Overthrow

George Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel was born on 1770 and died on 1831. He is considered by some to be one of the greatest thinkers and scholars who ever lived; and considered by others to be a charlatan and windbag. Some like him; some don’t. Arthur Schopenhauer, for instance, had the following negative appraisal of Hegel’s philosophy:

If I were to say that the so-called philosophy of this fellow Hegel is a colossal piece of mystification which will yet provide posterity with an inexhaustible theme for laughter at our times, that it is a pseudo-philosophy paralyzing all mental powers, stifling all real thinking, and, by the most outrageous misuse of language, putting in its place the hollowest, most senseless, thoughtless, and, as is confirmed by its success, most stupefying verbiage, I should be quite right.

Regardless of Schopenhauer’s opinion, it is hard to deny that Hegel was well-accomplished in mathematics, history, law, natural science, philosophy, aesthetics, and theology. Many prominent specialists in these fields of study at the time considered Hegel an equal, as evinced in Hegel’s collected letters. To say the least, Hegel was a rare bird, and a contradictory figure in the history of philosophy. His thought is comprehensive and systematic, and covers a tremendous amount of themes– this is very different from today, where people are encouraged to specialize in narrow questions, or focus on one area of knowledge very closely.

Hegel, as many people are aware, is famous for what is called dialectics. There is a certain aura of mystification surrounding this term. Part of this has to do with various competing interpretations (some of which were taught in Soviet Text books about Marxism, others which were taught in analytic philosophy departments, and so on). It has become a worn-out cliché and misleading over-simplification that Hegel’s dialectical method consists in the triad of “Thesis/antithesis/synthesis.” Dialectics, it must be said, is not something that is solely the product of Hegel. It is much broader, and has a long history. The term “dialectic” comes from the Greek dia, which has several shades of meaning: literally it means “split in two,” but it also has the meaning of opposition, clash, or conflict. The second part of the word comes from the Greek word Logos or reason. Therefore, to give a very simplistic definition, we may say that the word dialectics means “to reason or think by splitting in two or by making distinctions.”

Some ancient Greek philosophers – who were also some of the first natural scientists – had a keen interest in the phenomena of change, motion, or process. Others were interested in rest, eternal being, or constant presence. Let’s look at the first group, those interested in change: they wanted to understand and explain the world around them. To use an example, imagine seeing a rock thrown through the air or a bird flying across a pond. The early philosophers would reason this way: to be in motion means to be changed from being here to being there. Because “here” and “there” are opposites (they exclude each other), some of the early Greeks figured that motion must be the transformation of one state of things into its opposite state; or, to put it a bit differently, because motion is both a beginning and its opposite, an end, motion must be the unity of these opposites. To summarize this idea, we could say that motion is contradiction.

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I recently got into a discussion with a friend about Democracy and the two party system.

She puts forth this banality, ‘Too bad a two party system is institutionalized in this country and in all likelihood will not be changing anytime soon. Your time would be better spent working to better our future within this context then just complain about the “nasty game.”‘

Here is my response:

Let’s make an analogy: Slavery was once an institution too, and there were plenty of lackeys who appealed to the fact that “it exists” as if that were somehow a coherent argument to partake in it. Instead of trying to abolish it, they claimed it was best to work within it– and one wonders, how is it possible to undermine an injustice by presupposing that it can never be removed? Those who supported the system of slavery, as it was well-documented, claimed that the system they had was natural , that it reflected human nature, and was thus “eternal,” and lots of other non-sense.

Today, those who support the free market, and the two party system are in a similar position. It’s a completely cynical, cowardly, and gloomy position– because it doesn’t really believe anything could ever fundamentally change, and it doesn’t actually think — despite all the talk to the contrary — that the issues could ever be resolved. That’s why politicians like the two-party system: because they don’t really want to come to a resolution, they’re interested in endless talk about the “most pressing problems for the nation.”

Further, here’s something for you to mull over. You’re in a contradiction– you face a choice between an either/or. You want to uphold a belief in the two-party system, and yet you’re firmly convinced that, in opposition to the Republicans, the Democrats are right, that they have the correct policies. Lots of Democrats talk as if they have the right answers to all the issues, they act like they’re going to resolve all the issues, etc. But what would become of American democracy (the two party system) if issues were resolved? Further, why shouldn’t the Democrats — if they have the right policies — take over and banish the Republicans, and institute a one-party system?

