Heidegger the Horrible

I make no secret of the fact that I loathe Martin Heidegger.  I've mentioned it in this blog from time to time.  I've also mentioned it in a philosophy forum I frequent. 

My loathing of him is largely based on the fact that he was, and remained until his death, an unrepentant, and even an enthusiastic, Nazi.  It's true that I also don't care for him as what I've read of his work strikes me as romantic and even mystical, when it is comprehensible.

For example, I thought his The Question of Technology to be at once dour and fanciful.  He seemed to be condemning the use of technology to generate energy through regulation of water, and its use to extract and store coal, declaring the former to be, in effect, monstrous and the latter to be a kind of rape of the earth.  The fact that humans have been regulating (altering its course at will) water through irrigation, and using it as a source of energy in milling, for thousands of years, and cutting and storing lumber as well for millenia, isn't mentioned in the essay.  Instead, a hydroelectric plant and mining through use of technology is compared, unfavorably, with peasants lovingly planting seeds in nature's bosom and such.  It's difficult to believe that this kind of reasoning is given serious consideration.  But that isn't grounds for revulsion, typically.

I've been scolded for this by several persons.  Usually, the scolder has (sometimes grudgingly) acknowledged his Nazi past, but considers it a kind of fluke or flirtation.  If so it was a long lasting one, as he didn't relinquish his membership in the Nazi party, and was a member until the end of WWII.  I've also been told that his philosophical work must be distinguished from the man himself, and that his philosophical work is superb, sublime; think of the most excessive expression of adulation you can conceive, and repeat it with his name as a sort of mantra, and you will begin to understand the praise he receives.  

But I think the attempt to distinguish the Nazi from his work is becoming more and more difficult as we learn more and more about him.

I've been listening to an audiobook version of Richard Wolin's Heidegger in Ruins:  Between Philosophy and Ideology.  If the claims made in it are accurate (and a persuasive case is made that they are, and that they're well documented), I think it is unreasonable for anyone, now, to claim that Heidegger the faithful Nazi is unrelated to Heidegger the philosopher.

This is because the publication of the so-called Black Notebooks has served to reveal the extent of his anti-Semitism and his acceptance of the mythos of Nazism (the superiority of the German Volk and its special mission to save the West, if not the entire world, from World Jewry and technology and attendant nihilism), and their relation to his focus on Being, even as it appears in his book which is given a kind of sacred, biblical status by his followers--Being and Time.  His nearly ecstatic reflections on German superiority and its mission seem not dissimilar to statements made by Himmler.  It seems that Heidegger thought the Jews if not every other people but the Germans lacked Being.  But for the Germans, all others have no connection with Blut und Boden, apparently a necessary condition of Being.

If this does not justify the war and the Holocaust, it seems to have sufficed as far as Heidegger was concerned to relieve the Germans of any blame for them.  Thus, he wrote of the "self-annihilation" of the Jews and the "inner truth and greatness" of National Socialism well after 1945.  His claims when rector at Freiberg (that's him posing as rector at the head of this post) that Hitler was the future of Germany and its law and similar hosannas to Der Fuhrer and his programs were not isolated, foolish statements, but expressions of strongly held beliefs.

I still have much to listen to, and will try to do so, though frankly the portrait of Heidegger appearing in the work so far is that of someone who was at best a disingenuous, self-important, poseur with looney, mystic beliefs in a master race and at worst a dishonest, self-serving apologist for mass-murder and a brutal autocracy.  It makes for disturbing listening.

Reason and its Enemies

Richard Wolin, a professor of history and comparative literature at City University of New York, has written an interesting book entitled The Seduction of Unreason:  The Intellectual Romance with Fascism from Nietzsche to Postmodernism.  Although its title is cumbersome (it seems authors these days must include explanatory subtitles, as it were, following colons, in every book title) the writing is not.  It's a lengthy book, but unfortunately there's much to tell.

The title of the book is, shall we say, suggestive of its argument.  If it had been written by an American or English philosopher, continental philosophers and their followers here would likely ignore it.  But perhaps the author's status as a professor of comparative literature will lure them into reading at least summaries of the book, comparative literature buffs being far more capable philosophers than actual philosophers almost by definition as far as postmodernists are concerned.

It's not clear to me that the romance of intellectuals with autocracy began with Nietzsche.  I think certain philosophers have always had a fondness for "enlightened" despotism.  Even J.S. Mill in his more Romantic moments thought this would be beneficial, and under the influence of such as Coleridge dreamt up a kind of elite, a "clerisy", which would govern humanity wisely.  This pernicious view has been with us since Plato, at least.

But fascism is a peculiar, modern form of autocracy, a hodgepodge of political, racial, quasi-religious, quasi-philosophical and nationalistic mumbo-jumbo, and as such grew out of what I think can fairly be called the "unreason" which resulted from the reaction to the Enlightenment which has been called (not very creatively) the Counter-Enlightenment.  I personally prefer calling it the Un-Enlightenment.  Some thought that because reason, in and of itself, didn't produce a paradise here on Earth, it's opposite should be unleashed upon the world.

