How Machiavelli Really Thought We Should Use Power: Two Animated Videos Provide an Introduction

Nice guys, so they say, fin­ish last. Many of us might instinc­tive­ly label such a world­view “Machi­avel­lian,” par­tial­ly for good rea­son and par­tial­ly not. It stands as a tes­ta­ment to the insights of the Renais­sance-era Flo­ren­tine polit­i­cal philoso­pher Nic­colò Machi­avel­li, expressed with great clar­i­ty and suc­cinct­ness in his books The Prince and the Dis­cours­es on Livy, not just that his name became an adjec­tive, but that it became one that remains in wide use near­ly 500 years after his death. But like oth­er such terms — “Kafkaesque” and “Orwellian” come to mind — its mod­ern usage tends to come detached from its name­sake writer’s orig­i­nal ideas.

So what did Machi­avel­li actu­al­ly have to say to human­i­ty? “Machi­avel­li’s Advice for Nice Guys,” a new ani­mat­ed video from Alain de Bot­ton’s School of Life, high­lights the core insight of his work: “that the wicked tend to win. And they do so because they have a huge advan­tage over the good: they are will­ing to act with the dark­est inge­nu­ity and cun­ning to fur­ther their cause. They are not held back by those rigid oppo­nents of change: prin­ci­ples.

They will be pre­pared to out­right lie, twist facts, threat­en or get vio­lent. They will also – when the sit­u­a­tion demands it – know how to seduc­tive­ly deceive, use charm and hon­eyed words, bedaz­zle and dis­tract. And in this way, they con­quer the world.”

This line of think­ing, put in such stark terms, can make Machi­avel­li seem like an off­putting­ly harsh (if quite intel­li­gent) char­ac­ter. But his writ­ing is more nuanced: he advo­cates not using flat-out lies and vio­lence to achieve one’s ends, but indeed to be nice — just “nev­er to be over­ly devot­ed to act­ing nice­ly,” an atti­tude he thought the West­’s pop­u­lar read­ings of the sto­ry of Jesus of Nazareth too often advo­cat­ed —  while always know­ing “how to bor­row – when need be – every sin­gle trick employed by the most cyn­i­cal, das­tard­ly, unscrupu­lous and nas­ti­est peo­ple who have ever lived.” Nice guys, in short, have no choice but to learn from their ene­mies.

You can learn more about the some­times har­row­ing expe­ri­ences that taught Machi­avel­li all this in the School of Life’s intro­duc­tion to his polit­i­cal the­o­ry just above. He reck­oned, more mem­o­rably than any oth­er, “the price of deal­ing with the world as it is, and not as we feel it should be. The world has con­tin­ued to love and hate Machi­avel­li in equal mea­sure for insist­ing on this uncom­fort­able truth.” Machi­avel­li, as Salman Rushdie put it in a clip we fea­tured a few years ago, lived in a time when Italy’s rul­ing fam­i­lies behaved “in the most ruth­less way, and he wrote this lit­tle trea­tise about not what he would like things to be like, but how pow­er actu­al­ly works, which he observed.” Rushdie calls the neg­a­tive asso­ci­a­tions with the philoso­pher’s name “a clas­sic case of shoot­ing the mes­sen­ger” — some­thing, alas, even the most good-inten­tioned ruler may find him­self forced to do once in a while.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Salman Rushdie: Machiavelli’s Bad Rap

Intro­duc­tion to Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Yale Course

Allan Bloom’s Lec­tures on Machi­avel­li (Boston Col­lege, 1983)

6 Polit­i­cal The­o­rists Intro­duced in Ani­mat­ed “School of Life” Videos: Marx, Smith, Rawls & More

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Did Plato’s Republic Predict the Rise of Donald Trump?: A Chilling Animated Video Narrated by Andrew Sullivan

We stand, per­haps, at the thresh­old of the sin­gu­lar­i­ty, that great event when machine intel­li­gence over­takes our own. The writhing of late cap­i­tal­ism may in fact be the death throes of West­ern moder­ni­ty and, for both good and ill, much of its Enlight­en­ment lega­cy. Insti­tu­tions like the press and the polling indus­try have stum­bled bad­ly. No amount of denial­ism will stop the cli­mate cri­sis. Some­thing entire­ly new seems poised for its emer­gence into the world, though what it might be no one seems ful­ly equipped to say. Why, then, should we look back to Pla­to to explain our epoch, a philoso­pher who had no famil­iar­i­ty with mod­ern weapon­ry, arti­fi­cial intel­li­gence, or infor­ma­tion sys­tems?

