. I am skeptical of his biological race-denial and would like to explore his rationale. I am not so sure that the clearing is intrinsically hidden at all, or hidden in a non-trivial way.

But my main objection to Heidegger is his terrible writing. I long ago lost count of the Heideggerian words that actually don’t mean what they seem to mean. Heidegger translator David Farrell Krell recounts, “Occasionally, I would bring [Heidegger] a text of his that simply would not reveal his meaning; he would read it over several times, grimace, shake his head slightly, and say, ‘Das ist aber schlecht!’ (That is really bad!).”[5] I wish I could get back every hour I wasted reading Derrida and Foucault. I don’t feel the same way about Heidegger. But especially with certain works, I feel like those South African miners who have to sift through mountains of rubble for a pocketful of gems. When it comes to making sense of Heidegger, the philosopher was his own worst enemy, which makes Thomas Sheehan’s scholarly career a work of friendship. Making Sense of Heidegger is an indispensable book on an unavoidable thinker.[6]

Notes

1. Martin Heidegger, “The End of Philosophy and the Task of Thinking,” translated by Joan Stambaugh, in On Time and Being, trans. Joan Stambaugh (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), p. 62 and Basic Writings, revised and expanded, ed. David Farrell Krell (New York: HarperCollins, 1993), p. 438.

2. Martin Heidegger, Das Ereignis, ed. Friedrich Wilhelm von Herrmann, Gesamtausgabe, vol. 71 (Frankfurt a.M.: Klostermann, 2009). In English: The Event, trans. Richard Rojcewicz (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2013).

3. Even a Shakespeare’s contributions to the English language are small compared to what he inherited.

4. Charles Lindholm and José Pedro Zúquete, The Struggle for the World: Liberation Movements for the 21st Century (Stanford, Stanford University Press, 2010).

5. David Farrell Krell, “Work Sessions with Martin Heidegger,” Philosophy Today 26 (1982), p. 138.

6. As a book, Making Sense of Heidegger is not particularly attractive, but it is well-edited. I spotted only a few mistakes: p. ix: GA 6 should be Nietzsche, vols. 1 and 2; p. 210: “breaks” should be “brakes”; p. 262: “synchronic” and “diachronic” are reversed.

 

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Article printed from Counter-Currents Publishing: http://www.counter-currents.com

URL to article: http://www.counter-currents.com/2014/12/making-sense-of-heidegger/

URLs in this post:

[1] Image: http://www.counter-currents.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/SheehanCover2.jpg

[2] Making Sense of Heidegger: A Paradigm Shift: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1783481196/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1783481196&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=MFB4TFB6UGTXA3QC

[3] Otto Pöggeler: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0391036165/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0391036165&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=ZPMKXW3NT34XPK5E

[4] Graeme Nicholson: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0391040162/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0391040162&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=7AIWHTOM6APM5UME

[5] Michael Zimmerman: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0253205581/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0253205581&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=IZ2GJZ7YR3UL5H4S

[6] Richard Polt: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0801485649/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0801485649&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=JLH6XS5DXZ4KEIOA

[7] Thomas Sheehan: http://religiousstudies.stanford.edu/people/tom-sheehan/publications/

[8] Karl Rahner: The Philosophical Foundations: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0821406841/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0821406841&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=XCYALCQLMK4E5U6B

[9] The First Coming: How the Kingdom of God Became Christianity: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0394511980/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0394511980&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=RQJJPA34JP3GNFSW

[10] Julius Evola: http://religiousstudies.stanford.edu/wp-content/uploads/1986-DIVENTARE-DIO-EVOLA-NIETZSCHE-HEIDEGGER.pdf

[11] Alain de Benoist,: http://religiousstudies.stanford.edu/wp-content/uploads/1981-MYTH-AND-VIOLENCE-Part-I.pdf

[12] The Emergency of Being: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0801479231/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0801479231&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=NJPTKIC7O77R43IU

[13] Heidegger’s Roots: Nietzsche, National Socialism, and the Greeks: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0801472660/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0801472660&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=RFMQEB3RJFMA2FQU

[14] Heidegger’s Later Philosophy: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0521006090/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0521006090&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=SKA2FPQKGCWBDAWV

[15] Heidegger’s Hut: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0262195518/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0262195518&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=3JUYH4MLG37XBLAN

[16] Dugin’s dreadful book: http://www.counter-currents.com/2014/11/dugin-on-heidegger/

[17] beyond Being: http://www.counter-currents.com/2014/10/heideggers-question-beyond-being/

[18] Image: http://www.counter-currents.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/clearing-lighting.jpg

H. Juvin: La liquidation du monde pour fabriquer des richesses

 

Hervé Juvin:

"La fin du XXe siècle, c'est la liquidation du monde pour fabriquer de la richesse"

 

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L’abstraction, force ou faiblesse des Européens?

par Clément Martin

Ex: http://fr.novopress.info

NICE (NOVOpress)
Il est communément admis que l’intelligence s’appuie sur deux piliers: la capacité à mener un raisonnement abstrait et le raisonnement logique. Plus radical, le psychologue Lewis Terman, connu pour avoir participé à l’approfondissement du test de QI Stanford-Binet au début du XX^ème siècle, affirmait que l’intelligence d’un individu était sa seule capacité à mener un raisonnement abstrait. Robert Sternberg, président de l’Association des psychologues américains n’hésitait pas lui à affirmer que c’en était même le premier signe d’ingéniosité. Ainsi, le fondement même de l’intelligence, et donc des capacités créatrices, reposerait sur cette capacité d’abstraction.

Les Européens l’ont brillamment exploitée durant des siècles, autant à travers leur production artistique (la fresque de la chapelle Sixtine, les œuvres de Boticelli), qu’intellectuelle ou philosophique (Aristote, saint Thomas d’Aquin), ou bien encore architecturale (Versailles, l’escalier à double révolution). On retrouve aussi cette faculté à pousser loin le raisonnement abstrait dans le génie militaire d’un Napoléon ainsi que dans la conquête spatiale durant la deuxième moitié du XX^ème siècle.

Mais cette force qui a fait la suprématie de la civilisation européenne se retourne aujourd’hui contre elle-même, c’est-à-dire contre nous. Au fil des siècles, cette capacité d’abstraction, qui nous a fait exceller dans tant de domaines et permis à notre culture de rayonner sur le monde, nous emmène vers des théories absurdes et suicidaires.

La pensée aristotélicienne classique ou “philosophie réaliste” part de l’expérience pour en tirer des principes fondamentaux. Cela présuppose que le monde est structuré, ordonné rationnellement, et que notre raison peut abstraire et connaître cet ordre. Avec Descartes, le réel tel que nous le percevons est mis en doute, c’est sur le sujet pensant que se fondent désormais la connaissance, la morale et le droit. Les philosophes des Lumières au XVIII^ème siècle siècle consacrent quant à eux la primauté de la Raison sur le réel. L’idée pure est détachée de toute réalité, c’est la victoire de l’abstraction sur l’expérience sensible. Faisant fi de l’empirisme, de la réalité et les structures traditionnelles deviennent ainsi des entraves à la réalisation de leurs nouvelles idéologies. Elles doivent être donc détruites pour laisser place à une société basée uniquement sur des idées. C’est le début de la dérive, l’abstraction devenant idéologie, puis système pour enfin finir comme grille de lecture unique.

Aujourd’hui, toute l’idéologie moderne des médias et de l’ensemble des différentes classes politiques des pays occidentaux a porté à son paroxysme cette grave déformation. Les décisions sont prises uniquement par idéologie malgré les graves conséquences qu’elles ont dans le réel. L’abstraction seule compte tandis que tout ce qui est concret, démontré et authentique est balayé. Ceux qui agissent ainsi ne font jamais le bilan critique de leurs actions: ça induirait de se remettre en question… Les politiques qu’ils mettent en oeuvre ne sont jamais disséquées, décortiquées, ou passées au crible de l’analyse critique. Tout pragmatisme leur échappe totalement, il ne s’agit pas pour eux de voir ce qui marche ou ne marche pas, mais de savoir si leurs choix correspondent à leur grille de lecture idéologique faussée. Un des exemples les plus frappants est la théorie du gender. Selon ses propagandistes, les genre masculin et féminin n’existeraient pas, ils ne seraient qu’une «construction sociale» (donc à abolir et détruire, puisque source d’oppression et d’entraves au bonheur humain). Libre à chacun, quel que soit son sexe biologique de naissance, de se revendiquer homme ou femme. Cette théorie délirante est actuellement discutée, quand elle n’est pas carrément promue et mise en avant. On a ici toute l’illustration des limites de la pensée abstraite : afin d’arriver à l’égalité totale de l’homme et de la femme, on nie leurs différences biologiques. Nos apprentis sorciers ne considèrent pas la résistance du réel comme un frein et l’attribue à l’incapacité des hommes à sortir de leurs préjugés. C’est ici que se met alors en place tout l’appareil de propagande (pseudo intellectuels, médias, relais dans l’Éducation nationale, etc) et de techniques (contraception, hormones de synthèse, chirurgie esthétique) qui n’a d’autre but que de tordre la réalité pour la faire entrer dans son moule idéologique. Évidemment, l’échec est total, l’idéologie et l’abstraction pure ne pesant d’aucun poids face à la nature et l’anthropologie.

Mais la menace est beaucoup plus globale. Au delà du gender, les idéologies actuelles du métissage harmonieux, de la société multiculturelle facteur de paix, ou bien encore des pseudo distinctions savantes entre islam et islamisme relèvent toutes de ce même pêché originel : imaginer une réalité telle qu’on la souhaiterait et non pas tel qu’elle est. C’est le triomphe de l’abstrait sur le tangible. Face à cette société en ruines que la génération 68 nous a laissé, les Identitaires ne veulent justement pas tomber dans le piège de créer une contre-idéologie. Notre peuple n’en a que trop souffert. Il faut redonner la primauté au réel face aux pensées dogmatiques. C’est en acceptant enfin de le voir tel qu’il est, à commencer par le fait que les identités profondes sont l’un des principaux moteurs de l’histoire, que nous pourrons agir avec pragmatisme, nous relever, et reprendre le flambeau de notre civilisation afin de lui faire connaître la renaissance. Elle le mérite !

Clément Martin,
conseiller fédéral de Génération Identitaire,
membre de Nissa Rebela
@_ClMartin

Lille, 27 juin 2014: Révolution conservatrice

ROBERT STEUCKERS

La révolution conservatrice allemande (extrait)

Lille, 27 juin 2014

(conférence prononcée avec une solide angine de poitrine; amusant de se revoir alors que l'on est là, à l'article de la mort, en présence de la Camarde, envoyée promener au nom de Heidegger, de Mohler, du "kaïros". Eugène Krampon a eu le mot qu'il fallait: "T'as failli faire comme Molière! Mourir sur scène! Quel artiste tu fais!).

 

Una antropología de la Técnica. Consideraciones spenglerianas.

Una antropología de la Técnica.

Consideraciones spenglerianas.

Carlos Javier Blanco Martín

[e-mail]

Ex: http://www.revistalarazonhistorica.com

Resumen: En este ensayo revisamos la idea de Técnica, sirviéndonos especialmente de las aportaciones de Oswald Spengler. Tratamos de su conexión con la ciencia, y la cuestión del supuesto relativismo spengleriano. También discutimos el tema de la continuidad entre mito, religión y ciencia, y el diverso sentido que estas tres ideas pueden tomar en nuestra civilización, la civilización occidental o fáustica. La degradación de la civilización fáustica expresada en la existencia del hombre-masa, incita a fijar nuevos conceptos sobre el significado actual de la técnica.

Abstract: In this paper we review the idea of ​​Technique, especially through the contributions of Oswald Spengler. We try to connect Technique with science, and the question of alleged Spengler relativism. We also discussed the issue of continuity between myth, religion and science, and the different sense that these different three ideas can take in our civilization, Western or Faustian civilization. The degradation of the Faustian civilization is expressed in the existence of the mass-man, encourage us to set new concepts about the current meaning of Technique.

Matizaciones en torno al universalismo o relativismo de la ciencia.

Las palabras de Spengler han sido mal interpretadas, con harta frecuencia, en un sentido relativista. De acuerdo con el relativismo, no habría una “ciencia universal” válida para todas las culturas y civilizaciones, cada una de estas culturas y civilizaciones poseerá su verdad. Contra el relativismo, y a favor del universalismo, se podría alegar que los cohetes espaciales chinos se lanzan en base a cálculos y teorías de la Física pertenecientes a un mismo corpus epistémico, no distinto del europeo, americano, ruso. Igualmente, los científicos nucleares iraníes comparten la misma ciencia, y pueden llevar dicha ciencia a las mismas realizaciones prácticas que los de cualquier otro ámbito cultural de la humanidad. Hay, en sus realizaciones, una universalidad en la ciencia. Pero este pretendido universalismo de la ciencia contemporánea arrastra un lastre habitual en nuestros días de “globalización”. El lastre se denomina “presentismo”. Se vive como si no existiera la Historia, como si se borrara de forma completa el proceso de desarrollo de cada una de las culturas y civilización hasta llegar al caótico horno y a la efervescente olla que es el mundo hoy. La ciencia físico-química, precisamente en lo que hace a sus aplicaciones prácticas, a sus extensiones tecnológicas, es de facto un conocimiento y recetario universal que, dentro de civilizaciones diversas, ya está a libre disposición de todos los hombres. Véase que ya en la Antigüedad y en el Medievo, los avances armamentísticos se universalizaban y no precisamente para traer paz y concordia entre los pueblos. Sustancialmente no hay diferencias en estos tiempos que corren: Occidente, con todo su potencial fáustico unilateralmente orientado hacia un capitalismo tecnológico está creando las bombas y los aparatos con los que, mañana, otro día, los islámicos o los orientales podrán esclavizarlo. Esta es la lección de Spengler que podemos leer en sus libros.

En una mirada histórica, no presentista, se observa que hay “una” física apolínea (antigua, griega), “una” física mágica (árabe), “una” física fáustica (europea). Esta evidencia histórica no guarda relación con una platónica concepción de la verdad, con un realismo de la índole que sea. Lo que Spengler quiere decirnos es que las tres ciencias físicas que fueron posibles son mutuamente incomprensibles, cada una verá a la otra como un simple depósito de vaguedades y nociones abstrusas. Como sucede con la moral y con el arte, hay tantas “físicas” como culturas y civilizaciones sean posibles, pues con la ciencia acontece lo mismo que con cualquier otra creación del alma del hombre: ésta se realiza y se expresa a partir del suelo donde arraiga y a partir de los derroteros que el sino ha trazado para esa cultura. Bien es cierto que nos encontramos en el trance de una “civilización universal”, pero este trance es asintótico, y una vez que se llegue a cierto punto de fusión, la olla puede reventar y el proceso puede revertir. Nada garantiza (pues el sino es inescrutable) que esa civilización universal haya de triunfar, ni tampoco lo contrario. Y precisamente porque los factores más rápidamente universalizables (armamento, tecnología deshumanizadora, depredación capitalista) son los más genocidas, siempre cabe aguardar a una protesta venida desde los elementos más hondos de cada especie de alma, una verdadera revuelta de la raíz contra la hojarasca inmunda. Esa reacción identitaria, esa “vuelta a las raíces”, nunca es del todo descartable. No en la Europa decadente de nuestros días, que ha sido, bien mirada, la exportadora de sus creaciones, la ciega y estúpida engendradora de armas mortíferas con las que ella misma se suicida. No cabe esperar del Islam o de cualquier otra civilización rival del occidente europeo un giro dulcificado en su devenir, una vez que adopten la ciencia tecnológica que nació con Galileo y siguió con Newton, Born y Max Planck. Los nuevos "bárbaros" tomarán esto, pero en el montón de sus basuras arrojarán las ideas de democracia, derechos humanos, tolerancia y respeto a la persona. La propia tradición filosófica occidental, la irradiación misma que “el milagro griego” supuso para el mundo se rebaja a la condición de mera “literatura” cuando olvida el verdadero bloque compacto que fue el Racionalismo una vez que nació en Grecia hace 2.600 años.

Mito, Religión y Ciencia: continuidades.

 

En La Decadencia de Occidente de Oswald Spengler se muestra con claridad que entre la ciencia -como actividad teórica- y la religión hay una identidad de fondo. Las teorías de los físicos, sus entes teóricos (átomos, fuerzas, energía) son algo más que “abstracciones”. Son inobservables, suprasensibles en el mismo sentido en que podemos decir que son númina, esto es, divinidades. La ciencia no rompe con el mito (dando a la palabra mito todo su sentido de “siempre verdad”, y no el moderno y degradado sentido de “precursor falso de la verdad”). La actividad epistémica del hombre hunde sus raíces en las conductas animales y en la experiencia sensible de éstos, por supuesto. Entre el “ver” de un águila cuando localiza su presa, y la aprehensión del objeto teórico por parte del investigador, hay toda una continuidad, que no se puede negar. El anima,l al cazar o al preparar sus refugios, ya está manifestando de manera incipiente su condición de animal técnico, aunque es la reflexión por parte del sujeto la que deberá dar paso a la teoría:

“En el hombre, esta experiencia de los sentidos se ha condensado y profundizado en el sentido de experiencia visual. Pero al establecerse la costumbre de hablar con palabras, la intelección se separa de la visión y sigue desenvolviéndose independiente, en forma de pensamiento: a la técnica de la comprensión momentánea sigue la teoría, que representa una re-flexión. La técnica se orienta hacia la proximidad visible y la necesidad inmediata. La teoría se orienta hacia la lejanía, hacia los estremecimientos de lo invisible. Junto al breve saber de cada día, viene a colocarse a fe. Y, sin embargo, el hombre desarrolla un nuevo saber y una nueva técnica de orden superior: al mito sigue el culto. El mito conoce los númina; el culto los conjura. La teoría en sentido sublime, es completamente religiosa. Solo mucho después, en épocas muy posteriores, el hombre separa de la teoría religiosa la teoría física, al adquirir conciencia de los métodos. Pero, aparte de esto, poco es lo que cambia. El mundo imaginado por la física sigue siendo mitológico (...)” [LDO, I, 544-545] [1]

En los tiempos arcaicos, justo cuando la planta que damos en llamar Cultura, es una joven creación que se levanta por encima del suelo, y extiende sus primeros brotes (así los griegos de Homero, así los germanos y los celtas en su época prerromana) hay toda una labor colectiva de mitopoiesis. El pueblo, más que los poetas, crea sus dioses, su Olimpo, su Walhalla, a partir de su sentido de la vista y de su radicación en un solar. Cuando estos pueblos son móviles, migrantes, como acontece con los indoeuropeos, su experiencia itinerante les va enriqueciendo sin perder del todo aquellas primeras impresiones de un solar primigenio (Urheimat). El precedente del filósofo es el mitólogo, “conocedor” de los dioses, poeta que sabe dar el paso desde la cercanía a la lejanía. El precedente del sacerdote, ejecutor de ritos y maestro del culto debido a los dioses es, por el contrario, el sacerdote. El sacerdote conjura (beschwören) esos dioses, los invoca para atraérselos, por así decir. La ciencia moderna, la actual física que nos habla de átomos, fuerzas, energías fundamentales, ha desplegado una “nueva mitología”, por tanto, un complicado Olimpo que sólo los sabios más especializados surgidos de la Universidad pueden detallar y comprender. El tecnólogo, el científico aplicado, será quien les rinda culto y domine las prescripciones necesarias para su invocación.

Debemos insistir: estas continuidades, que tampoco Spengler cifra en clave darwinista, entre ver y comprender, mito y teoría, religión y ciencia, no significan un relativismo. Significan una comprensión de la ciencia contemporánea –y muy especialmente nuestra física fáustica- en un amplio contexto histórico-cultural. No hay por qué desvirtuar a Spengler con prejuicios realistas o platónicos en torno al carácter inmutable o no de nuestros conocimientos sobre la naturaleza. La física “mágica” de la cultura árabe era la verdad para aquella cultura, así como la física “apolínea” era la verdad para los griegos. El pensamiento alquimista y sustancialista no puede ser comprendido hoy, desde nuestra mentalidad dinámica y direccional- nuestra alma fáustica- así como nada entenderemos de la estática de los griegos si perseveramos en verla como un antecedente de nuestra dinámica.

Con todo, la subordinación de la ciencia a la tecnología, la integración de toda la física en el seno del complejo industrial, ha arrojado al “sabio” especialista de su pedestal sacerdotal. Acaso es el cosmólogo el único ejemplo de “sabio” actual que se deja arropar por un manto sacro y un aura de mitopoeta, pues la cosmología declina por su propia naturaleza el carácter aplicado, indaga sobre “los orígenes”. Teorías como la del Big Bang o los universos paralelos, especulaciones en torno al número de dimensiones del universo, las “estructuras últimas” de éste, la existencia de un “más allá” de los agujeros negros, la esencia oculta del tiempo y la materia oscura, etc. retrotraen la ciencia a los tiempos balbucientes de la filosofía presocrática, sin peder un ápice de aquel carácter mitopoético de que aquella gozaba todavía, sustituyendo (como empezó a hacerse en la Jonia de hace 2.600 años) los númina por conceptos, por un logos despersonificado. El carácter críptico, la oscuridad que un día dio fama a Heráclito y demás sabios de la antigüedad, hoy viene dado por el complejo andamiaje matemático que disimula, en realidad, la inevitable tendencia mitopoética y fáustica de nuestros cosmólogos.

Por supuesto, en la enseñanza primaria, secundaria, y en la propia universidad, antes de toda especialización, la “ciencia” sigue ofreciéndose en forma de parcelas y recetarios, yuxtaponiéndose toda clase de procedimiento técnico, “servil”. La metafísica, la sabiduría de los primeros principios y causas, aunaba (al tiempo que separaba) la Historia y la Naturaleza. En su fase griega era el estudio del ser en cuanto tal ser, sin Historia, el estudio de lo ya sido. La Naturaleza pasa a ser “eterno pretérito”, saber sobre lo producido: saber de dónde viene algo. La Historia, por el contrario, es el saber del adónde vamos: el sino. La ciencia de la naturaleza no puede ser vivida, sólo pensada. La Historia, en cambio, es vivida y lanzada hacia adelante.[2]

La Historia suele ser definida como “ciencia del pasado”, y nada más opuesto al enfoque de Spengler, para quien su estudio –en sentido morfológico y en una visión metaempírica- es en realidad la ciencia del eterno futuro, el eterno devenir (ewiges Werden, ewiges Zukunft). Pero somos víctima del moderno intelectualismo, un intelectualismo que nada tiene que ver con el pensamiento ontológico clásico de los griegos y escolásticos. Cuando Kant denomina a la causalidad “forma necesaria del conocimiento” [3], hay, en esta expresión, un evidente intelectualismo una restricción del significado de la palabra causalidad. El producirse, a partir del siglo XIX, vino a confundirse con lo producido. Esto último, lo “ya sido”, el conjunto de los hechos de la naturaleza, sirve de modelo para la Historia, ciencia de la vida y del producirse. Spengler dice que esta frontera borrada ha sido propia de una “espiritualidad decadente, urbana, habituada a la coacción de la causalidad” [LDO, 236][4]

El hombre de la gran ciudad, el hombre “civilizado” se ha formado en universidades y centros técnicos especializados, centros que ejercen una coacción mental (Denkzwang), una rigidez mecánica del espíritu. Triunfa el espíritu mecánico sobre el orgánico. El cientifismo aplicado a la Historia (vide: el materialismo histórico o el positivismo) busca la “ley”, acaso sustituida ahora por la finalidad, su remedo. De toda la ontología del devenir humano y del destino no logra otra cosa que un engranaje. [5]

Nacimiento del alma fáustica.

De lo que se trata es de situar la moderna ciencia física en el curso de desarrollo de la cultura fáustica, ya devenida civilización a partir, digamos, de las guerras napoleónicas a principios del siglo XIX. La cultura fáustica surge en el trayecto que va desde el siglo VIII al siglo X, y sus expresiones artísticas más imponentes ya pueden verse en los estilos arquitectónicos del románico y el gótico. Las creaciones del feudalismo, la Iglesia medieval, la Monarquía Asturiana, Carlomagno, el Sacro Imperio Romano Germánico, la Escolástica, etc., son sus correspondientes en el terreno institucional. Las semillas de la ciencia fáustica más esplendorosa del barroco (la dinámica y la Monadología de Leibniz, las fluxiones de Newton) ya están presentes in nuce en aquella feliz síntesis de germanismo “bárbaro” y cristiandad latina que va surgiendo de las oscuridades del siglo VIII. Una Cristiandad acosada, desde el Sur y desde el Oriente por el Islam, desde el norte por los vikingos. Aparentemente empequeñecida, a la defensiva, tímida y parapetada tras las selvas y fortalezas que todavía no son los sólidos castillos murados que vemos florecer a lo largo de la Edad Media. Pero una cristiandad, como aquella de la Liébana de Asturias donde Beato amonesta –nada menos- que al metropolitano de Toledo, viviendo éste bajo dominación musulmana y en cierta connivencia con ella. Esa Cristiandad rural que sobrevive gracias al valor de su sangre, de su ethnos y de una fe incólume que ya no es la fe “mágica” de la mozarabía, de los eremitas rupestres del periodo visigodo, de los cristianos del viejo Mare Nostrum, de un Bizancio decadente, ya orientalizado, “arábigo”, o de un mahometanismo pujante.