It turns out reason's opposite could be all kinds of things when considered by European intellectuals.  The emotions, the instincts, Jungian collective unconscious, the erotic, the spirit inherent in a particular race or purported race or nation.  Whatever was unreasonable in human beings was glorified at least as much as reason, or what was thought reason, was glorified by other European intellectuals during the Enlightenment.  This intellectual environment was ideal for the growth of fascism, a political/social/cultural philosophy dependent on the unreasonable, dismissive of moderation and tolerance, devoted to the irrational in humanity.

This led to what was extremely goofy in some cases, as Wolin points out.  There is Georges Bataille, for example, a follower of Nietzsche who was fascinated with human sacrifice.  He and others formed a little society which was devoted to the idea, if not the practice, of human sacrifice.  It seems its members were willing to be sacrificed but not inclined to perform the sacrifice, sadly.  Bataille was an influence on Foucault, who favored the Iranian revolution and the religious fascism of the Islamic clerics who took control after the Shah was overthrown, and others.  I'm not sure what was going on in the case of Bataille and sacrifice, but suspect he thought this was the sort of thing unreasonable people would and should do, which is undeniable, and that there was something mystic and pagan involved in it.

Goofiness aside, though, the emphasis on unreason motivated the endorsement of Hitler's Nazism and Mussolini's fascism by a number of thinkers dissatisfied with liberal democratic politics and values.  This is pretty well documented, and Wolin of course goes into some detail regarding famous Nazis and fellow travelers such as Heidegger and Paul de Man.

Mussolini's Italy and  Hitler's Germany were once considered models of efficiency and, it's hard to believe, physical and mental health.  It was thought that these nations had a vigor and intensity lacking in liberal democracies, for what may be considered spiritual reasons.  They were one, a people united, not chaotic in the manner of the democracies and especially the Weimer Republic.  Most importantly it seems to their intellectual devotees, they had abandoned liberal values as well; freedom, individuality, the conflict of ideas and worst of all, materialism.  Money and business have always been the subjects of contempt for the learned as well as the aristocratic.  Of course, the learned were also inclined to  associate them with Jews, themselves yet another subject of contempt.

It's quite possible to overestimate reason, and to impute too much importance to it.  It's also quite possible to underestimate the significance of the irrational in our lives.  Man cannot live by reason alone, and it may be said that the Enlightenment thinkers erred in their zealous emphasis and reliance on it to the exclusion of all else.  I think sometimes that those of the Enlightenment were drunk on their sudden freedom from the dominance of the Church.

But I find it impossible to blame the Enlightenment for the ills of our society, as it seems members of the Un-Enlightenment are inclined to do.  It isn't reason or science which motivated the Holocaust, for example.  Essential to that horror were concepts of the Volk and German Romanticism and mysticism.  They were also essential to German expansionism and sense of mastery and special  purpose; to rule the world and thereby save it.  Heidegger warned against technology but eagerly joined in the glorification of Hitler and in according him the status of a demigod.

We're at out best when we think, and as Dewey said we think when we're presented with problems.   Thinking involves problem solving and is essential to it.  We don't think when we rely on mysticism, our so-called inherent nature, our "being", our vigor, our unity, religion, our race in making decisions.  It's when we abandon reason as a means to solve problems that we produce monsters and follow them.  We become followers only, in fact, as we don't think but rather feel; followers only follow, some better than others.  Reason provides the best chance of understanding and solving the problems we face in life.

Unreason doesn't require justification.  There's no process by which those seduced by it test its results, no questions are asked as unreason isn't subject to question or for that matter definition.  Questioning, defining, testing have no place when reason isn't employed, but is instead shunned.  The result is certainty, but at a terrible price, as the certain are thoughtless, intolerant and cruel.

The Horrors of Certainty

Big John Dewey in his The Quest for Certainty was critical of philosophy and of certain philosophers for pursuing certainty as a goal.  I think he may have underestimated the extent to which certainty is cause for dismay.

We're never more dangerous than when we are certain, particularly when we are certain something is true or good.  Our certainty empowers us, renders us self-righteous, impatient of questions, even merciless.  Extremism in the pursuit of the truth or the good appears somehow appropriate to us.  Means, however dubious, are justified by the much desired, unchallengeable ends. 

The 20th Century is seen by many to be characterized by mere relativism, but it seems to me to be one in which certainty was the cause of vast and unspeakable horrors.  The Nazis and Soviets, spurred on by Hitler and Stalin, were certain of the need for the acts they took in pursuit of the goals they were certain must be sought.  Millions died as a result, Jews, kulaks, Ukrainians, Roma.

I've recently read a book called Bloodlands, which is a detailed description of seemingly endless atrocities and massacres engaged in by the Germans and the Soviets, particularly after the commencement of the Second World War, but before and after it by Stalin in his cruel quest to industrialize the Soviet Union.  Page after page reciting deaths by shooting, gassing, starvation, ceaseless labor.  It was a numbing experience, but one I feel I must recommend, if only because it illustrates the evil of certainty.

We've been warlike and cruel throughout our history, but it seems to me that our wars for power, glory, empire, money are small things compared with the wars we've waged for religious reasons, or to fulfill our destiny, or bring about the workers paradise, secure in the knowledge that all we do is for truth and the good.  The certainty that God wills it, or history or race or destiny require it, gives us carte blanche to do what must be done, whatever it may be.