To put a finer point on it, how do you reconcile these two opposing positions: that the Democrats are right, but yet the issues should supposedly be held in suspense because you want to safeguard “debate” (in theory, at least).

Or, if this isn’t the case, then it must be the opposite. The Democrats and Republicans really actually agree on the most substantial, basic positions– and there is no real contradiction between them jointly ruling over and leading the nation. This would mean that the two parties only disagree about various secondary or derivative issues– and thus their quibbles are minor and less share less distance from one another than is claimed in fiery political rhetoric. But isn’t that what you want to deny?

And if this last point really is the case (as I actually believe), then the Democrats and Republicans are actually two sides of the same coin. If this is true, then the attention placed on the fact that there are “two parties” is just a covering or chaff, that covers up the kernel of truth: that we already live in a one party dictatorship– capital.

If we presuppose that the vast majority of people are greedy (as a lot of people insist), and if it’s clear that capitalism only benefits a small minority, then it follows that the vast majority of people have an interest in overthrowing capitalism and establishing socialism in its place. Why? Because then they will have direct collective control over production, and wealth will then go towards satisfying people’s needs which couldn’t be met under capitalism. You’ll be getting more, and since you’re greedy, you’d rather have more than less.

“That time I went to Eleusis… it was then most of all (though you had pleased me before) that piercing love lodged in my deepest bones.” –Phraedra’s letter (IV) to Hippolytus in Ovid’s Heroides

“We seem to be organizing our enemies faster than we are organizing our friends.”–James p. Cannon

P: H, you wrote, “we wouldn’t be able to care or do justice to the massive amounts of suffering we experience, without treating that suffering as part of a radical evil, or as something too horrible to analyze and overcome.” It seems to me that that’s also where the emotional dimension comes in.

H: Yes, but the emotional dimension comes in through eros, through our substantive unity with all things. It appears that reason itself can be a sensuous passion.

P: It seems true that we can have a passion for reason. Although, I’m not sure that Logos will always console us and make us feel unified. For instance, when our most sacred illusions are shattered, we seem to experience a sense of fragmentation, and sometimes our sense of identity dissolves. As for erotic love, though I think it can make us feel connected with all things, if it comes to an end, it incites pain and suffering. But, I am not convinced that we are in agreement over the meaning of eros. What is eros?

H: Eros in the philosophical sense given to it by Spinoza and Marcuse.

P: I’m not able to recall their definitions. What do they say eros is?

H: For Spinoza, eros an old Stoical doctrine called oikoisis, which means essentially the oneness of all beings, and that our interest is essentially tied with the interests of all creatures.

P: Yes, that is a very interesting notion, which seems present in many different schools of thought, societies, and religions. It even seems present in many different political ideologies. Can you go more in depth about this concept?

H: From the internet, b. Oikeiosis, a hard to translate term sometimes rendered “appropriation.” Oikeiosis is something like an act (sometimes preconscious) by which a being identifies itself with an object, either its own body or beings beyond its own body. The first form of oikeiosis is the animal’s orientation to its own self-preservation. (Stoics did recognize oikeiosis at this level as common to humans and nonhuman animals.) But for humans oikeiosis can extend outward to other humans, even to concern for the whole human species.

P: I think there are lots of profound implications to this concept that we as a species have yet to come to terms with.

H: Certainly. I would also like to bring to your attention that this is where Marx’s idea of species being comes in. The idea is that we are universal creatures since we can identify ourselves with the cosmos, and that our reason itself is identical with the connection and order of being.

P: That is certainly a noble and uplifting thought. However, I am unsure how we can know that with certainty? Perhaps certainty is not something we must possess in this instance. But, do continue.

H: The idea is this: to love ourselves is to love all of creation, or how God becomes conscious of itself through human agency. The issue is tied up with the nature of reason.

P: Yes, it seems that we are beings endowed with logos and thus the issue must be tied up with reason in some way. Though how, I am not sure. When you use the word “God,” you mean Spinoza’s God, correct? In other words, the notion that God is identical to the cosmos or universe as a whole.

H: Yes, that is right. I mean God qua nature. In book 5 of Spinoza’s Ethics, there is this humanist moment. When man loves God, God is able to love man and himself back. It reminds me of consciousness in Hegel.

P: Yes, because there must be reciprocal recognition, and one can only come to know oneself through the other.

H: The seems right, for our purposes. Through man God gets to know himself or, to put it another way, the whole becomes conscious through the activity of spirit. Now, of course, Spinoza does not have an idea of historical progression of different forms of spirit needed to recognize truth, as Hegel does.

