Guerra y Estado

Guerra y Estado

Por Sergio Prince C.

http://geviert.wordpress.com/

Schmitt comparte con Hegel algunos aspectos fundamentales de la teoría del Estado, los que resultan de suma importancia al momento de estudiar la relación de la guerra con lo político. En general, las convergencias se dan en torno a la ética del Estado y a la importancia que ambos asignan al ius publicum europaeum y se pueden apreciar entre  los siguientes documentos:

a] la conferencia dictada por Schmitt en 1929, titulada en alemán Staatsethik und pluralistischer Staat [El Estado ético y el Estado pluralista] (Schmitt, 1999) que dice relación con la importancia que ambos autores asignan a la ética en el Estado y las obras de Hegel «La Filosofía del derecho» (Hegel, 2009) y  «La Constitucion de Alemania» (Hegel, 1972),

b] la obra del mismo Schmitt «El nomos de la tierra» (Schmitt, 2002) , donde el autor lleva a cabo su proyecto de reconstrucción del orden juridico estatal e interestatal de la Europa Moderna y la ya citada« Filosofía del derecho» (Hegel, 2009).

En [a],  la Conferencia de 1929, encontramos al menos dos coincidencias:

[1] Schmitt coincide con Hegel en el carácter ético del Estado. Dice nuestro autor:

El acto propio del Estado consiste en determinar la situación concreta, en el seno de la cual sólo puede estar en vigor, en un plano general, normas morales y jurídicas. En efecto, toda norma presupone una situación normal. No hay norma en vigoren el vacío, en una situación a – normal [con respecto a la norma]. Si el Estado «pone las condiciones exteriores de la vida ética», esto quiere decir que crea la situación normal (Kervégan, 2007, pág. 157).

En otras palabras, ambos autores estiman que el Estado es el requisito fundamental para que exista la vida ética a nivel jurídico – político y a nivel particular: la familia y la sociedad civil. Si bien es cierto que hay que buscar la raíces del Estado en estas instituciones, las dos son histórica y empíricamente posteriores a él, pues sólo la existencia del Estado permite que se diferencien  dos entidades éticas sin causar la disolución de la unidad política.

 

[2] Otra coincidencia entre el filósofo y el jurista  es que este último, haciendo uso del lenguaje hegeliano, se refiere al Estado  como “el divino terrestre”, el “Reino de la razón objetiva y la eticidad”, “la unidad monista del universum” y “los problemas que conciernen al Espíritu Objetivo”. Por otra parte, Schmitt cita de modo casi idéntico ciertas fórmulas de «La Constitución de Alemania» (Hegel, 1972) donde el filósofo de Jena opone al desorden político del Imperio alemán un Estado fuerte. Para Schmitt, la situación alemana al finalizar la República de Weimar es idéntica a la vivida por Hegel con el derrumbe del Sacro Imperio Romano Germano (Kervégan, 2007).

En [b],  «El Nomos de la Tierra», encontramos al menos una coincidencia:

[1] Schmitt reconoce a la FD como un monumento grandioso, como la expresión conceptual más elaborada de la forma – Estado y del derecho interestatal propio de este período de la historia. Este Estado ha actuado, al menos en el suelo europeo, como el portador del progreso en el sentido de una creciente racionalización y acotación de la guerra. Comenta Kervégan que, en el fondo, se trata de reconocer al Estado moderno “el mérito absoluto de haber asegurado la paz exterior e interior, gracias al monopolio que conquistó sobre el espacio político” (Schmitt, 2002, págs. 136-137) (Kervégan, 2007, págs. 159-160).

En resumen, hasta aquí, las coincidencias entre Schmitt y Hegel son 1] que ambos piensan en el Estado como una entidad fundamentalmente ética, 2] que ambos viven épocas similares, tiempos de desorden político que los hace pensar que la era del Estado y de la europäische Staatlichkeit [legislación europea] habían llegado a su fin y 3] ambos reconocen al Estado haber aportado a la paz. Para nuestro análisis, esto indica que, si la guerra es fundamento de lo político-jurídico, entonces es la guerra la creadora de la entidad ética fundamental, en el seno de la cual se configuran la familia y la sociedad civil como espacios éticos primordiales para la ordenación de la paz. Revisemos estas conclusiones provisorias.

Para Schmitt (Schmitt, 2006, pág. 64), la guerra es el horizonte de lo político, “es el presupuesto que está siempre dado como posibilidad real, que determina de una manera peculiar la acción y el pensamiento humanos, originando así una conducta específicamente política”. Por su parte, para Hegel la guerra es:

[1] La determinación del Estado que, por medio de la fuerza, acalla las divisiones e intereses particulares.

[2] Un medio que permite al Estado develarse y desempeñar de modo óptimo su función.

[2.1] La configuración que permite el predominio del Estado sobre la sociedad, la particularidad y la diversidad.

[2.2] La ordenación que une las esferas particulares en la unidad del Estado.

[2.3] La representación que afirma la naturaleza del Estado y del patriotismo exigiendo y obteniendo del individuo el sacrificio de lo que, en tiempos de paz, parecía constituir la esencia misma de su existencia: la familia, su propiedad, sus opiniones, su vida.

 

Escribe Hegel en FD §324: “Se hace un cálculo  muy equivocado cuando, en la exigencia de este sacrificio, el Estado es considerado sólo como Sociedad Civil, y como su fin último es solamente tenida en cuenta la garantía de la vida y la propiedad de los individuos; puesto que esa garantía no se obtiene con el sacrificio de lo que debe ser garantido, sino al contrario.”. “De este modo, aunque la guerra trae consigo la inseguridad de la propiedad y de la existencia, es una inseguridad saludable, conectada con la vida y el movimiento. La inseguridad y la muerte son desde luego necesarias, pero en el Estado se vuelven morales al ser libremente escogidas” (Hegel, 2009, pág. 264) (Hassner, 2006):

“La guerra […], constituye el momento en el cual la idealidad de lo particular alcanza su derecho y se convierte en realidad; ella consigue su más elevado sentido en que, por su intermedio, como ya lo he explicado en otro lugar “la salud ética de los pueblos se mantiene en su equilibrio frente al fortalecimiento de las determinaciones finitas del mismo modo que el viento preserva al mar de la putrefacción, a la cual la reduciría una durable  o más aún,  perpetua quietud.”

Ahora bien, toda esta vitalidad ética, este dinamismo que manifiesta la guerra no se reduce a la positividad de la igualdad consigo misma sino que se realiza, se objetiva en la enemistad, ante la presencia del enemigo. Esto como resultado de la soberanía que aparece, en primer lugar, como una relación de exclusión frente al otro, al extraño. La soberanía, la independencia es un ser para sí excluyente. Veamos brevemente cuál es la tesis de Carl Schmitt  sobre la enemistad. Primero, definamos antítesis  amigo-enemigo y, luego, revisemos algunas características de esta.

[1] La antítesis amigo-enemigo es una categoría conceptual, concreta y existencial de lo político. Sin enemigos no hay guerra, no hay política, no hay Estado, no hay Derecho. En palabras de Kervégan, para Schmitt “el enemigo es una determinación especulativa, la figura exteriorizada de la negatividad constitutiva de la identidad consigo positiva de la vida ética.” Así, la soberanía del Estado aparece como una relación de exclusión frente a otros Estados (Kervégan, 2007, pág. 161).

A la antítesis amigo-enemigo se pueden asignar muchas características pero, siguiendo a Herrero López, destaco tres de las más relevantes para mi investigación:

[1] El Enemigo «es el otro público», es otro extranjero, algo distinto y extraño con  quien se puede llegar a pelear una guerra. ¿Qué significa este otro? Resumiendo a Schmitt, responde Herrero López: Enemigo  es más que el sujeto individual, se refiere a la totalidad de los hombres que luchan por su vida. El enemigo privado es aquel que sólo me afecta “a mí”. Por el contrario, el otro público es el que afecta a toda la comunidad, al pueblo en su conjunto y sólo al final me molesta personalmente.

[2] El enemigo es hostis no inimicus. Esta es la distinción que introduce Schmitt para señalar el matiz enunciado supra [1]. Para hacerla, se funda en Platón, en los evangelios de Mateo (5, 44) y Lucas (6,27) y en el diccionario de latín Forcellini Lexicon totius Latinitatis. Platón, llama guerra sólo a aquella que se lucha entre helenos y bárbaros, entre griegos y extranjeros. Por su parte, los evangelios dicen “diligite inimicos vestros” pero no dicen “diligite hostis vestros”, lo que indica a Schmitt que existe una clara distinción entre inimicus y hostis. Como ejemplo, cita la lucha entre el cristianismo y el Islam diciendo que no se puede entregar Europa por amor a los sarracenos y que sólo en el ámbito individual tiene sentido el amor al enemigo. No se puede amar a quien amenaza destruir al propio pueblo, por lo tanto, en opinión de Schmitt, la sentencia bíblica no afecta al enemigo político. Ahora bien, consultando el diccionario Forcellini, Schmitt se encuentra con la definición de hostis que versa como sigue: “Hostis  is est cum quo publice Bellum habemus […] in quo ab inimico differt, qui est is, quoqum habemus privata odia.Dstingui etiam sic possunt in inimicus sit qui nos odit: hostis qui oppungat” (Herrero López, 1997).

[3] El hostis supone una enemistad pública y existencial que incluye la posibilidad extrema de su aniquilación física, de su muerte. Al concepto de enemigo y residiendo en el ámbito de lo real, corresponde la eventualidad de un combate. La guerra es el combate armado entre unidades políticas organizadas; la guerra civil es el combate armado en el interior de una unidad. Lo esencial en el concepto de “arma” es que se trata de un medio para provocar la muerte física de seres humanos. Al igual que la palabra “enemigo”, la palabra “combate” debe ser entendida aquí en su originalidad primitiva esencial. Los conceptos de amigo, enemigo y combate reciben su sentido concreto por el hecho de que se relacionan, especialmente, con la posibilidad real de la muerte física y mantienen esa relación. La guerra proviene de la enemistad puesto que ésta es la negación esencial de otro ser. La guerra es solamente la enemistad hecha real del modo más manifiesto. No tiene por qué ser algo cotidiano, algo normal; ni tampoco tiene por qué ser percibido como algo ideal o deseable. Pero debe estar presente como posibilidad real si el concepto de enemigo ha de tener significado (Schmitt, 2006).

Ya hemos dicho que Schmitt y Hegel piensan en el Estado como una entidad fundamentalmente ética creada por la guerra. Aún más, la guerra es el atributo que afirma la naturaleza del Estado exigiendo y obteniendo del individuo el sacrificio de lo que en tiempos de paz parecía constituir la esencia misma de su vida En otros términos el Estado, como espacio ético, requiere del valor militar para su consolidación y su defensa, lo que implica el enfrentar a un enemigo que tiene la intención y la posibilidad real de causarle la muerte.

Guerra, ética y  Estado

Más allá de las circunstancias y los acontecimientos que provocan la guerra, esta sobrelleva una necesidad que le confiere una grandeza ética. Dice Kervégan que la guerra hace accidental y material lo que es en sí y para sí accidental y material: la vida, la libertad, la propiedad, aquello que en la paz tiene mayor valía a los ojos de los individuos-ciudadanos. La guerra es la penosa advertencia de la verdad cardinal de la ética hegeliana del Estado: la supervivencia de éste es la condición de existencia toda otra disposición ética. La guerra hace insubstancial la frivolidad y la trivialidad. La guerra, por todos los sacrificios que impone, ilustra la sumisión positiva, racional, práctica y reflexiva de lo finito a lo infinito, de lo contingente a lo necesario, de lo particular a lo universal (Kervégan, 2007).

Asimismo, “porque el sacrificio por la individualidad del Estado consiste en la relación sustancial de todos y es, por lo tanto, un deber general, al mismo tiempo como un aspecto de la idealidad, frente a la realidad de la existencia particular y le es consagrada una clase propia: el valor militar. Ahora bien, para que llege a existir esta clase, para que existan ejércitos permanentes, se deben argumentar – las razones, las consideraciones de las ventajas y las desventajas, los aspectos exteriores e interiores como los gastos con sus consecuencias, los mayores impuestos-,  muy respetuosamente ante la conciencia de la Sociedad Civil.  (Hegel, 2009, págs. 265-266) (§ 325-326).

Es clara la relación entre valor militar y sociedad civil. Son un devenir dialéctico de la configuración y la reconfiguración permanente del Estado ante el espectro de la guerra presente en su horizonte. Pero ¿qué es el valor militar, cuáles son sus contenidos? Escribe Hegel que el valor militar es  por sí “una virtud formal, porque es la más elevada abstracción de la libertad de todos los fines, bienes, satisfacciones y vida particulares; pero esa negación existe en un modo extrínsecamente real y su manifestación como cumplimiento no es en sí misma de naturaleza espiritual: es interna disposición de ánimo, éste o aquel motivo; su resultado real no puede ser para sí, sino únicamente para los demás (Hegel, 2009, pág. 266) (§ 327). En otros términos, podemos decir que las principales características del valor militar son, al menos, cuatro. A saber, carácter axiológico, moralista, contingente y filantrópico:

[1] Carácter axiológico: Una virtud formal.

[2] Carácter moralista: Es la más elevada abstracción de la libertad

[3] Carácter contingente: No es de naturaleza espiritual

[4] Carácter filantrópico: Su resultado es para los demás

Siguiendo esta línea argumentativa, Hegel dirá que el contenido del valor militar, como disposición de ánimo, se encuentra en la Soberanía., es decir, por medio de la acción y la entrega voluntaria de la realidad personal la Soberanía es obra del fin último del valor militar. Este encierra el rigor de las cuatro grandes antítesis:

[1]  entrega – libertad. La entrega misma pero como existencia  de la libertad.

[2]  independencia – servicio. La independencia máxima del ser por sí cuya existencia es realidad, a la vez en el mecanismo de su orden exterior y del servicio

[3]  obediencia – decisión. La obediencia y el abandono total de la opinión y del razonamiento particular, por lo tanto, la ausencia de un espíritu propio; la presencia instantánea, bastante intensa y comprensiva del espíritu y de la decisión,

[4]  hostilidad – bondad. El obrar más hostil y personal contra los individuos, en la disposición plenamente indiferente, más bien buena, hacia ellos en cuanto individuos.

Comenta Hegel que arriesgar la vida es algo más que sólo temer la muerte pero, por esto mismo, arriesgar la vida es mera negación y no tiene ni determinación ni valor por sí. Sólo lo positivo, el fin y el contenido de este acto proporciona a este al valor militar ya que ladrones y homicidas también arriesgan la vida con su propio fin delictuoso, lo que es un acto de coraje pero carece de sentido. Ahora bien, el valor militar ha llegado a serlo en su sentido más abstracto ya que el uso de armas de fuego, de la artillería no permite que se manifieste el valor individual, sino que permite la demostración del valor por parte de una totalidad (Hegel, 2009).

El Estado, como espacio ético, requiere del valor militar para su consolidación y su defensa, lo que implica enfrentar a un enemigo que tiene la intención y la posibilidad real de causarle la muerte. Pero arriesgar la vida es un acto valioso dependiendo del objetivo así como la definición y las características del valor militar nos muestran que este existe en una tensión dialéctica ante el horizonte siempre actualizable de la guerra que viven la familia, la Sociedad Civil y el Estado. En otros términos, el valor militar sólo cobra sentido en la objetivación del todo jurídico-político, en su relación dialéctica con la Sociedad Civil. No es una virtud fuera de esta.

Conclusión

La unidad de pensamientos entre algunos escritos de Hegel y el pensamiento de Schmitt nos da señales de una unidad intelectual entre los dos filósofos tudescos, la que nos permitió realizar nuestro estudio del Valor Militar utilizando a Schmitt como un apoyo interpretativo de lo dicho por Hegel en la Filosofía del Derecho. Ambos dan señales claras de entender una relación clara entre guerra, política y Estado. Aún más, para estos autores, la guerra es el atributo que afirma la naturaleza del Estado exigiendo y obteniendo del individuo el sacrificio de lo que en tiempos de paz parecía constituir la esencia misma de su vida. En otros términos, el Estado, como espacio ético, requiere del valor militar para su consolidación y su defensa, lo que implica enfrentar a un enemigo que tiene la intención y la posibilidad real de causarle la muerte.

El Estado, como espacio ético, requiere del valor militar para su consolidación y su defensa, lo que involucra necesariamente enfrentar a un enemigo que tiene la intención y la posibilidad real de causarle la muerte, pero arriesgar la vida es un acto valioso dependiendo del objetivo así como la definición y las características del valor militar nos muestran que este existe en una tensión dialéctica ante el horizonte siempre actualizable de la guerra que viven la familia, la Sociedad Civil y el Estado.

Como ya hemos dicho, el valor militar sólo cobra sentido en la objetivación del todo jurídico-político, en su relación dialéctica con la Sociedad Civil. No es una virtud fuera de esta. Se sigue que el valor militar es una virtud abstracta propia del estamento militar, de las Fuerzas Armadas que tienen a cargo la Defensa del Estado. Se trata de una determinación propia de un cuerpo de profesionales que se manifiesta sólo en circunstancias extraordinarias, cuando está en peligro la existencia misma del Estado. La valentía militar es necesaria pero no es de naturaleza espiritual. Sin embargo, se caracteriza por lo que podríamos llamar altas virtudes espirituales en los ámbitos axiológico, moral, contingente y filantrópico.

Finalmente, son dignas de destacar las antítesis que componen la naturaleza del valor militar. Estas podrían llamarse con toda libertad, virtudes del soldado: la entrega, el servicio, la obediencia y la bondad. Todo en una tensión dialéctica que requiere de la inteligencia para poder equilibrarlas dentro de sus opuestos y así cumplir con su objetivo: defender la Soberanía de Chile.

Trabajos Citados

Hassner, P. (2006). George W. F. Hegel [1770-1831]. En L. Strauss, & J. Cropsey, Historia de la filosofía política (págs. 689-715). México: Fondo de Cutura Económica.

Hegel, G. (2009). Filosofía del derecho (1 ed., Vol. 1). (Á. Mendoza de Montero, Trad.) Buenos Aires, Argentina: Claridad.

Hegel, G. (1972). La Constitución de Alemania (1ª ed., Vol. 1). (D. Negro Pavon, Trad.) Madrid, España: Aguilar S.A.

Herrero López, M. (1997). ElNnomos y lo político: La filosofía Política de Carl Schmitt. Navarra: EUNSA.

Kervégan, J. F. (2007). Hegel, carl Schmitt. Lo político entre especulación y posotividad. Madrid: Escolar y Mayo.

Schmitt, C. (2006). El concepto de lo político. Madrid: Alianza Editorial.

Schmitt, C. (2002). El nomos de la tierra en el Derecho de Gentes del Ius Publicum Europaeum (1 ed., Vol. 1). (J. L. Moreneo Pérez, Ed., & D. S. Thou, Trad.) Granada, España: Editorial Comares S.L.

Schmitt, C. (1999). Ethic of State and Pluratistic State. En C. Mouffe, & C. Mouffe (Ed.), The Challenge of Carl Schmitt (Inglesa ed., Vol. 1, págs. 195 – 208). Londres, Inglaterra: Verso.

Life Styles: Native and Imposed

Life Styles: Native and Imposed

By Kevin Beary

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

For decades now, African American leaders have been calling for a formal United States apology for the American role in the slave trade, with some even demanding reparations. Indian tribes proclaim their tax-exempt status as something they are owed for a legacy of persecution by the United States. Mexican Americans in the southwest United States seek to incorporate this region, including California, into Mexico, or even to set up an independent nation, Aztlan, that will recreate the glories of the Aztec empire, destroyed centuries ago by the imperialistic Spaniards.

That we live in an age of grievance and victimhood is not news. But did these peoples — these Mexican-Americans, these Native Americans, these African-Americans — really lose more than they gained in their confrontation with the West? Were they robbed of nobility, and coarsened? Or did White subjugation force them to shed savagery and barbarousness, and bring them, however unwillingly, into civilized humanity?

Today our children our being taught that the people who lived in the pre-Columbian Western Hemisphere were not “merciless Indian savages” (as Jefferson calls them in the Declaration of Independence), many of whom delighted in torture and cannibalism, but rather spiritually enlightened “native Americans” whose wise and peaceful nobility was rudely destroyed by invading European barbarians; that the Aztecs were not practitioners of human sacrifice and cannibalism on a scale so vast that the mind of the 20th-century American can hardly comprehend it, but rather defenders of an advanced civilization that was destroyed by brutal Spanish conquistadores; and that Africans were not uncultured slave traders and cannibals, but unappreciated builders of great empires.

But just how did these peoples live before they came into contact with Europeans? Although historical myth is ever more rapidly replacing factual history, not only in popular culture but also in our schools and universities, we may still find accurate historical accounts buried in larger libraries or in used book stores.

Aztec Civilization

In his famous work, The Conquest of New Spain, Bernal Diaz del Castillo describes the march on Mexico with his captain, Hernan Cortés, in 1519. The Spanish forces set out from the Gulf of Mexico, and one of the first towns they visited was Cempoala, situated near the coast, where Cortés told the chiefs that “they would have to abandon their idols which they mistakenly believed in and worshipped, and sacrifice no more souls to them.” As Diaz relates:

Every day they sacrificed before our eyes three, four, or five Indians, whose hearts were offered to those idols, and whose blood was plastered on the walls. The feet, arms, and legs of their victims were cut off and eaten, just as we eat beef from the butcher’s in our country. I even believe that they sold it in the tianguez or markets.

Of their stay in Tenochtitlan, the present-day Mexico City and the heart of the Aztec empire, Diaz writes that Emperor Montezuma’s servants prepared for their master

more than thirty dishes cooked in their native style. . . . I have heard that they used to cook him the flesh of young boys. But as he had such a variety of dishes, made of so many different ingredients, we could not tell whether a dish was of human flesh or anything else. . . . I know for certain, however, that after our Captain spoke against the sacrifice of human beings and the eating of their flesh, Montezuma ordered that it should no longer be served to him.

In renouncing cannibalism, was Montezuma cooperating in the destruction of his Aztec “cultural roots,” or was he aiding a victory of civilized custom over barbaric?

A few pages later, Diaz provides a detailed description of

the manner of their [that is, the Aztecs'] sacrifices. They strike open the wretched Indian’s chest with flint knives and hastily tear out the palpitating heart which, with the blood, they present to the idols in whose name they have performed the sacrifice. Then they cut off the arms, thighs, and head, eating the arms and thighs at their ceremonial banquets. The head they hang up on a beam, and the body of the sacrificed man is not eaten but given to the beasts of prey.

Diaz also describes the great market of Tenochtitlan, and its

dealers in gold, silver, and precious stones, feather, cloaks, and embroidered goods, and male and female slaves who are also sold there. They bring as many slaves to be sold in that market as the Portuguese bring Negroes from Guinea. Some are brought there attached to long poles by means of collars round their necks to prevent them from escaping, but others are left loose.

Following the ceremony in which humans are sacrificed to their gods, high-ranking Aztecs eat the flesh of the victims. A Spanish witness commented:

This figure demonstrates the abominable thing that the Indians did on the day they sacrificed to their idols. After [the sacrifice] they placed many large earthen cooking jars of that human meat in front of their idol they called Mictlantecutli, which means lord of the place of the dead, as it is mentioned in other parts [of this book]. And they gave and distributed it to the notables and overseers, and to those who served in the temple of the demon, whom they called tlamacazqui [priests]. And these [persons] distributed among their friends and families that [flesh] and these [persons] which they had given [to the god as a human victim]. They say it tasted like pork meat tastes now. And for this reason pork is very desirable among them.

Plainly it was the Spanish who stamped out human sacrifice and cannibalism among the people of pre-Cortesian Mexico. As for slavery, it is as obvious that the Europeans did not introduce it to the New World as it is that they eradicated it, albeit not immediately. Moreover, the moral impulse to end slavery came from the West, specifically out of England. Had the Aztecs, Indians, and Africans been left to their own devices, slavery might well have endured in North and South America, as it does in parts of present-day Africa.

North American Natives

In his epic work France and England in North America, the great American historian Francis Parkman describes the early 17th-century recreational and culinary habits of the Iroquois Indians (also known as the Five Nations, from whom, some will have it, the United States derived elements of its Constitution). He tells that the Iroquois, along with other tribes of northeastern United States and Canada, “were undergoing that process of extermination, absorption, or expatriation, which, as there is reason to believe, had for many generations formed the gloomy and meaningless history of the greater part of this continent.” Parkman describes an attack by the Iroquois on an Algonquin hunting party, late in the autumn of 1641, and the Iroquois’ treatment of their prisoners and victims:

They bound the prisoners hand and foot, rekindled the fire, slung the kettles, cut the bodies of the slain to pieces, and boiled and devoured them before the eyes of the wretched survivors. “In a word,” says the narrator [that is, the Algonquin woman who escaped to tell the tale], “they ate men with as much appetite and more pleasure than hunters eat a boar or a stag . . .”

The conquerors feasted in the lodge till nearly daybreak . . . then began their march homeward with their prisoners. Among these were three women, of whom the narrator was one, who had each a child of a few weeks or months old. At the first halt, their captors took the infants from them, tied them to wooden spits, placed them to die slowly before a fire, and feasted on them before the eyes of the agonized mothers, whose shrieks, supplications, and frantic efforts to break the cords that bound them were met with mockery and laughter . . .

The Iroquois arrived at their village with their prisoners, whose torture was

designed to cause all possible suffering without touching life. It consisted in blows with sticks and cudgels, gashing their limbs with knives, cutting off their fingers with clam-shells, scorching them with firebrands, and other indescribable torments. The women were stripped naked, and forced to dance to the singing of the male prisoners, amid the applause and laughter of the crowd . . .

On the following morning, they were placed on a large scaffold, in sight of the whole population. It was a gala-day. Young and old were gathered from far and near. Some mounted the scaffold, and scorched them with torches and firebrands; while the children, standing beneath the bark platform, applied fire to the feet of the prisoners between the crevices. . . . The stoicism of one of the warriors enraged his captors beyond measure . . . they fell upon him with redoubled fury, till their knives and firebrands left in him no semblance of humanity. He was defiant to the last, and when death came to his relief, they tore out his heart and devoured it; then hacked him in pieces, and made their feast of triumph on his mangled limbs.

All the men and all the old women of the party were put to death in a similar manner, though but few displayed the same amazing fortitude. The younger women, of whom there were about thirty, after passing their ordeal of torture, were permitted to live; and, disfigured as they were, were distributed among the several villages, as concubines or slaves to the Iroquois warriors. Of this number were the narrator and her companion, who . . . escaped at night into the forest . . .

Of the above account, Parkman writes: “Revolting as it is, it is necessary to recount it. Suffice it to say, that it is sustained by the whole body of contemporary evidence in regard to the practices of the Iroquois and some of the neighboring tribes.”

The “large scaffold” on which the prisoners were placed, is elsewhere in his narrative referred to by Parkman as the Indians’ “torture-scaffolds of bark,” the Indian equivalent of the European theatrical stage, while the tortures performed by the Indians on their neighbors — and on the odd missionary who happened to fall their way — were the noble savages’ equivalent of the European stage play.

If the descendants of the New England tribes now devote their time to selling tax-free cigarettes, running roulette wheels, or dealing out black jack hands, rather than to the capture, torture, and consumption of their neighboring tribesmen, should we not give thanks to those brave Jesuits who sacrificed all to redeem these “native Americans”?

Native Africans

What kind of life did the African live in his native land, before he was brought to America and introduced to Western civilization? That slavery was widely practiced in Africa before the coming of the white man is beyond dispute. But what sort of indigenous civilization did the African enjoy?

In A Slaver’s Log Book, which chronicles the author’s experiences in Africa during the 1820s and 1830s, Captain Theophilus Conneau (or Canot) describes a tribal victory celebration in a town he visited after an attack by a neighboring tribe:

On invading the town, some of the warriors had found in the Chief’s house several jars of rum, and now the bottle went round with astonishing rapidity. The ferocious and savage dance was then suggested. The war bells and horns had sounded the arrival of the female warriors, who on the storming of a town generally make their entry in time to participate in the division of the human flesh; and as the dead and wounded were ready for the knife, in they came like furies and in the obscene perfect state of nakedness, performed the victorious dance which for its cruelties and barbarities has no parallel.

Some twenty-five in number made their appearance with their faces and naked bodies besmeared with chalk and red paint. Each one bore a trophy of their cannibal nature. The matron or leader . . . bore an infant babe newly torn from its mother’s womb and which she tossed high in the air, receiving it on the point of her knife. Other Medeas followed, all bearing some mutilated member of the human frame.

Rum, powder, and blood, a mixture drunk with avidity by these Bacchantes, had rendered them drunk, and the brutal dance had intoxicated them to madness. Each was armed also with some tormenting instrument, and not content with the butchering outside of the town of the fugitive women, they now surrounded the pile of the wounded prisoners, long kept in suspense for the coup de grâce. A ring was formed by the two-legged tigresses, and accompanied by hideous yells and encouraging cry of the men, the round dance began. The velocity of the whirling soon broke the hideous circle, when each one fell on his victims and the massacre began. Men and women fell to dispatching the groaning wounded with the most disgusting cruelties.

I have seen the tiger pounce on the inoffensive gazelle and in its natural propensity of love of blood, strangle its victim, satiate its thirst, and often abandon the dead animal. But not so with these female cannibals. The living and dying had to endure a tormenting and barbarous mutilation, the women showing more cannibal nature in the dissection of the dead than the stronger sex. The coup de grâce was given by the men, but in one instance the victim survived a few minutes when one of those female furies tormented the agony of the dying man by prostrating herself on his body and there acting the beast of double backs.

The matron, commander of these anthrophagies, with her fifty years and corpulous body, led the cruelties on by her example. The unborn babe had been put aside for a bonne bouche, and now adorned with a string of men’s genital parts, she was collecting into a gourd the brains of the decapitated bodies. While the disgusting operating went on, the men carved the solid flesh from the limbs of the dead, throwing the entrails aside.

About noon the butchering was at an end, and a general barbecuing took place. The smell of human flesh, so disgusting to civilized man, was to them the pleasing odor so peculiarly agreeable to a gastronomer …

The barbecuing over, an anthrophagous repast took place, when the superabundant preserved flesh was packed up in plantain leaves to be sent into the Interior for the warriors’ friends. I am silent on the further cruelties that were practiced this day on the unfortunate infirm and wounded that the different scouting parties brought in during the day, supposing the reader to be sick enough at heart at the above representation.

Vanishing History

This is the history that has been handed down to us by men who either were present when the recorded events took place — that is, Diaz and Conneau — or who had access to period documents — that is, Parkman. But this factual history has suffered greatly at the hands of politically correct myth-mongers. The books themselves are disappearing from the shelves: Conneau’s book has been out of print for nearly a generation; perhaps Diaz’s and Parkman’s will follow in the next 20 years. In its place, the most absurd historical fantasies are substituted. As the seemingly inexorable forces of political correctness grind on, we may be left with as much knowledge of our true history as Orwell’s Winston Smith had of his.

Were it not for their subjugation by Europeans, Mexicans would perhaps have continued to practice the Aztec traditions of slavery, human sacrifice, and cannibalism; many American Indians would probably still be living their sad and perilous life of nomadism, subsistence farming, and warfare; and Africans would likely be expiring in even greater numbers on the fields of mayhem and slaughter (as the world has noted to its horror in Rwanda, Liberia and Congo), when not being bought and sold as slaves (as still is done in Sudan and Mauritania).

In his 1965 work, The Course of Empire: The Arabs and their Successors, the sagacious Glubb Pasha wrote in defense of Western colonialism:

Foreign military conquest has not only enabled backward people to acquire the skills and the culture of the conquerors, but it has often administered a salutary shock to the lethargic mentality of the inhabitants, among whom the desire to rise to equality with the foreigners has roused a new spirit of energy. . . . Britain has permeated Asia and Africa with her ideas of government, of law and of ordered civilization. The men of races who less than a hundred years ago were naked are now lawyers, doctors and statesmen on the stage of the world.

But if the present trend of denigrating the West’s mission civilisatrice continues, the achievements of that great civilizing venture might well be squandered and lost forever. If we permit inhumane customs and mores to reassert themselves, the ultimate dissolution of the West itself is not an impossibility. In his famous poem “White Man’s Burden,” Rudyard Kipling eloquently spelled out the fate of a culture that loses faith in itself and its mission:

And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch Sloth and heathen Folly
Turn all your hope to naught.

Journal of Historical Review 17, no. 3 (May–June 1998), 7–11.

Online source: http://library.flawlesslogic.com/lifestyles.htm ^[2]

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

Révolte, irrationnel, cosmicité et... pseudo-antisémitisme

Archives de SYNERGIES EUROPEENNES - 1987

Révolte, irrationnel, cosmicité et... pseudo-antisémitisme

par Michel FROISSARD

Ex: http://vouloir.hautetfort.com/

[Pour Matthes, Mattheus et Bergfleth, la philosophie doit se replonger dans l'élémentaire de la vie et de la mort et quitter le petit monde politisé dans lequel les tenants de l'École de Francfort et Habermas avaient voulu l'enfermer. Le jeu d'ombre de cette photographie expressionniste de Frantisek Drtikol exprime bien l'émergence d'une féminité élémentaire où se mêlent désirs érotiques et engouements pour les puissances de le physis. Le mélange d'érotisme et de thanatomanie se répère dans les sculptures tombales. La photographe Isolde Ohlbaum a consacré un ouvrage illustré à cet art des cimetières (Denn alle Lust will Ewigkeit : Erotische Skulpturen auf europäischen Friedhöfen, Greno, Nördlingen). Plus bas, une photographie tirée de ce livre.]

Contre les pensées pétrifiées, il faut recourir à la révolte, disent les animateurs de la maison d'éditions Matthes & Seitz de Munich, éditrice des textes les plus rebelles de RFA et propagatrice de la pensée d'un Bataille et d'un Artaud, d'un Drieu et d'un Dumézil, d'un Leiris et d'un Baudrillard. Attentifs au message de cette inclassable pensée française, rétive à toute classification idéologique, Matthes, Mattheus et Bergfleth, principales figures de ce renouveau, si impertinent pour le conformisme de la RFA, estiment que c'est par ce détour parisien que la pensée allemande prendra une cure de jouvence. Mattheus et Matthes avaient, fin 1985, publié une anthologie de textes rebelles qu'ils avaient intitulée d'une phrase-confession, inspirée de Genet : “Ich gestatte mir die Revolte” (Je me permets la révolte...). Leur révolte, écrit l'essayiste hongrois Laszlo Földényi, dans une revue de Budapest, n'a rien de politique ; elle ne se réfère pas à telle ou telle révolution politique concrète ni à l'aventure soixante-huitarde ni à de quelconques barricades d'étudiants ; elle se niche dans un héritage culturel forcément marginal aujourd'hui, où notre univers est club-méditerranisé, elle campe dans de belles-lettres qui avivent les esprits hautains, s'adressent à des cerveaux choisis.

Une révolte à dimensions cosmiques

Ces derniers, eux, doivent se réjouir d'une anthologie où Hamann et Hebbel sont voisins de Céline et de Bataille, et où tous ces esprits éternels conjuguent leur puissance pour dissoudre les pétrifications, pour sauver la culture de ce que Friedrich Schlegel nommait la « mélasse de l'humanisme » (Sirup des Humanismus). “Révolte”, ici, n'implique aucune démonstration de puissance politique, de force paramilitaire et/ou révolutionnaire, note Földényi, mais, au contraire, une retenue avisée de puissance, dans le sens où Mattheus et Matthes nous enseignent à nous préparer à l'inéluctable, la mort, pour jouir plus intensément de la vie ; de renoncer aux pensées unilatérales : « L'extrémisme politique institutionalisé transforme souvent l'État en maison d'arrêt : c'est là la forme déclinante de la radicalité... ».

Les réflexions cosmiques d'un Bataille, les outrances céliniennes recèlent davantage de potentialités philosophiques, affirment Matthes et Mattheus, que les programmes revendicateurs, que les spéculations strictement sociologiques qui se sont posés comme objets de philosophie dans l'Allemagne de ces 3 ou 4 dernières décennies. Contrairement à Camus, moraliste, et aux exégètes de l'École de Francfort, Matthes, Mattheus et Bergfleth pensent que la “Révolte”, moteur de toute originalité de pensée, ne vise pas à l'instauration d'un Bien pré-défini et que l'activité humaine ne se résume pas à un processus sociologique de production et de reproduction ; elle indique bien plutôt cette “Révolte” à dimensions cosmiques, l'expression des outrances les plus violentes et les plus audacieuses de l'âme humaine qu'aucune codification de moralistes étriqués et qu'aucun utilitarisme calculateur ne pourront jamais appréhender dans leur totalité, dans leur profusion cosmique et tellurique.

La “Révolte” comme force innée

La raison des philosophes et des idéologues n'est qu'un moyen pratique et commode pour affronter une quotidienneté sans reliefs importants. Dans une lettre du peintre André Masson, reproduite dans l'anthologie de Matthes et Mattheus, on trouve une réflexion qui rejoint la préoccupation du groupe éditorial munichois : aucun enthousiasme révolutionnaire n'est valable, s'il ne met pas à l'avant-plan les secrets et les mystères de la vie et de la mort. C'est pourquoi l'attitude “Révolte” détient une supériorité intrinsèque par rapport au phénomène “révolution” qui, lui, est limité dans un espace-temps : il commence et il se termine et, entre ces 2 points, une stratégie et une tactique ponctuelles s'élaborent.

La “Révolte”, elle, est “primitive” et “a-dialectique” ; elle fait irruption à des moments intenses et retourne aussitôt vers un fonds cosmo-tellurique d'où, récurrente, elle provient, revient et retourne. La “Révolte” est un principe constant, qu'une personnalité porte en elle ; elle est un sentiment, une attitude, une présence, une rébellion. La plupart des hommes, faibles et affaiblis par nombre de conformismes, oublient ce principe et obéissent aux “ordres pétrifiés” ou remplacent cette force innée par une caricature : la dialectique oppositionnelle.

Et si le dialecticien politisé croit à un “télos” bonheurisant, sans plus ni projets ni soucis, réalisable dans la quotidienneté, le “révolté”, être d'essence supérieure, sait la fragilité de l'existence humaine, et, dans la tension qu'implique ce savoir tragique, s'efforce de créer, non nécessairement une œuvre d'art, mais un ordre nouveau des choses de la vie, frappé du sceau de l'aventureux. Avec le romantique Novalis, Matthes et Mattheus croient à la créativité de ce rassemblement de forces que l'homme, conscient de sa fragilité, est capable de déployer.

Retour à l'irrationnel ?

[Sculpture érotique d'une tombe. Photographie d'I. Ohlbaum. « Tout désir veut l'éternité » : tel est le titre de son superbe recueil de photographies, renvoyant à ce fameux vers de Nietzsche : « Doch alle Lust will Ewigkeit – will tiefe, tiefe Ewigkeit ! » (Also sprach Zarathustra)]

Témoignent de cette créativité foisonnante toutes les poésies, toutes les œuvres, toutes les pensées imperméables aux simplifications politiciennes. C'est précisément dans cette “zone imperméable” que la philosophie ouest-allemande doit retourner, doit aller se ressourcer, afin de briser le cercle vicieux où elle s'enferre, avec pour piètre résultat un affrontement Aufklärung-Gegenaufklärung, où l'Aufklärung adornien donne le ton, béni par les prêtres inquisiteurs du journalisme. Pour Matthes et Mattheus, tout prosélytisme est inutile et rien ne les poussera jamais à adopter cette répugnante praxis. La “Révolte” échappe à l'alternative commode “rationalisme-irrationalisme”, comme elle échappe aux notions de Bien et de Mal et se fiche de tout establishment.

Le carnaval soixante-huitard n'a conduit à aucun bouleversement majeur, comme l'avait si bien prévu Marcel Jouhandeau, criant aux étudiants qui manifestaient sous son balcon : « Foutez-moi le camp ! Dans dix ans, vous serez tous notaires ! ». La tentation politicienne mène à tous les compromis et à l'étouffement des créativités. L'objectif de Matthes et Mattheus, c'est de recréer un climat, où la “Révolte” intérieure, son “oui-non” créateur, puisse redonner le ton. Un “oui” au flot du devenir, aux grouillements du fonds de l'âme et à la violence puissante des instincts et un “non” aux pétrifications, aux modèles tout faits. C'est au départ de cet arrière-plan que se développe, à Munich, l'initiative éditoriale de Matthes. Ce dernier précise son propos dans une entrevue accordée à Rolf Grimminger  :

« Le traumatisme des intellectuels allemands, c'est “l'irrationalisme”. Le concept “irrationalisme” a dégénéré en un terme passe-partout, comme le mot “fascisme” ; il ne signifie plus rien d'autre qu'une phobie, que j'aimerais, moi, baptiser de “complexe de l'irrationalisme”. Je pose alors la question de savoir dans quelle mesure la raison est si sûre d'elle-même quand elle affronte son adversaire, aujourd'hui, avec une telle véhémence d'exorciste. Fébrile, la raison diffame tout ce qui lui apparaît incommensurable et sa diffamation use des vocables “non-sens”, “folie”, “anormalité”, “perversion”, bref le “mal” qu'il s'agit d'exclure.

Par cette exclusion, on exclut l'homme lui-même : tel est mon argument personnel. La raison n'est et n'a jamais été une valeur en soi ; il lui manque toute espèce de souveraineté ; elle est et reste un pur moyen pratique. L'homme, pour moi, est certes un animal doté de raison, mais il n'est pas assermenté à la raison et ses potentialités et ses aspirations ne s'épuisent pas dans la raison. Et celui qui affirme le contraire, ne peut avoir pour idéal que le camp de travail » (Die Ordnung, das Chaos und die Kunst, Suhrkamp, Frankfurt/M., 1986, p. 253).

En France : la Cité ; en Allemagne : la Raison

Le lecteur français, en prenant acte de tels propos, ne percevra pas immédiatement où se situe le “scandale”... En France, la polémique tourne autour des notions d'universalisme et de cosmopolitisme, d'une part, et d'enracinement et d'identité, d'autre part. BHL parie pour Jérusalem et la Loi, qui transcendent les identités “limitantes”, tandis qu'un Gérald Hervé, condamné au silence absolu par les critiques, parie pour Rome, Athènes et les paganités politiques (in : Le mensonge de Socrate ou la question juive, L'Âge d'Homme, 1984). Dans la querelle actuelle qui oppose philo-européens et philo-sémites (car tel est, finalement, qu'on le veuille ou non, le clivage), le débat français a pour objet premier la Cité et celui de la citoyenneté-nationalité), tandis que le débat allemand a la question plus abstraite de la raison.

La Raison, que dénoncent Bergfleth et Matthes, est, en RFA, l'idole érigée dans notre après-guerre par les vainqueurs américains et aussi la gardienne conceptuelle d'une orthodoxie et la garante d'un culpabilisme absolu. Pour provoquer l'establishment assis sur ce culte de la raison, établi par l'École de Francfort, et ce philo-sémitisme obligé, soustrait d'office à toute critique, Bergfleth écrit, au grand scandale des bien-pensants :

« La judéité des Lumières (aufklärerisches Judentum) ne peut, en règle générale, appréhender le sens de la spécificité allemande, des nostalgies romantiques, du lien avec la nature, du souvenir indéracinable du passé païen germanique... ».

Ou, plus loin :

« Ainsi, une nouvelle Aufklärung a généré un non-homme, un Allemand qui a l'autorisation d'être Européen (CEE, ndlr), Américain, Juif ou autre chose, mais jamais lui-même. Grâce à cette rééducation perpétrée par la gauche, rééducation qui complète définitivement sa défaite militaire, ce non-homme est devenu travailleur immigré dans son propre pays, un immigré qui reçoit son pain de grâce culturel des seigneurs cyniques de l'intelligentsia de gauche, véritable mafia maniant l'idéologie des Lumières ».
 

L'inévitable reproche d'antisémitisme

Plus pamphlétaire que Gérald Hervé, moins historien, Bergfleth provoque, en toute conscience de cause, le misérable Zeitgeist ouest-allemand ; il brise allègrement les tabous les plus vénérés des intellectuels, éduqués sous la houlette de Benjamin et d'Adorno et de leurs nombreux disciples. Son complice Matthes, qui ne renie nullement ce que Benjamin et Adorno lui ont apporté, estime que si ce philo-sémitisme est absolu et exclut, parce qu'il est asséné en overdose, des potentialités intellectuelles, philosophiques, culturelles et humaines, il limite la liberté, occulte des forces sous-jacentes que le philosophe a le devoir de déceler et de montrer au grand jour. Une telle attitude n'est pas assimilable à l'anti-sémitisme militant habituel, pense Matthes : la critique d'une pensée issue de la théologie judaïque est parfaitement légitime. Cette critique n'exclut pas d'office ce que la théologie et le prophétisme judaïques ont apporté à la culture humaine ; elle a pour objectif essentiel de ne laisser aucune culture, aucun héritage, en marge des spéculations contemporaines.

La philosophie ne consiste pas à répéter une vérité sue, déjà révélée, à encenser une idole conceptuelle par des psaumes syllogistiques, mais de rechercher au-delà de la connaissance “ce que la connaissance cache”, c'est-à-dire d'explorer sans cesse, dans une quête sans fin, le fond extra-philosophique, concret, tangible, tellurique, l'humus prolifique, la profusion infinie faite d'antagonismes, qui précèdent et déterminent toutes les idées. Où est l'anti-sémitisme propagandiste dans une telle démarche, à l'œuvre depuis les Grecs pré-socratiques ? Peut-on sérieusement parler, ici, d'anti-sémitisme ? Ce simple questionner philosophique qui interroge l'au-delà des concepts ne saurait être criminalisé, et s'il est criminalisé et marqué du stigmate de l'anti-sémitisme, ceux qui le criminalisent. sont ridicules et sans avenir fecond.

Les aphorismes de Mattheus

Criminaliser les irrationalismes, cela a été une marotte de l'après-guerre philosophique allemand, sous prétexte d'anti-fascisme. En France, il restait des espaces de pensée irrationaliste, en prise sur la littérature, avec Artaud, Bataille, Genet, etc. C'est le détour parisien que s'est choisi Bernd Mattheus, éditeur allemand d'Artaud et biographe de Bataille, pour circonvenir les interdits de l'intelligentsia allemande. Celle-ci, dans son dernier ouvrage, Heftige Stille (Matthes & Seitz, 1986), n'est pas attaquée de front, à quelques exceptions près ; le style de vie cool, soft, banalisé, consumériste, anhistorique, flasque, rose-bonbon, empli de bruits de super-marchés, de tiroirs-caisses électroniques, qu'indirectement et malgré la critique marcusienne de l'unidimensionalité, la philosophie francfortiste de la raison a généré en RFA, est battu en brèche par des aphorismes pointus, inspirés des moralistes français, qui narguent perfidement les êtres aseptisés, purgés de leur germanité, qui ont totalement (totalitairement ?) assimilé au thinking packet franfortiste, comme ils ingurgitent les lunch packets de Mac Donald.

Laissons la parole à Mattheus :

« Ô combien ennuyeux l'homme qui n'a plus aucune contradiction » (p. 102).

« Ne jamais perdre de vue la lutte contre la pollution de notre intériorité » (p. 123).

« Le désenchantement rationaliste du monde, c'est, d'après Ludwig Klages, la triste facette du travail de l'intellect humain. Pour déréaliser le monde, on peut se servir soit de la ratio soit de la folie. Mais chacune de ces deux voies indique que l'homme ne peut supporter le monde réel tel quel et cherche à s'en débarrasser. Si l'on juge ces deux voies d'après la situation dans laquelle évoluent les sujets qui leur sont livrés, la déréalisation semble plutôt accentuer les souffrances et le désespoir ; d'où le dilemme : soit bêtifié et heureux soit fou et malheureux (Ernst Jünger) » (p. 166).

« Les systèmes libéraux n'ont nul besoin de censure ; la sélection des “biens culturels” se fait aux caisses des magasins et cette sélection-là est bien plus rigoureuse que ne le serait n'importe quelle sélection politique » (p. 183-4).

« Pourquoi Artaud, pourquoi Bataille ? Parce que j'apprécie l'ivresse lucide » (p. 257).