Per­haps a bet­ter ques­tion is: do we and should we still val­ue the con­tri­bu­tions of Euro­pean phi­los­o­phy in con­tem­po­rary life? If so, then we must allow that Pla­to may be per­pet­u­al­ly rel­e­vant to learned dis­course. Alfred North White­head famous­ly char­ac­ter­ized “the Euro­pean philo­soph­i­cal tra­di­tion” as “a series of foot­notes to Pla­to.” Sug­gest­ing his agree­ment with the sen­ti­ment, Mas­si­mo Pigli­uc­ci titled his reg­u­lar col­umn at The Philosopher’s Mag­a­zine, “Foot­notes to Pla­to.” Though he did not invent his mode of inquiry, and often got it very wrong, Pla­to, he writes, “is a tow­er­ing fig­ure for an entire way of think­ing about fun­da­men­tal ques­tions.”

There may be few ques­tions more fun­da­men­tal than those we now ask in the U.S. about tyran­ny, its ori­gins and remedy—about how we arrived at where we are and what eth­i­cal and prac­ti­cal mat­ters lie in the hands of the cit­i­zen­ry. These ques­tions were cen­tral to the thought of Socrates, Plato’s men­tor and pri­ma­ry char­ac­ter in his dia­logues, who had some sur­pris­ing­ly con­trar­i­an ideas on the mat­ter in The Repub­lic. Here, as Andrew Sul­li­van tells us in the BBC News­night video above, Socrates the­o­rizes that “Tyran­ny is prob­a­bly estab­lished out of no oth­er regime than democ­ra­cy.”

The state­ment shocks us, but it also ran counter to the Athen­ian sen­ti­ments of Plato’s day. The pic­ture Socrates paints of democracy’s ills finds its echo in the con­tem­po­rary conservative’s world­view, but we should point out that Sul­li­van mis­rep­re­sents the text he reads as one con­tin­u­ous pas­sage, when it is actu­al­ly a series of excerpt­ed quo­ta­tions. And as always, we should be care­ful not to try and see our own par­ti­san divides in ancient thought. Socrates also had many oth­er things to say the mod­ern right finds tru­ly objec­tion­able.

The prob­lem with democ­ra­cy, Socrates thought, was too much free­dom. Its “free­doms mul­ti­ply,” he says,

until it becomes a many-col­ored clock dec­o­rat­ed in all hues. Men are inter­change­able with women, and all their nat­ur­al dif­fer­ences for­got­ten. Ani­mals have rights. For­eign­ers can come and work just like cit­i­zens. Chil­dren boss their par­ents around. Teach­ers are afraid of their stu­dents. The rich try to look just like the poor.

Soon every kind of inequal­i­ty is despised. The wealthy are par­tic­u­lar­ly loathed. And elites in gen­er­al are treat­ed as sus­pect, per­pet­u­at­ing inequal­i­ty and rep­re­sent­ing injus­tice.

Under such pre­sum­ably deca­dent con­di­tions, “a would-be tyrant would seize his moment”:

He is usu­al­ly of the elite but is in tune with the time. Giv­en over to ran­dom plea­sures and whims. Feast­ing on food, and espe­cial­ly sex.

He makes his move by tak­ing over a par­tic­u­lar­ly obe­di­ent mob, and attack­ing his wealthy peers as cor­rupt. He is a trai­tor to his class, and soon his elite ene­mies find a way to appease him or are forced to flee.

Even­tu­al­ly he stands alone, offer­ing the addled, dis­tract­ed, self-indul­gent cit­i­zens a kind of relief from democ­ra­cy’s end­less choic­es and inse­cu­ri­ties.

He rides a back­lash to suc­cess. Too much free­dom seems to change into noth­ing but too much slav­ery. He offers him­self as the per­son­i­fied answer to all prob­lems. To replace the elites, and rule alone on behalf of the mass­es. And as the peo­ple thrill to him as a kind of solu­tion, a democ­ra­cy will­ing­ly, impetu­ous­ly, repeals itself.

The grim, dra­mat­ic ani­mat­ed video that accom­pa­nies Sullivan’s nar­ra­tion of this chill­ing­ly pre­scient ancient text is not sub­tle about the mod­ern par­al­lels. We can hearti­ly debate the diag­no­sis of “too much free­dom” as the cause of democracy’s yield­ing to tyran­ny. But what­ev­er democ­ra­cy’s fail­ings, the effects Pla­to describes above are as evi­dent today as they were almost 2300 years ago, though we may flat­ter our­selves in think­ing that the mechan­ics of our polit­i­cal sys­tems have evolved since then. In any case, our tech­no­log­i­cal evo­lu­tion means that unlike in Pla­to’s day, the rise of a tyrant like Don­ald Trump, as Sul­li­van wrote last year, may be “an extinc­tion-lev­el event.”

