The last time I was in Istanbul in 1995 I carried
in my travel bag only two books that I read in the long sunny afternoons spent
marvelling at the beauty of the Sea of Marmara from the lounge of the splendid
Ottoman building housing my hotel: – one was a heavy tome containing Vladimir
Nabokov’s collected short stories and the other was a much lighter collection
of short stories by Tobias Wolff titled ‘The Night in Question’. Burdened by
these volumes, I could not help reflect at the time on the ‘barbe et peripezie’
(Machiavelli’s expression for tribulations and vicissitudes) of the great
Austrian philologist and critic Erich Auerbach, the laudable author of
‘Mimesis’, what I consider to be the greatest work of literary exegesis in our
Western history. Forced to flee his Mitteleuropa by the rise of the
Nationalsocialist German dictatorship, Auerbach sought refuge in Istanbul,
perhaps the last bastion of Western civilisation and certainly the first
approach to that Orient that had so often challenged it for global supremacy
since the time of Xerxes and the Peloponnesian Wars.
I wondered back then at the pathos of this supreme
intellectual exile, the ostracised victim of a European civilisation in its
death throes, who yet – unlike the central character in Malcolm Lowry’s ‘Under
the Volcano’ – found the courage and the strength even in his predicament to
keep alive and illuminate the most genial expressions of his culture often
aided only by the sheer power of his memory. In the flight from Vienna to
Istanbul, indeed, Auerbach could no longer have access to anything remotely
resembling the bibliographical resources that had availed him in the Austrian
capital. After the conquest of Byzantium by the troops of the Ottoman Empire
five hundred years earlier, in fact, Istanbul was no longer the centre of
global civilisation that it had been since its foundation as Constantinople, the
splendid capital of the Late Roman Empire turned Christian under the inspired
vision of Constantine that had brought to its apotheosis that long and
incessant marriage of Hellenic rationalist philosophy and science and Oriental
religious mysticism and piety begun with the wars of conquest of Alexander the
Great and crystallised in the vast intellectual synthesis of the Greek Paideia
spread by the first Christian apostles and later debouching in the Christian
Era.
In a related twist, this particular “marriage” (he
calls it “encuentro”, meeting, in ‘Cristianismo Primitivo y Paideia Griega’,
chapter 1) was the lifelong focus of study of another great German-speaking
scholar and intellectual, the great historian of Antiquity Werner Jaeger, whose
monumental ‘Paideia’ is surely one of the supreme achievements of human
erudition and learning. Jaeger (whose work on early Greek theology inspired
none other than Heidegger) also became an exile, this time to America, upon the
rise of Hitler, though this time more by “choice” than by direct or immediate threats
to his personal safety.
As convoluted as these literary allusions may
seem, they do provide an intriguing platform for a critique of bourgeois
economic “science”. But this time round what I bring to Istanbul to allow me to
amplify on these themes are not heavy tomes over which to pore while I take in
the impressive panorama of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn from my terrace
window with views of the Basilica of the Holy Wisdom. This time round I am no
longer burdened by the weight of books and the sad knowledge of the exiguous number
that I could carry with me – because since my last visit a technological
miracle has taken place, one that allows me at the mere click and tap of
fingers to access almost every book that human ingenuity and learning have ever
devised and composed. This miracle is called “information technology”, which
includes computers, ‘USBs’ and more important, the internet! So here once again
is what would seem at first to be a tribute to capitalism, and yet is instead an
implicit critique – because if this economic system has been associated with
the vast development of human technologies, it has also done so always in a
manner that impedes most violently their “democratic” use and subordinates them
instead to their “capitalistic use”, that is, makes them available only on
condition that their employment is “profitable” so that its users are forced to
surrender their living labour, their political autonomy, “in exchange for” the
ability to utilise them. The fact that even now I am forced to rely on Spanish
translations, the only ones available on the internet, rather than on originals
speaks volumes about this “restricted capitalistic use” of technologies!)
The “motor” of capitalist industry and of its
“growth and development”, as we have attempted to show in our studies of Joseph
Schumpeter’s Theorie der wirtschaftlichen
Entwicklung, is not the capitalist entrepreneur but rather the opposite
“force’, the antagonism of living labour that compels the capitalist to devise
new ways of “containing” the explosive force of this antagonism between living
and dead labour. The capitalist entrepreneur decides on the “direction” that
this antagonism takes, but can never master or destroy it: and so the
antagonism grows and grows. True, the “direction” of technological control
comes from the capitalist “metropole” – but the antagonism is everywhere to be
seen, perhaps nowhere more conspicuously than in the “periphery”. Istanbul and
Turkey, like Egypt and Syria, are part of this “periphery”, one that is drawing
ominously ever closer to the European “metropole”. The question for us then is ultimately
how to reconcile the political autonomy of living labour, its “spontaneity”
(Latin spons for will) with the need
to guide and order it into a political unity.