Es el cristianismo fáustico, a decir de Spengler, el que hizo de este conglomerado de pueblos celtogermánicos y latinos una Europa de Occidente a calificar como entidad cultural por derecho propio. Y de forma magistral e intuitiva el filósofo alemán asocia el origen de la arquitectura cristiana fáustica con las selvas del norte y las impresiones que el alma del germano balbuciente en su nueva fe, pudo obtener de ellas. En la propia península ibérica, donde se dan dos climas y dos religiones, es el Norte el que se comunica plenamente con la Europa carolingia y celtogermánica. En ese corredor que, desde el mar cantábrico hasta las grandes llanuras nórdicas, se llena de selvas y, acaso, riscos, el alma del hombre se impresiona por los fenómenos de la naturaleza, el misterio de los bosques, las tempestades, los mares bravos. [6]

El arábigo hubo de retroceder ante los paisajes agrestes y, para él, terribles de los (nunca mejor llamados) Picos de Europa en 718 (o 722). Poco después, el arte asturiano, partiendo de técnicas constructivas romanas pero plagado de mil influjos más, sin excluir el arte local, preanuncia los derroteros de una nueva espiritualidad, buscando la verticalidad y la afirmación fáustica. La verticalidad del gótico, el estilo del lejano Norte, ya es producto del alma que creció en las grandes selvas europeas.

“Los cipreses y los pinos producen la impresión de cuerpos euclidianos; no hubieran podido ser nunca símbolos del espacio infinito. El roble, el haya, el tilo, con sus vacilantes machas de luz en los espacios llenos de sombra, producen una impresión incorpórea, ilimitada, espiritual” [LDO, I, 546].[7]

Algunos autores han señalado interesantes parecidos y diferencias entre Spengler y Ortega:

“No es posible separar al hombre de sus circunstancias. En este sentido, la reflexión sobre la técnica no es sólo una parte de un sistema mayor, un sistema en el que vive el hombre, y donde no es posible separar la voluntad de vivir de la complejidad de las relaciones sociales. Lo individual y la historia están tan unidos que no es posible aislar a los unos de los otros. [...] primero, para reflexionar sobre la técnica se debe describir la naturaleza antropológica del hombre. Ambos empiezan por describir a un hombre sin un lugar en el mundo. Cazador inestable, hambriento de poder y pleno de voluntad para lograr sus deseos. Un hombre en una lucha constante con su entorno natural. Un hombre que no puede existir sin someter todo lo que encuentra. Ortega y Spengler están lejos del cristianismo. Sin embargo, su visión del hombre, nos parece, es un reflejo de la mentalidad que se centra en el hombre y que proviene principalmente de la traducción cultural judeo-cristiana. Segundo, el medio ambiente en el que el hombre vive es hostil. Continuamente opuesto a la voluntad de vivir del hombre. Un entorno natural en el que el hombre es un cuerpo extraño. Un entorno natural donde la opción es la sumisión o la muerte. Tercero, la técnica es un reflejo de la voluntad de poder. La técnica se utiliza para llevar a cabo los deseos del hombre. La principal diferencia es que Spengler es más determinista y pesimista que Ortega. Para Spengler, toda la historia está obligada a decaer, y la técnica es sólo una fase de esta decadencia. En Ortega, la técnica es un peligro, pero es también una posibilidad. La técnica es una forma vacía, que puede llenarse con la desesperación y la estupidez, o puede ser una herramienta útil para lograr los propósitos del hombre. En este sentido, Spengler es más determinista que Ortega.” [8].

En suma, la visión del hombre como cazador, como depredador rebelde, que se enfrenta a la naturaleza, lucha contra ella e impone su instinto de rapiña, excluye el hecho -milenario en años- de que gran parte de la humanidad ha llevado a cabo una existencia campesina, pacífica, sobrepuesta a los ciclos naturales de la vida, regulándolos y adaptándose a ellos. Piro, en cambio, resalta la visión más abierta, más optimista, de una humanidad que –ciertamente- puede dejarse dominar por una técnica vacía de contenido o instrumentalizada por intereses espurios, aborrecibles, pero una técnica que, a su vez, igualmente puede ponerse al servicio de la felicidad humana. De momento, Ortega ve, a la altura ya de los comienzos del siglo XX, cómo la técnica es la que da cabal explicación del imperio de la masa.

Degeneración del alma fáustica y producción del hombre-masa.

La democracia del siglo XX ya no es, como en el XIX, el imperio de la opinión (doxa), el imperio de la prensa escrita y de las élites burguesas que dicen hablar en nombre de todos. A fin de cuentas, aquellos lectores de periódicos del siglo XIX eran personas semi-instruidas que podían pastorear a grandes masas incultas. El poder del Capital requería de la prensa y de la creación de opinión. Había una nueva aristocracia del dinero y de la ideología por sobre la aristocracia vieja de la tierra y la sangre. Incluso en las clases trabajadoras, los líderes socialistas a veces eran hombres selectos de entre la fábrica y los sectores menesterosos, individualidades nacidas para ser aristócratas del espíritu, con capacidad de mando. Spengler y Ortega no abandonan nunca, nos parece, el fundamental legado aristotélico en materia política, la ley natural que ha de regir incluso los sistemas que se dicen democráticos: “hay hombres nacidos para mandar y hay hombres nacidos para obedecer”. Sin embargo, la libertad de ambas clases de hombres quedaría garantizada si los que mandan de hecho son los más capacitados, dignos y merecedores del mando. Creemos que en este aspecto, Ortega aboga por una antropología menos agresiva y deprimente, más proclive a la corrección de la democracia, entendida como el justo gobierno del pueblo y por el pueblo bien entendido que en este “pueblo” hay élites, hay aristocracias del espíritu a las que es preciso nuevamente convocar y alentar, pues fueron las masas indóciles y las ideologías decimonónicas las que desalojaron del timón a los capitanes más preparados. En este contexto, de donde La Meditación sobre la Técnica spengleriana es una obra que se enmarca perfectamente en La Rebelión de las Masas, orteguiana, la técnica en cuanto instrumento vacío de contenido, o quizá como peligro mefistofélico, aparece como posibilidad: la renuncia a toda técnica nos lleva directamente a la barbarie, o a utopías suicidas. Sería macabro ver cómo la Europa “fáustica” que desarrollara toda la técnica moderna se entregaría a una existencia muelle, de desnudez cínica o ecologista, mientras los integristas islámicos o las “potencias emergentes” acaparan todo el saber en materia de armas nucleares, control por satélites, balística intercontinental. La técnica, una vez desarrollada, admite muy mal los pasos atrás, y –de otra parte- marca exigencias no solo agresivas, en la línea del hombre-depredador de Spengler, sino también defensivas. Una nueva civilización, o una drástica reordenación del mundo, si incluye una vida más sencilla y una reducción de la voracidad consumista actual, no podrá permitirse el lujo de renunciar a los desarrollos tecnológicos destinados a garantizar la defensa ante toda índole de amenazas, ya vengan éstas de un orden natural ya procedan de conflictos antropológicos, o de la combinación de ambas clases de amenazas.

Dialéctica entre arraigo y conquista.

La caracterización spengleriana del hombre como animal de rapiña constituye una tesis anti-intelectualista. No es el intelecto lo que pone en la cima zoológica al hombre, sostiene Spengler, sino su máxima movilidad, su insaciable afán de cobrar presa, la astucia y previsión, el acecho y la táctica. En todos estos rasgos el ser humano supera a los demás animales, incluyendo a los mejores mamíferos cazadores. La inteligencia más bien sería producto secundario y derivado de la táctica (término militar que Spengler retrotrae a la zoología). De hecho, no hay necesidad de máquinas o herramientas para poder hablar de técnica. Es más bien el uso de las mismas, la conducta con fines depredadores, lo que determina la existencia de una técnica. Acaso el trabajo coordinado de los cazadores prehistóricos, antes que sus armas, configuró ya la técnica en un verdadero sentido spengleriano. Esto es interesante, porque aleja a Spengler del materialismo y del objetivismo cultural. Nuestra civilización es técnica no tanto por la producción y acumulación de artefactos, sino por el uso esencial de tácticas, que incluyen colaboración con otros sujetos, así como su control, sometimiento y dominación, junto con las máquinas y artefactos que se precisen. Toda la dialéctica de la alienación (Hegel, Feuerbach, Marx), y en concreto, la alienación del hombre bajo el dominio de la máquina, haciéndose él mismo cosa, objetivándose como cosa al servicio de las máquinas que él mismo ha creado, quedaría aquí reinterpretada: el hombre es el creador, también es el rebelde que inventa, “ingenia” constantemente. Los trámites y procesos parciales en los que el hombre se vuelve esclavo de otros hombres y aun de las máquinas, serían necesarios para la consecución de nuevas cumbres y presas en el depredador humano. Todo ello proviene de la propia zoología. La planta, de nula movilidad, sólo proporciona un escenario para la verdadera lucha por la vida. En los animales superiores, la oposición y complementariedad entre herbívoros y mamíferos adelanta, a su vez, el sedentarismo campesino frente al nomadismo del guerrero (el “noble”). En realidad, las culturas tal y como las entiende Spengler, “plantas” que arraigan en un solar primigenio, son fruto de una síntesis dialéctica entre estos elementos más sedentarios y vegetativos (aldeanos) y los más móviles y depredadores (nobles, guerreros). Es preciso nutrirse de unos elementos minerales, térreos, atmosféricos, paisajísticos, etc. para ir conformando el alma de una cultura en su estado naciente. El bosque para el germano, el desierto para el semita, las estepas para el mongol, etc. pero este alimento de la cultura balbuciente no basta: hace falta el desenvolvimiento: las correrías, las invasiones, la medición de fuerzas con los enemigos y la estabilización de fronteras. Una dialéctica entre arraigo y conquista. Entre la casa y el terruño (factor femenino) y la expedición de caza (factor masculino y móvil).

La técnica como causa de la alienación pero como motor para la conquista. 

Hoy, un “gran hombre”, no puede dejar de lado las relaciones entre la técnica y la civilización. Los filósofos profesionales, ocupados de pequeñeces, que para Spengler podrían ser la lógica, la teoría del conocimiento o la psicología, hoy, son personajes que dan vergüenza:

“...si dejando a estos grandes hombres volvemos la mirada hacia los filósofos actuales, ¡qué vergüenza!, ¡qué insignificancia personal!, ¡qué mezquino horizonte práctico y espiritual! El mero hecho de figuramos a uno de ellos en el trance de demostrar su principado espiritual en la política, en la diplomacia, en la organización, en la dirección de alguna gran empresa colonial, comercial o de transportes, nos produce un sentimiento de verdadera compasión. Y esto no es señal de riqueza interior, es falta de enjundia. En vano busco a uno que se haya hecho ilustre por algún juicio profundo y previsor sobre cualquiera cuestión decisiva del presente. No encuentro más que opiniones provincianas, como las puede tener cualquiera. Cuando tomo en las manos un libro de un pensador moderno, me pregunto si el autor tiene alguna idea de las realidades políticas mundiales, de los grandes problemas urbanos, del capitalismo, del porvenir del Estado, de las relaciones entre la técnica y la marcha de la civilización, de los rusos, de la ciencia. Goethe hubiera entendido y amado todas estas cosas. Entre los filósofos vivientes no hay uno solo capaz de do minarlas con la mirada. Todo ello, lo repito, no es contenido de la filosofía; pero es un síntoma indudable de su interior necesidad, de su fertilidad, de su rango simbólico.” [LDO, I, 80]

El autor de La Decadencia de Occidente sentía una profunda emoción ante los artefactos técnicos en la medida en que éstos revelaban voluntad de poder, prolongaciones y sofisticaciones de las garras, colmillos, cuernos y fauces con que la naturaleza había dotado a los seres superiores, vale decir, a los depredadores. Un acorazado de la marina de guerra, un cañón de largo alcance, un nuevo tipo de explosivo o de carro de combate: en esto debe pensar el filósofo de la historia cuando piensa en profundidad y se hace una imagen del mundo y de sus civilizaciones en pugna. Spengler decía admirarse más por las líneas de un trasatlántico o de una nueva máquina industrial que por todos los cachivaches verbales que se traen y se llevan los “literatos”, los “intelectuales” al uso. No hay, pues, aliento ni mucho rincón para el humanismo, para la cultura en el sentido sublime, en el sentido de ocio y superestructura volátil. Hay inventos que sólo la cultura fáustica ha elevado a su máxima expresión y que están pensados y llevados a cabo para el dominio. Dominio: si no se trata del dominio sobre potencias extranjeras al menos el dominio sobre el espacio, el tiempo, la energía y cualquier otra posible limitación a las posibilidades humanas. Contrariamente a lo que se dice, fueron aquellos monjes medievales, henchidos de la idea de un Dios fáustico, quienes empezaron a plantear el universo en términos de máquina inmensa, en términos de fuerzas, de dinamismo, de potencia. Pero aquellos escolásticos que fueron los primeros científicos modernos (y no un Galileo presentado por los hagiógrafos laicistas como el primer campeón sobre el escolasticismo) vieron pronto el carácter demoníaco de la ciencia-técnica, de ese complejo de conocimiento-acción que estaba destinado a escapar a todo control. El humanista contemporáneo es un “espíritu sacerdotal” que exorciza la voluntad de poder inscrita en cada ingenio técnico:

“Así como en la Antigüedad la altiva obstinación de Prometeo frente a los dioses fue sentida y considerada como vesania criminal, así también la máquina fue sentida por el barroco como algo diabólico. El espíritu infernal había descubierto al hombre el secreto con que apoderarse del mecanismo universal y representar el papel de Dios. Por eso las naturalezas puramente sacerdotales, que viven en el reino del espíritu y no esperan nada de «este mundo», sobre todo los filósofos idealistas, los clasicistas, los humanistas, Kant y el mismo Nietzsche, guardan un silencio hostil sobre la técnica.” [LDO, II, 466]

"El silencio hostil sobre la técnica". Habría, según Spengler, un poso profundamente idealista y sacerdotal en la filosofía europea, un poso que ni siquiera Nietzsche pudo evitar, pese a sus diatribas contra la mentalidad sacerdotal. Hay un humanismo antitécnico que, de derecha o de izquierda, anhela un retorno a la candidez y al Edén perdido, y ese humanismo pretende orillar por completo una realidad: una realidad basada en el conflicto. El mundo es guerra, y la paz sólo se disfruta velando las armas. Cualquier máquina, toda herramienta, es un arma dentro del conjunto de cosas inventadas bajo impulsos meramente crematísticos, y de ser objetos útiles, acaban convirtiéndose en armas. Sojuzgar a la naturaleza, rebelarse ante ella; dominar a otros hombres, imponerse a los enemigos.

En la era del capitalismo industrial, sin embargo, el poder de las máquinas se vuelve ajeno y envolvente del propio sujeto creador de las mismas, así como ajenas y envolventes con respecto del obrero que las usa. Spengler tiñe sus reflexiones sobre la Historia contemporánea de un cierto tecnocratismo. El ingeniero, y no el patrón, y no el obrero, es quien conduce el proceso material de la historia.

“Pero justamente por eso el hombre fáustico se ha convertido en esclavo de su creación Su número y la disposición de su vida quedan incluidos por la máquina en una trayectoria donde no hay descanso ni posibilidad de retroceso. El aldeano, el artífice, incluso el comerciante, aparecen de pronto inesenciales si se comparan con las tres figuras que la máquina ha educado durante su desarrollo; el empresario, el ingeniero, el obrero de fábrica. Una pequeña rama del trabajo manual, de la economía elaborativa, ha producido en esta cultura, y sólo en ella, el árbol poderoso que cubre con su sombra todos los demás oficios y profesiones: el mundo económico de la industria maquinista [376]. Obliga a la obediencia tanto al empresario como al obrero de fábrica. Los dos son esclavos, no señores de la máquina, que desenvuelve ahora su fuerza secreta más diabólica.” [LDO II, 774]

¿Qué queda de la “lucha de clases”? No hay tal. El obrero se vuelve esclavo obediente de la máquina, hasta aquí se le concede razón a Marx y a tantos críticos humanistas del maquinismo. Pero el patrón, que en la teoría marxiana acaba convirtiéndose en un parásito de la producción, es presentado por Spengler como un servidor obediente de una técnica diabólica, que comienza a marcar sus propias pautas, que legisla el comportamiento de los agentes humanos. El patrón, una vez realizada su inversión en tecnología, habrá de atenerse a las leyes impuestas por la propia tecnología. Marx pensaba que el ingeniero, en cuanto trabajador asalariado, podría emprender los cálculos racionales adecuados para mantener la producción maquinista y ponerla al servicio de la sociedad, esto es, de los demás obreros. Para Marx, el ingeniero debería dejar de ser un empleado íntimamente unido al patrón frente a la clase obrera, y alinearse con ella en le proceso socialista de eliminación del patrón capitalista enteramente superfluo. Por el contrario, en Spengler la caracterización de la industria maquinista es por completo diferente: el propio trabajo es una categoría abstracta y huera, hay jerarquía esencial en el mundo del trabajo, hay que regresar al dictum aristotélico: “unos hombres nacen para mandar y otros nacen para obedecer”. El trabajo de dirección es sustancialmente distinto al trabajo servil, manual y basado en la obediencia. No todos los hombres son iguales y, por tanto, no todos los trabajos son iguales. Y este principio, general en la Historia de las culturas y de las civilizaciones, no deja de aplicarse en la sociedad capitalista altamente industrializada. Los trabajos de dirección, a cargo de ingenieros y tecnócratas, son la nueva modalidad del caudillo guerrero, del conductor y conocedor de hombres. En rigor, podría hablarse de un socialismo: en la nueva era por venir, todos hemos de ser trabajadores, no hay lugar para los parásitos, quien no trabaje que no coma. Pero al mismo tiempo, en este nuevo socialismo, hay ineludiblemente jerarquías: trabajos de dirección y trabajos de base.

“El organizador y administrador constituye el centro en ese reino complicado y artificial de la máquina. El pensamiento, no la mano, es quien mantiene la cohesión. Pero justamente por eso existe una fisura todavía más importarte para conservar ese edificio, siempre amenazado, una figura más importante que la energía de esos empresarios, que hacen surgir ciudades de la tierra y cambian la forma del paisaje; es una figura que suele olvidarse en la controversia política: el ingeniero, el sabio sacerdote de la máquina. No sólo la altitud, sino la existencia misma de la industria, depende de la existencia de cien mil cabezas talentudas y educadas, que dominan la técnica y la desarrollan continuamente. El ingeniero es, en toda calma, dueño de la técnica y le marca su sino. El pensamiento del ingeniero es, como posibilidad, lo que la máquina como realidad. Se ha temido, con sentido harto materialista, el agotamiento de las minas de carbón. Pero mientras existan descubridores técnicos de alto vuelo, no hay peligros de esa clase que temer. Sólo cuando cese de reclutarse ese ejército de ingenieros, cuyo trabajo técnico constituye una intima unidad con el trabajo de la máquina, sólo entonces se extinguirá la industria, a pesar de los empresarios y de los trabajadores” [LDO, II, 775].

La lucha de clases en el marxismo ha de interpretarse imperativamente, no descriptivamente. Es un mandato que hizo Marx a los obreros a rebelarse, no es una “ley” que explique la historia, porque, para empezar, no siempre hubo clases sino estamentos y “grupos” definidos por muy otros criterios que los criterios economicistas de control y posesión de los medios de producción. De otra parte, el socialismo “ético” o “filantrópico” que ha llenado las cabezas huecas y las librerías desde el siglo XIX no es, en realidad, este marxismo “aguerrido” que llama a una guerra y a un odio de clases. Antes al contrario, gran parte de la izquierda (en especial la izquierda oficial e integrada plenamente en el sistema capitalista) llama a una reconciliación universal, a una abolición de los conflictos, a un  amor indiscriminado y a una paz perpetuas. La exacerbación de ciertas ideas racionalistas, del humanismo masónico, de la religión natural y deísta, del igualitarismo fanático, ha devenido, desde sus inicios sectarios, a constituir una suerte de pensamiento único, fuera del cual no hay más que criminalidad intelectual o “fascismo”. Derecha e izquierda admiten este marxismo “culturalista”, sin aguijón, según el cual la lucha de clases se sustituye por un diálogo o “acción comunicativa” infinita, se trueca por una madeja de intercambios dialógicos entre mónadas todas ellas autosuficientes. El empresario, el ingeniero, el obrero o el aldeano son, todos ellos “ciudadanos”, y después de asumida esta rotulación indistinta –burguesa- de “ciudadano” todo será paz y después gloria.

El hombre y la técnica. [9]

Y aquí interviene la técnica. La técnica entendida como panacea, como vertiente material u objetual de la misma medicina universal que constituye el diálogo o acción comunicativa, jamás podrá ser comprendida en toda su profundidad. Es lo que hacen hoy los “socialistas éticos”, los ideólogos posmarxistas, ya sin aguijón: en el fondo no serán necesarias nuevas revoluciones, y los obreros no tendrán que salir al frío de la calle, en donde ya no hay barricadas. La técnica, igual que el Cuerno de la Abundancia, vendrá a darnos los bienes necesarios que permitirán “bienestar para todos” y “parlamentarismo para todos”. El marxismo sin aguijón, todo el socialismo progresista que se ha impuesto hoy como doctrina oficial mundial, proclama una tesis que ya estaba presente en el propio corpus marxiano, y que la II Internacional no haría sino desarrollar de forma oportuna y oportunista: el propio desarrollo de las fuerzas productivas convertirá en superflua la figura del patrono, del capitalista. Unos obreros debidamente formados en administración y tecnología serían capaces de tomar el mando, de dirigir intelectualmente la producción. En esto, hay pocas diferencias con el muy extenso (y poco profundo) credo burgués de la Inglaterra utilitarista (Bentham o Mill): habría que llevar el mayor bienestar al mayor número posible de individuos. La titularidad jurídica de los medios de producción pasaría a ser una cuestión menor ante la perspectiva, cansada y propia de las momias de la cultura occidental (perspectiva “civilizada” en términos de Spengler). Pero he aquí que la técnica es algo más que un instrumento elevador del bienestar, algo más que una panacea posible para solventar disfunciones sociales. La perspectiva “extensiva” de la técnica ha de ser completada con la perspectiva “en profundidad”. La técnica es viejísima y consustancial con la evolución biológica del hombre. La técnica es táctica.

También los idealistas y los humanistas, la “gente de letras”, ignoran esta verdad. Para ellos la técnica arroja un hedor plebeyo, mundano, utilitario, que la acerca al ámbito de otras funciones corporales (nutrición, excreción, reproducción) sobre las que sería mejor callar fuera del ámbito especializado de la anatomía y fisiología. Y, sin embargo, gran parte de la Filosofía moderna es una reflexión sobre éstas técnicas de la vida, oscureciendo la técnica de las técnicas, esto es la Táctica, el combate. Con Nietzsche se ha puesto de moda relacionar la dieta, el régimen sexual y la necesidad de caminatas al aire libre, por un lado, y un saber degradado que conserva el nombre de “filosofía”. Las modas francesas, la sombra de Foucault, y toda esa literatura postmoderna en torno a las “tecnologías del Yo” acercan fatalmente a la filosofía de la fase civilizada occidental a subgéneros de otra índole como los libros de autoayuda, el psicoanálisis, las terapias alternativas y recetarios varios para una “vida sana y feliz” en la que el sexo, la dieta y el “pensamiento positivo” adquieren un enorme protagonismo. Justamente esto sucedió en la Antigüedad tardía: estoicos, cínicos, epicúreos, y demás sectas, redujeron la Filosofía a Ética, y ésta, a su vez, degeneró en un listado de consejos para la buena gestión de los genitales, del estómago, de la lengua y de pensamientos “positivos”. Ignoraron por completo que la técnica es la táctica de la vida, y que la vida es lucha. La Ética de las grandes urbes decadentes es la técnica del derrotado. La paz que se impone es la de quien triunfa porque ha luchado. Por el contrario la paz que se busca es la de aquel que ya no quiere o no puede luchar: cobarde, débil, cansado, tullido.