P: That is very fascinating. If I may rephrase what you’ve said in order to grasp it clearly, what you’re saying seems to be this: For Hegel and Spinoza, nature achieves self-consciousness through man’s sensuous and rational activity?

H: Yep, you have grasped it. Though it is a very complicated issue.

P: Certainly. This notion seems similar to how Aristotle in the Metaphysics puts it: the universe thinks itself.

H: Yes, that is a good connection. However, I must go masturbate. I have a serious case of blue balls.

P: I see. Well, enjoy yourself.

When I was a young child my father would haul steel to — what seemed to me at the time — exotic places: Cleveland, Toronto, Syracuse, Pittsburgh, Youngstown, Detroit, and Chicago. He drove semi-trucks for a company called “Compass.” I remember his big green semi-truck. And I remember playing on its trailer with my little brother when we were young. My dad would leave early in the morning and return late at night. Sometimes he would be gone for a few days, some times a few hours. My brother and I would eagerly await his return. I must have been around 6 or 7 years old, and my brother Shawn was probably 4 or 5. We would hear his Semi-truck pull into the drive way around midnight. Out of bed we would hop, running to the door like excited little dogs, yelling “Dad’s home! Dad’s home!” He would always bring us treats: candy undoubtedly picked up from the gas station down the road. Yet to us, we imagined these to be treasures from a far away land, and it seemed as if he had traveled for hours simply to bring us back cow tails and snicker’s bars.

I remember as a child the hesitant warmth with which my father would help me. I was always fascinated by how things worked, and it simply seemed obvious that reverse engineering was the best way to figure things out. If you wanted to know how something was put together, take it apart! Even if there was nothing wrong with my bicycle, I would go into my dad’s garage, take his tools and dismantle my bike. Then in complete despair over the prospects of putting it back together, he would save me. Of course, I was scolded first, “what did you do to the new bike your mother just bought you for your birthday! Why did you leave my tools all about?” Then he would calm down, and gently show me how to use the tools properly, and how to put the bike back together. I learned how to not strip bolts, how to use crescent wrenches, and how to align the chain on the sprocket.

My father is not a scholarly man by any means. He graduated high-school and never looked back. But I would not say that my father was unintelligent. Certainly his wisdom was not as deep as Socrates, but few ever reach such heights. In fact, it seemed that no one I knew growing up in small town America was deep. My dad is great at fixing things, and he was a stable provider. He has abundant practical wisdom that I lack: how to fix cars and tractors, how to fix the plumbing, how to find work, how to pay bills on time, how to install dry wall and lighting– things that seem to baffle me today. I watched him sacrifice everything for his wife and children. Though my father and I never say “I love you” I see it in his eyes and in all of his actions. I really wish I was more expressive of how grateful I am to have him in my life. Whenever I come home from school, he has aged more and more. And I feel the deepest sadness come over me. I know someday he will leave us, and there is nothing I can do. I know that I must savor my remaining moments with him, and ultimately with everyone I know. Isn’t that the lesson of death and our own finitude? To learn to love each moment you have as if it were your last. To enjoy, and not lament, over the gift of life?

In March 2003 – when I was 14 years old – the United States military illegally attacked Iraq, signaling the start of a long, futile, and violent war of imperialist conquest. Now, 14 year olds generally aren’t history experts, nor are they political scientists, but I was bright enough to see the repeating historical patterns. Wasn’t Iraq similar to Vietnam, despite the significant differences? I watched the news eagerly trying to make sense of 9/11. I would listen to teachers talk about the threat of terrorism, and I would watch George Bush and his cronies give speeches. It seemed to me at the time that what George Bush was saying was inconsistent, and every other month the rationales for war became more and more pathetic. It soon dawned on me that the war had nothing to do with bringing other people “freedom”– anymore than past imperialist ventures had to do with bringing “Civilization to savages.” It was also apparent that there were no “weapons of mass destruction.” The sense of fear whipped up by both the Democratic and Republican parties was manipulated towards disgusting ends, and it was clear as day that ultimately the war only benefited the rich few who owned the giant corporations. CEOs made bank. They were making massive profits with all the tanks, guns, and equipment they could produce for the war, not to mention all the natural resources they were free to extract. The reality was that the Bush administration had been lying. I knew that I stood in solidarity with the workers of the world, and that I probably had more in common with the Iraqi child who simply wanted a decent education, a comfortable place to live, and for his family to have enough money to make ends meet than I did with George Bush or any of the corporate CEOs who were whipping up chauvinistic support for the war.