The question that Jaeger attempted to answer in
his iter intellectualis was why
Christianity rather than Judaism was able to spread way beyond Palestine and
conquer through the Roman Empire the known world. And the answer he gave was,
briefly, that this spread was greatly facilitated by the prior expansion of the
Greek-Hellenic koine’ mainly through
the Alexander the Great’s conquest of the Eastern empires. The great
dif-ference (the different practical impact) between Judaism and Christianity
lay for Jaeger precisely in this: - namely, that Christian religion could be
wedded to (we spoke of “marriage” before) - indeed it was a direct partial
descendant of - the experimental rationalism developed by the early Greek
philosophers and their cultural koine’ that right from its inception sought to
explain “rationally”, that is in an experimental scientific or “realistic”
fashion, both the origin - metaphysical, onto-logical and theo-logical - of the
world together with its experiential workings or operation as manifested to the
human senses and perception. Whilst Jaeger traces the amazing “affinity” of
early Greek theo-logical and onto-logical reflection with the experimental
orientation of its great theoreticians, Auerbach concentrates instead on the
dif-ferences between the peremptory,
dictatorial biblical faith of Judaic religion as articulated in the Old
Testament and the democratic realist
praxis of early Greek narrative illustrated masterfully in the Homeric poems.
(Cf. ‘Ulysses’s Scar’ in Mimesis,
p.20 in the Spanish translation, and in particular this astounding passage that
both epitomises and encapsulates Auerbach’s thesis in a political context that
brings it back home, like the Homeric odyssey, to his own personal drama:
The
pretension to truth of the Bible not only is much more peremptory than that of Homer, but it is also tyrannical: it excludes all other truths! The world of the biblical
stories is not content with relating a historical reality, but pretends rather
to be the only true world, destined to exclusive domination…The tales of the
Holy Scriptures do not seek our favour [cf. Macbeth’s first encounter with the
three witches], like thos of Homer; they do not address us with the aim of
convincing and pleasing us: what they aim at is instead is to dominate us and,
if we refuse, they immediately label us as rebels.
I can
certainly vouch for the similarity of these sentiments to those of any other “rebellious”
students in economics faculties the world over today!)
Indeed, even this “marriage” or “meeting” of a
Judaic theo-ontology that denigrates temporal life or ec-sistence in favour of
transcendence, that is, of a Divinity that stands outside the cosmos, with the
Hellenic philosophical realist immanentism that sought to explain what exists
by means of what exists and is perceptible – even this “marriage”, we were
saying, that according to Jaeger gave birth to Christian religion with its
eschatology of the “soul”, evidently contains within itself this opposition of
divine theology and what Jaeger calls “natural” theology, in that the latter
treats theology itself in anthropological fashion by seeking the human or, if you like, the “scientific” reasons
for its own existence. As the master Sophist, Protagoras, genially put it, “Man
is the measure of all things”, and
that includes the divinity, of course. This priority given to how and why human beings live and die,
to what comes between “the first and the last thing”, as Nietzsche put it (in Human, All Too Human), rather than to
what lies beyond life and the world,
became the object of the German philosopher’s championing of the rhetorical
Sophists against the Socratic mystics.
Yet even within
the democratic realist praxis of the early Greek philosophers and scientists
there lies a dangerous ambivalence about the meaning of “measure”:- because if
this “measure” with which modern science has grown obsessed then becomes what
it has become in the hands of capitalist industry whose sole aim is to measure
the immeasurable, living labour, in terms of its quantifiable exchange with “dead
labour” or “goods” or “output”, then we have a new transcendentalism
exemplified most brutally and odiously by so-called “economic science” whereby
the theoretical categories are turned into strait-jackets or Procrustean beds
into which human behaviour must fit (cf. Karl Polanyi’s superb study of The Great Transformation), or else in “pragmatic”,
mainly econometric, efforts that take the present, what is now, not as history
but rather as an exemplification of economic theory and then attempt to fit
their observations of what is into
the Procrustean bed of what must be,
which is the most apt and correct definition of neoclassical economic theory.
No comments:
Post a Comment