Napoleon, Alexander, Caesar did a good deal of damage, as did England's wars of empire, but their quests for power, profit and personal glory are mere drops in the bucket of blood filled by such as Hitler, Stalin and Mao.  The Roman Empire was a military dictatorship, sometimes viscious and savage, but it required the triumph of Christianity, exclusive and certain, and its usurpation of the empire to render it intolerant not only of rebellion and disorder but of thought and religious belief.

When we believe the state is the means by which we may bring about the moral perfection of its citizens, or the human race at large, we are inclined to do most anything through the state, or to forgive most anything done by the state (this is a lesson Plato's totalitarian republic should have taught us--better Sparta than Athens, according to Plato).  There is therefore wisdom behind the view that the state should have limited power, as those on the Left and the Right are equally certain when it comes to what they feel is true or good, and are equally inclined to exercise power in their pursuit when they obtain power.  Stupid and selfish as we are, we may do less damage to ourselves than would a government convinced it must do what is necessary, regardless of our wishes, for our own good.

We're still on the quest for certainty, unfortunately.  We should teach ourselves to accept uncertainty, to feel comfortable with probability, respectful of the chance for error.  It will make us humble, cautious; even wise.  Not the most romantic or glorious point of view, but one which may allow us to live in peace.  At least it may lessen the chance for mass murder.   After the certain horrors of the 20th Century, that's no small thing.

Prosecuting a Relic

It has been discovered that there lurks in Minnesota a former member of a Ukrainian unit of the Waffen SS.  "Discovered" may not be the appropriate word, as this 94 year old man demonstrated a noteworthy lack of intelligence by deciding at one point in his long life to write a memoir in which he described his membership in that infamous organization, thus alerting the world to his existence and his past.  Perhaps it wasn't mere stupidity to do so, however.  Perhaps he is inclined to confess misdeeds, is remarkably honest, or is actually proud of this fact.

"Prosecuting" is not the appropriate word, either...yet.  A formal investigation has been opened by German authorities.  News accounts indicate that thus far there is no evidence of his participation in atrocities, though it seems there is some evidence that he was "in the area" where certain of them took place.  But his example inclines me to speculate regarding why he is being formally investigated and the purpose of any prosecution should it take place.  Of course, there is also the recent example of an actual prosecution regarding a man who died at the age of 91 while appealing his conviction for being a guard at one of the camps.

Just what would a prosecution accomplish?  It is unclear how "punishment" would apply in the case of a 94 year old.  It may be there is not much he could be deprived of at this point.  I've seen nothing regarding his physical or mental condition.  If he is ill or infirm in either respect then transporting him to Germany, putting him through a trial and imprisoning him may further impair his body and his mind, but if his capacity to appreciate punishment, as it were, has been diminished due to age, this may not be significant.  If he is in whatever it is may be "good" condition for 94 years, his condition would still presumably be made worse.  But how much worse?  And it seems that the idea of punishing a 94 year old is discomforting in some sense.  It isn't comparable to punishing a child, I suppose, as the punishment would be more severe.  However there is something which strikes us (strikes me, in any case) as wrong or at least inappropriate about punishing someone old and weak. 

Can it be maintained that prosecution and any resulting penalty would be appropriate as a deterrence in this case?  Well, it's very unlikely anyone would be deterred from joining an SS unit as a result, as there are none to be joined.   However, there may well be similar organizations at large in the world today.  It's unclear to me that they would be deterred, though, by the punishment of someone whose crimes, if any, were committed in the 1940s.  They may not care what their fate would be when they're in their 90s; they may think it likely they won't live that long.  Those Nazis who may still live likely will not change their conduct now in any fashion, except to struggle to be less conspicuous than they may already be.  Is there deterrence value in the knowledge that the long arm of the law will extend and ensnare even 70 years into the future, for certain crimes at least?  I don't know.  Do we want to premise prosecution and punishment now, after so long, on the mere speculation there will be a deterrence?

Perhaps it can be maintained that the crimes of the Nazi regime and its accessories were so vile and of such magnitude that prosecution and punishment is, in a sense, inherently necessary, i.e. regardless of consequences and regardless of the age or the condition of the defendant.  That would be to paint with a rather broad brush, though.  Individuals may have been Nazis who did nothing culpable.  It isn't apparent one should be punished merely because he was a Nazi long ago.  Punishment should be based on individual acts, crimes. 

What if it can be established that he did participate in atrocities?  Well, let's say someone, 94 years old, can be shown to have murdered someone in the 1940s, not as a member of an SS unit or an auxiliary of the SS, but in the course of a robbery.  What resources would be devoted to investigating, prosecuting and imprisoning him now?  Should he be prosecuted?

At what point does punishment become torture, justice mere revenge?  At the point where they have no purpose but to cause harm, particularly to the elderly?  Is that their purpose in the case of this man?

These considerations should come into play in determining action to be taken.  If they do not, then it may be that pursuing this old Nazi may actually make him a sympathetic figure.