Une stratégie de l'attention

Disloquer les certitudes francfortistes, et le “prêt-à-penser” médiatique qu'elles ont généré, passe par un plongeon dans l'extra-philosophique et par ce style aphoristique de La Rochefoucauld, déjà préconisé par Nietzsche. Prendre connaissance, dans l'espace linguistique francophone, du travail de Bergfleth, Matthes et Mattheus, et s'habituer au climat qu'ils contribuent à créer à l'aide de productions philosophiques françaises, c'est travailler à la constitution d'un axe franco-allemand autrement plus efficace et porteur d'histoire que la ridicule collaboration militaire dans le cadre de l'OTAN, où les dés sont de toute façon pipés, puisque l'Allemagne et son armée n'ont aucun statut de souveraineté. De notre part, l'initiative de Bergfleth, Matthes et Mattheus, doit conduire à une efficace stratégie de l'attention.

♦ Bernd Mattheus, Axel Matthes (Hrsg.), Ich gestatte mir die Revolte, Matthes & Seitz, München, 1985, 397 S., 22

♦ Laszlo FÖLDENYI, article paru à Budapest, reproduit dans le catalogue 1986 de la maison Matthes & Seitz.

Michel Froissard, Vouloir n°40-42, 1987.

Max OTTE:

Oswald Spengler et l’âge des “Césars”

 

Fonctionnaires globaux, négociants libre-échangistes, milliardaires: les questions essentielles posées par Spengler et ses sombres prophéties sont d’une étonnante actualité!

 

Il y a 75 ans, le 8 mai 1936, Oswald Spengler, philosophe des cultures et esprit universel, est mort. Si l’on lit aujourd’hui les pronostics qu’il a formulés en 1918 pour la fin du 20ème siècle, on est frappé de découvrir ce que ce penseur isolé a entrevu, seul, dans son cabinet d’études, alors que le siècle venait à peine de commencer et que l’Allemagne était encore un sujet souverain sur l’échiquier mondial et dans l’histoire vivante, qui était en train de se faire.

 

L’épopée monumentale de Spengler, son “Déclin de l’Occident”, dont le premier volume était paru en 1918, a fait d’edmblée de ce savant isolé et sans chaire une célébrité internationale. Malgré le titre du livre, qui est clair mais peut aisément induire en erreur, Spengler ne se préoccupait pas seulement du déclin de l’Occident. Plus précisément, il analysait les dernières étapes de la civilisation occidentale et réfléchissait à son “accomplissement”; selon lui, cet “accomplissement” aurait lieu dans le futur. C’est pourquoi il a développé une théorie grandiose sur le devenir de la culture, de l’histoire, de l’art et des sciences.

 

Pour élaborer cette théorie, il rompt avec le schéma classique qui divise le temps historique entre une antiquité, un moyen âge et des temps modernes et veut inaugurer rien moins qu’une “révolution copernicienne” dans les sciences historiques. Les cultures, pour Spengler, sont des organismes supra-personnels, nés d’idées matricielles et primordiales (“Urideen”) auxquelles ils demeurent fidèles dans toutes leurs formes et expressions, que ce soit en art, en diplomatie, en politique ou en économie. Mais lorsque le temps de ces organismes est révolu, ceux-ci se figent, se rigidifient et tombent en déliquescence.

 

Sur le plan de sa conception de la science, Spengler se réclame de Goethe: “Une forme forgée/façonnée (“geprägt”), qui se développe en vivant” (“Geprägte Form, die lebend sich entwickelt”). Dans le germe d’une plante se trouve déjà tout le devenir ultérieur de cette plante: selon la même analogie, l’ “Uridee” (l’idée matricielle et primordiale) de la culture occidentale a émergé il y a mille ans en Europe; celle de la culture antique, il y a environ trois mille ans dans l’espace méditerranéen. Toutes les cultures ont un passé ancien, primordial, qui est villageois et religieux, puis elle développent l’équivalent de notre gothique, de notre renaissance, de notre baroque et de nos époques tardives et (hyper)-urbanisées; ces dernières époques, Spengler les qualifie de “civilisation”. Le symbole originel (“Ursymbol”) de la culture occidentale est pour Spengler la dynamique illimitée des forces, des puissances et de l’espace, comme on le perçoit dans les cathédrales gothiques, dans le calcul différentiel, dans l’imprimerie, dans les symphonies de Beethoven, dans les armes capables de frapper loin et dans les explorations et conquêtes des Vikings. La culture chinoise a, elle aussi, construit des navires capables d’affronter la haute mer ainsi que la poudre à canon, mais elle avait une autre “âme”. L’idée matricielle et primordiale de la Chine, c’est pour Spengler, le “sentier” (“der Pfad”). Jamais la culture chinoise n’a imaginé de conquérir la planète.

 

Dans toutes les cultures, on trouve la juxtaposition d’une volonté de puissance et d’un espace spirituel et religieux, qui se repère d’abord dans l’opposition entre aristocratie et hiérocratie (entre la classe aristocratique et les prêtres), ensuite dans l’opposition politique/économie ou celle qu’il y a entre philosophie et sciences. Et, en fin de compte, au moment où elles atteignent leur point d’accomplissement, les civilisations sombrent dans ce que Spengler appelle la “Spätzeit”, l’ “ère tardive”, où règne une “seconde religiosité” (“eine zweite Religiosität”). Les masses sortent alors du flux de l’histoire et se vautrent dans le cycle répétitif et éternel de la nature: elles ne mènent plus qu’une existence simple.

 

La “Spätzeit” des masses scelle aussi la fin de la démocratie, elle-même phase tardive dans toutes les cultures. C’est à ce moment-là que commence l’ère du césarisme. Il n’y a alors “plus de problèmes politiques. On se débrouille avec les situations et les pouvoirs qui sont en place (...). Déjà au temps de César les strates convenables et honnêtes de la population ne se préoccupaient plus des élections. (...) A la place des armées permanentes, on a vu apparaître progressivement des armées de métier (...). A la place des millions, on a à nouveau eu affaire aux “centaines de milliers” (...)”. Pourtant, Spengler est très éloigné de toute position déterministe: “A la surface des événements mondiaux règne toutefois l’imprévu (...). Personne n’avait pu envisager l’émergence de Mohammed et le déferlement de l’islam et personne n’avait prévu, à la chute de Robespierre, l’avènement de Napoléon”.

 

La guerre dans la phase finale de la civilisation occidentale

 

La vie d’Oswald Spengler peut se raconter en peu de mots: né en 1880 à Blankenburg dans le Harz, il a eu une enfance malheureuse; le mariage de ses parents n’avait pas été un mariage heureux: il n’a généré que problèmes; trop de femmes difficiles dans une famille où il était le seul garçon; il a fréquenté les “Fondations Francke” à Halle; il n’avait pas d’amis: il lisait, il méditait, il élaborait ses visions. Il était loin du monde. Ses études couvrent un vaste champs d’investigation: il voulait devenir professeur et a abordé la physique, les sciences de la nature, la philosophie, l’histoire... Et était aussi un autodidacte accompli. “Il n’y avait aucune personnalité à laquelle je pouvais me référer”. Il ne fréquentait que rarement les salles de conférence ou de cours. Il a abandonné la carrière d’enseignant dès qu’un héritage lui a permis de mener une existence indépendante et modeste. Il n’eut que de très rares amis et levait de temps à autre une fille dans la rue. On ne s’étonnera dès lors pas que Spengler ait choisi comme deuxième mentor, après Goethe, ce célibataire ultra-sensible que fut Friedrich Nietzsche. Celui-ci exercera une profonde influence sur l’auteur du “déclin de l’Occident”: “De Goethe , j’ai repris la méthode; de Nietzsche, les questions”.

 

L’influence politique de Spengler ne s’est déployée que sur peu d’années. Dans “Preussentum und Sozialismus” (“Prussianité et socialisme”), un livre paru en 1919, il esquisse la différence qui existe entre l’esprit allemand et l’esprit anglais, une différence qui s’avère fondamentale pour comprendre la “phase tardive” du monde occidental. Pour Spengler, il faut le rappeler, les cultures n’ont rien d’homogène: partout, en leur sein, on repère une dialectique entre forces et contre-forces, lequelles sont toujours suscitées par la volonté de puissance que manifeste toute forme de vie. Pour Spengler, ce qui est spécifiquement allemand, ou prussien, ce sont les idées de communauté, de devoir et de solidarité, assorties du primat du politique; ces idées ont été façonnées, au fil du temps, par les Chevaliers de l’Ordre Teutonique, qui colonisèrent l’espace prussien au moyen âge. Ce qui est spécifiquement anglais, c’est le primat de la richesse matérielle, c’est la liberté de rafler du butin et c’est l’idéal du Non-Etat, inspiré par les Vikings et les pirates de la Manche.

 

“C’est ainsi que s’opposent aujourd’hui deux grands principes économiques: le Viking a donné à terme le libre-échangiste; le Chevalier teutonique a donné le fonctionnaire administratif. Il n’y a pas de réconciliation possible entre ces deux attitudes et toutes deux ne reconnaissent aucune limite à leur volonté, elles ne croiront avoir atteint leur but que lorsque le monde entier sera soumis à leur idée; il y aura donc la guerre jusqu’à ce que l’une de ces deux idées aura totalement vaincu”. Cette opposition irréconciliable implique de poser la question décisive: laquelle de ces deux idées dominera la phase finale de la civilisation occidentale? “L’économie planétaire prendra-t-elle la forme d’une exploitation générale et totale de la planète ou impliquera-t-elle l’organisation totale du monde? Les Césars de cet imperium futur seront-ils des milliardaires ou des fonctionnaires globaux? (...) la population du monde sera-t-elle l’objet de la politique de trusts ou l’objet de la politique d’hommes, tels qu’ils sont évoqués à la fin du second Faust de Goethe?”.

 

Lorsque, armés du savoir dont nous disposons aujourd’hui, nous jetons un regard rétrospectif sur ces questions soulevées jadis par Spengler, lorsque nous constatons que les lobbies imposent des lois, pour qu’elles servent leurs propres intérêts économiques, lorsque nous voyons les hommes politiques entrer au service de consortiums, lorsque des fonds quelconques, de pension ou de logement, avides comme des sauterelles affamées, ruinent des pans entiers de l’industrie, lorsque nous constatons que le patrimoine génétique se voit désormais privatisé et, enfin, lorsque toutes les initiatives publiques se réduisent comme peau de chagrin, les questions posées par Spengler regagnent une formidable pertinence et accusent une cruelle actualité. En effet, les nouveaux dominateurs du monde sont des milliardaires et les hommes politiques ne sont plus que des pions ou des figures marginalisées.

 

Spengler a rejeté les propositions de Goebbels

 

Spengler espérait que le Reich allemand allait retrouver sa vigueur et sa fonction, comme l’atteste son écrit de 1924, “Neubau des Deutschen Reiches” (= “Pour une reconstruction du Reich allemand”). Dans cet écrit, il exprimait son désir de voir “la partie la plus valable du monde allemand des travailleurs s’unir aux meilleurs porteurs du sentiment d’Etat vieux-prussien (...) pour réaliser ensemble une démocratisation au sens prussien du terme, en soudant leurs efforts communs par une adhésion déterminée au sentiment du devoir”. Spengler utilise souvent le terme “Rasse” (= “race”) dans cet écrit. Mais ce terme, chez lui, signifie “mode de comportement avéré, qui va de soi sans remise en question aucune”; en fait, c’est ce que nous appelerions aujourd’hui une “culture d’organisation” (“Organisationskultur”). Spengler rejetait nettement la théorie folciste (= “völkisch”) de la race. Lorsqu’il parlait de “race”, il entendait “la race que l’on possédait, et non pas la race à laquelle on appartient. La première relève de l’éthique, la seconde de la zoologie”.

 

A la fin des années 20, Spengler se retire du monde et adopte la vie du savant sans chaire. Il ne reprendra la parole qu’en 1933, en publiant “Jahre der Entscheidung” (= “Années décisives”). En quelques mois, le livre atteint les ventes exceptionnelles de 160.000 exemplaires. On le considère à juste titre comme le manifeste de la résistance conservatrice.

 

Spengler lance un avertissement: “Nous ne vivons pas une époque où il y a lieu de s’enthousiasmer ou de triompher (...). Des fanatiques exagèrent des idées justes au point de procéder à la propre annulation de celles-ci. Ce qui promettait grandeur au départ, se termine en tragédie ou en comédie”. Goebbels a demandé à Spengler de collaborer à ses publications: il refuse. Il s’enfonce dans la solitude. Il avait déjà conçu un second volume aux “Années décisives” mais il ne le couche pas sur le papier car, dit-il, “je n’écris pas pour me faire interdire”.

 

Au début du 21ème siècle, l’esprit viking semble avoir définitivement triompher de l’esprit d’ordre. Le monde entier et ses patrimoines culturels sont de plus en plus considérés comme des propriétés privées. La conscience du devoir, la conscience d’appartenir à une histoire, les multiples formes de loyauté, le sens de la communauté, le sentiment d’appartenir à un Etat sont houspillés hors des coeurs et des esprits au bénéfice d’une liberté que l’on pose comme sans limites, comme dépourvue d’histoire et uniquement vouée à la jouissance. La politique est devenue une marchandise que l’on achète. Le savoir de l’humanité est entreposé sur le site “Google”, qui s’en est généralement emparé de manière illégitime; la conquête de l’espace n’est plus qu’un amusement privé.

 

Mais: “Le temps n’autorise pas qu’on le retourne; il n’y aurait d’ailleurs aucune sagesse dans un quelconque retournement du temps comme il n’y a pas de renoncement qui serait indice d’intelligence. Nous sommes nés à cette époque-ci et nous devons courageusement emprunter le chemin qui nous a été tracé (...). Il faut se maintenir, tenir bon, comme ce soldat romain, dont on a retrouvé les ossements devant une porte de Pompéi; cet homme est mort, parce qu’au moment de l’éruption du Vésuve, on n’a pas pensé à le relever. Ça, c’est de la grandeur. Cette fin honnête est la seule chose qu’on ne peut pas retirer à un homme”.

 

Et nous? Nous qui croyons à l’Etat et au sens de la communauté, nous qui sentons au-dessus de nous la présence d’un ciel étoilé et au-dedans de nous la présence de la loi morale, nous qui aimons les symphonies de Beethoven et les paysages de Caspar David Friedrich, va-t-on nous octroyer une fin digne? On peut le supposer. S’il doit en être ainsi, qu’il en soit ainsi.

 

Max OTTE.

(article paru dans “Junge Freiheit”, Berlin, n°19/2011 – http://www.jungefreiheit.de/ ).

 

Max Otte est professeur d’économie (économie de l’entreprise) à Worms en Allemagne. Dans son ouvrage “Der Crash kommt” (= “Le crash arrive”), il a annoncé très exactement, dès 2006, l’éclatement de la crise financière qui nous a frappés en 2008 et dont les conséquences sont loin d’avoir été éliminées.

Ludwig Klages: métaphysicien du paganisme

Baal MÜLLER:

Ludwig Klages: métaphysicien du paganisme

 

“Dans le tourbillon des innombrables tonalités, perceptibles sur notre planète, les consonances et les dissonances sont l’aridité sublime des déserts, la majesté des hautes montagnes, la mélancolie que nous apportent les vastes landes, les entrelacs mystérieux des forêts profondes, le bouillonement des côtes baignées par la lumière des océans. C’est en eux que le travail originel de l’homme s’est incrusté ou s’est immiscé sous l’impulsion du rêve”.

 

C’est par des mots flamboyants et pathétiques, comme ceux que nous citons ici en exergue, et qui sont tirés de son essai le plus connu, “Mensch und Erde” (1913; “L’Homme et la Terre”), que Ludwig Klages n’a jamais cessé de louer le lien à la Terre et la piété naturelle de l’humanité primoridale, dont les oeuvres et les constructions “respirent” ou “révèlent” encore “l’âme du paysage dont ils ont jailli”. Cette unité a été détruite par l’irruption de “l’esprit” aux temps protohistoriques des “Pélasges”, événement qui équivaut à une chute dans le péché cosmique.

 

Le principe que représente “l’esprit” est, pour Klages, le mal fondamental et l’origine d’un processus de déliquescence qui a dominé toute l’histoire. Dans ce sens, “l’esprit” (“Geist”) n’est pas à l’origine une propriété de l’homme ni même une propriété consubstantielle à la réalité mais serait, tout simplement, pour l’homme comme pour le réel, le “Tout autre”, le “totalement étranger”. Pour Klages, seul est “réel” le monde du temps et de l’espace, qu’il comprend comme un continuum d’images-phénomènes, qui n’ont pas encore été dénaturées ou chosifiées par la projection, sur elles, de “l’esprit” ou de la “conscience égotique”, qui en est le vecteur sur le plan anthropologique. La mesure et le nombre, le point et la limite sont, dans la doctrine klagesienne de la connaissance et de l’Etre, les catégories de “l’esprit”, par la force desquelles il divise et subdivise en séquences disparates les phénomènes qui, au départ, sont vécus ontologiquement ou se manifestent par eux-mêmes via la puissance du destin; cette division en séquences disparates rend tout calculable et gérable.

 

Cette distinction, opérée par le truchement de “l’esprit”, permet toutefois à l’homme de connaître: parce qu’il pose ce constat, Klages, en dépit de son radicalisme verbal occasionnel et de ses innombrables critiques, ne peut être perçu comme un “irrationaliste”. Mais si “l’esprit” permet la connaissance, il est, simultanément et matriciellement, la cause première du gigantesque processus d’aveuglement et de destruction qui transformera très bientôt, selon la conviction de Klages, le monde en un vaste paysage lunaire.

 

Ce penseur, né en 1872 à Hanovre et mort en 1956 à Kilchberg,a dénoncé très tôt, avec une clairvoyance étonnante, les conséquences concrètes de la civilisation moderne comme l’éradication définitive d’innombrables espèces d’animaux et de plantes ou le nivellement mondial de toutes les cultures (que l’on nomme aujourd’hui la “globalisation”); cette clairvoyance se lit dès ses premiers écrits, rédigés à la charnière des 19ème et 20ème siècles, repris en 1944 sous le titre de “Rhythmen und Runen” (= “Rythmes et runes”); ils ont été publiés comme “écrits posthumes” alors que l’auteur était encore vivant! Klages est un philosophe fascinant —et cette fascination qu’il exerce est simultanément sa faiblesse selon bon nombre d’interprètes de son oeuvre— parce qu’il a cherché puis réussi à forger des concepts philosophiques fondamentaux aptes à nous faire saisir ce déplorable état de choses, surtout dans son oeuvre principale, “Der Geist als Widersacher des Lebens” (1929-1932).

 

Contrairement à beaucoup de ses contemporains qui, comme lui, avaient adhéré au vaste mouvement dit de “Lebensreform” (= “Réforme de la Vie”), qui traversait alors toute l’Allemagne wilhelminienne, Klages ne s’est pas contenté de recommander des cures dites “modernes” à l’époque, comme le végétarisme, le nudisme ou l’eurythmie; il n’a pas davantage prêché une révolution mondiale qui aurait séduit les pubères et ne s’est pas borné à déplorer les symptômes négatifs du “progrès”; il a tenté, en revanche, comme tout métaphysicien traditionnel ou tout philosophe allemand bâtisseur de systèmes, de saisir par la théorie, une fois pour toutes, la racine du mal. Le problème fondamental, qu’il a mis en exergue, c’est-à-dire celui de l’opposition entre esprit et âme, il l’a étudié et traqué, d’une part, en menant des polémiques passionnelles, qui lui sont propres, et, d’autre part, en l’analysant par des arabesques philosophiques des plus subtiles dans chacun de ses nombreux et volumineux ouvrages. Ceux-ci sont parfois consacrés à des figures historiques comme, par exemple, “Die psychologischen Errungenschaften Nietzsches” (1926; “Les acquis philosophiques de Nietzsche”) mais, dans la plupart des cas, ses ouvrages explorent des domaines que je qualifierais de “systématiques”. Ces domaines relèvent de disciplines comme les sciences de l’expression et du caractère (“Ausdrucks- und Charakterkunde”), qu’il a grandement contribué à faire éclore. Il s’agit surtout de la graphologie, pratique que Klages a hissée au rang de science.

 

En 1895, il fonde, avec Hans H. Busse, “l’Institut de Graphologie Scientifique” à Munich, après des études de chimie entreprises à contre-coeur. Klages consacrera plusieurs ouvrages théoriques à la graphologie, dont il faut mentionner “Handschrift und Charakter” (“Ecriture et caractère”), publié une première fois en 1917. Ce travail a connu de très nombreuses rééditions et permis à son auteur de conquérir un très vaste public. Parmi les autres succès de librairie de Klages, citons un ouvrage très particulier, “Vom kosmogonichen Eros” (1922; “De l’Eros cosmogonique”). Ce livre évoque un “pan-érotisme” et, avec une indéniable passion, les cultes païens des morts. Tout cela rappelle évidemment les idées de son ami Alfred Schuler qui, comme Klages, avait fréquenté, vers 1900, la Bohème littéraire et artistique du quartier munichois de Schwabing.

 

Cet ouvrage sur l’Eros cosmogonique a suscité les plus hautes louanges de Hermann Hesse et de Walter Benjamin. Ce livre parvient parfaitement à maintenir le juste milieu entre philosophie et science, d’une part, entre discours prophétique et poésie, d’autre part: c’est effectivement entre ces pôles qu’oscille l’oeuvre complète de Klages. Cette oscillation permanente permet à Klages, et à son style si typique, de passer avec bonheur de Charybde en Scylla, passages hasardeux faits d’une philosophie élaborée, fort difficle à appréhender pour le lecteur d’aujourd’hui: malgré une très grande maîtrise de la langue allemande, Klages nous livre une syntaxe parfaite mais composée de phrases beaucoup trop longues, explicitant une masse énorme de matière philosophique, surtout dans son “Widersacher”, brique de 1500 pages. Enfin, le pathos archaïsant du visionnaire et de l’annonciateur, que Klages partageait avec bon nombre de représentants de sa génération, rend la lecture malaisée pour nos contemporains. 

 

Mais si le lecteur d’aujourd’hui surmonte les difficultés initiales, il découvrira une oeuvre d’une grande densité philosophique, exprimée en une langue qui se situe à des années-lumière du jargon médiatique contemporain. Cette langue nous explique ses observations sur la perception “atmosphérique” et “donatrice de forme”, sur la conscience éveillée et sur la conscience onirique ou encore sur les structures de la langue et de la pensée: elle nous interdit d’en rester au simplisme du dualisme âme/esprit qui sous-tend son idée première (qui n’est pas défendable en tous ses détails et que ressortent en permanence ses critiques superficiels). Face à son programme d’animer un paganisme nouveau, que l’on peut déduire de son projet philosophique général, il convient de ne pas s’en effrayer de prime abord ni de l’applaudir trop vite.

 

Le néo-paganisme de Klages, qui n’a rien à voir avec l’astrologie, la runologie ou autres dérivés similaires, doit surtout se comprendre comme une “métaphysique du paganisme”, c’est-à-dire comme une explication philosophique a posteriori d’une saisie du monde païenne et pré-rationnelle. Il ne s’agit donc pas de “croire” à des dieux personnalisés ou à des dieux ayant une fonction déterminée mais d’adopter une façon de voir qui, selon la reconstruction qu’opère Klages, fait apparaître le cosmos comme “animé”, “doté d’âme”, et vivant. Tandis que l’homme moderne, par ses efforts pour connaître le monde, finit par chosifier celui-ci, le païen, lui, estime que c’est impiété et sacrilège d’oser lever le voile d’Isis.

 

Baal MÜLLER.

(article paru dans “Junge Freiheit”, Berlin, n°27/1999; http://www.jungefreiheit.de/ ).

Carl Schmitt: Volk und Menschheit

Jonathan Bowden: Marxism and The Frankfurt School

Entretien avec Paul Gottfried

Entretien avec Paul Gottfried : les étranges métamorphoses du conservatisme

Propos recueillis par Arnaud Imatz

Ex: http://www.polemia.com/

Professeur de Lettres classiques et modernes à l’Elizabethtown College, président du Henry Louis Mencken Club, co-fondateur de l’Académie de Philosophie et de Lettres, collaborateur du Ludwig von Mises Institute et de l’Intercollegiate Studies Institute, Paul Edward Gottfried est une figure éminente du conservatisme américain. Il est l’auteur de nombreux livres et articles sur notamment le paléo et néoconservatisme. Proche de Pat Buchanan, qui fut le candidat républicain malheureux aux primaires des présidentielles face à George Bush père (1992), Paul Gottfried a été l’ami de personnalités politiques comme Richard Nixon et intellectuelles prestigieuses telles Sam Francis, Mel Bradford, Christopher Lasch…

1. Au début des années 1970 vous sympathisiez avec le courant dominant du conservatisme américain. Quarante ans plus tard, le spécialiste notoire du conservatisme américain que vous êtes, déclare ne plus se reconnaître dans ce mouvement. Que s’est-il passé ?

L’explication tient dans le fait qu’il n’y a pas de véritable continuité entre le mouvement conservateur américain des années 1950 et celui qui a pris sa place par la suite. Sur toutes les questions de société, le mouvement conservateur actuel, « néo-conservateur », est plus à gauche que la gauche du Parti démocrate dans les années 1960. Depuis cette époque, et surtout depuis les années 1980, les néo-conservateurs [1] dominent la fausse droite américaine. Leur préoccupation essentielle, qui éclipse toutes les autres, est de mener une politique étrangère fondée sur l’extension de l’influence américaine afin de propager les principes démocratiques et l’idéologie des droits de l’homme.

2. Selon vous, les conservateurs authentiques croient en l’histoire et aux valeurs de la religion ; ils défendent la souveraineté des nations ; ils considèrent l’autorité politique nécessaire au développement de la personne et de la société. Aristote, Platon, Saint Thomas, Machiavel, Burke ou Hegel sont, dites vous, leurs références à des titres divers. Mais alors comment les néo-conservateurs, partisans de la croissance du PNB, du centralisme étatique, de la démocratie de marché, du multiculturalisme et de l’exportation agressive du système américain, ont-ils pu s’imposer?

J’ai essayé d’expliquer cette ascension au pouvoir des néo-conservateurs dans mon livre Conservatism in America. J’ai souligné un point essentiel : à l’inverse de l’Europe, les États-Unis n’ont jamais eu de véritable tradition conservatrice. La droite américaine de l’après-guerre n’a été, en grande partie, qu’une invention de journalistes. Elle se caractérisait par un mélange d’anticommunisme, de défense du libre marché et de choix politiques prosaïques du Parti républicain. Il lui manquait une base sociale inébranlable. Son soutien était inconstant et fluctuant. Dans les années 1950, le mouvement conservateur a essayé de s’enraciner parmi les ouvriers et les salariés catholiques ouvertement anti-communistes et socialement conservateurs. Mais à la fin du XXème siècle cette base sociale n’existait plus.

Les néo-conservateurs proviennent essentiellement de milieux juifs démocrates et libéraux. Antisoviétiques pendant la guerre froide, pour des raisons qui étaient les leurs, ils se sont emparés de la droite à une époque ou celle-ci était épuisée et s’en allait littéralement à vau-l’eau. J’ajoute que les conservateurs de l’époque, qui faisaient partie de l’establishment politico-littéraire et qui étaient liés à des fondations privées, ont presque tous choisi de travailler pour les néo-conservateurs. Les autres se sont vus marginalisés et vilipendés.

3. (…)

4. (…)

5. Vous avez payé le prix fort pour votre indépendance d’esprit. Vos adversaires néo-conservateurs vous ont couvert d’insultes. Votre carrière académique a été torpillée et en partie bloquée. La direction de la Catholic University of America a fait l’objet d’incroyables pressions pour que la chaire de sciences politiques ne vous soit pas accordée. Comment expliquez-vous que cela ait pu se produire dans un pays réputé pour son attachement à la liberté d’expression ?

Il n’y a pas de liberté académique aux États-Unis. La presque totalité de nos universités sont mises au pas ( gleichgeschaltet ) comme elles le sont dans les pays d’Europe de l’Ouest, pour ne pas parler du cas de l’Allemagne « antifasciste » ou la férule a des odeurs nauséabondes. Tout ce que vous trouvez en France dans ce domaine s’applique également à la situation de notre monde académique et journalistique. Compte tenu de l’orientation politique de l’enseignement supérieur aux États-Unis, je ne pouvais pas faire une véritable carrière académique.

6. (…)

7. (…)

8. Vos travaux montrent qu’en Amérique du Nord comme en Europe l’idéologie dominante n’est plus le marxisme mais une combinaison d’État providence, d’ingénierie sociale et de mondialisme. Vous dites qu’il s’agit d’un étrange mélange d’anticommunisme et de sympathie résiduelle pour les idéaux sociaux-démocrates : « un capitalisme devenu serviteur du multiculturalisme ». Comment avez-vous acquis cette conviction ?

Mon analyse de l’effacement du marxisme et du socialisme traditionnel au bénéfice d’une gauche multiculturelle repose sur l’observation de la gauche et de sa pratique aux États-Unis et en Europe. Le remplacement de l’holocaustomanie et du tiers-mondisme par des analyses économiques traditionnelles s’est produit avant la chute de l’Union soviétique. Au cours des années 1960-1970, les marqueurs politiques ont commencé à changer. Les désaccords sur les questions économiques ont cédé la place à des différends sur les questions culturelles et de société. Les deux « establishments », celui de gauche comme celui de droite, ont coopéré au recentrage du débat politique : la gauche s’est débarrassée de ses projets vraiment socialistes et la droite a accepté l’Etat protecteur et l’essentiel des programmes féministes, homosexuels et multiculturalistes. Un exemple : celui du journaliste vedette, Jonah Goldberg. Ce soi-disant conservateur a pour habitude de célébrer la « révolution féministe et homosexuelle » qu’il considère comme « un accomplissement explicitement conservateur ». Sa thèse bizarre ne repose évidemment sur rien de sérieux… Mais il suffit qu’une cause devienne à la mode parmi les membres du « quatrième pouvoir » pour qu’une pléiade de journalistes néo-conservateurs la présentent immédiatement comme un nouveau triomphe du conservatisme modéré.

9. Vos analyses prennent absolument le contrepied des interprétations néo-conservatrices. Vous rejetez comme une absurdité la filiation despotique entre le réformisme d’Alexandre II et le Goulag de Staline. Vous récusez comme une aberration la thèse qui assimile les gouvernements allemands du XIXème siècle à de simples tyrannies militaires. Vous réprouvez la haine du « relativisme historique » et la phobie de la prétendue « German connection ». Vous contestez l’opinion qui prétend voir dans le christianisme le responsable de l’holocauste juif et de l’esprit nazi. Vous dénoncez l’instrumentalisation de l’antifascisme « outil de contrôle au main des élites politiques ». Vous reprochez aux protestants américains d’avoir pris la tête de la défense de l’idéologie multiculturelle et de la politique culpabilisatrice. Vous affirmez que les chrétiens sont les seuls alliés que les Juifs puissent trouver aujourd’hui. Enfin, comble du « politiquement incorrect », vous estimez que la démocratie présuppose un haut degré d’homogénéité culturelle et sociale. Cela dit, en dernière analyse, vous considérez que le plus grave danger pour la civilisation occidentale est la sécularisation de l’universalisme chrétien et l’avènement de l’Europe et de l’Amérique patchworks. Pourquoi ?

En raison de l’étendue et de la puissance de l’empire américain, les idées qu’il propage, bonnes ou mauvaises, ne peuvent manquer d’avoir une influence significative sur les européens. Oui ! effectivement, je partage le point de vue de Rousseau et de Schmitt selon lequel la souveraineté du peuple n’est possible que lorsque les citoyens sont d’accords sur les questions morales et culturelles importantes. Dans la mesure où l’État managérial et les médias ont réussi à imposer leurs valeurs, on peut dire, qu’en un certain sens, il existe une forme d’homonoia aux États-Unis.

En fait, la nature du nationalisme américain est très étrange. Il est fort proche du jacobinisme qui fit florès lors de la Révolution française. La religion civique américaine, comme sa devancière française, repose sur la religion postchrétienne des droits de l’homme. La droite religieuse américaine est trop stupide pour se rendre compte que cette idéologie des droits de l’homme, ou multiculturaliste, est un parasite de la civilisation chrétienne. L’une remplace l’autre. Le succédané extraie la moelle de la culture la plus ancienne et pourrit sa substance.

Pour en revenir au rapide exposé que vous avez fait de mes analyses, je dirai que je suis globalement d’accord. Mais il n’est pas inutile de préciser pourquoi je considère aussi essentiel, aux États-Unis, le rôle du protestantisme libéral dans la formation de l’idéologie multiculturelle. Le pays est majoritairement protestant et la psychologie du multiculturalisme se retrouve dans le courant dominant du protestantisme américain tout au long de la deuxième moitie du XXème siècle. Bien sûr, d’autres groupes, et en particulier des intellectuels et des journalistes juifs ont contribué à cette transformation culturelle, mais ils n’ont pu le faire que parce que le groupe majoritaire acceptait le changement et trouvait des raisons morales de le soutenir. Nietzsche avait raison de décrire les juifs à demi assimilés comme la classe sacerdotale qui met à profit le sentiment de culpabilité de la nation hôte. Mais cette stratégie ne peut jouer en faveur des Juifs ou de tout autre outsider que lorsque la majorité se vautre dans la culpabilité ou identifie la vertu avec la culpabilité sociale. Je crois, qu’à l’inverse de la manipulation bureaucratique des minorités disparates et du lavage de cerveau des majorités, la vraie démocratie a besoin d’un haut degré d’homogénéité culturelle. Je suis ici les enseignements de Platon, Rousseau, Jefferson ou Schmitt, pour ne citer qu’eux.

10. Parmi les adversaires du néo-conservatisme, à coté des « vieux » conservateurs, souvent stigmatisés comme « paléo-conservateurs », on peut distinguer trois courants : le populisme, le fondamentalisme évangélique et le Tea Party. Pouvez-vous nous dire en quoi ces trois tendances diffèrent du vrai conservatisme ?

Je ne crois pas que l’on puisse trouver du « paléo-conservatisme » dans l’un ou l’autre de ces courants. Les membres du Tea Party et les libertariens sont des post-paléo-conservateurs. Les évangéliques, qui n’ont jamais partagé les convictions des vieux conservateurs, sont devenus les « idiots utiles » des néo-conservateurs, qui contrôlent les medias du GOP (Grand Old Party ou Parti Républicain). Actuellement, les « paléos » ont sombré dans le néant. Ils ne sont plus des acteurs importants du jeu politique. À la différence des libertariens, qui peuvent encore gêner les néo-conservateurs, les « paléos » ont été exclus de la scène politique. Faute de moyens financiers et médiatiques, ils ne peuvent plus critiquer ou remettre en cause sérieusement les doctrines et prétentions néo-conservatrices. Le pouvoir médiatique ne leur permet pas de s’exprimer sur les grandes chaînes de télévision. Ils ont été traités comme des lépreux, des « non-personnes », comme l’on fait les médias britanniques avec le British National Party. Pat Buchanan, qui fut un conseiller de Nixon, de Ford et de Reagan et qui est connu pour sa critique des va-t-en-guerre, a survécu, mais il est interdit d’antenne sur FOX, la plus grand chaîne de TV contrôlée par les néo-conservateurs. Il ne peut paraître que sur MSBNBC, une chaîne de la gauche libérale, où il est habituellement présenté en compagnie de journalistes de gauche.

11. Vous avez été traité d’antisémite pour avoir écrit que les néo-conservateurs sont des vecteurs de l’ultra-sionisme. En quoi vous différenciez-vous du sionisme des néo-conservateurs ?

Les néo-conservateurs sont convaincus que seule leur conception de la sécurité d’Israël doit être défendue inconditionnellement. Il est pourtant tout-à-fait possible d’être du côté des israéliens sans mentir sur leur compte. Que les choses soient claires : il n’y a aucun doute que les deux parties, les israéliens et les palestiniens, se sont mal comportés l’un vis-à-vis de l’autre. Cela dit, c’est une hypocrisie scandaleuse, une tartufferie révoltante, que de refuser à d’autres peuples (disons aux Allemands et aux Français) le droit à leur identité historique et ethnique pour ensuite traiter les Juifs comme un cas particulier, parce qu’ils ont connu des souffrances injustes qui les autoriseraient à conserver leurs caractères distinctifs.

12. Quels livres, revues ou sites web représentatifs du conservatisme américain recommanderiez-vous au public francophone ?

Je recommanderai mon étude la plus récente sur le mouvement conservateur  Conservatism in America  (Palgrave MacMillan, 2009) et le livre que je suis en train de terminer pour Cambridge University Press sur Leo Strauss et le mouvement conservateur en Amérique. Vous trouverez également les points de vue des conservateurs, qui s’opposent aux politiques des néo-conservateurs, sur les sites web : www.americanconservative.com 
www.taking.com [2]

13. Vos amis les néo ou postsocialistes Paul Piccone et Christopher Lasch, estimaient que les différences politiques entre droite et gauche se réduisent désormais à de simples désaccords sur les moyens pour parvenir à des objectifs moraux semblables ? Considérez-vous aussi que la droite et la gauche sont inextricablement mêlées et que les efforts pour les distinguer sont devenus inutiles ?

Je suis tout-à-fait d’accord avec mes deux amis aujourd’hui décédés. Les différences politiques entre droite et gauche se réduisent de nos jours à des désaccords insignifiants entre groupements qui rivalisent pour l’obtention de postes administratifs. En fait, ils ergotent sur des vétilles. Le débat est très encadré ; il a de moins en moins d’intérêt et ne mérite aucune attention. J’avoue que j’ai de plus en plus de mal à comprendre l’acharnement que mettent certains droitistes - censés avoir plus d’intelligence que des coquilles Saint-Jacques - à collaborer aux activités du Parti Républicain et à lui accorder leurs suffrages. Plutôt que d’écouter les mesquineries mensongères d’une classe politique qui ne cesse de faire des courbettes au pouvoir médiatique, je préfère encore assister à un match de boxe.

14. Dans les années 1990, deux universitaires néo-conservateurs ont soulevé de farouches polémiques en Europe : Francis Fukuyama, qui a prophétisé le triomphe universel du modèle démocratique, et Samuel Huntington, qui a soutenu que le choc des civilisations est toujours possible parce que les rapports internationaux ne sont pas régis par des logiques strictement économiques, politiques ou idéologiques mais aussi civilisationnelles. Ce choc des civilisations est-il pour vous une éventualité probable ou un fantasme de paranoïaque?

Je ne vois pas une différence fondamentale entre Fukuyama et Huntington. Les deux sont d’accords sur la nature du Bien : l’idéologie des droits de l’homme, le féminisme, le consumérisme, etc. La principale différence entre ces deux auteurs néo-conservateurs est que Fukuyama (du moins à une certaine époque car ce n’est plus le cas aujourd’hui) était plus optimiste qu’Huntington sur la possibilité de voir leurs valeurs communes triompher dans le monde. Mais les deux n’ont d’autre vision historique de l’Occident que le soutien du consumérisme, les revendications féministes, l’égalitarisme, l’inévitable emballage des préférences américaines urbaines c’est-à-dire le véhicule valorisant du hic et nunc.

Je ne doute pas un instant que si la tendance actuelle se poursuit les non-blancs ou les antichrétiens non-occidentaux finiront par occuper les pays d’Occident. Ils remettront en cause les droits de l’homme, l’idéologie multiculturaliste et la mentalité qui les domine aujourd’hui. Les nations hôtes (qui ne sont d’ailleurs plus des nations) sont de moins en moins capables d’assimiler ce que le romancier Jean Raspail appelle « un déluge d’envahisseurs ». En fait, l’idéologie des droits de l’homme n’impressionne vraiment que les chrétiens égarés, les Juifs et les autres minorités qui ont peur de vivre dans une société chrétienne traditionnelle. Pour ma part, je doute que l’idéologie ou le patriotisme civique de type allemand puisse plaire au sous-prolétariat musulman qui arrive en Europe. Cette idéologie ne risque pas non plus d’avoir la moindre résonance sur les latino-américains illettrés qui se déversent sur les États-Unis. Dans le cas ou les minorités revendicatrices deviendraient un jour le groupe majoritaire, une fois les immigrés parvenus au pouvoir, il y a bien peu de chances pour qu’ils s’obstinent à imposer les mêmes doctrines multiculturelles. En quoi leurs serviraient-elles ?

15. Vous avez anticipé ma dernière question sur les risques que devront affronter l’Europe et l’Amérique au XXIème siècle…

Je voudrais quand même ajouter quelques mots. La dévalorisation systématique du mariage traditionnel, qui reposait hier sur une claire définition du rôle des sexes et sur l’espoir d’une descendance, est la politique la plus folle menée par n’importe quel gouvernement de l’histoire de l’humanité. Je ne sais pas où cette sottise égalitariste nous conduira mais le résultat final ne peut être que catastrophique. Peut être que les musulmans détruiront ce qui reste de civilisation occidentale une fois parvenus pouvoir, mais je doute qu’ils soient aussi stupides que ceux qui ont livré cette guerre à la famille. Si ça ne tenait qu’à moi, je serai ravi de revenir au salaire unique du chef de famille. Et si on me considère pour cela anti-libertarien et anticapitaliste, je suppose que j’accepterai cette étiquette. Je ne suis pas un libertarien de cœur mais un rallié à contrecœur.

Propos recueillis par Arnaud Imatz
31/08/2011

Notes :

[1] Les figures les plus connues du conservatisme américain de l’après-guerre furent M. E. Bradford, James Burnham, Irving Babbitt, le premier William Buckley (jusqu’à la fin des années 1960), Will Herberg, Russell Kirk, Gerhart Niemeyer, Robert Nisbet, Forrest McDonald et Frank Meyer. Celles du néo-conservatisme sont Daniel Bell, Allan Bloom, Irving Kristol, S. M. Lipset, Perle, Podhoretz, Wattenberg ou Wolfowitz (N.d.A.I.).
[2] Dans son livre Conservatism in America, Paul Gottfried recommande trois autres sources qui peuvent aussi être consultées avec profit : l’enquête de George H. Nash, The Conservative Intellectual Movement in America Since 1945 (2ème éd., Wilmington, DE : ISI, 1996), l’anthologie de textes de Gregory L. Schneider, Conservatism in America Since 1930 (New York, New York University Press, 2003) et l’encyclopédie publiée par l’Intercollegiate Studies Institute, American Conservatism : An Encyclopedia (ISI, 2006), (N.d.A.I.).

Correspondance Polémia - 5/08/2011

Mircea Eliade: Liberty

Liberty

By Mircea Eliade

"Iconar", March 5, 1937

There is an aspect of the Legionary Movement that has not been sufficiently explored: the individual’s liberty. Being primarily a spiritual movement concerned with the creation of a New Man and the salvation of our people – the Legion can’t grow and couldn’t have matured without treasuring the individual’s liberty; the liberty that so many books were written about with which so many libraries were stacked full, in defense of which many
democratic speeches have been held, without it being truly lived and treasured.
The people that speak of liberty and declare themselves willing to die for it are those who believe in materialist dogmas, in fatalities: social classes, class war, the primacy of the economy, etc. It is strange, to say the least, to hear a person who doesn’t believe in God stand up for “liberty,” who doesn’t believe in the primacy of the spirit or the afterlife.
Such a person, when they speak in good faith, mix “liberty” up with libertarianism and anarchy. Liberty can only be spoken of in spiritual life. Those who deny the spirit its primacy automatically fall to mechanical determinism (Marxism) and irresponsibility.

People bind themselves together according to either hedonism or a familiar economic destiny. I’m a comrade of X because he happens to be my relative, or a colleague at work, and thus comrades of pay. Connections between people are almost always involuntary, they are a natural given. I cannot modify my familiar destiny. And with respect to economic destiny, regardless of how much effort I employ, I could at most change my comrades of pay – but I will always unwillingly find myself in a solidarity with certain people I don’t know to which I’m tied by the chance of me being poor or rich.

There are, however, spiritual movements wherein people are tied by liberty. People are free to join this spiritual family. No exterior determination forces them to become brothers. Back in the day when it was expanding and converting, Christianity was a spiritual movement that people joined out of the common desire to spiritualize their lives and overcome death. No one forced a pagan to become a Christian. On the contrary, the state on the one hand, and its instincts of conservation on the other, restlessly raised obstacles to Christian conversion.

But even faced with such obstacles, the thirst of being free, of forging your own destiny, of defeating biological and economic determinations was much too strong. People joined Christianity, knowing that they would become poor overnight, that they would leave their still pagan families behind, that they could be imprisoned for life, or even face the cruelest death—the death of a martyr.

Being a profoundly Christian movement, justifying its doctrine on the spiritual level above all – legionarism encourages and is built upon liberty. You adhere to legionarism because you are free, because you decided to overcome the iron circles of biological determinism (fear of death, suffering, etc.) and economic determinism (fear of becoming homeless). The first gesture a legionnaire will display is one born out of total liberty: he dares to free himself of spiritual, biological and economic enslavement. No exterior determinism can influence him. The moment he decides to be free is the moment all fears and inferiority complexes instantaneously disappear. He who enters the Legion forever dons the shirt of death. That means that the legionnaire feels so free that death itself no longer frightens him. If the Legionnaire nurtures the spirit of sacrifice with such passion, and if he has proven to be capable of making sacrifices – culminating in the deaths of Mota and Marin – these bear witness to the unlimited liberty a legionnaire has gained.
 

“He who knows how to die will never be a slave.” And this doesn’t concern only ethnic or political enslavement – but firstly, spiritual enslavement. If you are ready to die, no fear, weakness, shyness can enslave you. Making peace with death is the most total liberty man can receive on this Earth.

http://www.archive.org/details/Liberty_7

Protestantism, Capitalism, & Americanism

Protestantism, Capitalism, & Americanism

By Edouard RIX

Translated by M. P.

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

Many authors distinguish between, on the one hand Catholicism, which is supposed to be a negative Christianity incarnated by Rome and an anti-Germanic instrument, and, on the other hand, Protestantism, which is supposed to be a positive Christianity emancipated from the Roman papacy and accepting traditional Germanic values. In this perspective, Martin Luther is a liberator of the German soul from the despotic and Mediterranean yoke of papal Rome, his grand success being the Germanization of Christianity. The Protestants thus include themselves in the line of the Cathars and the Vaudois as representatives of the Germanic spirit in rupture with Rome.

But in reality, Luther is the one who first fomented the individualist and anti-hierarchical revolt in Europe, which would find expression on the religious plane by the rejection of the “traditional” content of Catholicism, on the political plane by the emancipation of the German princes from the emperor, and on the plane of the sacred by the negation of the principle of authority and hierarchy, giving a religious justification to the development of the merchant mentality.

On the religious plane, the theologians of the Reformation worked for a return to sources, to the Christianity of the Scriptures, without addition and without corruption, that is to say, to the texts of the Oriental tradition. If Luther rebelled against “the papacy instituted by the Devil in Rome,” it is only because he rejected the positive aspect of Rome, the traditional, hierarchical, and ritual component subsisting in Catholicism, the Church marked by Roman law and order, by Greek thought and philosophy, in particular that of Aristotle. Moreover, his words denouncing Rome as “Regnum Babylonis,” as an obstinately pagan city, recall those employed by the Hebraic Book of Revelation and the first Christians against the imperial city.

The balance sheet is as completely negative on the political plane. Luther, who presented himself as “a prophet of the German people,” favored the revolt of the Germanic princes against the universal principle of the Empire, and consequently their emancipation from any supranational hierarchical link. In effect, by his doctrine that admitted the right of resistance to a tyrannical emperor, he would legitimize rebellion against imperial authority in the name of the Gospel. Instead of taking up again the heritage of Frederick II, who had affirmed the superior idea of the Sacrum Imperium, the German princes, in supporting the Reformation, passed into the anti-imperial camp, desiring nothing more than to be “free” sovereigns.

Similarly, the Reformation is characterized on the plane of the sacred by the negation of the principle of authority and hierarchy, the Protestant theologians accepting no spiritual power superior to that of the Scriptures. Effectively, no Church or any Pontifex having received from the Christ the privilege of infallibility in matters of sacred doctrine, every Christian is able to judge for himself, by individual free examination, apart from any spiritual authority and any dogmatic tradition, the Word of God.

Besides individualism, this Protestant theory of free examination is connected with another aspect of modernity, rationalism, the individual who has rejected any control and any tradition basing himself on what, for him, is the basis of all judgment, reason, which then becomes the measure of all truth. This rationalism, much more virulent than that which existed in ancient Greece and in the Middle Ages, would give birth to the philosophy of the Enlightenment.

Beginning from the sixteenth century, Protestant doctrine would furnish an ethical and religious justification to the rise of the bourgeoisie in Europe, as the sociologist Max Weber demonstrates in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, a study on the origins of capitalism. According to him, during the initial stages of capitalist development, the tendency to maximize profit is the result of a tendency, historically unique, to accumulation far beyond personal consumption.