Basándose en Nietzsche, pero remitiéndose a una antropología mucho más nítida y naturalista, el Spengler de El Hombre y la Técnica retrotrae la Técnica al conjunto de tácticas de supervivencia de nuestra prehistoria animal, y en modo alguno las vincula a la herramienta. Hay técnica sin herramienta, como la del león que acecha a la gacela. Las herramientas pueden existir como una parte del ser orgánico (las garras, las zarpas, los picos, etc.) o pueden, en el caso humano, ser útiles fabricados y dotados de una vida extrasomática. Pero esta frontera del cuerpo humano no es la nota que distingue el origen de la técnica.

Además hay una analogía muy clara entre las especies animales y las dos clases fundamentales de hombre. Herbívoros y carnívoros, presas y rapaces. También en la sociedad humana se da esta dicotomía: dominadores y esclavos. En el filósofo germano no hay espacio para ternuras, no hay restos de humanismo cristiano o filantrópico, como sí quedaban en sus rivales (el socialismo ético y el marxismo, el liberalismo, el utilitarismo). El pensador de Blankenburg nos ofrece un cuadro crudo, belicista, feroz, de la historia natural y de la historia política. Este cuadro que se presenta como realista, sin idealizaciones ni edulcorantes, nos lo pone delante con una prosa bellísima, enérgica, feroz. Sin alambiques técnicos, sin jerga especializada, Spengler pone en funcionamiento sus profundas nociones de Biología, y muy especialmente de Etología. Partiendo de los precedentes fundamentales de Goethe, Schopenhauer y Darwin, pero corrigiéndolos a la vez (en especial a los dos últimos), Spengler nos hace conscientes de la muy diversa organización sensorial que poseen las distintas especies. El poder de la mirada en los animales rapaces (unos ojos cuya actuación ya, en sí mismo, es poder), que abre un abismo entre el ave de presa –por ejemplo- y la ternura ocular de una vaca... Este tipo de comparaciones (que por la época conformaban todo un continente nuevo de la ciencia, de la mano de von Üexkull) ilustran muy bien el tipo de aproximación naturalista que nuestro filósofo hace a la técnica y a las actividades directamente relacionadas con ella, la caza y la guerra.

En el animal no humano existe la “técnica de la especie”. Es ésta una técnica no personal, no inventiva, fija y repetitiva. Cada individuo se limita a ejecutar lo que su especie ha asimilado desde hace generaciones. Por el contrario, el hombre es creador para ser señor: innova, crea, se las ingenia para dominar, que es su verdadera vocación.

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[1] A partir de ahora, las citas de La Decadencia de Occidente se harán de la siguiente manera: LDO, I significa tomo primero de la versión castellana de la obra,y LDO II es el segundo tomo de la misma en la traducción de Manuel G. Morente, Editorial Espasa, Madrid, 2011. Las citas de la versión alemana, corresponden con las iniciales en esa lengua, y se citará DUA, Der Untergang des Abendlandes, Deutscher Taschenbuch Verlag, München, 1972.

[2] “Die Geschichte ist ewiges Werden, ewige Zukunft also; die Natur ist geworden, also ewige Vergangenheit” [LDO, 538: DUA, 499-500].

[3] “Kausalität  als notwendige Form der Erkenntnis”, DUA 197

[4]  “…inmitten späten, städtischer, an kausalen Denkzwang gewohnter Geiste”, [DUA, 236]

[5] “Aber der Geist unsrer grossen Städte will so nicht schliessen. Umgeben von einer Maschinentechnik, die er selbst geschaffen hat, in dem er der Natur ihr gefährlichsts Geheimis, das Gesetz ablauscht, will er auch die Geschichte technisch erobern, theoretisch un praktisch” [DUA, 198].

[6] “Wladensrauchen und Waldeinssamkeit, Gewitter und  Meeresbrandung, die das Naturgefühl des fautsichen Menschen, schon das des Kelten und Germanen, völlig beherrschen und seinen mythischen Schöpfungen den eigentümlichen Charakter geben, lassen das des antiken Menschen unbreührt” [DUA, 518] [LDO, I, 554-555].

[7] “Die Zupresse und Pinie wirken körperhaft, euklidisch; sie hätten niemals Symbole des unendlichen Raumes werden können. Die Eiche, Buche und Linde mit den irrenden Lichtflecken in ihren schattenerfüllten Räumen wirken körperloss, grenzenlos, geistig” [DUA, 509].

[8] Pietro Piro: Dos meditaciones sobre la técnica: El hombre y la técnica de Oswald Spengler y Meditación de la técnica de Ortega y Gasset, en Laguna: Revista de filosofía, , Nº 32, 2013 , págs. 43-60. Cita en p. 55.

[9] Así se titula el ensayo breve de Oswald Spengler: El hombre y la técnica: una contribución a la filosofía de la vida, Espasa-Calpe, Madrid, 1934. Trad. Española de Manuel García Morente.

Cioran, le mystique des Carpathes

Cioran, le mystique des Carpathes

 

par Jean-François Gauthier

 

La sécheresse et l'inexactitude du bois qui brûle. Ainsi pourrait-on qualifier la manière d'Emil Cioran, dont l'édition des Œuvres (Gallimard, coll. Quarto, 1995) rappelle opportunément qu'il fut, avec Beckett et Valéry, l'un des plus flamboyants stylistes de la langue française au XXe siècle, et, avec Maurice Blanchot, l'un des plus solitaires, tant dans sa vie personnelle que dans celle des Lettres. Les solitaires attirent par une fascination de couleuvre, le premier des pièges qu'ils tendent à leur lecteur, et qui fait croire en une force. Mais, moins qu'un héros, Cioran fut plus fragile que quiconque dans son fanatisme de l'inessentiel. De cette fragilité même il a fait vertu : quand il emmène vers la plongée des vertiges qu'il sait, comme nul autre, construire à la croisée de toutes les précarités, c'est pour laisser à quiconque attend de le suivre et pour répudier toute vérité autre que l'expérience même de ce vertige.

 

Né en 1911 d'un père prêtre orthodoxe, puis collégien en Transylvanie, étudiant à Bucarest, diplômé de philosophie avec un mémoire sur Bergson, Cioran entame son œuvre d'écrivain à 21 an, en roumain, avec Sur les cimes du désespoir. Reliquat romantique que cette évocation des cimes, mais une entrée fracassée dans l'expérience de l'écriture ; en-deçà de la philosophie et du jeu des concepts, il éprouve que seule l'esthétique peut imposer la perception des plus fortes contradictions de l'existence, dont cette première : « Le monde aurait dû être n'importe quoi, sauf ce qu'il est ». Le désespoir, qu'il cultive une seconde fois en roumain avec Le livre des Leurres (1936), ne se confond pas chez lui avec l'imbécillité diététique d'une déficience telle que le malheur, cette sorte de théâtre prolongé en aspiration fidéiste, avec, en revers, une promesse de bonheur du monde, dégoûtée ou non, acceptée ou refusée, affirmée ou niée. Cioran agit d'emblée le désespoir en son acception la plus exacte, l'acte de ne pas espérer. Si le monde n'est, en nous, qu'image, celle fabriquée par une chimie organique où la sensibilité a sa part, force est de constater que l'espérance et son contraire, avec leurs métaphysiques calculées, ne résultent elles-mêmes que d'une imagination déviée de sa course. Plus que sens ou non-sens, être ou non-être, la vie en son pressentiment le plus intime relève de son acte propre. Lui donner sens ou non-sens a priori serait lui refuser de se bâtir elle-même, la contraindre dans l'écheveau de significations préalables où s'instille sa perte.

 

Par son renoncement hypnotique à l'égard de tout ce qui séduit l'intellect ou la sensibilité, et par la forme artistique — qui seul subsiste de son aventure, personnelle, corporelle, et comme hallucinée — donnée à un détachement durement conquis et sans cesse remis à plat dans ses représentations, Cioran est entré de plain-pied dans la catégorie des inactuels. II a couru le risque de se statufier vivant, au plus près de l'extrême, d'une inacceptable conciliation avec ses propres vérités. Des larmes et des saints (1938) puis Le Crépuscule des pensées (1940) réinvestissent le paradoxe des deux premiers livres, et l'écrivain y côtoie les tentations du narcissisme. « Le monde est un non-lieu universel », écrit-il. Est-ce si assuré ? Ce monde, en effet, y réclame son lieu d'aventure, il y charge sa propre quête. Le Bréviaire des vaincus, écrit en roumain à Paris entre 1941 et 1944, publié en français quarante ans plus tard, comprend le risque du faux-pas : « Ma faute : j'ai détroussé le réel. J'ai mordu dans toutes les pommes des espérances humaines (...). Dévoré par le péché de nouveauté, j'aurais bien retourné le ciel comme un gant ». Cioran perçoit combien le comble du rien exige une présence, ou alors, il n'est plus D'où cette prudente résolution du Bréviaire : « Entre l'âme du vide et le cœur du néant ! ».

 

Difficile tactique à l'égard de soi-même sur le chemin du dépouillement : Cioran délaisse sa langue maternelle et entreprend d'écrire en français. Il s'y invente l'obligation d'un ramassement, la multiplication de raccourcis dont la fascination exercée sur le lecteur tient à sa manière rigoureuse de refuser ce qu'elle affirme, d'acquiescer à ce qu'elle manque et de se déprendre de ce qu'elle vise. La vie comme coup du sort, l'inaptitude de la volonté, un regard morgue sur les leurres du bonheur et du malheur, tous les thèmes d'un stoïcisme dépouillé des revendications de l'imposture, Cioran va les pousser comme des fleurs d'opium rejetées vers l'avant d'une écriture sobre, sans fin révoquée dans sa tentation d'avoir sais ou possédé, ou fixé une illumination. De la vieille maxime d’Épictète conseillant à la raison triomphante d'en rabattre dans ses prétentions et de mieux distinguer ce qui dépend de nous et ce qui n'en dépend pas, il retiendra la seconde injonction, qui lui fait plier toute son énergie à se convaincre que rien ne dépend de lui, sauf l'illusion de ne dépendre de rien. Emil Cioran, ou le maximalisme de l'infortune.

 

Comment se donner matière à vivre ? Le Précis de décomposition, premier livre écrit en français, publié en 1949, fixe quelques règles : se défaire de l'histoire, des vérités, des doutes, pratiquer l'envers des choses, l'ironie, la distance habitée, ne pas se venger du néant en l'érigeant en loi et conserver, par la-dessus, la politesse de vivre malgré un dénouement « prévu, effroyable et vain ». Rien, évidemment, dans tout cela, qui rassurerait une troupe sociale, ardente au salut du monde ou au bonheur des hommes. De ce versant antipolitique de son œuvre, Cioran n'a cure ; ou plutôt est-ce là son souci constant, de se défaire d'un tel souci  Réduit à une logique, le Précis montrerait une addition d'impasses et de contradictions ; mais lu dans son mouvement même, haché, désarchitecturé, il déploie une expérience mystique provocante qui tente de maintenir l'acte de vivre en-deçà de toutes les consolations que lui proposent les arts ou les croyances. La vie commune en société s'ébroue certes à l'inverse et fabrique toutes sortes d'idées propres à rassurer. Au jugement de Cioran, elle a tort. À refuser l'insatisfaction, on trouve facilement matière à croire ; mais à croire en quoi que ce soit, on se défausse de l'immédiateté de la vie, on masque la brutalité de ce qui n'est jamais advenu : soi-même, pour l'endiguer dans l'erreur et retourner vers l'ennui. Contre la seule ligne de la logique, étouffante de certitudes toujours contredites par l'expérience, la cohérence de la sagesse impose d'autres dimensions d'examen : il faut qu'en chaque acte ou pensée soit impliquée la totalité de ce qu'ils accomplissent, et surtout, négativement, la globalité de ce qu'ils manquent, de ce qui reste hors de portée. De là cette écriture si particulière à Cioran, où concourent tous les moyens de la rhétorique : l'affirmation  brève, le syllogisme détourné, la harangue, le précepte, la citation qui cheville sans démontrer, la négation des vérités ordinaires, le retournement des croyances religieuses, l'aménagement des contraires, l'exaltation des contradictoires. Ce mouvement toujours tremblé emmène de l'intellect au sensible, puis du sensible à l'intellect, dessinant un abîme entre ce que la raison dévoie de l'expérience en se faisant maxime, et ce que l'expérience ignore d'elle­ même en échouant à instituer la raison de ses raisons. Ce qui est à saisir, la ponctualité instantanée de l'existence, cela échappe au langage, mais dans le mouvement même où l'instant qui passe ourdit l'impératif de s'exprimer, auquel on n'échappe pas. Autant dire que ce qui fait vivre est « au-delà de tout, au-delà de l'être lui-même », selon la leçon de Grégoire de Nazianze. S'il n'en a pas gardé le Dieu, Cioran a conservé de son éducation orthodoxe un dépôt sensible, une part de théologie négative qui exacerbe chez lui la désignation de ce qui cause l'étrange agitation d'exister : l'impossible clôture de soi sur soi, de soi sur le monde, du monde sur lui-même. De quoi se déduit la seule vérité possible : que toute vérité, toute espérance, toute croyance relèvent d'une imposture comparable à celle d'un tranquillisant pharmaceutique ; le seul apprentissage possible du monde et de la vie, de l'existence même et de son sens, se passe de toute érudition, qu'elle soit biologique, philosophique ou littéraire ; c'est "un savoir sans connaissances" qui nous met en présence permanente de notre radicale destructibilité, laquelle contredit l'indestructible envie de vivre que promènent tous ceux qui ne se suicident pas.

 

C'est le privilège des poètes de s'adosser ainsi à l'incompréhensible pour relancer sans cesse, en travers de leur propre route, le défi de ne pas s'y perdre, et celui d'y faire apparaître une clairière, fût-ce pour l'embraser aussitôt d'un feu dévastateur. Cioran ne s'est senti chez lui ni dans sa société, ni dans la culture usuelle. À Maistre et à l'Hindouisme, à Chestov, aux moralistes français, à Pascal et à Nietzsche, à tous ceux qui, éconduits de la mémoire ordinaire, ne furent pas tenus par l'époque pour des maîtres à méditer, il demanda  des conseils pour vivre un peu. Il a brandi avec une sérénité intransigeante non point l'orgueil d’être soi-même dans une société morte, ni l'exaspération, jusqu'au tournis, de la fascination du vide, mais la simple revendication d'échouer dans la rédaction  de tout dernier mot possible. Autant dire que sa seule loi fut de n'en avoir jamais fini avec la répudiation du verbe, avec les facilités tressées par toute société entre tout homme et l'illusion balkanique d'avoir raison devant l'histoire, face à un salut dévitalisé qui n'existe jamais.

 

L'ambiguïté de l’œuvre de Cioran, affinée dans les volumes ultérieurs, des Syllogismes de l'amertume (1952) aux Aveux et anathèmes (1987) en passant par De l'inconvénient d'être né (1973), tient à son contenu même, à son obstination souterraine au tête-à-tête renversé en exercice de métaphysique. S'il se fait moraliste, c'est pour soustraire l'étude des mœurs à la tentation des psychologues dont la science éteint les ténèbres et l'amertume qui tourmentent toute existence. Savoir vivre se passe, chez lui, de savoir-vivre en bonne compagnie : l'esprit rumine l'épreuve solitaire avec plus de violence que la pratique sociale des semblables. Il faut, disait-il de Pascal — et il en faisait la matière de sa propre expérience —, payer pour la moindre des affirmations ou des négations qu'on s'autorise, et non simplement se rémunérer à la monnaie des certitudes commodes de l'aigreur. Là où le cynisme consiste en une dénégation sans scrupules de la condition  humaine, Cioran remue jusqu'au désabusement, se compromet dans l'irritation, sabote les systèmes et renverse leur ruine en une pleine acceptation du laconisme d'un monde incurable. Emil Cioran aura réussi une œuvre dont l'unité paradoxale consiste en une constante versatilité. Toutes les pistes explorées, qu'elle fussent artistiques, philosophiques ou littéraires, l'anathème, la malédiction et la virulence, l'espérance, l'apaisement ou la consolation, il en aura monté et démonté les beautés, les leurres et les impasses. Il ne cesse de changer de sujet ou d'objet pour retourner le même terreau : les mots ne sont utiles qu'à dissoudre les vérités qu'ils permettent d'arranger. Nul autre que lui n'a mené aussi loin cette difficile expérience. Le livre,dans la tradition occidentale, est le livre du maître. Les écrits du pyromane Cioran, quant à eux, ne délivrent aucune assurance magistrale ; ce sont des recueils d'exercices ne valant que pour ceux, sans se contenter de les lire, qui les appliquent à la déprise de soi, qui les tiennent pour autant d'occasions offertes de se pencher sur son propre cas et de devenir son propre maitre en calcination. Sous la réserve exigeante d'y pourvoir effectivement. Car les incendies allumés par Cioran ne se propagent pas aux bibliothèques ; ils s'attaquent aux traces que les bibliothèques ont laissées en nous, qui furent, en leur temps, bien nécessaires à l'affermissement de soi, et dont il faut savoir se défaire lors de cures régulières, sauf à se résigner à l'esclavage des systèmes et des pensées rassurantes.

 

► Jean-François Gautier, Antaïos n°12, 1997.

ESSAIS SUR LA VIOLENCE DE MICHEL MAFFESOLI

ESSAIS SUR LA VIOLENCE DE MICHEL MAFFESOLI

 

Une réédition opportune

 

Gustin Sintaud.
Ex: http://metamag.fr

Une bien heureuse initiative que cette réédition le 2 octobre 2014 des « Essais sur la violence » de Michel Maffesoli. Ni son travail originel, ni sa préface postérieure ne semble, à l’auteur, nécessiter une quelconque actualisation tant la violence, telle qu’il l’expose, la détaille et l’analyse, est invariante. 

Qu’aurait-il pu ajouter ou retrancher ?

Par son originalité, sa remarquable rigueur scientifique, cette étude ne souffre aucune critique ; surtout pas celle des idées primaires sur la violence du genre « café du commerce » ou « fin de repas familial », régurgitations de celles généralement véhiculées péremptoirement par la suffisance des médias ; encore moins celle du conformisme intellectuel soumis à la dictature du moralisme convenu comme convenable, pleine d’un fade « bon garçonnisme », bourrée d’une bien triste irénologie. Cette intelligente approche s’affirme rebelle sans ambages, tant elle répète qu’elle ignore volontairement le politiquement ou philosophiquement correct.

La totale liberté revendiquée permet d’appréhender la violence dans une acceptation particulièrement ouverte. Elle fait découvrir l’ambivalence de ses profonds aspects institutionnels comme sa dimension socialement fondatrice.

Sans jamais sombrer dans quelque facile solution unique réductrice, Michel Maffesoli expose la violence, tant sous ses expressions de simple opposition, d’affrontement plus ou moins évident, plus ou moins marqué, voire de débridement passionnel ou autre, individuel ou social. Il l’embrasse sous sa forme de dissidence, prise en son acceptation générale, comme sous celle de résistance dans toutes ses manifestations : politique ou tout simplement banale de la vie quotidienne.

La magistrale analyse du phénomène de la violence utilise en prémisses, les travaux de Georg Simmel, Gilbert Durant, Julien Freund ou Max Wéber. Elle n’hésite jamais, parfois même abusivement, à s’étayer en citant ces géniaux précurseurs. Elle se réfère tout aussi complaisamment, ici à Montaigne pour son « hommerie » tant il est « vain et naïf de réduire à l’angéologie » l’humaine nature, là au « neikos » d’Empédocle, nécessaire pendant de la conciliante « philià » ; ou encore sollicite-t-elle Spinoza pour qui la violence est un incontournable structurant collectif. Machiavel, lui aussi est plusieurs fois référencé, tout comme J. Duvignaud qui nomme : « dialectique vivante de l’imaginaire et de l’institué » la duplicité de la dissidence. La notion d’ « hypercivilisation » chère à Durkeim, lui sert aussi pour illustrer la très étroite relation entre productivisme et détestable atomisation.

Tout le long de cette précieuse et productive démarche, se révèle, avec récurrence, la riche bipolarité de la violence. La complémentarité de contraires s’y exprimant, lui reconnaît partout une fonction d’équilibre. La bivalence lui permet de générer une bien réelle harmonie malgré son apparence de paradoxe. Le rôle de la violence dans la réalité de la société ne peut se contester : elle participe à sa fondation, elle l’aide à se bâtir, elle l’anime, lui donne vie et valeur, et s’y impose même en raison sine qua non.

A tant s’intéresser, de cette manière, à la violence, se gomme l’idée réflexe de mal absolu dont tout monde conditionné, aseptisé charge la violence. Aucune manifestation violente, prise parmi les plus outrancières, les plus détestables, ne peut totalement la diaboliser : elle n’est pas le grand Satan. Et même, qu’elle engendre la destruction, elle ne se réduit pas à ce seul effet. Elle semble alors tout autant porteuse d’utilité, tout du moins intégrée « dans un mécanisme productif dont elle est apparemment la négation ». Ainsi son aspect généralement angoissant se dissout puisque, sans cette destruction, point de reproduction sociale, tout comme en biologie. La violence fonde bien, sur cette ambigüité, son utilité d’agent d’équilibre structural, mais aussi sa destructivité. Toujours oppositions et antagonismes concourent à l’équilibre global.

Si à la forme violence, est intégrée la fête, dans son rituel de régénération sociale et individuelle se fait grand usage du langage non contenu ; alors la parole peut s’avérer dangereuse pour l’institué, plus d’ailleurs par l’échange qu’elle implique que dans son contenu : voilà la parole violence, révolte ; car la parole, souvent anodine, est difficilement contrôlable. Elle est néanmoins un élément important de la socialité même si le vrai rôle de la parole est subversif. La violence s’insère partout, même et surtout, à priori, elle semble étrangère, en totale incongruité. Ne peut-on la dénicher même dans rire ou sourire, dans la dérision, pleine d’humour, comme une forme de subversion en contestation travestie ? Certes, le rire parce que irrépressible est subversif ; il marque réaction et résistance ; le voilà contagieux, agrégatif.

Le rôle corrosif du rire, comme pour la parole, lui octroie d’être un important élément dans la dynamique de la violence. Tout cela s’exprime dans l’orgiasme de la tradition dionysiaque : le cocktail de parole libérée, de consumation outrancière, avec une forte dose de rire gras, explosif, résume techniquement les phénomènes d’effervescence sociale ; il canalise, exprime et limite le sacré, la part d’ombre qui pétrit tant l’individu que le social. « L’orgie joue donc de manière paroxystique le rapport à la dépense, à la déperdition, à la dissolution. ». Elle lie mort et vie dans une relation organique, vécue rituellement, parfois cruellement ou bien alors sereinement. L’orgiasme exige d’accepter le vertige et l’angoisse de la mort ou de l’altérité. Cela entraîne, par l’intégration à une globalité organique, à participer de l’éternité du monde.

Par cette pointilleuse investigation de la violence, traquée jusqu’en ses germes les plus diffus, insolites, improbables, Michel Maffesoli s’insurge que ne se retiennent trop souvent que ses aspects inquiétants, négatifs : alors, il s’efforce véhémentement de les compenser en détaillant tout ce que telles évidences occultent de positif, paradoxalement constructif et réformateur socialement. Il s’acharne à affirmer l’intérêt induit de chaque avènement du moindre soupçon d’expression violente. Celui-ci génère quasi systématiquement de notables transformations profitables, comme améliorations de comportements individuels, ou ajustements judicieux des structures sociales.

Au-delà de cette longue démarche captivante, profondément optimiste, par-delà l’intérêt stimulant de trouvailles clairement expliquées, se construit patiemment une grande leçon de sagesse intransigeante : elle ne se prive pas de fustiger, plus ou moins directement, toutes les indignités des pseudo-maîtres à penser, toutes les veuleries des suiveurs ou « metuentes », toutes les infamies des débats sémantiques, philosophiques, sociologiques, … toutes les vérités prétendues véhiculées par les traditions…

A l’unicité, l’uniformité, en général, il semble avoir un faible pour le polymorphisme et même le « polythéisme » qui disent l’aspect pluriel des choses, des êtres et des étants sociaux. Son goût pour la globalité, quand elle se conforte d’une complémentarité de contraires ajustés, ne doit pas faire oublier qu’en violence, l’auteur entend, sans le dire ouvertement : volonté de puissance.