Regardless, I was not convinced with Bush’s justification for war. He argued, along with many other nonsensical things, that Iraqi terrorists attacked America as a whole on 9/11 because “’they’ hated ‘our’ freedom.” Bush claimed in his second Inaugural Address, “So, it is the policy of the United States to seek and support the growth of democratic movements and institutions in every nation and culture, with the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world.” When I heard words like this over the span of a few months, I became very skeptical. I thought even if the dozen or so terrorists on the plane were from Iraq, that does not mean they represent the whole country. Further, why is it the job of the American military to impose “democracy” on other countries? I had been thinking a lot about what democracy really was. Of course, at face value we all think we know what it is and we all tend to think it is a good thing. The problem is that the real world is much messier than any abstract definition we can give to a term, and those in power who often speak of bringing freedom and democracy use these words as a political smokescreen to cover the fundamental class interests underneath.

The media was constantly claiming that Bush did not lie. They claimed he made the best decision he could based on the given information present at the time. Karl Rove, Bush’s main goon, argued that the CIA had secret information about weapons of mass destruction which were supposedly going to be used on Americans by a cabal of “terrorists” called Al-Qaeda. If America didn’t act fast, it was supposedly obvious that there would be immanent doom. The Democrats ultimately acquiesced to these same myths. In my mind, this consensus underscored the bankruptcy of the two party system. The war effort was supported by both major parties, and both parties played a role in duping the people. I ran into many people who thought supporting the Democrats would bring an end to war. Eight years have passed and they’re still deluding themselves.

The problem was that not everyone thought this way. Most Americans are taught to think – groundlessly – from a young age that their country is a force for good and light in the world. By the time I was 14, I had been introduced to some anarchist and socialist literature– and it was only because of this – that I knew deep down that the war was wrong and that it only benefited the rich. But even if the war would have benefited the majority of Americans, it still would not have been justified, just as slavery and Jim Crow was not justified because it supposedly resulted in economic benefits for the majority of white people.

I soon decided that I could no longer stand for the pledge of allegiance everyday before class. How could I stand and pledge my support to a country that was responsible for massive death and suffering? It seemed clear that in the eyes of the vast majority of people around the world the American government had become – or perhaps always was – an out of control behemoth. How could I pledge my allegiance to a country that supported the system of slavery for as long as it did, or a system that supported Jim and Jane Crow? How could I stand and show respect for a country that treated homosexuals like shit? How could I symbolically support a system that was clearly broken and oppressing so many people? I looked around me and saw poverty, racism, sexism, and sexual oppression. School seemed like preparation for a life of meaningless drudgery in the factory or office. I no longer stood. I was the only one who never stood.
Each year the same problem arose. The teachers imagined that I was simply trying to disrespect them and would command me to stand. I would refuse. Sometimes I would get after-school detentions, but I would never show up. Most often teachers would pull me out into the hall, “Why are you not standing? You have to stand! Do you not like America? You’re an American, you should be proud of that! We’re the freest country in the world.” If this was freedom – all the oppressive and subtle mechanisms of control and obedience everywhere abounding – then I wanted no part of it. I refused to stand like all those good Germans in the 1930s. Certainly, I don’t see anything revolutionary in my young act of defiance, but I’m still amazed I had the courage to do such a thing.

I recently checked out this short documentary called Big Mama. It’s about an inner city black child named Walter whose mother was addicted to crack when he was born. She left him, and his father reared him until he was four years old. The child’s father passes away, and the boy is left to live with his 80+ year old grandma (Viola Dees). Eventually the Viola has a heart attack, and Walter is clearly emotionally devastated. Walter starts acting out in various destructive ways. He accidentally sets his house on fire while playing with matches. Walter is sent to a psychiatric ward. This scene ripped my heart out. I was covered in tears by the end and completely overcome by weariness. The movie is suggestive of so many issues: the pain and isolation felt by foster children, age discrimination, and even subtle racism. It seems that a rich white person would never have a child taken away from them.