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Why Socrates Hat­ed Democ­ra­cies: An Ani­mat­ed Case for Why Self-Gov­ern­ment Requires Wis­dom & Edu­ca­tion

Intro­duc­tion to Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Yale Course 

Phi­los­o­phy Bites: Pod­cast­ing Ideas From Pla­to to Sin­gu­lar­i­ty Since 2007

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Introduction to Political Philosophy: A Free Yale Course

Taught by pro­fes­sor Steven B. Smith, this course from Yale Uni­ver­si­ty offers an Intro­duc­tion to Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy, and cov­ers the fol­low­ing ground:

This course is intend­ed as an intro­duc­tion to polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy as seen through an exam­i­na­tion of some of the major texts and thinkers of the West­ern polit­i­cal tra­di­tion. Three broad themes that are cen­tral to under­stand­ing polit­i­cal life are focused upon: the polis expe­ri­ence (Pla­to, Aris­to­tle), the sov­er­eign state (Machi­avel­li, Hobbes), con­sti­tu­tion­al gov­ern­ment (Locke), and democ­ra­cy (Rousseau, Toc­queville). The way in which dif­fer­ent polit­i­cal philoso­phies have giv­en expres­sion to var­i­ous forms of polit­i­cal insti­tu­tions and our ways of life are exam­ined through­out the course.

You can watch the 24 lec­tures from the course above, or find them on YouTube. To get more infor­ma­tion on the course, includ­ing the syl­labus, vis­it this Yale web­site.

The main texts used in this course include the fol­low­ing. You can find them in our col­lec­tion of Free eBooks.

Intro­duc­tion to Polit­i­cal Phi­los­o­phy will be added to our col­lec­tion, 1,700 Free Online Cours­es from Top Uni­ver­si­ties. There you can find a spe­cial­ized list of Free Online Phi­los­o­phy Cours­es.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. It’s a great way to see our new posts, all bun­dled in one email, each day.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

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An Introduction to the Life & Thought of Hannah Arendt: Presented by the BBC Radio’s In Our Time

Unset­tling his­tor­i­cal par­al­lels between the new­ly-devel­op­ing world order and the ter­rors that scourged Europe in the 1930s and 40s now seem unde­ni­able to most informed observers of con­tem­po­rary geopol­i­tics. Euro­peans have their own polit­i­cal crises to weath­er, but all eyes cur­rent­ly seem trained on the mil­i­tary behe­moth that is my own coun­try. “These are not nor­mal times,” admits Jane Chong at Law­fare. Though she cri­tiques Nazi com­par­isons as need­less­ly alarmist, she “sees no rea­son for opti­mism.” While ref­er­ences to his­to­ry’s great­est vil­lain abound, we’ve also seen Aus­tralian sci­en­tist Alan Finkel com­pare the U.S. leader to Joseph Stal­in for the sup­pres­sion and cen­sor­ship of envi­ron­men­tal data.

The dev­as­ta­tion Hitler and Stal­in vis­it­ed upon West­ern and East­ern Europe can hard­ly be overstated—and we still find it near­ly impos­si­ble to com­pre­hend. But not soon after the end of World War II, one of the 20th century’s most prob­ing ana­lysts of polit­i­cal thought attempt­ed to do just that.

Han­nah Arendt’s 1951 The Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism remains one of “sev­er­al sem­i­nal works on tyran­ny and oppres­sion that have recent­ly gained pop­u­lar­i­ty among read­ers,” notes Ali­son Gris­wold at Quartz. And Arendt’s 1963 clas­sic Eich­mann in Jerusalem also con­tin­ues to inform the moment, offer­ing a “sober­ing reflec­tion,” writes Maria Popo­va, on what Arendt called “the fear­some, word-and-thought-defy­ing banal­i­ty of evil.”

Arendt’s renewed rel­e­vance recent­ly prompt­ed Melvyn Bragg, host of the excel­lent BBC Radio pro­gram In Our Time, to bring three guest phi­los­o­phy pro­fes­sors—Robert Eagle­stone, Fris­bee Sheffield, and Lyn­d­sey Stone­bridgeon air to dis­cuss her ideas and influ­ence. Bragg begins with a brief out­line of Arendt’s biog­ra­phy, then turns to Sheffield, a lec­tur­er at Gir­ton Col­lege, Cam­bridge, for elab­o­ra­tion. They imme­di­ate­ly address one of the most con­tro­ver­sial aspects of Arendt’s young life, her affair with her men­tor, Mar­tin Hei­deg­ger, who joined the Nazi par­ty and remained a true believ­er in its ide­ol­o­gy.