« Essais sur la violence » de Michel Maffesoli (CNRS Editions, collection Biblis n°93) , 9.50€

Critique de la Révolution par Hegel : Périclès contre l’égalitarisme

Critique de la Révolution par Hegel : Périclès contre l’égalitarisme

Ex: http://anti-mythes.blogspot.com

 

Alors que la Révolution française insuffle à l’Europe une énergie philosophique nouvelle, affirmant ressusciter l’esprit de la démocratie grecque, un soupçon germe déjà dans l’esprit de Hegel : cette filiation avec l’Antiquité ne repose-t-elle pas sur un malentendu ? Par la figure de Périclès, le philosophe révèle l’erreur d’interprétation commise par ceux qui se réclament de la démocratie athénienne. Présentée comme une révolution chargée de promesses égalitaires que Périclès se serait empressé de trahir, ne fut-elle pas plutôt la célébration de la liberté et de la vertu individuelles, dont Périclès s’avéra le plus admirable serviteur ?

 

Périclès a fait l’objet d’une disgrâce constante dans l’histoire de la philosophie, dont les traces subsistent encore fortement, même à la fin du XVIIIème siècle. Lui préférant Sparte, les révolutionnaires français n’ont que modérément recours au modèle d’Athènes, et voient dans le destin tragique de cette cité le paradigme à ne pas suivre en ces heures de refondation politique intégrale – or, Périclès incarne en tout point cette corruption de l’idéal démocratique qu’ils entendent ne pas reproduire. En Allemagne, à la même époque, les détracteurs de l’entreprise révolutionnaire française puisent dans l’œuvre de Platon d’innombrables présages du destin qui attend, selon eux, le peuple français. Le philosophe grec, constatant l’échec absolu de la démocratie, et formulant une critique acerbe du régime qui avait, selon lui, corrompu la grandeur athénienne, assimilait entièrement sa décadence à la personnalité de Périclès. Ainsi, le nom de l’homme d’État est à la fois utilisé par ses opposants pour discréditer la Révolution, et mettre en garde contre le chaos dont ils la croient porteuse, et rejeté par ses défenseurs, qui se passeraient volontiers de l’encombrant exemple d’un homme en qui l’historiographie persiste à ne voir qu’un monarque déguisé, populiste et manipulateur de foules.

 

Hegel, fasciné par les bouleversements politiques qui ont lieu en France, expose dans ses Leçons sur la Philosophie de l’Histoire les raisons qui le poussent à rejeter en bloc l’analyse de Platon. Découlant d’une idée univoque selon laquelle la démocratie fut néfaste à Athènes, le philosophe grec formule un jugement partial et intéressé, puisqu’il s’agit avant tout de discréditer un régime après son effondrement, en s’appuyant allègrement sur l’impopularité de Périclès dans la mémoire de ses contemporains. Platon reproche notamment à l’homme d’État athénien d’avoir préféré la prospérité économique de la Cité, pour s’assurer le soutien des foules ainsi comblées, à la véritable poursuite de l’idéal de justice. Périclès serait également le corrupteur moral de la vie politique athénienne, ayant introduit un système de rétribution de l’exercice des charges publiques, explicitement accusé par Platon, dans le Gorgias, d’avoir précipité la décadence d’un régime déjà vicié. « Périclès a rendu les Athéniens paresseux, lâches, babillards et intéressés, ayant le premier soudoyé les troupes. » Il semble pourtant que ce système ait, bien au contraire, permis à un nombre sans cesse croissant de citoyens athéniens de prendre part à l’administration de la Cité. Hegel ne s’y trompe pas, et il annonce ne vouloir juger Périclès qu’à l’aune des récits produits par les historiens, c’est-à-dire en s’appuyant sur des textes certes pas neutres quant à leur substance, puisque trahissant inconsciemment leur époque, mais du moins plus impartiaux dans leurs intentions que ceux de Platon.

 

Le chef plutôt que la foule, le mérite plutôt que l’égalité

 

C’est naturellement chez Thucydide que Hegel trouve la source documentaire la plus utile à son entreprise, mais également chez Plutarque, bien qu’il ne souscrive pas aux critiques sévères que ce dernier adresse aux décisions politiques prises par Périclès. Recoupant les descriptions concordantes, Hegel brosse le portrait d’un homme dont la qualité première fut la modération. Jamais en proie aux excès de la colère ou de la peur, Périclès était avant tout un homme tempéré, qui n’agissait qu’avec précaution et mesure, en accord avec les vertus de son temps. Intègre, il est peu probable qu’il eût jamais cédé à quelque tentative de corruption que ce fût, étant doté d’une force de caractère implacable, qui le poussait à obéir aux principes qu’il s’était lui-même fixé. De Thucydide, Hegel retient surtout l’éloge de la culture de Périclès, « homme riche en esprit », signe d’une formation irréprochable. Or, pour le philosophe allemand, c’est justement la formation qui permet à l’individu d’entrer en contact avec l’universel tout en développant sa personnalité. « La personnalité ne doit pas être confondue avec la particularité, car la première sera d’autant plus grande qu’elle sera dégagée de la seconde et qu’elle aura davantage saisi, exprimé et réalisé là, la véritable essence de son époque ».

 

Périclès apparaît ainsi comme l’homme portant à leur plus parfaite harmonie les vertus individuelles permettant la bonne conduite de la vie collective de la Cité qu’il dirige seul. Là où les historiens n’avaient vu qu’une preuve supplémentaire du dévoiement de la démocratie au profit du pouvoir d’un seul homme, Hegel voit finalement dans le pouvoir de Périclès la résolution de l’inextricable tension qui parcourt la démocratie : tiraillée entre la liberté individuelle et la subjectivité, entre l’obéissance et la volonté, elle ne peut être que de courte durée sous sa forme institutionnelle. Il lui faut donc un homme d’État fort et vertueux, qui se distingue par ses qualités morales et intellectuelles, et qui s’impose aux foules par une maîtrise absolue du langage, ainsi que par une détermination sans faille. A l’opposé de la méfiance platonicienne à l’égard des sophistes et des démagogues, Hegel célèbre donc la fascination de la foule pour l’éminence d’un individu demeurant cependant entièrement soumis à elle, ne pouvant agir contre son gré ni la contrarier, sous peine de perdre immédiatement son affection et son appui.

 

C’est dans ce rapport quasi organique entre l’homme d’État et le tribunal perpétuel devant lequel il s’exprime que réside, selon Hegel, l’assurance la plus fiable d’une Cité administrée selon la volonté du peuple, sans corruption ni déformation. Le seul critère permettant de déterminer l’aptitude d’un homme à se distinguer et à diriger la Cité repose donc sur l’examen de ses qualités propres, loin des fantasmes abstraits d’une égalité supposée absolue entre tous les tempéraments, tous les caractères et toutes les individualités. Nourrissant ici une divergence très marquée avec la philosophie kantienne et la neutralité morale des talents qu’elle avait posée comme principe fondateur de l’égalité des individus, Hegel n’en vient pas pour autant à réhabiliter la conception aristocratique de la Cité chère aux platoniciens. Bien au contraire, il vante les mérites du procédé par lequel l’homme vertueux parvient à s’imposer comme tel auprès de ses pairs, à se faire reconnaître par eux et à les guider : le mérite.

 

Éloge de la liberté individuelle et critique de la liberté formelle

 

Il serait absurde de déceler dans la perspective hégélienne une quelconque tentative de justification des despotismes éclairés tels qu’ils se développèrent au cours du XVIIIème siècle, puisqu’elle célèbre avant tout l’individu libre que fut Périclès, et dénonce les « abstractions » dont se nourrissent les révolutionnaires français. Il convient de noter que, par ce terme péjoratif, Hegel ne critique pas leur tentative de fonder une anthropologie ex nihilo, grâce à une raison autosuffisante dont découleraient, purs et évidents, les principes éthiques régissant la cité – c’est là le reproche principal des contre-révolutionnaires français. Il s’en prend davantage aux libertés attribuées à l’homme, et dont il reproche, avec une justesse relativement visionnaire, le formalisme auquel elles sont condamnées. Car c’est bien là que se situe, selon lui, toute l’ambiguïté de la Révolution : ses grands principes, aussi nobles soient-ils, sont désincarnés, et ne porteront fatalement aucun fruit, lorsqu’ils ne s’avéreront tout simplement pas délétères.

 

Pour le comprendre, il suffit de se rappeler qu’à l’opposé d’Athènes et de Périclès se trouve le modèle lacédémonien, Sparte, Cité idéalisée dans l’imaginaire des révolutionnaires de 1789. Face aux richesses bourgeoises d’Athènes, à son exaltation de la beauté, des arts et du superflu, ainsi qu’à son attachement profond à l’individu, la frugalité spartiate, austère et rigoureuse, séduit bien davantage les figures les plus radicales comme Robespierre. Rien d’étonnant à cela, selon Hegel, qui voit dans ces deux périodes historiques la manifestation de la même tendance égalitaire destructrice. Entre l’égalité forcée des fortunes et des propriétés privées à Sparte et la dérive sanglante de la Terreur, le philosophe ne concède aucune différence : c’est la même « vertu rigide et abstraite » à l’œuvre, qui fait du Comité de Salut Public le nouveau directoire des Éphores, c’est à dire une aristocratie portée par des principes qui, sous couvert d’égalité, attire le peuple vers la médiocrité et noie l’individu dans la masse. Sans liberté individuelle, pas de développement de la subjectivité. Sans la prospérité économique, pas d’accès à ces luxes que représentent les arts, la science ou la pensée universelle. Hegel condamne les Spartiates comme les Jacobins en les accusant de travestir l’enchaînement de l’individu libre en une apparente promesse d’égalité vide de tout sens et intenable, comme le démontreront les événements à venir.

 

Si Périclès trouve grâce aux yeux de Hegel, ce dernier n’appelle en aucun cas à reproduire la tentative athénienne. L’analyse historique ne peut fournir autre chose qu’une éventuelle inspiration, mais ne constitue pas un idéal vers lequel il conviendrait de tendre. De même, s’il identifie les révolutionnaires français aux Spartiates, ce n’est que pour souligner l’essence abstraite et perverse des principes qui les guident, et non pour prophétiser le déclin de l’idée démocratique en France. C’est finalement à cette dernière que sont adressées les principales critiques que formule Hegel dans ses Leçons, ou, plus précisément, à l’ambiguïté de son nom, dont profitent les révolutionnaires pour se dispenser d’avoir à mettre en place l’égalité et la liberté effectives. Il ne s’agit pas de gouverner pour le peuple, ni même de permettre au peuple de gouverner directement – ce sont là des questions d’agencement presque secondaires, et qui, ironiquement, constituent l’horizon absolu de toute la philosophie politique contemporaine. Le projet dont il est question, bien plus vaste et ambitieux, concerne la marche de l’Histoire du monde : il s’agit de permettre à la raison de se réaliser. Et c’est précisément pour éviter que la démocratie, fût-elle bien réelle et permît-elle aux citoyens libres et égaux de déterminer leur avenir, ne se fasse plus nuisible encore en remettant le pouvoir à une masse d’individus ayant troqué leurs singularités et leur liberté contre l’égalitarisme médiocrement uniforme, que Hegel oppose aux révolutionnaires de 1789 la figure vertueuse et libre de Périclès, et avec elle le modèle athénien contre l’ombre égalitaire qui est en train de se lever sur l’Europe.

 

http://philitt.fr :: lien

http://www.voxnr.com/cc/dh_autres/EuEZyZFuFpQazUmPcW.shtml

The Straussian Assault on America’s European Heritage

The Straussian Assault on America’s European Heritage

By Ricardo Duchesne

Ex: http://www.counter-current.com

Grant Havers
Leo Strauss and Anglo-American Democracy: A Conservative Critique ^[2]
Northern Illinois University Press, 2013

Amain pillar sustaining the practice of mass immigration is that Western nations are inherently characterized by a “civic” form of national membership. Western nations express the “natural” wishes of “man as man” for equal rights, rule of law, freedom of expression, and private property. Mainstream leftists and conservatives alike insist on the historical genuineness of this civic definition. This civic identity, they tell us, is what identifies the nations of Western civilization as unique and universal all at once. Unique because they are the only nations in which the idea of citizenship has been radically separated from any ethnic and religious background; and universal because these civic values are self-evident truths all humans want whenever they are given the opportunity to choose.

To include the criteria of ethnicity or religious ancestry in the concept of Western citizenship is manifestly illiberal. Even more, it is now taken for granted that if Western nations are to live up to their idea of civic citizenship they must relinquish any sense of European peoplehood and Christian ancestry. Welcoming immigrants from multiples ethnic and religious backgrounds is currently seen as a truer expression of the inherent character of Western nationality than remaining attached to any notion of European ethnicity and Christian historicity.

The reality that the liberal constitutions of Western nations were conceived and understood in ethnic and Christian terms (if only implicitly since the builders and founders of European nations never envisioned an age of mass migrations) has been conveniently overlooked by our mainstream elites. These elites are willfully downplaying the fact that the liberal nation states of Europe emerged within ethnolinguistic boundaries and majority identities. Those states possessing a high degree of ethnic homogeneity, where ancestors had lived for generations—England, France, Italy, Belgium, Holland, Sweden, Norway, Finland, and Denmark—were the ones with the strongest liberal traits, constitutions, and institutions. Those states (or empires like the Austro-Hungarian Empire) composed of multiple ethnic groups were the ones enraptured by illiberal forms of ethnic nationalism and intense rivalries over identities and political boundaries. In other words, the historical record shows that a high degree of ethnic homogeneity tends to produce liberal values, whereas countries or areas with a high number of diverse ethnic groups have tended to generate ethnic tensions, conflict, and illiberal institutions. As Jerry Muller has argued in “Us and Them” (Foreign Affairs: March/April 2008), “Liberal democracy and ethnic homogeneity are not only compatible; they can be complementary.”

Mainstream leftists and conservatives have differed in the way they have gone about redefining the historical roots of Western nationalism and abolishing the ethnic identities of Western nations. Eric Hobsbawm, the highly regarded apologist of the Great Terror ^[3] in the Soviet Union, persuaded most of the academic world, in his book, Nations and Nationalism since 1780: Programme, Myth, Reality ^[4] (1989), that the nation states of Europe were not created by a people sharing a common historical memory, a sense of territorial belonging and habitation, similar dialects, and physical appearances; no, the nation-states of Europe were “socially constructed” entities, “invented traditions,” “imagined” by people perceiving themselves as part of a “mythological” group in an unknown past. Hobsbawm deliberately sought to discredit any sense of ethnic identity among Europeans by depicting their nation building practices as modern fairy-tales administered by capitalists and bureaucrats from above on a miscellaneous pre-modern population.

Leftists however have not been the only ones pushing for a purely civic interpretation of Western nationhood; mainstream conservatives, too, have been trying to root out Christianity and ethnicity from the historical experiences and founding principles of European nations. Their discursive strategy has not been one of dishonoring the past but of projecting backwards into European history a universal notion of Western citizenship that includes the human race. The most prominent school in the formulation of this view has come out of the writings of Leo Strauss. This is the way I read Grant Havers’s Leo Strauss and Anglo-American Democracy: A Conservative Critique (2013). In this heavily researched and always clear book, Havers goes about arguing in a calm but very effective way that Strauss was not the traditional conservative leftists have made him out to be; he was a firm believer in the principles of liberal equality and a unswerving opponent of any form of Western citizenship anchored in Christianity and ethnic identity.

Strauss’s vehement opposition to communism coupled with his enthusiastic defense of American democracy, as it stood in the 1950s, created the erroneous impression that he was a “right wing conservative.” But, as Havers explains, Strauss was no less critical of “right wing extremists” (who valued forms of citizenship tied to the nationalist customs and historical memories of a particular people) than of the New Left. Strauss believed that America was a universal nation in being founded on principles that reflected the “natural” disposition of all humans for life, liberty, and happiness. These principles were discovered first by the ancient Greeks in a philosophical and rational manner, but they were not particular to the Greeks; rather, they were “eternal truths” apprehended by Greek philosophers in their writings against tyrannical regimes. While these principles were accessible to all humans as humans, only a few great philosophers and statesmen exhibited the intellectual and personal fortitude to fully grasp and actualize these principles. Nevertheless, most humans possessed enough mental equipment as reasoning beings to recognize these principles as “rights” intrinsic to their nature, so long as they were given the chance to deliberate on “the good” life.

Havers’s “conservative critique” of Strauss consists essentially in emphasizing the uniquely Western and Christian origins of the foundational principles of Anglo-American democracy. While Havers’s traditional conservatism includes admiration for such classical liberal principles as the rule of law, constitutional government, and separation of church and state, his argument is that these liberal principles are rooted primarily in Christianity, particularly its ideal of charity. He takes for granted the reader’s familiarity with this ideal, which is unfortunate, since it is not well understood, but is generally taken to mean that Christianity encourages charitable activities, relief of poverty, and advancement of education. Havers has something more profound in mind. Christian charity from a political perspective is a state of being wherein one seeks a sympathetic understanding of ideas and beliefs that are different to one’s own. Charitable Christians seek to understand other viewpoints and are willing to engage alternative ideas and political proposals rather than oppose them without open dialogue. Havers argues that the principles of natural rights embodied in America’s founding cannot be separated from this charitable disposition; not only were the founders of America, the men who wrote the Federalist Papers, quite definite in voicing the view that they were acting as Christian believers in formulating America’s founding, they were also very critical of Greek slavery, militarism, and aristocratic license against the will of the people.

Throughout the book Havers debates the rather ahistorical way Strauss and his followers have gone about “downplaying or ignoring the role of Christianity in shaping the Anglo-American tradition” – when the historical record copiously shows that Christianity played a central role nurturing the ideals of individualism and tolerance, abolition of slavery and respect for the dignity of all humans. Havers debates and refutes the similarly perplexing ways in which Straussians have gone about highlighting the role of Greek philosophy in shaping the Anglo-American tradition – when the historical record amply shows that Greek philosophers were opponents of the natural equality of humans, defenders of slavery, proponents of a tragic view of history, the inevitability of war, and the rule of the mighty.

Havers also challenges the Straussian elevation of such figures as Lincoln, Churchill, Roosevelt, Hobbes, and Locke as proponents of an Anglo-American tradition founded on “timeless” Greek ideas. He shows that Christianity was the prevailing influence in the intellectual development and actions of all these men. Havers imparts on the readers a sense of disbelief as to how the Straussians ever managed to exert so much influence on American conservatism (to the point of transforming its original emphasis on traditions and communities into a call for the spread of universal values across the world), despite proposing views that were so blissfully indifferent to “readily available facts.”

Basically, the Straussians were not worried about historical veracity as much as they were determined to argue that Western civilization (which they identified with the Anglo-American tradition) was philosophically conceived from its beginnings as a universal civilization. In this effort, Strauss and his followers genuinely believed that American liberalism had fallen prey to the “yoke” of German historicism and relativism, infusing the American principles of natural rights with the notion that these were merely valid for a particular people rather than based on Human Reason. German historicism – the idea that each culture exhibits a particular world view and that there is no such thing as a rational faculty standing above history – led to the belittlement of the principles of natural rights by limiting them a particular time and place. Worse than this — and the modern philosophers, Hobbes and Locke, were to be blamed as well — the principles of natural rights came to be separated from the ancient Greek idea that we can rank ways of life according to their degree of excellence and elevation of the human soul. The modern philosophy of natural right merely afforded individuals the right to choose their own lifestyle without any guidance as to what is “the good life.”

Strauss believed that this relativist liberalism would not be able to withstand challenges from other philosophical outlooks and illiberal ways of life, from Communism and Fascism, for example, unless it was rationally grounded on eternal principles. He thought the ancient Greeks had understood better than anyone else that some truths are deeply grounded in the actual nature of men, not relative to a particular time and culture, but essential to what is best for “man as man.” These truths were summoned up in the modern philosophy of natural rights, though in a flawed manner. The moderns tended to appeal to the lower instincts of humans, to a society that would merely ensure security and the pursuit of pleasure, in defending their ideals of liberty and happiness. But with a proper reading of the ancient texts, and a curriculum based on the “Great Books,” the soul of contemporaneous students could be elevated above a life of trivial pursuits.

This emphasis on absolute, universal, and “natural” standards attracted a number of prominent Christians to Strauss. The Canadian George Grant (1918-1988), for one, was drawn to the potential uses Strauss’s emphasis on eternal values might have to fight off the erosion of Christian conviction in the ever more secular, liberal, and consumerist Canada of his day. Grant, Havers explains, did not quite realize that Strauss was neither a conservative nor a Christian but a staunch proponent of a philosophically based liberalism bereft of any Christian identity. Grant relished the British and Protestant roots of the Anglo-American tradition, though there were certain affinities between him and Strauss; Grant was a firm believer in the superiority of Anglo-Saxon civilization and its rightful responsibility in bringing humanity to a higher cultural level. The difference is that Grant affirmed the religious and ethnic particularities of Anglo-Saxon civilization, whereas Strauss, though a Zionist who believed in a Jewish nation state, sought to portray Anglo-American civilization in a philosophical language cleansed of any Christian particularities and European ethnicity.

Strauss wanted a revised interpretation of Anglo-American citizenship standing above tribal identities and historical particularities. Strauss’s objective was to provide Anglo-American government with a political philosophy that would stand as a bulwark against “intolerable” challenges from the left and the right, which endangered liberalism itself. The West had to affirm the universal truthfulness of its way of life and be guarded against the tolerance of forms of expression that threaten this way of life. Havers observes that Strauss was particularly worried about the inability of liberal regimes, as was the case with the Weimar republic, to face up to illiberal challenges. He wanted a liberal order that would ensure the survival of the Jews, and the best assurance for this was a liberal order that spoke in a neutral and purely philosophical idiom without giving any preference to any religious faith and any historical and ethnic ancestries. He wanted a liberalism that would work to undermine any ancestral or traditionally conservative norms that gave preference to a particular people in the heritage of America’s founding, and thereby may discriminate against Jews. Only in a strictly universal civilization would the Jews feel safe while retaining their identity.

Havers brings up another old conservative, Willmore Kendall (1909-68), who was drawn to Straussian thought even though substantial aspects of his thought were incompatible with Strauss’s. Among these differences was the “majoritarian populism” of Kendall versus the aristocratic elitism of Strauss. The aristocrats Strauss had in mind were philosophers and statesmen who understood the eternal values of the West whereas the majoritarian people Kendall had in mind were Americans who were conservative by tradition and deeply attached to their ancestral roots in America, rather than believers in universal rights concocted by philosophers. While Kendall was drawn to Strauss’s scepticism over unlimited speech, what he feared was not the ways in which particular ethnic/religious groups might use free speech to protect their ancestral rights and thereby violate – from Strauss’s perspective – the universality of liberalism, but “the opposite of what Strauss fear[ed]”: that an open society unmindful of its actual historical roots, allowing unlimited questioning of its ancestral identities, against the natural wishes of the majority for their roots and traditions, would eventually destroy the Anglo-American tradition.

Havers brings up as well Kendall’s call for a restricted immigration policy consistent with majoritarian wishes. While Havers is primarily concerned with the Christian roots of Anglo-American democracy, he identifies this view by Kendall with conservatism proper. The Straussian view that America is an exceptional nation by virtue of being founded on the basis of philosophical propositions, which somehow have elevated this nation to be a model to the world, is, in Havers view, closer to the leftist dismissal of religious identities and traditions than it is to any true conservatism. Conservatives, or Paleo-Conservatives, believe that human identities are not mere private choices arbitrarily decided by abstract individuals in complete disregard of history and the natural dispositions of humans for social groupings with similar ethnic and religious identities.

These differences between the Straussians and old conservatives are all the more peculiar since, as Havers notes, Strauss was very mindful of the particular identities of Jewish people, criticizing those who called for a liberalized form of Jewish identity based on values alone. Jews, Strauss insisted, must maintain fidelity to their own nationality rather than to a “liberal theology,” otherwise they would end up destroying their particular historical identity.

Now, Straussians could well respond that the Anglo-American identity is different, consciously dedicated to universal values, but, as Havers carefully shows, this emphasis on the philosophy of natural rights cannot be properly understood outside the religious ancestry of the founders, and (although Havers is less emphatic about this) outside the customs, institutions and ethnicity of the founders. As the Australian Frank Salter has written:

The United States began as an implicit ethnic state, whose Protestant European identity was taken for granted. As a result, the founding fathers made few remarks about ethnicity, but John Jay famously stated in 1787 that America was ‘one united people, a people descended from the same ancestors,’ a prominent statement in one of the republic’s founding philosophical documents that attracted no disagreement (230) ^[5].

