Tag Archive: Plato

Nietzsche and Jesus

I am not a Christian in any conventional sense of the name. For sure I do not like religion, but that is likely to be misconstrued as faithlessness. But the truly faithless are the forsaken and the suicidal, and I am far from being a suicide or a nihilist. To be a Christian, I would have to feel guilty about being alive, or to look forward to the end of the world.

One should not confuse Christianity as a historical reality with that one root that its name calls to mind: the other roots from which it has grown have been far more powerful. It is an unexampled misuse of words when such manifestations of decay and abortions as “Christian church,” “Christian faith” and “Christian life” label themselves with that holy name. What did Christ deny? Everything that is today called Christian.” [Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power, 158]

Most of what is today called “religion”, let alone “Christian religion,” is god-forsaken, and has become, itself, “the abomination of desolation” as described in Revelations. It has no spiritual content whatsoever, which is what Nietzsche meant by “the death of God” and in describing the churches as “the tomb of God” and the tombstones of God. For Nietzsche, Christianity had become empty of all positive or progressive spiritual content or direction.

Many of “the Faithful of the True Faith” hold that mere observance of the 10 commandments, the Decalogue or Mosaic Law, suffices to be recognised as Christian or “religious” or even “spiritual”. In fact, the so-called “ten commandents” (in Hebrew, they are called “the 10 terms” or “10 matters”) have no positive spiritual content whatsoever. They are the minima moralia of a political and social constitution, called “the covenant”, designed to fuse twelve fractious Hebrew tribes into a functioning national collective called “Israel”, and in more comprehensive terms, are instruments for overcoming man’s more animal spitits.

“I teach you the overman. Man is something that shall be overcome. What have you done to overcome him?”
[Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra, Prologue, §3]

“All beings so far have created something beyond themselves; and do you want to be the ebb of this great flood and even go back to the beasts rather than overcome man? What is the ape to man? A laughingstock or a painful embarrassment. And man shall be just that for the overman: a laughingstock or a painful embarrassment. You have made your way from worm to man, and much in you is still worm. Once you were apes, and even now, too, man is more ape than any ape.” [Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spake Zarathustra, Prologue, §3]

The Decalogue is a formula for ape-taming, and little else. That this came to be seen as even the essence of a spiritual or religious life is one of the great perversions of history.

The “new dispensation” brought by Jesus was originally discovered by Plato and adapted by Christianity. The Neoplatonic single principle, “the One”, is the essence of the Gospel according to John. And it is why we divide history between A.D. and B.C. or between New Testament and Old Testament: The Old Testament is concerned with ape-taming. The New Testament with overman-making. This is the meaning of what is called “conversion”, or having one’s face turned in a new direction. The Old Testament was concerned with beating back or disciplining the ape-man or “natural man”, and the Old Testament prophets were continuously calling back the lapsed to remembrance of “God” because of man’s tendency to revert to the ape. The whole mood of the Old Testament is “thou shalt not…!” But the whole thrust of the New Testament is “thou shalt…!”

“Be thou therefore perfect, even as thy Father in Heaven” (Matthew 5:48) is a completely different imperative or commandment than we find in the Old Testament and in the Mosaic Law. It is not a negation, but an affirmation, no longer to fight against the ape in man, but to transcend it. It is for this reason that Jesus said, “I come not to change the law but to fulfil it” or “the Law is made for man, not man for the law”. While the Old Testament was obsessed with origin, the New Testament is obsessed with destiny. And this is what got Jesus condemned, executed, and martyred as a blasphemer and a heretic.

Jesus had a casual attitude towards the Mosaic Law because he recognised it as purely utilitarian and not as complete in itself. His call to mankind to transcend itself was a greater and more creative challenge than constantly merely beating back the ape or obsessing about the reversion to the “natural man”. And this is the vocation or calling that both William Blake and Friedrich Nietzsche responded to, but who were considered lunatic and even evil for doing so.

On the Value of Written Words

Phaedrus: A ridiculous question! But tell me what you say you have heard.