But the con­ver­sa­tion quick­ly moves on from there to encom­pass Arendt’s mul­ti-dimen­sion­al thought. “There’s a great range to her writ­ings,” says Sheffield. A trained clas­si­cist, Arendt wrote her dis­ser­ta­tion on the idea of love in St. Augus­tine. Her most philo­soph­i­cal work, The Human Con­di­tion, drew on clas­si­cal con­cepts to rank human activ­i­ty into a hier­ar­chy of labor, work, and action. She “wrote on a great range of top­ics,” Sheffield notes, though “there is a con­sis­tent inter­est in pol­i­tics and polit­i­cal themes through­out her work.”

Yet Arendt reject­ed the label of polit­i­cal philoso­pher and is her­self “hard to pin down” polit­i­cal­ly. Her 1963 book On Rev­o­lu­tion, cri­tiqued left­ist and Marx­ist thought and praised the Amer­i­can Rev­o­lu­tion for its con­sti­tu­tion­al­ism. She was skep­ti­cal of the notion of uni­ver­sal human rights, and her essay On Vio­lence made the argu­ment that vio­lence appears only in the absence of polit­i­cal pow­er, not its ascen­den­cy. As we learn from lis­ten­ing to Bragg’s assem­bled pan­el of guests, Arendt con­sis­tent­ly empha­sized two clas­si­cal con­cepts: the val­ue of a civic and polit­i­cal order and the impor­tance of the “life of the mind,” also the title of a two-vol­ume work pub­lished posthu­mous­ly in 1978.

In Our Time’s short, live­ly con­ver­sa­tion pro­vides an excel­lent intro­duc­tion to Arendt’s life and work. To dive more deeply into the Arendt cor­pus, vis­it Bard College’s Han­nah Arendt Cen­ter for Pol­i­tics and Human­i­ties, browse the Library of Congress’s Han­nah Arendt Papers, and read Lyn­d­sey Stonebridge’s short online essay “Han­nah Arendt’s Refugee His­to­ry.” You’ll also find an exten­sive read­ing list of pri­ma­ry and sec­ondary sources at the In Our Time BBC page.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Han­nah Arendt Explains How Pro­pa­gan­da Uses Lies to Erode All Truth & Moral­i­ty: Insights from The Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism

Han­nah Arendt on “Per­son­al Respon­si­bil­i­ty Under Dic­ta­tor­ship:” Bet­ter to Suf­fer Than Col­lab­o­rate

Han­nah Arendt Dis­cuss­es Phi­los­o­phy, Pol­i­tics & Eich­mann in Rare 1964 TV Inter­view

Han­nah Arendt’s Orig­i­nal Arti­cles on “the Banal­i­ty of Evil” in the New York­er Archive

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Discover the 1126 Books in John Cage’s Personal Library: Foucault, Joyce, Wittgenstein, Virginia Woolf, Buckminster Fuller & More

Image by or Rob Bogaerts/Fotocollectie Ane­fo

To prop­er­ly hon­or your cul­tur­al role mod­els, don’t try to do what they did, or even to think what they thought, but to think how they thought. This goes at least dou­ble for John Cage, the exper­i­men­tal com­pos­er whose inno­v­a­tive works can be, and often are, re-staged (go on, have four min­utes and 33 sec­onds of silence to your­self), but it takes a dif­fer­ent kind of effort alto­geth­er to cul­ti­vate the kind of mind that would come up with them in the first place. As a means of acti­vat­ing your own inner Cage­ness, you could do much worse than read through his per­son­al library, a list of whose books you’ll find at johncage.org.

The vol­umes num­ber 1126 in total, and if you load the library’s main page, it will present you with a list of ten ran­dom­ly select­ed books. (You can get a list of all of them by select­ing the “See Entire Library” option on the left side­bar.)

Hit­ting refresh a few times will give you a sense of the breadth of Cage’s read­ing: Emma Gold­man on anar­chism, Chi­nese poet­ry gath­ered by Ken­neth Rexroth, M. Con­rad Hyers’ Zen and the Com­ic Spir­it (two of Cage’s dri­ving forces if ever I’ve heard them), How to Play Backgam­mon, essays on Ulysses (an inter­est shared with Mar­i­lyn Mon­roe), and even essays on John Cage. Here we’ve assem­bled a list of ten books from Cage’s library of par­tic­u­lar inter­est to the Open Cul­ture read­er:

To those who know any­thing of Cage’s life and inter­ests, his shelves on healthy eating—on which Din­ing Nat­u­ral­ly in Japan: A Restau­rant Guide to Whole­some Food also appears, as, nat­u­ral­ly giv­en the era and Cage’s acquired north­ern-Cal­i­for­ni­an­ness, The Tas­sa­jara Bread Bookand espe­cial­ly the eat­ing of mush­rooms, come as no sur­prise, nor might his incli­na­tion toward phi­los­o­phy. But we should note what looks like a par­tic­u­lar fas­ci­na­tion with the work of Lud­wig Wittgen­stein, evi­denced by 22 of the books in his library: his best-known works like the Trac­ta­tus Logi­co-Philo­soph­i­cus, but also his let­ters, lec­tures, and note­books, as well as biogra­phies, com­men­taries, and Wittgen­stein and Bud­dhism, which Cage must have con­sid­ered an excit­ing find indeed.