This idea that Western nations are all propositional nations is not restricted to the United States, but has been applied to the settler nations of Canada and Australia, and the entire continent of Europe, under the supposition that, with the Enlightenment, the nations of Europe came to be redefined by such “universal” values as individual rights, separation of church and state, democracy. As a result, mainstream liberals and conservatives today regularly insist that Europe is inherently a “community of values,” not of ethnicity or religion, but of values that belong to humanity. Accordingly, the reasoning goes, if Europe is to be committed to these values it must embrace immigration as part of its identity. Multiculturalism is simply a means of facilitating the participation of immigrants into this universal culture, making them feel accepted by recognizing their particular traditions, while they are gradually nudge to think in a universal way. But, as Salter points out,

This is hardly a complete reading of Enlightenment ideas, which include the birth of modern nationalism, the democratic privileging of majority ethnicity, and the linking of minority emancipation to assimilation. The Enlightenment also celebrates empirical science including biology, which culminated in man’s fuller understanding of himself as part of nature (213).

Liberals in the 19th century were fervent supporters of nationalism and the essential importance of being part of a community with shared traditions and common ancestry. Eric Hobsbawm’s claim that Europeans nations were “ideological constructs” created without a substantial grounding in immemorial lands, folkways, and ethnos, should be contrasted to the ideas of such liberal nationalists as Camillo di Cavour (1810–1861), Max Weber ^[6] (1864–1920), and even John Stuart Mill (1806–1873). While these liberals emphasized a form of nationalism compatible with classical liberal values, they were firm supporters of national identities at a time when a “non-xenophobic nationalism” was meant to acknowledge the presence of what were essentially European ethnic minorities within European nations. None of these liberals ever envisioned the nations of Europe as mere places identified by liberal values belonging to everyone else and obligated to become “welcome” mats for the peoples of the world.

Moreover, Enlightenment thinkers were the progenitors of a science of ethnic differences ^[7], which has since been producing ever more empirical knowledge, and has today convincingly shown that ethnicity is not merely a social construct but also a biological substrate. As Edward O. Wilson, Pierre van den Berghe, and Salter have written, shared ethnicity is an expression of extended kinship at the genetic level; members of an ethnic group are biologically related in the same way that members of a family are related even though the genetic connection is not as strongly marked. Numerous papers – which I will reference below with links — are now coming out supporting the view that humans are ethnocentric and that such altruistic dispositions as sharing, loyalty, caring, and even motherly love, are exhibited primarily and intensively within in-groups rather than toward a universal “we” in disregard for one’s community. Strauss’s concern for the identity of Jews is consistent with this science.

The Straussian language about “natural rights” belonging to “man as man” is mostly gibberish devoid of any historical veracity and scientific support. Hegel long refuted the argument that humans were born with natural rights which they never enjoyed until a few philosophers discovered them and then went on to create ex nihilo Western civilization. Man “in his immediate and natural way of existence” was never the possessor of natural rights. The natural rights the founders spoke about, which were also in varying ways announced in the creation of the nations of Canada and Australia, and prescribed in the modern constitutions of European nations, were acquired and won only through a long historical movement, the origins of which may be traced back to ancient Greece, but which also included, as Havers insists, the history of Christianity and, I would add, the legal history of Rome, the Catholic Middle Ages ^[8], the Renaissance, Protestant Reformation, the Enlightenment, and the Bourgeois Revolutions.

The Straussians believe that the way to overcome the tendency of liberal societies to relativism or the celebration of pluralistic conceptions of life without any sense of ranking the lifestyle of citizens is to impart reverence and patriotic attachment for the Anglo-American tradition by emphasizing not the heterogeneous identity of this tradition but its foundation in the ancient philosophical commitment to “the good” and the “perfection of humanity.” But this effort to instill national commitment by teaching citizens about the classics of ancient Greece and the great statesmen of liberal freedom is doomed to failure and has been a failure. The problem of nihilism is nonexistent in societies with a strong sense of reverence for traditional practices, authoritative patriarchal figures, and a sense of peoplehood and homeland. The way out of the crisis of Western nihilism is to re-nationalize liberalism, throw away the cultural Marxist notion that freedom means liberation from all identities not chosen by the individual, and accentuate the historical and natural-ethnic basis of European identity.

Recent scientific papers on ethnocentrism and human nature:

Oxytocin promotes human ethnocentrism ^[9]

Perhaps goodwill is unlimited but oxytocin-induced goodwill is not ^[10]

Oxytocin Increases Generosity in Humans ^[11]

Oxytocin promotes group-serving dishonesty ^[12]

We Take Care of Our Own ^[13]

Source: http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/06/the-straussian-assault-on-americas.html ^[14]

 

 

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Article printed from Counter-Currents Publishing: http://www.counter-currents.com

 

URL to article: http://www.counter-currents.com/2014/12/the-straussian-assault-on-americas-european-heritage/

 

URLs in this post:

[1] Image: http://www.counter-currents.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/12/Havers.jpg

[2] Leo Strauss and Anglo-American Democracy: A Conservative Critique: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0875804780/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0875804780&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=ZWUAQYNFHAR6IFWN

[3] apologist of the Great Terror: http://blogs.spectator.co.uk/coffeehouse/2013/03/eric-hobsbawm-keeping-the-red-faith/

[4] Nations and Nationalism since 1780: Programme, Myth, Reality: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1107604621/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1107604621&linkCode=as2&tag=countecurrenp-20&linkId=SGA5FVCJO5LHXAKN

[5] (230): http://www.amazon.com/On-Genetic-Interests-Ethnicity-Migration/dp/1412805961

[6] Max Weber: http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/3654673?uid=3739448&uid=2&uid=3737720&uid=4&sid=21104391042883

[7] science of ethnic differences: http://www.amazon.com/Cambridge-History-Eighteenth-Century-Philosophy-Haakonssen/dp/0521418542

[8] Catholic Middle Ages: http://www.amazon.com/Catholic-Church-Built-Western-Civilization/dp/1596983280

[9] Oxytocin promotes human ethnocentrism: http://www.pnas.org/content/108/4/1262.abstract?ijkey=b9ad2efdf008b041812724e617989f6f23ccae23&keytype2=tf_ipsecsha

[10] Perhaps goodwill is unlimited but oxytocin-induced goodwill is not: http://www.pnas.org/content/108/13/E46.full

[11] Oxytocin Increases Generosity in Humans: http://www.plosone.org/article/info:doi%2F10.1371%2Fjournal.pone.0001128

[12] Oxytocin promotes group-serving dishonesty: http://www.pnas.org/content/111/15/5503.abstract

[13] We Take Care of Our Own: http://pss.sagepub.com/content/early/2014/05/06/0956797614531439.abstract

[14] http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/06/the-straussian-assault-on-americas.html: http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/06/the-straussian-assault-on-americas.html

 

Ripensare Gentile e Gramsci

 

DIEGO FUSARO e MARCELLO VENEZIANI: Ripensare Gentile e Gramsci

The Struggle Against Dystopia

Neoliberal Violence in the Age of Orwellian Nightmares

by HENRY A. GIROUX

Ex: http://www.counterpunch.org

The shadow of Orwell’s nightmarish vision of a totalitarian society with its all-embracing reach of surveillance and repression now works its way through American politics like a lethal virus. Orwell’s dystopian apparition of a totalitarian society with its all-embracing reach of surveillance and repression has come to fruition, reshaping the American body politic in the guise of a poorly orchestrated Reality TV show. As Orwell rightly predicted, one of the more significant characteristics of an authoritarian society is its willingness to distort the truth while simultaneously suppressing dissent. But Orwell was only partly right. Today, rather than just agressively instill a sense of fear, dread and isolation, contemporary totalitarian commitment also wins over large number of individuals through appeals to our most debased instincts projected on to hapless others. Our lurid fascination with others’ humiliation and pain is often disguised even to ourselves as entertainment and humor, if perhaps admittedly a little perverse. Under the new authoritarianism fear mixes with the endless production of neoliberal commonsense and a deadening coma-inducing form of celebrity culture. Huxley’s Soma now joins hands with Orwell’s surveillance state.

State terrorism works best when it masks the effects of its power while aggressively producing neoliberal commonsense through diverse cultural apparatuses in order to normalize the values and conditions that legitimate its reign of terror. For instance, Umberto Eco argues that one element of authoritarianism is the rise of an Orwellian version of newspeak, or what he labels as the language of “eternal fascism,” whose purpose is to produce  “an impoverished vocabulary, and an elementary syntax [whose consequence is] to limit the instruments for complex and critical reasoning.”   Dwight Macdonald, writing in the aftermath of World War II and the horrors of the Nazi Holocaust, argues that as more and more people are excluded from the experience of political agency and exhibit “less and less control over the policies” of their governments, ethics is reduced to the status of mere platitudes and politics becomes banal.  What has become clear to many Americans is that the electoral system is bankrupt. As the political process becomes more privatized, outsourced, and overrun with money from corporations and billionaires, a wounded republic is on its death bed, gasping for life.   In addition, as the state becomes more tightly controlled, organized, and rationalized by the financial elite, politics and morality are deprived of any substance and relevance, thus making it difficult for people to either care about the obligations of critical citizenship or to participate in the broader landscape of politics and power. Far easier to wax ironic or cynical.

For Orwell, the state was organized through traditional forms of authoritarian political power. What Orwell could not have imagined was the reconfiguration of the state under a form of corporate sovereignty in which corporations, the financial elite, and the ultra-rich completely controlled the state and its modes of governance. Hyper-capitalism was no longer merely protected by the state, it has become the state. As is well known, the fossil fuel companies, megabanks, and defense industries such as Boeing, General dynamics Northrop Grumman, and Lockheed Martin now control the major seats of political power and the commanding institutions necessary to insure that the deeply anti-democratic state rule in the interests of the few while exploiting and repressing the many. This was recently made clear by a Princeton University scientific study that analyzed policies passed by the U.S. government from 1981 to 2002 and discovered that vast majority of such policies had nothing to do with the needs and voiced interests of the American people. As the authors pointed out, “the preferences of the average American appear to have only a minuscule, near-zero, statistically non-significant impact upon public policy.”[1] Put bluntly, the study made clear that the opinions of the public per se simply do not count. The study concluded that rather than being a democracy the United States had become an oligarchy where power is effectively wielded by “the rich, the well connected and the politically powerful, as well as particularly well placed individuals in institutions like banking and finance or the military.”[2]

As a result of this mode of governance, individual and social agency are in crisis and are disappearing in a society in which 99 percent of the public, especially young people and minorities of class and color are considered disposable. At a time when politics is nation-based and power is global, the rulers of the Orwellian state no longer care about the social contract and make no compromises in their ruthless pursuits of power and profits. The social contract, especially in the United States, is on life support as social provisions are cut, pensions are decimated, and the certainty of a once secure job disappears. The new free-floating global elite are unrestrained by the old rules of politics and not only refuse to make any political concessions, they also no longer believe in long-term social investments and are more than willing to condemn those populations now considered disposable to a savage form of casino capitalism.

Isolation, privatization, and the cold logic of a mad version of neoliberal rationality have created new social formations and a social order in which it becomes difficult to form communal bonds, deep connections, a sense of intimacy, and long term commitments. In the manner of Huxley’s cautionary forewarning, people now participate willingly in their own oppression. Neoliberalism has created a society of ruling brutes for whom pain and suffering are now viewed as entertainment, warfare a permanent state of existence, and militarism as the most powerful force shaping masculinity. Politics has taken an exit from ethics and thus the issue of [3]social costs is divorced from any form of intervention in the world. This is the ideological script of political zombies who, as Alain Badiou points out, now control a lifeless version of democracy. Atomization, emotional self-management, and the ideology of self-interests are the curse of both neoliberal societies and democracy itself. Terror now takes the form of the atomization of individual agency and the politics of a moral coma.[4] Poverty, joblessness, low wage work, and the threat of state sanctioned violence produce among many Americans the ongoing fear of a life of perpetual misery and an ongoing struggle simply to survive. Collective paralysis now governs American society, reinforced by a fixed hedonism. Risk taking is individualized through a shameless appeal to resilience.[5] Insecurity coupled with a climate of fear and surveillance dampens dissent and promotes a kind of ethical tranquilization fed daily by the mobilization of endless moral panics, whether they reference immigrants allegedly storming American borders or foreign terrorists blowing up shopping centers. Such conditions more often than not produce withdrawal, insecurity, paranoia, and cynicism rather than rebellion among the American populace.

Americans now live under a form of casino capitalism that revels in deception, kills the radical imagination, depoliticizes the public, and promulgates what might be called an all-embracing punishing state. Idealism and hope for a better future has been replaced by a repressive disciplining machine and a surveillance state that turns every space into a war zone, criminalizes social problems, and legitimates state violence as the most important practice for addressing important social issues. The carceral state and the surveillance state now work together to trump security over freedom and justice while solidifying the rule of the financial elite and the reigning financial services such as banks, investment houses, and hedge funds, all of which profit from the expanding reach of the punishing state. Americans now live in what Robert Jay Lifton once described as a “death-saturated age”[6] as political authority and power have been transformed into a savage form of corporate governance and rule. The United States has moved from a market economy to a market society in which all vestiges of the public good and social contract are viewed with disdain and aggressively eliminated.

The basic elements of casino capitalism and its death wish for democracy are now well known: government should only exists to protect the ruling elite; self-interest is the only organizing principle of agency, risk is privatize; consumption is the only obligation of citizenship; sovereignty is market-driven; deregulation, privatization, and commodification are legitimate elements of the corporate state; market ideology is the template for governing all of social life, exchange values are the only values that matter, and the yardstick of profit is the only viable measure of the good life and advanced society. With the return of the new Gilded Age, not only are democratic values and social protections at risk, but the civic and formative cultures that make such values and protections central to democratic life are being eviscerated. At the heart of neoliberalism in its diverse forms is the common thread of breeding corporate and political monsters, widespread violence, the decimation of political life, and the withdrawal into private

We are witnessing the emergence of new forms of repression that echo the warnings of Aldous Huxley and reach deeply into the individual and collective psyches of the populace. Extending Huxley’s analysis, I want to argue that under regimes of neoliberalism, material violence is matched by symbolic violence through the proliferation of what I call disimagination machines. Borrowing from Georges Didi-Huberman’s use of the term, “disimagination machine,” I extend its meaning to refer to images, along with institutions, discourses, and other modes of representation that undermine the capacity of individuals to bear witness to a different and critical sense of remembering, agency, ethics, and collective resistance.[7] The “disimagination machine” is both a set of cultural apparatuses extending from schools and mainstream media to an idiotic celebrity culture and advertising apparatus that functions primarily to undermine the ability of individuals to think critically, imagine the unimaginable, and engage in thoughtful and critical dialogue. Put simply, to become critically informed citizens of the world.

Neoliberalism’s disimagination machines, extending from schools to print, audio, and screen cultures, are now used to serve the forces of ethical tranquilization as they produce and legitimate endless degrading and humiliating images of the poor, youthful protesters, and others considered disposable. The public pedagogy and market-driven values of neoliberalism constitute a war zone that suppresses any vestige of critical thought while creating the conditions and policies for expanding the boundaries of terminal exclusion. Viewed as unworthy of civic inclusion, immigrants, youth, protesters and others deemed alien or hostile to the mechanizations of privatization, consumption, and commodification are erased from any viable historical and political context. Such groups now fill the landscape of neoliberalism’s dream world. Vast numbers of the American public are now subject to repressive modes of power that criminalize their behavior and relegates them to those public spaces that accelerate their invisibility while exposing them to the harsh machinery of social death.

The neoliberal politics of disposability with its expanding machineries of civic and social death, terminal exclusion, and zones of abandonment constitute a new historical conjuncture and must be addressed within the emergence of a ruthless form of casino capitalism, which is constituted not only as an economic system but also a pedagogical force rewriting the meaning of common sense, agency, desire, and politics itself. The capitalist dream machine is back with huge profits for the ultra-rich, hedge fund managers, and major players in the financial service industries. In these new landscapes of wealth, exclusion, and fraud, the commanding institutions of a savage and fanatical capitalism promote a winner-take-all ethos and aggressively undermine the welfare state while waging a counter revolution against the principles of social citizenship and democracy.

Politics and power are now on the side of lawlessness as is evident in the state’s endless violations of civil liberties, freedom of speech, and the most constitutional rights, mostly done in the name of national security. Lawlessness wraps itself in repressive government policies such as the Patriot Act, the National Defense Authorization Act, Military Commissions, and a host of other legal illegalities. These would include the “right of the president “to order the assassination of any citizen whom he considers allied with terrorists,”[8] use secret evidence to detain individuals indefinitely, develop a massive surveillance panoptican to monitor every communication used by citizens who have not committed a crime, employ state torture against those considered enemy combatants, and block the courts from prosecuting those officials who commit such heinous crimes.[9] The ruling corporate elites have made terror rational and fear the modus operandi of politics.

Power in its most repressive forms is now deployed not only by the police and other forces of repression such as the 17 American intelligence agencies but also through a predatory and commodified culture that turns violence into entertainment, foreign aggression into a video game, and domestic violence into goose-stepping celebration of masculinity and the mad values of militarism. The mediaeval turn to embracing forms of punishment that inflict pain on the psyches and the bodies of young people, poor minorities, and immigrants, in particular, is part of a larger immersion of society in public spectacles of violence. Under the neo-Darwinian ethos of survival of the fittest, the ultimate form of entertainment becomes the pain and humiliation of others, especially those considered disposable and powerless, who are no longer an object of compassion, but of ridicule and amusement. Pleasure loses its emancipatory possibilities and degenerates into a pathology in which misery is celebrated as a source of fun. High octane violence and human suffering are now considered consumer entertainment products designed to raise the collective pleasure quotient. Brute force and savage killing replayed over and over in the culture now function as part of an anti-immune system that turns the economy of genuine pleasure into a mode of sadism that saps democracy of any political substance and moral vitality, even as the body politic appears engaged in a process of cannibalizing its own youth. It gets worse. The visibility of extreme violence in films such as John Wick (2014) and The Equalizer (2014) offer one of the few spaces amid the vacuity of a consumer culture where Americans can feel anything anymore.

Needless to say, extreme violence is more than a spectacle for upping the pleasure quotient of those disengaged from politics; it is also part of a punishing machine that spends more on putting poor minorities in jail than educating them. As American society becomes more militarized and “civil society organizes itself for the production of violence,”[10] the capillaries of militarization feed on and shape social institutions extending from the schools to local police forces. The police, in particular, have been turned into soldiers who view the neighbourhoods in which they operate as war zones. Outfitted with full riot gear, submachine guns, armoured vehicles, and other lethal weapons imported from the battlefields of Iraq and Iran, their mission is to assume battle-ready behaviour. Is it any wonder that violence rather than painstaking neighbourhood police work and community outreach and engagement becomes the norm for dealing with alleged ‘criminals’, especially at a time when more and more behaviours are being criminalised? Is it any wonder that the impact of the rapid militarization of local police forces on poor black communities is nothing short of terrifying and symptomatic of the violence that takes place in advanced genocidal states? For instance, according to a recent report produced by the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement entitled Operation Ghetto Storm, “police officers, security guards, or self-appointed vigilantes extra judicially killed at least 313 African-Americans in 2012…This means a black person was killed by a security officer every 28 hours.” The report suggests that ‘the real number could be much higher’.[11] Michelle Alexander adds to the racist nature of the punishing state by pointing out that “There are more African American adults under correctional control today — in prison or jail, on probation or parole — than were enslaved in 1850, a decade before the Civil War began.”[12] Meanwhile the real violence used by the state against poor minorities of color, women, immigrants, and low income adults barely gets mentioned, except when it is so spectacularly visible and cruel that it cannot be ignored as in the case of Eric Garner who was choked him to death by a New York City policeman after he was confronted for illegally selling untaxed cigarettes.

The authoritarian state empties politics of all vestiges of democracy given that the decisions that shape all aspects of the commanding institutions of society are now made largely in private, behind closed doors by the anonymous financial elite, corporate CEOs, rich bankers, the unassailable leaders of the military-industrial complex, and other kingpins of the neoliberal state. At the same time, valuable resources and wealth are extracted from the commons in order to maximize the profits of the rich while the public is treated to a range of distractions and diversions that extend from “military shock and awe overseas” to the banalities of a commodified culture industry and celebrity obsessed culture that short-circuits thought and infantilizes everything it touches. In the end, as Chomsky points out this amounts to an attempt by a massive public relations industry and various mainstream cultural apparatuses “to undermine democracy by trying to get uninformed people to make irrational choices.”[13]

Neoliberal authoritarianism has changed the language of politics and everyday life through a poisonous public pedagogy that turns reason on its head and normalizes a culture of fear, war, and exploitation. Even as markets unravel and neoliberalism causes increased misery, “the broader political and social consensus remains in place” suggesting that the economic crisis is not matched by a similar crisis in consciousness, ideas, language, and values.[14] Underlying the rise of the authoritarian state and the forces that hide in the shadows is a hidden politics indebted to promoting crippling forms of historical and social amnesia. The new authoritarianism is strongly indebted to what Orwell once called a “protective stupidity” that corrupts political life and divest language of its critical content.[15]

Yet, even as the claims and promises of a neoliberal utopia have been transformed into a Dickensian nightmare as the United States, and increasingly Canada, succumb to the pathologies of political corruption, the redistribution of wealth upward into the hands of the 1 percent, the rise of the surveillance state, and the use of the criminal justice system as a way of dealing with social problems, Orwell’s dark fantasy of a fascist future continues without massive opposition. Domestic terrorism now functions to punish young people whenever they exercise the right of dissent, protesting peacefully, or just being targeted because they are minorities of class and color and considered a threat and in some cases disposable, as was recently evident in the killing by a white policemen of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri.

The emergence of the warrior cop and the surveillance state go hand in hand and are indicative not only of state-sanctioned racism but also of the rise of the authoritarian state and the dismantling of civil liberties. Brutality mixed with attacks on freedom of dissent and peaceful protest prompts memories of past savage regimes such as the dictatorships in Latin America in the 1970s and 1980s. The events in Ferguson speak to a history of violence in United States that Americans have chosen to forget at their own risk. Historical amnesia takes a toll. For instance, amid the growing intensity of state terrorism, violence becomes the DNA of a society that not only has a history of forgetting, but also refuses to deal with larger structural issues such as massive inequality in wealth and power, a government that now unapologetically serves the rich and powerful corporate interests, the growing militarization of everyday life, while elevating the power of money to an organising principle of governance.[16] What all of this suggests is a dismantling of what Hannah Arendt called “the prime importance of the political.”[17]

Underlying the carnage caused by neoliberal capitalism is a free market ideology in which individuals are cut off from the common good along with any sense of compassion for the other.[18] Economic Darwinism individualizes the social by shredding social bonds that are not commodified and in doing so depoliticizes, atomizes, and infantilizes the broader public. All problems are now defined as a problem of faulty character and a lack of individual resilience and responsibility. At the same time, freedom is reduced to consumerism and a modern day version of narcissism becomes the only guiding principle for living one’s life. Only under such circumstances can a book titled Selfish written by the vacuous Kim Kardashian and filled with 2000 selfies be published and celebrated in the mainstream media, mirroring a deeply disturbing principle of the larger society. What is crucial to recognize is that the central issues of power and politics can lead to cynicism and despair if casino capitalism is not addressed as a system of social relations that diminishes—through its cultural politics, modes of commodification, and market pedagogies—the capacities and possibilities of individuals and groups to move beyond the vicissitudes of necessity and survival in order to fully participate in exercising some control over the myriad forces that shape their daily lives.

What exists in the United States today and increasingly in Canada is fundamentally a new mode of politics, one wedded to a notion of power removed from accountability of any kind, and this poses a dangerous and calamitous threat to democracy itself, because such power is difficult to understand, analyze, and counter. The collapse of the public into the private, the depoliticization of the citizenry in the face of an egregious celebrity culture, and the disabling of education as a critical public sphere makes it easier for neoliberal capital with its hatred of democracy and celebration of the market to render its ideologies, values, and practices as a matter of common sense, removed from critical inquiry and dissent.