Weber finds the origin of this behavior in the “asceticism” of the Protestants marked by two imperatives, methodical work as the principal task in life and the limited enjoyment of its fruits. The unintentional consequence of this ethic, which had been imposed upon believers by social and psychological pressures to prove one’s salvation, was the accumulation of wealth for investment. He also shows that capitalism is nothing but an expression of modern Western rationalism, a phenomenon closely linked to the Reformation. Similarly, the economist Werner Sombart would denounce the Anglo-Saxon Handlermentalitat (merchant mentality), conferring a significant role to Catholicism as a barrier against the advance of the merchant spirit in Western Europe.

Liberated from any metaphysical principle, dogmas, symbols, rites, and sacraments, Protestantism would end by detaching itself from all transcendence and leading to a secularization of any superior aspiration, to moralism, and to Puritanism. It is thus that in Anglo-Saxon Puritan countries, particularly in America, the religious idea came to sanctify any temporal realization, material success, and wealth, prosperity itself being considered as a sign of divine election.

In his work, Les États-Unis aujourd’hui, published in 1928, André Siegfried, after having emphasized that “the only true American religion is Calvinism,” had already written: “It becomes difficult to distinguish between religious aspiration and pursuit of wealth . . . One thus admits as moral and desirable that the religious spirit becomes a factor of social progress and of economic development.” North America features, according to the formula of Robert Steuckers, “the alliance of the Engineer and the Preacher,” that is to say, the alliance of Prometheus and of Jean Calvin, or of the technics taken from Europe and of Puritan messianism issued from Judeo-Christian monotheism.

Transposing the universalistic project of Christianity into profane and materialistic terms, America aims to suppress frontiers, cultures, and differences in order to transform the living peoples of the Earth into identical societies, governed by the new Holy Trinity of free enterprise, global free trade, and liberal democracy. Undeniably, Martin Luther and, even more so, Jean Calvin, are the spiritual fathers of Uncle Sam . . .

As for us, we young Europeans viscerally reject this individualist, rationalist, and materialist West, the heir of the Reformation, the pseudo-Renaissance, and the French Revolution, as so many manifestations of European decadence. We will always prefer Faust to Prometheus, the Warrior to the Preacher, Nietzsche and Evola to Luther and Calvin.

Source: http://www.voxnr.com/cc/di_antiamerique/EpVAkuZFllAtfQNhcl.shtml ^[3]

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

URL to article: http://www.counter-currents.com/2011/09/protestantism-capitalism-and-americanism/

La critica a "la cosa en si"

La crítica a “la cosa en sí”

(Schopenhauer-Brentano-Scheler)

 

Alberto Buela (*)

 

La aparición de Kant (1724-1804) en la historia de la filosofía ha sido caracterizada, no sin razón, como la revolución copernicana de la disciplina. Y así como con Copérnico el sol se transformó en centro del universo desplazando a la tierra, así con Kant la filosofía en el problema del conocimiento dejó de considerar al sujeto un ente pasivo para otorgarle actividad. El mundo dejo de ser el mundo para ser “mi mundo”. El mundo es la representación que el sujeto tiene de él.

Pero Kant fue más allá y concibió a los entes siendo fenómenos para la gnoseología y noúmenos para la metafísica. Es decir, los entes nos ofrecen lo que podemos conocer pero además poseen un “en sí” ignoto. Y acá Kant comete el más grande y profundo error que produce la metafísica moderna: afirmar que existe “la cosa en sí”.

Ya Fichte(1762-1814), en vida de Kant y entrevistándose con él le dijo: ¿cómo puedo sostener, sin contradicción, la existencia de “la cosa en sí”, si al mismo tiempo no puedo conocerla?. Kant lo despachó con cajas destempladas.

Luego vino Schopenhauer (1788-1860) y demostró que la cosa en sí es la voluntad y el mundo no es otra cosa que voluntad y representación. La representación que nos hacemos de los fenómenos y la voluntad que es su fundamento. En forma inteligente y profunda, el solitario de Danzig,  no fue contra todo Kant sino contra la parte espuria y errónea de su filosofía.

Se produce en el ínterin una especie de suspensión del pensamiento filosófico clásico con la aparición, cada uno en su estilo, de Feuerbach(1804-1872), A.Ruge(1802-1880), Marx(1818-1883), Stirner(1806-1856), Bauer(1809-1882), Kierkegaard (1813-1855), Nietzsche (1844-1900) donde el tema principal de la metafísica, “la cosa en sí o el ente en tanto ente” , es dejado de lado.

Pero resulta que hay un filósofo en el medio. Ignorado, silenciado, postergado, no comprendido.  El hombre más inteligente, profundo y cautivador de su tiempo, Franz Brentano (1838-1917), que se da cuenta y entonces va a afirmar que el ser último de la conciencia es “ser intencional” y que dicha intencionalidad nos revela que el objeto no tiene una existencia en una zona allende, en una realidad independiente, sino que existe en tanto que hay acto psíquico como correlato de éste. De modo que el objeto es concebido como fenómeno, pero el ente es una realidad sustancial que está allí y que tiene existencia independiente del sujeto cognoscente. Es lo evidente, y lo evidente no necesita prueba, pues todo lo que es, es y lo que no es, no es.

Muchos años después, Heidegger (1889-1976) en carta el P. Richardson  le cuenta que se inició en filosofía leyendo a Brentano y que su Aristóteles sigue siendo el de Brentano. Y que, “lo que yo esperaba de Husserl era las respuestas a las preguntas suscitadas por Brentano”.

Finalmente Max Scheler (1874-1928), discípulo de E. Husserl que lo fue, a su vez, de Brentano, es el que ofrece una respuesta total y definitiva al falso problema planteado por Kant cuando en uno de sus últimos trabajos afirma: “Ser real es mas bien, ser resistencia frente a la espontaneidad originaria, que es una y la misma en todas las especies del querer y del atender”. La cosa en sí no existe como tal sino que es el impulso de resistencia que el ente nos ofrece cuando actuamos sobre él.

Curiosamente en Heidegger, donde uno esperaría encontrar una crítica furibunda a la cosa en sí, no sólo no se encuentra sino que en el texto emblemático sobre el asunto, Kant y el problema de la metafísica, que para mayor curiosidad dedica a Max Scheler, aparece una aceptación explícita cuando hablando del objeto trascendental igual X afirma: “X es un “algo”, sobre el cual, en general, nada podemos saber…”ni siquiera” puede convertirse en objeto posible de un saber” [1]. ¿No se aplica acá, la objeción de Fichte a Kant?. ¿Será por esto que en las conversaciones de Davos, en torno a Kant, Ernst Cassirer afirmó: “Heidegger es un neokantiano como jamás lo hubiera imaginado de él”.

 

                         I- Schopenhauer: el primer golpe a la Ilustración

 

 

En Arturo Schopenhauer (1788-1860) toda su filosofía se apoya en Kant y forma parte del idealismo alemán pero lo novedoso es que sostiene dos rasgos existenciales antitéticos con ellos: es un pesimista  y no es un profesor a sueldo del Estado. Esto último deslumbró a Nietzsche.

Hijo de un gran comerciante de Danzig, su posición acomodada lo liberó de las dos servidumbres de su época para los filósofos: la teología protestante o la docencia privada. Se educó a través de sus largas estadías en Inglaterra, Francia e Italia (Venecia). Su apetito sensual, grado sumo, luchó siempre la serena  reflexión filosófica. Su soltería y misoginia nos recuerda el tango: en mi vida tuve muchas minas pero nunca una mujer. En una palabra, conoció la hembra pero no a la mujer.

Ingresa en la Universidad de Gotinga donde estudia medicina, luego frecuenta a Goethe, sigue cursos en Berlín con Fichte y se doctora en Jena con una tesis sobre La cuádruple raíz del principio de razón suficiente en 1813.

En 1819 publica su principal obra El mundo como voluntad y representación y toda su producción posterior no va a ser sino un comentario aumentado y corregido de ella. Nunca se retractó de nada ni nunca cambió. Obras como La voluntad en la naturaleza (1836),  Libertad de la voluntad (1838), Los dos problemas fundamentales de la ética (1841) son simples escolios a su única obra principal.

Sobre él ha afirmado el genial Castellani: “Schopen es malo, pero simpático. No fue católico por mera casualidad. Y fue lástima porque tenía ala calderoniana y graciana, a quienes tradujo. Pero fue  “antiprotestante” al máximo, como Nietzsche, lo cual en nuestra opinión no es poco…Tuvo dos fallas: fue el primer filósofo existencial sin ser teólogo y quiso reducir a la filosofía aquello que pertenece a la teología” [2]

En 1844 reedita su trabajo cumbre, aunque no se habían vendido aun los ejemplares de su primera edición, llevando los agregados al doble la edición original.

Nueve años antes de su muerte publica dos tomos pequeños Parerga y Parilepómena, ensayos de acceso popular donde trata de los más diversos temas, que tienen muy poco que ver con su obra principal, pero que le dan una cierta popularidad al ser los más leídos de sus libros. Al final de sus días Schopenhauer gozó del reconocimiento que tanto buscó y que le fue esquivo.

Schopenhauer siguió los cursos de Fichte en Berlín varios años y como “el fanfarrón”, así lo llama, parte y depende también de Kant.

Así, ambos reconocen que el mérito inmortal de la crítica kantiana de la razón es haber establecido, de una vez y para siempre, que los entes, el mundo de las cosas que percibimos por los sentidos y reproducimos en el espíritu, no es el mundo en sí sino nuestro mundo, un producto de nuestra organización psicofísica.

La clara distinción en Kant entre sensibilidad y entendimiento pero donde el entendimiento no puede separarse realmente de los sentidos y refiere a una causa exterior la sensación que aparece bajo las formas de espacio y tiempo, viene a explicar a los entes, las cosas como fenómenos pero no como “cosas en sí”.

Muy acertadamente observa Silvio Maresca que: “Ante sus ojos- los de Schopenhauer- el romanticismo filosófico y el idealismo (Fichte-Hegel) que sucedieron casi enseguida a la filosofía kantiana, constituían una tergiversación de ésta. ¿Por qué? Porque abolían lo que según él era el principio fundamental: la distinción entre los fenómenos y la cosa en sí”.[3]

Fichte a través de su Teoría de la ciencia va a sostener que el no-yo (los entes exteriores) surgen en el yo legalmente pero sin fundamento. No existe una tal cosa en sí. El mundo sensible es una realidad empírica que está de pie ahí. La ciencia de la naturaleza es necesariamente materialista. Schopenhauer es materialista, pero va a afirmar: Toda la imagen materialista del mundo, es solo representación, no “cosa en sí”. Rechaza la tesis que todo el mundo fenoménico sea calificado como un producto de la actividad inconciente del yo. ¿Que es este mundo además de mi representación?, se pregunta. Y responde que se debe partir del hombre que es lo dado y de lo más íntimo de él, y eso debe ser a su vez lo más íntimo del mundo y esto es la voluntad. Se produce así en Schopenhauer un primado de lo práctico sobre lo teórico.

La voluntad es, hablando en kantiano “la cosa en sí” ese afán infinito que nunca termina de satisfacerse, es “el vivir” que va siempre al encuentro de nuevos problemas. Es infatigable e inextinguible.

La voluntad no es para el pesimista de Danzig la facultad de decidir regida por la razón como se la entiende regularmente sino sólo el afán, el impulso irracional que comparten hombre y mundo. “Toda fuerza natural es concebida per analogiam con aquello que en nosotros mismos conocemos como voluntad”.

Esa voluntad irracional para la que el mundo y las cosas son solo un fenómeno no tiene ningún objetivo perdurable sino sólo aparente (por trabajar sobre fenómenos) y entonces todo objetivo logrado despierta nuevas necesidades (toda satisfacción tiene como presupuesto el disgusto de una insatisfacción) donde el no tener ya nada que desear preanuncia la muerte o la liberación.

Porque el más sabio es el que se percata que la existencia es una sucesión de sin sabores que no conduce a nada y se desprende del mundo. No espera la redención del progreso y solo practica la no-voluntad.

El pesimista de Danzig al identificar la voluntad irracional con la “cosa en sí” puede afirmar sin temor que “lo real es irracional y lo irracional es lo real” con lo que termina invirtiendo la máxima hegeliana “todo lo racional es real y todo lo real es racional”. Es el primero del los golpes mortales que se le aplicará  al racionalismo iluminista, luego vendrá Nietzsche y más tarde Scheler y Heidegger. Pero eso ya es historia conocida. Salute.

 

Post Scriptum: 

Schopenhauer en sus últimos años- que además de hablar correctamente en italiano, francés e inglés, hablaba, aunque con alguna dificultad, en castellano. La hispanofilia de Schopenhauer se reconoce en toda su obra pues cada vez que cita, sobre todo a Baltasar Gracián (1601-1658), lo hace en castellano. Aprendió el español para traducir el opúsculo Oráculo manual (1647). También cita a menudo El Criticón a la que considera “incomparable”. Existe actualmente en Alemania y desde hace unos quince años una revista de pensamiento no conformista denominada “Criticón”. También cita y traduce a Calderón de la Barca.

Miguel de Unamuno fue el primero que realizó algunas traducciones parciales del filósofo de Danzig, como corto pago para una deuda hispánica con él. En Argentina ejerció influencia sobre Macedonio Fernández y sobre su discípulo Jorge Luis Borges. Tengo conocimiento de dos buenos artículos sobre Schopenhauer en nuestro país: el del cura Castellani (Revista de la Universidad de Buenos Aires, cuarta época, Nº 16, 1950) y el mencionado de Maresca.

El último aporte hispano a Schopenhauer es la traducción de los Sinilia, los pensamientos de vejez (1852-1860) con introducción, traducción y notas de Juan Mateu Alonso, en Contrastes, Universidad de Málaga, enero-febrero, 2009.

 

              II- Brentano, el eslabón perdido de la filosofía contemporánea

                                                                                                                   

                                                                                                                    

Su vida y sus influencias [4]

 

Franz Clemens Brentano (1838-1917) es el filósofo alemán de ancestros italianos de la zona de Cuomo, que introduce la noción de intencionalidad en la filosofía contemporánea. Noción que deriva del concepto escolástico de “cogitativa” trabajado tanto por Tomás de Aquino como por Duns Escoto en la baja edad media. Lectores que, junto con Aristóteles, conocía Brentano casi a la perfección y que leía fluidamente en sus lenguas originales.

Se lo considera tanto el precursor de la fenomenología (sus trabajos sobre la intencionalidad de la conciencia)  como de las corrientes analíticas (sus trabajos sobre el lenguaje y los juicios), de la psicología profunda (sus trabajos sobre psicología experimental)  como de la axiología (sus trabajos sobre el juicio de preferencia).

Nació y se crió en el seno de una familia ilustre marcada por el romanticismo social. Su tío el poeta Clemens Maria Brentano(1778-1842) y su tía Bettina von Arnim(1785-1859) se encontraban entre los más importantes escritores del romanticismo alemán y su hermano,  Lujo Brentano, se convirtió en un experto en economía social. De su madre recibió una profunda fe y formación católicas. Estudió matemática, filosofía y teología en las universidades de Múnich, Würzburg, Berlín, y Münster. Siguió los cursos sobre Aristóteles de F. Trendelemburg Tras doctorarse con un estudio sobre Aristóteles en 1862,Sobre los múltiples sentidos del ente en Aristóteles, se ordenó sacerdote católico de la orden dominica en 1864. Dos años más tarde presentó en la Universidad de Würzburg, al norte de Baviera, su escrito de habilitación como catedrático, La psicología de Aristóteles, en especial su doctrina acerca del “nous poietikos”. En los años siguientes dedicó su atención a otras corrientes de filosofía, e iba creciendo su preocupación por la situación de la filosofía de aquella época en Alemania: un escenario en el que se contraponían el empirismo positivista y el neokantismo. En ese periodo estudió con profundidad a John Stuart Mill y publicó un libro sobre Auguste Comte y la filosofía positiva. La Universidad de Würzburg le nombró profesor extraordinario en 1872.

Sin embargo, en su interior se iban planteando problemas de otro género. Se cuestionaba algunos dogmas de la Iglesia católica, sobre todo el dogma de la Santísima Trinidad. Y después de que el Concilio Vaticano I de 1870 proclamara el dogma de la infalibilidad papal, Brentano decidió en 1873 abandonar su sacerdocio. Sin embargo, para no perjudicar más a los católicos alemanes —ya de suyo hostigados hasta  llegar a huir en masa al Volga ruso por la “Kulturkampf” de Bismarck [5]— renunció voluntariamente a su puesto de Würzburg, pero al mismo tiempo, se negó a unirse a los cismáticos “viejos católicos”. Pero sin embargo este alejamiento existencial de la Iglesia no supuso un alejamiento del pensamiento profundo de la Iglesia pues en varios de sus trabajos y en forma reiterada afirmó siempre que: «Hay una ciencia que nos instruye acerca del fundamento primero y último de todas las cosas, en tanto que nos lo permite reconocer en la divinidad. De muchas maneras, el mundo entero resulta iluminado y ensanchado a la mirada por esta verdad, y recibimos a través de ella las revelaciones más esenciales sobre nuestra propia esencia y destino. Por eso, este saber es en sí mismo, sobre todos los demás, valioso. (…) Llamamos a esta ciencia Sabiduría, Filosofía primera, Teología» (Cfr.: Religion und Philosophie, pp.72-73. citado por Sánchez-Migallón).

Se desempeñó luego como profesor en Viena durante veinte años (entre 1874 y 1894), con algunas interrupciones. Franz Brentano fue amigo de los espíritus más finos de la Viena de esos años, entre ellos Theodor Meynert, Josef Breuer, Theodor Gomperz (1832-1912). En 1880 se casó con Ida von Lieben, la hermana de Anna von Lieben, la futura paciente de Sigmund Freud. Indiferente a la comida y la vestimenta, jugaba al ajedrez con una pasión devoradora, y ponía de manifiesto un talento inaudito para los juegos de palabras más refinados, En 1879, con el seudónimo de Aenigmatis, publicó una compilación de adivinanzas que suscitó entusiasmo en los salones vieneses y dio lugar a numerosas imitaciones. Esto lo cuenta Freud en un libro suyo El chiste.

En la Universidad de Viena tuvo como alumnos a Sigmund Freud, Carl Stumpf y Edmund Husserl, Christian von Ehrenfels, introductor del término Gestalt (totalidad), y, discrepa y rechaza la idea del inconsciente descrita y utilizada por Freud. Fue un profesor carismático, Brentano ejerció una fuerte influencia en la obra de Edmund Husserl, Alois Meinong (1853-1921), fundador de la teoría del objeto,  Thomas Masaryk (1859-1937) KasimirTwardowski, de la escuela polaca de lógica y Marty Antón, entre otros, y por lo tanto juega un papel central en el desarrollo filosófico de la Europa central en principios del siglo XX. En 1873, el joven Sigmund Freud, estudiante en la Universidad de Viena, obtuvo su doctorado en filosofía bajo la dirección de Brentano.

El impulso de Brentano a la psicología cognitiva es consecuencia de su realismo. Su concepción de describir la conciencia en lugar de analizarla, dividiéndola en partes, como se hacía en su época, dio lugar a la fenomenología, que continuarían desarrollando Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), Max Scheler (1874-1928), Martín Heidegger (1889-1976), Maurice Merleau-Ponty (1908-1961), además de influenciar sobre el existencialismo de Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980) con su negación del inconsciente.

En 1895, después de la muerte de su esposa, dejó Austria decepcionado, en esta ocasión, publicó una serie de tres artículos en el periódico vienés Die Neue Freie Presse : Mis últimos votos por Austria, en la que destaca su posición filosófica, así como su enfoque de la psicología, pero también criticó duramente  la situación jurídica de los antiguos sacerdotes en Austria. In 1896 he settled down in Florence where he got married to Emilie Ruprecht in 1897. En 1896 se instaló en Florencia, donde se casó con Emilie Ruprecht en 1897. Vivió en Florencia casi ciego y, a causa de la primera guerra mundial, cuando Italia entra en guerra contra Alemania, se traslada a Zurich, donde muere en 1917.

Los trabajos que publicaron sus discípulos han sido los siguientes según el orden de su aparición: La doctrina de Jesús y su significación permanente; Psicología como ciencia empírica, Vol. III; Ensayos sobre el conocimiento, Sobre la existencia de Dios; Verdad y evidencia; Doctrina de las categorías, Fundamentación y construcción de la ética; Religión y filosofía, Doctrina del juicio correcto; Elementos de estética; Historia de la filosofía griega; La recusación de lo irreal; Investigaciones filosóficas acerca del espacio, del tiempo y el continuo; La doctrina de Aristóteles acerca del origen del espíritu humano; Historia de la filosofía medieval en el Occidente cristiano; Psicología descriptiva; Historia de la filosofía moderna, Sobre Aristóteles; Sobre “Conocimiento y error” de Ernst March.

 

Lineamientos de su pensamiento

 

Todo el mundo sabe, al menos el de la filosofía, que no se puede realizar tal actividad sino es en diálogo con algún clásico. Es que los clásicos son tales porque tienen respuestas para el presente.  Hay que tomar un maestro y a partir de él comenzar a filosofar. Brentano lo tuvo a Aristóteles, el que le había enseñado Federico Trendelenburg (1802-1872), el gran estudioso del Estagirita en la primera mitad de siglo XIX.

En su tesis doctoral, Sobre los múltiples significados del ente según Aristóteles, que tanto influenciara en Heidegger, distingue cuatro sentidos de “ente” en el Estagirita: el ente como ens per accidens o lo fortuito; el ente en el sentido de lo verdadero, con su correlato, lo no-ente en el sentido de lo falso; el ente en potencia y el ente en acto; y el ente que se distribuye según la sustancia y las figuras de las categorías. De esos cuatro significados, el veritativo abrirá en Brentano el estudio de la intencionalidad. Pero al que dedica con diferencia mayor extensión es al cuarto, el estudio de la sustancia y su modificación, esto es, a las diversas categorías. Esto se debe, en parte, a las discusiones de su tiempo en torno a la metafísica aristotélica. En ellas toma postura defendiendo principalmente dos tesis: primera, que entre los diferentes sentidos categoriales del ente se da una unidad de analogía, y que ésta significa unidad de referencia a un término común, la sustancia segunda, que precisamente esa unidad de referencia posibilita en el griego deducir las categorías según un principio.[6]

Investigó las cuestiones metafísicas mediante un análisis lógico-lingüístico, con lo que se distinguió tanto de los empiristas ingleses como del kantismo académico. Ejerciendo una gran influencia sobre algunos miembros del Círculo de Viena.

En 1874 publica su principal obra Psicología como ciencia empírica, de la que editará tres volúmenes, donde realiza su principal aporte a la historia de la filosofía, su concepto de intencionalidad de la conciencia que tendrá capital importancia para el desarrollo posterior de la fenomenología a través de Husserl y de Scheler.

Sólo lo psíquico es intencional, esto es, pone en relación la conciencia con un objeto. Esta llamada «tesis de Brentano», que hace de la intencionalidad la característica de lo psíquico, permite entender de un modo positivo, a diferencia de lo que no lograba la psicología de aquella época, los fenómenos de conciencia que Brentano distingue entre representaciones, juicios teóricos y  juicios prácticos o emotivos (sentimientos y voliciones).
Todo fenómeno de conciencia es o una representación de algo, que no forzosamente ha de ser un objeto exterior, o un juicio acerca de algo. Los juicios o son teóricos, y se refieren a la verdad y falsedad de las representaciones (juicios propiamente dichos), y su criterio es la evidencia y de ellos trata la epistemología y la lógica; o son prácticos, y se refieren a la bondad o a la maldad, la corrección o incorrección, al amor y al odio (fenómenos emotivos), y su criterio es la «preferencia», la valoración, o «lo mejor», y de ellos trata la ética. Al estudio de la intencionalidad de la conciencia lo llama psicología descriptiva o fenomenología.

En 1889 dicta su conferencia en Sociedad Jurídica de Viena “De la sanción natural de lo justo y lo moral” que aparece publicada luego con notas que duplican su extensión bajo el título de: El origen del conocimiento moral”, trabajo que publicado en castellano en 1927, del que dice Ortega y Gasset, director de la revista de Occidente que lo publica, “Este tratadito, de la más auténtica filosofía, constituye una de las joyas filosóficas que, como “El discurso del método” o la “Monadología”… Puede decirse que es la base donde se asienta la ética moderna de los valores”.

Comienza preguntándose por la sanción natural de lo justo y lo moral. Y hace corresponder lo bueno con lo verdadero y a la ética con la lógica. Así, lo verdadero se admite como verdadero en un juicio, mientras que lo bueno en un acto de amor. El criterio exclusivo de la verdad del juicio es cuando, éste, se presenta como evidente. Pero, paradójicamente, lo evidente, va a sostener siguiendo a Descartes, es el conocimiento sin juicio.

Lo bueno es el objeto y mi referencia puede ser errónea, de modo que mi actitud ante las cosas recibe la sanción de las cosas y no de mí. Lo bueno es algo intrínseco a los objetos amados.

Que yo tenga amor u odio a una cosa no prueba sin más que sea buena o mala. Es necesario que ese amor u odio sean justos. El amor puede ser justo o injusto, adecuado o inadecuado. La actitud adecuada ante una cosa buena es amarla y ante una cosa mala, el odiarla. “Decimos que algo es bueno cuando el modo de referencia que consiste en amarlo es el justo. Lo que sea amable con amor justo, lo digno de ser amado, es lo bueno en el más amplio sentido de la palabra»”.

La ética encuentra su fundamento, según Brentano, en los actos fundados de amor y odio. Y actos fundados quiere decir, que el objeto de ser amado u odiado es digno de ser amado u odiado. El “ajuste” entre el acto de amor u odio al objeto mismo en ética, es análogo, según Brentano, a la “adecuación” que se da en el juicio verdadero entre predicado y objeto.

La diferencia que existe entre uno y otro juicio (el predicamental y el práctico) es que en el práctico puede darse un antítesis (amar un objeto y , pasado el tiempo, odiarlo) mientras que en el lógico o de  representación, no.

Dos meses después el 27 de marzo de 1889 dicta su conferencia Sobre el concepto de verdad, ahora en la Sociedad filosófica de Viena. Esta conferencia es fundamental por varios motivos: a) muestra el carácter polémico de Brentano, tanto con el historiador de la filosofía Windelbang (1848-1915) por tergiversar a Kant,  como a Kant, “cuya filosofía es un error, que ha conducido a errores mayores y, finalmente, a un caos filosófico completo” (cómo no lo van a silenciar luego, en las universidades alemanas, al viejo Francisco). b) Nos da su opinión sin tapujos sobre Aristóteles diciendo: “Es el espíritu científico más poderoso que jamás haya tenido influencia sobre los destinos de la humanidad”. c) Muestra y demuestra que el concepto de verdad en Aristóteles “adecuación del intelecto y la cosa” ha sido adoptada tanto por Descartes como por Kant hasta llegar a él mismo. Pero que dicho concepto encierra un grave error y allí él va a proponer su teoría del juicio.

Diferencia entre juicios negativos y juicios afirmativos. Así en los juicios negativos como: “no hay dragones”, no hay concordancia entre mi juicio y la cosa porque la cosa no existe. Mientras que sólo en los juicios afirmativos, cuando hay concordancia son verdaderos.

“el ámbito en que es adecuado el juicio afirmativo es el de la existencia y el del juicio negativo, el de lo no existente”. Por lo tanto “un juicio es verdadero cuando afirma de algo que es, que es; y de algo que no es, niega que sea”.

En los juicios negativos la representación no tiene contenido real, mientras que la verdad de los juicios está condicionada por el existir o ser del la cosa (Sein des Dinges). Así, el ser de la cosa, la existencia es la que funda la verdad del juicio. El “ser del árbol” es lo que hace verdadero al juicio: “el árbol es”.

Y así lo afirma una y otra vez: “un juicio es verdadero cuando juzga apropiadamente un objeto, por consiguiente, cuando si es, se dice que es; y sino es, se dice que no es”.(in fine).

Y desengañado termina afirmando que: “Han transcurrido dos mil años desde que Aristóteles investigó los múltiples sentidos del ente, y es triste, pero cierto, que la mayoría no hayan sabido extraer ningún fruto de sus investigaciones”.

Su propuesta es, entonces, discriminar claramente en el juicio “el ser de la cosa” que  equivalente a ”la existencia”,  de “la cosa” también denominada por Brentano ”lo real”. Existir o existencia,  y ser real o realidad es la dupla de pares que expresan el “ser verdadero” y el “ser sustancial” respectivamente, que él se ocupó de estudiar en su primer trabajo sobre el ente en Aristóteles.

Conviene repetirlo, existir, existencia y ser verdadero vienen a expresar lo mismo: la mostración del ente al pensar. Y la cosa, lo real, el ser sustancial expresan lo mismo: el ente en sí mismo. Vemos como Brentano, liquida definitivamente “la cosa en sí” kantiana.

Aun cuando claramente Brentano muestra como “el objeto no tiene un existencia en la realidad independiente, o más allá del sujeto, sino que existe en tanto que hay un acto psíquico”, y este es el gran aporte a la psicología de Brentano.

Metafísicamente, todo lo que es, es. Y se nos dice también en el sentido de lo verdadero. En una palabra el ser de la cosa se convierte con la verdadero, sin buscarlo Brentano retorna al viejo ens et verum convertuntur de la teoría de los transcendentales del ente.

Y así da sus dos últimos y más profundos consejos:  “Por último, no estaremos tentados nunca de confundir, como ha ocurrido cada vez más, el concepto de lo real y el de lo existente”. Y “podríamos extraer de nuestra investigación otra lección y grabarla en nuestras mentes para siempre…el medio definitivo y eficaz (para realizar un juicio verdadero) consiste siempre en una referencia a la intuición de lo individual de la que se derivan todos nuestros criterios generales”.

No podemos no recordar acá, por la coincidencia de los conceptos y consejos, aquella que nos dejara el primer metafísico argentino, Nimio de Anquín (1896-1979),: “Ir siembre a la búsqueda del ser singular en su discontinuidad fantasmagórica. Ir al encuentro con las cosas en su individuación y  potencial universalidad”.[7]

Franz Brentano es el verdadero fundador de la metafísica realista contemporánea que luego continuarán, con sus respectivas variantes,  Husserl, Scheler, Hartmann y Heidegger.

En el mismo siglo XIX, a propósito de la encíclica Aeterni Patris de 1879 se dará el florecimiento del tomismo, sostenedor también, pero de otro modo, de una metafísica realista.

Siempre nos ha llamado la atención que los mejores filósofos españoles del siglo XX se hayan prestado a ser traductores de los libros de Brentano: José Gáos de su Psicología, Manuel García Morente de su Origen del conocimiento moral, Xavier Zubiri de El provenir de la filosofía, Antonio Millán Puelles de Sobre la existencia de Dios. Y siempre nos ha llamado la atención que no se enseñara Brentano en la universidad.

El problema de Brentano es que ha sido “filosóficamente incorrecto”, pues realizó una crítica feroz y terminante a Kant y los kantianos y eso la universidad alemana no se lo perdonó. Realizó una crítica furibunda a la escuela escolástica católica y eso no se le perdonó. Incluso se levantaron invectivas denunciándolo, que al criticar el concepto de analogía del ser, adoptó él, el de equivocidad. Un siglo después, el erudito sobre Aristóteles, Pierre Aubenque, vino a negar en un libro memorable y reconocido universalmente, Le problème de l´être chez Aristote (1962) la presencia en los textos del Estagirita del concepto de analogía.(si detrás de esto no está la sombra del viejo Francisco, que no valga).

Polemizó con Zeller, con Dilthey, con Herbart, con Sigwart. Criticó, como ya dijimos, a Kant, Descartes, Hume, Hegel, Aristóteles, y a Überweg. No dejó títere con cabeza. Sólo le faltó pelearse con Goethe. Fue criticado por Freud, que se portó con él, como el zorro en el monte, que con la cola borra las huellas por donde anda. Husserl no solo tomó y usufructuó el concepto de intencionalidad sino también el de “retención” que es copia exacta de concepto bentaniano de “asociación original”, pero eso quedó bien silenciado.

Filosóficamente, esta oposición por igual al idealismo kantiano y a la escolástica de su tiempo le valió el silencio de los manuales y la marginalización de su obra de las universidades. Quien quiera comprender en profundidad y conocer las líneas de tensión que corren debajo de las ideas de la filosofía del siglo XX, tiene que leer, forzosamente a Brentano, sino se quedará como la mayoría de los profesores de filosofía, en Babia.

El es el testigo irrenunciable de la ligazón profunda que existe en el desarrollo de la metafísica que va desde Aristóteles, pasa por Tomás de Aquino y Duns Escoto, sigue con él y termina en Heidegger. No al ñudo, el filósofo de Friburgo, realizó su tesis doctoral sobre La doctrina de las categorías y del significado pensando que era de Duns Escoto, cuando después se comprobó que el texto de la Gramática especulativa sobre el que trabajó, pertenecía a Thomas de Erfurt (fl.1325).

La invitación está hecha, seguro que algún buen profesor o algún inquieto investigador  recoge el guante.

 

 

Nota: Bibliografía de F. Brentano en castellano

Psicología (desde el punto de vista empírico), Revista de Occidente, Madrid, 1927

Sobre la existencia de Dios, Rialp, Madrid 1979.

Sobre el concepto de verdad, Ed. Complutense, Madrid, 1998

El origen del conocimiento moral, Revista de Occidente, Madrid 1927. (Tecnos, Madrid 2002).

Breve esbozo de una teoría general del conocimiento, Ed. Encuentro, Madrid 2001.

El porvenir de la filosofía, Revista de Occidente, Madrid 1936

Aristóteles y su cosmovisión, Labor, Barcelona 1951.

Sobre los múltiples significados del ente según Aristóteles, Ed. Encuentro, Madrid 2007

 

Razones del desaliento en filosofía, Ed. Encuentro, Madrid, 2010

 

Existen además, en castellano, trabajos de consulta valiosos sobre su filosofía como los debidos a los profesores Mario Ariel González Porta y  Sergio Sánchez-Migallón Granados.

 

                             III- Max Scheler y el sentido de la realidad

 

                                                                                                                                          

El tema de cómo saber que la realidad exterior existe no ha sido un asunto menor para la filosofía moderna. En general y desde sus primeros tiempos la filosofía  ha desconfiado siempre de los sentidos externos: ya Heráclito sostenía, tirado en la playa: el sol es grande como mi pie.

En la modernidad Descartes: “he experimentado varias veces que los sentidos son engañosos, y es prudente, no fiarse nunca por completo de quienes nos han engañado una vez.” [8] 

Max Scheler trata en tema, específicamente,  en una meditación titulada La metafísica de la percepción y la realidad  que estuvo incluida en uno de sus últimos trabajos Erkenntnis und Arbeit (Conocimiento y trabajo) de 1926.

 

 Es sabido que el fundador de la fenomenología, Edmundo Husserl (1859-1938), maestro de Scheler, se propuso construir una filosofía como ciencia estricta y para ello sostuvo: zu den Sachen selbst (ir a las cosas mismas) que son las que aparecen a la conciencia. Esta conciencia es una trama de relaciones intencionales, pues la conciencia tiende a objetos, in-tendere. Y para ello Husserl no ha querido plantearse la existencia de objetos reales como existencias en sí y ha recurrido a la epoché, a la puesta entre paréntesis de la existencia en sí de las cosas. Limitándose a la descripción de las estructuras y de los contenidos intencionales de la conciencia. De modo tal que exista o no exista la realidad, ese no es un problema de la fenomenología de Husserl. En una palabra, Husserl postergó el tema o problema de “la cosa en sí” y no se animó a tomar partido, cosa que sí va a hacer su discípulo.

Max Scheler va a seguir con el método de fenomenológico de su maestro y su ontología como teoría general de los objetos pertenecientes a distintas esferas: reales (naturales y culturales), ideales, valores y metafísicos. Destacándose sobre todo con brillantes estudios sobre los objetos culturales y axiológicos. Pero al mismo tiempo se va a modificar o completar el mismo método.

Las categorías que son las que acompañan a cada tipo de ser, no son como en Aristóteles producto de la predicación o formas de decir el objeto y que previamente son modos de existencia. No, para la fenomenología las categorías son modos de presentación “en mi conciencia” de tales objetos y no de existencia fuera de mi.

Cuando Scheler en la plenitud de su capacidad filosófica aborda el tema concreto del trabajo, el objeto propio del mismo lo lleva a dar un paso más allá que su maestro. Mientras que para Husserl, sobre todo para el primero, el existir fuera de mi conciencia de las cosas es solo presuntiva. Presumimos que las cosas pueden tener un ser en sí mismas, pero no estamos tan seguros. En sus últimas conclusiones, niega esta existencia presunta (Cfr. Ideas), mientras que  para Scheler podemos tener un saber cierto de esa realidad en sí.

Y lo afirma en forma tajante: “los centros de resistencia del mundo, tal cual han sido dados a la experiencia práctica de la voluntad de trabajo y del actuar en el mundo, han confirmado su eficacia en la relación práctica entre el hombre y el mundo”. [9]

De modo tal que solamente en el transcurso del trabajo ejercido sobre el mundo el hombre aprende a conocer el mundo objetivo y causal, aquel que se da en el espacio y en el tiempo. El trabajo y no la contemplación es “la raíz más esencial de toda ciencia positiva, de toda intuición, de todo experimento”.

El hombre posee además otra posibilidad de conocimiento a través de la percepción sensorial que se expresa en el conocimiento filosófico. Este conocimiento es de dos tipos: a) el de las esencias al que se llega a través “del asombro, la humildad y el amor espiritual hacia lo esencial” mediante la reducción fenomenológica de la existencia en sí de los objetos y b) de los instintos, impulsos y fuerzas que viene de las imágenes  a la que se llega “por la entrega dionisíaca en la identificación con el impulso cuya parte es también nuestro ser impulsivo”.

Y concluye Scheler: “Pero el verdadero conocimiento filosófico sólo nace en la máxima tensión entre ambas actitudes y a través de la superación de esta tensión, en la unidad de la persona.” [10]

 

La existencia de un mundo real es preexistente a todo lo demás, tanto a la concepción natural del mundo cuanto cualidades de la percepción. Está ahí y preexiste a los dominios de la mundanidad interior y exterior, a la existencia de las categorías.

De este mundo sabemos por “la resistencia” que nos ofrece a la actividad sobre él. “Ser real es mas bien, ser resistencia frente a la espontaneidad originaria, que es una y la misma en todas las especies del querer y del atender.” [11]

Este ser real existe antes de todo pensar y percibir. El ser real puede preexistir también a todos los actos intelectuales, cuyo único correlato es la “consistencia” y nunca la existencia.

La existencia esta dada porque el ser real es algo preexistente al conocer y que solo sabemos de él por el impulso de resistencia que nos ofrece cuando actuamos sobre él.

En el fondo el ser real es “ser querido” y  no “pensado” a través del fundamento del mundo y el principio de la experiencia de la resistencia es un acto volitivo. Scheler se da cuento y menta allí la sombra de Maine de Biran y de Schopenhauer.

Y termina enunciando las cuatro leyes que rigen la realidad y que preexisten a todo lo que aparece en las esferas de los objetos: 1) la realidad de algo “Real Absoluto”, esperado como posible. 2) la realidad del prójimo y de la comunidad, como el tú y el nosotros. 3) el mundo exterior como ser real de algo que existe y 4) la realidad del ser corporal, vivido como propio.

Estas cuatro leyes nos vienen a mostrar el principio fundamental de toda la filosofía de Scheler, aquel que aplica a todas las esferas del ser y los objetos según la cual lo real, lo resistente, lo que existe en sí, es mayor y surge allí donde nuestro dominio de las cosas es menor. Así, el domino del hombre es mínimo sobre el ser absoluto en cambio nuestro dominio es máximo sobre la máquina, que es nuestro producto. Frente a las personas nuestro dominio es muy limitado pero sobre los animales es mayor. “El dominio es infinitamente menor sobre lo viviente que sobre lo inanimado” [12]

Esto le permite establecer una jerarquía en las esferas que luego va a aplicar en su axiología y su ética. Y allí nos va a sorprender cuando enuncia que el espíritu carece de la fuerza y energía para obrar, pues toda la energía procede del impulso vital. Así, éste se espiritualiza sublimándose y el espíritu opera vivificándose. Pero solo la vida puede poner en actividad y hacer realidad en espíritu.

 

 

Breve biografía

 

Max Scheler (1874-1928) Hijo de un campesino bávaro luterano y madre judía, se bautiza católico en 1889. Es alumno de Simmel y Dilthey y le dirige su tesis Rudolf  Eucken, quien hizo su tesis sobre el lenguaje de Aristóteles (el método de la investigación aristotélica 1872)  y que  había estudiado a su vez con Trendelenburg, el gran estudioso del Estagirita en el siglo XIX. En 1902 conoce a Husserl y su método fenomenológico y en 1907 al gran teólogo von Hildebrand. Por escándalos de su mujer, de la que se separa, en 1911 la universidad de Munich le retira la venia dicenti.  

Prácticamente sin trabajo y viviendo de cursos privados y de la ayuda de sus amigos, Scheler produce sus mejores y más profundas obras. Este período, conocido como el del “Nietzsche católico”, dura hasta 1924, año en que se separa de su segunda mujer, se casa con una alumna y se aleja del catolicismo. Conrad Adenauer le devuelve la venia docente y se reintegra a la universidad. A partir de sus publicaciones de 1927 y 1928, año de su fallecimiento, Scheler cae en una especie panenteísmo. El puesto del hombre en el cosmos, su última obra, es ejemplo emblemático de ello.

 

Bibliografía en castellano

 

(1912) El resentimiento en la moral, de J. Gaos, Madrid, 1927; Buenos Aires, 1938; Edición de José Maria Vegas, Madrid, 1992; Caparros Editores, S. L. Madrid, 1993.

(1913) Etica, nuevo ensayo de fundamentacion de un personalismo etico. Traducción de de Hilario Rodríguez Sanz. Introducción de Juan Miguel Palacios. Tercera editción revisada. Caparrós Editores (Collección esprit, 45). Madrid, 2001, 758 págs.

(1916-23) Amor y conocimiento, di A. Klein, Buenos Aires, Sur, 1960. 

De lo eterno en el hombre. La esencia y los atributos de Dios, de J. Marias, Madrid, 1940. 

(1917) La esencia de la filosofía y la condición moral del conocer filosófico, de E.Tabernig de Pucciarelli e I. M. de Brugger, Buenos Aires, 1958, 1962. 

(1913-22) Esencia y formas de la simpatía, de J. Gaos, Buenos Aires, 1923, 1943.  Íngrid Vendrell Ferran revisó la traducción, 2005. Ediciones Sígueme Salamanca, España.

(1912) Los ídolos del autoconocimiento. Traducción e introdución de Íngrid  Vendrell Ferran. Ed. Sígueme. Salamanca, 2003

(1914) Sobre el pudor y el sentimiento de vergüenza. Traducción e introducción de Íngrid Vendrell Ferran. Ed. Sígueme. Salamanca, 2004.

Sociologia del saber, de J. Gaos, Madrid, 1935. 

(1928) El saber y la cultura,  de J. Gomez, Madrid 1926, 1934; Buenos Aires, 1939; Santiago, 1960. 

La idea del hombre y la historia, Madrid, 1926, e Buenos Aires, 1959. 

(1928) El puesto del hombre en el cosmos, de V. Gaos, Madrid, 1929, 1936. Nueva traducción por V. Gómez. Introducción  de W. Henckmann. Barcelona: Alba 2000.

El porvenir del hombre, Madrid 1927. 

(1921) La idea de paz y el pacifismo, de Camilo. Santé, Buenos Aires, 1955. 

(1911) Muerte y supervivencia. Traducción de Xavier Zubiri. Presentatión de Miguel Palacios. Ediciones Encuentro (opuscula philosophica, 3), Madrid, 2001, 93 págs.

(1914-16)Ordo Amoris, Traducción de  Xavier Zubiri. Edición de Juan Miguel Palacios. Segunda edición. Caparrós Editores (Collección Esprit, 23), Madrid, 2001, 93 págs.

(1911-21) El Santo, el genio, el heroe, de E. Tabernig, Buenos Aires, 1961.

(1926) Conocimiento y trabajo, de Nelly Fortuna, Ed. Nova, Buenos Aires, 1969

(1918-1927) Metafísica de la libertad, E. Nova, Buenos Aires, 1960

 

 

 

(*) [e-mail]  

 www.disenso.org

arkegueta, mejor que filósofo

Universidad Tecnológica Nacional –Argentina-

 

---

[1] Heidegger, M: Kant y el problema de la metafísica, FCE, México, 1973, p.109

[2] Castellani, Leonardo: Schopenhauer, en Revista de la Universidad de Buenos Aires, cuarta época, Nº 16, 1950, pp.389-426

[3] Maresca, Silvio: En la senda de Nietzsche, Catálogos, Buenos Aires, 1991, p. 20

[4] Estos datos que pasamos nosotros y muchos más, se pueden encontrar en los buscadores de Internet, no así en los manuales al uso de la historia de la filosofía contemporánea, que, en general, escamotean la figura y los aportes de Brentano. O peor aún, lo limitan al lugar común de inventor de la intencionalidad de la conciencia. 

[5] La persecución que sufrieron los católicos alemanes bajo el gobierno de Bismarck (1871-1890) ha sido terrible. Más de un millón de ellos huyeron a Rusia donde los recibió el Zar con un convenio de estadía por cien años. Pasado el siglo muchos de esos “alemanes del Volga” vinieron a radicarse en la Argentina en la zona de Coronel Suárez, al sur oeste de la provincia de Buenos Aires. Duró tanto el hostigamiento a los católicos de parte de la Kulturkampf, que cuenta Heidegger (1889-1976), que su padre era el sacristán de la iglesia de San Martín de su pueblo natal,  y que los protestantes se la devolvieron, recién, un año antes de que él naciera.

[6] 80 años después, en 1942 publicó Nimio de Anquín en Argentina un trabajo definitivo sobre el tema Las dos concepciones del ente en Aristóteles, Ortodoxia Nº 1, pp.38-69, Buenos Aires, 1942, del que se han privado de leer hasta ahora los europeos. 40 años después, en 1982 con motivo de mi tesis doctoral en la Sorbona bajo la dirección de Pierre Aubenque, ví como éste gran erudito se arrastraba sobre las tintas del libro Z de la Metafísica de  Aristóteles, sin poder llegar a la suela de los zapatos de de Anquín.

[7] Anquín, Nimo de:  Ente y ser, Gredos, Madrid, 1962

[8] Descartes: Meditaciones metafísicas, meditación primera, ab initio.

[9] Scheler, Max: Conocimiento y trabajo, Ed. Nova, Buenos Aires, 1969, p. 274

[10] Scheler, Max: op.cit. p.279

[11] Scheler, Max: op.cit. p.280

[12] Scheler, Max: op.cit. p.301

Brentano, el eslabon perdido de la filosofia contemporanea

Brentano, el eslabón perdido de la filosofía contemporánea

                                                                                                                    Alberto Buela (*)

 

Su vida y sus influencias [1]

 

Franz Clemens Brentano (1838-1917) es el filósofo alemán de ancestros italianos de la zona de Cuomo, que introduce la noción de intencionalidad en la filosofía contemporánea. Noción que deriva del concepto escolástico de “cogitativa” trabajado tanto por Tomás de Aquino como por Duns Escoto en la baja edad media. Lectores que, junto con Aristóteles, conocía Brentano casi a la perfección y que leía fluidamente en sus lenguas originales.

Se lo considera tanto el precursor de la fenomenología (sus trabajos sobre la intencionalidad de la conciencia)  como de las corrientes analíticas (sus trabajos sobre el lenguaje y los juicios), de la psicología profunda (sus trabajos sobre psicología experimental)  como de la axiología (sus trabajos sobre el juicio de preferencia).

Nació y se crió en el seno de una familia ilustre marcada por el romanticismo social. Su tío el poeta Clemens Maria Brentano(1778-1842) y su tía Bettina von Arnim(1785-1859) se encontraban entre los más importantes escritores del romanticismo alemán y su hermano,  Lujo Brentano, se convirtió en un experto en economía social. De su madre recibió una profunda fe y formación católicas. Estudió matemática, filosofía y teología en las universidades de Múnich, Würzburg, Berlín, y Münster. Siguió los cursos sobre Aristóteles de F. Trendelemburg Tras doctorarse con un estudio sobre Aristóteles en 1862,Sobre los múltiples sentidos del ente en Aristóteles, se ordenó sacerdote católico de la orden dominica en 1864. Dos años más tarde presentó en la Universidad de Würzburg, al norte de Baviera, su escrito de habilitación como catedrático, La psicología de Aristóteles, en especial su doctrina acerca del “nous poietikos”. En los años siguientes dedicó su atención a otras corrientes de filosofía, e iba creciendo su preocupación por la situación de la filosofía de aquella época en Alemania: un escenario en el que se contraponían el empirismo positivista y el neokantismo. En ese periodo estudió con profundidad a John Stuart Mill y publicó un libro sobre Auguste Comte y la filosofía positiva. La Universidad de Würzburg le nombró profesor extraordinario en 1872.