In one of his most quotable quotes, Cage describes col­lege as “two hun­dred peo­ple read­ing the same book. An obvi­ous mis­take. Two hun­dred peo­ple can read two hun­dred books.” And indeed, 1126 peo­ple can read 1126 books—or many more peo­ple can each read a dif­fer­ent sub­set of those books. While you could method­i­cal­ly read your way through Cage’s entire library, and would sure­ly learn a great deal in the process, would­n’t mak­ing use of the unthink­ing guid­ance of the ten-ran­dom-books func­tion, sur­ren­der­ing the direc­tion of this infor­mal edu­ca­tion to the kind of chance that places Paul Bowles next to the com­mon fun­gi of North Amer­i­can and Charles Ives next to Ital­ian futur­ism, be a much more Cagean way of going about it?

(h/t @lrlarson)

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Avant-Garde Com­pos­er John Cage’s Sur­pris­ing Mush­room Obses­sion (Which Began with His Pover­ty in the Depres­sion)

The Music of Avant-Garde Com­pos­er John Cage Now Avail­able in a Free Online Archive

John Cage Unbound: A New Dig­i­tal Archive Pre­sent­ed by The New York Pub­lic Library

Jorge Luis Borges Selects 74 Books for Your Per­son­al Library

The 321 Books in David Fos­ter Wallace’s Per­son­al Library: From Blood Merid­i­an to Con­fes­sions of an Unlike­ly Body­builder

A Look Inside Han­nah Arendt’s Per­son­al Library: Down­load Mar­gin­a­lia from 90 Books (Hei­deg­ger, Kant, Marx & More)

The 430 Books in Mar­i­lyn Monroe’s Library: How Many Have You Read?

Darwin’s Per­son­al Library Goes Dig­i­tal: 330 Books Online

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. He’s at work on a book about Los Ange­les, A Los Ange­les Primer, the video series The City in Cin­e­ma, the crowd­fund­ed jour­nal­ism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Ange­les Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

Animated Video Tells the Story of Jean-Paul Sartre & Albert Camus’ Famous Falling Out (1952)

Yes­ter­day we wrote about Albert Camus’ role as the edi­tor of Com­bat, a news­pa­per that emerged from a French Resis­tance cell and played a cen­tral role in the ide­o­log­i­cal con­flicts of post-war France. Camus wrote essay after essay about the prob­lems of vio­lent extrem­ism and the com­pli­ca­tions inher­ent in form­ing a new demo­c­ra­t­ic civ­il order. Although he briefly fought along­side Com­mu­nists in the resis­tance, and stood in sol­i­dar­i­ty with their cause, Camus would split with his Marx­ist allies after the war and come to define his own anar­chist polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy, one he described as “mod­est… free of all mes­sian­ic ele­ments and devoid of any nos­tal­gia for an earth­ly par­adise.”

Camus gave the fullest expo­si­tion of his posi­tion in The Rebel, a cri­tique of rev­o­lu­tion­ary vio­lence on both the left and right. Pub­lished in 1951, this com­pelling, impres­sion­is­tic work is an ethics as much as a politics–indeed, the two were insep­a­ra­ble for Camus. To pro­ceed oth­er­wise was a form of nihilism that would only end in pro­found unfree­dom. “Nihilist thought,” he wrote in the chap­ter on “Mod­er­a­tion and Excess,” ignores the lim­its of human nature; “noth­ing any longer checks it in its course and it reach­es the point of jus­ti­fy­ing total destruc­tion or unlim­it­ed con­quest.”

Fas­cism and Nazism were not far from Camus’ mind when he wrote these words. But he also referred to the increas­ing­ly doc­tri­naire Stal­in­ism of his close friend and fel­low exis­ten­tial­ist Jean-Paul Sartre, who, writes Sam Dress­er at Aeon, read The Rebel with “dis­gust.” Sartre pub­lished a scathing review in his jour­nal, Les Temps Mod­ernes. Camus sent a long reply, and Sartre coun­tered with what Volk­er Hage in Der Spiegel calls a “mer­ci­less” response. “The split between the two friends,” writes Dress­er, “was a media sen­sa­tion,” the kind of pop­u­lar feud between pub­lic intel­lec­tu­als that may only hap­pen in France.