With privatization comes a kind of collective amnesia about the potential democratic role of government, the importance of the social contract, and the importance of public values. For instance, war, intelligence operations, prisons, schools, transportation systems, and a range of other operations once considered public have been outsourced or simply handed over to private contractors who are removed from any sense of civic and political accountability. The social contract and the institutions that give it meaning have been transformed into entitlements administered and colonized by largely the corporate interests and the financial elite. Policy is no longer being written by politicians accountable to the American public. Instead, policies concerning the defense budget, deregulation, health care, public transportation, job training programs, and a host of other crucial areas are now largely written by lobbyists who represent mega corporations. How else to explain the weak deregulation policies following the economic crisis of 2007 or the lack of a public option in Obama’s health care policies? Or, for that matter, the more serious retreat from any viable notion of the political imagination that “requires long-term organizing—e.g., single-payer health care, universally free public higher education and public transportation, federal guarantees of housing and income security.”[19] The liberal center has moved to the right on these issues while the left has become largely absent and ineffective. Yet the fight for developing a radical democracy must continue on a domestic and global scale.

Democracy is not compatible with capitalism but is congruent with a version of democratic socialism in which the wealth, resources, and benefits of a social order are shared in an equitable and just manner. Democracy as a promise means that society can never be just enough and that the self-reflection and struggles that enable all members of the community to participate in the decisions and institutions that shape their lives must be continually debated, safeguarded, and preserved at all costs. The rebuilding of a radical democracy must be accompanied with placing a high priority on renewing the social contract, embracing the demands of the commons, encouraging social investments, and the regeneration of the social contract. These are only a few of the issues that should be a central goal for the development of a broad-based radical social movement. I want to emphasize that I am not suggesting that developing a new understanding of politics as a call to reclaim a radical democracy be understood as simply a pragmatic adjustment of the institutions of liberal democracy or a return to the social democracy of the New Deal and Great Society.

On the contrary, any rethinking of the political can only be comprehended as part of a radical break from liberalism and formalistic politics if there is to be any move towards a genuine democracy in which matters of equality, power, and justice are central to what can be called a radical democratic politics. Such a task necessitates a politics and pedagogy that not only expands critical awareness and promotes critical modes of inquiry but also sustains public spheres, builds new modes of solidarity and connections and promotes strategies and organizations that create not simply ruptures such as massive demonstrations but real changes that are systemic and long standing. If such a politics is to make any difference, it must be worldly; that is, it must incorporate a critical public pedagogy and an understanding of cultural politics that not only contemplates social problems but also addresses the conditions for new forms of democratic political exchange and enables new forms of agency, power, and collective struggle. The collapse of the United States into neoliberal authoritarianism signals not simply a crisis of politics and democracy, but a crisis of ideas, values, and agency itself. Hence, calling for a revival of the educative nature of politics and the radical imagination is more than a simply call to find ways to change consciousness; it is first and foremost an attempt to understand that education is at the center of a struggle over what kinds of agency will be created in the interest of legitimating the present and producing a particular kind of future. This is an imminently educative, moral, and political task and it is only through such recognition that initial steps can be taken to challenge the powerful ideological and affective spaces through which neoliberalism produces the desires, identities, and values that bind people to its forms of predatory governance.

The moral, political, and economic violence of neoliberalism must be made visible, its institutional structures dismantled, and the elite interests it serves exposed. The fog of historical, social and political amnesia must be eliminated through the development of educational programs, pedagogical practices, ideological interventions, and public narratives that provide the critical and analytical tools to enable the public to analyze both underlying ideologies and institutions of neoliberal capitalism as well as the intellectual and economic resources needed to provide meaningful alternatives to the corporate authoritarianism that passes itself off as an updated mode of democracy. What is important here is that the struggle against neoliberalism focus on those forms of domination that pose a threat to those public spheres essential to developing the critical formative cultures that nourish modes of thinking, analysis, and social formations necessary for a radical democracy.

In addition, the left has to do more than chart out the mechanisms through which neoliberal authoritarianism sustains itself. And for too many on the left this means simply understanding the economic forces that drive neoliberal global capitalism. While this structural logic is important, it does not go far enough. As Stuart Hall has insisted “There’s no politics without identification. People have to invest something of themselves, something that they recognize is meaningful to them, or speaks to their condition and without that moment of recognition” any effort to change the way people inhabit social relations of domination will fail.[20] Pierre Bourdieu takes this logic further in arguing that left has often failed to recognize “that the most important forms of domination are not only economic but also intellectual and pedagogical, and lie on the side of belief and persuasion”[21] He insists, rightly, that it is crucial for the left and other progressives to recognize that intellectuals bear an enormous responsibility for challenging this form of domination by developing tactics “that lie on the side of the symbolic and pedagogical dimensions of struggle.”[22]

If neoliberal authoritarianism is to be challenged and overcome, it is crucial that intellectuals, unions, workers, young people, and various social movements unite to reclaim democracy as a central element in fashioning a radical imagination that foregrounds the necessity for drastically altering the material and symbolic forces that hide behind a counterfeit claim to participatory democracy. This means imagining a radical democracy that can provide a living wage, decent health care, public works, and massive investments in education, child care, housing for the poor, along with a range of other crucial social provisions that can make a difference between living and dying for those who have been cast into the ranks of the disposable.

There are new signs indicating that the search for a new understanding of politics and the refashioning of a radical imagination are emerging, especially in Greece, Germany, Spain, and Denmark, where expressions of new political formations can be found in political groups such as Podemos, Die Linke, Syriza, and the Red-Green Alliance. While these political formations have differences, what they share is a rejection of stale reformism that has marked liberal politics for the last 40 years. These new political formations are offering alternatives to a new kind of social order in which capitalism does not equal democracy. But more importantly, they are not tied merely to unions and older political factions and are uniting with social movements under a broad and comprehensive vision of politics and change that goes beyond identity politics and organizes for the long haul. Moreover, as Juan Pablo Ferrero points out, these parties not only take seriously the need for economic change but also the need for new cultural formations and modes of change.[23] The struggle against neoliberal common sense is as important as the struggle against those institutions and material modes of capital that are the foundation of traditional politics of resistance. Language, communication, and pedagogy are crucial to these movements as part of their attempt to construct a new kind of informed and critical political agent, one freed from the orbits of neoliberal privatization and the all-embracing reach of a commodified and militarized society.

What Podemos, Syriza, and other new political movements on the left make clear is that the fight against neoliberalism and the related anti-democratic tendencies that inform it must not settle for simply reforming the existing parameters of the social order. Neoliberalism has created an economic, cultural, and social system and social order that is not only as broken as it is dangerous, but also pathological in the violence and misery it produces. Any viable struggle must acknowledge that if the current modes of domination are to change, a newly developed emphasis must be placed on creating the formative culture that inspires and energizes young people, educators, artists, and others to organize and struggle for the promise of a substantive democracy.

At the same time, particular injustices must be understood through the specificity of the conditions in which they develop and take hold and also in relation to the whole of the social order. This means developing modes of analyses capable of connecting isolated and individualized issues to more generalized notions of freedom, and developing theoretical frameworks in which it becomes possible to translate private troubles into broader more systemic conditions. At the very least, a new political imaginary suggests developing modes of analyses that connects the dots. This is a particularly important goal given that the fragmentation of the left has been partly responsible for its inability to develop a wide political and ideological umbrella to address a range of problems extending from extreme poverty, the assault on the environment, the emergence of the permanent warfare state, the abolition of voting rights, the assault on public servants, women’s rights, and social provisions, and a range of other issues that erode the possibilities for a radical democracy. Neoliberalism stands for the death of democracy and the commodification and repression of any movement that is going to successfully challenge it.

One of the most serious challenges facing progressives is the task of developing a discourse of both critique and possibility. This means insisting that democracy begins to fail and political life becomes impoverished in the absence of those vital public spheres such as higher education in which civic values, public scholarship, and social engagement allow for a more imaginative grasp of a future that takes seriously the demands of justice, equity, and civic courage. Such a challenge demands not only confronting symptoms as a way of decreasing the misery and human suffering that people experience on a daily basis, but most importantly addressing the root causes that produce the despotism and culture of cruelty that marks the current period. The time has come to develop a political language in which civic values, social responsibility, and the institutions that support them become central to invigorating and fortifying a new era of civic imagination, and a renewed sense of social agency. A revitalized politics for imagining a radical democracy must promote an impassioned international social movement with a vision, organization, and set of strategies to challenge the neoliberal nightmare engulfing the planet. The dystopian worlds of Orwell and Huxley are sutured in fear, atomization, and a paralyzing anxiety. Unfortunately, these dystopian visions are no longer works of fiction. The task ahead is to relegate them to the realm of dystopian fiction so they can remind us that a radical democracy is not simply a political project, but a way of life that has to be struggled over endlessly.

Henry A. Giroux currently holds the McMaster University Chair for Scholarship in the Public Interest in the English and Cultural Studies Department and a Distinguished Visiting Professorship at Ryerson University. His most recent books are America’s Education Deficit and the War on Youth (Monthly Review Press, 2013) and Neoliberalism’s War on Higher Education (Haymarket Press, 2014). His web site is www.henryagiroux.com.

Notes. 

[1] Martin Gilens and Benjamin I. Page, “Testing Theories of American Politics: Elites, Interest Groups, and Average Citizens,” Perspectives on Politics, Volume 12 / Issue 03 (September 2014), p 581.

[2]Tom McKay, “Princeton Concludes What Kind of Government America Really Has, and It’s Not a Democracy,” Popular Resistance (April 16, 2014). Online:

http://www.policymic.com/articles/87719/princeton-concludes-what-kind-of-government-america-really-has-and-it-s-not-a-democracy

[3] Alain Badiou, The Rebirth of History, trans. Gregory Elliott (London, UK: Verso, 2012), p. 6.

[4] Leo Lowenthal, “Atomization of Man,” False Prophets: Studies in Authoritarianism, (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Books, 1987), pp. 191-182

[5] Brad Evans and Julien Reid, Resilient Life: The Art of living Dangerously (London: Polity, 2014).

[6] Robert Jay Lifton, Death in Life: Survivors of Hiroshima (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1987), p. 479. See Lynn Worsham’s brilliant use of Lifton’s work in her “Thinking with Cats (More to Follow),” JAC 30:3-4 (2010), pp. 405-433.

[7] Georges Didi-Huberman, Images in Spite of All: Four Photographs from Auschwitz, trans. Shane B. Lillis (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008), pp. 1-2.

[8] Jonathan Turley, “10 reasons the U.S. is no longer the land of the free,” The Washington Post, (January 13, 2012). Online:

http://articles.washingtonpost.com/2012-01-13/opinions/35440628_1_individual-rights-indefinite-detention-citizens

[9] For a clear expose of the emerging surveillance state, see Glenn Greenwald, No Place to Hide (New York: Signal, 2014); Julia Angwin, Dragnet Nation: A Quest for Privacy, Security, and Freedom in a World of Relentless Surveillance (New York: Times Books, 2014); Heidi Boghosian, Spying on Democracy: Government Surveillance, Corporate Power, and Public Resistance, (City Lights Books, 2013).

[10] Catherine Lutz, “Making War at Home in the United States: Militarization and the Current Crisis,” American Anthropologist, (104:3, 2002), pp. (723)

[11] Adam Hudson, “1 Black Man Is Killed Every 28 Hours by Police or Vigilantes: America Is Perpetually at War with Its Own People,” AlterNet (March 28, 2013). Online: http://www.alternet.org/news-amp-politics/1-black-man-killed-every-28-hours-police-or-vigilantes-america-perpetually-war-its; see also the report titled Operation Ghetto Storm. Online: http://mxgm.org/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/Operation-Ghetto-Storm.pdf

[12]Michelle Alexander, “Michelle Alexander, The Age of Obama as a Racial Nightmare,” Tom Dispatch (March 25, 2012). Online: http://www.tomdispatch.com/post/175520/best_of_tomdispatch%3A_michelle_alexander,_the_age_of_obama_as_a_racial_nightmare/

[13] Noam Chomsky, “The Kind of Anarchism I believe in, and What’s Wrong with Litertarians,” AlterNet (March 28, 2013). Online: http://www.alternet.org/civil-liberties/noam-chomsky-kind-anarchism-i-believe-and-whats-wrong-libertarians

[14] Stuart Hall, Doreen Massey, and Michael Rustin, “After neoliberalism: analysing the present,” Soundings (Spring 2013). Online”

http://www.lwbooks.co.uk/journals/soundings/pdfs/s53hallmasseyrustin.pdf

[15] Orville Schell, “Follies of Orthodoxy,” What Orwell Didn’t Know: Propaganda and the New Face of American Politics, (New York, NY: Perseus Books Group, 2007), xviii

[16] See, especially, Radley Balko, Rise of the Warrior Cop: The Militarization of America’s Police Forces (New York: Public Affairs, 2013), Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow (New York: The New Press, 2010), and (and Jill Nelson, ed. Police Brutality (New York: Norton, 2000).

[17] Hannah Arendt, Hannah Arendt: The Last Interview and Other Conversations, (Brooklyn, NY. : Melville House Publishing, 2013), pp. 33-34.

[18] Paul Buchheit, “The Carnage of Capitalism,” AlterNet (August 17, 2014). Online:

http://www.commondreams.org/views/2014/08/18/carnage-capitalism

[19] Adolph Reed Jr., “Nothing Left: The Long, Slow Surrender of American Liberals,” Harper’s Magazine (March 2014), p. 29.

[20] Stuart Hall and Les Back, “In Conversation: At Home and Not at Home”, Cultural Studies, Vol. 23, No. 4, (July 2009), pp. 680-681

[21] Pierre Bourdieu and Gunter Grass, “The ‘Progressive’ Restoration: A Franco-German Dialogue,” New Left Review 14 (March-April, 2002), P. 2.

[22] Pierre Bourdieu, Acts of Resistance (New York: Free Press, 1998), p. 11.

[23] Juan Pablo Ferrero, “Are you ready for a new kind of left-wing politics?” The Conversation (October 29, 2014). Online: http://theconversation.com/are-you-ready-for-a-new-kind-of-left-wing-politics-33511

 

Karl Jaspers, the Axial Age, and a Common History for Humanity

Karl Jaspers, the Axial Age, and a Common History for Humanity

by Ricardo Duchesne

Ex: http://www.eurocanadian.ca

 

The Philosophers of the "Axial Age": Socrates, Confucius, Buddha and Zarathustra

 

From the nineteenth century through the 1960s and 70s, World History books did recognize the varying accomplishments of all civilizations in the world, but most authors and teachers took for granted the fact that Europeans deserved more attention particularly in view of their irrefutable influence on the rest of the world after their discovery of the Americas, development of modern science and global spread of modern technology.

But this Western-oriented teaching was increasingly rejected by historians who felt that all the peoples of the earth deserved equal attention. A major difficulty confronted this feeling: how can a new history of all humans — "universal" in this respect — be constructed in light of the clear pre-eminence of Europeans in so many fields?

It soon became apparent that the key was to do away with the idea of progress, which had become almost synonymous with the achievements of the West. The political climate was just right, the West was at the center of everything that seemed wrong in the world and in opposition to everything that aspired to be good: the threat of nuclear destruction, the prolonged Vietnam War, the rise of pan-Arabic and pan African identities, the "liberation movements" in Latin America, the Black civil rights riots, the women's movement.

More than anything, the affluent West was at the center of a world capitalist system wherein the rest of the world seemed to be systematically "underdeveloped" at the expense of the very "progression" of the West. Millions of students were being taught that the capitalist West, in the words of Karl Marx, had progressed to become master of the world "dripping from head to foot, from every pore, with blood and dirt".

The idea of Western progress was eventually replaced with the idea of "world history connected". Students would now have to learn that all humans irrespective of cultural and historical differences were alike as homo sapiens, as members of the same planet, and as migratory creatures who had made history in unison. The aim was hardly that Europeans were creatively involved in the creation of Chinese, Mesopotamian, or Mayan civilization; it was that they were morally and economically responsible for the "underdevelopment" of civilizations that were once more developed than the Germanic Barbarians of the Dark Ages — while insisting simultaneously that non-Europeans were the ultimate originators or co-participators of every great epoch in Europe's history.

But before this great fabrication was imposed on unsuspecting white students, a preparatory, though by no means identical, idea had been articulated by a German named Karl Jaspers: the notion that the major civilizations of the Old World experienced, more or less at the same time, a "spiritual process" characterized by a common set of religious, psychological, and philosophical inquiries about what it means to be "specifically human". The argument was that humanity, at this point in history, together, came to pose universal questions about the meaning of life with similar answers.

The Goal of Jasper's Axial Age

Jaspers, a highly respected philosopher, argued in The Origin and Goal of History which was published in 1949 a few years after the end of WWII that Western culture was not uniquely gifted with ideas that bespoke of mankind generally and the course of history universally; other major civilizations, too, had espoused outlooks about humanity together with moral precepts with universal content.

Jaspers believed that this ability was "empirically" made possible by the occurrence of a fundamental "spiritual" change between 800 and 200 BC, which gave "rise to a common frame of historical self-comprehension for all peoples — for the West, for Asia, and for all men on earth, without regard to particular articles of faith". Believing that these spiritual changes occurred simultaneously across the world, Jaspers called it the "Axial Period". It is worth quoting in full Jasper's identification of the main protagonists of this period:

 

The most extraordinary events are concentrated in this period. Confucius and Lao-tse were living in China, all the schools of Chinese philosophy came into being, including those of Mo-ti, Chuang-tse, Lieh-tsu and a host of others; India produced the Upanishads and Buddha and, like China, ran the whole gamut of philosophical possibilities down to skepticism, to materialism , sophism and nihilism; in Iran Zarathustra taught a challenging view of the world as a struggle between good and evil; in Palestine the prophets made their appearance, from Elijah, by way of Isaiah and Jeremiah to Deutero-Isaiah; Greece witnessed the appearance of Homer, of the Philosophers — Parmenides, Heraclitus and Plato — of the tragedians, Thucydides and Archimedes. Everything implied by these names developed during these few centuries almost simultaneously in China, India, and the West, without any one of these regions knowing of the others (2).

 

Jaspers used certain amorphous philosophical phrases to bring out what was novel spiritually about this Axial age: "man becomes conscious of Being as a whole...He asks radical questions...By consciously recognizing the limits he sets himself the highest goals. He experiences absoluteness in the face of self hood" (2). But in some instances he offered more concrete sentences: "hitherto unconsciously accepted ideas, customs and conditions were subjected to examination, questioned and liquidated" (2). Essentially, in this Axial Age, the age of myths came to "an end".

 

The Greek, Indian and Chinese philosophers were unmythical in their decisive insights, as were the prophets [of the Bible] in their ideas of God (3).

 

A number of religious figures, philosophers and prophets came to rely more on their own judgments, visions, and reasoning powers: logos was set "against mythos" (3). Humans were now willing to rely on their rationality to make sense of the cosmos, to draw a clearer contrast between the inner world of consciousness, reflection, and the outer of accepted norms and beliefs, subject and object, spirit and matter. Combined with this spiritual awakening, came the idea of a transcendental One God as the basis of a new ethics against unreal demons and as the locus for thinking what was morally right for all.

It is not that the philosophical outlooks of these civilizations were identical, but that they exhibited similar breakthroughs in posing universal questions about the "human condition", what is the ultimate source of all things? what is our relation to the universe? what is the Good? what are human beings? Prior cultures were more particularized, tribal, polytheistic, and devoid of self-awareness regarding the universal characteristics of human existence. From the Axial Age onward, "world history receives the only structure and unity that has endured — at least until our own time" (8).

The central aim of Jasper's book was to drive home the notion that the different faiths and races of the world were once running along "parallel lines" of spiritual development, and that we should draw on this "common" spiritual source to avoid the calamity of another World War. The fact that these civilizations had reached a common spiritual point of development, without any direct influences between them, was likely, in his view, the "manifestation of some profound common element, the one primal source of humanity" (12). We humans have much in common despite our differences.

German Guilt requires a Common History

This notion of an Axial Age, with which Jaspers came to be identified, and which has been accepted by many established world historians, historical sociologists and philosophers, is also a claim he felt in a personal way (as a German) in the aftermath of the Second World War. According to Jaspers, after the end of the Axial Age around 200 BC, the major civilizations had ceased to follow "parallel movements close to each other" and instead began to "diverge" and "finally became deeply estranged from one another" (12). The Nazi experience was, in his estimation, an extreme case of divergence.

It should be noted, in this vein, that Jaspers, whose wife was Jewish, was the author of a much discussed book, The Question of German Guilt, in which he extended culpability to Germany as a whole, to every German even those who were not members of the Nazi party. A passage from this book, cited upfront in a BBC documentary, The Nazis — A Warning from History, reads:

 

That which has happened is a warning. To forget it is guilt. It must be continually remembered. It was possible for this to happen, and it remains possible for it to happen again at any minute. Only in knowledge can it be prevented.

 

The intention behind the idea of an Axial Age was to induce in humans an awareness of themselves as beings with a profound spiritual unity, nurturing a sense of "human solidarity". But this was only the beginning of what was soon to become a culture-wide effort on the part of Western elites to do away with any notion of Western uniqueness by framing its history as part of a "common" historical narrative of interacting and mutually evolving civilizations. It was also the beginning of an effort to instill on European natives the belief that they were citizens of propositional nations, and since these propositions could be held in common by all humans, they were citizens of the world and the inhabitants of the world were potential citizens of their nations. Germanness, in the words of Jürgen Habermas, would "no longer be based on ethnicity, but founded on citizenship". Habermas, a keen admirer of Jaspers, would be one of countless others embracing this civic/cosmopolitan notion of citizenship.

Hannah Arendt

An interesting figure drawn to the idea of a common historical experience, in the early days after WWII, was Hannah Arendt, a student of Jaspers. She obtained a copy of The Origin and Goal of History as she was completing her widely acclaimed book, The Origins of Totalitarianism. It is quite revealing that Elisabeth Young-Bruehl's traces, in a short essay titled Hannah Arendt's Jewish Identity, the roots of Arendt's cosmopolitanism to the role of the Jews of Palestine as one of the Axial Age peoples. Together with Jaspers, Arendt came to share

 

the project of thinking about what kind of history was needed for facing the events of the war and the Holocaust and for considering how the world might be after the war. They agreed that the needed history should not be national or for a national purpose, but for humankind.

 

Arendt agreed with Jaspers, Young-Bruehl writes, that the way for Westerners to overcome "the ill effects of their own prejudices and technological progress, which had made the worldwide war possible", was to open up to the world and think in a "cosmopolitan way about the future of humanity". In light of her Jewish identity, as one of the Axial peoples victimized by German and European prejudices, Arendt further developed the arguments of Jaspers by invoking the cosmopolitanism exhibited by the Jews in the Axial Age both as an "antidote to tribalist Jewish thinking" and to European ethno-nationalism. Young-Bruehl continues:

 

It is Arendt's Jewish identity — not just the identity she asserted in defending herself as a Jew when attacked as one, but more deeply her connection to the Axial Age prophetic tradition — that made her the cosmopolitan she was.

 

But what kind of history writing does cosmopolitan thinking require given that civilizations, according to Jasper, diverged in their cultural development after the Axial Age? For Arendt this was besides the point, she was not a historian preoccupied with the actual documentation and diverging histories of civilizations and nations. Her goal was to create a new state of mind among Europeans in the way they viewed themselves in relation to the world. She thus called upon Europeans to

 

1. "enlarge" their minds and include the experience and views of other cultures in their thinking; 
2. to overcome their Eurocentric prejudices and encompass the entire world in their historical reflections; 
3. to develop a sense of the "human condition" and learn how to talk about what is "common to all mankind";
4. to learn how they are culturally shaped both by their particular conditions and the conditions and experiences shared by all humans on the planet.

 

The "Special Quality" of the West — Rejected

This call by Arendt would coalesce with similar arguments about the "inventions of nations", the "social construction of races", and the idea that we are all primordially alike as Homo Sapiens. Jaspers, at least in his book The Origin and Goal of History, did not go this far, but in fact retracted, in later chapters, from the general statements he made in the introduction about the Axial Age being a common spiritual experience across the planet, acknowledging the obvious:

 

it was not a universal occurrence...There were the great peoples of the ancient civilizations, who lived before and even concurrently with the [Axial] breakthrough, but had no part in it (51).

 

He further noted that the Egyptian and Babylonian peoples "remained what they had been earlier...destitute of that quality of reflection which transformed mankind", even though they interacted with the Axial cultures (52). As it is, Jaspers admitted that after the Axial Age the respective civilizations traversed very different spiritual pathways, which begs the question as to why they would cease to exhibit "parallel developments" despite increasing interaction. Perhaps even more important was his recognition that there was a "specific quality" to the West in the way it exhibited "far more dramatic fresh starts" (54), whereas

 

in Asia, on the other hand, a constant situation persists; it modifies its manifestations, it founders in catastrophes and re-establishes itself on the one and only basis as that which is constantly the same (53).