I found Viola incredibly inspiring. She consistently keeps in mind an image of what people can become, given love, and opportunities to grow. She knows that Walter is not the mistakes of his mother. However, when Walter is sent to the mental institution, I couldn’t help but observe the crushing effects of the bureaucratic and legal system. Viola makes perhaps the most rational observation when she says “they’re experimenting on Walter with various drugs!” As an aside, I think that these scenes had a strong impression on me because I too was adopted and had to go through a lot of legal, bureaucratic, and other non-sense when I was a young child. I recalled the sense of anomie and fragmentation I felt– and I too knew Walter was feeling it. I couldn’t help but notice how potential is often squashed by modern institutions. I felt this complete sense of tragedy at the end. Viola and Walter are separated. Walter is placed in a group boys home. Inevitably, Viola will die and Walter will suffer 1000 deaths. I only hope that Walter will someday become whole, happy, and productive. The journey to wholeness is a complicated labyrinth.

Anyway, I would recommend checking out the documentary if you get a chance.

I just read this article:

http://www.csmonitor.com/World/Backchannels/2011/0127/Joe-Biden-says-Egypt-s-Mubarak-no-dictator-he-shouldn-t-step-down

Here’s my hasty response.

According to Biden, since Mubarak is aligned with the United States, the standard of dictatorship doesn’t apply to his regime. With that logic, a country may be considered democratic, only when its newspapers are pro American.

The article states, ‘Biden urged non-violence from both protesters and the government and said: “We’re encouraging the protesters to – as they assemble, do it peacefully. And we’re encouraging the government to act responsibly and – and to try to engage in a …discussion as to what the legitimate claims being made are, if they are, and try to work them out.” He also said: “I think that what we should continue to do is to encourage reasonable… accommodation and discussion to try to resolve peacefully and amicably the concerns and claims made by those who have taken to the street. And those that are legitimate should be responded to because the economic well-being and the stability of Egypt rests upon that middle class buying into the future of Egypt.”‘

In other words, Biden urges the masses to remain peaceful so that the rulers can gather their strength and crush the uprising. In words he says that the government should “act peacefully” and yet the American government is handing over millions of dollars in military aid to the Egyptian government. In words the U.S. government urges “peace,” but in deeds it uses and supports every sort of violence imaginable to maintain the status quo of poverty, corruption, and repression against the people. All the military tanks, vehicles, guns, tear gas, and whatnot that are being used against the Egyptian people are made by U.S. corporations, and the U.S. government doesn’t have a problem supporting the Egyptian rulers in using the cruelest, bloodiest means to stomp out the demonstrators.

All the idle chatter coming from the Obama administration about supporting “democracy” and “free elections” is a complete sham. It’s the same sort of shit Bush said to justify the imperialist wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. We should all choose to remember, and call it what it is. Just like Bush, Obama represents the interests of the super wealthy. They hide behind vague, fuzzy language about peaceful reform and human rights in order to put forth strategies that contradict these concepts on all levels. Don’t be a dipshit– If you want to know what hollow rhetoric used to conceal a concrete class position is, look no further that the cheap platitudes coming from the Obama administration.

Notice that Biden doesn’t mention which concerns are “legitimate.” Undoubtedly all basic concerns (over clean water, food, decent housing, jobs, education, healthcare, political freedom, et al) will be dubbed illegitimate and for this reason: because these concerns inevitably contradict the fundamental structures of capitalism, which gives rise to these social tensions in the first place. How are you going to give people jobs without going to the root of the problem? To grant these concessions, one must attack private property, and the individual ownership of the means of production. If a few individuals at the top own all the wealth, while the vast majority have next to nothing, then this teetering structure must be toppled in order for the masses to have their demands met. That’s exactly what the people in Egypt are doing. They’re taking to the streets to demand what’s rightfully theirs: all the wealth that is produced socially, but appropriated by only a few, corrupt individuals.

Our misery here in America is tied to the workers in Egypt who are struggling too. It is here as it is over there. We — and the Egyptians too — have been told that “freedom” and “prosperity” can only be brought about by adopting free market capitalism. It’s a sham. In Egypt 40 percent of the population subsists at the poverty level of $2 a day or less. The market has brought about wholesale privatizations, opening of markets and other measures that have enriched a thin layer at the top, while driving the bulk of the population into deepening poverty. There’s no sitting on the fence– one is either on the side of the oppressed, or on the side of the oppressor. The same thing is happening here, where the economic and social gap grows wider every day. If we were smart, we would take a lesson or two from the workers in Egypt. For now, we should show our solidarity and start organizing the Left where we are. It’s crucial that we link up with workers in other countries. We need more demonstrations. We need more strikes. We need more lectures. We need everything we can. We should be angry at the world image, but we sit by doing nothing while the right goes on the attack.