Sin embargo, en su interior se iban planteando problemas de otro género. Se cuestionaba algunos dogmas de la Iglesia católica, sobre todo el dogma de la Santísima Trinidad. Y después de que el Concilio Vaticano I de 1870 proclamara el dogma de la infalibilidad papal, Brentano decidió en 1873 abandonar su sacerdocio. Sin embargo, para no perjudicar más a los católicos alemanes —ya de suyo hostigados hasta  llegar a huir en masa al Volga ruso por la “Kulturkampf” de Bismarck [2]— renunció voluntariamente a su puesto de Würzburg, pero al mismo tiempo, se negó a unirse a los cismáticos “viejos católicos”. Pero sin embargo este alejamiento existencial de la Iglesia no supuso un alejamiento del pensamiento profundo de la Iglesia pues en varios de sus trabajos y en forma reiterada afirmó siempre que: «Hay una ciencia que nos instruye acerca del fundamento primero y último de todas las cosas, en tanto que nos lo permite reconocer en la divinidad. De muchas maneras, el mundo entero resulta iluminado y ensanchado a la mirada por esta verdad, y recibimos a través de ella las revelaciones más esenciales sobre nuestra propia esencia y destino. Por eso, este saber es en sí mismo, sobre todos los demás, valioso. (…) Llamamos a esta ciencia Sabiduría, Filosofía primera, Teología» (Cfr.: Religion und Philosophie, pp.72-73. citado por Sánchez-Migallón).

Se desempeñó luego como profesor en Viena durante veinte años (entre 1874 y 1894), con algunas interrupciones. Franz Brentano fue amigo de los espíritus más finos de la Viena de esos años, entre ellos Theodor Meynert, Josef Breuer, Theodor Gomperz (1832-1912). En 1880 se casó con Ida von Lieben, la hermana de Anna von Lieben, la futura paciente de Sigmund Freud. Indiferente a la comida y la vestimenta, jugaba al ajedrez con una pasión devoradora, y ponía de manifiesto un talento inaudito para los juegos de palabras más refinados, En 1879, con el seudónimo de Aenigmatis, publicó una compilación de adivinanzas que suscitó entusiasmo en los salones vieneses y dio lugar a numerosas imitaciones. Esto lo cuenta Freud en un libro suyo El chiste.

En la Universidad de Viena tuvo como alumnos a Sigmund Freud, Carl Stumpf y Edmund Husserl, Christian von Ehrenfels, introductor del término Gestalt (totalidad), y, discrepa y rechaza la idea del inconsciente descrita y utilizada por Freud. Fue un profesor carismático, Brentano ejerció una fuerte influencia en la obra de Edmund Husserl, Alois Meinong (1853-1921), fundador de la teoría del objeto,  Thomas Masaryk (1859-1937) KasimirTwardowski, de la escuela polaca de lógica y Marty Antón, entre otros, y por lo tanto juega un papel central en el desarrollo filosófico de la Europa central en principios del siglo XX. En 1873, el joven Sigmund Freud, estudiante en la Universidad de Viena, obtuvo su doctorado en filosofía bajo la dirección de Brentano.

El impulso de Brentano a la psicología cognitiva es consecuencia de su realismo. Su concepción de describir la conciencia en lugar de analizarla, dividiéndola en partes, como se hacía en su época, dio lugar a la fenomenología, que continuarían desarrollando Edmund Husserl (1859-1938), Max Scheler (1874-1928), Martín Heidegger (1889-1976), Maurice Merleau-Ponty (1908-1961), además de influenciar sobre el existencialismo de Jean-Paul Sartre (1905-1980) con su negación del inconsciente.

En 1895, después de la muerte de su esposa, dejó Austria decepcionado, en esta ocasión, publicó una serie de tres artículos en el periódico vienés Die Neue Freie Presse : Mis últimos votos por Austria, en la que destaca su posición filosófica, así como su enfoque de la psicología, pero también criticó duramente  la situación jurídica de los antiguos sacerdotes en Austria. In 1896 he settled down in Florence where he got married to Emilie Ruprecht in 1897. En 1896 se instaló en Florencia, donde se casó con Emilie Ruprecht en 1897. Vivió en Florencia casi ciego y, a causa de la primera guerra mundial, cuando Italia entra en guerra contra Alemania, se traslada a Zurich, donde muere en 1917.

Los trabajos que publicaron sus discípulos han sido los siguientes según el orden de su aparición: La doctrina de Jesús y su significación permanente; Psicología como ciencia empírica, Vol. III; Ensayos sobre el conocimiento, Sobre la existencia de Dios; Verdad y evidencia; Doctrina de las categorías, Fundamentación y construcción de la ética; Religión y filosofía, Doctrina del juicio correcto; Elementos de estética; Historia de la filosofía griega; La recusación de lo irreal; Investigaciones filosóficas acerca del espacio, del tiempo y el continuo; La doctrina de Aristóteles acerca del origen del espíritu humano; Historia de la filosofía medieval en el Occidente cristiano; Psicología descriptiva; Historia de la filosofía moderna, Sobre Aristóteles; Sobre “Conocimiento y error” de Ernst March.

 

Lineamientos de su pensamiento

 

Todo el mundo sabe, al menos el de la filosofía, que no se puede realizar tal actividad sino es en diálogo con algún clásico. Es que los clásicos son tales porque tienen respuestas para el presente.  Hay que tomar un maestro y a partir de él comenzar a filosofar. Brentano lo tuvo a Aristóteles, el que le había enseñado Federico Trendelenburg (1802-1872), el gran estudioso del Estagirita en la primera mitad de siglo XIX.

En su tesis doctoral, Sobre los múltiples significados del ente según Aristóteles, que tanto influenciara en Heidegger, distingue cuatro sentidos de “ente” en el Estagirita: el ente como ens per accidens o lo fortuito; el ente en el sentido de lo verdadero, con su correlato, lo no-ente en el sentido de lo falso; el ente en potencia y el ente en acto; y el ente que se distribuye según la sustancia y las figuras de las categorías. De esos cuatro significados, el veritativo abrirá en Brentano el estudio de la intencionalidad. Pero al que dedica con diferencia mayor extensión es al cuarto, el estudio de la sustancia y su modificación, esto es, a las diversas categorías. Esto se debe, en parte, a las discusiones de su tiempo en torno a la metafísica aristotélica. En ellas toma postura defendiendo principalmente dos tesis: primera, que entre los diferentes sentidos categoriales del ente se da una unidad de analogía, y que ésta significa unidad de referencia a un término común, la sustancia segunda, que precisamente esa unidad de referencia posibilita en el griego deducir las categorías según un principio.[3]

Investigó las cuestiones metafísicas mediante un análisis lógico-lingüístico, con lo que se distinguió tanto de los empiristas ingleses como del kantismo académico. Ejerciendo una gran influencia el algunos miembros del Círculo de Viena.

En 1874 publica su principal obra Psicología como ciencia empírica, de la que editará tres volúmenes, donde realiza su principal aporte a la historia de la filosofía, su concepto de intencionalidad de la conciencia que tendrá capital importancia para el desarrollo posterior de la fenomenología a través de Husserl y de Scheler.

Sólo lo psíquico es intencional, esto es, pone en relación la conciencia con un objeto. Esta llamada «tesis de Brentano», que hace de la intencionalidad la característica de lo psíquico, permite entender de un modo positivo, a diferencia de lo que no lograba la psicología de aquella época, los fenómenos de conciencia que Brentano distingue entre representaciones, juicios teóricos y  juicios prácticos o emotivos (sentimientos y voliciones).
Todo fenómeno de conciencia es o una representación de algo, que no forzosamente ha de ser un objeto exterior, o un juicio acerca de algo. Los juicios o son teóricos, y se refieren a la verdad y falsedad de las representaciones (juicios propiamente dichos), y su criterio es la evidencia y de ellos trata la epistemología y la lógica; o son prácticos, y se refieren a la bondad o a la maldad, la corrección o incorrección, al amor y al odio (fenómenos emotivos), y su criterio es la «preferencia», la valoración, o «lo mejor», y de ellos trata la ética. Al estudio de la intencionalidad de la conciencia lo llama psicología descriptiva o fenomenología.

En 1889 dicta su conferencia en Sociedad Jurídica de Viena “De la sanción natural de lo justo y lo moral” que aparece publicada luego con notas que duplican su extensión bajo el título de: El origen del conocimiento moral”, trabajo que publicado en castellano en 1927, del que dice Ortega y Gasset, director de la revista de Occidente que lo publica, “Este tratadito, de la más auténtica filosofía, constituye una de las joyas filosóficas que, como “El discurso del método” o la “Monadología”… Puede decirse que es la base donde se asienta la ética moderna de los valores”.

Comienza preguntándose por la sanción natural de lo justo y lo moral. Y hace corresponder lo bueno con lo verdadero y a la ética con la lógica. Así, lo verdadero se admite como verdadero en un juicio, mientras que lo bueno en un acto de amor. El criterio exclusivo de la verdad del juicio es cuando, éste, se presenta como evidente. Pero, paradójicamente, lo evidente, va a sostener siguiendo a Descartes, es el conocimiento sin juicio.

Lo bueno es el objeto y mi referencia puede ser errónea, de modo que mi actitud ante las cosas recibe la sanción de las cosas y no de mí. Lo bueno es algo intrínseco a los objetos amados.

Que yo tenga amor u odio a una cosa no prueba sin más que sea buena o mala. Es necesario que ese amor u odio sean justos. El amor puede ser justo o injusto, adecuado o inadecuado. La actitud adecuada ante una cosa buena es amarla y ante una cosa mala, el odiarla. “Decimos que algo es bueno cuando el modo de referencia que consiste en amarlo es el justo. Lo que sea amable con amor justo, lo digno de ser amado, es lo bueno en el más amplio sentido de la palabra»”.

Dos meses después el 27 de marzo de 1889 dicta su conferencia Sobre el concepto de verdad, ahora en la Sociedad filosófica de Viena. Esta conferencia es fundamental por varios motivos: a) muestra el carácter polémico de Brentano, tanto con el historiador de la filosofía Windelbang (1848-1915) por tergiversar a Kant,  como a Kant, “cuya filosofía es un error, que ha conducido a errores mayores y, finalmente, a un caos filosófico completo” (cómo no lo van a silenciar luego, en las universidades alemanas, al viejo Francisco). b) Nos da su opinión sin tapujos sobre Aristóteles diciendo: “Es el espíritu científico más poderoso que jamás haya tenido influencia sobre los destinos de la humanidad”. c) Muestra y demuestra que el concepto de verdad en Aristóteles “adecuación del intelecto y la cosa” ha sido adoptada tanto por Descartes como por Kant hasta llegar a él mismo. Pero que dicho concepto encierra un grave error y allí él va a proponer su teoría del juicio.

Diferencia entre juicios negativos y juicios afirmativos. Así en los juicios negativos “no hay dragones” no hay concordancia entre mi juicio y la cosa porque la cosa no existe. Mientras que en los juicios afirmativos cuando hay concordancia son verdaderos.

“el ámbito en que es adecuado el juicio afirmativo es el de la existencia y el del juicio negativo, el de lo no existente”. Por lo tanto “un juicio es verdadero cuando afirma de algo que es, que es; y de algo que no es, niega que sea”.

En los juicios negativos la representación no tiene contenido real, mientras que la verdad de los juicios está condicionada por el existir o ser del la cosa (Sein des Dinges). Así, el ser de la cosa, la existencia es la que funda la verdad del juicio. El “ser del árbol” es lo que hace verdadero al juicio: “el árbol es”.

Y así lo afirma una y otra vez: “un juicio es verdadero cuando juzga apropiadamente un objeto, por consiguiente, cuando si es, se dice que es; y sino es, se dice que no es”.(in fine).

Y desengañado termina afirmando que: “Han transcurrido dos mil años desde que Aristóteles investigó los múltiples sentidos del ente, y es triste, pero cierto, que la mayoría no hayan sabido extraer ningún fruto de sus investigaciones”.

Su propuesta es, entonces, discriminar claramente en el juicio “el ser de la cosa” que es equivalente a ”la existencia”,  de “la cosa” también denominada por Brentano ”lo real”. Existir o existencia,  y ser real o realidad es la dupla de pares que expresan el “ser verdadero” y el “ser sustancial” respectivamente, que él se ocupó de estudiar en su primer trabajo sobre el ente en Aristóteles.

De modo tal que todo lo que es, es. Y se nos dice también en el sentido de lo verdadero. En una palabra el ser de la cosa se convierte con la verdadero, sin buscarlo Brentano retorna al viejo ens et verum convertuntur de la teoría de los transcendentales del ente.

Y así da sus dos últimos y más profundos consejos:  “Por último, no estaremos tentados nunca de confundir, como ha ocurrido cada vez más, el concepto de lo real y el de lo existente”. Y “podríamos extraer de nuestra investigación otra lección y grabarla en nuestras mentes para siempre…el medio definitivo y eficaz (para realizar un juicio verdadero) consiste siempre en una referencia a la intuición de lo individual de la que se derivan todos nuestros criterios generales”.

No podemos no recordar acá, por la coincidencia de los conceptos y consejos, aquella que nos dejara el primer metafísico argentino, Nimio de Anquín (1896-1979),: “Ir siembre a la búsqueda del ser singular en su discontinuidad fantasmagórica. Ir al encuentro con las cosas en su individuación y  potencial universalidad”.[4]

Franz Brentano es el verdadero fundador de la metafísica realista contemporánea que luego continuarán, con sus respectivas variantes,  Husserl, Scheler, Hartmann y Heidegger.

En el mismo siglo XIX, a propósito de la encíclica Aeterni Patris de 1879 se dará el florecimiento del tomismo, sostenedor también, pero de otro modo, de una metafísica realista.

Siempre nos ha llamado la atención que los mejores filósofos españoles del siglo XX se hayan prestado a ser traductores de los libros de Brentano: José Gáos de su Psicología, Manuel García Morente de su Origen del conocimiento moral, Xavier Zubiri de El provenir de la filosofía, Antonio Millán Puelles de Sobre la existencia de Dios. Y siempre nos ha llamado la atención que no se enseñara Brentano en la universidad.

El problema de Brentano es que ha sido “filosóficamente incorrecto”, pues realizó una crítica feroz y terminante a Kant y los kantianos y eso la universidad alemana no se lo perdonó. Realizó una crítica furibunda a la escuela escolástica católica y eso no se le perdonó. Incluso se levantaron invectivas denunciándolo, que al criticar el concepto de analogía del ser, adoptó él, el de equivocidad. Un siglo después, el erudito sobre Aristóteles, Pierre Aubenque, vino a negar en un libro memorable y reconocido universalmente, Le probleme de l´etre chez Aristote (1962) la presencia en los textos del Estagirita del concepto de analogía.(si detrás de esto no está la sombra de Brentano, que no valga).

Polemizó con Zeller, con Dilthey, con Herbart, con Sigwart. Criticó, como ya dijimos, a Kant, Descartes, Hume, Hegel, Aristóteles, y a Überweg. No dejó títere con cabeza. Sólo le faltó pelearse con Goethe. Fue criticado por Freud, que se portó con él como el zorro en el monte que con la cola borra las huellas por donde anda. Husserl no solo tomó y usufructuó el concepto de intencionalidad sino también el de “retención” que es copia exacta de concepto bentaniano de “asociación original”, pero eso quedó bien silenciado.

Filosóficamente, esta oposición por igual al idealismo kantiano y a la escolástica de su tiempo le valió el silencio de los manuales y la marginalización de su obra de las universidades. Quien quiera comprender en profundidad y conocer las líneas de tensión que corren debajo de las ideas de la filosofía del siglo XX, tiene que leer, forzosamente a Brentano, sino se quedará como la mayoría de los profesores de filosofía, en Babia.

El es el testigo irrenunciable de la ligazón profunda que existe en el desarrollo de la metafísica que va desde Aristóteles, pasa por Tomás de Aquino y Duns Escoto , sigue con él y termina en Heidegger. No al ñudo, el filósofo de Friburgo, realizó su tesis doctoral sobre La doctrina de las categorías y del significado pensando que era de Duns Escoto, cuando después se comprobó que el texto de la Gramática especulativa sobre el que trabajó, pertenecía a Thomas de Erfurt (fl.1325).

La invitación está hecha, seguro que algún buen profesor o algún inquieto investigador  recoge el guante.

 

 

Nota: Bibliografía de F. Brentano en castellano

Psicología (desde el punto de vista empírico), Revista de Occidente, Madrid, 1927

Sobre la existencia de Dios, Rialp, Madrid 1979.

Sobre el concepto de verdad, Ed. Complutense, Madrid, 1998

El origen del conocimiento moral, Revista de Occidente, Madrid 1927. (Tecnos, Madrid 2002).

Breve esbozo de una teoría general del conocimiento, Ed. Encuentro, Madrid 2001.

El porvenir de la filosofía, Revista de Occidente, Madrid 1936

Aristóteles y su cosmovisión, Labor, Barcelona 1951.

Sobre los múltiples significados del ente según Aristóteles, Ed. Encuentro, Madrid 2007

 

Razones del desaliento en filosofía, Ed. Encuentro, Madrid, 2010

 

Existen además, en castellano, trabajos de consulta valiosos sobre su filosofía como los debidos a los profesores Mario Ariel González Porta y  Sergio Sánchez-Migallón Granados.

 

 

 

(*) [e-mail]

arkegueta, aprendiz constante, mejor que filósofo

www.disenso.org

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[1] Estos datos que pasamos nosotros y muchos más, se pueden encontrar en los buscadores de Internet, no así en los manuales al uso de la historia de la filosofía contemporánea, que, en general, escamotean la figura y los aportes de Brentano. O peor aún, lo limitan al lugar común de inventor de la intencionalidad de la conciencia. 

[2] La persecución que sufrieron los católicos alemanes bajo el gobierno de Bismarck (1871-1890) ha sido terrible. Más de un millón de ellos huyeron a Rusia donde los recibió el Zar con un convenio de estadía por cien años. Pasado el siglo muchos de esos “alemanes del Volga” vinieron a radicarse en la Argentina en la zona de Coronel Suárez, al sur oeste de la provincia de Buenos Aires. Duró tanto el hostigamiento a los católicos de parte de la Kulturkampf, que cuenta Heidegger (1889-1976), que su padre era el sacristán de la iglesia de San Martín de su pueblo natal,  y que los protestantes se la devolvieron, recién, un año antes de que él naciera.

[3] 80 años después, en 1942 publicó Nimio de Anquín en Argentina un trabajo definitivo sobre el tema Las dos concepciones del ente en Aristóteles, Ortodoxia Nº 1, pp.38-69, Buenos Aires, 1942, del que se han privado de leer hasta ahora los europeos. 40 años después, en 1982 con motivo de mi tesis doctoral en la Sorbona bajo la dirección de Pierre Aubenque, vi como éste gran erudito se arrastraba sobre las tintas del libro Z de la Metafísica de  Aristóteles, sin poder llegar a la suela de los zapatos de de Anquín.

[4] Anquín, Nimo de:  Ente y ser, Gredos, Madrid, 1962

Armin Mohler, l'homme qui nous désignait l'ennemi!

Thorsten HINZ:

Armin Mohler, l’homme qui nous désignait l’ennemi

 

Le Dr. Karlheinz Weissmann vient de sortir de presse une biographie d’Armin Mohler, publiciste de la droite allemande et historien de la “révolution conservatrice”

 

Armin Mohler ne fut jamais l’homme des demies-teintes!

 

Qui donc Armin Mohler détestait-il? Les libéraux et les tièdes, les petits jardiniers amateurs qui gratouillent le bois mort qui encombre l’humus, c’est-à-dire les nouilles de droite, inoffensives parce que dépouvues de pertinence! Il détestait aussi tous ceux qui s’agrippaient aux concepts et aux tabous que définissait leur propre ennemi. Il considérait que les libéraux étaient bien plus subtils et plus dangereux que les communistes: pour reprendre un bon mot de son ami Robert Hepp: ils nous vantaient l’existence de cent portes de verre qu’ils nous définissaient comme l’Accès, le seul Accès, à la liberté, tout en taisant soigneusement le fait que 99 de ces portes demeuraient toujours fermées. La victoire totale des libéraux a hissé l’hypocrisie en principe ubiquitaire. Les gens sont désormais jugés selon les déclarations de principe qu’ils énoncent sans nécessairement y croire et non pas sur leurs actes et sur les idées qu’ils sont prêts à défendre.

 

Mohler était était un type “agonal”, un gars qui aimait la lutte: sa bouille carrée de Bâlois l’attestait. Avec la subtilité d’un pluvier qui capte les moindres variations du climat, Mohler repérait les courants souterrains de la politique et de la société. C’était un homme de forte sensibilité mais certainement pas un sentimental. Mohler pensait et écrivait clair quand il abordait la politique: ses mots étaient durs, tranchants, de véritables armes. Il était déjà un “conservateur moderne” ou un “néo-droitiste” avant que la notion n’apparaisse dans les médiats. En 1995, il s’était défini comme un “fasciste au sens où l’entendait José Antonio Primo de Rivera”. Mohler se référait ainsi —mais peu nombreux étaient ceux qui le savaient— au jeune fondateur de la Phalange espagnole, un homme intelligent et cultivé, assassiné par les gauches ibériques et récupéré ensuite par Franco.

 

Il manquait donc une biographie de ce doyen du conservatisme allemand d’après guerre, mort en 2003. Karlheinz Weissmann était l’homme appelé à combler cette lacune: il connait la personnalité de Mohler et son oeuvre; il est celui qui a actualisé l’ouvrage de référence de Mohler sur la révolution conservatrice.

 

Pour Mohler seuls comptaient le concret et le réel

 

La sensibilité toute particulière d’Armin Mohler s’est déployée dans le décor de la ville-frontière suisse de Bâle. Mohler en était natif. Il y avait vu le jour en 1920. En 1938, la lecture d’un livre le marque à jamais: c’est celui de Christoph Steding, “Das Reich und die Krankheit der europäischen Kultur” (“Le Reich et la pathologie de la culture européenne”). Pour Steding, l’Allemagne, jusqu’en 1933, avait couru le risque de subir une “neutralisation politique et spirituelle”, c’est-à-dire une “helvétisation de la pensée allemande”, ce qui aurait conduit à la perte de la souveraineté intérieure et extérieure; l’Allemagne aurait dérogé pour adopter le statut d’un “intermédiaire éclectique”. Les peuples qui tombent dans une telle déchéance sont “privés de destin” et tendent à ne plus produire que des “pharisiens nés”. On voit tout de suite que Steding était intellectuellement proche de Carl Schmitt. Quant à ce dernier, il a pris la peine de recenser personnellement le livre, publié à titre posthume, de cet auteur mort prématurément. Dans ce livre apparaissent certains des traits de pensée qui animeront Mohler, le caractériseront, tout au long de son existence.

 

L’Allemagne est devenue pour le jeune Mohler “la grande tentation”, tant et si bien qu’il franchit illégalement le frontière suisse en février 1942 “pour aider les Allemands à gagner la guerre”. Cet intermède allemand ne durera toutefois qu’une petite année. Mohler passa quelques mois à Berlin, avec le statut d’étudiant, et s’y occupa des auteurs de la “révolution conservatrice”, à propos desquels il rédigera sa célèbre thèse de doctorat, sous la houlette de Karl Jaspers. Mohler était un rebelle qui s’insurgeait contre la croyance au progrès et à la raison, une croyance qui estime que le monde doit à terme être tout compénétré de raison et que les éléments, qui constituent ce monde, peuvent être combinés les uns aux autres ou isolés les uns des autres à loisir, selon une logique purement arbitraire. Contre cette croyance et cette vision, Mohler voulait opposer les forces élémentaires de l’art et de la culture, de la nationalité et de l’histoire. Ce contre-mouvement, disait-il, et cela le distinguait des tenants de la “vieille droite”, ne visait pas la restauration d’un monde ancré dans le 19ème siècle, mais tenait expressément compte des nouvelles réalités.

 

Dans un chapitre, intitulé “Du nominalisme”, le Dr. Karlheinz Weissmann explicite les tentatives de Mohler, qui ne furent pas toujours probantes, de systématiser ses idées et ses vues. Il est clair que Mohler rejette toute forme d’universalisme car tout universalisme déduit le particulier d’un ordre spirituel sous-jacent et identitque pour tous, et noie les réalités dans une “mer morte d’abstractions”. Pour le nominaliste Mohler, les concepts avancés par les universalismes ne sont que des dénominations abstraites et arbitraires, inventées a poteriori, et qui n’ont pour effets que de répandre la confusion. Pour Mohler, seuls le concret et le particulier avaient de l’importance, soit le “réel”, qu’il cherchait à saisir par le biais d’images fortes, puissantes et organiques. Par conséquent, ses sympathies personnelles n’étaient pas déterminées par les idées politiques dont se réclamaient ses interlocuteurs mais tenaient d’abord compte de la valeur de l’esprit et du caractère qu’il percevait chez l’autre.

 

En 1950, Mohler devint le secrétaire d’Ernst Jünger. Ce ne fut pas une époque dépourvue de conflits. Après l’intermède de ce secrétariat, vinrent les années françaises de notre théoricien: il devint en effet le correspondant à Paris du “Tat” suisse et de l’hebdomadaire allemand “Die Zeit”. A partir de 1961, il fut le secrétaire, puis le directeur, de la “Fondation Siemens”. Dans le cadre de cette éminente fonction, il a essayé de contrer la dérive gauchisante de la République fédérale, en organisant des colloques de très haut niveau et en éditant des livres ou des publications remarquables. Parmi les nombreux livres que nous a laissés Mohler, “Nasenring” (= “L’anneau nasal”) est certainement le plus célèbre: il constitue une attaque en règle, qui vise à fustiger l’attitude que les Allemands ont prise vis-à-vis de leur propre histoire (la fameuse “Vergangenheitsbewältigung”). En 1969, Mohler écrivait dans l’hebdomadaire suisse “Weltwoche”: “Le ‘Républiquefédéralien’ est tout occupé, à la meilleure manière des méthodes ‘do-it-yourself’, à se faire la guerre à lui-même. Il n’y a pas que lui: tout le monde occidental semble avoir honte de descendre d’hommes de bonne trempe; tout un chacun voudrait devenir un névrosé car seul cet état, désormais, est considéré comme ‘humain’”.

 

En France, Mohler était un adepte critique de Charles de Gaulle. Il estimait que l’Europe des patries, proposée par le Général, aurait été capable de faire du Vieux Continent une “Troisième Force” entre les Etats-Unis et l’Union Soviétique. Dans les années 60, certaines ouvertures semblaient possibles pour Mohler: peut-être pourrait-il gagner en influence politique via le Président de la CSU bavaroise, Franz-Josef Strauss? Il entra à son service comme “nègre”. Ce fut un échec: Strauss, systématiquement, modifiait les ébauches de discours que Mohler avait truffées de références gaulliennes et les traduisait en un langage “atlantiste”. De la part de Strauss, était-ce de la faiblesse ou était-ce le regard sans illusions du pragmatique qui ne jure que par le “réalisable”? Quoi qu’il en soit, on perçoit ici l’un des conflits fondamentaux qui ont divisé les conservateurs après la guerre: la plupart des hommes de droite se contentaient d’une République fédérale sous protectorat américain (sans s’apercevoir qu’à long terme, ils provoquaient leur propre disparition), tandis que Mohler voulait une Allemagne européenne et libre.

 

Le conflit entre européistes et atlantistes provoqua également l’échec de la revue “Die Republik”, que l’éditeur Axel Springer voulait publier pour en faire le forum des hommes de droite hors partis et autres ancrages politiciens: Mohler décrit très bien cette péripétie dans “Nasenring”.

 

Il semble donc bien que ce soit sa qualité de Suisse qui l’ait sauvé de cette terrible affliction que constitue la perte d’imagination chez la plupart des conservateurs allemands de l’après-guerre. Par ailleurs, le camp de la droite établie a fini par le houspiller dans l’isolement. Caspar von Schrenck-Notzing lui a certes ouvert les colonnes de “Criticon”, qui furent pour lui une bonne tribune, mais les autres éditeurs de revues lui claquèrent successivement la porte au nez; malgré son titre de doctorat, il n’a pas davantage pu mener une carrière universitaire. La réunification n’a pas changé grand chose à sa situation: les avantages pour lui furent superficiels et éphémères.

 

La cadre historique, dans lequel nous nous débattions du temps de Mohler, et dans lequel s’est déployée sa carrière étonnante, freinée uniquement par des forces extérieures, aurait pu gagner quelques contours tranchés et précis. On peut discerner aujourd’hui la grandeur de Mohler. On devrait aussi pouvoir mesurer la tragédie qu’il a incarnée. Weissmann constate qu’il existait encore jusqu’au milieu des années 80 une certaine marge de manoeuvre pour la droite intellectuelle en Allemagne mais que cet espace potentiel s’est rétréci parce que la gauche n’a jamais accepté le dialogue ou n’a jamais rien voulu apprendre du réel. Le lecteur se demande alors spontanément: pourquoi la gauche aurait-elle donc dialogué puisque le rapport de force objectif était en sa faveur?

 

Weissmann a donc résussi un tour de force: il a écrit une véritable “biographie politique” d’Armin Mohler. Son livre deviendra un classique.

 

Thorsten HINZ.

(article paru dans “Junge Freiheit”, Berlin, n°31/32-2011; http://www.jugefreiheit.de/ ).

Péguy parmi nous

Péguy parmi nous

par Pierre LE VIGAN

Il y a cent ans, Péguy publiait Le mystère de la Charité de Jeanne d’Arc, pièce de théâtre qui est toute entière le mystère de la prière de Péguy. Il publiait aussi, cette même année 1911, Le Porche du mystère de la deuxième Vertu (« Ce qui m’étonne, dit Dieu, c’est l’espérance. » Cette « petite fille espérance. Immortelle » que chantera cet autre poète qu’était Brasillach). L’occasion de revenir sur Péguy, l’homme de toutes les passions.

En 1914 mourrait Charles Péguy, au début d’une guerre qui marqua la fin d’une certaine Europe et d’une certaine France. Péguy représentait précisément le meilleur de l’homme de l’ancienne France, atteint au plus haut point par les ravages du monde moderne. On dit parfois qu’il y eut deux Péguy, le premier socialiste et dreyfusard, et le second, nationaliste, critique du progrès, catholique proclamé (par ailleurs nullement pratiquant) et atypique. Ces deux Péguy ont leur grandeur, et les deux ont été bien vivants c’est-à-dire qu’ils ont écrits comme tout le monde aussi quelques bêtises. Mais c’est le même homme qui a été tour à tour socialiste idéaliste et critique passionné – et bien injuste – de Jean Jaurès. Et c’est le même homme qui fut poète, et qui fut hanté par l’idée de hausser l’homme. C’est pourquoi dans Notre jeunesse (1910), Péguy écrivait : « On peut publier mes œuvres complètes, il n’y a pas un mot que j’y changerais. » Et de dire dans ce texte, en substance : je ne renierais jamais mon engagement (dreyfusard) dans l’affaire Dreyfus et je ne renierais jamais la République.

Péguy est né à Orléans en 1873. Il sera influencé par Louis Boitier et le radicalisme orléanais. Fils d’un menuisier et d’une rempailleuse de chaises, Péguy peut faire des études grâce à une bourse de la République. Condisciple du grand historien jacobin Albert Mathiez, Péguy échoue à l’agrégation de philosophie. Dans les années 1890, il se range du côté des socialistes par aspiration à la fraternité et un ordre vrai. De même, il défend Dreyfus injustement accusé de trahison. C’est un anticlérical et un homme de gauche. « Les guerres coloniales sont les plus lâches des guerres », écrit-il en 1902. Sa première Jeanne d’Arc qui, parue en 1897, n’aura aucun succès est dédiée à ceux qui rêvent de la République socialiste universelle. Il abandonne la voie du professorat en 1897.

À partir de 1900, il évolue de manière de plus en plus autonome et inclassable. Il se convertit à un certain réalisme politique. « La paix par le sabre, c’est la seule qui tienne, c’est la seule qui soit digne », écrit-il alors à propos de la colonisation française. Ce qui n’est pas incompatible avec le premier propos mais marque une nette inflexion. C’est l’époque de Notre Patrie (1905) et du raidissement patriotique après l’incident de Tanger. « L’ordre, et l’ordre seul, fait en définitive la liberté. Le désordre fait la servitude », écrit-il alors dans les Cahiers de la Quinzaine. Mais ce ne peut être qu’un ordre vrai, c’est-à-dire un ordre juste.

L’antisocialisme de Péguy vers 1910 est surtout une protestation contre l’embourgeoisement du socialisme. Mais il faut le dire : il y aussi un profond recul de l’intérêt pour la question sociale. S’il ne fut jamais maurrassien (Daniel Halévy expliquera que ce qui a manqué au débat français c’est un face-à-face Maurras – Péguy), Péguy était par contre proche de Barrès.

Anticlérical mais chrétien – il trouve la foi en 1908 -, extrêmement patriote (jusqu’à un antigermanisme détestable mais naïf), Péguy était aussi philosémite (à une époque où le sionisme n’existait pas), ainsi grand admirateur de Bernard Lazare. Les amis juifs ne manquèrent pas à Péguy, tels le fidèle Eddy Marix. Sans parler de « Blanche », son dernier amour. Loin d’être attiré par les extrêmes, Péguy est à partir de 1900, en politique, très modéré. Il voue ainsi un grand respect à Waldeck-Rousseau, homme de gauche modéré, voire « opportuniste » au sens du moment, qui mit un terme  aux affres de l’affaire Dreyfus.

Après avoir ouvert une librairie, vite en faillite, Péguy crée les Cahiers de la Quinzaine, qui n’auront jamais assez d’abonnés pour être rentables (on parle de 1400 abonnés, mais des historiens tels Henri Guillemin indiquent qu’il n’en a jamais eu 1200). Abandonnant le socialisme devenu parlementaire, il s’attache à prôner une République idéale, indépendante des partis et de l’argent, patriote, sociale, apportant à tous l’éducation, la dignité dans le travail et la fraternité. C’est dire que Péguy n’a jamais complètement renié ses idéaux de jeunesse. « Une révolution n’est rien, si elle n’engage pas une nouvelle vie, si elle n’est entière, totale, globale, absolue… » Péguy devient l’homme de toutes les traditions, « des fleurs de lis mais aussi du bonnet phrygien (avec cocarde) ». « Un Michelet dégagé des vapeurs idéologiques », remarque Maurice Reclus. Une fidélité à la République comme continuité de toute notre histoire. C’est ce qu’il résuma par la fameuse formule : « La République c’est notre royaume de France ».

Ami de Jacques Maritain, de Lucien Herr, de Pierre Marcel-Lévy, de Georges Sorel (qui ne crut jamais à sa conversion catholique), de Léon Blum, avec qui il se fâcha, de Marcel Baudouin dont il épousa la sœur et à qui il vouait une affection fraternelle jusqu’à utiliser le pseudonyme de Pierre Baudouin, sous le nom duquel il publia sa première Jeanne d’Arc, Péguy était en relation avec les plus brillants mais aussi souvent les plus profonds des intellectuels de l’époque. De même qu’il échouera à l’agrégation de philosophie, il ne termina jamais sa thèse sur « l’histoire dans la philosophie au XIXe siècle », ni sa thèse complémentaire qui portait sur le beau sujet « Ce que j’ai acquis d’expérience dans les arts et métiers de la typographie ». Ce qu’il cherchait n’était pas de paraître, c’était de tracer un sillon bien précis : l’éloge des vertus d’une ancienne France, celle des travailleurs, des artisans, des terriens. « C’est toujours le même système en France, on fait beaucoup pour les indigents, tout pour les riches, rien pour les pauvres », écrivait-il dans une lettre du 11 mars 1914.

Souvent au bord de la dépression, Péguy ne se ménageait guère. « Le suicide est pour moi une tentation dont je me défends avec un succès sans cesse décroissant », écrivait-il à un de ses amis. Il ne cherchait pas le confort pour lui-même : ni le confort moral ni le confort intellectuel. « Il y avait en ce révolutionnaire du révolté, écrivait son ami Maurice Reclus, et, ces jours-là, je ne pouvais m’empêcher de voir en Péguy une manière de Vallès – en beaucoup plus noble, évidemment, en beaucoup moins déclamateur et revendicateur, un Vallès sans bassesse, sans haine et sans envie, mais un Vallès tout de même. » Péguy prétendait être un auteur gai, et s’il n’était pas comique ni léger, il était quelque peu facétieux. Oui, cet homme avait la pudeur de la gaieté. Il ne cherchait jamais à être étincelant, mais il étincelait.

Ce que récuse Péguy, et là, il n’est pas modéré, c’est le modernisme. Le danger qu’il annonce, c’est « la peur de ne pas paraître assez avancé ». C’est pourquoi sa critique de l’obsession moderniste est souvent associée au regret des temps passés, alors qu’elle témoigne pour un autre avenir possible. « Mais comment ne pas regretter la sagesse d’avant, comment ne pas donner un dernier souvenir à cette innocence que nous ne reverrons plus. […] On ne parle aujourd’hui que de l’égalité. Et nous vivons dans la plus monstrueuse inégalité économique que l’on n’ait jamais vue dans l’histoire du monde. On vivait alors. On avait des enfants. Ils n’avaient aucunement cette impression que nous avons d’être au bagne. Ils n’avaient pas comme nous cette impression d’un étranglement économique, d’un collier de fer qui tient à la gorge et qui se serre tous les jours d’un cran. » (L’Argent). Deux semaines avant d’être tué, le 5 septembre 1914, Péguy était au front à la tête d’une compagnie. Il écrivait : « nous sommes sans nouvelles du monde depuis quatre jours. Nous vivons dans une sorte de grande paix. »

Pierre Le Vigan

Bibliographie:

Arnaud Teyssier, Charles Péguy, une humanité française, Perrin, 2008.

Romain Rolland, Péguy, Albin Michel, deux volumes, 1945.

Maurice Reclus, Le Péguy que j’ai connu, Hachette, 1951.

Bernard Guyon, Péguy, Hatier, 1960.

Charles Péguy, L’Argent (1913), réédité par les éditions des Équateurs.

Paru dans Flash, n° 67 du 2 juin 2011.

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Article printed from Europe Maxima: http://www.europemaxima.com

URL to article: http://www.europemaxima.com/?p=2012

Zinoviev's Homo Sovieticus: Communism as Social Entropy

Zinoviev’s “Homo Sovieticus”: Communism as Social Entropy

Tomislav Sunic

Ex: http://freespeechproject.com/

 

Students and observers of communism consistently encounter the same paradox: On the one hand they attempt to predict the future of communism, yet on the other they must regularly face up to a system that appears unusually static. At Academic gatherings and seminars, and in scholarly treatises, one often hears and reads that communist systems are marred by economic troubles, power sclerosis, ethnic upheavals, and that it is only a matter of time before communism disintegrates. Numerous authors and observers assert that communist systems are maintained in power by the highly secretive nomenklatura, which consists of party potentates who are intensely disliked by the entire civil society. In addition, a growing number of authors argue that with the so-called economic linkages to Western economies, communist systems will eventually sway into the orbit of liberal democracies, or change their legal structure to the point where ideological differences between liberalism and communism will become almost negligible.

The foregoing analyses and predictions about communism are flatly refuted by Alexander Zinoviev, a Russian sociologist, logician, and satirist, whose analyses of communist systems have gained remarkable popularity among European conservatives in the last several years.

According to Zinoviev, it is impossible to study communist systems without rigorous employment of appropriate methodology, training in logic, and a construction of an entirely new conceptual approach. Zinoviev contends that Western observers of communism are seriously mistaken in using social analyses and a conceptual framework appropriate for studying social phenomena in the West, but inappropriate for the analysis of communist systems. He writes:

A camel cannot exist if one places upon it the criteria of a hippopotamus. The opinion of those in the West who consider the Soviet society unstable, and who hope for its soon disintegration from within (aside that they take their desires for realities), is in part due to the fact that they place upon the phenomenon of Soviet society criteria of Western societies, which are alien to the Soviet society.

Zinoviev’s main thesis is that an average citizen living in a communist system -- whom he labels homo sovieticus -- behaves and responds to social stimuli in a similar manner to the way his Western counterpart responds to stimuli of his own social landscape. In practice this means that in communist systems the immense majority of citizens behave, live, and act in accordance with the logic of social entropy laid out by the dominating Marxist ideology. Contrary to widespread liberal beliefs, social entropy in communism is by no means a sign of the system’s terminal illness; in fact it is a positive sign that the system has developed to a social level that permits its citizenry to better cope with the elementary threats, such as wars, economic chaos, famines, or large-scale cataclysms. In short, communism is a system whose social devolution has enabled the masses of communist citizens to develop defensive mechanisms of political self-protection and indefinite biological survival. Using an example that recalls Charles Darwin and Konrad Lorenz, Zinoviev notes that less-developed species often adapt to their habitat better than species with more intricate biological and behavioral capacities. On the evolutionary tree, writes Zinoviev, rats and bugs appear more fragile than, for example, monkeys or dinosaurs, yet in terms of biological survivability, bugs and rats have demonstrated and astounding degree of adaptability to an endlessly changing and threatening environment. The fundamental mistake of liberal observers of communism is to equate political efficiency with political stability. There are political stability. There are political systems that are efficient, but are at the same time politically unstable; and conversely, there are systems which resilient to external threats. To illustrate the stability of communist systems, Zinoviev writes:

A social system whose organization is dominated by entropic principles possesses a high level od stability. Communist society is indeed such a type of association of millions of people in a common whole in which more secure survival, for a more comfortable course of life, and for a favorable position of success.

Zinoviev notes that to “believe in communism” by no means implies only the adherence to the ruling communist elite of the unquestionable acceptance of the communist credo. The belief in communism presupposes first and foremost a peculiar mental attitude whose historical realization has been made possible as a result of primordial egalitarian impulses congenial to all human beings. Throughout man’s biocultural evolution, egalitarian impulses have been held in check by cultural endeavors and civilizational constraints, yet with the advent of mass democracies, resistance to these impulses has become much more difficult. Here is how Zinoviev sees communism:

Civilization is effort; communality is taking the line if least resistance. Communism is the unruly conduct of nature’s elemental forces; civilization sets them rational bounds.

It is for this reason that it is the greatest mistake to think that communism deceives the masses or uses force on them. As the flower and crowning glory of communality, communism represents a type of society which is nearest and dearest to the masses no matter how dreadful the potential consequences for them might be.

Zinoviev refutes the widespread belief that communist power is vested only among party officials, or the so-called nomenklatura. As dismal as the reality of communism is, the system must be understood as a way of life shared by millions of government official, workers, and countless ordinary people scattered in their basic working units, whose chief function is to operate as protective pillars of the society. Crucial to the stability of the communist system is the blending of the party and the people into one whole, and as Zinoviev observes, “the Soviet saying the party and the people are one and the same, is not just a propagandistic password.” The Communist Party is only the repository of an ideology whose purpose is not only to further the objectives of the party members, but primarily to serve as the operating philosophical principle governing social conduct. Zinoviev remarks that Catholicism in the earlier centuries not only served the Pope and clergy; it also provided a pattern of social behavior countless individuals irrespective of their personal feelings toward Christian dogma. Contrary to the assumption of liberal theorists, in communist societies the cleavage between the people and the party is almost nonexistent since rank-and-file party members are recruited from all walks of life and not just from one specific social stratum. To speculate therefore about a hypothetical line that divides the rulers from the ruled, writes Zinoviev in his usual paradoxical tone, is like comparing how “a disemboweled and carved out animal, destined for gastronomic purposes, differs from its original biological whole.”

Admittedly, continues Zinoviev, per capita income is three to four times lower than in capitalist democracies, and as the daily drudgery and bleakness of communist life indicates, life under communism falls well short of the promised paradise. Yet, does this necessarily indicate that the overall quality in a communist society is inferior to that in Western countries? If one considers that an average worker in a communist system puts in three to four hours to his work (for which he usually never gets reprimanded, let alone fears losing his job), then his earnings make the equivalent of the earnings of a worker in a capitalist democracy. Stated in Marxist terminology, a worker in a communist system is not economically exploited but instead “takes the liberty” of allocating to himself the full surplus value of his labor which the state is unable to allocate to him. Hence this popular joke, so firmly entrenched in communist countries, which vividly explains the longevity of the communist way of life: “Nobody can pay me less than as little as I can work.”

Zinoviev dismisses the liberal reductionist perception of economics, which is based on the premise that the validity or efficiency of a country is best revieled by it high economic output or workers’ standard of living. In describing the economics of the Soviet Union, he observes that “the economy in the Soviet Union continues to thrive, regardless of the smart analyses and prognoses of the Western experts, and is in fact in the process of becoming stronger.” The endless liberal speculations about the future of communism, as well as the frequent evaluations about whether capitalist y resulted in patent failures. The more communism changes the more in fact it remains the same. Yet, despite its visible shortcomings, the communist ideal will likely continue to flourish precisely because it successfully projects the popular demand for security and predictability. By contrast, the fundamental weakness of liberal systems is that they have introduced the principles of security and predictability only theoretically and legally, but for reasons of economic efficiency, have so far been unable to put them into practice. For Claude Polin, a French author whose analyses of communist totalitarianism closely parallel Zinoviev’s views, the very economic inefficiency of communism paradoxically, “provides much more chances to [sic] success for a much larger number of individuals than a system founded on competition and reward of talents.” Communism, in short, liberates each individual from all social effort and responsibility, and its internal stasis only reinforces its awesome political stability.

TERROR AS THE METAPHOR
For Zinoviev, communist terror essentially operates according to the laws of dispersed communalism; that is, though the decentralization of power into the myriad of workers’ collectives. As the fundamental linchpins of communism, these collectives carry out not only coercive but also remunerative measures on behalf of and against their members. Upon joining a collective, each person becomes a transparent being who is closely scrutinized by his coworkers, yet at the same time enjoys absolute protection in cases of professional mistakes, absenteeism, shoddy work, and so forth. In such a system it is not only impossible but also counterproductive to contemplate a coup or a riot because the power of collectives is so pervasive that any attempted dissent is likely to hurt the dissenter more than his collective. Seen on the systemic level, Communist terror, therefore, does not emanate from one central source, but from a multitude of centers from the bottom to the top of society, whose foundations, in additions to myriad of collectives, are made up of “basic units,” brigades, or pioneer organizations. If perchance an individual or a group of people succeeds in destroying one center of power, new centers of power will automatically emerge. In this sense, the notion of “democratic centralism,” derided by many liberal observers as just another verbal gimmick of the communist meta-language, signifies a genuine example of egalitarian democracy -- a democracy in which power derives not from the party but from the people. Zinoviev notes:

Even if you wipe out half the population, the first thing that will be restored in the remaining half will be the system of power and administration. There, power is not organized to serve the population: the population is organized as a material required for the functioning of power.

Consequently, it does not appear likely that communism can ever be “improved,” at least not as Westerners understand improvement, because moral, political, and economic corruption of communism is literally spread throughout all pores of the society, and is in fact encouraged by the party elite on a day-to-day basis. The corruption among workers that takes the form of absenteeism, moonlighting, and low output goes hand in hand with corruption and licentiousness of party elite, so that the corruption of the one justifies and legitimatizes the corruption of the others. That communism is a system of collective irresponsibility is indeed not just an empty saying.

