The Intellectual’s Attraction to Totalitarian Ideology
Czesław Miłosz, in his seminal work “The Captive Mind,” delves into the complexities behind why intellectuals may find themselves drawn to totalitarian ideologies. Miłosz, reflecting on his experiences with intellectuals under Soviet dominance, identifies several psychological, social, and ideological factors that contribute to this attraction. Among the myriad reasons he explores, the profound need for a comprehensive and systematic understanding of the world stands out as a critical factor. Intellectuals, driven by a quest for deeper meanings and coherent worldviews, often gravitate towards ideologies that promise a grand, all-encompassing narrative. This need for intellectual coherence and unity often propels them towards the seemingly rational and orderly frameworks that totalitarian regimes offer.
This quest for a coherent worldview is not merely an academic exercise but a profound psychological drive. Intellectuals seek to understand the complexities of human existence and societal structures, and totalitarian ideologies often provide the allure of a meticulously ordered universe where every element has its place and purpose. Unlike ordinary individuals who may prioritize pragmatic, day-to-day concerns, intellectuals are consumed by the search for theoretical and philosophical consistency. Totalitarian doctrines, with their intricate ideological blueprints, offer intellectuals a sense of participating in a grand historical project, providing both intellectual fulfillment and a sense of meaning.
However, this analysis, while insightful, might be overly simplistic. When we turn to the debates between Alexandre Kojève and Leo Strauss, particularly their discourse on Xenophon’s Hiero, we encounter a richer and more nuanced understanding of the philosopher’s role in society and their relationship with political ideologies. Kojève and Strauss engage in a profound exploration of the tension between the statesman, who operates within the constraints of earthly time, and the philosopher, who aspires to eternal principles. This dialectical complexity reveals deeper layers of the intellectual’s attraction to totalitarianism that Miłosz’s psychological focus might miss.
Kojève interprets the philosopher’s role as one that ultimately seeks to merge with the world of action, embodying Hegelian notions of history’s end and the realization of philosophy in the state. In contrast, Strauss maintains a Platonic skepticism about the philosopher’s engagement with political life, emphasizing the dangers and compromises inherent in such involvement. This interplay between merging with the world and maintaining a critical distance is crucial to understanding the intellectual’s position. It is not merely about seeking order but also about navigating the delicate balance between practical responsibilities and transcendent aspirations.
Furthermore, the distinction between phenomena (the statesman’s realm) and noumena (the philosopher’s realm) is essential in comprehending the broader implications of philosophical engagement with political ideologies. The statesman is concerned with practical, temporal solutions to societal issues, while the philosopher contemplates eternal truths and principles. This Platonic dichotomy raises critical questions about the philosopher’s role in political life: Should they seek to influence and shape the political realm, or should they remain detached, preserving their commitment to eternal principles? This tension highlights the philosopher’s unique position and the complex motivations behind their potential attraction to totalitarian ideologies.
Returning to Miłosz, while his psychological and ideological analysis provides valuable insights, it may overlook these deeper philosophical dynamics. Intellectuals might be attracted to totalitarian ideologies not merely because of a quest for order but because of the inherent tension in their role as both seekers of truth and potential shapers of society. This nuanced understanding can better explain the intellectual’s complicated relationship with totalitarianism.
In light of these considerations, we must question Hannah Arendt’s broad definition of totalitarianism and explore its philosophical underpinnings. How can we justify this definition without falling into the traps of oversimplification? Here, the work of Carl Schmitt offers an intriguing perspective. Schmitt distinguishes between various forms of authoritarianism, highlighting the illusionary and other types of “toritarian” regimes that may not fit neatly into a single category. Schmitt’s analysis reveals the multifaceted nature of political authority and the different ways it manifests, challenging the monolithic view of totalitarianism.
By incorporating the insights of Strauss, Kojève, and Schmitt, we can develop a more comprehensive understanding of the intellectual’s attraction to totalitarian ideologies. This approach acknowledges the complexities and contradictions inherent in the philosopher’s role, providing a richer and more nuanced perspective than the one offered by Miłosz alone. Intellectuals are not merely seekers of order but are deeply engaged in a dialectical struggle between practical responsibilities and transcendent aspirations, navigating the intricate dynamics of political authority and philosophical truth.
Reading Strauss on Thucydides and its Link to Heidegger: A Philosophical Exploration
Reading Leo Strauss on Thucydides offers a profound glimpse into the tension between historical realism and the search for eternal principles in political philosophy. Strauss, a committed advocate of classical rationalism, admired Thucydides for his incisive analysis of power politics and the human condition. However, Strauss also critiqued Thucydides for his perceived relativism, reflecting a broader critique of modern philosophical trends that Strauss saw as undermining the pursuit of universal truths. In this critique, Strauss indirectly engages with the existential and phenomenological ideas of Martin Heidegger, another towering figure in 20th-century philosophy, whose approach to being and existence contrasts sharply with Strauss’s commitment to classical rationalism.
Thucydides, in his “History of the Peloponnesian War,” presents a detailed account of the conflict between Athens and Sparta, emphasizing the pragmatic and often harsh realities of power politics. His narrative highlights the moral ambiguities and strategic calculations that characterize political life, portraying events with a degree of detachment that allows readers to draw their own conclusions about justice and power. For Strauss, Thucydides’ work, while profound, embodies a form of historical relativism that contrasts with the eternal principles espoused by ancient Greek philosophers like Plato and Aristotle. Strauss appreciated Thucydides’ insights into human nature and politics but saw in his work a potential undermining of the belief in universal moral truths.
Strauss’s critique of Thucydides can be seen as part of his broader philosophical project to defend the idea of eternal principles against the relativism and historicism prevalent in modern philosophy. This critique implicitly addresses the ideas of Martin Heidegger, who significantly influenced modern thought with his existential and phenomenological approach. Heidegger’s philosophy, particularly as articulated in “Being and Time,” emphasizes the historicity and temporality of human existence, challenging the notion of fixed, eternal truths. Heidegger’s concept of “Dasein,” or being-there, underscores the situated and contextual nature of human existence, focusing on how individuals experience and interpret their being in the world.
Heidegger’s departure from traditional metaphysical thinking marks a significant shift from the systematic philosophy of Hegel and builds on the phenomenological groundwork of Edmund Husserl. Heidegger critiques the metaphysical systems that dominated Western thought, arguing that they overlook the fundamental question of Being. In his analysis, “Dasein” is characterized by its “thrownness” (Geworfenheit) into the world, highlighting the fact that human existence is not chosen but given, and is intrinsically tied to the temporal and contingent realities of life. This concept starkly contrasts with the idea of eternal principles, emphasizing instead the fluid and dynamic nature of existence.
The existential condition of “Dasein,” with its awareness of mortality and the search for meaning, reveals the profound anxiety inherent in human life. Heidegger describes how “Dasein” is always oriented towards its own finitude, facing the inevitability of death and the challenge of finding meaningful reasons to live within this finite existence. This focus on the temporality and contextuality of human life leads to a critique of the idea that universal truths can provide a stable foundation for understanding human existence. Instead, Heidegger argues for a more fundamental re-engagement with the question of Being, moving beyond the abstract and systematic categories of traditional metaphysics.
Strauss, in his defense of classical rationalism, implicitly critiques Heidegger’s historicism and existentialism by upholding the search for eternal principles as essential for sound political and moral life. Strauss sees the relativism and historicism in modern thought as undermining the quest for universal truths that can guide human action and governance. His admiration for ancient Greek philosophy, with its emphasis on rationality and ethical norms, contrasts with Heidegger’s focus on the historical and situated nature of human existence.