 

In the end Jaspers could not avoid the ultimate historical question about why the West followed such a diametrically different path:

 

if science and technology were created in the West, we are faced with the question: Why did this happen in the West and not in the other two great cultural zones (61-2)?

 

The answer he offered was essentially the same as Hegel's heavily Eurocentric perspective about the unique pre-occupation of Europeans with freedom and reason. He actually delimited the veracity of the Axial thesis with the observation that only the ancient Greeks came to know "political liberty", in contrast to the "universal despotism" of the East; and that "in contrast to the East, Greek rationality contain[ed] a strain of consistency that laid the foundations of mathematics and perfected formal logic" (63).

Here are more special qualities mentioned by Jaspers about the West: "Tragedy is known only to the West." While other Axial cultures spoke of mankind in general, in the West this universal ambition regarding the place of man in the cosmos and the good life did not "coagulate into a dogmatic fixity" (64). "The West gives the exception room to move." In the West "human nature reaches a height that is certainly not shared by all and to which...hardly anyone ascends." "...the perpetual disquiet of the West, its continual dissatisfaction, its inability to be content with any sort of fulfillment" (64).

This is the language of Spengler's Faustian Soul. Some in the New Right don't like this perpetual restlessness about the West and would prefer to see the West become one more boring traditional culture. But this cannot be, for "in contrast to the uniformity and relative freedom from tension of all Oriental empires":

 

the West is typified by resoluteness that takes things to extremes, elucidates them down to the last detail, places them before the either-or, and so brings awareness of the underlying principles and sets up battle-fronts in the inmost recesses of the mind. (65)

 

None of these substantial qualifications would matter in the end. The inquiries Jaspers started would mushroom way beyond his expectations leading to the complete abolition of the teaching of Western Civ courses and the imposition of World Multicultural History. The Axial Age Jaspers had limited to the period 800-200 BC would come to be extended to the entire course of human history! A. G. Frank and Kenneth Pomeranz would announce in their best sellers ReOrient (1998) and The Great Divergence (2000) that the cultural and economic trajectories of Europe and Asia were "surprisingly similar" up until a sudden "accidental" divergence occurred around 1750/1830. Humans are all the same, have always been connected through migrations, race mixing, trade, and cultural borrowings. We have always been part of one big family. Europeans who talk about their uniqueness and complain about mass immigration and the incredible gifts of Islamic culture to the West are ignoramuses in need of replacement.

Yet, there never was an Axial Age: the PreSocratics were dramatically different in their inquiries, and far more universal in their reasoning, than the prophets of the Old Testament, the major schools of Confucianism, Taoism, and Legalism in China, and the Hindu religions of India. As far as I know, no one has explained this seemingly paradoxical combination of extreme Western uniqueness and extreme universalism. I hope to address this topic in a future essay.

The European New Right & its Animus against Western Civ

The European New Right & its Animus against Western Civ

By Ricardo Duchesne 

Ex: http://www.counter-currents.com

My knowledge of the European New Right (ENR) is very scarce, no more than a few short articles and three books: Guillaume Faye’s Why We Fight ^[2], Alexander Dugin’s Fourth Political Theory, and Pierre Krebs’ Fighting for the Essence, Western Ethnosuicide or European Renaissance? ^[3]. I found Faye’s metapolitical dictionary substantively insightful and Dugin’s dissection of liberalism penetrating.

But Krebs’ book finally clarified for me something about the ENR I had sensed but was not sure about: its belief that Western Civ stands for the rise of multiracial societies in Europe.

I noticed this animus against the West in Dugin’s book. In the case of Dugin it was more his identification of American Neoconservatism, or Mainstream Liberalism, with Western Civ as such, his rejection of Western rationalism, his condemnation of the idea of progress, his use of cultural Marxists and postmodernists (Franz Boas, Michel Foucault, Levi Strauss, Jean Baudrillard) to paint a picture of the West as the sickest, most destructive civilization in human history. Everything hateful about the world — consumerism, environmental despoliation, egalitarianism, plutocratic manipulation, erosion of ethnic and traditional differences — was explained by him as a direct product of the metaphysical orientation of the West.

In order to adequately understand the essence of liberalism, we must recognize that it is not accidental, that its appearance in the political and economic ideologies is based on fundamental processes, proceeding in all Western civilization. Liberalism is not only a part of that history, but its purest and most refined expression, its result (Fourth Political Theory, p. 140).

It is as if the West was from the beginning oriented towards our present-day pro-immigration regimen, driven by a rationalist logic dedicated to the reduction of cultural qualities to measurable quantities, by a will to a universal language for humanity based on mental constructs existing a priori in all humans, by an individualizing logic that seeks to free all concrete persons from any collective identities, and by a progressive view of history that ranks cultures in terms of how close they approximate the liberal-democratic aims of a West envisioned as the master culture led by a superior race. According to Dugin, the “very ideology of [Western] progress is racist in its structure.”

But I thought that these were the prejudices of a Russian nationalist, a keen defender of Putin’s foreign policies in the face of American Neocon wishes for control of former Soviet territories. But upon reading Pierre Krebs’ book a few days ago, I am starting to realize that opposition to the West (and, by direct necessity, opposition to almost the entire history of Europeans) is quite prominent among members of the ENR. I feel confident in making this generalization about the ENR, having read, additionally, some articles by and about Alain de Benoist, noticing right away that he too holds the West responsible for all the main maladies of our times: individualization, massification, desacralization, rationalization, and universalization. He traces the roots of these destructive trends to the Christian concept of equality and the Christian idea of progress, and then explains how these concepts were secularized in modern times. But my focus here will be on Krebs’ Fighting for the Essence, originally published in 1997.

^[4]I will engage with Krebs’ ideas by citing passages from his books, and then offering my responses below. I view Krebs as an ideological friend with whom I have a major disagreement about the nature of the West. He offers an effective rhetorical critique of the relationship between the homogenization of humanity and the celebration of diversity through miscegenation.

The originality and the richness of the human heritages of this world are nourished by their differences and their deviations, which surprise and fascinate as soon as one passes from the culture of one people to another. These originalities can find protection, in turn, only in the homogeneous ethno-cultural space that is proper to them. The defenders of multiracialism are the primary destroyers, consciously or unconsciously, of this elementary right. (p. 89)

But the claim that the West has been the destroyer of racial identities is very simplistic and evinces a truncated understanding of the history of the most enriching and complex civilization. Krebs distinguishes an “authentic” West that is Greek, Faustian, and Indo-European from a “Judeo-Christian West that came after. But he condemns the West in its entirety once it became “Judeo-Christian.” And this argument is historically flawed, starting with the term “Judeo-Christian,” which is a recent invention reflecting trends that cannot be teleologically attributed to the ancient past. “Genuine tragedies in the world are not conflicts between right and wrong. They are conflicts between two rights,” Hegel once wrote as he contemplated the history of Europe. Individualization, universalization, rationalization, and desacralization were inescapably connected to the rise of this civilization to world supremacy. They are part-expression of the tumultuous temperament and directional psyche of Europeans. You can’t condemn these world-historical processes without condemning Europeans as a people. These processes were not, historically for the longest time, and, therefore, in and of themselves, anti-White.

Pierre Krebs:

In the first stage which corresponds to its political phase, the egalitarian lie first turned the democratic integrity of the state on its head by progressively emptying the Greek model of the ethno-cultural organic principles of the demos which it purely and simply replaced with the vagabond and cosmopolitan institution of the parliament. (p. 18)

RD: Krebs is saying that the Greek polis which evolved gradually from the seventh century BC onward, a radically new form of governance based on laws, offices, and direct participation by members of the polis or city-state, in contrast to a form of rule based on the personal powers of a despot and his entourage, was not only a civic political community based on laws equally binding on all members, but was consciously grouped according to a shared sense of ethnic identity. The representative parliaments that emerged later were merely based on the civic identity of the members of the state, their shared political rights and responsibilities, which anyone regardless of ethnic identity could lay a claim to as long as he was or became a political member of the respective state.

I have heard this claim expressed in New Right circles, how Christians with their idea that we all have equal souls in the eyes of God were responsible for our current obsession with harmonizing all races inside the West, or how Romans with the granting of citizenship during the third century AD to inhabitants in the Empire of any race, started a new trans-racial concept of citizenship. My view is the opposite: racially conscious political communities were created only after the Enlightenment. Europeans were the first people in history to develop a science of race. Humans are ethnocentric by nature in showing a preference for their own linguistic, tribal, and ancestral groups, but this is not the same as being racially aware and having the intellectual wherewithal to articulate a rational argument about the existence of different races. Racial awareness began during the sixteenth century as Europeans were coming into contact with peoples in the Americas, Africa, and Asia with very different bodily attributes and customs. It was during the Enlightenment, however, that Europeans began to develop a scientific theory of race.

The same philosophers who announced that human nature was uniform everywhere, and united mankind as a subject capable of enlightenment, argued “in text after text . . . in the works of Hume, Diderot, Montesquieu, Kant, and many lesser lights” that men “are not uniform but are divided up into sexes, races, national characters . . . and many other categories,” so observes Aaron Garret in a book chapter titled “Human Nature” in The Cambridge History of Eighteenth-Century Philosophy ^[5] (2006). Eighteenth century talk about “human nature” and the “unity of mankind” was less a political program for a universal civilization than a scientific program for the study of man in a way that was systematic in intent and universal in scope. Enlightenment thinkers were not calling for the unity of humanity, the sameness of races, other than for a “federation of the peoples of Europe.” Garrett is stereotypically liberal and thus writes of “the eighteenth century’s dubious contributions to the discussion of race,” but what matters is that Enlightenment thinkers did engage in the scientific study of races in light of the evidence and the knowledge at the time. Most Enlightenment thinkers rejected polygenecism and asserted the fundamental (species) equality of humankind, but they also came to the conclusion that humanity was divided into different races with very different biological traits, behavioral dispositions and mental aptitudes.

One cannot speak of the suicide of Europeans in a racial way without the very “rationalism” Krebs condemns, which is presupposed in the scientific study of races. The Greeks were not yet rational in their understanding of races. Their concept of civic membership did presuppose membership of traditional kinship or tribal groupings, but it did not presuppose racial membership.The Greeks developed a Pan-Hellenic identity during the first century BC in the course of the Persian Wars (490-479 BC), but this was a cultural identity, easily fractured in the years ahead by the endemic wars between the city-states.

By contrast, in the nineteenth century, the age of full-blown individualization, universalization, and massification, the field of racial studies emerged, and it was in light of these studies that the United States, Australia, and Canada instituted in the twentieth century “white only” immigration policies. These policies were implemented in liberal democratic societies and accepted by the majority of citizens.

Pierre Krebs:

“[I]n the American-style ‘carnival’ multiculturalism, it is in fact the naturally aristocratic soul of Europe, its deeply individualist style, its essentially rebellious, Faustian and Promethean spirit that the globalist vulgate is in the process of attacking. Behind its multicultural alibi, Europe is invited to change its mentality — and so its skin — so that its lively identity may be silenced.” (p. 24)

RD:
Americans have been pushing multiculturalism and immigration in Europe for decades, and if the term “Western Civilization” is taken to mean that European nations should become as the US and Canada were in the 1960s, with multiple European ethnicities converging as members of one nation, then I am opposed to it. But the settler nations of America, Canada, and Australia (and New Zealand) are European creations and altogether they should be viewed as members of a Pan-European world we can conveniently label “Western Civilization” as a way of identifying common traits and common historical experiences in and outside Europe in North America and Australia, in contrast to that of other civilizations.

My book Uniqueness of Western Civilization emphasizes the roots of this civilization in the aristocratic culture of Indo-Europeans and the Faustian personality of Europeans. But it seems to me Krebs is making a mistake in assuming that the Faustian soul of the West was gradually eroded with the adoption of what he calls “the monster of Judaeo-Christianity” (p. 22). As I briefly argued in a prior essay ^[6], citing Spengler’s words:

Christianity, too, became a thoroughly Faustian moral ethic. “It was not Christianity that transformed Faustian man, but Faustian man who transformed Christianity — and he not only made it a new religion but also gave it a new moral direction.”

I will address in Part II Krebs’ erroneous understanding of Christianity. The point I like to make now is that the forces pushing for multiracialism inside the West are still imbued with a Faustian moral imperative, even as they seek to destroy this soul and are themselves already intermixed, in this late hour, with alien morals. The words cited about from Spengler come from Chapter X, “Soul-Image and Life-Feeling: Buddhism, Stoicism, Socialism.” I may write an essay exclusively on this magnificent chapter in the future. In it, Spengler specifically addresses the “morale” of Faustian man in the last stage of the West when it is about to exhaust itself, but before writing about this stage in particular, he notes that, for the Faustian morale in general,

everything is direction, claim to power, will to affect the distant. Here Luther is completely at one with Nietzsche, Popes with Darwinians, Socialists with Jesuits; for one and all, the beginning of morale is a claim to general and permanent validity. It is a necessity of the Faustian soul that this should be so. He who thinks or teaches “otherwise” is sinful, a backslider, a foe, and he is fought down without mercy. You “shall,” the State “shall,” society “shall — this form of morale is to us self-evident, it represents the only real meaning that we can attach to the word. (p. 341)

On the surface, or perhaps in a way that requires disentanglement, the socialists of Spengler’s day appeared to have rejected the Faustian aggressive will for overcoming all resistances when they spoke softly at conferences and at the ballot box about

the ideals of ‘welfare,’ ‘freedom,’ ‘humanity,’ the doctrine of the ‘greatest happiness of the greatest number’.

But

[i]t is a shallow judgment, and one incapable of inwardly understanding history, that cannot distinguish the literary chatter of popular social-moralists and humanity-apostles from the deep ethical instincts of the West-European Civilization. (p. 351)

Krebs has an inverted understanding of the Faustian soul. He grasps the aggressive moral certainty of globalists against the heterogeneity of cultures and ethnicities, but attributes this drive to Judeo-Christianity, mainly on the basis of its monotheism and egalitarian impulses, while picturing the Faustian morality of Europeans as if it were inherently inclined toward a life without directionality, repetitive cycles, co-existence with other morals in the world, ecological harmony, and polytheism. Krebs misreads the Faustian will to power of the West; he wants Europeans to “return” to their pre-Christian pagan past. But the problem is, first, that our Indo-European ancestors were a uniquely expansionary and directional people exhibiting a glorious expansive drive since prehistoric times across the Old World, spreading their “Kurgan ^[7]” lifestyle across Asia and Europe, leading eventually to a situation in which Indo-European languages are spoken today by almost 3 billion native speakers, the largest number of any language family. The problem is also that the immense creativity of the ancient Greeks, Romans, Catholics, Protestants, and Moderns I have written about in previous essays was driven by this Faustian energy — before and after Christianity.

We are facing an enemy — both the Neocon assimilationists and the Left multiculturalists –possessed by a Faustian morale (intermixed with alien demonic motifs) dedicated to the destruction of European ethnic identity “without mercy” and in complete conviction of its ideals. We should not be surprised by this. But just because the proponents of European ethnic dissolution are Faustian it does not follow that this is what the West was always (since the inception of Christianity) inclined to do. The Faustian soul has expressed itself in multiple, conflicting ways throughout history. Europeans have been the most bellicose people in human history. They almost self-destructed in two world wars. Many other alternative outlooks were defeated or unable to gather sufficient support. Now we have a huge conflict opening up. In the Western world “life means struggling, overcoming, winning through” (343), and waging a successful political war against the prevailing Faustian ethic can only be accomplished with a Faustian ethnocentric morale.

Pierre Krebs:

Once the dangers have been perceived and the choices have been offered, we must then move to action, first refusing ‘compromise, weakness, and indulgence towards everything which, being derived from the Judaeo-Christian root, has infected our blood and our intelligence. Then secondly, return to our pagan Indo-European tradition without which ‘there will be no liberation and no true restoration, and conversion to the true values of spirit, power, hierarchy, and empire will not be possible.’ (p. 29)

RD:
The words cited by Krebs are from Julius Evola. Krebs sees how we are facing an ideology with which there can be no compromises, and yet he speaks of a “return to our pagan Indo-European tradition” without considering that this tradition welcomes the struggle for existence, overcoming limitations, mastering nature. Evola has a mythological understanding of European history, a preference for traditional cultures combined with an immense dislike for Western modernity. He writes of the “order of things” in traditional cultures without realizing that Faustian man refuses to be bounded by orders other than those he has subjected to rational investigation. I learned much from Evola’s Revolt Against the Modern World ^[8]; it offers fascinating ideas about the “higher world” of ancient cultures, how rulers, institutions, and laws were seen as divine in origin and how this divinity ensured spiritual stability with a clear sense of the proper ranking of classes and human activities, higher spiritual functions versus lower materialistic functions, giving purpose and meaning to life, uplifting everyone in the direction of the higher “invisible reality” and conferring a sacred dignity to leadership roles, rituals, and beliefs. His understanding of the meaning of “tradition” surpasses that of any sociologist.

But Evola is not a practical thinker in tune with the actualities of Western history, what is possible today in the modern world. Just as Spengler called for German conservatives to liberate themselves from Romantic, unrealistic goals based on “dead” programs, the New Right needs to accept and adapt to the realities of international finance, genetic engineering, and robotics. It must not let go of the Faustian ethos:

the Faustian technics, which with the full passion of the third dimension and, to sure, from the earliest days of the Gothic era thrusts itself upon Nature in order to hold sway over her (cited in Farrenkopf, p. 72).

Pierre Krebs:

. . . Judaeo-Christianity and its modern avatars, egalitarian democracy . . . and the mercantile ideologies of the Homo oeconomicus and all their variations. In fact, once the assumption that Europe and the West are synonymous, which was previously believed to be self-evident, has been turned on its head, the opposite idea becomes the rule: the West is then moved to the opposite pole as something absolutely alien, with the radical, exogenous character of a civilisation that must henceforth be perceived on the basis of the natural incompatibilities that separate it forever from the authentic European culture considered in all its aspects: ethnic, mental, and spiritual [ . . . ] Europe will be able to find itself, return to an obedience to its gods, purify the conscience of its being which has been adulterated for so long, and recreate in its liberated soul the vibrations of a forgotten transcendence and origin. (p. 39)

RD:
Homo oeconomicus was a unique creation of Europeans, authentic to them. Europeans were the first to develop a science of economics and to discover the laws behind the production and distribution of wealth. The first to separate analytically “economic man” and thereby understand the activities of this man without confounding these activities with religious and political motivations, and, in doing so, to apprehend the reality that a nation’s power is more efficiently sustained when a nation creates its own wealth through work rather that through conquest. This was another major step in redirecting the Faustian energies of European man into less destructive endeavors. This does not mean that one has to accept the principles of free market economics since there are other schools including the much neglected German school associated with the economics of Friedrich List’s National System of Political Economy (1841), which accepted the wealth-creating nature of capitalism based on the economic history and economic reality of nations.

The West is not alien to Europe but a creation of Europe’s incredible extension across the Atlantic in the modern era. Seeking a “return” to an “authentic” Europe of pagan gods, “transcendence and origin,” is Utopian. This Europe is nowhere to be found in the classical Greece Krebs cherishes. The ancient Greeks reinterpreted or limited the sphere of influence of their gods as they became self-conscious as distinctive personalities in possession of a faculty they called “mind” (in contradistinction to other bodily attributes and psychological drives) capable of self-grounding its own principles and criteria for truthful statements. The first step in the origins of self-awareness, or awareness of awareness, thinking about thinking, rather than thinking in terms of prescribed norms and mandated religious ordinances, came with the uniquely Indo-European fight to the death for the sake of pure prestige by aristocratic peers in the state of nature. I write about this in Chapter Eight of Uniqueness.

The liberation of Europe has to be grounded in its peculiar history rather than in some static “origin” disconnected from what came after.

Source: http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/09/the-european-new-right-and-its-animus.html ^[9]

 

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Article printed from Counter-Currents Publishing: http://www.counter-currents.com

URL to article: http://www.counter-currents.com/2014/11/the-european-new-right-and-its-animus-against-western-civ/

URLs in this post:

[1] Image: http://www.counter-currents.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/MichaelandDragon.jpg

[2] Why We Fight: http://www.arktos.com/guillaume-faye-why-we-fight.html

[3] Fighting for the Essence, Western Ethnosuicide or European Renaissance?: http://www.arktos.com/pierre-krebs-fighting-for-the-essence.html

[4] Image: http://www.counter-currents.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/PierreKrebs.jpg

[5] The Cambridge History of Eighteenth-Century Philosophy: http://www.amazon.com/Cambridge-History-Eighteenth-Century-Philosophy-Haakonssen/dp/0521418542

[6] prior essay: http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/09/oswald-spengler-and-faustian-soul-of_4.html

[7] Kurgan: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kurgan_hypothesis

[8] Revolt Against the Modern World: http://en.metapedia.org/wiki/Revolt_Against_the_Modern_World

[9] http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/09/the-european-new-right-and-its-animus.html: http://www.eurocanadian.ca/2014/09/the-european-new-right-and-its-animus.html

De groote oorlog als strijd tussen iconophilia en iconoclasme: Ernst Jünger en Louis-Ferdinand Céline

door Vincent Blok,

Paper presentation 'de groote oorlog in ons hoofd. wereldoorlog I en de denkende enkeling, Antwerpen (Belgium)

Om ernaar te luisteren:

https://player.fm/series/deburen-podcast-23080/344-lezing-vincent-blok-de-groote-oorlog-als-strijd-tussen-iconophilia-en-iconoclasme

 

 

 

LEV GUMILEV, EL FILÓSOFO DE LA RUSIA DE HOY Y DEL PORVENIR

 

Lev Nikolayevich Gumilev

 

LEV GUMILEV, EL FILÓSOFO DE LA RUSIA DE HOY Y DEL PORVENIR

Por Manuel Fernández Espinosa

Ex: http://movimientoraigambre.blogspot.com

 

Lev Nikolayevich Gumilev nació el 1 de octubre de 1912 y falleció el 15 de junio de 1992. Su padre fue el poeta acmeísta Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev y su madre fue Anna Andreiévna Ajmátova. El padre de Lev, Nikolai Stepanovich, era militar de profesión y, como llevamos dicho, poeta; sus posiciones políticas eran monárquicas. Al regresar a Rusia, tras el triunfo de la revolución, Nikolai Gumilev no disimuló el disgusto que le inspiraba el comunismo con todos sus oportunistas, ahora dueños de la situación en el régimen soviético. Fue capturado por la Cheka y ejecutado por los bolcheviques que lo culparon de estar involucrado en el complot monárquico llamado "la conspiración de Tagantsev", ni siquiera las gestiones de Máximo Gorki -que valoraba al joven poeta- pudieron impedir la sentencia inexorable y en 1921 caía frente a un pelotón de fusilamiento. Anna, la esposa del militar caído en desgracia, pudo salvar la vida, pero ser esposa de un "conspirador" y escribir una poesía intimista le valieron la estigmatización. El hijo del matrimonio, Lev, creció al cuidado de una de sus abuelas y cuando fue mayor conoció en propia carne el gulag. Trece años cumplidos en las minas de níquel de Norilsk y otros campos de concentración, sin que haber servido a la Unión Soviética en la toma de Berlín le hubiera servido para mucho.

 

Pero, una vez presentada brevemente la familia Gumilev, centrémonos en el vástago de esta familia, culta y castigada por el comunismo: Lev Nikolayevich Gumilev. Es mucho lo que desconocemos en España de la cultura rusa contemporánea, por eso el nombre de Lev Gumilev nos es desconocido. Sin embargo, podemos decir que se trata de una de las figuras más decisivas de la cultura rusa de nuestros días. Y es que a pesar de su cautiverio en el gulag, Gumilev fue una prominente figura del pensamiento ruso que, a día de hoy, marca las directrices del eurasianismo. Se afirma que todos los partidos políticos rusos de la actualidad han asimilado parte de su legado filosófico. Gumilev se convierte así, a título póstumo, en el ideólogo del gran imperio ruso que se perfila actualmente.