IN THE LAND OF THE “WOODEN LANGUAGE”
The corruption of language in communist societies is a phenomenon that until recently has not been sufficiently explored. According to an elaborate communist meta-language that Marxist dialecticians have skillfully developed over the last hundred years, dissidents and political opponents do not fall into the category of “martyrs,” or “freedom fighters” -- terms usually applied to them by Western well-wishers, yet terms are meaningless in the communist vernacular. Not only for the party elite, but for the overwhelming majority of people, dissidents are primarily traitors of democracy, occasionally branded as “fascist agents” or proverbial “CIA spies.” In any case, as Zinoviev indicates, the number of dissidents is constantly dwindling, while the number of their detractors is growing to astounding proportions. Moreover, the process of expatriation of dissidents is basically just one additional effort to dispose of undesirable elements, and thereby secure a total social consensus.

for the masses of citizens, long accustomed to a system circumventing al political “taboo themes,” the very utterance of the word dissident creates the feeling of insecurity and unpredictability. Consequently, before dissidents turn into targets of official ostracism and legal prosecution, most people, including their family members, will often go to great lengths to disavow them. Moreover, given the omnipotent and transparent character of collectives and distorted semantics, potential dissidents cannot have a lasting impact of society. After all, who wants to be associated with somebody who in the popular jargon is a nuisance to social peace and who threatens the already precarious socioeconomic situation of a system that has only recently emerged from the long darkness of terror? Of course, in order to appear democratic the communist media will often encourage spurious criticism of the domestic bureaucracy, economic shortages, or rampant mismanagement, but any serious attempt to question the tenets of economic determinism and the Marxist vulgate will quickly be met with repression. In a society premised on social and psychological transparency, only when things get out of hand, that is, when collectives are no longer capable of bringing a dissident to “his senses,” -- which at any rate is nowadays a relatively rare occurrence -- the police step in. Hence, the phenomenon of citizens’ self-surveillance, so typical of all communist societies, largely explains the stability of the system.

In conclusion, the complexity of the communist enigma remains awesome, despite some valid insights by sovietologists and other related scholars. In fact, one reason why the study of communist society is still embryonic may be ascribed to the constant proliferation of sovietologists, experts, and observers, who seldom shared a unanimous view of the communist phenomenon. Their true expertise, it appears, is not the analysis of the Soviet Union, but rather how to refute each other’s expertise on the Soviet Union. The merit of Zinoviev’s implacable logic is that the abundance of false diagnoses and prognoses of communism results in part from liberal’s own unwillingness to combat social entropy and egalitarian obsession on their own soil and within their own ranks. If liberal systems are truly interested in containing communism, they must first reexamine their own egalitarian premises and protocommunist appetites.

What causes communism? Why does communism still appear so attractive (albeit in constantly new derivatives) despite its obvious empirical bankruptcy? Why cannot purportedly democratic liberalism come to terms with its ideological opponents despite visible economic advantages? Probably on should first examine the dynamics of all egalitarian and economic beliefs and doctrines, including those of liberalism, before one starts criticizing the gulags and psychiatric hospitals.

Zinoviev rejects the notion that the Soviet of total political consolidation that can now freely permit all kinds of liberal experiments. After all, what threatens communism?

Regardless of what the future holds for communist societies, one must agree with Zinoviev that the much-vaunted affluence of the West is not necessarily a sign of Western stability. The constant reference to affluence as the sole criterion for judging political systems does not often seem persuasive. The received wisdom among (American) conservatives is that the United States must outgun or out spend the Soviet Union to convince the Soviets that capitalism is a superior system. Conservatives and others believe that with this show of affluence, Soviet leaders will gradually come to the conclusion that their systems is obsolete. Yet in the process of competition, liberal democracies may ignore other problems. If one settles for the platitude that the Soviet society is economically bankrupt, then one must also acknowledge that the United States is the world’s largest debtor and that another crash on Wall Street may well lead to the further appeal of various socialistic and pseudosocialist beliefs. Liberal society, despite its material advantages, constantly depends on its “self-evident” economic miracles. Such a society, particularly when it seeks peace at any price, may some day realize that there is also an impossibly high price to pay in order to preserve it.

[The World and I   (Washington Times Co.), June, 1989]

Mr. Sunic, a former US professor and a former Croat diplomat, holds a Ph.D. in political science. He is the author of several books. He currently resides in Europe.

http://doctorsunic.netfirms.com

Towards a New World Order: Carl Schmitt's "The LandAppropriation of a New World"

 

Towards a New World Order: Carl Schmitt's "The Land Appropriation of a New World"

Gary Ulmen

Ex: http://freespeechproject.com/

 

The end of the Cold War and of the bipolar division of the world has posed again the question of a viable international law grounded in a new world order. This question was already urgent before WWI, given the decline of the ius publicum Europaeum at the end of the 19th century. It resurfaced again after WWII with the defeat of the Third Reich. If the 20th century is defined politically as the period beginning with the "Great War" in 1914 and ending with the collapse of the Soviet empire in 1989, it may be seen as a long interval during which the question of a new world order was suspended primarily because of the confrontation and resulting stalemate between Wilsonianism and Leninism. Far from defining that period, as claimed by the last defenders of Left ideology now reconstituted as "anti-fascism," and despite their devastating impact at the time, within such a context fascism and Nazism end up automatically redimensioned primarily as epiphenomenal reactions of no lasting historical significance. In retrospect, they appear more and more as violent geopolitical answers to Wilsonianism's (and, to a lesser extent, Leninism's) failure to establish a new world order.

Both the League of Nations and the United Nations have sought to reconstitute international law and the nomos of the earth, but neither succeeded. What has passed for international law throughout the 20th century has been largely a transitory semblance rather than a true system of universally accepted rules governing international behavior. The geopolitical paralysis resulting from the unresolved conflict between the two superpowers created a balance of terror that provided the functional equivalent of a stable world order. But this state of affairs merely postponed coming to terms with the consequences of the collapse of the ius publicum Europaeum and the need to constitute a new world order. What is most significant about the end of the Cold War is not so much that it brought about a premature closure of the 20th century or a return to the geopolitical predicament obtaining before WWI, but that it has signaled the end of the modern age--evident in the eclipse of the nation state, the search for new political forms, the explosion of new types of conflicts, and radical changes in the nature of war. Given this state of affairs, today it may be easier to develop a new world order than at any time since the end of the last century.

At the beginning of the 20th century, Ernest Nys wrote that the discovery of the New World was historically unprecedented since it not only added an immense area to what Europeans thought the world was but unified the whole globe.(n1) It also resulted in the European equilibrium of land and sea that made possible the ius publicum Europaeum and a viable world order. In his "Introduction" to The Nomos of the Earth, Carl Schmitt observes that another event of this kind, such as the discovery of some new inhabitable planet able to trigger the creation of a new world order, is highly unlikely, which is why thinking "must once again be directed to the elemental orders of concrete terrestrial existence."(n2) Despite all the spatial exploration and the popular obsession with extra-terrestrial life, today there is no event in sight comparable to the discovery of a New World. Moreover, the end of the Cold War has paved the way for the further expansion of capitalism, economic globalization, and massive advances in communication technologies. Yet the imagination of those most concerned with these developments has failed so far to find any new alternatives to the prevailing thinking of the past decades.

Beyond the Cold War

The two most prominent recent attempts to prefigure a new world order adequate to contemporary political realities have been made by Francis Fukuyama and Samuel P. Huntington.(n3) Fukuyama thinks the West has not only won the Cold War but also brought about the end of history, while Huntington retreats to a kind of "bunker mentality" in view of an alleged decline of the West.(n4) While the one suffers from excessive optimism and the other from excessive pessimism, both fail primarily because they do not deal with the "elemental orders of concrete terrestrial existence" and troth remain trapped in an updated version of Wilsonianism assuming liberal democracy to be the highest achievement of Western culture. While Fukuyama wants to universalize liberal democracy in the global marketplace, If Huntington identifies liberalism with Western civilization. But Huntington is somewhat more realistic than Fukuyama. He not only acknowledges the impossibility of universalizing liberalism but exposes its particularistic nature. Thus he opts for a defense of Western civilization within an international helium omnium contra omnes. In the process, however, he invents an "American national identity" and extrapolates from the decline of liberal democracy to the decline of the West.

Fukuyama's thesis is derived from Alexandre Kojeve's Heideggerian reading of Hegel and supports the dubious notion that the last stage in human history will be a universal and homogeneous state of affairs satisfying all human needs. This prospect is predicated on the arbitrary assumption of the primacy of thymos--the desire for recognition--which both Kojeve and Fukuyama regard as the most fundamental human longing. Ultimately, according to Fukuyama, "Kojeve's claim that we are at the end of history . . . stands or falls on the strength of the assertion that the recognition provided by the contemporary liberal democratic state adequately satisfies the human desire for recognition."(n5) Fukuyama's own claim thus stands or falls on his assumption that at the end of history "there are no serious ideological competitors to liberal democracy."(n6) This conclusion is based on a whole series of highly dubious ideological assumptions, such as that "the logic of modern natural science would seem to dictate a universal evolution in the direction of capitalism"(n7) and that the desire for recognition "is the missing link between liberal economics and liberal politics."(n8)

According to Fukuyama, the 20th century has turned everyone into "historical pessimists."(n9) To reverse this state of affairs, he challenges "the pessimistic view of international relations . . . that goes variously under the titles 'realism,' realpolitik, or 'power politics'."(n10) He is apparently unaware of the difference between a pessimistic view of human nature, on which political realism is based, and a pessimistic view of international relations, never held by political realists such as Niccolo Machiavelli or Hans Morgenthau--two thinkers Fukuyama "analyzes" in order to "understand the impact of spreading democracy on international politics." As a "prescriptive doctrine," he finds the realist perspective on international relations still relevant. As a "descriptive model," however, it leaves much to be desired because: "There was no 'objective' national interest that provided a common thread to the behavior of states in different times and places, but a plurality of national interests defined by the principle of legitimacy in play and the individuals who interpreted it." This betrays a misunderstanding of political realism or, more plausibly, a deliberate attempt to misrepresent it in order to appear original. Although he draws different and even antithetical conclusions, Fukuyama's claim is not inconsistent with political realism.(n11)

Following this ploy, Fukuyama reiterates his main argument that: "Peace will arise instead out of the specific nature of democratic legitimacy, and its ability to satisfy the human longings for recognition."(n12) He is apparently unaware of the distinction between legality and legitimacy, and of the tendency within liberal democracies for legality to become its own mode of legitimation.(n13) Even in countries in which legality remains determined independently by a democratic legislative body, there is no reason to believe it will be concerned primarily or at all with satisfying any "human longing for recognition"; rather, it will pursue whatever goals the predominant culture deems desirable. Consequently, it does not necessarily follow that, were democratic legitimacy to become universalized with the end of the Cold War, international conflict would also end and history along with it. Even Fukuyama admits that: "For the foreseeable future, the world will be divided between a post-historical part, and a part that is still stuck in history. Within the post-historical part, the chief axis of interaction between states would be economic, and the old rules of power politics would have decreasing relevance."(n14)

This is nothing more than the reconfiguration of a standard liberal argument in a new metaphysical guise: the old historical world determined by politics will be displaced by the new post-historical world determined by economics. Schmitt rejected this argument in the 1920s: according to liberals, the "concept of the state should be determined by political means, the concept of society (in essence nonpolitical) by economic means," but this distinction is prejudiced by the liberal aversion to politics understood as a domain of domination and corruption resulting in the privileging of economics understood as "reciprocity of production and consumption, therefore mutuality, equality, justice, and freedom, and finally, nothing less than the spiritual union of fellowship, brotherhood, and justice."(n15) In effect, Fukuyama is simply recycling traditional liberal efforts to eliminate the political(n16)--a maneuver essential for his thesis of the arrival of "the end of history" with the end of the Cold War. Accordingly: "The United States and other liberal democracies will have to come to grips with the fact that, with the collapse of the communist world, the world in which they live is less and less the old one of geopolitics, and that the rules and methods of the historical world are not appropriate to life in the post-historical one. For the latter, the major issues will be economic."(n17) Responding to Walter Rathenau's claim in the 1920s that the destiny then was not politics but economics, Schmitt said "what has occurred is that economics has become political and thereby the destiny."(n18)

For Fukuyama, the old historical world is none other than the European world: "Imperialism and war were historically the product of aristocratic societies. If liberal democracy abolished the class distinction between masters and slaves by making the slaves their own masters, then it too should eventually abolish imperialism."(n19) This inference is based on a faulty analogy between social and international relations. Not surprisingly, Fukuyama really believes that "international law is merely domestic law writ large."(n20) Compounded with an uncritical belief in the theory of progress and teleological history, this leads him to generalize his own and Kojeve's questionable interpretation of the master-slave dialectic (understood as the logic of all social relations) to include international relations: "If the advent of the universal and homogeneous state means the establishment of rational recognition on the level of individuals living within one society, and the abolition of the relationship of lordship and bondage between them, then the spread of that type of state throughout the international system of states should imply the end of relationships of lordship and bondage between nations as well--i.e., the end of imperialism, and with it, a decrease in the likelihood of wars based on imperialism."(n21) Even if a "universal and homogeneous state" were possible today, in an age when all nation-states are becoming ethnically, racially, linguistically and culturally heterogeneous, it is unclear why domestic and international relations should be isomorphic. Rather, the opposite may very well be the case: increasing domestic heterogeneity is matched by an increasingly heterogeneous international scene where "the other" is not regarded as an equal but as "a paper tiger," "the Great Satan," "religious fanatics," etc.

At any rate, imperialism for Fukuyama is not a particular historical phenomenon which came about because of the discovery of the New World at the beginning of the age of exploration by the European powers. Rather, it is seen as the result of some metaphysical ahistorical "struggle for recognition among states."(n22) It "arises directly out of the aristocratic master's desire to be recognized as superior--his megalothymia."(n23) Ergo: "The persistence of imperialism and war after the great bourgeois revolutions of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is therefore due not only to the survival of an atavistic warrior ethos, but also to the fact that the master's megalothymia was incompletely sublimated into economic activity."(n24) Thus the formal market relation between buyer and seller, both reduced to the level of the hyper-rational and calculating homo oeconomicus, comes to displace the master-slave dialectic whereby, miraculously, the interaction between these economic abstractions generates as much recognition as anyone would want, rendering conflict obsolete and putting an end to history.

In terms of Fukuyama's own formulation, the real end of history, as he understands it, is not even close. In his scenario, since there are still a lot of unresolved conflicts between the historical and the post-historical worlds, there will be a whole series of "world order" problems and "many post-historical countries will formulate an abstract interest in preventing the spread of certain technologies to the historical world, on the grounds that world will be most prone to conflict and violence."(n25) Although the failure of the League of Nations and the UN has led to the general discrediting of "Kantian internationalism and international law," in the final analysis, despite his Heideggerian Hegelianism, Fukuyama does not find the answer to the end of history in Hegel, Nietzsche or even Kojeve,(n26) but rather in Kant, who argued that the gains realized when man moved from the state of nature to civilization were largely nullified by wars between nations. According to Fukuyama, what has not been understood is that "the actual incarnations of the Kantian idea have been seriously flawed from the start by not following Kant's own precepts," by which he means that states based on republican principles are less likely than despotisms to accept the costs of war and that an international federation is only viable if it is based on liberal principles.

Although Huntington has a much better grasp of international relations than Fukuyama, his decline of the West scenario is equally unconvincing. The central theme of his book is that "culture and cultural identities, which at the broadest level are civilization identities, are shaping the patterns of cohesion, disintegration, and conflict in the post-Cold War world."(n27) But whereas Fukuyama couches his thesis in terms of a universal desire for recognition, Huntington couches his thesis in terms of a global search for identity: "Peoples and nations are attempting to answer the most basic question humans can face: Who are we?"(n28) The result is a "multipolar and multi-civilizational" world within which the West should abandon its presumed universalism and defend its own particular identity: "In the clash of civilizations, Europe and America will hang together or hang separately. In the greater clash, the global 'real clash,' between Civilization and barbarism, the worlds great civilizations . . . will also hang together or hang separately. In the emerging era, clashes of civilizations are the greatest threat to world peace, and an international order based on civilizations is the surest safeguard against world war."(n29)

In Huntington's new world, "societies sharing civilizational affinities cooperate with each other."(n30) Leaving aside his cavalier blurring of the differences between cultures, civilizations and societies, what does Huntington regard as the essence of Western particularism? Here he is ambiguous: he first mentions Christianity, then some secular residues of Christianity, but when he adds up the civilizational core of the West it turns out to be none other than liberalism. As Stephen Holmes points out, it is "the same old ideology, plucked inexplicably from the waste-bin of history that once united the West against Soviet Communism."(n31) But Huntington also claims that the West had a distinct identity long before it was modern (since he insists that modernization is distinct from Westernization, so that non-Western societies can modernize without Westernizing, thus retaining their civilizational distinctiveness). In this case, however, the West cannot really be identified with liberalism, nor can its heritage be equated sic et nunc with "American national identity." While liberalism may very well be declining, this need not translate into a decline of the West as such. Similarly, if "American national identity" is threatened by "multiculturalism,"(n32) it need not signal the arrival of barbarians at the gates but may only mark another stage in the statist involution of liberalism. Huntington's fears of a decline of the West at a time when it is actually at the acme of its power and vigor is the result of the unwarranted identification of Western civilization with liberalism and what he understands by "American national identity." Today liberalism has degenerated into an opportunistic statist program of "a small but influential number of intellectuals and publicists," and "American national identity" into a fiction invented as part of a failed project after the War between the States to reconfigure the American federation into a nation-state.(n33)

According to Huntington? the assumption of the universality of Western culture is: false, because others civilizations have other ideals and norms; immoral, because "imperialism is the logical result of universalism"; and dangerous, because it could lead to major civilizational wars.(n34) His equation of universalism and imperialism, however, misses the point of both it misunderstands the philosophical foundations of Western culture and the historical roots of Western imperialism. Other civilizations do have their own ideals and norms, but only Western civilization has an outlook broad enough to embrace all other cultures, which explains why it can readily sponsor and accommodate even confused and counterproductive projects such as "multiculturalism." Of course, Europeans set forth on their journeys of discovery and conquest not only in order to bring Christianity and "civilization" to the world but also to plunder whatever riches they could find. But whatever the reasons, Europeans were the ones who opened the world to global consciousness and what Schmitt called "awakened occidental rationalism."

Until recently, largely because of American cultural hegemony and technological supremacy, the goal of the rest of the world has been "Westernization," which has come to be regarded as synonymous with modernization. In Huntington's "realist" view, however: "A universal civilization requires universal power. Roman power created a near universal civilization within the limited confines of the Classical world. Western power in the form of European colonialism in the nineteenth century and American hegemony in the twentieth century extended Western culture throughout much of the contemporary world. European colonialism is over; American hegemony is receding."(n35) The real question is whether continued American world hegemony is primarily a function of the persistence of colonialism. Despite his emphasis on culture and civilization, Huntington does not appreciate the importance of cultural hegemony.? Had he not restricted the Western tradition to late 20th century liberalism, he may have appreciated the extent to which the rest of the world is becoming increasingly more, rather than less dependent on the US--in communication technologies, financial matters and even aesthetic forms. Today the Internet is potentially a more formidable agency of cultural domination and control than was the British Navy at the peak of the Empire. Here McNeill is right: Huntington's gloomy perception of the decline of the West may merely mistake growing pains for death throes.

If Huntington's salon Spenglerianism were not bad enough, he also adopts a kind of simplistic Schmittianism (without ever mentioning Schmitt). Complementing his "birds of a feather flock together" concept of civilizations --with "core states" assuming a dominant position in relation to "fault line" states--he pictures an "us versus them" type of friend/enemy relations based on ethnic and religious identities. But Schmitt's friend/enemy antithesis is concerned with relations between political groups: first and foremost, states. Accordingly, any organized group that can distinguish between friends and enemies in an existential sense becomes thereby political. Unlike Huntington (or Kojeve, who also explicitly drew geopolitical lines primarily along religious lines(n36), Schmitt did not think in terms of ethnic or religious categories but rather territorial and geopolitical concepts. For Schmitt, the state was the greatest achievement of Western civilization because, as the main agency of secularization, it ended the religious civil wars of the Middle Ages by limiting war to a conflict between states.(n37) In view of the decline of the state, Schmitt analyzed political realities and provided a prognosis of possible future territorial aggregations and new types of political forms.

Huntington finds the "realist" school of international affairs "a highly useful starting point," but then proceeds to criticize a straw man version of it, according to which "all states perceive their interests in the same way and act in the same way." Against it, not only power but also "values, culture, and institutions pervasively influence how states define their interests.... In the post-Cold War world, states increasingly define their interests in civilizational terms."(n38) Had Huntington paid more careful attention to hans Morgenthau, George Kennan or other reputable political realists, he would have concluded that their concept of power is not as limited as his caricature of it. In particular, had he read Schmitt more closely he would not have claimed that nation-states "are and will remain the most important actors in world affairs"(n39)--at a time when economic globalization has severely eroded their former sovereignty and they are practically everywhere threatened with internal disintegration and new geopolitical organizations. At any rate, political realism has been concerned primarily with the behavior of states because they were the main subjects of political life for the past three centuries.(n40) If and when they are displaced by other political forms, political realism then shifts its focus accordingly.

Huntington attempts to think beyond the Cold War. But since he cannot think beyond the nation-state, he cannot conceive of new political forms. When he writes that cultural commonality "legitimates the leadership and order-imposing role of the core state for both member states and for the external powers and institutions,"(n41) he seems to have in mind something akin to the concept of GroBraum.(n42) But Schmitt's model was the American Monroe Doctrine excluding European meddling in the Western Hemisphere. At that time (and well into the 20th century), the US was not a nation-state in the European sense, although it assumed some of these trappings thereafter. Thus it generally followed George Washington's policy--because of the "detached and distant situation" of the US, it should avoid entangling alliances with foreign (primarily European) powers. The Monroe Doctrine simply expanded on the reality and advantages of this situation. Schmitt rightly saw the global line of the Western Hemisphere drawn by the Monroe Doctrine as the first major challenge to the international law of the ius publicum Europaeum.

Given the current understanding of national sovereignty, it is difficult to see what Huntington means by "core state." Despite the title of his book, he has no concept of international law or of world order. Not only does he abandon hope for global regulations governing the behavior of states and civilizations, but he reverts to a kind of anthropological primitivism: "Civilizations are the ultimate human tribes, and the clash of civilizations is tribal conflict on a global scale."(n43) All he can suggest for avoiding major inter-civilizational wars is the "abstention rule" (core states abstain from conflicts in other civilizations), and the "mediation rule" (core states negotiate with each other to halt fault line wars).(n44) Huntington's vision is thus surprisingly conformist--it merely cautions the US from becoming embroiled in the Realpolitik of countries belonging to other civilizational blocs while defending a contrived liberal notion of"Western" civilization.

Anti-Colonialism and Appropriation
The anti-colonialism of both Fukuyama and Huntington is consistent with the predominant 20th century ideology directed primarily against Europe. Anti-colonialism is more historically significant than either anti-fascism and anti-communism. As Schmitt pointed out in 1962: "Both in theory and practice, anti-colonialism has an ideological objective. Above all, it is propaganda--more specifically, anti-European propaganda. Most of the history of propaganda consists of propaganda campaigns which, unfortunately, began as internal European squabbles. First there was France's and England's anti-Spanish propaganda--the leyenda negra of the 15th and 16th centuries. Then this propaganda became generalized during the 18th century. Finally, in the historical view of Arnold Toynbee, a UN consultant, the whole of Europe is indicted as a world aggressor."(n45) Thus it is not surprising that the 500th anniversary of the "discovery" of America was greeted with more condemnation than celebration.(n46)

Anti-colonialism is primarily anti-European propaganda because it unduly castigates the European powers for having sponsored colonialism.(n47) Given that there was no international law forbidding the appropriation of the newly discovered lands--in fact, European international and ecclesiastical law made it legal and established rules for doing so--the moral and legal basis for this judgment is unclear. On closer analysis, however, it turns out to be none other than the West's own universalistic pretenses. Only by ontologizing their particular Western humanist morality--various versions of secularized Christianity--as universally valid for all times and all places can Western intellectuals indict colonialism after the fact as an international "crime." Worse yet, this indictment eventually turns into a wholesale condemnation of Western culture (branded as "Eurocentrism") from an abstract, deterritorialized and deracinated humanist perspective hypostatized to the level of a universally binding absolute morality. Thus the original impulse to vindicate the particularity and otherness of the victims of colonialism turns full circle by subsuming all within a foreign Western frame-work, thereby obliterating the otherness of the original victims. The ideology of anti-colonialism is thus not only anti-European propaganda but an invention of Europeans themselves, although it has been appropriated wholesale and politically customized by the rest of the world.

As for world order, this propaganda has even more fundamental roots: "The odium of colonialism, which today confronts all Europeans, is the odium of appropriation,"(n48) since now everything understood as nomos is allegedly concerned only with distribution and production, even though appropriation remains one of its fundamental, if not the most fundamental, attributes. As Schmitt notes: "World history is a history of progress in the means and methods of appropriation: from land appropriations of nomadic and agricultural-feudal times, to sea appropriations of the 16th and 17th centuries, to the industrial appropriations of the industrial-technical age and its distinction between developed and undeveloped areas, to the present day appropriations of air and space."(n49) More to the point, however, is that "until now, things have somehow been appropriated, distributed and produced. Prior to every legal, economic and social order, prior to every legal, economic or social theory, there is the simple question: Where and how was it appropriated? Where and how was it divided? Where and how was it produced ? But the sequence of these processes is the major problem. It has often changed in accordance with how appropriation, distribution and production are emphasized and evaluated practically and morally in human consciousness. The sequence and evaluation follow changes in historical situations and general world history, methods of production and manufacture--even the image human beings have of themselves, of their world and of their historical situation."(n50) Thus the odium of appropriation exemplified by the rise of anti-colonialism is symptomatic of a changed world situation and changed attitudes. But this state of affairs should not prevent our understanding of what occurred in the past or what is occurring in the present.

In order to dispel the "fog of this anti-European ideology," Schmitt recalls that "everything that can be called international law has for centuries been European international law. . . [and that] all the classical concepts of existing international law are those of European international law, the ius publicum Europaeum. In particular, these are the concepts of war and peace. as well as two fundamental conceptual distinctions: first, the distinction between war and peace, i.e., the exclusion of an in-between situation of neither war nor peace so characteristic of the Cold War; and second, the conceptual distinction between enemy and criminal, i.e. exclusion of the discrimination and criminalization of the opponent so characteristic of revolutionary war--a war closely tied to the Cold War."(n51) But Schmitt was more concerned with the "spatial" aspect of the phenomenon: "What remains of the classical ideas of international law has its roots in a purely Eurocentric spatial order. Anti-colonialism is a phenomenon related to its destruction.... Aside from ... the criminalization of European nations, it has not generated one single idea about a new order. Still rooted, if only negatively, in a spatial idea, it cannot positively propose even the beginning of a new spatial order."(n52)

Having discovered the world as a globe, Europeans also developed the Law of Nations. Hugo Grotius is usually credited with establishing this new discipline with his De lure belli ac pacts (Paris: 1625), since he was the first to deal with the subject as a whole (although various European scholars had dealt at length with themes such as the justice of war, the right of plunder, the treatment of captives, etc.). Nys writes: ". . . from the I 1th to the 1 2th century the genius of Europe developed an association of republics, principalities and kingdoms, which was the beginning of the society of nations. Undoubtedly, some elements of it had been borrowed from Greek and Roman antiquity, from Byzantine institutions, from the Arabo-Berber sultanates on the coast of Africa and from the Moorish kingdoms of Spain. But at the time new sentiments developed, longing for political liberty. The members of this association were united by religious bonds; they had the same faith; they were not widely separated by speech and, at any rate, they had access to Latin, the language of the Church; they admitted a certain equality or at least none of them claimed the right to dominate and rule over the others. A formula came into use to describe this state of affairs: respublica a Christiana, res Christina."(n53)

Steeped in Roman law, 1 3th and 1 4th century jurists opposed any "Law of Nations" recognizing political distinctions between different peoples. In the Roman system, different peoples were only "parts of the Roman Empire." Thus, in a wider sense, ius gentium extended to all civilized peoples and included both public and private law. In a narrower sense, however, it also dealt with the rules governing relations between Romans and foreigners. Understood in this narrower sense, ius gentium promoted the constitution of distinct peoples and consequently kingdoms, intercourse and conflicts between different political communities, and ultimately wars. For this reason, those who still believed in the viability of the Holy Roman Empire thought that this interpretation of ius gentium led to disintegration. This is why the Law of Nations--European public law and international law--did not become a distinct "science" until the Middle Ages.

Spanish theologians first articulated the theoretical and practical problems of ius gentium understood as the Law of Nations. Chief among them was Francisco de Vitoria, whose Relectiones theologicae on the Indians and the right of a "just war" have become classics.(n54) In his lectures, Vitoria invokes the Law of Nations--the ius gentium. At the beginning of the third section of his account of the Spaniards' relations with the aborigines in the New World, he treats them as one people among others, and therefore subject to ius gentium: "The Spaniards have a right to travel into the lands in question and to sojourn there, provided they do no harm to the natives, and the natives may not prevent them. Proof of this may in the first place be derived from the law of nations (ius gentium), which either is natural law or is derived from natural law."(n55) That he understands peoples in the sense of "nations" becomes even more clear when he speaks about gentes nationes. He distinguishes between the political community--the respublica--and the private individual. The latter may defend his person and his property, but he may not avenge wrongs or retake goods after the passage of time. This is the respublica's prerogative--it alone has authority to defend itself and its members. Here Vitoria identifies the prince's authority with that of the state: "The prince is the issue of the election made by the respublica.... The state, properly so called, is a perfect community, that is to say, a community which forms a whole in itself, which, in other words, is not a part of another community, but which possesses its own laws, its own council, its own magistrates."(n56)

Clearly, what developed in Europe from antiquity to the respublica Christiana, from the origin of the sovereign state and ius publicum Europaeum to the Enlightenment and beyond, was as unique and significant as the discovery of the "New World." Yet, given today's predominant ideology, European culture has almost become the truth that dare not speak its name. Not only is Columbus demonized, but the whole Age of Discovery and all of European (Western) culture is dismissed as "imperialistic," "racist?" "sexist," etc. The Nomos of the Earth is a much needed antidote to this anti-European propaganda, which is only a symptom of the crisis of European identity and consciousness.(n57) All the major themes of Schmitt's book are either implicit or explicit in "The Land Appropriation of a New World": the origin and significance of the European and Eurocentric epoch of world history; the discovery of the New World and the American challenge to the European order; the search for a new nomos of the earth; the critique of the discriminatory concept of war; the critique of universalism and the danger of total relativism.

The Conquest of America and the Concept of a "Just War"

In the 20th century, the ideology of anti-colonialism was articulated most prominently by Woodrow Wilson and Vladimir Lenin, signaling the end of European domination in world history. Now, after the collapse of the Soviet Union and the end of communism, some American intellectuals have turned this anti-European propaganda against the US, seemingly unaware that their critique is possible only within the orbit of the European culture they otherwise castigate and dismiss. To attack European culture is tantamount to attacking American culture as well, since the latter is but a special case of the former, which is precisely why it has been able to accept and absorb peoples and influences not only from the Western hemisphere but from all over the world. American universalism is but an extension of that same Christian universalism which for centuries has defined European identity. As Schmitt emphasized, the European equilibrium of the ius publicum Europaeum presupposed a seemingly homogeneous Christian Europe, which lasted well into the 19th century. The American project has always been a fundamentally heterogeneous undertaking and Americans have always come from the most diverse ethnic, racial, religious and linguistic backgrounds. But if there had not been some homogeneous culture to unity this diversity, there would have been no distinct American culture which, unfortunately, today many educated Europeans and Americans no longer understand and therefore have come to despise.

A paradigmatic example of this general anti-European syndrome is Tzvetan Todorov's The Conquest of America. In an effort to vindicate the particularity of "the other," the author ends up castigating West European culture as a whole by deploying a secularized version of Christian universalism. Openly acknowledging the moralistic objectives and "mythological" character of his account,(n58) Todorov develops a "politically correct" postmodern interpretation of the Spanish conquista not to understand its historical significance but to show how it has shaped today's Western imperialist identity--one allegedly still unable to come to terms with "the other" and therefore inherently racist, ethnocentric, etc. The book closes with a discussion of "Las Casas' Prophesy" concerning the wrath that "God will vent" not only upon Spain but all of Western Europe because of its "impious, criminal and ignominious deeds perpetrated so unjustly, tyrannically and barbarously."(n59)

Todorov overlooks not only the generally religious framework of Las Casas' prophesy, but also the idiosyncratically Western concept of justice the Dominican bishop deployed. Having ontologized a humanism derived from the Western axiological patrimony, he does not realize the extent to which his postmodernism has already reduced "the other" to "the same," precisely in his effort to vindicate its particularity.(n60) Worse yet, inhibited by his "politically correct" moralism, he not only provides a ridiculous, if academically fashionable, explanation for the Spaniards' success,(n61) but he manages to subvert his own arguments with the very evidence he adduces to support them. He claims that the "present" is more important to him than the past, but in defining genocide he makes no reference whatsoever to either the Armenians or the Holocaust as reference points. Consequently, his claim that "the sixteenth century perpetuated the greatest genocide in human history"(n62) remains not only unsubstantiated but falsified. By his own account, most of the victims died of diseases and other indirect causes: "The Spaniards did not undertake a direct extermination of these millions of Indians, nor could they have done so." The main causes were three, and "the Spaniards responsibility is inversely proportional to the number of victims deriving from each of them: 1. By direct murder, during wars or outside them: a high number, nonetheless relatively small; direct responsibility. 2. By consequence of bad treatment: a high number; a (barely) less direct responsibility. 3. By diseases, by `microbe shock': the majority of the population; an indirect and diffused responsibility."(n63)

Todorov does acknowledge that Columbus was motivated by the "universal victory of Christianity" and that it was Columbus' medieval mentality that led him "to discover America and inaugurate the modern era."(n64) His greatest infraction, however, was that he conquered land rather than people, i.e., he was more interested in nature than in the Indians, which he is treated as "the other", "Columbus summary perception of the Indians [is] a mixture of authoritarianism and condescension . . . In Columus' hermeneutics human beings have no particular place."(n65) Had Todorov set aside his abstract moralizing, he may have realized that the conquest of the New World was primarily a land appropriation. It is not surprising, therefore, that the conquerors thought they were bringing "civilization" to those they conquered--something probably also true of the Mongols who invaded and colonized China, Russia and a few other which, by contrast, had higher than thier own.

The ideological slant of The Conquest of America is by no means unusual. Long before, Schmitt noted that non-European peoples who have undertaken conquest, land appropriations, etc. were not being tarred with the same brush as Europeans.(n66) Unlike Todorov's moralistic tirade, The Nomos of the Earth is dressed to historians and jurists. In no ways does Schmitt excuse the atrocities committed by the Spanish, but rather explains how they were possible in the given circumstances. "The Land Appropriation of a New World" begins with a discussion of the lines drawn by the European powers to divide the world. In this connection, Schmitt discusses the meaning of "beyond the line," which meant beyondn the reach of European law: " At this`line' Europe ended and `New World' began. At any rate, European law -- `European public law' -- ended. Consequently, so did the bracketing of war achieved by the former European international law, meaning the struggle for land appropriations knew no bounds. Beyond the line was an `overseas' zone in which, for want of any legal limits to war, only, the law of the stronger applied."n(67) For Todorov, it is a much simpler explanation: "Far from central government, far from royal law, all prohibitions give way, the social link, already loosened, snaps, revealing not a primitive nature, the beast sleeping in each of us, but a modern being? one with a great future in fact, restrained by no morality and inflicting death because and when he pleases."(n68) The Spaniards are simply racist, ethno-centric, ruthless exploiters, etc., i.e., modern -- they already exhibited traits Todorov claims are characteristic of Western identity.

Of particular interest here are Todorov's comments on Vitoria and the concept of a "just war," since most of Schmitt's chapter is devoted to these subjects. By his own admission, Todorov mixes (in fact, confuses) medieval and modern categories. This is particularly true in the case of Vitoria. Todorov observes that: "Vitoria demolishes the contemporary justifications of the wars waged in America, but nonetheless conceives that `just wars' are possible."(n69) More to the point: "We are accustomed to seeing Vitoria as a defender of the Indians; but if we question, not the subject's intentions, hut the impact of his discourses, it is clear that . . . under the cover of an international law based on reciprocity, he in reality supplies a legal basis to the wars of colonization which had hitherto had none (none which, in any case, might withstand serious consideration)."(n70) But there was no "international law based on reciprocity." Here Todorov is simply transposing modern categories to medieval matters for his own ideological purposes.

Unlike Todorov, Schmitt places the problem in perspective: "For 400 years, from the 16th to the 20th century, the structure of European international law was determined by a fundamental course of events the conquest of the New World. Then, as later, there were numerous positions taken with respect to the justice or injustice of the conquista. Nevertheless, the fundamental problem the justification of European land appropriations as a whole -- was seldom addressed in any systematic way outside moral and legal questions. In fact, only one monograph deals with this problem systematically and confronts it squarely in terms of international law.... It is the famous relectiones of Francisco de Vitoria."(n71) Vitoria rejected the contrary opinions of other theologians and treated Christians and non-Christians alike. He did not even accept discovery, which was the recognized basis of legal title from the 1 6th to the 1 8th century, as legitimate. More to the point, he considered global lines beyond which the distinction between justice and injustice was suspended not only a sin but an appalling crime. However: "Vitoria's view of the conquista was ultimately altogether positive. Most significant for him was the fait accompli of Christianization. . . . The positive conclusion is reached only by means of general concepts and with the aid of objective arguments in support of a just war.... If barbarians opposed the right of free passage and free missions, of liberum commercium and free propaganda, then they would violate the existing rights of the Spanish according to ius gentium; if the peaceful treaties of the Spanish were of no avail, then they had grounds for a just war."(n72)

The papal missionary mandate was the legal foundation of the conquista. This was not only the pope's position but also that of the Catholic rulers of Spain. Vitoria's arguments were entirely consistent with the spatial order and the international law of the respublica Christiana. One cannot apply modern categories to a medieval context without distorting both: "In the Middle Ages, a just war could he a just war of aggression. Clearly, the formal structure of the two concepts of justice are completely different. As far as the substance of medieval justice is concerned, however, it should be remembered that Vitoria's doctrine of a just war is argued on the basis of a missionary mandate issued by a potestas spiritualis that was not only institutionally stable but intellectually self-evident. The right of liberum commercium as well as the ius peregrinandi are to facilitate the work of Christian missions and the execution of the papal missionary mandate.... Here we are interested only in the justification of land appropriation--a question Vitoria reduced to the general problem of a just war. All significant questions of an order based on international law ultimately meet in the concept of a just war."(n73)

 

 

The Question of a New Nomos of the Earth

Following chapters on "The Land Appropriation of a New World" and "The Ius Publicum Europaeum," Schmitt concludes his book with a chapter titled "The Question of a New Nomos of the Earth, which is concerned primarily with the transformation of the concept of war. Clearly, this problem was uppermost in Schmitt's mind following Germany's total defeat in WWII and the final destruction of the European system of states. But he had already devoted a treatise to the development of a discriminatory concept of war following WWI,(n74) and in 1945 he wrote a legal opinion on the criminality of aggressive war.(n75) Despite whatever self-serving motives he may have had in writing these works,(n76) they are consistent with the historical and juridical structure of international law during the respublica Christiana, the ius publicum Europaeum, and what remains of international law today.

This progression can be put into perspective by following Schmitt's discussion of Vitoria's legacy: "Vitoria was in no sense one of the `forerunners of modern lawyers dealing with constitutional questions.'. . . Abstracted entirely from spatial viewpoints, Vitoria's ahistorical method generalizes many European historical concepts specific to the ius gentium of the Middle Ages (such as yolk prince and war) and thereby strips them of their historical particularity."(n77) In this context, Schmitt mentions the works of Ernest Nys, which paved the way for the popularization of Vitoria's ideas after WWI but who, because of his belief in humanitarian progress, also contributed to the criminalization of aggressive war. This was also true of James Brown Scott, the leading American expert on international law, who blatantly instrumentalized Vitoria's doctrines concerning free trade (liberum commercium, the freedom of propaganda, and a just war) to justify American economic imperialism. Schmitt sums up Sctott's argument as follows: "War should cease to be simply a legally recognized matter or only one of legal indifference; rather, it should again become a just war in which the aggressor as such is declared a felon in the full criminal sense of the word. The former right to neutrality, grounded in the international law of the ius publicum Europaeum and based on the equivalence of just and unjust war, should also and accordingly be eliminated."(n78)

Here then is the crux of the matter. Vitoria's thinking is based on the international law obtaining during the Christian Middle Ages rather than on the international law between states established with the ius publicum Europaeum. Moreover, as Schmitt points out, Vitoria was not a jurist but a theologian: "Based on relations between states, post-medieval international law from the 1 6th to the 20th century sought to repress the iusta causa. The formal reference point for the determination of a just war was no longer the authority of the Church in international law but rather the equal sovereignty of states. Instead of iusta causa, the order of international law between states was based on iustus hostis; any war between states, between equal sovereigns, was legitimate. On the basis of this juridical formalization, a rationalization and humanization--a bracketing--of war was achieved for 200 years." The turn to "the modern age in the history of international law was accomplished by a dual division of two lines of thought that were inseparable in the Middle Ages -- the definitive separation of moral-theological from juridical-political arguments and the equally important separation of the question of iusta causa, grounded in moral arguments and natural law," from the juridical question of iustus hostis, distinguished from the criminal, i.e., from object of punitive action."(n79)

With the end of the ius publicum Europaeum, the concept of war changed once again: moralistic (rather than theologically-based) arguments became confused with political arguments, and the iusta causa displaced the just enemy (iustus hostis). Accordingly, war became a crime and the aggressor a criminal, which means that the current distinction between just and unjust war lacks any relation to Vitoria and does not even attempt to determine the iusta causa.(n80) According to Schmitt: "If today some formulas of the doctrine of a just war rooted in the concrete order of the medieval respublica Christiana are utilized in modern and global formulas, this does not signify a return to, but rather a fundamental transformation of concepts of enemy, war, concrete order and justice presupposed in medieval doctrine."(n81) This transformation is crucial to any consideration of a new nomos of the earth because these concepts must be rooted in a concrete order. Lacking such an order or nomos, these free-floating concepts do not constitute institutional standards but have only the value of ideological slogans.

Unimpressed with the duration of the Cold War and its mixture of neither war nor peace, Schmitt speculated on the possibility of the eventual development of what he called GroBetaraume(n82) -- larger spatial entities, similar to but not synonymous with federations or blocs --displacing states and constituting a new nomos.(n83) Since his death in 1985 and the subsequent collapse of communism, the likelihood of his diagnosis and prognosis has increased. While the international situation remains confused and leading intellectuals such as Fukuyama and Huntington, unable to think behind predominant liberal democratic categories, can only recycle new versions of the old Wilsonianism, Schmitt's vision of a world of GroBetaraume as a new geopolitical configuration may well be in the process of being realized.

Schopenhauer: el primer golpe a la Ilustracion

 

 

Schopenhauer: el primer golpe a la Ilustración

 

Alberto Buela (*)

 

En Arturo Schopenhauer (1788-1860) toda su filosofía se apoya en Kant y forma parte del idealismo alemán pero lo novedoso es que sostiene dos rasgos existenciales antitéticos con ellos: es un pesimista  y no es un profesor a sueldo del Estado. Esto último deslumbró a Nietzsche.

Hijo de un gran comerciante de Danzig, su posición acomodada lo liberó de las dos servidumbres de su época para los filósofos: la teología protestante o la docencia privada. Se educó a través de sus largas estadías en Inglaterra, Francia e Italia (Venecia). Su apetito sensual, grado sumo, luchó siempre la serena  reflexión filosófica. Su soltería y misoginia nos recuerda el tango: en mi vida tuve muchas minas pero nunca una mujer. En una palabra, conoció la hembra pero no a la mujer.

Ingresa en la Universidad de Gotinga donde estudia medicina, luego frecuenta a Goethe, sigue cursos en Berlín con Fichte y se doctora en Jena con una tesis sobre La cuádruple raíz del principio de razón suficiente en 1813.

En 1819 publica su principal obra El mundo como voluntad y representación y toda su producción posterior no va ha ser sino un comentario aumentado y corregido de ella. Nunca se retractó de nada ni nunca cambió. Obras como La voluntad en la naturaleza (1836),  Libertad de la voluntad (1838), Los dos problemas fundamentales de la ética (1841) son simples escolios a su única obra principal.

Sobre él ha afirmado el genial Castellani: “Schopen es malo, pero simpático. No fue católico por mera casualidad. Y fue lástima porque tenía ala calderoniana y graciana, a quienes tradujo. Pero fue  “antiprotestante” al máximo, como Nietzsche, lo cual en nuestra opinión no es poco…Tuvo dos fallas: fue el primer filósofo existencial sin ser teólogo y quiso reducir a la filosofía aquello que pertenece a la teología” [1]

En 1844 reedita su trabajo cumbre, aunque no se habían vendido aun los ejemplares de su primera edición, llevando los agregados al doble la edición original.

Nueve años antes de su muerte publica dos tomos pequeños Parerga y Parilepómena, ensayos de acceso popular donde trata de los más diversos temas, que tienen muy poco que ver con su obra principal, pero que le dan una cierta popularidad al ser los más leídos de sus libros. Al final de sus días Schopenhauer gozó del reconocimiento que tanto buscó y que le fue esquivo.

Schopenhauer siguió los cursos de Fichte en Berlín varios años y como “el fanfarrón”, así lo llama, parte y depende también de Kant.

Así, ambos reconocen que el mérito inmortal de la crítica kantiana de la razón es haber establecido, de una vez y para siempre, que los entes, el mundo de las cosas que percibimos por los sentidos y reproducimos en el espíritu, no es el mundo en sí sino nuestro mundo, un producto de nuestra organización psicofísica.

La clara distinción en Kant entre sensibilidad y entendimiento pero donde el entendimiento no puede separarse realmente de los sentidos y refiere a una causa exterior la sensación que aparece bajo las formas de espacio y tiempo, viene a explicar a los entes, las cosas como fenómenos pero no como “cosas en sí”.

Muy acertadamente observa Silvio Maresca que: “Ante sus ojos- los de Schopenhauer- el romanticismo filosófico y el idealismo (Fichte-Hegel) que sucedieron casi enseguida a la filosofía kantiana, constituían una tergiversación de ésta. ¿Por qué? Porque abolían lo que según él era el principio fundamental: la distinción entre los fenómenos y la cosa en sí”.[2]

Fichte a través de su Teoría de la ciencia va a sostener que el no-yo (los entes exteriores) surgen en el yo legalmente pero sin fundamento. No existe una tal cosa en sí. El mundo sensible es una realidad empírica que está de pie ahí. La ciencia de la naturaleza es necesariamente materialista. Schopenhauer es materialista, pero va a afirmar: Toda la imagen materialista del mundo, es solo representación, no “cosa en sí”. Rechaza la tesis que todo el mundo fenoménico sea calificado como un producto de la actividad inconciente del yo. ¿Que es este mundo además de mi representación?, se pregunta. Y responde que se debe partir del hombre que es lo dado y de lo más íntimo de él, y eso debe ser a su vez lo más íntimo del mundo y esto es la voluntad. Se produce así en Schopenhauer un primado de lo práctico sobre lo teórico.

La voluntad es, hablando en kantiano “la cosa en sí” ese afán infinito que nunca termina de satisfacerse, es “el vivir” que va siempre al encuentro de nuevos problemas. Es infatigable e inextinguible.

La voluntad no es para el pesimista de Danzig la facultad de decidir regida por la razón como se la entiende regularmente sino sólo el afán, el impulso irracional que comparten hombre y mundo. “Toda fuerza natural es concebida per analogiam con aquello que en nosotros mismos conocemos como voluntad”.

Esa voluntad irracional para la que el mundo y las cosas son solo un fenómeno no tiene ningún objetivo perdurable sino sólo aparente (por trabajar sobre fenómenos) y entonces todo objetivo logrado despierta nuevas necesidades (toda satisfacción tiene como presupuesto el disgusto de una insatisfacción) donde el no tener ya nada que desear preanuncia la muerte o la liberación.

Porque el más sabio es el que se percata que la existencia es una sucesión de sin sabores que no conduce a nada y se desprende del mundo. No espera la redención del progreso y solo practica la no-voluntad.

El pesimista de Danzig al identificar la voluntad irracional con la “cosa en sí” puede afirmar sin temor que “lo real es irracional y lo irracional es lo real” con lo que termina invirtiendo la máxima hegeliana “todo lo racional es real y todo lo real es racional”. Es el primero del los golpes mortales que se le aplicará  al racionalismo iluminista, luego vendrá Nietzsche y más tarde Scheler y Heidegger. Pero eso ya es historia conocida. Salute.