Ani­mat­ed by Andrew Khos­ra­vani, the Aeon video above gives us a brief nar­ra­tive of the famous falling-out. There may be “no bet­ter bust-up in the annals of phi­los­o­phy than the row between” these “two titans of Exis­ten­tial­ism.” The two fought not only over ideas, but over women, includ­ing Sartre’s famous part­ner Simone de Beau­voir. (Camus offend­ed Sartre by turn­ing down her advances.) Both Sartre and Camus “wor­ried about how to make mean­ing in an essen­tial­ly absurd, god­less world.” But Sartre, Camus thought, abro­gat­ed the rad­i­cal free­dom he had writ­ten of in works like Being and Noth­ing­ness with his accep­tance of dialec­ti­cal mate­ri­al­ism and his admi­ra­tion for an author­i­tar­i­an regime that impris­oned and mur­dered its own peo­ple.

Camus found the con­tra­dic­tions in Sartre’s thought intol­er­a­ble, and he begins The Rebel with a philo­soph­i­cal inquiry into the ethics of killing. Can mur­der be jus­ti­fied in the name of a utopi­an ide­al? Camus was not a pacifist—he had no prob­lem fight­ing the Nazi occu­pa­tion. But he cat­e­gor­i­cal­ly reject­ed rev­o­lu­tion­ary vio­lence and all forms of extrem­ism in the name of some “earth­ly par­adise.” Sartre and Camus could not agree to dis­agree and went their sep­a­rate ways, and Camus died in a car acci­dent in 1960. In a heart­felt appre­ci­a­tion that Sartre penned short­ly before his own death 20 years lat­er, he called Camus, “prob­a­bly my only good friend.”

Read more about Sartre-Camus rift at Aeon.

NOTE: The cre­ator of this video is now look­ing to raise funds to pro­duce new ani­ma­tions about philo­soph­i­cal feuds. Please con­sid­er con­tribut­ing to their Kick­starter cam­paign.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Albert Camus, Edi­tor of the French Resis­tance News­pa­per Com­bat, Writes Mov­ing­ly About Life, Pol­i­tics & War (1944–47)      

Sartre Writes a Trib­ute to Camus After His Friend-Turned-Rival Dies in a Trag­ic Car Crash: “There Is an Unbear­able Absur­di­ty in His Death”

Albert Camus Writes a Friend­ly Let­ter to Jean-Paul Sartre Before Their Per­son­al and Philo­soph­i­cal Rift

The Exis­ten­tial­ism Files: How the FBI Tar­get­ed Camus, and Then Sartre After the JFK Assas­si­na­tion

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Albert Camus, Editor of the French Resistance Newspaper Combat, Writes Movingly About Life, Politics & War (1944–47)

Image by Unit­ed Press Inter­na­tion­al, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

When total­i­tar­i­an regimes around the world are in pow­er, writ­ing that tells the truth—whether lit­er­ary, jour­nal­is­tic, sci­en­tif­ic, or legal—effectively serves as counter-pro­pa­gan­da. To write hon­est­ly is to expose: to uncov­er what is hid­den, stand apart from it, and observe. These actions are anath­e­ma to dic­ta­tor­ships. But they are inte­gral to resis­tance move­ments, which must devel­op their own press in order to dis­sem­i­nate ideas oth­er than offi­cial state dog­ma.

For the French Resis­tance dur­ing World War II, one such pub­li­ca­tion that served the pur­pose came from a cell called “Com­bat,” which gave its name to the under­ground news­pa­per to which Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus both con­tributed dur­ing and after the war. Camus became Com­bat’s edi­tor and edi­to­r­i­al writer between 1944 and 1947. Dur­ing his tenure, he “was sus­pi­cious,” writes Michael McDon­ald, and he urged his read­ers to “be sus­pi­cious of those who speak the loud­est in defense of demo­c­ra­t­ic ideals and absolutes but whose goal is to instill fear in oppo­nents and to silence dis­sent.”

Camus wit­nessed and record­ed the lib­er­a­tion of France from the Nazi occu­pa­tion in mov­ing pas­sages like this one:

Paris is fir­ing all its ammu­ni­tion into the August night. Against a vast back­drop of water and stone, on both sides of a riv­er awash with his­to­ry, free­dom’s bar­ri­cades are once again being erect­ed. Once again jus­tice must be redeemed with men’s blood.