Socrates: I heard, then, that at Naucratis, in Egypt, was one of the ancient gods of that country, the one whose sacred bird is called the ibis, and the name of the god himself was Theuth. He it was who [274d] invented numbers and arithmetic and geometry and astronomy, also draughts and dice, and, most important of all, letters. Now the king of all Egypt at that time was the god Thamus, who lived in the great city of the upper region, which the Greeks call the Egyptian Thebes, and they call the god himself Ammon. To him came Theuth to show his inventions, saying that they ought to be imparted to the other Egyptians. But Thamus asked what use there was in each, and as Theuth enumerated their uses, expressed praise or blame, according as he approved [274e] or disapproved. The story goes that Thamus said many things to Theuth in praise or blame of the various arts, which it would take too long to repeat; but when they came to the letters, “This invention, O king,” said Theuth, “will make the Egyptians wiser and will improve their memories; for it is an elixir of memory and wisdom that I have discovered.” But Thamus replied, “Most ingenious Theuth, one man has the ability to beget arts, but the ability to judge of their usefulness or harmfulness to their users belongs to another; [275a] and now you, who are the father of letters, have been led by your affection to ascribe to them a power the opposite of that which they really possess. For this invention will produce forgetfulness in the minds of those who learn to use it, because they will not practice their memory. Their trust in writing, produced by external characters which are no part of themselves, will discourage the use of their own memory within them. You have invented an elixir not of memory, but of reminding; and you offer your pupils the appearance of wisdom, not true wisdom, for they will read many things without instruction and will therefore seem [275b] to know many things, when they are for the most part ignorant and hard to get along with, since they are not wise, but only appear wise.

Phaedrus: Socrates, you easily make up stories of Egypt or any country you please.

Socrates: They used to say, my friend, that the words of the oak in the holy place of Zeus at Dodona were the first prophetic utterances. The people of that time, not being so wise as you young folks, were content in their simplicity to hear an oak [275c] or a rock, provided only it spoke the truth; but to you, perhaps, it makes a difference who the speaker is and where he comes from, for you do not consider only whether his words are true or not.

Phaedrus: Your rebuke is just; and I think the Theban is right in what he says about letters.

Socrates: He who thinks, then, that he has left behind him any art in writing, and he who receives it in the belief that anything in writing will be clear and certain, would be an utterly simple person, and in truth ignorant of the prophecy of Ammon, if he thinks [275d] written words are of any use except to remind him who knows the matter about which they are written.

Phaedrus: Very true.

Socrates: Writing, Phaedrus, has this strange quality, and is very like painting; for the creatures of painting stand like living beings, but if one asks them a question, they preserve a solemn silence. And so it is with written words; you might think they spoke as if they had intelligence, but if you question them, wishing to know about their sayings, they always say only one and the same thing. And every word, when [275e] once it is written, is bandied about, alike among those who understand and those who have no interest in it, and it knows not to whom to speak or not to speak; when ill-treated or unjustly reviled it always needs its father to help it; for it has no power to protect or help itself.

Phaedrus: You are quite right about that, too. [276a]

Socrates: Now tell me; is there not another kind of speech, or word, which shows itself to be the legitimate brother of this bastard one, both in the manner of its begetting and in its better and more powerful nature?

Phaedrus: What is this word and how is it begotten, as you say?

Socrates: The word which is written with intelligence in the mind of the learner, which is able to defend itself and knows to whom it should speak, and before whom to be silent.

Phaedrus: You mean the living and breathing word of him who knows, of which the written word may justly be called the image. [276b]

Socrates: Exactly. Now tell me this. Would a sensible husbandman, who has seeds which he cares for and which he wishes to bear fruit, plant them with serious purpose in the heat of summer in some garden of Adonis, and delight in seeing them appear in beauty in eight days, or would he do that sort of thing, when he did it at all, only in play and for amusement? Would he not, when he was in earnest, follow the rules of husbandry, plant his seeds in fitting ground, and be pleased when those which he had sowed reached their perfection in the eighth month? [276c]

Phaedrus: Yes, Socrates, he would, as you say, act in that way when in earnest and in the other way only for amusement.

Socrates: And shall we suppose that he who has knowledge of the just and the good and beautiful has less sense about his seeds than the husbandman?

Phaedrus: By no means.

Socrates: Then he will not, when in earnest, write them in ink, sowing them through a pen with words which cannot defend themselves by argument and cannot teach the truth effectually.

Phaedrus: No, at least, probably not. [276d]

Socrates: No. The gardens of letters he will, it seems, plant for amusement, and will write, when he writes, to treasure up reminders for himself, when he comes to the forgetfulness of old age, and for others who follow the same path, and he will be pleased when he sees them putting forth tender leaves. When others engage in other amusements, refreshing themselves with banquets and kindred entertainments, he will pass the time in such pleasures as I have suggested.[276e]

Phaedrus: A noble pastime, Socrates, and a contrast to those base pleasures, the pastime of the man who can find amusement in discourse, telling stories about justice, and the other subjects of which you speak.

Socrates: Yes, Phaedrus, so it is; but, in my opinion, serious discourse about them is far nobler, when one employs the dialectic method and plants and sows in a fitting soul intelligent words which are able to help themselves and him [277a] who planted them, which are not fruitless, but yield seed from which there spring up in other minds other words capable of continuing the process for ever, and which make their possessor happy, to the farthest possible limit of human happiness.

Phaedrus: Yes, that is far nobler.