 

Post Scriptum: 

Schopenhauer en sus últimos años- que además de hablar correctamente en italiano, francés e inglés, hablaba, aunque con alguna dificultad, en castellano. La hispanofilia de Schopenhauer se reconoce en toda su obra pues cada vez que cita, sobre todo a Baltasar Gracián (1601-1658), lo hace en castellano. Aprendió el español para traducir el opúsculo Oráculo manual (1647). También cita a menudo El Criticón a la que considera “incomparable”. Existe actualmente en Alemania y desde hace unos quince años una revista de pensamiento no conformista denominada “Criticón”. También cita y traduce a Calderón de la Barca.

Miguel de Unamuno fue el primero que realizó algunas traducciones parciales del filósofo de Danzig, como corto pago para una deuda hispánica con él. En Argentina ejerció influencia sobre Macedonio Fernández y sobre su discípulo Jorge Luis Borges. Tengo conocimiento de dos buenos artículos sobre Schopenhauer en nuestro país: el del cura Castellani (Revista de la Universidad de Buenos Aires, cuarta época, Nº 16, 1950) y el mencionado de Maresca.

 

(*) [e-mail]   www.disenso.org

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[1] Castellani, Leonardo: Schopenhaue, en Revista de la Universidad de Buenos Aires, cuarta época, Nº 16, 1950, pp.389-426

[2] Maresca, Silvio: En la senda de Nietzsche, Catálogos, Buenos Aires, 1991, p. 20

Carl Schmitt's Decisionism

Carl Schmitt's Decisionism

Paul Hirst

Ex: http://freespeechproject.com/

 

Since 1945 Western nations have witnessed a dramatic reduction in the variety of positions in political theory and jurisprudence. Political argument has been virtually reduced to contests within liberal-democratic theory. Even radicals now take representative democracy as their unquestioned point of departure. There are, of course, some benefits following from this restriction of political debate. Fascist, Nazi and Stalinist political ideologies are now beyond the pale. But the hegemony of liberal-democratic political agreement tends to obscure the fact that we are thinking in terms which were already obsolete at the end of the nineteenth century.

Nazism and Stalinism frightened Western politicians into a strict adherence to liberal democracy. Political discussion remains excessively rigid, even though the liberal-democratic view of politics is grossly at odds with our political condition. Conservative theorists like Hayek try to re-create idealized political conditions of the mid nineteenth century. In so doing, they lend themselves to some of the most unsavoury interests of the late twentieth century - those determined to exploit the present undemocratic political condition. Social-democratic theorists also avoid the central question of how to ensure public accountability of big government. Many radicals see liberal democracy as a means to reform, rather than as what needs to be reformed. They attempt to extend governmental action, without devising new means of controlling governmental agencies. New Right thinkers have reinforced the situation by pitting classical liberalism against democracy, individual rights against an interventionist state. There are no challenges to representative democracy, only attempts to restrict its functions. The democratic state continues to be seen as a sovereign public power able to assure public peace.

The terms of debate have not always been so restricted. In the first three decades of this century, liberal-democratic theory and the notion of popular sovereignty through representative government were widely challenged by many groups. Much of this challenge, of course, was demagogic rhetoric presented on behalf of absurd doctrines of social reorganization. The anti-liberal criticism of Sorel, Maurras or Mussolini may be occassionally intriguing, but their alternatives are poisonous and fortunately, no longer have a place in contemporary political discussion. The same can be said of much of the ultra-leftist and communist political theory of this period.

Other arguments are dismissed only at a cost. The one I will consider here - Carl Schmitt's 'decisionism' - challenges the liberal-democratic theory of sovereignty in a way that throws considerable light on contemporary political conditions. His political theory before the Nazi seizure of power shared some assumptions with fascist political doctrine and he did attempt to become the 'crown jurist' of the new Nazi state. Nevertheless, Schmitt's work asks hard questions and points to aspects of political life too uncomfortable to ignore. Because his thinking about concrete political situations is not governed by any dogmatic political alternative, it exhibits a peculiar objectivity.

Schmitt's situational judgement stems from his view of politics or, more correctly, from his view of the political as 'friend-enemy' relations, which explains how he could change suddenly from contempt for Hitler to endorsing Nazism. If it is nihilistic to lack substantial ethical standards beyond politics, then Schmitt is a nihilist. In this, however, he is in the company of many modern political thinkers. What led him to collaborate with the Nazis from March 1933 to December 1936 was not, however, ethical nihilism, but above all concern with order. Along with many German conservatives, Schmitt saw the choice as either Hitler or chaos. As it turned out, he saved his life but lost his reputation. He lived in disrepute in the later years of the Third Reich, and died in ignominy in the Federal Republic. But political thought should not be evaluated on the basis of the authors' personal political judgements. Thus the value of Schmitt's work is not diminished by the choices he made.

Schmitt's main targets are the liberal-constitutional theory of the state and the parliamentarist conception of politics. In the former, the state is subordinated to law; it becomes the executor of purposes determined by a representative legislative assembly. In the latter, politics is dominated by 'discussion,' by the free deliberation of representatives in the assembly. Schmitt considers nineteenth-century liberal democracy anti-political and rendered impotent by a rule-bound legalism, a rationalistic concept of political debate, and the desire that individual citizens enjoy a legally guaranteed 'private' sphere protected from the state. The political is none of these things. Its essence is struggle.

In The Concept of the Political Schmitt argues that the differentia specifica of the political, which separates it from other spheres of life, such as religion or economics, is friend-enemy relations. The political comes into being when groups are placed in a relation of emnity, where each comes to perceive the other as an irreconcilable adversary to be fought and, if possible, defeated. Such relations exhibit an existential logic which overrides the motives which may have brought groups to this point. Each group now faces an opponent, and must take account of that fact: 'Every religious, moral, economic, ethical, or other antithesis transforms itself into a political one if it is sufficiently strong to group human beings effectively according to friends and enemy.' The political consists not in war or armed conflict as such, but precisely in the relation of emnity: not competition but confrontation. It is bound by no law: it is prior to no law.

For Schmitt: 'The concept of the state presupposes the concept of the political.' States arise as a means of continuing, organizing and channeling political struggle. It is political struggle which gives rise to political order. Any entity involved in friend-enemy relations is by definition political, whatever its origin or the origin of the differences leading to emnity: 'A religious community which wages wars against members of others religious communities or engages in other wars is already more than a religious community; it is a political entity.' The political condition arises from the struggle of groups; internal order is imposed to pursue external conflict. To view the state as the settled and orderly administration of a territory, concerned with the organization of its affairs according to law, is to see only the stabilized results of conflict. It is also to ignore the fact that the state stands in a relation of emnity to other states, that it holds its territory by means of armed force and that, on this basis of a monopoly of force, it can make claims to be the lawful government of that territory. The peaceful, legalistic, liberal bourgeoisie is sitting on a volcano and ignoring the fact. Their world depends on a relative stabilization of conflict within the state, and on the state's ability to keep at bay other potentially hostile states.

For Hobbes, the political state arises from a contract to submit to a sovereign who will put an end to the war of all against all which must otherwise prevail in a state of nature - an exchange of obediance for protection. Schmitt starts where Hobbes leaves off - with the natural condition between organized and competing groups or states. No amount of discussion, compromise or exhortation can settle issues between enemies. There can be no genuine agreement, because in the end there is nothing to agree about. Dominated as it is by the friend-enemy alternative, the political requires not discussion but decision. No amount of reflection can change an issue which is so existentially primitive that it precludes it. Speeches and motions in assemblies should not be contraposed to blood and iron but with the moral force of the decision, because vacillating parliamentarians can also cause considerable bloodshed.

In Schmitt's view, parliamentarism and liberalism existed in a particular historical epoch between the 'absolute' state of the seventeenth century and the 'total state' of the twentieth century. Parliamentary discussion and a liberal 'private sphere' presupposed the depoliticization of a large area of social, economic and cultural life. The state provided a legally codified order within which social customs, economic competition, religious beliefs, and so on, could be pursued without becoming 'political.' 'Politics' as such ceases to be exclusively the atter of the state when 'state and society penetrate each other.' The modern 'total state' breaks down the depoliticization on which such a narrow view of politics could rest:

 

Heretofore ostensibly neutral domains - religion, culture, education, the economy - then cease to be neutral. . . Against such neutralizations and depoliticizations of important domains appears the total state, which potentially embraces every domain. This results in the identity of the state and society. In such a state. . . everything is at least potentially political, and in referring to the state it is no longer possible to assert for it a specifically political characteristic.

 

Democracy and liberalism are fundamentally antagonistic. Democracy does away with the depoliticizations characteristic of rule by a narrow bourgeois stratum insulated from popular demands. Mass politics means a broadening of the agenda to include the affairs of all society - everything is potentially political. Mass politics also threatens existing forms of legal order. The politicization of all domains increases pressure on the state by multiplying the competing interests demanding action; at the same time, the function of the liberal legal framework - the regulating of the 'private sphere' - become inadequate. Once all social affairs become political, the existing constitutional framework threatens the social order: politics becomes a contest of organized parties seeking to prevail rather than to acheive reconciliation. The result is a state bound by law to allow every party an 'equal chance' for power: a weak state threatened with dissolution.

Schmitt may be an authoritarian conservative. But his diagnosis of the defects of parliamentarism and liberalism is an objective analysis rather than a mere restatement of value preferences. His concept of 'sovereignty' is challenging because it forces us to think very carefully about the conjuring trick which is 'law.' Liberalism tries to make the state subject to law. Laws are lawful if properly enacted according to set procedures; hence the 'rule of law.' In much liberal-democratic constitutional doctrine the legislature is held to be 'sovereign': it derives its law-making power from the will of the people expressed through their 'representatives.' Liberalism relies on a constituting political moment in order that the 'sovereignty' implied in democratic legislatures be unable to modify at will not only specific laws but also law-making processes. It is therefore threatened by a condition of politics which converts the 'rule of law' into a merely formal doctrine. If this 'rule of law' is simply the people's will expressed through their representatives, then it has no determinate content and the state is no longer substantially bound by law in its actions.

Classical liberalism implies a highly conservative version of the rule of law and a sovereignty limited by a constitutive political act beyond the reach of normal politics. Democracy threatens the parliamentary-constitutional regime with a boundless sovereign power claimed in the name of the 'people.' This reveals that all legal orders have an 'outside'; they rest on a political condition which is prior to and not bound by the law. A constitution can survive only if the constituting political act is upheld by some political power. The 'people' exist only in the claims of that tiny minority (their 'representatives') which functions as a 'majority' in the legislative assembly. 'Sovereignty' is thus not a matter of formal constitutional doctrine or essentially hypocritical references to the 'people'; it is a matter of determining which particular agency has the capacity - outside of law - to impose an order which, because it is political, can become legal.

Schmitt's analysis cuts through three hundred years of political theory and public law doctrine to define sovereignty in a way that renders irrelevant the endless debates about principles of political organization or the formal constitutional powers of different bodies.

 

From a practical or theoretical perspective, it really does not matter whether an abstract scheme advanced to define sovereignty (namely, that sovereignty is the highest power, not a derived power) is acceptable. About an abstract concept there will be no argument. . . What is argued about is the concrete application, and that means who decides in a situation of conflict what constitutes the public interest or interest of the state, public safety and order, le salut public, and so on. The exception, which is not codified in the existing legal order, can at best be characterized as a case of extreme peril, a danger to the existence of the state, or the like, but it cannot be circumscribed factually and made to conform to a preformed law.

 

Brutally put: ' Sovereign is he who decides on the exception.' The sovereign is a definite agency capable of making a decision, not a legitimating category (the 'people') or a purely formal definition (plentitude of power, etc.). Sovereignty is outside the law, since the actions of the sovereign in the state of exception cannot be bound by laws since laws presuppose a normal situation. To claim that this is anti-legal is to ignore the fact that all laws have an outside, that they exist because of a substantiated claim on the part of some agency to be the dominant source of binding rules within a territory. The sovereign determines the possibility of the 'rule of law' by deciding on the exception: 'For a legal order to make sense, a normal situation must exist, and he is sovereign who definitely decides whether this normal situation actually exists.'

Schmitt's concept of the exception is neither nihilistic nor anarchistic, it is concerned with the preservation of the state and the defence of legitimately constituted government and the stable institutions of society. He argues that ' the exception is different from anarchy and chaos.' It is an attempt to restore order in a political sense. While the state of exception can know no norms, the actions of the sovereign within the state must be governed by what is prudent to restore order. Barbaric excess and pure arbitrary power are not Schmitt's objecty. power is limited by a prudent concern for the social order; in the exception, 'order in the juristic sense still prevails, even if it is not of the ordinary kind.' Schmitt may be a relativist with regard to ultimate values in politics. But he is certainly a conservative concerned with defending a political framework in which the 'concrete orders' of society can be preserved, which distinguishes his thinking from both fascism and Nazism in their subordination of all social institutions to such idealized entities as the Leader and the People. For Schmitt, the exception is never the rule, as it is with fascism and Nazism. If he persists in demonstrating how law depends on politics, the norm on the exception, stability on struggle, he points up the contrary illusions of fascism and Nazism. In fact, Schmitt's work can be used as a critique of both. The ruthless logic in his analsysis of the political, the nature of soveriegnty, and the exception demonstrates the irrationality of fascism and Nazism. The exception cannot be made the rule in the 'total state' without reducing society to such a disorder through the political actions of the mass party that the very survival of the state is threatened. The Nazi state sought war as the highest goal in politics, but conducted its affairs in such a chaotic way that its war-making capacity was undermined and its war aims became fatally overextended. Schmitt's friend-enemy thesis is concerned with avoiding the danger that the logic of the political will reach its conclusion in unlimited war.

Schmitt modernizes the absolutist doctrines of Bodin and Hobbes. His jurisprudence restores - in the exception rather than the norm - the sovereign as uncommanded commander. For Hobbes, lawas are orders given by those with authority - authoritas non veritas facit legem. Confronted with complex systems of procedural limitation in public law and with the formalization of law into a system, laws become far more complex than orders. Modern legal positivism could point to a normal liberal-parliamentary legal order which did and still does appear to contradict Hobbes. Even in the somewhat modernized form of John Austin, the Hobbesian view of sovereignty is rejected on all sides. Schmitt shared neither the simplistic view of Hobbes that this implies, nor the indifference of modern legal positivism to the political foundation of law. He founded his jurisprudence neither on the normal workings of the legal order nor on the formal niceties of constitutional doctrine, but on a condition quite alien to them. 'Normalcy' rests not on legal or constitutional conditions but on a certain balance of political forces, a certain capacity of the state to impose order by force should the need arise. This is especially true of liberal-parliamentary regimes, whose public law requires stablization of political conflicts and considerable police and war powers even to begin to have the slightest chance of functioning at all. Law cannot itself form a completely rational and lawful system; the analysis of the state must make reference to those agencies which have the capacity to decide on the state of exception and not merely a formal plentitude of power.

In Political Theology Schmitt claims that the concepts of the modern theory of the state are secularized theological concepts. This is obvious in the case of the concept of sovereignty, wherein the omnipotent lawgiver is a mundane version of an all-powerful God. He argues that liberalism and parliamentarism correspond to deist views of God's action through constant and general natural laws. His own view is a form of fundamentalism in which the exception plays the same role in relation to the state as the miracles of Jesus do in confirming the Gospel. The exception reveals the legally unlimited capacity of whoever is sovereign within the state. In conventional, liberal-democratic doctrine the people are sovereign; their will is expressed through representatives. Schmitt argues that modern democracy is a form of populism in that the people are mobilized by propaganda and organized interests. Such a democracy bases legitimacy on the people's will. Thus parliament exists on the sufferance of political parties, propaganda agencies and organized interest which compete for popular 'consent.' When parliamentary forms and the rule of 'law' become inadequate to the political situation, they will be dispensed with in the name of the people: 'No other constitutional institution can withstand the sole criterion of the people's will, however it is expressed.'

Schmitt thus accepts the logic of Weber's view of plebiscitarian democracy and the rise of bureaucratic mass parties, which utterly destroy the old parliamentary notables. He uses the nineteenth-century conservatives Juan Donoso Cortes to set the essential dilemma in Political Theology: either a boundless democracy of plebiscitarian populism which will carry us wherever it will (i.e. to Marxist or fascist domination) or a dictatorship. Schmitt advocates a very specific form of dictatorship in a state of exception - a "commissarial' dictatorship, which acts to restore social stability, to preserve the concrete orders of society and restore the constitution. The dictator has a constitutional office. He acts in the name of the constitution, but takes such measures as are necessary to preserve order. these measures are not bound by law; they are extralegal.

Schmitt's doctrine thus involves a paradox. For all its stress on friend-enemy relations, on decisive political action, its core, its aim, is the maintenance of stability and order. It is founded on a political non-law, but not in the interest of lawlessness. Schmitt insists that the constitution must be capable of meeting the challenge of the exception, and of allowing those measures necessary to preserve order. He is anti-liberal because he claims that liberalism cannot cope with the reality of the political; it can only insist on a legal formalism which is useless in the exceptional case. He argues that only those parties which are bound to uphold the constitution should be allowed an 'equal chance' to struggle for power. Parties which threaten the existing order and use constitutional means to challenge the constitution should be subject to rigorous control.

Schmitt's relentless attack on 'discussion' makes most democrats and radicals extremely hostile to his views. He is a determined critic of the Enlightenment. Habermas's 'ideal speech situation', in which we communicate without distortion to discover a common 'emancipatory interest', would appear to Schmitt as a trivial philosophical restatement of Guizot's view that in representative government, ' through discussion the powers-that-be are obliged to seek truth in common." Schmitt is probably right. Enemies have nothing to discuss and we can never attain a situation in which the friend-enemy distinction is abolished. Liberalism does tend to ignore the exception and the more resolute forms of political struggle.

Keith Preston: Understanding Carl Schmitt

 

Keith Preston: Understanding Carl Schmitt

Carl Schmitt: The Conservative Revolutionary Habitus and the Aesthetics of Horror

Carl Schmitt: The Conservative Revolutionary Habitus and the Aesthetics of Horror

Richard Wolin

Ex: http://freespeechproject.com/

 

"Carl Schmitt's polemical discussion of political Romanticism conceals the aestheticizing oscillations of his own political thought. In this respect, too, a kinship of spirit with the fascist intelligentsia reveals itself."
—Jürgen Habermas, "The Horrors of Autonomy: Carl Schmitt in English"

"The pinnacle of great politics is the moment in which the enemy comes into view in concrete clarity as the enemy."
—Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political (1927)

Only months after Hitler's accession to power, the eminently citable political philosopher and jurist Carl Schmitt, in the ominously titled work, Staat, Bewegung, Volk, delivered one of his better known dicta. On January 30, 1933, observes Schmitt, "one can say that 'Hegel died.'" In the vast literature on Schmitt's role in the National Socialist conquest of power, one can find many glosses on this one remark, which indeed speaks volumes. But let us at the outset be sure to catch Schmitt's meaning, for Schmitt quickly reminds us what he does not intend by this pronouncement: he does not mean to impugn the hallowed tradition of German étatistme, that is, of German "philosophies of state," among which Schmitt would like to number his own contributions to the annals of political thought. Instead, it is Hegel qua philosopher of the "bureaucratic class" or Beamtenstaat that has been definitely surpassed with Hitler's triumph. For "bureaucracy" (cf. Max Weber's characterization of "legal-bureaucratic domination") is, according to its essence, a bourgeois form of rule. As such, this class of civil servants—which Hegel in the Rechtsphilosophie deems the "universal class"—represents an impermissable drag on the sovereignty of executive authority. For Schmitt, its characteristic mode of functioning, which is based on rules and procedures that are fixed, preestablished, calculable, qualifies it as the very embodiment of bourgeois normalcy—a form of life that Schmitt strove to destroy and transcend in virtually everything he thought and wrote during the 1920s, for the very essence of the bureaucratic conduct of business is reverence for the norm, a standpoint that could not exist in great tension with the doctrines of Carl Schmitt himself, whom we know to be a philosopher of the state of emergency—of the Auhsnamhezustand (literally, the "state of exception"). Thus, in the eyes of Schmitt, Hegel had set an ignominious precedent by according this putative universal class a position of preeminence in his political thought, insofar as the primacy of the bureaucracy tends to diminish or supplant the perogative of sovereign authority.

But behind the critique of Hegel and the provocative claim that Hitler's rise coincides with Hegel's metaphorical death (a claim, that while true, should have offered, pace Schmitt, little cause for celebration) lies a further indictment, for in the remarks cited, Hegel is simultaneously perceived as an advocate of the Rechtsstaat, of "constitutionalism" and "rule of law." Therefore, in the history of German political thought, the doctrines of this very German philosopher prove to be something of a Trojan horse: they represent a primary avenue via which alien bourgeois forms of political life have infiltrated healthy and autochthonous German traditions, one of whose distinguishing features is an rejection of "constitutionalism" and all it implies. The political thought of Hegel thus represents a threat—and now we encounter another one of Schmitt's key terms from the 1920s—to German homogeneity.

Schmitt's poignant observations concerning the relationship between Hegel and Hitler expresses the idea that one tradition in German cultural life—the tradition of German idealism—has come to an end and a new set of principles—based in effect on the category of völkish homogeneity (and all it implies for Germany's political future)—has arisen to take its place. Or, to express the same thought in other terms: a tradition based on the concept of Vernuft or "reason" has given way to a political system whose new raison d'être was the principle of authoritarian decision—whose consummate embodiment was the Führerprinzep, one of the ideological cornerstones of the post-Hegelian state. To be sure, Schmitt's insight remains a source of fascination owing to its uncanny prescience: in a statement of a few words, he manages to express the quintessence of some 100 years of German historical development. At the same time, this remark also remains worthy insofar as it serves as a prism through which the vagaries of Schmitt's own intellectual biography come into unique focues: it represents an unambiguous declaration of his satiety of Germany's prior experiments with constitutional government and of his longing for a total- or Führerstaat in which the ambivalences of the parliamentary system would be abolished once and for all. Above all, however, it suggest how readily Schmitt personally made the transition from intellectual antagonist of Weimar democracy to whole-hearted supporter of National Socialist revolution. Herein lies what one may refer to as the paradox of Carl Schmitt: a man who, in the words of Hannah Arendt, was a "convinced Nazi," yet "whose very ingenious theories about the end of democracy and legal government still make arresting reading."

The focal point of our inquiry will be the distinctive intellectual "habitus" (Bourdieu) that facilitated Schmitt's alacritous transformation from respected Weimar jurist and academician to "crown jurist of the Third Reich." To understand the intellectual basis of Schmitt's political views, one must appreciate his elective affinities with that generation of so-called conservative revolutionary thinkers whose worldview was so decisive in turning the tide of public opinion against the fledgling Weimar republic. As the political theorist Kurt Sontheimer has noted: "It is hardly a matter of controversy today that certain ideological predispositions in German thought generally, but particularly in the intellectual climate of the Weimar Republic, induced a large number of German electors under the Weimar Republic to consider the National Socialist movement as less problematic than it turned out to be." And even though the nationalsocialists and the conservative revolutionaries failed to see eye to eye on many points, their respective plans for a new Germany were sufficiently close that a comparison between them is able to "throw light on the intellectual atmosphere in which, when National Socialism arose, it could seem to be a more or less presentable doctrine." Hence "National Socialism . . . derived considerable profit from thinkers like Oswald Spengler, Arthur Moeller van den Bruck, and Ernst Jünger," despite their later parting of the ways. One could without much exaggeration label this intellectual movement protofascistic, insofar as its general ideological effect consisted in providing a type of ideological-spiritual preparation for the National Socialist triumph.

 

Schmitt himself was never an active member of the conservative revolutionary movement, whose best known representatives—Spengler, Jünger, and van den Bruck—have been named by Sontheimer (though one might add Hans Zehrer and Othmar Spann). It would be fair to say that the major differences between Schmitt and his like-minded, influential group of right-wing intellectuals concerned a matter of form rather than substance: unlike Schmitt, most of whose writings appeared in scholarly and professional journals, the conservative revolutionaries were, to a man, nonacademics who made names for themselves as Publizisten—that is, as political writers in that same kaleidoscope and febrile world of Weimar Offentlichkeit that was the object of so much scorn in their work. But Schmitt's status as a fellow traveler in relation to the movement's main journals (such as Zehrer's influential Die Tat, activities, and circles notwithstanding, his profound intellectual affinities with this group of convinced antirepublicans are impossible to deny. In fact, in the secondary literature, it has become more common than not simply to include him as a bona fide member of the group.

The intellectual habitus shared by Schmitt and the conservative revolutionaries is in no small measure of Nietzschean derivation. Both subscribed to the immoderate verdict registered by Nietzsche on the totality of inherited Western values: those values were essentially nihilistic. Liberalism, democracy, utlitarianism, individualism, and Enlightenment rationalism were the characteristic belief structures of the decadent capitalist West; they were manifestations of a superficial Zivilisation, which failed to measure up to the sublimity of German Kultur. In opposition to a bourgeois society viewed as being in an advanced state of decomposition, Schmitt and the conservative revolutionaries counterposed the Nietzschean rites of "active nihilism." In Nietzsche's view, whatever is falling should be given a final push. Thus one of the patented conceptual oppositions proper to the conservative revolutionary habitus was that between the "hero" (or "soldier") and the "bourgeois." Whereas the hero thrives on risk, danger, and uncertainity, the life of bourgeois is devoted to petty calculations of utility and security. This conceptual opposition would occupy center stage in what was perhaps the most influential conservative revolutionary publication of the entire Weimar period, Ernst Jünger's 1932 work, Der Arbeiter (the worker), where it assumes the form of a contrast between "the worker-soldier" and "the bourgeois." If one turns, for example, to what is arguably Schmitt's major work of the 1920s, The Concept of the Political (1927), where the famous "friend-enemy" distinction is codified as the raison d'être of politics, it is difficult to ignore the profound conservative revolutionary resonances of Schmitt's argument. Indeed, it would seem that such resonances permeate, Schmitt's attempt to justify politics primarily in martial terms; that is, in light of the ultimate instance of (or to use Schmitt's own terminology) Ernstfall of battle (Kampf) or war.

Once the conservative revolutionary dimension of Schmitt's thought is brought to light, it will become clear that the continuities in his pre- and post-1933 political philosophy and stronger than the discontinuities. Yet Schmitt's own path of development from arch foe of Weimar democracy to "convinced Nazi" (Arendt) is mediated by a successive series of intellectual transformations that attest to his growing political radicalisation during the 1920s and early 1930s. He follows a route that is both predictable and sui generis: predictable insomuch as it was a route traveled by an entire generation of like-minded German conservative and nationalist intellectuals during the interwar period; sui generis, insofar as there remains an irreducible originality and perspicacity to the various Zeitdiagnosen proffered by Schmitt during the 1920s, in comparison with the at times hackneyed and familar formulations of his conservative revolutionary contemporaries.

The oxymoronic designation "conservative revolutionary" is meant to distinguish the radical turn taken during the interwar period by right-of-center German intellectuals from the stance of their "traditional conservative" counterparts, who longed for a restoration of the imagined glories of earlier German Reichs and generally stressed the desirability of a return to premodern forms of social order (e.g., Tönnies Gemeinschaft) based on aristocratic considerations of rank and privilege. As opposed to the traditional conservatives, the conservative revolutionaries (and this is true of Jünger, van den Bruck, and Schmitt), in their reflections of the German defeat in the Great War, concluded that if Germany were to be successful in the next major European conflagaration, premodern or traditional solutions would not suffice. Instead, what was necessary was "modernization," yet a form of modernization that was at the same time compatible with the (albeit mythologized) traditional German values of heroism, "will" (as opposed to "reason"), Kultur, and hierarchy. In sum, what was desired was a modern community. As Jeffrey Herf has stressed in his informative book on the subject, when one searches for the ideological origins of National Socialism, it is not so much Germany's rejection of modernity that is at issue as its selective embrace of modernity. Thus National Socialist's triumph, far from being characterized by a disdain of modernity simpliciter, was marked simultaneously by an assimilation of technical modernity and a repudiation of Western political modernity: of the values of political liberalism as they emerge from the democratic revolutions of the eighteenth century. This describes the essence of the German "third way" or Sonderweg: Germany's special path to modernity that is neither Western in the sense of England and France nor Eastern in the sense of Russia or pan-slavism.

Schmitt began his in the 1910s as a traditonal conservative, namely, as a Catholic philosopher of state. As such, his early writings revolved around a version of political authoritarianism in which the idea of a strong state was defended at all costs against the threat of liberal encroachments. In his most significant work of the decade, The Value of the State and the Significance of the Individual (1914), the balance between the two central concepts, state and individual, is struck one-sidely in favour of the former term. For Schmitt, the state, in executing its law-promulgating perogatives, cannot countenance any opposition. The uncompromising, antiliberal conclusion he draws from this observation is that "no individual can have full autonomy within the state." Or, as Schmitt unambiguously expresses a similar thought elsewhere in the same work: "the individual" is merely "a means to the essence, the state is what is important." Thus, although Schmitt displayed little inclination for the brand of jingoistic nationalism so prevalent among his German academic mandarin brethern during the war years, as Joseph Bendersky has observed, "it was precisely on the point of authoritarianism vs. liberal individualism that the views of many Catholics [such as Schmitt] and those of non-Catholic conservatives coincided."

But like other German conservatives, it was Schmitt's antipathy to liberal democratic forms of government, coupled with the political turmoil of the Weimar republic, that facilitated his transformation from a traditional conservative to a conservative revolutionary. To be sure, a full account of the intricacies of Schmitt's conservative revolutionary "conversion" would necessitate a year by year account of his political thought during the Weimar period, during which Schmitt's intellectual output was nothing if prolific, (he published virtually a book a year). Instead, for the sake of concision and the sake of fidelity to the leitmotif of the "conservative revolutionary habitus," I have elected to concentrate on three key aspects of Schmitt's intellectual transformation during this period: first, his sympathies with the vitalist (lebensphilosophisch) critique of modern rationalism; second, his philosophy of history during these years; and third, his protofascistic of the conservative revolutionary doctrine of the "total state." All three aspects, moreover, are integrally interrelated.

II.

The vitalist critique of Enlightenment rationalism is of Nietzschean provenance. In opposition to the traditional philosophical image of "man" qua animal rationalis, Nietzsche counterposes his vision of "life [as] will to power." In the course of this "transvaluation of all values," the heretofore marginalized forces of life, will, affect, and passion should reclaim the position of primacy they once enjoyed before the triumph of "Socratism." It is in precisely this spirit that Nietzsche recommends that in the future, we philosophize with our affects instead of with concepts, for in the culture of European nihilism that has triumphed with the Enlightenment, "the essence of life, its will to power, is ignored," argues Nietzsche; "one overlooks the essential priority of the spontaneous, aggressive, expansive, form-giving forces that give new interpretations and directions."

It would be difficult to overestimate the power and influence this Nietzschean critique exerted over an entire generation of antidemocratic German intellectuals during the 1920s. The anticivilizational ethos that pervades Spengler's Decline of the West—the defence of "blood and tradition" against the much lamented forces of societal rationalisation—would be unthinkable without that dimension of vitalistic Kulturkritik to which Nietzsche's work gave consummate expression. Nor would it seem that the doctrines of Klages, Geist als Widersacher der Seele (Intellect as the Antagonist of the Soul; 1929-31), would have captured the mood of the times as well as they did had it not been for the irrevocable precedent set by Nietzsche's work, for the central opposition between "life" and "intellect," as articulated by Klages and so many other German "anti-intellectual intellectuals" during the interwar period, represents an unmistakably Nietzschean inheritance.

While the conservative revolutionary components of Schmitt's worldview have been frequently noted, the paramount role played by the "philosophy of life"—above all, by the concept of cultural criticism proper to Lebensphilosophie—on his political thought has escaped the attention of most critics. However, a full understanding of Schmitt's status as a radical conservative intellectual is inseparable from an appreciation of an hitherto neglected aspect of his work.

In point of fact, determinate influences of "philosophy of life"—a movement that would feed directly into the Existenzphilosophie craze of the 1920s (Heidegger, Jaspers, and others)—are really discernable in Schmitt's pre-Weimar writings. Thus, in one of his first published works, Law and Judgment (1912), Schmitt is concerned with demonstrating the impossibility of understanding the legal order in exclusively rationalist terms, that is, as a self-sufficient, complete system of legal norms after the fashion of legal positivism. It is on this basis that Schmitt argues in a particular case, a correct decision cannot be reached solely via a process of deducation or generalisation from existing legal precedents or norms. Instead, he contends, there is always a moment of irreducible particularity to each case that defies subsumption under general principles. It is precisely this aspect of legal judgment that Schmitt finds most interesting and significant. He goes on to coin a phrase for this "extralegal" dimension that proves an inescapable aspect of all legal decision making proper: the moment of "concrete indifference," the dimension of adjudication that transcends the previously established legal norm. In essence, the moment of "concrete indifference" represents for Schmitt a type of vital substrate, an element of "pure life," that forever stands opposed to the formalism of laws as such. Thus at the heart of bourgeois society—its legal system—one finds an element of existential particularity that defies the coherence of rationalist syllogizing or formal reason.

The foregoing account of concrete indifference is a matter of more than passing or academic interest insofar as it proves a crucial harbinger of Schmitt's later decisionistic theory of sovereignty, for its its devaluation of existing legal norms as a basis for judicial decision making, the category of concrete indifference points towards the imperative nature of judicial decision itself as a self-sufficient and irreducible basis of adjudication. The vitalist dimension of Schmitt's early philosophy of law betrays itself in his thoroughgoing denigration of legal normativism—for norms are a product of arid intellectualism (Intelligenz) and, as such, hostile to life (lebensfeindlick)—and the concomitant belief that the decision alone is capable of bridging the gap between the abstractness of law and the fullness of life.

The inchoate vitalist sympathies of Schmitt's early work become full blown in his writings of the 1920s. Here, the key text is Political Theology (1922), in which Schmitt formulates his decisionist theory of politics, or, as he remarks in the work's often cited first sentance: "Sovereign is he who decides the state of exception [Ausnahmezustand]."

It would be tempting to claim from this initial, terse yet lapidry definition of sovereignty, one may deduce the totality of Schmitt's mature political thought, for it contains what we know to the be the two keywords of his political philosophy during these years: decision and the exception. Both in Schmitt's lexicon are far from value-neutral or merely descriptive concepts. Instead, they are both accorded unambiguously positive value in the economy of his thought. Thus one of the hallmarks of Schmitt's political philosophy during the Weimar years will be a privileging of Ausnahmezustand, or state of exception, vis-à-vis political normalcy.

It is my claim that Schmitt's celebration of the state of exception over conditions of political normalcy—which he essentially equates with legal positivism and "parliamentarianism"—has its basis in the vitalist critique of Enlightenment rationalism. In his initial justification of the Ausnahmezustand in Political Theology, Schmitt leaves no doubt concerning the historical pedigree of such concepts. Thus following the well-known definition of sovereignty cited earlier, he immediantly underscores its status as a "borderline concept"—a Grenzbegriff, a concept "pertaining to the outermost sphere." It is precisely this fascination with extreme or "boundry situations" (Grenzsituationen—K. Jaspers—those unique moments of existential peril that become a proving ground of individual "authenticity"—that characterizes Lebensphilosophie's sweeping critique of bourgeois "everydayness." Hence in the Grenzsituationen, Dasein glimpses transcendence and is thereby transformed from possible to real Existenz." In parallel fashion, Schmitt, by according primacy to the "state of exception" as opposed to political normalcy, tries to invest the emergency situation with a higher, existential significance and meaning.

According to the inner logic of this conceptual scheme, the "state of exception" becomes the basis for a politics of authenticity. In contrast to conditions of political normalcy, which represent the unexalted reign of the "average, the "medicore," and the "everyday," the state of exception proves capable of reincorporating a dimension of heroism and greatness that is sorely lacking in routinized, bourgeois conduct of political life.

Consequently, the superiority of the state as the ultimate, decisionistic arbiter over the emergency situation is a matter that, in Schmitt's eyes, need not be argued for, for according to Schmitt, "every rationalist interpretation falsifies the immediacy of life." Instead, in his view, the state represents a fundamental, irrefragable, existential verity, as does the category of "life" in Nietzsche's philosophy, or, as Schmitt remarks with a characteristic pith in Political Theology, "The existence of the state is undoubted proof of its superiority over the validity of the legal norm." Thus "the decision [on the state of exception] becomes instantly independent of argumentative substantiation and receives autonomous value."

But as Franz Neumann observes in Behemoth, given the lack of coherence of National Socialist ideology, the rationales provided for totalitarian practice were often couched specifically in vitalist or existential terms. In Neumann's words,

 

[Given the incoherence of National Socialist ideology], what is left as justification for the [Grossdeutsche] Reich? Not racism, not the idea of the Holy Roman Empire, and certainly not some democratic nonsense like popular sovereignty or self-determination. Only the Reich itself remains. It is its own justification. The philosophical roots of the argument are to be found in the existential philosophy of Heidegger. Transferred to the realm of politics, exisentialism argues that power and might are true: power is a sufficient theoretical basis for more power.

 

[Excerpts from The Seduction of Unreason: The Intellectual Romance with Fascism from Nietzsche to Postmodernism (2004).]

Jonathan Bowden on Thomas Carlyle

 

Jonathan Bowden on Thomas Carlyle

L'histoire répond-elle aux problèmes de l'avenir?

L’Histoire répond-elle aux problèmes de l’avenir ?

Ex: http://scorpionwind.hautetfort.com/

Par Dominique Venner (historien)

Toujours les hommes ont éprouvé le besoin de scruter l‘avenir. Les Grecs interrogeaient la pythie de Delphes. Elle savait rendre des oracles dont l’obscurité se prêtait à de multiples interprétations. Se pliant à l’usage, Alexandre vint la consulter avant d’entreprendre la conquête de l’Asie. Comme elle tardait à rejoindre son trépied, l’impatient Macédonien l’y traîna de force. Elle s‘exclama : « On ne peut te résister…» Ayant entendu ces mots, Alexandre la laissa choir, disant : « Cette prédiction me suffit. » C’était un sage.

Chaque époque eut ses prophètes, devins, haruspices, astrologues, chiromanciens, futurologues et autres charlatans. Autrefois, on faisait tourner des tables, aujourd’hui les ordinateurs. Catherine de Médicis s’en rapportait à Nostradamus. Cromwell écoutait William Lily. Staline interrogeait Wolf Messing. Hitler questionnait Eric Hanussen. Briand et Poincaré se partageaient les talents de Mme Fraya… Une chose cependant, est le destin individuel, une autre celui des civilisations.

Précédé par l’optimisme hérité des Lumières, le XXème siècle s‘était ouvert sur les promesses d’un avenir radieux, dans la certitude que la science et le savoir étaient des facteurs de progrès et de sagesse. L’homme devenu vraiment «maître et possesseur de la nature», allait acquérir la maîtrise de lui-même. Après la victoire sur les choses, la paix et l’entente entre les hommes s’établiraient d’elles-mêmes.

L’impitoyable XXème siècle a démenti ces illusions. Personne ou presque n’avait vu venir la catastrophe sortie du meurtre de Sarajevo à l’été 1914. Chez tous les belligérants, on croyait à une guerre courte, fraîche et joyeuse. Elle fut interminable, épouvantable et meurtrière comme jamais. C’était le cadeau imprévu fait aux hommes par le progrès industriel et la démocratie de masse, deux facteurs nouveaux qui avait transformé la nature même de la guerre. Commencée comme un conflit classique entre les Etats, elle finit en croisade idéologique, entraînant la destruction de l’ancien ordre européen, incarné par les trois grands empires du Centre et de l’Est. On sait que le charcutage de l’Europe et les conditions imposées aux vaincus après 1919 portaient le germe d’une autre guerre plus catastrophique encore.

A l’aube d’un nouveau siècle et d’un nouveau millénaire, les illusions du progrès se sont en partie dissipées, au point que l’on entend parler de «progrès meurtrier» ou «d’horreur économique». Le marxisme et ce qu’il charriait de certitudes se sont effrondés dans la débâcle du système qu’il avait enfanté. L’optimisme d’hier cède souvent devant une sorte de pessimisme accablé, nourri par l’inquiétude d’un avenir à biens des égards angoissant. On se tourne vers l’Histoire pour lui demander des réponses.

Mais l’interprétation de l’Histoire n’échappe ni aux modes ni aux idées dominantes. Un effort de l’intelligence et du caractère est donc toujours requis pour s’affranchir des pesanteurs de son époque. Avec un peu d’entraînement, tout esprit curieux, libre et cultivé peut y parvenir. A ne prendre que les cent dernières années les faits ne manquent pas, qui soulignent par exemple le caractère imprévisible de l’Histoire, n’en déplaisent aux théories déterministes issues de la vision hégélienne.

Le 22 janvier 1917, un Lénine quasi inconnu et toujours exilé, prit la parole devant le cercle des étudiants socialistes : « Nous, les vieux, dit-il en parlant de lui, nous ne verrons peut-être jamais les batailles décisives de la Révolution… » Sept semaines plus tard, le tsarisme était renversé sans que Lénine et les bolchéviks n’y fussent pour rien. Les « batailles décisives » aux quelles il ne croyait plus allaient commencer, pour le malheur de la Russie et du monde entier. Je connais peu d’anecdotes aussi révélatrices de la difficulté des prévisions historiques. Mais il en est d’autres dans un registre différent.

Durant l’année universitaire 1975-1976, Raymond Aron, l’un des esprits les plus perspicaces de sont temps, donna un cours au Collège de France sur « La Décadence de l’Occident », ce qui était déjà tout un programme. Voici sa conclusion : « l’abaissement des Etats-Unis de 1945 à 1975 découlait de forces irrésistibles ». Retenons « irrésistibles ». Dans ses Mémoires, publiées l’année de sa mort, en 1983, Aron revenait sur cette réflexion en l’amplifiant : « Ce que j’observais dès 1975, c’était la menace de désagrégation de la zone impériale américaine…» A nous qui vivons sous l’ombre portée de l’imperium mondial américain, cette analyse ferait douter de la lucidité de l’auteur. Et pourtant, celle-ci n’a jamais été mise en doute. Notre étonnement vient du fait que l’Histoire a galopé à notre insu, nous montrant aujourd’hui un monde très différent de ce qu’il était vingt ans plus tôt, ce que personne n’avait prévu.

Je ne suggère nullement d’ignorer les menaces inscrites à notre horizon : mondialisation dévorante, gonflement démographique, immigrations massives, pollution de la nature, manipulations génétiques, etc. Dans une période inquiétante il est sain de repousser les illusion béates, il est salubre de pratiquer les vertus du pessimisme actif, celui de Thucydide ou de Machiavel. Mais il est tout aussi nécessaire de rejeter la forme de pessimisme qui pousse au fatalisme. Devant les menaces du futur, une première erreur serait de les considérer comme inéluctables. L’Histoire n’est pas le domaine de la fatalité mais celui de l’imprévu. Une deuxième erreur serait d’imaginer l’avenir en prolongement du présent. S’il est une certitude, c’est que l’avenir sera différent de ce qu’on l’imagine aujourd’hui. Une troisième erreur serait de désespérer de l’intelligence, de l’imagination, de la volonté, et finalement de nous-mêmes.

source : Le Figaro du 19 janvier 2000

 

Généalogie de l'individualisme moderne

Généalogie de l'individualisme moderne

par Edouard Rix

Ex: http://tpprovence.hautetfort.com/

S’interroger sur la filiation de l’individualisme moderne, c’est poser la question des origines et de l’évolution historique d’un des principes fondateurs de nos sociétés contemporaines.

« Le terme “individualisme“ recouvre les notions les plus hétérogènes que l’on puisse imaginer » (1) écrivait le sociologue Max Weber dans L’Ethique protestante et l’Esprit du capitalisme. Nous définirons l’individualisme comme une dimension de l’idéologie moderne qui érige l’individu, en tant qu’être moral, en valeur suprême.

De la famille à l’individu

Pour établir notre généalogie de l’individualisme moderne, nous commencerons par les travaux d’un juriste britannique, sir Henry Sumner Maine. Ce dernier, grand spécialiste du droit comparé, est l’auteur d’un ouvrage publié en 1861 et qui a connu de nombreuses rééditions, Ancient Law, dans lequel il examine les concepts juridiques des sociétés anciennes en s’appuyant sur le droit romain, les systèmes juridiques de l’Inde et de l’Europe orientale, ou encore les jurisprudence contemporaines.

Selon Maine, les sociétés humaines ont connu successivement deux grands principes d’organisation  politique : la parenté de sang, puis la communauté de territoire. Dans un chapitre intitulé « La société primitive et l’ancien droit », consacré au droit dans les sociétés archaïques, il écrit : « L’histoire des idées politiques commence, en fait, avec l’idée que la parenté de sang est la seule base possible d’une communauté de fonctions politiques ; et aucun de ces renversements de sentiments que nous appelons solennellement révolutions n’a été si surprenant et si complet que le changement survenu lorsque quelque autre principe, celui de contiguïté locale par exemple, fut établi pour la première fois comme base d’une action politique commune » (2). Sa thèse est limpide : c’est lorsque le cadre territorial s’est substitué aux liens de parenté comme fondement du système politique que l’organisation sociale moderne que nous connaissons est apparue.

Pour Maine, tout commence avec la famille : « la famille est le type même de la société archaïque ». Pour retracer l’histoire des sociétés les plus anciennes, il va s’appuyer, dans son enquête, sur des sources variées : les observations des contemporains, les archives, mais surtout les institutions et les systèmes juridiques primitifs qui se sont transmis jusqu’à nos jours. Il analyse ainsi les premiers chapitres de la Genèse, où l’organisation politique de la société apparaît fondée sur le pouvoir patriarcal. Utilisant également la littérature antique, il cite le passage de l’Odyssée concernant les cyclopes : pour Homère, ces monstres incarnent « le type de civilisation étrangère et moins avancée » (3). Les cyclopes n’avaient ni assemblées, ni thémistes, et les chefs de famille exerçaient le pouvoir sur leurs épouses et leur descendance. Dans la Grèce ancienne et à Rome, Maine trouve la trace des groupes de filiation à partir desquels s’est constitué l’Etat. On peut donc supposer que les premières communautés politiques apparurent partout ou les familles, au lieu d’éclater à la mort du patriarche qui les dirigeait, gardèrent leur unité. Les institutions romaines ont conservé les vestiges de cette tradition : « Le groupe élémentaire est la Famille, rattachée au plus ancien descendant mâle. L’agrégation des Familles forme le Gens ou la Maison. L’agrégation des tribus constitue l’Etat (Commonwealth) » (4). Maine en conclut que l’idée d’un lien lignager commun est une donnée fondamentale des sociétés archaïques. Ce phénomène est commun aux Indo-européens qui retracent leurs origines à partir d’un même rameau familial.

Les thèses de Maine sur les origines lignagères de la sociétés sont à mettre en rapport avec les discussions sur le droit naturel. Pour Maine, l’état de nature est une notion « non historique, invérifiable », de même que l’idée de contrat social qui est au centre des doctrines philosophiques. Sa position est à l’opposé des thèses défendues par Hobbes, Locke et Rousseau. Pour lui, les philosophes voient l’état de nature, l’état d’avant l’Etat, avec les yeux de l’individualisme moderne, présupposant l’existence d’un contractualisme avant l’heure.

Au modèle de l’autorité patriarcale, les sociétés modernes opposent une autre conception du lien politique, la cellule de base n’étant plus la famille mais l’individu. « L’unité de la société archaïque était la famille, celle de la société moderne est l’individu » (5) insiste-t-il. La grande nouveauté du monde moderne, c’est le remplacement du lien statutaire qui prévalait dans les sociétés anciennes par la relation purement contractuelle. Comme le résume Maine dans un célèbre aphorisme : « Le mouvement progressif des sociétés jusqu’à nos jours a été un mouvement du status au contrat » (6). Certes, au XIXème siècle, il n’a pas été le seul à opposer le caractère individualiste des sociétés modernes aux sociétés archaïques communautaires. Tocqueville, par exemple, a fort bien analysé le développement et le triomphe de l’individualisme dans l’Amérique démocratique et, au-delà les pays développés d’Occident. De même, dans Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft, publié en 1887, Ferdinand Tonnies oppose la communauté (gemeinschaft), unité organique, à la société (gesellschaft), construction mécanique et rationalisée. « Maine inaugure une pensée du politique à deux vitesses, selon laquelle une scission fondamentale sépare archaïsme et modernité, ou, selon une formulation plus moderne, sociétés holistes et sociétés individualistes » (7) écrit Marc Abélès dans Anthropologie de l’Etat.