After the pre­vi­ous­ly unthink­able event that end­ed the war in the Pacif­ic, the 1945 bomb­ings of Hiroshi­ma and Nagasa­ki, Camus explic­it­ly cri­tiqued the “for­mi­da­ble con­cert” of opin­ion impressed with fact that “any aver­age city can be wiped out by a bomb the size of a foot­ball.” Against these “elo­quent essays,” he wrote dark­ly,

We can sum it up in one sen­tence: our tech­ni­cal civ­i­liza­tion has just reached its great­est lev­el of sav­agery. We will have to choose, in the more or less near future, between col­lec­tive sui­cide and the intel­li­gent use of our sci­en­tif­ic con­quests.

Camus heav­i­ly doc­u­ment­ed the ear­ly post-war years in France, as the coun­try slow­ly recon­sti­tut­ed itself, and as coali­tions for­mer­ly unit­ed in resis­tance col­lapsed into com­pet­ing fac­tions. He was alarmed by not only by the fas­cists on the right, but by the many French social­ists seduced by Stal­in­ism. The very next month after the lib­er­a­tion of Paris, Camus began address­ing the “prob­lem of gov­ern­ment” in an essay titled “To Make Democ­ra­cy.” Gov­ern­ment, writes Camus, “is, to a great extent our prob­lem, as it is indeed the prob­lem of every­one,” but he pref­aced his own posi­tion with, “we do not believe in pol­i­tics with­out clear lan­guage.”

By Decem­ber of 1944, a few months before the fall of Berlin, Camus had grown deeply reflec­tive, express­ing atti­tudes found in many eye­wit­ness accounts. “France has lived through many tragedies,” he wrote, and “will live through many more.” The tragedy of the war, he wrote, was “the tragedy of sep­a­ra­tion.”

Who would dare speak the word “hap­pi­ness” in these tor­tured times? Yet mil­lions today con­tin­ue to seek hap­pi­ness. These years have been for them only a pro­longed post­pone­ment, at the end of which they hope to find that the pos­si­bil­i­ty for hap­pi­ness has been renewed. Who could blame them? … We entered this war not because of any love of con­quest, but to defend a cer­tain notion of hap­pi­ness. Our desire for hap­pi­ness was so fierce and pure that it seemed to jus­ti­fy all the years of unhap­pi­ness. Let us retain the mem­o­ry of this hap­pi­ness and of those who have lost it.

These lucid, pas­sion­ate essays “include lit­tle that is obso­lete,” wrote Stan­ley Hoff­man at For­eign Affairs in 2006. “Indeed it is shock­ing to find how cur­rent Camus’ fears, exhor­ta­tions, and aspi­ra­tions still are.” Hoff­man par­tic­u­lar­ly found Camus’ demand “for moral­i­ty in pol­i­tics” com­pelling. Though “deemed naïve… [by] many oth­er philoso­phers and writ­ers of his time,” Camus’ insis­tence on clar­i­ty of thought and eth­i­cal choice made for what he called “a mod­est polit­i­cal phi­los­o­phy… free of all mes­sian­ic ele­ments and devoid of any nos­tal­gia for an earth­ly par­adise.” How sober­ing those words sound in our cur­rent moment.

Camus’ Com­bat essays have been col­lect­ed in Prince­ton Uni­ver­si­ty Press’s Camus at Com­bat: Writ­ing 1944–1947 and in Between Hell and Rea­son: Essays from the Resis­tance News­pa­per Com­bat, 1944–1947 from Wes­leyan.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Albert Camus: The Mad­ness of Sin­cer­i­ty — 1997 Doc­u­men­tary Revis­its the Philosopher’s Life & Work

Albert Camus Talks About Nihilism & Adapt­ing Dostoyevsky’s The Pos­sessed for the The­atre, 1959

Albert Camus’ His­toric Lec­ture, “The Human Cri­sis,” Per­formed by Actor Vig­go Mortensen

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

Hannah Arendt on “Personal Responsibility Under Dictatorship:” Better to Suffer Than Collaborate

Image by Bernd Schwabe, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

When Eich­mann in JerusalemHan­nah Arendt’s book about Nazi offi­cer Adolf Eichmann’s tri­alcame out in 1963, it con­tributed one of the most famous of post-war ideas to the dis­course, the “banal­i­ty of evil.” And the con­cept at first caused a crit­i­cal furor. “Enor­mous con­tro­ver­sy cen­tered on what Arendt had writ­ten about the con­duct of the tri­al, her depic­tion of Eich­mann, and her dis­cus­sion of the role of the Jew­ish Coun­cils,” writes Michael Ezra at Dis­sent mag­a­zine “Eich­mann, she claimed, was not a ‘mon­ster’; instead, she sus­pect­ed, he was a ‘clown.’”