 

Las teorías de Gumilev comprenden desde la Historia hasta la Etnografía. Fue Gumilev el que dotó de historia a los pueblos nómadas de Eurasia, considerados como bárbaros hasta que él publicó el resultado de sus investigaciones históricas. Su obra historiográfica y antropológica configuran toda una filosofía que tiene como términos nucleares los términos "etnogénesis" y "pasionarnost". La "etnogénesis" trataría de dar cuenta del proceso dinámico de la formación, afirmación, auge, mestizaje, fusión o disolución de un grupo humano (pueblo) que, al perder su "pasionarnost" (su vitalidad pasional) va desvaneciéndose en la historia. La filosofía de Gumilev prescinde de la idea del progreso y presenta algunas similitudes con la filosofía de Oswald Spengler, aunque puede apreciarse -mucho más que la de Spengler- la huella de Nikolai Yákovlevich Danilevski (1822-1885), un naturalista ruso que combatió el darwinismo y desplegó una amplia actividad en varios campos, desde la economía hasta la exploración. El libro "Rusia y Europa" (1896) de Danilevski es una de las obras que más influencia ha ejercido en los ámbitos culturales rusos.

La obra de Gumilev está sin traducir al español. Esto da idea de todo lo que nos queda por hacer a los Amigos de Rusia.

 

Interesante enlace en español en RUSIA HOY: LEV GUMILEV, EL LOBO ESTEPARIO DEL EURASIANISMO

 

Familia Gumilev

 

 

Nikolai Yákovlevich Danilevski

 

Heidegger et les antinazis de papier...

Heidegger et les antinazis de papier...

par Robert Redeker

Vous pouvez découvrir ci-dessous un point de vue de Robert Redeker, cueilli sur le site de Valeurs actuelles et consacré à Heidegger. Professeur de philosophie et essayiste, Robert Redeker a récemment publié Le soldat impossible (Pierre-Guillaume de Roux, 2014).

Heidegger et les antinazis de papier

À nouveau l’affaire Heidegger occupe les gazettes ! Cette histoire, répétée tous les dix ans, du nazisme de Heidegger — dont témoigne le livre de Peter Trawny, Heidegger et l’Antisémitisme (Seuil) — est un marronnier destiné à amuser ceux qui ne s’intéressent pas à Heidegger, qui ne le lisent ni ne le travaillent, ni ne travaillent avec lui. On ne voit pas quel est son intérêt, à part céder à la mode grotesque mais payante de l’antifascisme policier. Une fois que l’on a dit que l’homme Heidegger était nazi, on n’a rien dit du tout ! Ce n’est pas l’homme Heidegger dans son entier qui était nazi, encore moins le philosophe Heidegger, mais le particulier Martin Heidegger, à certains moments de son existence. Heidegger n’était pas “un” nazi, il était par moments nazi. L’article un est ici d’une importance capitale.

Quant à l’oeuvre philosophique de Heidegger, elle est simplement la plus géniale du XXe siècle, et de loin. Elle est par endroits, elle aussi, “dangereuse”.

L’antiheideggérianisme de trop nombreux journalistes et de quelques philosophes en mal de succès est un antinazisme facile, un antinazisme de papier, qui, certes, pour les meilleurs, s’appuie sur une lecture du maître de Messkirch, sans s’accompagner néanmoins d’une méditation de cette pensée.

Le présupposé des commissaires du peuple ne laisse pas d’être inquiétant : les lecteurs de Heidegger sont des nazis en puissance, autrement dit ce sont des demeurés capables de se laisser contaminer ! Les chiens de garde chassant en meute Heidegger militent avec le même présupposé méprisant quand il s’agit de Céline, de Schmitt, de Jünger et d’Evola. (Carl Schmitt et Julius Evola, voire René Guénon et Ezra Pound sont des auteurs qui demandent de grands efforts à l’intelligence : le présupposé des policiers de la pensée tombe dès lors à côté de la plaque.)

Les vrais lecteurs de Heidegger savent que cette propagande facile s’attaque à un monstre qu’elle fabrique elle-même, « le sozi de Heidegger », selon la fine invention lexicale de Michel Deguy. Cette notion de “sozi”, amalgame sémantique de “sosie” et de “nazi”, est heuristique, conservant une valeur descriptive s’étendant bien au-delà du mauvais procès intenté au philosophe allemand. Elle est un analyseur de la reductio ad hitlerum appliquée aux auteurs que l’on veut frapper d’expulsion du champ de la pensée. Leo Strauss a pointé les dangers pour la vérité de la reductio ad hitlerum : « Nous devrons éviter l’erreur, si souvent commise ces dernières années, de substituer à la réduction ad absurdum la réduction ad hitlerum. Que Hitler ait partagé une opinion ne suffit pas à la réfuter. »

Une question s’impose : et si le prétendu nazisme de Heidegger fonctionnait un peu comme l’éloge de Manu, de la société de caste, de la chevalerie germanique, chez Nietzsche, c’est-à-dire comme une machinerie “inactuelle” destinée à exhiber autant qu’abattre “l’actuel”, le dernier homme, l’homme planétaire-démocratique ? Peut-être est-ce une stratégie philosophique de ce type-là qui se joue dans le prétendu nazisme de Heidegger ? Dans ce cas, ce qui paraît inacceptable chez Heidegger aux lecteurs superficiels, aux commissaires politiques de la vertu et au gros animal (l’opinion publique) acquiert le même statut philosophique que ce qui paraît inacceptable chez Nietzsche. Nos antinazis de papier — épurateurs de culture qui se comportent, en voulant exclure les ouvrages de Heidegger des programmes du baccalauréat et de l’agrégation, comme les destructeurs des bouddhas de Bâmyân — s’en rendront- ils compte ?

Robert Redeker (Valeurs actuelles, 12 novembre 2014)

LA ESCUELA DE SABIDURÍA DEL CONDE KAYSERLING

 

 

Hermann von Keyserling

 

 LA ESCUELA DE SABIDURÍA DEL CONDE KEYSERLING

 

UNA LECCIÓN DE INFLUENCIA CULTURAL

 

Por Manuel Fernández Espinosa

 

Ex: http://movimientoraigambre.blogspot.com

 

Dicen los genealogistas que por una abuela suya tenía como antepasado a Gengis Khan y de cierto se sabe que estaba casado con la nieta de Otto von Bismarck. Hermann Alexander Conde Keyserling (1880-1946) fue un filósofo bastante popular para lo que suelen serlo los del gremio; hoy, apenas se le recuerda. Con la revolución bolchevique se vio forzado a emigrar a Alemania, dejando sus haciendas en la báltica Livonia de la que era nativo. La curiosidad filosófica le hizo emprender una serie de viajes, convirtiéndolo en un auténtico hombre de mundo. Su interés por las filosofías y las religiones de Extremo Oriente y el conocimiento que de estas tradiciones obtuvo por sus viajes y estudios, le granjearon el papel de interlocutor europeo con Asia, hasta tal punto que Antonio Machado pudo escribir de él: “ése lleva el Oriente en su maleta de viaje, dispuesto a que salga el sol por donde menos lo pensemos” (“Juan de Mairena”, Antonio Machado).

 

En 1920 el Conde Keyserling fundó en Darmstadt su “Escuela de Sabiduría” (Schule der Weisheit), patrocinada bajo el mecenazgo del Gran Duque Ernst Ludwig de Hesse. Con la Escuela de Sabiduría se ponía en pie un centro de alta cultura que tendría como dos dimensiones: una pública, como centro de educación independiente de las iglesias y de la Universidad, organizador de conferencias, y otra dimensión menos conocida, de carácter ocultista. No ha de escandalizarnos el dato de su “ocultismo”, pues la Alemania de entreguerras (nos lo cuentan en sus novelas Thomas Mann o Ernst Jünger…) era un favorable terreno para las sociedades secretas y sus presuntas doctrinas de salvación.

 

En su actividad pública pasaron por la Escuela de Sabiduría los intelectuales más sobresalientes de la Alemania de entreguerras: el filósofo Max Scheler, el padre de la psicología profunda Carl Gustav Jung, el sinólogo Richard Wilhelm o el filósofo Leopold Ziegler, etcétera. También eran invitados a pronunciar sus conferencias o a asistir a ellas científicos y magnates de la industria alemana. La Escuela de Sabiduría daba a la estampa dos publicaciones periódicas que pasaron por ser sus órganos de prensa: “Der Weg zur Vollendung. Mitteilungen der Schule der Weisheit” (“El Camino a la Perfección. Comunicaciones de la Escuela de Sabiduría”) y “Der Leuchter. Weltanschauung und Lebensgestaltung. Jahrbuch der Schule der Weisheit” (“El Candelabro. Cosmovisión y Formación de Vida. Anuario de la Escuela de Sabiduría”). En 1920 también se fundó la “Keyserling-Gesellschaft für freie Philosophie” (la Sociedad Keyserling para la Libre Filosofía) que resurgió en Weisbaden en 1948.

 

Los intelectuales más comprometidos con el proyecto del Conde Keyserling se obligaban a una estricta observancia de la peculiar filosofía keyserlingiana y quedaban bajo el magisterio del conde o de sus discípulos de confianza. Entre estos destaquemos a Kuno Conde von Hardenberg (1871-1938), orientalista y crítico de arte, estudioso de la francmasonería. Al científico que, como el mismo Conde de Keyserling, era de origen báltico: Karl Julius Richard Happich (1863-1923), uno de los pioneros del control higiénico, bacteriólogo y veterinario, también oncólogo. Kuno von Hardenberg y Karl Happich escribirían, con Hermann von Keyserling, un libro bajo el elocuente título “Das Okkulte” (Lo oculto); no en vano Federico Sciacca afirma que Keyserling “se ha entregado a la magia y al ocultismo en una concepción del genio como vehículo de Dios en la tierra”. También desempeñaría su papel en la Escuela de Sabiduría el psicólogo Georg Groddeck (1866-1934), considerado como uno de los pioneros de la medicina psicosomática.

 

Pero, ¿cuál era la filosofía de Keyserling? La filosofía de Keyserling es una cristalización más del pesimismo que siguió a la Primera Guerra Mundial, como el relativismo de Simmel, la filosofía de la historia de Oswald Spengler y otras corrientes contemporáneas: se dirimía nada más y nada menos que los fundamentos de la civilización occidental. Keyserling reivindica el “Sentido” y realiza una cruda crítica del racionalismo y la civilización técnica en que ha parado occidente. “El occidente es un fanático de la exactitud. En cambio, sobre el sentido lo ignora casi todo. Si lo captase alguna vez, le ayudaría a encontrar su expresión perfecta y establecería una armonía completa entre la esencia de las cosas y los fenómenos” –nos dice el Conde Keyserling en “Diario de viaje de un filósofo” (1919). Para Keyserling resulta que “el sentido” que es -justamente- lo que el occidental ignora, es lo que no ha perdido el oriental. El Sentido solo puede descubrirse por medio de una intuición particular y por la interpretación de los símbolos y los mitos. Contando con ese elemento es como comprendemos que Keyserling dirija sus ojos a Oriente, donde el conde báltico cree hallar la clave que, convenientemente injertada en occidente, pueda proporcionar al hombre el descubrimiento de su personalidad verdadera, falseada por la civilización de la medida y las máquinas. La Escuela de Sabiduría no era un centro convencional de filosofía académica, sino un camino de conocimiento para un fin: la plenitud. El encuentro con el Sentido -para Keyserling- no es solo el encuentro con la realidad que hay, sino más bien la apertura a la realidad que puede haber. La filosofía de Keyserling era otra expresión del irracionalismo romántico alemán y su Escuela de Sabiduría un retorno a los antiguos planteamientos de una filosofía que pretendía ofrecer una doctrina de salvación, como el pitagorismo y la Academia de Platón.

 

Keyserling gozó en España de mucho predicamento. La intelectualidad y las altas clases sociales españolas de la época lo recibían gustosas, le agasajaban con banquetes y esperaban, entre interesados y escépticos, las prédicas del conde mistagogo. Sin importar las tendencias, que por aquel entonces no se habían radicalizado hasta llegar al enfrentamiento civil, José Ortega y Gasset, Eugenio d’Ors, los Machado, los Baroja, Ernesto Giménez Caballero, Rafael Alberti, Ramiro Ledesma Ramos, Ramón Menéndez Pidal, Américo Castro… Compartieron agradables veladas en España con el sabio báltico. Pero había otras motivaciones en los viajes a España del conde Keyserling, además de su sintonía con el mundo hispánico. Keyserling estuvo tanteando la posibilidad de erigir una sucursal de su Escuela de Sabiduría en las Islas Baleares. Los periódicos de la época se hacían eco de que esa empresa cultural quería establecer un centro de formación de elites castellano-catalanas con la intención de propagar el pangermanismo.

 

Pero el semanario de Ledesma Ramos “La Conquista del Estado” reaccionaba ante tales pretensiones germánicas, entendiendo como intromisión extranjera en los asuntos hispanos las idas y venidas del conde Keyserling. Es más que probable que “La Conquista del Estado” llevara razón: Keyserling ejercía su influencia sobre España, pero con la idea de ejercerla a su vez sobre Hispanoamérica: eso es de lo que lo acusa el semanario de Ledesma Ramos: “Por un lado, busca la amistad española para dar que pensar a la pobrecita Francia. Y por otro, quiere asegurar el mercado hispano-americano cultivando bien los agentes más autorizados de la metrópoli hispana” ("Keyserling en España o el comercio alemán de ideas", LA CONQUISTA DEL ESTADO, 14 de marzo de 1931).

 

España era en aquel entonces, como ahora lo es, una tierra donde se decidían en reuniones de sociedad y cultura el peso de las potencias en litigio.

 

Podemos concluir que la Escuela de Sabiduría de Keyserling pudo ser, a la vez que un centro de filosofía, un laboratorio de ideas de cierto pangermanismo de entreguerras que ensayaba estratagemas para lograr alianzas con grandes bloques geopolíticos, como el que constituye la Hispanidad. El triunfo del nacional-socialismo hitleriano supuso la persecución y extinción de muchas organizaciones semejantes a la de Keyserling (recordemos el acoso al que fue sometido por los nazis también el hierofante Rudolf Steiner y su antroposofía). En España, tras la Guerra Civil, la filosofía de Keyserling declinó y su estrella se apagó... Quedó como un borroso recuerdo de los tiempos anteriores a la matanza en que nos vimos envueltos.

 

Tal vez la lección que nos depare el caso de Keyserling se pueda resumir en el interés que todas las potencias mundiales han mostrado en ejercer sobre España su influencia cultural, con la intención de ejercerla a su vez sobre los países hermanos de Hispanoamérica: franceses, ingleses, alemanes, rusos se han dividido las simpatías de los españoles. Algunos españoles, como Valle-Inclán, trabajaron para los Aliados durante la Primera Guerra Mundial, otros españoles hicieron profesión de germanofilia y hasta en medio de los tiros en la Guerra Civil se oían vivas a Rusia. De muy diferente modo, los países que han competido por la hegemonía mundial se las han averiguado para hacernos de su cuerda.

 

¿No será ya hora de crear nuestros propios centros culturales con claro propósito de realizar una gran política hispanista? Sí creo que lo va siendo. Y por simple razón de supervivencia. Espero muy pronto abordar la cuestión.

 

BIBLIOGRAFÍA:

 

Varios libros de Hermann Conde de Keyserling.

 

Varios libros de Eugenio d'Ors.

 

Federico Sciacca, "La filosofía, hoy".

 

Emile Bréhier, "Historia de la Filosofía", vol. 2.

 

Antonio Machado, "Juan de Mairena".

 

 

En la fotogafía: sentados Pío Baroja, Menéndez Pidal, Keyserling; Edith Sironi (mujer de Gecé) y Gecé. De pie; Rafael Alberti, Emilio García Gomez, Sainz Rodriguez, Pedro Salinas, Rivera Pastor, Bergamín, Americo Castro, Antonio Marichalar, Cesar Arconada y Ramiro Ledesma. Del blog: HISPANIARUM

El pensamiento ecuménico de Vladimir Soloviev

El pensamiento ecuménico de Vladimir Soloviev

Ex: http://culturatransversal.wordpress.com

por Elisa Buzzi

El pasado 7 de febrero [de 2003. N.C.T.] se celebró en Lugano una jornada de estudio dedicada a Vladimir Soloviev y su visión de la dimensión cultural de la Iglesia, con ocasión del ciento cincuenta aniversario de su nacimiento, acaecido en Moscú en 1853. El encuentro, organizado por el Consejo Pontificio para la Cultura y por la Facultad de Teología de Lugano, contó con algunos de los máximos expertos en el pensador ruso: Nynfa Bosco, profesor emérito de la universidad de Turín, que abordó el tema «La filosofía occidental en el juicio de V. Soloviev»; Adriano Dell’Asta, de la Universidad Católica de Milán, que habló sobre «El islam, el judaísmo y las demás religiones en el pensamiento de Soloviev»; Michelina Tenace, de la Universidad Gregoriana de Roma, que disertó sobre «Rusia y Occidente según Soloviev» y Patrick De Laubier, de Ginebra, que intervino acerca de «La tradición espiritual rusa y los desafíos contemporáneos».

Al introducir el trabajo de la jornada, el profesor Libero Gerosa, Rector de la Facultad de Teología, subrayó la perspectiva que los organizadores del encuentro habían querido indicar como punto de vista privilegiado para afrontar la compleja figura de Soloviev, a saber, su pensamiento «ecuménico», punto de encuentro entre las dos grandes tradiciones europeas y lugar de apertura a la realidad global. Se trata de un argumento de grandísima actualidad, teniendo en cuenta el «nuevo momento de diálogo» entre el catolicismo y la ortodoxia, y es con toda seguridad uno de los aspectos más significativos de un pensador para el que, como afirmó hace tiempo Juan Pablo II, «el fundamento mismo de la cultura es el reconocimiento incondicionado de la existencia del otro», un reconocimiento que le llevó a rechazar «un universalismo cultural monolítico» y a consagrar su existencia de profeta apasionado del ecumenismo «a la reunificación de ortodoxos y católicos» (Angelus, 1 de septiembre de 1996).

Piedra angular

La búsqueda de la unidad a todos los niveles, la «unitotalidad», según la expresión acuñada por él, puede considerarse la piedra angular que sostiene y da coherencia a todo el sistema de este pensador absolutamente original, a menudo paradójico y «extraño», imposible de reducir a los esquemas de la cultura académica. Soloviev, que poseía además de extraordinarias dotes intelectuales una profunda sensibilidad poética, contribuyó más que nadie al renacimiento espiritual ruso del siglo XX, y es autor de la creación especulativa más universal de la edad moderna, una obra tan monumental que le valió el apelativo de «santo Tomás de la Iglesia de Oriente». Sin embargo, como subrayaron los ponentes del encuentro, tal unidad no procede, para Soloviev, de un principio abstracto, un universal teórico o ético, sino de la persona viva de Jesucristo, punto fundamental de su vida y de su pensamiento. A esta presencia viva se dirige Soloviev como hacia el amigo más íntimo y querido, «mi Cristo», criterio de todo lo que el hombre piensa y siente y, sin embargo, irreductible tanto a sentimientos subjetivos como a valores o conceptos abstractos, ya que es inseparable de la Iglesia: «Para nosotros Dios no tiene realidad sin Cristo, Dios-hombre; es más, el mismo Cristo dejaría de ser real para nosotros si no fuera más que un recuerdo histórico: es preciso que se nos revele en el presente. Y esta revelación presente debe ser independiente de nuestra limitación individual. Esta realidad de Cristo y de su vida, independiente de nuestros límites personales, nos es dada en la Iglesia».

Separación entre conciencia y ser

La potencia y la coherencia de esta visión, que refleja plenamente la «actitud ortodoxo-católica», se manifiestan sobre todo en el juicio crítico que Soloviev hace del desarrollo de la cultura filosófica occidental, cuyo error fundamental radica en la separación entre conciencia y ser, separación que no puede sino terminar desintegrándose en extremismos dialécticos opuestos, con un resultado inevitablemente nihilista, que constituye un verdadero suicidio. Estos extremos se ponen de manifiesto de forma aún más clara en la posición que él asumió respecto del «escándalo» de la separación entre cristianos, especialmente entre ortodoxos y católicos, y más en general respecto del problema del pluralismo religioso. Como es sabido, la actitud ecuménica de Soloviev, tanto desde un punto de vista existencial como teórico, fue compleja y aparentemente contradictoria. Pese a haber llegado a aceptar explícitamente a la Iglesia de Roma tanto en el nivel dogmático como en la práctica sacramental, nunca se convirtió formalmente, o por lo menos no abjuró jamás de la ortodoxia. Es más, siguió desalentando cualquier forma de conversión individual o de unión exterior, consideradas por él «no sólo inútiles, sino incluso nocivas para la obra universal». Estas actitudes resultan incomprensibles para una perspectiva que reduce el ecumenismo a un problema de conversión de una tradición a otra, o a una forma de irenismo indiferentista.

Un don originario

Para Soloviev la unidad no es una obra que los hombres puedan o deban construir con sus fuerzas, sino un don originario, un dato ya presente —aunque oscurecido por las divisiones históricas— que nos es ofrecido por la persona de Cristo. Por eso «el problema no consiste en crear una única Iglesia universal, Iglesia que en su esencia y a pesar de todo ya existe en la actualidad, sino en hacer que la manifestación visible de la Iglesia se vuelva conforme a su esencia». Catolicismo y ortodoxia están unidos por los vínculos divino-humanos del sacerdocio, de la tradición dogmática y de los sacramentos, «pero en estos vínculos constitutivos actúa el Espíritu de Cristo Dios-Hombre y no nuestro espíritu personal». La unidad de ambas Iglesias, «que existe ya en Cristo y en la acción de su Gracia, debe realizarse en nuestra realidad personal»: el problema del ecumenismo es, ciertamente, un «problema de conversión», pero de conversión a Cristo presente.

Contenido irreductible del cristianismo

La conversión a Cristo, como imperativo ante todo para los cristianos, es el modelo con el que Soloviev afronta también la relación con las demás religiones. La persona de Jesús, que es el contenido irreductible del cristianismo, la única «verdad» que lo distingue originalmente, es también, justamente por eso, la verdad de cada hombre y de cada cultura, capaz de valorar y de llevar a cumplimiento todo cuanto de verdadero, bello y justo ha presagiado, deseado y expresado cada hombre y cada tradición religiosa. También en este caso la posición de Soloviev —aun manifestando máxima apertura y simpatía hacia las características positivas de las grandes religiones, desde el judaísmo y el islam hasta las antiguas tradiciones orientales y el budismo, de las que ofrece análisis agudísimos y de una actualidad desconcertante—, está muy lejos de esas formas de irenismo o de relativismo tan políticamente correctas en la actualidad.

 

 

Ningún riesgo de «sincretismo»

Merece la pena transcribir un largo pasaje de Soloviev —citado en la conferencia de Adriano Dell’Asta— sobre la religión universal, ya que despeja, de forma lúcida y definitiva, un equívoco sincretista, «la espiritualidad sin dogmas», que hoy es continuamente propuesto como si se tratase de una evidencia racional o de un imperativo moral: «La religión debe ser universal y única —observa Soloviev—. Pero para esto no basta, como piensan algunos, con quitar de las religiones existentes todos los rasgos particulares que las diferencian, privándolas de su individualidad positiva. Esta generalización y unificación de las religiones, esta reducción a un único exponente, da como resultado un minimum de contenido religioso. Entonces, ¿por qué no proceder a reducir la religión al minimum absoluto, es decir, a cero? Esta religión abstracta, a la que se ha llegado por medio de la negación lógica (llamada religión racional, natural, deísmo puro o cualquier otra cosa) sirve siempre a las inteligencias consecuentes como puente hacia el ateísmo total, mientras que logra retener únicamente a las mentes superficiales y a los caracteres débiles e insinceros. Es evidente que desde el punto de vista religioso la meta no puede ser un minimum positivo. Un maximum positivo y una forma religiosa serán superiores cuanta mayor riqueza, vida y concreción tengan. La religión perfecta no es la que se conserva de igual modo en todas las religiones (el contenido indiferenciado de las religiones), sino la que contiene a todas en sí misma (la plena síntesis religiosa). El fanatismo ignorante que se aferra a una única tradición particular (…) y el racionalismo abstracto que disuelve todas las religiones en un magma de conceptos indeterminados haciendo confluir todas las formas religiosas en una única generalidad vacía, impotente e incolora, son igualmente contrarios al verdadero concepto de religión».

En el fondo de toda tradición

A esta imagen de verdad como «supersistema», vacío y abstractamente homologador, Soloviev opone la necesidad, para cada tradición religiosa, de convertirse ante todo a sí misma, de ir al fondo de las características y de las exigencias que constituyen la fisonomía única de su propia autodefinición, para encontrar al final de este recorrido, mediante el testimonio de los cristianos, la novedad imprevisible y absolutamente gratuita de la verdad cristiana: la persona de Cristo, «lo más querido para nosotros, pues sabemos que en Él reside corporalmente toda la plenitud de la Divinidad».

Fuente: Conoze