Sociétés holistes et sociétés individualistes

C’est à Louis Dumont, dont l’œuvre embrasse l’ensemble des domaines des sciences sociales (sociologie, anthropologie, philosophie, histoire, droit et sciences politiques), que l’on doit l’analyse la plus pertinente sur les concepts d’individualisme et d’holisme, permettant une appréhension nouvelle de la modernité. En effet, Dumont distingue les sociétés traditionnelles de la société moderne. « Dans les premières, écrit-il, comme par ailleurs dans la République de Platon, l’accent est mis sur la société dans son ensemble, comme Homme collectif ; l’idéal se définit par l’organisation de la société en vue de ses fins (et non en vue du bonheur individuel) ; il s’agit avant tout d’ordre, de hiérarchie, chaque homme particulier doit contribuer à sa place à l’ordre global et la justice consiste à proportionner les fonctions sociales par rapport à l’ensemble » (8). Le sociologue qualifie ce type de sociétés de « holiste ».

Il poursuit : « Pour les modernes au contraire, l’Etre humain c’est l’homme “élémentaire“, indivisible, sous sa forme d’être biologique et en même temps de sujet pensant. Chaque homme particulier incarne en un sens l’humanité entière. Il est la mesure de toute chose (…) Le royaume des fins coïncide avec les fins légitimes de chaque homme, et ainsi les valeurs se renversent. Ce qu’on appelle encore “société“ est le moyen, la vie de chacun est la fin. Ontologiquement la société n’est plus, elle n’est plus qu’un donné irréductible auquel on demande de ne point contrarier les exigences de liberté et d’égalité » (9). Dumont constate que « parmi les grandes civilisations que le monde a connues, le type holiste de société a prédominé » (10). Il ajoute que « tout se passe même comme s’il avait été la règle, à la seule exception de notre civilisation moderne et de son type individualiste de société » (11). La civilisation européenne est donc, à l’origine, une civilisation holiste, la société y étant perçue comme une communauté, comme un tout organique auquel on appartient par héritage.

« Ce n’est pas en tant qu’individu, note Jean-Pierre Vernant, que l’homme grec respecte ou craint un dieu, c’est en tant que chef de famille, membre d’un genos, d’une phratrie, d’un dème, d’une cité ». De même, aucune tradition philosophique classique ne pose l’homme comme un individu isolé. Ainsi, pour Aristote, l’homme est par nature un zoon politikon, un animal politique, qui n’est nullement détaché des autres hommes. Toutefois, « la transition dans la pensée philosophique de Platon et d’Aristote aux nouvelles écoles de la période hellénistique montre une discontinuité », souligne Louis Dumont, « l’émergence soudaine de l’individualisme » (12). En effet, précise-t-il, « alors que la polis était considérée comme autosuffisante chez Platon et Aristote, c’est maintenant l’individu qui est censé se suffire à lui-même. Cet individu est, soit supposé comme un fait, soit posé comme un idéal par les épicuriens, cyniques et stoïciens tous ensemble » (13).

Dans son ouvrage, désormais classique, A History of Political Theory, Georges Sabine classe les trois écoles philosophiques comme différentes variétés de “renonciation“ (14). En effet, ces écoles enseignent la sagesse, et pour devenir un sage, il faut d’abord renoncer au monde… Comment interpréter la genèse de cet individualisme philosophique ? Dumont l’explique ainsi : « L’activité philosophique, l’exercice soutenu par des générations de penseurs de l’enquête rationnelle, doit avoir par lui-même nourri l’individualisme, car la raison, si elle est universelle en principe, œuvre en pratique à travers la personne  particulière qui l’exerce, et prend le premier plan sur toutes choses, au moins implicitement » (15). Si Platon et Aristote, après Socrate, avaient su reconnaître que l’homme est essentiellement un être social, leurs successeurs hellénistiques posèrent comme idéal supérieur celui du sage détaché de la vie sociale. La ruine de la polis grecque et l’unification du monde – Grecs et Barbares confondus – sous l’égide de l’empire universel d’Alexandre, événement historique sans précédent, aura sans doute favorisé l’avènement de cet individualisme.

L’individualisme chrétien

Ainsi que l’a montré Louis Dumont dans ses travaux, c’est avec le christianisme que l’individualisme fait véritablement son apparition dans l’espace mental européen, de pair avec l’égalitarisme et l’universalisme.

L’universitaire écrit : « Il n’y a pas de doute sur la conception fondamentale de l’homme née de l’enseignement du Christ : comme l’a dit Troeltsch, l’homme est un individu-en-relation-avec-Dieu, ce qui signifie, à notre usage, un individu essentiellement hors du monde » (16). Et d’ajouter : « La valeur infinie de l’individu est en même temps l’abaissement, la dé-valuation du monde tel qu’il est : un dualisme est posé, une question est établie qui est constitutive du christianisme et traversera toute l’histoire » (17). Il précise : « Il suit de l’enseignement du Christ et ensuite de Paul que le chrétien est un “individu-en-relation-à Dieu. Il y a, dit Ernst Troelsch, “individualisme absolu et universalisme absolu“ en relation à Dieu. L’âme individuelle reçoit valeur éternelle de sa relation filiale à dieu, et dans cette relation se fonde également la fraternité humaine : les chrétiens se rejoignent dans le Christ dont ils sont les membres » (18). Conclusion : « L’individu comme valeur était alors conçu à l’extérieur de l’organisation sociale et politique donnée, il était en dehors et au-dessus d’elle, un individu-hors-du-monde » (19). A l’aide de l’exemple indien, Dumont soutient que l’individualisme n’aurait pas pu se développer autrement à partir du holisme traditionnel.

La relation de l’individu et du monde va subir toute une évolution dans la conception chrétienne. Dans un premier temps, correspondant à l’époque du christianisme primitif, l’opposition au monde est très forte. Les obligations sociales, confondues avec le service des valeurs païennes, sont niées ; la vie dans le monde est à la fois une condition et un obstacle au salut individuel. Dans un deuxième temps, l’Eglise ayant triomphé du paganisme, revendique son droit au pouvoir politique. La conversion de l’Empereur et ensuite de l’Empire impose à l’Eglise une relation plus étroite à l’Etat. Elle se « mondanise » : ce qui est du monde devient simplement subordonné à ce qui est hors-du-monde. Du même coup, l’individualisme, porteur de l’élément extramondain, peut se développer librement au détriment de la communauté. Cette « mondanisation » s’opère en deux étapes. D’abord, le pape Gélase développe une théorie de la relation entre l’Eglise et l’Empereur qui aboutit à une dyarchie hiérarchique, faisant la distinction hiérarchique entre l’auctoritas du prêtre et la potestas du souverain. Le prêtre est subordonné au souverain dans les affaires mondaines qui concernent l’ordre public. On a affaire à une « complémentarité hiérarchique » (20). Puis, au VIIIème siècle, se produit un changement majeur. Les papes rompent leurs liens avec Byzance et s’arrogent le pouvoir temporel suprême en Occident. L’Eglise prétend maintenant régner, directement ou indirectement, sur le monde, ce qui signifie que l’individualisme chrétien est maintenant engagé dans le monde à un degré sans précédent.

Tels sont les stades de la transformation de l’individu-hors-du-monde à l’individu-dans-le-monde : l’individu chrétien, étranger au monde à l’origine, s’y trouve progressivement de plus en plus profondément impliqué. L’Histoire de l’Europe chrétienne va devenir l’Histoire de la diffusion progressive de l’individualisme. « Par étages, la vie mondaine sera ainsi contaminée par l’élément extramondain jusqu’à ce que, finalement, l’hétérogénéité du monde s’évanouisse entièrement. Alors le champ entier sera unifié, le holisme aura disparu de la représentation, la vie dans le monde sera conçue comme pouvant être entièrement conformée à la valeur suprême, l’individu hors-du-monde sera devenu le moderne individu-dans-le-monde » (21).

Laïcisation de l’individualisme

L’étape suivante est la laïcisation. A partir de la Renaissance, le christianisme, confronté à la Réforme protestante, ne peut plus organiser naturellement la vie collective. La religion « cesse le garant d’une structure hiérarchique : elle révèle, au plan politique, sa charge égalitaire » écrit Paul Claval (22).

La laïcisation des valeurs chrétiennes fait de l’individualisme, de l’égalitarisme et de l’universalisme des notions concrètes de la vie profane. L’Etat moderne est une « église transformée », dixit Louis Dumont, qui ne règne que sur des individus. L’individualisme progresse, à partir du XIIIème siècle, à travers l’émancipation d’une catégorie : le politique, et la naissance d’une institution, l’Etat. Le processus culmine chez Calvin qui fait du monde une vaste théocratie, où règne la valeur individualiste. Avec lui, « la dichotomie hiérarchique qui caractérisait notre champ d’étude prend fin : l’élément mondain antagonique, auquel l’individualisme devait jusque-là faire une place, disparaît entièrement dans la théocratie de Calvin. Le champ est absolument unifié. L’individu est maintenant dans le monde, et la valeur individualiste règne sans restriction ni limitation. Nous avons devant nous l’individu-dans-le-monde » (23).

Le libéralisme a hérité de la conception individualiste, égalitariste  et universaliste, induite par le christianisme. Pour Dumont, à partir du XVIIIème siècle, l’émancipation de la catégorie économique représente, à son tour, par rapport à la religion et à la politique, à l’Eglise et à l’Etat, un progrès de l’individualisme. « La vue économique est l’expression achevée de l’individualisme » précise-t-il (24). Dans un premier temps historique, le libéralisme hérite de la justification religieuse de l’individualisme : « Pour Locke, concevoir la société comme juxtaposition d’individus abstraits fut possible seulement parce que, aux liens concrets de la société, il pouvait substituer la moralité en tant qu’elle réunit ces individus de l’espèce humaine sous le regard de Dieu » (25). Il insiste : « La substitution à l’homme comme être social de l’homme comme individu a été possible parce que le christianisme garantissait l’individu en tant qu’être moral » (26). La moralité prend alors appui sur la foi « pour offrir un substitut au holisme dans l’espèce humaine en tant que porteur de l’obligation morale » (27). Dans un deuxième temps, lorsque la religion, victime du processus de désacralisation, de désensorcellement, de désenchantement (Entzauberung) du monde, mis en œuvre par le rationalisme, commence à perdre de son influence, les bases morales du libéralisme tendent à s’effacer tandis que, parallèlement, le goût de l’effort et de la discipline du travail individuel sont progressivement remplacés par la recherche hédoniste du bonheur individuel. Avec l’affaiblissement de la croyance en Dieu, l’individualisme changera de pôle : il ne s’exprime plus sous la forme d’une volonté tendue vers l’effort, la glorification de Dieu dans le monde, mais sous celle d’un pur hédonisme, d’un désir de jouissance et la recherche du bonheur.

La sécularisation des idéologies religieuses, la laïcisation de l’individualisme entraîne, nécessairement, le matérialisme. La recherche individuelle du bonheur, sans prise en considération de l’intérêt collectif, fait de la conquête des choses, et non plus du dépassement de soi, le but essentiel de l’existence. C’est ainsi que La Déclaration d’Indépendance américaine, proclamée à Philadelphie, le 4 juillet 1776, insiste moins sur les droits politiques du citoyen que sur la recherche pour l’homme du bonheur, sur le droit de l’individu à résister à toute souveraineté qui entraverait son libre arbitre et son bon plaisir. On y trouve, en effet, cette formule révélatrice : « Nous considérons comme des vérités évidentes par elles-mêmes que les hommes naissent égaux ; que leur Créateur les a dotés de certains droits inaliénables, parmi lesquels sont la vie, la liberté, la recherche du bonheur (pursuit of happiness); que les gouvernements humains ont été institués pour garantir ces droits ». Chez les Pères de l’Indépendance on retrouve donc l’idée, déjà formulée chez Hobbes, Locke ou Rousseau, que l’individu constitue l’unité de base de la vie. Or, remarque à juste titre Guillaume Faye, « une telle idée, aujourd’hui, rejetée par les sciences sociales et l’éthologie, provient, comme l’on montré Halbwachs et Baudrillard, de la transposition politique du dogme chrétien du salut individuel. Le destin collectif et historique se trouve mis entre parenthèses, rendu provisoire, au profit du destin existentiel de l’individu » (28).

Karl Marx n’échappe pas à cette vue-du-monde. Le sociologue et économiste révolutionnaire-conservateur autrichien Othmar Spann avait déjà souligné la prédominance des traits individualistes chez lui (29). De même, Dumont soutient la thèse que « Marx est essentiellement individualiste » (30). Dans le marxisme, peuples et nations ne sont qu’accessoires par rapport à cette humanité potentielle, simple somme d’individus elle aussi, qu’est la classe. « Le but de Marx demeure l’émancipation de l’homme par la révolution prolétarienne, écrit Dumont, et ce but est construit sur la présupposition de l’individu » (31). La conception de l’homme comme individu est ainsi à la base de la théorie de la valeur-travail, chez Ricardo comme chez Marx. Pour lui, la cause est entendue : « Le socialiste Marx croit à l’Individu d’une manière qui n’a pas de précédent chez Hobbes, Rousseau et Hegel et même, dirait-on, chez Locke » (32).

Postmodernité et néo-individualisme

Dans les années 70, les sociétés occidentales développées entrent dans un processus de changement radical quant à leur mode d’organisation social, culturel et politique, qui équivaut à un changement complet de civilisation. C’est alors que le concept de postmodernité fait son apparition pour désigner ce changement complet de civilisation. Il renvoie à plusieurs éléments : l’effondrement de la rationalité et la faillite des « grands récits » ou « métarécits » (33), la fin de l’ère industrielle productiviste, la consommation de masse, la montée de l’individualisme, le dépérissement des normes d’autorité et de discipline, la désaffection pour les passions politiques et le militantisme, la désyndicalisation.

Le philosophe Gilles Lipovetsky a produit une magistrale analyse de ce phénomène dans des essais brillants comme L’ère du vide et L’Empire de l’éphémère. Il estime que la société postmoderne est caractérisée avant tout par un néo-individualisme hédoniste et autiste, ce qu’il appelle la « seconde révolution individualiste » : engouement pour les nouvelles technologies et les sports de glisse, indifférence à autrui, désinvestissement de la vie publique, perte de sens des grandes institutions sociales et politiques, dissolution de la mémoire collective, relativisme moral, narcissisme exacerbé, « cocooning » de la jeunesse. Autant de thèmes à rapprocher des travaux du sociologue américain Christopher Lasch qui, dans La culture du narcissisme, met l’accent sur l’apparition d’un nouveau type d’individu caractérisé par une « personnalité narcissique ». Loin de s’alarmer de l’inéluctable progression de cet individualisme de masse, Lipovetsky s’en félicite. Finie la contrainte autoritaire, voici venu le temps de l’explication et du dialogue. Pour lui, cet individualisme contemporain est une « chance démocratique ».

Mais, depuis les attentats du 11 septembre 2001, les choses auraient changé. L’individu jouissif de la postmodernité serait devenu un individu anxieux. Au désir d’affranchissement de toutes les normes, aurait succédé une demande généralisée de protection, une obsession de la santé, et une inquiétude vis-à-vis du futur. Nous aurions basculé dans les Temps hypermodernes (34), caractérisés par l’ « hyper » : hyper-puissance américaine, hyperconsommation et hypernarcissisme. Fin de la postmodernité, bienvenue à l’hypermodernité ! Lipovetsky insiste sur la recomposition de notre rapport au temps. C’est le règne de l’économie du stock zéro, de la production à flux tendu, de la consommation immédiate. Le passé étant invalidé, le futur apparaissant comme incertain voire risqué, reste le présent qui devient l’axe central du rapport au temps. L’ici et maintenant est prédominant. Le triomphe de l’instantanéité signe l’abandon de toute attitude prométhéenne. Le présent hédoniste l’emporte.

Robert Steuckers a parfaitement résumé la généalogie intellectuelle de l’individualisme moderne tel que nous venons de la décrire : « L’Occident a raisonné depuis mille ans en termes de salut individuel, lors de la phase religieuse de son développement, en termes de profit individuel, lors de sa phase bourgeoise et matérialiste, en termes de narcissisme hédoniste, dans la phase de déliquescence totale qu’il traverse aujourd’hui ».

Edouard Rix, Terre & Peuple magazine, solstice d’été 2011, n°48, pp. 11-15.

NOTES

(1) M. Weber, L’Ethique protestante et l’esprit du capitalisme, Plon, Paris, 1964, p. 122, note 23.

(2) H.S. Maine, Ancient Law, Oxford University Press, Londres, 1959, p. 106.

(3) Ibid, p. 103.

(4) Ibid, p. 106.

(5) Ibid, p. 104.

(6) Ibid, p. 141.

(7) M. Abélès, Anthropologie de l’Etat, Petite bibliothèque Payot, Paris, 2005, p. 46.

(8) L. Dumont, Homo hierarchicus. Essai sur le système des castes, Gallimard, coll. Bibliothèque des sciences humaines, Paris, 1966, p. 23.

(9) Ibid.

(10) L. Dumont, Homo aequalis. Genèse et épanouissement de l’idéologie économique, Gallimard, Paris, 1977, p. 12.

(11) Ibid.

(12) L. Dumont, Essais sur l’individualisme. Une perspective anthropologique sur l’idéologie moderne, Seuil, coll. Esprit, Paris, 1983, p. 37.

(13) Ibid.

(14) G. H. Sabine, A History of Political Theory, Londres, 1963, p. 137.

(15) L. Dumont, Essais sur l’individualisme, op.cit., p. 39.

(16) L. Dumont, « La genèse chrétienne de l’individualisme. Une vue modifiée de nos origines »,  Le Débat, septembre-octobre 1981, 15, p. 127.

(17) Ibid, p. 129.

(18) L. Dumont, Essais sur l’individualisme, op.cit., p. 40.

(19) Ibid, p. 58.

(20) Ibid, p. 53.

(21) L. Dumont, « La genèse chrétienne de l’individualisme », op. cit., p. 130.

(22) P. Claval, « Idéologie et démocratie », in Michel Prigent, éd., Les intellectuels et la démocratie, PUF, Paris, 1980, p. 81.

(23) L. Dumont, Essais sur l’individualisme, op.cit., p. 60.

(24) Ibid, p. 23.

(25) L. Dumont, Homo aequalis, op. cit., p. 81.

(26) Ibid.22)

(27) Ibid, p. 80.

(28) G. Faye, Le Système à tuer les peuples, Copernic, Paris, 1981, p. 100.

(29) O. Spann, Der wahre Staat, 1931, pp. 130-131.

(30) L. Dumont, Homo aequalis, op. cit., p. 139.

(31) Ibid, p.197.

(32) L. Dumont, Essais sur l’individualisme, op.cit., p. 111.

(33) J.F. Lyotard, La condition postmoderne, éditions de Minuit, Paris, 1979.

(34) G. Lipovetsky, Les Temps hypermodernes. Entretien avec Sébastien Charles, Grasset, Paris, 2004.

BIBLIOGRAPHIE

M. Abélès, Anthropologie de l’Etat, Petite bibliothèque Payot, Paris, 2005, 253 p.

L. Dumont, Homo hierarchicus. Essai sur le système des castes, Gallimard, coll. Bibliothèque des sciences humaines, Paris, 1966, 445 p.

L. Dumont, Homo aequalis. Genèse et épanouissement de l’idéologie économique, Gallimard, Paris, 1977, 270 p.

L. Dumont, Essais sur l’individualisme. Une perspective anthropologique sur l’idéologie moderne, Seuil, coll. Esprit, Paris, 1983, 272 p.

C. Lasch, La culture du narcissisme, Champs Flammarion, Paris, 2006, 332 p.

G. Lipovetsky, L’ère du vide. Essais sur l’individualisme contemporain, Gallimard, Paris, 1983, 246 p.

G. Lipovetsky, L’empire de l’éphémère : la mode et son destin dans les sociétés modernes, Gallimard, Paris, 1987, 345 p.

G. Lipovetsky, Les Temps hypermodernes. Entretien avec Sébastien Charles, Grasset, Paris, 2004, 186 p.

J.F. Lyotard, La condition postmoderne, éditions de Minuit, Paris, 1979, 128 p.

H.S. Maine, Ancient Law, Oxford University Press, Londres, 1959, p. 106.

The New Dark Age: The Frankfurt School and 'Political Correctness'

Michael Minnicino

Ex: http://www.wermodandwermod.com/

The people of North America and Western Europe now accept a level of ugliness in their daily lives which is almost without precedent in the history of Western civilization. Most of us have become so inured, that the death of millions from starvation and disease draws from us no more than a sigh, or a murmur of protest. Our own city streets, home to legions of the homeless, are ruled by Dope, Inc., the largest industry in the world, and on those streets Americans now murder each other at a rate not seen since the Dark Ages.

At the same time, a thousand smaller horrors are so commonplace as to go unnoticed. Our children spend as much time sitting in front of television sets as they do in school, watching with glee, scenes of torture and death which might have shocked an audience in the Roman Coliseum. Music is everywhere, almost unavoidable—but it does not uplift, nor even tranquilize—it claws at the ears, sometimes spitting out an obscenity. Our plastic arts are ugly, our architecture is ugly, our clothes are ugly. There have certainly been periods in history where mankind has lived through similar kinds of brutishness, but our time is crucially different. Our post-World War II era is the first in history in which these horrors are completely avoidable. Our time is the first to have the technology and resources to feed, house, educate, and humanely employ every person on earth, no matter what the growth of population. Yet, when shown the ideas and proven technologies that can solve the most horrendous problems, most people retreat into implacable passivity. We have become not only ugly, but impotent.

Nonetheless, there is no reason why our current moral-cultural situation had to lawfully or naturally turn out as it has; and there is no reason why this tyranny of ugliness should continue one instant longer.

Consider the situation just one hundred years ago, in the early 1890's. In music, Claude Debussy was completing his Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun, and Arnold Schönberg was beginning to experiment with atonalism; at the same time, Dvorak was working on his Ninth Symphony, while Brahms and Verdi still lived. Edvard Munch was showing The Scream, and Paul Gauguin his Self-Portrait with Halo, but in America, Thomas Eakins was still painting and teaching. Mechanists like Helmholtz and Mach held major university chairs of science, alongside the students of Riemann and Cantor. Pope Leo XIII's De Rerum Novarum was being promulgated, even as sections of the Socialist Second International were turning terrorist, and preparing for class war.

The optimistic belief that one could compose music like Beethoven, paint like Rembrandt, study the universe like Plato and Nicolaus of Cusa, and change world society without violence, was alive in the 1890's—admittedly, it was weak, and under siege, but it was hardly dead. Yet, within twenty short years, these Classical traditions of human civilization had been all but swept away, and the West had committed itself to a series of wars of inconceivable carnage.

What started about a hundred years ago, was what might be called a counter-Renaissance. The Renaissance of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries was a religious celebration of the human soul and mankind's potential for growth. Beauty in art could not be conceived of as anything less than the expression of the most-advanced scientific principles, as demonstrated by the geometry upon which Leonardo's perspective and Brunelleschi's great Dome of Florence Cathedral are based. The finest minds of the day turned their thoughts to the heavens and the mighty waters, and mapped the solar system and the route to the New World, planning great projects to turn the course of rivers for the betterment of mankind. About a hundred years ago, it was as though a long checklist had been drawn up, with all of the wonderful achievements of the Renaissance itemized—each to be reversed. As part of this "New Age" movement, as it was then called, the concept of the human soul was undermined by the most vociferous intellectual campaign in history; art was forcibly separated from science, and science itself was made the object of deep suspicion. Art was made ugly because, it was said, life had become ugly.

The cultural shift away from the Renaissance ideas that built the modern world, was due to a kind of freemasonry of ugliness. In the beginning, it was a formal political conspiracy to popularize theories that were specifically designed to weaken the soul of Judeo-Christian civilization in such a way as to make people believe that creativity was not possible, that adherence to universal truth was evidence of authoritarianism, and that reason itself was suspect. This conspiracy was decisive in planning and developing, as means of social manipulation, the vast new sister industries of radio, television, film, recorded music, advertising, and public opinion polling. The pervasive psychological hold of the media was purposely fostered to create the passivity and pessimism which afflict our populations today. So successful was this conspiracy, that it has become embedded in our culture; it no longer needs to be a "conspiracy," for it has taken on a life of its own. Its successes are not debatable—you need only turn on the radio or television. Even the nomination of a Supreme Court Justice is deformed into an erotic soap opera, with the audience rooting from the sidelines for their favorite character.

Our universities, the cradle of our technological and intellectual future, have become overwhelmed by Comintern-style New Age "Political Correctness." With the collapse of the Soviet Union, our campuses now represent the largest concentration of Marxist dogma in the world. The irrational adolescent outbursts of the 1960's have become institutionalized into a "permanent revolution." Our professors glance over their shoulders, hoping the current mode will blow over before a student's denunciation obliterates a life's work; some audio-tape their lectures, fearing accusations of "insensitivity" by some enraged "Red Guard." Students at the University of Virginia recently petitioned successfully to drop the requirement to read Homer, Chaucer, and other DEMS ("Dead European Males") because such writings are considered ethnocentric, phallocentric, and generally inferior to the "more relevant" Third World, female, or homosexual authors.

This is not the academy of a republic; this is Hitler's Gestapo and Stalin's NKVD rooting out "deviationists," and banning books—the only thing missing is the public bonfire.

We will have to face the fact that the ugliness we see around us has been consciously fostered and organized in such a way, that a majority of the population is losing the cognitive ability to transmit to the next generation, the ideas and methods upon which our civilization was built. The loss of that ability is the primary indicator of a Dark Age. And, a new Dark Age is exactly what we are in. In such situations, the record of history is unequivocal: either we create a Renaissance—a rebirth of the fundamental principles upon which civilization originated—or, our civilization dies.

I. The Frankfurt School: Bolshevik Intelligentsia

The single, most important organizational component of this conspiracy was a Communist thinktank called the Institute for Social Research (I.S.R.), but popularly known as the Frankfurt School.

In the heady days immediately after the Bolshevik Revolution in Russia, it was widely believed that proletarian revolution would momentarily sweep out of the Urals into Europe and, ultimately, North America. It did not; the only two attempts at workers' government in the West— in Munich and Budapest—lasted only months. The Communist International (Comintern) therefore began several operations to determine why this was so. One such was headed by Georg Lukacs, a Hungarian aristocrat, son of one of the Hapsburg Empire's leading bankers. Trained in Germany and already an important literary theorist, Lukacs became a Communist during World War I, writing as he joined the party, "Who will save us from Western civilization?" Lukacs was well-suited to the Comintern task: he had been one of the Commissars of Culture during the short-lived Hungarian Soviet in Budapest in 1919; in fact, modern historians link the shortness of the Budapest experiment to Lukacs' orders mandating sex education in the schools, easy access to contraception, and the loosening of divorce laws—all of which revulsed Hungary's Roman Catholic population.

Fleeing to the Soviet Union after the counter-revolution, Lukacs was secreted into Germany in 1922, where he chaired a meeting of Communist-oriented sociologists and intellectuals. This meeting founded the Institute for Social Research. Over the next decade, the Institute worked out what was to become the Comintern's most successful psychological warfare operation against the capitalist West.

Lukacs identified that any political movement capable of bringing Bolshevism to the West would have to be, in his words, "demonic"; it would have to "possess the religious power which is capable of filling the entire soul; a power that characterized primitive Christianity." However, Lukacs suggested, such a "messianic" political movement could only succeed when the individual believes that his or her actions are determined by "not a personal destiny, but the destiny of the community" in a world "that has been abandoned by God [emphasis added-MJM]." Bolshevism worked in Russia because that nation was dominated by a peculiar gnostic form of Christianty typified by the writings of Fyodor Dostoyevsky. "The model for the new man is Alyosha Karamazov," said Lukacs, referring to the Dostoyevsky character who willingly gave over his personal identity to a holy man, and thus ceased to be "unique, pure, and therefore abstract."

This abandonment of the soul's uniqueness also solves the problem of "the diabolic forces lurking in all violence" which must be unleashed in order to create a revolution. In this context, Lukacs cited the Grand Inquisitor section of Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov, noting that the Inquisitor who is interrogating Jesus, has resolved the issue of good and evil: once man has understood his alienation from God, then any act in the service of the "destiny of the community" is justified; such an act can be "neither crime nor madness.... For crime and madness are objectifications of transcendental homelessness."

According to an eyewitness, during meetings of the Hungarian Soviet leadership in 1919 to draw up lists for the firing squad, Lukacs would often quote the Grand Inquisitor: "And we who, for their happiness, have taken their sins upon ourselves, we stand before you and say, 'Judge us if you can and if you dare.' "

The Problem of Genesis

What differentiated the West from Russia, Lukacs identified, was a Judeo-Christian cultural matrix which emphasized exactly the uniqueness and sacredness of the individual which Lukacs abjured. At its core, the dominant Western ideology maintained that the individual, through the exercise of his or her reason, could discern the Divine Will in an unmediated relationship. What was worse, from Lukacs' standpoint: this reasonable relationship necessarily implied that the individual could and should change the physical universe in pursuit of the Good; that Man should have dominion over Nature, as stated in the Biblical injunction in Genesis. The problem was, that as long as the individual had the belief—or even the hope of the belief—that his or her divine spark of reason could solve the problems facing society, then that society would never reach the state of hopelessness and alienation which Lukacs recognized as the necessary prerequisite for socialist revolution.

The task of the Frankfurt School, then, was first, to undermine the Judeo-Christian legacy through an "abolition of culture" (Aufhebung der Kultur in Lukacs' German); and, second, to determine new cultural forms which would increase the alienation of the population, thus creating a "new barbarism." To this task, there gathered in and around the Frankfurt School an incredible assortment of not only Communists, but also non-party socialists, radical phenomenologists, Zionists, renegade Freudians, and at least a few members of a self-identified "cult of Astarte." The variegated membership reflected, to a certain extent, the sponsorship: although the Institute for Social Research started with Comintern support, over the next three decades its sources of funds included various German and American universities, the Rockefeller Foundation, Columbia Broadcasting System, the American Jewish Committee, several American intelligence services, the Office of the U.S. High Commissioner for Germany, the International Labour Organization, and the Hacker Institute, a posh psychiatric clinic in Beverly Hills.

Similarly, the Institute's political allegiances: although top personnel maintained what might be called a sentimental relationship to the Soviet Union (and there is evidence that some of them worked for Soviet intelligence into the 1960's), the Institute saw its goals as higher than that of Russian foreign policy. Stalin, who was horrified at the undisciplined, "cosmopolitan" operation set up by his predecessors, cut the Institute off in the late 1920's, forcing Lukacs into "self-criticism," and briefly jailing him as a German sympathizer during World War II.

Lukacs survived to briefly take up his old post as Minister of Culture during the anti-Stalinist Imre Nagy regime in Hungary. Of the other top Institute figures, the political perambulations of Herbert Marcuse are typical. He started as a Communist; became a protégé of philosopher Martin Heidegger even as the latter was joining the Nazi Party; coming to America, he worked for the World War II Office of Strategic Services (OSS), and later became the U.S. State Department's top analyst of Soviet policy during the height of the McCarthy period; in the 1960's, he turned again, to become the most important guru of the New Left; and he ended his days helping to found the environmentalist extremist Green Party in West Germany.

In all this seeming incoherence of shifting positions and contradictory funding, there is no ideological conflict. The invariant is the desire of all parties to answer Lukacs' original question: "Who will save us from Western civilization?"

Theodor Adorno and Walter Benjamin

Perhaps the most important, if least-known, of the Frankfurt School's successes was the shaping of the electronic media of radio and television into the powerful instruments of social control which they represent today. This grew out of the work originally done by two men who came to the Institute in the late 1920's, Theodor Adorno and Walter Benjamin.

After completing studies at the University of Frankfurt, Walter Benjamin planned to emigrate to Palestine in 1924 with his friend Gershom Scholem (who later became one of Israel's most famous philosophers, as well as Judaism's leading gnostic), but was prevented by a love affair with Asja Lacis, a Latvian actress and Comintern stringer. Lacis whisked him off to the Italian island of Capri, a cult center from the time of the Emperor Tiberius, then used as a Comintern training base; the heretofore apolitical Benjamin wrote Scholem from Capri, that he had found "an existential liberation and an intensive insight into the actuality of radical communism."

Lacis later took Benjamin to Moscow for further indoctrination, where he met playwright Bertolt Brecht, with whom he would begin a long collaboration; soon thereafter, while working on the first German translation of the drug-enthusiast French poet Baudelaire, Benjamin began serious experimentation with hallucinogens. In 1927, he was in Berlin as part of a group led by Adorno, studying the works of Lukacs; other members of the study group included Brecht and his composer-partner Kurt Weill; Hans Eisler, another composer who would later become a Hollywood film score composer and co-author with Adorno of the textbook Composition for the Film; the avant-garde photographer Imre Moholy-Nagy; and the conductor Otto Klemperer.

From 1928 to 1932, Adorno and Benjamin had an intensive collaboration, at the end of which they began publishing articles in the Institute's journal, the Zeitschrift fär Sozialforschung. Benjamin was kept on the margins of the Institute, largely due to Adorno, who would later appropriate much of his work. As Hitler came to power, the Institute's staff fled, but, whereas most were quickly spirited away to new deployments in the U.S. and England, there were no job offers for Benjamin, probably due to the animus of Adorno. He went to France, and, after the German invasion, fled to the Spanish border; expecting momentary arrest by the Gestapo, he despaired and died in a dingy hotel room of self-administered drug overdose.

Benjamin's work remained almost completely unknown until 1955, when Scholem and Adorno published an edition of his material in Germany. The full revival occurred in 1968, when Hannah Arendt, Heidegger's former mistress and a collaborator of the Institute in America, published a major article on Benjamin in the New Yorker magazine, followed in the same year by the first English translations of his work. Today, every university bookstore in the country boasts a full shelf devoted to translations of every scrap Benjamin wrote, plus exegesis, all with 1980's copyright dates.

Adorno was younger than Benjamin, and as aggressive as the older man was passive. Born Teodoro Wiesengrund-Adorno to a Corsican family, he was taught the piano at an early age by an aunt who lived with the family and had been the concert accompanist to the international opera star Adelina Patti. It was generally thought that Theodor would become a professional musician, and he studied with Bernard Sekles, Paul Hindemith's teacher. However, in 1918, while still a gymnasium student, Adorno met Siegfried Kracauer. Kracauer was part of a Kantian-Zionist salon which met at the house of Rabbi Nehemiah Nobel in Frankfurt; other members of the Nobel circle included philosopher Martin Buber, writer Franz Rosenzweig, and two students, Leo Lowenthal and Erich Fromm. Kracauer, Lowenthal, and Fromm would join the I.S.R. two decades later. Adorno engaged Kracauer to tutor him in the philosophy of Kant; Kracauer also introduced him to the writings of Lukacs and to Walter Benjamin, who was around the Nobel clique.

In 1924, Adorno moved to Vienna, to study with the atonalist composers Alban Berg and Arnold Schönberg, and became connected to the avant-garde and occult circle around the old Marxist Karl Kraus. Here, he not only met his future collaborator, Hans Eisler, but also came into contact with the theories of Freudian extremist Otto Gross. Gross, a long-time cocaine addict, had died in a Berlin gutter in 1920, while on his way to help the revolution in Budapest; he had developed the theory that mental health could only be achieved through the revival of the ancient cult of Astarte, which would sweep away monotheism and the "bourgeois family."

Saving Marxist Aesthetics

By 1928, Adorno and Benjamin had satisfied their intellectual wanderlust, and settled down at the I.S.R. in Germany to do some work. As subject, they chose an aspect of the problem posed by Lukacs: how to give aesthetics a firmly materialistic basis. It was a question of some importance, at the time. Official Soviet discussions of art and culture, with their wild gyrations into "socialist realism" and "proletkult," were idiotic, and only served to discredit Marxism's claim to philosophy among intellectuals. Karl Marx's own writings on the subject were sketchy and banal, at best.

In essence, Adorno and Benjamin's problem was Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz. At the beginning of the eighteenth century, Leibniz had once again obliterated the centuries-old gnostic dualism dividing mind and body, by demonstrating that matter does not think. A creative act in art or science apprehends the truth of the physical universe, but it is not determined by that physical universe. By self-consciously concentrating the past in the present to effect the future, the creative act, properly defined, is as immortal as the soul which envisions the act. This has fatal philosophical implications for Marxism, which rests entirely on the hypothesis that mental activity is determined by the social relations excreted by mankind's production of its physical existence.

Marx sidestepped the problem of Leibniz, as did Adorno and Benjamin, although the latter did it with a lot more panache. It is wrong, said Benjamin in his first articles on the subject, to start with the reasonable, hypothesizing mind as the basis of the development of civilization; this is an unfortunate legacy of Socrates. As an alternative, Benjamin posed an Aristotelian fable in interpretation of Genesis: Assume that Eden were given to Adam as the primordial physical state. The origin of science and philosophy does not lie in the investigation and mastery of nature, but in the naming of the objects of nature; in the primordial state, to name a thing was to say all there was to say about that thing. In support of this, Benjamin cynically recalled the opening lines of the Gospel according to St. John, carefully avoiding the philosophically-broader Greek, and preferring the Vulgate (so that, in the phrase "In the beginning was the Word," the connotations of the original Greek word logos—speech, reason, ratiocination, translated as "Word"—are replaced by the narrower meaning of the Latin word verbum). After the expulsion from Eden and God's requirement that Adam eat his bread earned by the sweat of his face (Benjamin's Marxist metaphor for the development of economies), and God's further curse of Babel on Nimrod (that is, the development of nation-states with distinct languages, which Benjamin and Marx viewed as a negative process away from the "primitive communism" of Eden), humanity became "estranged" from the physical world.

Thus, Benjamin continued, objects still give off an "aura" of their primordial form, but the truth is now hopelessly elusive. In fact, speech, written language, art, creativity itself—that by which we master physicality—merely furthers the estrangement by attempting, in Marxist jargon, to incorporate objects of nature into the social relations determined by the class structure dominant at that point in history. The creative artist or scientist, therefore, is a vessel, like Ion the rhapsode as he described himself to Socrates, or like a modern "chaos theory" advocate: the creative act springs out of the hodgepodge of culture as if by magic. The more that bourgeois man tries to convey what he intends about an object, the less truthful he becomes; or, in one of Benjamin's most oft-quoted statements, "Truth is the death of intention."

This philosophical sleight-of-hand allows one to do several destructive things. By making creativity historically-specific, you rob it of both immortality and morality. One cannot hypothesize universal truth, or natural law, for truth is completely relative to historical development. By discarding the idea of truth and error, you also may throw out the "obsolete" concept of good and evil; you are, in the words of Friedrich Nietzsche, "beyond good and evil." Benjamin is able, for instance, to defend what he calls the "Satanism" of the French Symbolists and their Surrealist successors, for at the core of this Satanism "one finds the cult of evil as a political device ... to disinfect and isolate against all moralizing dilettantism" of the bourgeoisie. To condemn the Satanism of Rimbaud as evil, is as incorrect as to extol a Beethoven quartet or a Schiller poem as good; for both judgments are blind to the historical forces working unconsciously on the artist.

Thus, we are told, the late Beethoven's chord structure was striving to be atonal, but Beethoven could not bring himself consciously to break with the structured world of Congress of Vienna Europe (Adorno's thesis); similarly, Schiller really wanted to state that creativity was the liberation of the erotic, but as a true child of the Enlightenment and Immanuel Kant, he could not make the requisite renunciation of reason (Marcuse's thesis). Epistemology becomes a poor relation of public opinion, since the artist does not consciously create works in order to uplift society, but instead unconsciously transmits the ideological assumptions of the culture into which he was born. The issue is no longer what is universally true, but what can be plausibly interpreted by the self-appointed guardians of the Zeitgeist.

"The Bad New Days"

Thus, for the Frankfort School, the goal of a cultural elite in the modern, "capitalist" era must be to strip away the belief that art derives from the self-conscious emulation of God the Creator; "religious illumination," says Benjamin, must be shown to "reside in a profane illumination, a materialistic, anthropological inspiration, to which hashish, opium, or whatever else can give an introductory lesson." At the same time, new cultural forms must be found to increase the alienation of the population, in order for it to understand how truly alienated it is to live without socialism. "Do not build on the good old days, but on the bad new ones," said Benjamin.

The proper direction in painting, therefore, is that taken by the late Van Gogh, who began to paint objects in disintegration, with the equivalent of a hashish-smoker's eye that "loosens and entices things out of their familiar world." In music, "it is not suggested that one can compose better today" than Mozart or Beethoven, said Adorno, but one must compose atonally, for atonalism is sick, and "the sickness, dialectically, is at the same time the cure....The extraordinarily violent reaction protest which such music confronts in the present society ... appears nonetheless to suggest that the dialectical function of this music can already be felt ... negatively, as 'destruction.' "

The purpose of modern art, literature, and music must be to destroy the uplifting—therefore, bourgeois — potential of art, literature, and music, so that man, bereft of his connection to the divine, sees his only creative option to be political revolt. "To organize pessimism means nothing other than to expel the moral metaphor from politics and to discover in political action a sphere reserved one hundred percent for images." Thus, Benjamin collaborated with Brecht to work these theories into practical form, and their joint effort culminated in the Verfremdungseffekt ("estrangement effect"), Brecht's attempt to write his plays so as to make the audience leave the theatre demoralized and aimlessly angry.

Political Correctness

The Adorno-Benjamin analysis represents almost the entire theoretical basis of all the politically correct aesthetic trends which now plague our universities. The Poststructuralism of Roland Barthes, Michel Foucault, and Jacques Derrida, the Semiotics of Umberto Eco, the Deconstructionism of Paul DeMan, all openly cite Benjamin as the source of their work. The Italian terrorist Eco's best-selling novel, The Name of the Rose, is little more than a paean to Benjamin; DeMan, the former Nazi collaborator in Belgium who became a prestigious Yale professor, began his career translating Benjamin; Barthes' infamous 1968 statement that "[t]he author is dead," is meant as an elaboration of Benjamin's dictum on intention. Benjamin has actually been called the heir of Leibniz and of Wilhelm von Humboldt, the philologist collaborator of Schiller whose educational reforms engendered the tremendous development of Germany in the nineteenth century. Even as recently as September 1991, the Washington Post referred to Benjamin as "the finest German literary theorist of the century (and many would have left off that qualifying German)."

Readers have undoubtedly heard one or another horror story about how an African-American Studies Department has procured a ban on Othello, because it is "racist," or how a radical feminist professor lectured a Modern Language Association meeting on the witches as the "true heroines" of Macbeth. These atrocities occur because the perpetrators are able to plausibly demonstrate, in the tradition of Benjamin and Adorno, that Shakespeare's intent is irrelevant; what is important, is the racist or phallocentric "subtext" of which Shakespeare was unconscious when he wrote.

When the local Women's Studies or Third World Studies Department organizes students to abandon classics in favor of modern Black and feminist authors, the reasons given are pure Benjamin. It is not that these modern writers are better, but they are somehow more truthful because their alienated prose reflects the modern social problems of which the older authors were ignorant! Students are being taught that language itself is, as Benjamin said, merely a conglomeration of false "names" foisted upon society by its oppressors, and are warned against "logocentrism," the bourgeois over-reliance on words.

If these campus antics appear "retarded" (in the words of Adorno), that is because they are designed to be. The Frankfurt School's most important breakthrough consists in the realization that their monstrous theories could become dominant in the culture, as a result of the changes in society brought about by what Benjamin called "the age of mechanical reproduction of art."

II. The Establishment Goes Bolshevik:
"Entertainment" Replaces Art

Before the twentieth century, the distinction between art and "entertainment" was much more pronounced. One could be entertained by art, certainly, but the experience was active, not passive. On the first level, one had to make a conscious choice to go to a concert, to view a certain art exhibit, to buy a book or piece of sheet music. It was unlikely that any more than an infinitesimal fraction of the population would have the opportunity to see King Lear or hear Beethoven's Ninth Symphony more than once or twice in a lifetime. Art demanded that one bring one's full powers of concentration and knowledge of the subject to bear on each experience, or else the experience were considered wasted. These were the days when memorization of poetry and whole plays, and the gathering of friends and family for a "parlor concert," were the norm, even in rural households. These were also the days before "music appreciation"; when one studied music, as many did, they learned to play it, not appreciate it.

However, the new technologies of radio, film, and recorded music represented, to use the appropriate Marxist buzz-word, a dialectical potential. On the one hand, these technologies held out the possibility of bringing the greatest works of art to millions of people who would otherwise not have access to them. On the other, the fact that the experience was infinitely reproducible could tend to disengage the audience's mind, making the experience less sacred, thus increasing alienation. Adorno called this process, "demythologizing." This new passivity, Adorno hypothesized in a crucial article published in 1938, could fracture a musical composition into the "entertaining" parts which would be "fetishized" in the memory of the listener, and the difficult parts, which would be forgotten. Adorno continues,

 

The counterpart to the fetishism is a regression of listening. This does not mean a relapse of the individual listener into an earlier phase of his own development, nor a decline in the collective general level, since the millions who are reached musically for the first time by today's mass communications cannot be compared with the audiences of the past. Rather, it is the contemporary listening which has regressed, arrested at the infantile stage. Not only do the listening subjects lose, along with the freedom of choice and responsibility, the capacity for the conscious perception of music .... [t]hey fluctuate between comprehensive forgetting and sudden dives into recognition. They listen atomistically and dissociate what they hear, but precisely in this dissociation they develop certain capacities which accord less with the traditional concepts of aesthetics than with those of football or motoring. They are not childlike ... but they are childish; their primitivism is not that of the undeveloped, but that of the forcibly retarded. [emphasis aded]

This conceptual retardation and preconditioning caused by listening, suggested that programming could determine preference. The very act of putting, say, a Benny Goodman number next to a Mozart sonata on the radio, would tend to amalgamate both into entertaining "music-on-the-radio" in the mind of the listener. This meant that even new and unpalatable ideas could become popular by "re-naming" them through the universal homogenizer of the culture industry. As Benjamin puts it,

 

Mechanical reproduction of art changes the reaction of the masses toward art. The reactionary attitude toward a Picasso painting changes into a progressive reaction toward a Chaplin movie. The progressive reaction is characterized by the direct, intimate fusion of visual and emotional enjoyment with the orientation of the expert.... With regard to the screen, the critical and receptive attitudes of the public coincide. The decisive reason for this is that the individual reactions are predetermined by the mass audience response they are about to produce, and this is nowhere more pronounced than in the film.

At the same time, the magic power of the media could be used to re-define previous ideas. "Shakespeare, Rembrandt, Beethoven will all make films," concluded Benjamin, quoting the French film pioneer Abel Gance, "... all legends, all mythologies, all myths, all founders of religions, and the very religions themselves ... await their exposed resurrection."

Social Control: The "Radio Project"

Here, then, were some potent theories of social control. The great possibilities of this Frankfurt School media work were probably the major contributing factor in the support given the I.S.R. by the bastions of the Establishment, after the Institute transferred its operations to America in 1934.

In 1937, the Rockefeller Foundation began funding research into the social effects of new forms of mass media, particularly radio. Before World War I, radio had been a hobbyist's toy, with only 125,000 receiving sets in the entire U.S.; twenty years later, it had become the primary mode of entertainment in the country; out of 32 million American families in 1937, 27.5 million had radios — a larger percentage than had telephones, automobiles, plumbing, or electricity! Yet, almost no systematic research had been done up to this point. The Rockefeller Foundation enlisted several universities, and headquartered this network at the School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton University. Named the Office of Radio Research, it was popularly known as "the Radio Project."

The director of the Project was Paul Lazersfeld, the foster son of Austrian Marxist economist Rudolph Hilferding, and a long-time collaborator of the I.S.R. from the early 1930's. Under Lazersfeld was Frank Stanton, a recent Ph.D. in industrial psychology from Ohio State, who had just been made research director of Columbia Broadcasting System—a grand title but a lowly position. After World War II, Stanton became president of the CBS News Division, and ultimately president of CBS at the height of the TV network's power; he also became Chairman of the Board of the RAND Corporation, and a member of President Lyndon Johnson's "kitchen cabinet." Among the Project's researchers were Herta Herzog, who married Lazersfeld and became the first director of research for the Voice of America; and Hazel Gaudet, who became one of the nation's leading political pollsters. Theodor Adorno was named chief of the Project's music section.

Despite the official gloss, the activities of the Radio Project make it clear that its purpose was to test empirically the Adorno-Benjamin thesis that the net effect of the mass media could be to atomize and increase lability—what people would later call "brainwashing."

Soap Operas and the Invasion from Mars

The first studies were promising. Herta Herzog produced "On Borrowed Experiences," the first comprehensive research on soap operas. The "serial radio drama" format was first used in 1929, on the inspiration of the old, cliff-hanger "Perils of Pauline" film serial. Because these little radio plays were highly melodramatic, they became popularly identified with Italian grand opera; because they were often sponsored by soap manufacturers, they ended up with the generic name, "soap opera."