Arendt blamed vic­tims who were forced to col­lab­o­rate, crit­ics charged, and made the Nazi offi­cer seem ordi­nary and unre­mark­able, reliev­ing him of the extreme moral weight of his respon­si­bil­i­ty. She answered these charges in an essay titled “Per­son­al Respon­si­bil­i­ty Under Dic­ta­tor­ship,” pub­lished in 1964. Here, she aims to clar­i­fy the ques­tion in her title by argu­ing that if Eich­mann were allowed to rep­re­sent a mon­strous and inhu­man sys­tem, rather than shock­ing­ly ordi­nary human beings, his con­vic­tion would make him a scape­goat and let oth­ers off the hook. Instead, she believes that every­one who worked for the regime, what­ev­er their motives, is com­plic­it and moral­ly cul­pa­ble.

But although most peo­ple are cul­pa­ble of great moral crimes, those who col­lab­o­rat­ed were not, in fact, crim­i­nals. On the con­trary, they chose to fol­low the rules in a demon­stra­bly crim­i­nal regime. It’s a nuance that becomes a stark moral chal­lenge. Arendt points out that every­one who served the regime agreed to degrees of vio­lence when they had oth­er options, even if those might be fatal. Quot­ing Mary McCarthy, she writes, “If some­body points a gun at you and says, ‘Kill your friend or I will kill you,’ he is tempt­ing you, that is all.”

While this cir­cum­stance may pro­vide a “legal excuse,” for killing, Arendt seeks to define a “moral issue,” a Socrat­ic prin­ci­ple she had “tak­en for grant­ed” that we all believed: “It is bet­ter to suf­fer than do wrong,” even when doing wrong is the law. Peo­ple like Eich­mann were not crim­i­nals and psy­chopaths, Arendt argued, but rule-fol­low­ers pro­tect­ed by social priv­i­lege. “It was pre­cise­ly the mem­bers of respectable soci­ety,” she writes, “who had not been touched by the intel­lec­tu­al and moral upheaval in the ear­ly stages of the Nazi peri­od, who were the first to yield. They sim­ply exchanged one sys­tem of val­ues against anoth­er,” with­out reflect­ing on the moral­i­ty of the entire new sys­tem.

Those who refused, on the oth­er hand, who even “chose to die,” rather than kill, did not have “high­ly devel­oped intel­li­gence or sophis­ti­ca­tion in moral mat­ters.” But they were crit­i­cal thinkers prac­tic­ing what Socrates called a “silent dia­logue between me and myself,” and they refused to face a future where they would have to live with them­selves after com­mit­ting or enabling atroc­i­ties. We must remem­ber, Arendt writes, that “what­ev­er else hap­pens, as long as we live we shall have to live togeth­er with our­selves.”

Such refusals to par­tic­i­pate might be small and pri­vate and seem­ing­ly inef­fec­tu­al, but in large enough num­bers, they would mat­ter. “All gov­ern­ments,” Arendt writes, quot­ing James Madi­son, “rest on con­sent,” rather than abject obe­di­ence. With­out the con­sent of gov­ern­ment and cor­po­rate employ­ees, the “leader… would be help­less.” Arendt admits the unlike­ly effec­tive­ness of active oppo­si­tion to a one-par­ty author­i­tar­i­an state. And yet when peo­ple feel most pow­er­less, most under duress, she writes, an hon­est “admis­sion of one’s own impo­tence” can give us “a last rem­nant of strength” to refuse.

We have only for a moment to imag­ine what would hap­pen to any of these forms of gov­ern­ment if enough peo­ple would act “irre­spon­si­bly” and refuse sup­port, even with­out active resis­tance and rebel­lion, to see how effec­tive a weapon this could be. It is in fact one of the many vari­a­tions of non­vi­o­lent action and resistance—for instance the pow­er that is poten­tial in civ­il dis­obe­di­ence.

We have exam­ple after exam­ple of these kinds of refusals to par­tic­i­pate in a mur­der­ous sys­tem or fur­ther its aims. Arendt was aware these actions can come at great cost. The alter­na­tives, she argues, may be far worse.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Han­nah Arendt Explains How Pro­pa­gan­da Uses Lies to Erode All Truth & Moral­i­ty: Insights from The Ori­gins of Total­i­tar­i­an­ism

Han­nah Arendt’s Orig­i­nal Arti­cles on “the Banal­i­ty of Evil” in the New York­er Archive

Hen­ry David Thore­au on When Civ­il Dis­obe­di­ence and Resis­tance Are Jus­ti­fied (1849)

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

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