Until Herzog's work, it was thought that the immense popularity of this format was largely with women of the lowest socioeconomic status who, in the restricted circumstances of their lives, needed a helpful escape to exotic places and romantic situations. A typical article from that period by two University of Chicago psychologists, "The Radio Day-Time Serial: Symbol Analysis" published in the Genetic Psychology Monographs, solemnly emphasized the positive, claiming that the soaps "function very much like the folk tale, expressing the hopes and fears of its female audience, and on the whole contribute to the integration of their lives into the world in which they live."

Herzog found that there was, in fact, no correlation to socioeconomic status. What is more, there was surprisingly little correlation to content. The key factor — as Adorno and Benjamin's theories suggested it would be — was the form itself of the serial; women were being effectively addicted to the format, not so much to be entertained or to escape, but to "find out what happens next week." In fact, Herzog found, you could almost double the listenership of a radio play by dividing it into segments.

Modern readers will immediately recognize that this was not a lesson lost on the entertainment industry. Nowadays, the serial format has spread to children's programming and high-budget prime time shows. The most widely watched shows in the history of television, remain the "Who Killed JR?" installment of Dallas, and the final episode of M*A*S*H, both of which were premised on a "what happens next?" format. Even feature films, like the Star Wars and Back to the Future trilogies, are now produced as serials, in order to lock in a viewership for the later installments. The humble daytime soap also retains its addictive qualities in the current age: 70% of all American women over eighteen now watch at least two of these shows each day, and there is a fast-growing viewership among men and college students of both sexes.

The Radio Project's next major study was an investigation into the effects of Orson Welles' Halloween 1938 radioplay based on H.G. Wells' War of the Worlds. Six million people heard the broadcast realistically describing a Martian invasion force landing in rural New Jersey. Despite repeated and clear statements that the show was fictional, approximately 25% of the listeners thought it was real, some panicking outright. The Radio Project researchers found that a majority of the people who panicked did not think that men from Mars had invaded; they actually thought that the Germans had invaded.

It happened this way. The listeners had been psychologically pre-conditioned by radio reports from the Munich crisis earlier that year. During that crisis, CBS's man in Europe, Edward R. Murrow, hit upon the idea of breaking into regular programming to present short news bulletins. For the first time in broadcasting, news was presented not in longer analytical pieces, but in short clips—what we now call "audio bites." At the height of the crisis, these flashes got so numerous, that, in the words of Murrow's producer Fred Friendly, "news bulletins were interrupting news bulletins." As the listeners thought that the world was moving to the brink of war, CBS ratings rose dramatically. When Welles did his fictional broadcast later, after the crisis had receded, he used this news bulletin technique to give things verisimilitude: he started the broadcast by faking a standard dance-music program, which kept getting interrupted by increasingly terrifying "on the scene reports" from New Jersey. Listeners who panicked, reacted not to content, but to format; they heard "We interrupt this program for an emergency bulletin," and "invasion," and immediately concluded that Hitler had invaded. The soap opera technique, transposed to the news, had worked on a vast and unexpected scale.

Little Annie and the "Wagnerian Dream" of TV

In 1939, one of the numbers of the quarterly Journal of Applied Psychology was handed over to Adorno and the Radio Project to publish some of their findings. Their conclusion was that Americans had, over the last twenty years, become "radio-minded," and that their listening had become so fragmented that repetition of format was the key to popularity. The play list determined the "hits"—a truth well known to organized crime, both then and now—and repetition could make any form of music or any performer, even a classical music performer, a "star." As long as a familiar form or context was retained, almost any content would become acceptable. "Not only are hit songs, stars, and soap operas cyclically recurrent and rigidly invariable types," said Adorno, summarizing this material a few years later, "but the specific content of the entertainment itself is derived from them and only appears to change. The details are interchangeable."

The crowning achievement of the Radio Project was "Little Annie," officially titled the Stanton-Lazersfeld Program Analyzer. Radio Project research had shown that all previous methods of preview polling were ineffectual. Up to that point, a preview audience listened to a show or watched a film, and then was asked general questions: did you like the show? what did you think of so-and-so's performance? The Radio Project realized that this method did not take into account the test audience's atomized perception of the subject, and demanded that they make a rational analysis of what was intended to be an irrational experience. So, the Project created a device in which each test audience member was supplied with a type of rheostat on which he could register the intensity of his likes or dislikes on a moment-to-moment basis. By comparing the individual graphs produced by the device, the operators could determine, not if the audience liked the whole show — which was irrelevant—but, which situations or characters produced a positive, if momentary, feeling state.

Little Annie transformed radio, film, and ultimately television programming. CBS still maintains program analyzer facilities in Hollywood and New York; it is said that results correlate 85% to ratings. Other networks and film studios have similar operations. This kind of analysis is responsible for the uncanny feeling you get when, seeing a new film or TV show, you think you have seen it all before. You have, many times. If a program analyzer indicates that, for instance, audiences were particularly titilated by a short scene in a World War II drama showing a certain type of actor kissing a certain type of actress, then that scene format will be worked into dozens of screenplays—transposed to the Middle Ages, to outer space, etc., etc.

The Radio Project also realized that television had the potential to intensify all of the effects that they had studied. TV technology had been around for some years, and had been exhibited at the 1936 World's Fair in New York, but the only person to attempt serious utilization of the medium had been Adolf Hitler. The Nazis broadcast events from the 1936 Olympic Games "live" to communal viewing rooms around Germany; they were trying to expand on their great success in using radio to Nazify all aspects of German culture. Further plans for German TV development were sidetracked by war preparations.

Adorno understood this potential perfectly, writing in 1944:

Television aims at the synthesis of radio and film, and is held up only because the interested parties have not yet reached agreement, but its consequences will be quite enormous and promise to intensify the impoverishment of aesthetic matter so drastically, that by tomorrow the thinly veiled identity of all industrial culture products can come triumphantly out in the open, derisively fulfilling the Wagnerian dream of the Gesamtkunstwerk—the fusion of all the arts in one work.

The obvious point is this: the profoundly irrational forms of modern entertainment—the stupid and eroticized content of most TV and films, the fact that your local Classical music radio station programs Stravinsky next to Mozart—don't have to be that way. They were designed to be that way. The design was so successful, that today, no one even questions the reasons or the origins.

III. Creating "Public Opinion": The "Authoritarian Personality" Bogeyman and the OSS

The efforts of the Radio Project conspirators to manipulate the population, spawned the modern pseudoscience of public opinion polling, in order to gain greater control over the methods they were developing.

Today, public opinion polls, like the television news, have been completely integrated into our society. A "scientific survey" of what people are said to think about an issue can be produced in less than twenty-four hours. Some campaigns for high political office are completely shaped by polls; in fact, many politicians try to create issues which are themselves meaningless, but which they know will look good in the polls, purely for the purpose of enhancing their image as "popular." Important policy decisions are made, even before the actual vote of the citizenry or the legislature, by poll results. Newspapers will occasionally write pious editorials calling on people to think for themselves, even as the newspaper's business agent sends a check to the local polling organization.

The idea of "public opinion" is not new, of course. Plato spoke against it in his Republic over two millenia ago; Alexis de Tocqueville wrote at length of its influence over America in the early nineteenth century. But, nobody thought to measure public opinion before the twentieth century, and nobody before the 1930's thought to use those measurements for decision-making.

It is useful to pause and reflect on the whole concept. The belief that public opinion can be a determinant of truth is philosophically insane. It precludes the idea of the rational individual mind. Every individual mind contains the divine spark of reason, and is thus capable of scientific discovery, and understanding the discoveries of others. The individual mind is one of the few things that cannot, therefore, be "averaged." Consider: at the moment of creative discovery, it is possible, if not probable, that the scientist making the discovery is the only person to hold that opinion about nature, whereas everyone else has a different opinion, or no opinion. One can only imagine what a "scientifically-conducted survey" on Kepler's model of the solar system would have been, shortly after he published the Harmony of the World: 2% for, 48% against, 50% no opinion.

These psychoanalytic survey techniques became standard, not only for the Frankfurt School, but also throughout American social science departments, particularly after the I.S.R. arrived in the United States. The methodology was the basis of the research piece for which the Frankfurt School is most well known, the "authoritarian personality" project. In 1942, I.S.R. director Max Horkheimer made contact with the American Jewish Committee, which asked him to set up a Department of Scientific Research within its organization. The American Jewish Committee also provided a large grant to study anti-Semitism in the American population. "Our aim," wrote Horkheimer in the introduction to the study, "is not merely to describe prejudice, but to explain it in order to help in its eradication.... Eradication means reeducation scientifically planned on the basis of understanding scientifically arrived at."

The A-S Scale

Ultimately, five volumes were produced for this study over the course of the late 1940's; the most important was the last, The Authoritarian Personality, by Adorno, with the help of three Berkeley, California social psychologists.

In the 1930's Erich Fromm had devised a questionnaire to be used to analyze German workers pychoanalytically as "authoritarian," "revolutionary" or "ambivalent." The heart of Adorno's study was, once again, Fromm's psychoanalytic scale, but with the positive end changed from a "revolutionary personality," to a "democratic personality," in order to make things more palatable for a postwar audience.

Nine personality traits were tested and measured, including:

• conventionalism—rigid adherence to conventional, middle-class values
  
• authoritarian aggression—the tendency to be on the look-out for, to condemn, reject and punish, people who violate conventional values
  
• projectivity—the disposition to believethat wild and dangerous things go on in the world
  
• sex—exaggerated concern with sexual goings-on.

From these measurements were constructed several scales: the E Scale (ethnocentrism), the PEC Scale (poltical and economic conservatism), the A-S Scale (anti-Semitism), and the F Scale (fascism). Using Rensis Lickerts's methodology of weighting results, the authors were able to tease together an empirical definition of what Adorno called "a new anthropological type," the authoritarian personality. The legerdemain here, as in all psychoanalytic survey work, is the assumption of a Weberian "type." Once the type has been statistically determined, all behavior can be explained; if an anti-Semitic personality does not act in an anti-Semitic way, then he or she has an ulterior motive for the act, or is being discontinuous. The idea that a human mind is capable of transformation, is ignored.

The results of this very study can be interpreted in diametrically different ways. One could say that the study proved that the population of the U.S. was generally conservative, did not want to abandon a capitalist economy, believed in a strong family and that sexual promiscuity should be punished, thought that the postwar world was a dangerous place, and was still suspicious of Jews (and Blacks, Roman Catholics, Orientals, etc. — unfortunately true, but correctable in a social context of economic growth and cultural optimism). On the other hand, one could take the same results and prove that anti-Jewish pogroms and Nuremburg rallies were simmering just under the surface, waiting for a new Hitler to ignite them. Which of the two interpretations you accept is a political, not a scientific, decision. Horkheimer and Adorno firmly believed that all religions, Judaism included, were "the opiate of the masses." Their goal was not the protection of Jews from prejudice, but the creation of a definition of authoritarianism and anti-Semitism which could be exploited to force the "scientifically planned reeducation" of Americans and Europeans away from the principles of Judeo-Christian civilization, which the Frankfurt School despised. In their theoretical writings of this period, Horkheimer and Adorno pushed the thesis to its most paranoid: just as capitalism was inherently fascistic, the philosophy of Christianity itself is the source of anti-Semitism. As Horkheimer and Adorno jointly wrote in their 1947 "Elements of Anti-Semitism":

 

Christ, the spirit become flesh, is the deified sorcerer. Man's self-reflection in the absolute, the humanization of God by Christ, is the proton pseudos [original falsehood]. Progress beyond Judaism is coupled with the assumption that the man Jesus has become God. The reflective aspect of Christianity, the intellectualization of magic, is the root of evil.

At the same time, Horkheimer could write in a more-popularized article titled "Anti-Semitism: A Social Disease," that "at present, the only country where there does not seem to be any kind of anti-Semitism is Russia"[!].

This self-serving attempt to maximize paranoia was further aided by Hannah Arendt, who popularized the authoritarian personality research in her widely-read Origins of Totalitarianism. Arendt also added the famous rhetorical flourish about the "banality of evil" in her later Eichmann in Jerusalem: even a simple, shopkeeper-type like Eichmann can turn into a Nazi beast under the right psychological circumstances—every Gentile is suspect, psychoanalytically.

It is Arendt's extreme version of the authoritarian personality thesis which is the operant philosophy of today's Cult Awareness Network (CAN), a group which works with the U.S. Justice Department and the Anti-Defamation League of the B'nai B'rith, among others. Using standard Frankfurt School method, CAN identifies political and religious groups which are its political enemies, then re-labels them as a "cult," in order to justify operations against them.

The Public Opinion Explosion

Despite its unprovable central thesis of "psychoanalytic types," the interpretive survey methodology of the Frankfurt School became dominant in the social sciences, and essentially remains so today. In fact, the adoption of these new, supposedly scientific techniques in the 1930's brought about an explosion in public-opinion survey use, much of it funded by Madison Avenue. The major pollsters of today—A.C. Neilsen, George Gallup, Elmo Roper—started in the mid-1930's, and began using the I.S.R. methods, especially given the success of the Stanton-Lazersfeld Program Analyzer. By 1936, polling activity had become sufficiently widespread to justify a trade association, the American Academy of Public Opinion Research at Princeton, headed by Lazersfeld; at the same time, the University of Chicago created the National Opinion Research Center. In 1940, the Office of Radio Research was turned into the Bureau of Applied Social Research, a division of Columbia University, with the indefatigable Lazersfeld as director.

After World War II, Lazersfeld especially pioneered the use of surveys to psychoanalyze American voting behavior, and by the 1952 Presidential election, Madison Avenue advertising agencies were firmly in control of Dwight Eisenhower's campaign, utilizing Lazersfeld's work. Nineteen fifty-two was also the first election under the influence of television, which, as Adorno had predicted eight years earlier, had grown to incredible influence in a very short time. Batten, Barton, Durstine & Osborne — the fabled "BBD&O" ad agency—designed Ike's campaign appearances entirely for the TV cameras, and as carefully as Hitler's Nuremberg rallies; one-minute "spot" advertisements were pioneered to cater to the survey-determined needs of the voters.

This snowball has not stopped rolling since. The entire development of television and advertising in the 1950's and 1960's was pioneered by men and women who were trained in the Frankfurt School's techniques of mass alienation. Frank Stanton went directly from the Radio Project to become the single most-important leader of modern television. Stanton's chief rival in the formative period of TV was NBC's Sylvester "Pat" Weaver; after a Ph.D. in "listening behavior," Weaver worked with the Program Analyzer in the late 1930's, before becoming a Young & Rubicam vice-president, then NBC's director of programming, and ultimately the network's president. Stanton and Weaver's stories are typical.

Today, the men and women who run the networks, the ad agencies, and the polling organizations, even if they have never heard of Theodor Adorno, firmly believe in Adorno's theory that the media can, and should, turn all they touch into "football." Coverage of the 1991 Gulf War should make that clear.

The technique of mass media and advertising developed by the Frankfurt School now effectively controls American political campaigning. Campaigns are no longer based on political programs, but actually on alienation. Petty gripes and irrational fears are identified by psychoanalytic survey, to be transmogrified into "issues" to be catered to; the "Willy Horton" ads of the 1988 Presidential campaign, and the "flag-burning amendment," are but two recent examples. Issues that will determine the future of our civilization, are scrupulously reduced to photo opportunities and audio bites—like Ed Murrow's original 1930's radio reports—where the dramatic effect is maximized, and the idea content is zero.

Who Is the Enemy?

Part of the influence of the authoritarian personality hoax in our own day also derives from the fact that, incredibly, the Frankfurt School and its theories were officially accepted by the U.S. government during World War II, and these Cominternists were responsible for determining who were America's wartime, and postwar, enemies. In 1942, the Office of Strategic Services, America's hastily-constructed espionage and covert operations unit, asked former Harvard president James Baxter to form a Research and Analysis (R&A) Branch under the group's Intelligence Division. By 1944, the R&A Branch had collected such a large and prestigeous group of emigré scholars that H. Stuart Hughes, then a young Ph.D., said that working for it was "a second graduate education" at government expense. The Central European Section was headed by historian Carl Schorske; under him, in the all-important Germany/Austria Section, was Franz Neumann, as section chief, with Herbert Marcuse, Paul Baran, and Otto Kirchheimer, all I.S.R. veterans. Leo Lowenthal headed the German-language section of the Office of War Information; Sophie Marcuse, Marcuse's wife, worked at the Office of Naval Intelligence. Also at the R&A Branch were: Siegfried Kracauer, Adorno's old Kant instructor, now a film theorist; Norman O. Brown, who would become famous in the 1960's by combining Marcuse's hedonism theory with Wilhelm Reich's orgone therapy to popularize "polymorphous perversity"; Barrington Moore, Jr., later a philosophy professor who would co-author a book with Marcuse; Gregory Bateson, the husband of anthropologist Margaret Mead (who wrote for the Frankfurt School's journal), and Arthur Schlesinger, the historian who joined the Kennedy Administration. Marcuse's first assignment was to head a team to identify both those who would be tried as war criminals after the war, and also those who were potential leaders of postwar Germany. In 1944, Marcuse, Neumann, and Kirchheimer wrote the Denazification Guide, which was later issued to officers of the U.S. Armed Forces occupying Germany, to help them identify and suppress pro-Nazi behaviors. After the armistice, the R&A Branch sent representatives to work as intelligence liaisons with the various occupying powers; Marcuse was assigned the U.S. Zone, Kirchheimer the French, and Barrington Moore the Soviet. In the summer of 1945, Neumann left to become chief of research for the Nuremburg Tribunal. Marcuse remained in and around U.S. intelligence into the early 1950's, rising to the chief of the Central European Branch of the State Department's Office of Intelligence Research, an office formally charged with "planning and implementing a program of positive-intelligence research ... to meet the intelligence requirements of the Central Intelligence Agency and other authorized agencies." During his tenure as a U.S. government official, Marcuse supported the division of Germany into East and West, noting that this would prevent an alliance between the newly liberated left-wing parties and the old, conservative industrial and business layers. In 1949, he produced a 532-page report, "The Potentials of World Communism" (declassified only in 1978), which suggested that the Marshall Plan economic stabilization of Europe would limit the recruitment potential of Western Europe's Communist Parties to acceptable levels, causing a period of hostile co-existence with the Soviet Union, marked by confrontation only in faraway places like Latin America and Indochina—in all, a surprisingly accurate forecast. Marcuse left the State Department with a Rockefeller Foundation grant to work with the various Soviet Studies departments which were set up at many of America's top universities after the war, largely by R&A Branch veterans.

At the same time, Max Horkheimer was doing even greater damage. As part of the denazification of Germany suggested by the R&A Branch, U.S. High Commissioner for Germany John J. McCloy, using personal discretionary funds, brought Horkheimer back to Germany to reform the German university system. In fact, McCloy asked President Truman and Congress to pass a bill granting Horkheimer, who had become a naturalized American, dual citizenship; thus, for a brief period, Horkheimer was the only person in the world to hold both German and U.S. citizenship. In Germany, Horkheimer began the spadework for the full-blown revival of the Frankfurt School in that nation in the late 1950's, including the training of a whole new generation of anti-Western civilization scholars like Hans-Georg Gadamer and Jürgen Habermas, who would have such destructive influence in 1960's Germany. In a period of American history when some individuals were being hounded into unemployment and suicide for the faintest aroma of leftism, Frankfurt School veterans—all with superb Comintern credentials — led what can only be called charmed lives. America had, to an incredible extent, handed the determination of who were the nation's enemies, over to the nation's own worst enemies.

IV. The Aristotelian Eros: Marcuse and the CIA's Drug Counterculture

In 1989, Hans-Georg Gadamer, a protégé of Martin Heidegger and the last of the original Frankfurt School generation, was asked to provide an appreciation of his own work for the German newspaper, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. He wrote,

 

One has to conceive of Aristotle's ethics as a true fulfillment of the Socratic challenge, which Plato had placed at the center of his dialogues on the Socratic question of the good.... Plato described the idea of the good ... as the ultimate and highest idea, which is supposedly the highest principle of being for the universe, the state, and the human soul. Against this Aristotle opposed a decisive critique, under the famous formula, "Plato is my friend, but the truth is my friend even more." He denied that one could consider the idea of the good as a universal principle of being, which is supposed to hold in the same way for theoretical knowledge as for practical knowledge and human activity.

This statement not only succinctly states the underlying philosophy of the Frankfurt School, it also suggests an inflection point around which we can order much of the philosophical combat of the last two millenia. In the simplest terms, the Aristotelian correction of Plato sunders physics from metaphysics, relegating the Good to a mere object of speculation about which "our knowledge remains only a hypothesis," in the words of Wilhelm Dilthey, the Frankfurt School's favorite philosopher. Our knowledge of the "real world," as Dilthey, Nietzsche, and other precursors of the Frankfurt School were wont to emphasize, becomes erotic, in the broadest sense of that term, as object fixation. The universe becomes a collection of things which each operate on the basis of their own natures (that is, genetically), and through interaction between themselves (that is, mechanistically). Science becomes the deduction of the appropriate categories of these natures and interactions. Since the human mind is merely a sensorium, waiting for the Newtonian apple to jar it into deduction, humanity's relationship to the world (and vice versa) becomes an erotic attachment to objects. The comprehension of the universal—the mind's seeking to be the living image of the living God—is therefore illusory. That universal either does not exist, or it exists incomprehensibly as a deus ex machina; that is, the Divine exists as a superaddition to the physical universe — God is really Zeus, flinging thunderbolts into the world from some outside location. (Or, perhaps more appropriately: God is really Cupid, letting loose golden arrows to make objects attract, and leaden arrows to make objects repel.) The key to the entire Frankfurt School program, from originator Lukacs on, is the "liberation" of Aristotelian eros, to make individual feeling states psychologically primary. When the I.S.R. leaders arrived in the United States in the mid-1930's, they exulted that here was a place which had no adequate philosophical defenses against their brand of Kulturpessimismus [cultural pessimism]. However, although the Frankfurt School made major inroads in American intellectual life before World War II, that influence was largely confined to academia and to radio; and radio, although important, did not yet have the overwhelming influence on social life that it would acquire during the war. Furthermore, America's mobilization for the war, and the victory against fascism, sidetracked the Frankfurt School schedule; America in 1945 was almost sublimely optimistic, with a population firmly convinced that a mobilized republic, backed by science and technology, could do just about anything. The fifteen years after the war, however, saw the domination of family life by the radio and television shaped by the Frankfurt School, in a period of political erosion in which the great positive potential of America degenerated to a purely negative posture against the real and, oftentimes manipulated, threat of the Soviet Union. At the same time, hundreds of thousands of the young generation—the so-called baby boomers—were entering college and being exposed to the Frankfurt School's poison, either directly or indirectly. It is illustrative, that by 1960, sociology had become the most popular course of study in American universities. Indeed, when one looks at the first stirrings of the student rebellion at the beginning of the 1960's, like the speeches of the Berkeley Free Speech Movement or the Port Huron Statement which founded the Students for a Democratic Society, one is struck with how devoid of actual content these discussions were. There is much anxiety about being made to conform to the system—"I am a human being; do not fold, spindle, or mutilate" went an early Berkeley slogan—but it is clear that the "problems" cited derive much more from required sociology textbooks, than from the real needs of the society.

The CIA's Psychedelic Revolution

The simmering unrest on campus in 1960 might well too have passed or had a positive outcome, were it not for the traumatic decapitation of the nation through the Kennedy assassination, plus the simultaneous introduction of widespread drug use. Drugs had always been an "analytical tool" of the nineteenth century Romantics, like the French Symbolists, and were popular among the European and American Bohemian fringe well into the post-World War II period. But, in the second half of the 1950's, the CIA and allied intelligence services began extensive experimentation with the hallucinogen LSD to investigate its potential for social control. It has now been documented that millions of doses of the chemical were produced and disseminated under the aegis of the CIA's Operation MK-Ultra. LSD became the drug of choice within the agency itself, and was passed out freely to friends of the family, including a substantial number of OSS veterans. For instance, it was OSS Research and Analysis Branch veteran Gregory Bateson who "turned on" the Beat poet Allen Ginsberg to a U.S. Navy LSD experiment in Palo Alto, California. Not only Ginsberg, but novelist Ken Kesey and the original members of the Grateful Dead rock group opened the doors of perception courtesy of the Navy. The guru of the "psychedelic revolution," Timothy Leary, first heard about hallucinogens in 1957 from Life magazine (whose publisher, Henry Luce, was often given government acid, like many other opinion shapers), and began his career as a CIA contract employee; at a 1977 "reunion" of acid pioneers, Leary openly admitted, "everything I am, I owe to the foresight of the CIA." Hallucinogens have the singular effect of making the victim asocial, totally self-centered, and concerned with objects. Even the most banal objects take on the "aura" which Benjamin had talked about, and become timeless and delusionarily profound. In other words, hallucinogens instantaneously achieve a state of mind identical to that prescribed by the Frankfurt School theories. And, the popularization of these chemicals created a vast psychological lability for bringing those theories into practice. Thus, the situation at the beginning of the 1960's represented a brilliant re-entry point for the Frankfurt School, and it was fully exploited. One of the crowning ironies of the "Now Generation" of 1964 on, is that, for all its protestations of utter modernity, none of its ideas or artifacts was less than thirty years old. The political theory came completely from the Frankfurt School; Lucien Goldmann, a French radical who was a visiting professor at Columbia in 1968, was absolutely correct when he said of Herbert Marcuse in 1969 that "the student movements ... found in his works and ultimately in his works alone the theoretical formulation of their problems and aspirations [emphasis in original]." The long hair and sandals, the free love communes, the macrobiotic food, the liberated lifestyles, had been designed at the turn of the century, and thoroughly field-tested by various, Frankfurt School-connected New Age social experiments like the Ascona commune before 1920. (See box.) Even Tom Hayden's defiant "Never trust anyone over thirty," was merely a less-urbane version of Rupert Brooke's 1905, "Nobody over thirty is worth talking to." The social planners who shaped the 1960's simply relied on already-available materials.

Eros and Civilization

The founding document of the 1960's counterculture, and that which brought the Frankfurt School's "revolutionary messianism" of the 1920's into the 1960's, was Marcuse's Eros and Civilization, originally published in 1955 and funded by the Rockefeller Foundation. The document masterfully sums up the Frankfurt School ideology of Kulturpessimismus in the concept of "dimensionality." In one of the most bizarre perversions of philosophy, Marcuse claims to derive this concept from Friedrich Schiller. Schiller, whom Marcuse purposefully misidentifies as the heir of Immanuel Kant, discerned two dimensions in humanity: a sensuous instinct and an impulse toward form. Schiller advocated the harmonization of these two instincts in man in the form of a creative play instinct. For Marcuse, on the other hand, the only hope to escape the one-dimensionality of modern industrial society was to liberate the erotic side of man, the sensuous instinct, in rebellion against "technological rationality." As Marcuse would say later (1964) in his One-Dimensional Man, "A comfortable, smooth, reasonable, democratic unfreedom prevails in advanced industrial civilization, a token of technical progress." This erotic liberation he misidentifies with Schiller's "play instinct," which, rather than being erotic, is an expression of charity, the higher concept of love associated with true creativity. Marcuse's contrary theory of erotic liberation is something implicit in Sigmund Freud, but not explicitly emphasized, except for some Freudian renegades like Wilhelm Reich and, to a certain extent, Carl Jung. Every aspect of culture in the West, including reason itself, says Marcuse, acts to repress this: "The totalitarian universe of technological rationality is the latest transmutation of the idea of reason." Or: "Auschwitz continues to haunt, not the memory but the accomplishments of man—the space flights, the rockets and missiles, the pretty electronics plants...."

This erotic liberation should take the form of the "Great Refusal," a total rejection of the "capitalist" monster and all his works, including "technological" reason, and "ritual-authoritarian language." As part of the Great Refusal, mankind should develop an "aesthetic ethos," turning life into an aesthetic ritual, a "life-style" (a nonsense phrase which came into the language in the 1960's under Marcuse's influence). With Marcuse representing the point of the wedge, the 1960's were filled with obtuse intellectual justifications of contentless adolescent sexual rebellion. Eros and Civilization was reissued as an inexpensive paperback in 1961, and ran through several editions; in the preface to the 1966 edition, Marcuse added that the new slogan, "Make Love, Not War," was exactly what he was talking about: "The fight for eros is a political fight [emphasis in original]." In 1969, he noted that even the New Left's obsessive use of obscenities in its manifestoes was part of the Great Refusal, calling it "a systematic linguistic rebellion, which smashes the ideological context in which the words are employed and defined." Marcuse was aided by psychoanalyst Norman O. Brown, his OSS protege, who contributed Life Against Death in 1959, and Love's Body in 1966—calling for man to shed his reasonable, "armored" ego, and replace it with a "Dionysian body ego," that would embrace the instinctual reality of polymorphous perversity, and bring man back into "union with nature." The books of Reich, who had claimed that Nazism was caused by monogamy, were re-issued. Reich had died in an American prison, jailed for taking money on the claim that cancer could be cured by rechanneling "orgone energy." Primary education became dominated by Reich's leading follower, A.S. Neill, a Theosophical cult member of the 1930's and militant atheist, whose educational theories demanded that students be taught to rebel against teachers who are, by nature, authoritarian. Neill's book Summerhill sold 24,000 copies in 1960, rising to 100,000 in 1968, and 2 million in 1970; by 1970, it was required reading in 600 university courses, making it one of the most influential education texts of the period, and still a benchmark for recent writers on the subject. Marcuse led the way for the complete revival of the rest of the Frankfurt School theorists, re-introducing the long-forgotten Lukacs to America. Marcuse himself became the lightning rod for attacks on the counterculture, and was regularly attacked by such sources as the Soviet daily Pravda, and then-California Governor Ronald Reagan. The only critique of any merit at the time, however, was one by Pope Paul VI, who in 1969 named Marcuse (an extraordinary step, as the Vatican usually refrains from formal denunciations of living individuals), along with Freud, for their justification of "disgusting and unbridled expressions of eroticism"; and called Marcuse's theory of liberation, "the theory which opens the way for license cloaked as liberty ... an aberration of instinct." The eroticism of the counterculture meant much more than free love and a violent attack on the nuclear family. It also meant the legitimization of philosophical eros. People were trained to see themselves as objects, determined by their "natures." The importance of the individual as a person gifted with the divine spark of creativity, and capable of acting upon all human civilization, was replaced by the idea that the person is important because he or she is black, or a woman, or feels homosexual impulses. This explains the deformation of the civil rights movement into a "black power" movement, and the transformation of the legitimate issue of civil rights for women into feminism. Discussion of women's civil rights was forced into being just another "liberation cult," complete with bra-burning and other, sometimes openly Astarte-style, rituals; a review of Kate Millet's Sexual Politics (1970) and Germaine Greer's The Female Eunuch (1971), demonstrates their complete reliance on Marcuse, Fromm, Reich, and other Freudian extremists.

The Bad Trip

This popularization of life as an erotic, pessimistic ritual did not abate, but in fact deepened over the twenty years leading to today; it is the basis of the horror we see around us. The heirs of Marcuse and Adorno completely dominate the universities, teaching their own students to replace reason with "Politically Correct" ritual exercises. There are very few theoretical books on arts, letters, or language published today in the United States or Europe which do not openly acknowledge their debt to the Frankfort School.

The witchhunt on today's campuses is merely the implementation of Marcuse's concept of "repressive toleration"—"tolerance for movements from the left, but intolerance for movements from the right"—enforced by the students of the Frankfurt School, now become the professors of women's studies and Afro-American studies. The most erudite spokesman for Afro-American studies, for instance, Professor Cornell West of Princeton, publicly states that his theories are derived from Georg Lukacs. At the same time, the ugliness so carefully nurtured by the Frankfurt School pessimists, has corrupted our highest cultural endeavors. One can hardly find a performance of a Mozart opera, which has not been utterly deformed by a director who, following Benjamin and the I.S.R., wants to "liberate the erotic subtext." You cannot ask an orchestra to perform Schönberg and Beethoven on the same program, and maintain its integrity for the latter. And, when our highest culture becomes impotent, popular culture becomes openly bestial. One final image: American and European children daily watch films like Nightmare on Elm Street and Total Recall, or television shows comparable to them. A typical scene in one of these will have a figure emerge from a television set; the skin of his face will realistically peel away to reveal a hideously deformed man with razor-blade fingers, fingers which start growing to several feet in length, and—suddenly—the victim is slashed to bloody ribbons. This is not entertainment. This is the deeply paranoid hallucination of the LSD acid head. The worst of what happened in the 1960's is now daily fare. Owing to the Frankfurt School and its co-conspirators, the West is on a "bad trip" from which it is not being allowed to come down.

The principles through which Western Judeo-Christian civilization was built, are now no longer dominant in our society; they exist only as a kind of underground resistance movement. If that resistance is ultimately submerged, then the civilization will not survive—and, in our era of incurable pandemic disease and nuclear weapons, the collapse of Western civilization will very likely take the rest of the world with it to Hell.

The way out is to create a Renaissance. If that sounds grandiose, it is nonetheless what is needed. A renaissance means, to start again; to discard the evil, and inhuman, and just plain stupid, and to go back, hundreds or thousands of years, to the ideas which allow humanity to grow in freedom and goodness. Once we have identified those core beliefs, we can start to rebuild civilization.

Ultimately, a new Renaissance will rely on scientists, artists, and composers, but in the first moment, it depends on seemingly ordinary people who will defend the divine spark of reason in themselves, and tolerate no less in others. Given the successes of the Frankfurt School and its New Dark Age sponsors, these ordinary individuals, with their belief in reason and the difference between right and wrong, will be "unpopular." But, no really good idea was ever popular, in the beginning.

Source: http://tinyurl.com/lkbrg6

Carl Schmitt: Total Enemy, Total State & Total War

Total Enemy, Total State, & Total War

Carl SCHMITT

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

 Translated by Simona Draghici

Editor’s Note:

The following translation from Carl Schmitt appears online for the first time in commemoration of Schmitt’s birth on July 11, 1888. The translation originally appeared in Carl Schmitt, Four Essays, 1931–1938, ed. and trans. Simona Draghici (Washington, D.C.: Plutarch Press, 1999).

I

In a certain sense, there have been total wars at all times; a theory of the total war, however, presumably dates only from the time of Clausewitz who would talk of “abstract” and “absolute” wars.”[1] Later on, under the impact of the experiences of the last Great War, the formula of total war has acquired a specific meaning and a particular effectiveness. Since 1920, it has become the prevailing catchword. It was first brought out in sharp relief in the French literature, in book titles like La guerre totale. Afterwards, between 1926 and 1928, it found its way into the language of the proceedings of the disarmament committee at Geneva. In concepts such as “war potential” (potentiel de guerre), “moral disarmament” (désarmement moral) and “total disarmament” (désarmement total). The fascist doctrine of the “total state” came to it by way of the state; the association yielded the conceptual pair: total state, total war. In Germany, the publication of the Concept of the Political has since 1927 expanded the pair of totalities to a set of three: total enemy, total war, total state. Ernst Jünger’s book of 1930 Total Mobilization made the formula part of the general consciousness. Nonetheless, it was only Ludendorff’s 1936 booklet entitled Der Totale Krieg (The Total War) that lent it an irresistible force and caused its dissemination beyond all bounds.

The formula is omnipresent; it forces into view a truth whose horrors the general consciousness would rather shun. Such formulas, however, are always in danger of becoming widespread nationally and internationally and of being degraded to summary slogans, to mere gramophone records of the publicity mill. Hence some clarifications may be appropriate.

(a) A war may be total in the sense of summoning up one’s strength to the limit, and of the commitment of everything to the last reserves.[2] It may also be called total in the sense of the unsparing use of war means of annihilation. When the well-known English author J. F. C. Fuller writes in a recent article, entitled “The First of the League Wars, Its Lessons and Omens,” that the Italian campaign in Abyssinia was a modern total war, he only refers to the use of efficacious weapons (airplanes and gas), whereas looked at from another vantage point, Abyssinia in fact was not capable of waging a modern total war nor did Italy use its reserves to the limit, reach the highest intensity, and lead to an oil blockade or to the closing of the Suez Canal, because of the pressure exerted through the sanctions imposed by the League of Nations.

(b) A war may be total either on both sides or on one side only. It may also be deliberately limited, rationed and measured out, because of the geographical situation, the war technique in use, and also the predominant political principles of both sides. The typical 18th-century war, the so-called “cabinet war,” was essentially and deliberately a partial war. It rested on the clear segregation of the soldiers participating in the war from the non-participant inhabitants and non-combatants. Nevertheless, the Seven Years War of Frederick the Great was relatively total, on Prussia’s side, when compared with the other powers’ mobilization of forces. A situation, typical of Germany, showed itself readily in that case: the adversity of geographical conditions and the foreign coalitions compelled a German state to mobilize its forces to a higher degree than its more affluent and fortunate bigger neighbors.[3]

(c) The character of the war may change during the belligerent showdown. The will to fight may grow limp or it may intensify, as it happened in the 1914–1918 world war, when the war trend on the German side towards the mobilization of all the economic and industrial reserves soon forced the English side to introduce general conscription.

(d) Finally, some other methods of confrontation and trial of strength, which are not total, always develop within the totality of war. Thus for a time, everyone seeks to avoid a total war which naturally carries a total risk. In this way, after the world war, there were the so-called military reprisals (the 1923 Corfu Conflict, Japan-China in 1932), followed by the attempts at non-military, economic sanctions, according to Article 16 of the Covenant of the League of Nations (against Italy, autumn 1935), and finally, certain methods of power testing on foreign soil (Spain 1936–1937) emerged in a way that could be correctly interpreted only in close connection with the total character of modern warfare. They are intermediate and transitional forms between open war and true peace; they derive their meaning from the fact that total war looms large in the background as a possibility, and an understandable caution recommends itself in the delineation of the conflictual spaces. Likewise, it is only from this point of view that they can be grasped by the science of international law.

II

The core of the matter lies in warfare. From the nature of the total war one may grasp the character and the whole aspect of state totality; from the special character of the decisive weapons one may deduce the peculiar character and aspect of the totality of war. But it is the total enemy that gives the total war its meaning.[4]

The different services and types of warfare, land warfare, sea warfare, air warfare, they each experience the totality of war in a particular way. A corresponding world of notions and ideas piles on each of these types of warfare. The traditional notions of “levée en masse” (levy), “nation armée” (nation in arms), and “Volk in Waffen” (the people in arms) belong to land warfare.[5] Out of these notions emerged the continental doctrine of total war, essentially as a doctrine of land warfare, and that thanks mainly to Clausewitz. Sea warfare, on the other hand, has its own strategic and tactical methods and criteria; moreover, until recently, it has been first and foremost a war against the opponent’s trade and economy, whence a war against non-combatants, an economic war, which by its laws of blockade, contraband, and prizes, drew neutral trade into the hostilities, as well. Air warfare has not so far built up a similar fully-fledged and independent system of its own. There is no doctrine of air warfare yet that would correspond to the world of notions and concepts accumulated with regard to land and sea warfare. Nonetheless, as a consequence of air warfare, the overall configuration sways in the main towards a three-dimensional total war.

The “if” of a total war is beyond any doubt today. The “how” may vary. The totality is perceptible from opposite vantage points. Hence the standard type of guide and leader in a total war is necessarily different. It would be too simple an equation to accept that the soldier will step into the centre of this totality as the prevailing type in a total war to the same extent as in other kinds of wars previously.[6] If, as it has been said, total mobilization abolishes the separation of the soldier from the civilian, it may very well happen that the soldier changes into a civilian as the civilian changes into a soldier, or both may change into something new, a third alternative. In reality, it all depends on the general character of the war. A real war of religion turns the soldiers into the tools of priests or preachers. A total war that is waged on behalf of the economy becomes the tool of economic power groups. There are other forms in which the soldier himself is the typical model and the ascending expression of the character of the people. Geographical conditions, racial and social peculiarities of all kinds, are factors that determine the type of warfare waged by great nations. Even today it is unlikely that a nation could engage in all the three kinds of warfare to a degree equal to the three-dimensional total war. It is probable that the centre of gravity in the deployment of forces will always rest with one or the other of the three kinds of warfare and the doctrine of total war will draw on it.[7]

Until now the history of the European peoples has been dominated by the contrast of the English sea warfare with the Continental land warfare. It is not a matter of “traders and heroes” or that sort of thing, but rather the recognition that any of the various kinds of warfare may become total, and out of its own characteristics generate a special world of notions and ideals as its own doctrine and also relevant to international and constitutional law, particularly in the assessment of the soldier’s worth and of his position in the general body of the people. It would be a mistake to regard the English sea warfare of the last three centuries in the light of the total land warfare of Clausewitz’s theory, essentially as mere trade and economic but not total warfare, and to misinterpret it as unconnected with and markedly different from totality. It is the English sea warfare that generated the kernel of a total world view.[8]

The English sea warfare is total in its capacity for total enmity. It knows how to mobilize religious, ideological, spiritual, and moral forces as only few of the great wars in world history have done. The English sea warfare against Spain was a world-wide combat of the Germanic and Romance peoples, between Protestantism and Catholicism, Calvinism and Jesuitism, and there are few instances of such outbursts of enmity as intense and final as Cromwell’s against the Spaniards. The English war against Napoleon likewise changed from a sea war into a “crusade.” In the war against Germany between 1914 and 1918, the world-wide English propaganda knew how to whip up enormous moral and spiritual energies in the name of civilization and humanity, of democracy and freedom, against the Prussian-German “militarism.” The English mind had also proved its ability to interpret the industrial-technical upsurge of the 19th century in the terms of the English worldview. Herbert Spencer drew an extremely effective picture of history that was disseminated all over the world, in countless works of popularization, the propagandistic force of which proved its worth in the 1914–1918 World War. It was the philosophy of mankind’s progress, presented as an evolution from feudalism to trade and industry, from the political to the economic, from soldiers to industrialists, from war to peace. It portrayed the soldier essentially as Prussian-German, eo ipso “feudal reactionary,” a “medieval” figure standing in the way of progress and peace. Moreover, out of its specificity, the English sea warfare evolved a full, self-contained system of international law. It asserted itself and its own concepts held on their own against the corresponding concepts of Continental international law throughout the 19th century. There is an Anglo-Saxon concept of enemy, which in essence rejects the differentiation between combatants and non-combatants, and an Anglo-Saxon conception of war that incorporates the so-called economic war. In short, the fundamental concepts and norms of this English international law are total as such and certainly indicative of an ideology in itself total.

Finally, the English constitutional regulations turned the subordination of the soldiers to the civilians into an ideological principle and imposed it upon the Continent during the liberal 19th century. By those standards, civilization lies in the rule of the bourgeois, civilian ideal which is essentially unsoldierly. Accordingly, the constitution is always but a civil-bourgeois system in which, as Clemenceau put it, the soldier’s only raison d’être is to defend the civilian bourgeois society, while basically he is subject to civilian command. The Prussian soldier state carried on a century-long political struggle on the home front against this bourgeois constitutional ideal. It succumbed to it in the Autumn of 1918. The history of Prussian Germany’s home politics from 1848 to 1918 was a ceaseless conflict between the army and parliament, an uninterrupted battle which the government had to fight with the parliament over the structure of the army, and the army budget necessary to make ready for an unavoidable war, that were determined not by the necessities of foreign policy but rather by compromises regarding internal policy. The dictate of Versailles, which stipulated the army’s organization and its equipment to the smallest detail, in an agreement of foreign policy, was preceded by half a century of periodical agreements of internal policy between the Prussian-German soldier state and its internal policy opponents, in which all the details of the organization and the equipment of the army had been decided by the internal policy. The conflict between bourgeois society and the Prussian soldier state led to an unnatural isolation of the War Office from the power of command and to many other separations, consistently rooted in the opposition between a bourgeois constitutional ideal imported from England either directly or through France and Belgium, on the one hand, and the older constitutional ideal of the German soldiery, on the other.[9]

Today Germany has surmounted that division and achieved a close integration of its soldier force.[10] Indeed, attempts will not fail to be made to describe it as militarism, in the manner of earlier propaganda methods, and to hold Germany guilty of the advent of total war. Such questions of guilt too belong to the totality of the ideological wrangles. Le combat spirituel est aussi brutal que la bataille d’hommes (spiritual combat is as brutal as the battles of men). Nonetheless, before nations stagger into a total war once more, one must raise the question whether a total enmity truly exists among the European nations nowadays. War and enmity belong to the history of nations. But the worst misfortune only occurs wherever the enmity is generated by the war itself, as in the 1914–1918 war, and not as it would be right and sensible, namely that an older, unswayed enmity, true and total to the Day of Judgment, should led to a total war.

Translator’s Notes

Originally published in Völkerbund und Völkerrecht, vol. 4, 1937, this essay was reproduced in Posirionen und Begriffe im Kampf mit Weimar-Gent-Versailles, 1929–1939, (Hamburg, 1940), pp. 235–239.

1. General Carl von Clausewitz (1780–1831) is best known for his book Vom Kriege, never finished and published posthumously, which incidentally has been translated into English under the title On War. There are numerous versions available in print.

2. Carl Schmitt’s own political principles of “will” and “energy,” components of his qualitative concept of total state, derive from this characteristic feature of “total war”: collective determination to assume a cause considered worthwhile and unreserved commitment to its fulfillment. As a generalized rallying around and enthusiasm for a cause and a particular course of action, it is a frequent phenomenon of social psychology, yet its usually ephemeral character makes it unfit as a durable basis of any social structure. I remember the enthusiasm with which in 1982, to a man, the Argentines, for instance, rallied to the idea of going to war to free the Maldives and hurried to put it into practice, and the accompanying hatred which grew against the British. The enthusiasm cooled off quickly, but not the hatred, which lingered on. To perpetuate the enthusiasm, a plethora of other factors have to be brought in, of which, in the case of Germany at the beginning of the ’thirties, Carl Schmitt actually had not a clue.

3. The “lesson” is in keeping with the Hitlerite Frederician cult and legitimating tradition and does not claim to be historically accurate. Although a digression that seems out of place, it has a certain significance for the time it was made. In the autumn of 1936, Hitler circulated a memorandum revealing his expansionist intentions. Then in 1937, the organization of the nation to serve those intentions began, a process which coincided with the rise of the SS state. In November of the same year the German media were ordered to keep silent about the preparations for a “total war.” Bearing all that in mind, Schmitt’s short digression reads more as a warning of danger than a point of military strategy.

4 . What is interesting here is his insistence on the existential essence of the phenomenon, which is consonant with his earlier definition of the political and at the same time renders the distinction between the professional soldier and the civilian meaningless. Moreover, total enmity with its implicit elimination of the adversary excludes any prospect of a peace treaty, as the war is to go on until one of the belligerents is annihilated.

5. Das Volk in Waffen (The Nation in Arms) happens to be the title of a work on total war by Colmar von der Goltz (1843–1916), published in 1883, and which is an important stepping stone in the reflection on modern warfare that led to Ludendorff’s book.

6. At the beginning of February 1938, Adolf Hitler became commander in chief of the German armed forces, appointing General Keitel his assistant at the head of the High Command of the Armed Forces, as the War Ministry was dissolved.

7. Eventually only the Soviet Union came closest to Carl Schmitt’s expectations, while the United States waged a fully-fledged three-dimensional war, dictated by its geographical position and sustained by its vast economic and technical resources most of which remained outside the battle zone.

8. For a broader treatment of the subject-matter see Carl Schmitt’s Land und Meer, which as Land and Sea is available in an English translation (Washington, D.C.: Plutarch Press, 1997).

9. The conflict between the civil society and the military in Germany was the subject-matter of a longer essay by Carl Schmitt, published in Hamburg in 1934 under the title Staatsgefüge und Zusammenbruch des Zweites Reiches. Der Sieg des Burgers über den Soldaten (The State Structure and the Collapse of the Second Reich. The Burghers’ Victory Over the Soldiers).

 

10. Röhm, the ideological soldier, had been eliminated in 1934, at the same time as the political soldiers, the Generals von Schleicher and von Bredow. Furthermore, as already mentioned in note 6 above, the War Ministry ceased to exist at the beginning of 1938, while the Commander in Chief, Field Marshal Werner von Blomberg was removed from his post for having compromised himself by marrying a “lady with a past,” and his prospective successor, General von Fritsch was forced to resign on a trumped-up Charge of homosexuality. At the same time, sixteen other generals were retired and forty-four were transferred. Göring who had been very active in carrying out this “integration” got for it only the title of field marshal, as Hitler kept for himself the supreme military command.

 

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