The Enlightened Romantic

The Enlightenment began admirably by liberating men from despotic rulers, slavery, and serfdom, reducing superstition, the abject hold of religion, and creating the framework of human rights—its legacy is evident in present day social struggles. Inspired in part by the newly acquired scientific method, it also suggested that history can have a design, that it can converge to a universal civilization where men would come to acquire the same values, only error and prejudice block the path to the perfect society. It transformed human thought and action by nurturing the ideas of linear progress and 'perfectibility' of man. People can live by reason alone, once they give up superstition and fanaticism; mathematics and natural science will ultimately yield solutions to the moral, social, political and economic problems of humankind; scientific and 'objective' principles can steer history towards compatible, rational ends. Such ideas, in inflamed forms, influenced communism and numerous other excesses of secular faith. An immoderate love of social ideals, particularly in the name of progress or reason, often breeds its own tyrannies.

Romanticism rebelled against the ideological optimism of the Enlightenment: none can live by reason alone; people are also shaped by their roots, homeland, ties of blood and marriage, experiences, temperament and tradition—and other submerged suprarational forces integral to humans—which inform their various, at times, incommensurate ends. The logic of science does not extend to human behavior. "Values are not discovered, they are created; not found, but made by an act of imaginative, creative will, as works of art, as policies, plans, patterns of life are created." Diversity calls for celebration – there is merit in the age-old corporate solidarities and cultural mores by which human society holds together. It championed plurality of values, cultural history, and rejected the evaluation of civilizations by a single yardstick. This was a blow to the central Western belief thus far—religious or secular—that true human values are universal, immutable, timeless, that a perfect society was, in principle, realizable. Alas, in preaching tolerance for the diversity of values and aspirations, Romanticism, at times, swung towards extreme forms of relativism, nationalism, chauvinism, and irrationalism.

We are the children of both the Enlightenment and Romanticism, shift back and forth between them. Mine-fields lie at the extremes of each; we would do well to tread the middle ground, to survey the fault lines. In his celebrated works, Dostoevsky rationally interrogated the Reason of the Enlightenment, much as Foucault did later: "What is this Reason that we use? What are its historical effects ... limits ... dangers? How can we exist as rational beings, fortunately committed to practicing a rationality that is unfortunately crisscrossed by intrinsic dangers? ... this question ... is both central and extremely difficult to resolve. In addition, if it is extremely dangerous to say that Reason is the enemy that should be eliminated, it is just as dangerous to say that any critical questioning of this rationality risks sending us into irrationality." Only the exercise of reason, for instance, reveals the dangers in schemes that aim to rationalize society (or our conduct). Here are some worthy quotes:

Those who believe that final truths may be reached, that there is some ideal order of life on earth which may be attained, will, however benevolent their desires, however pure their hearts, however noble and disinterested their ideals, always end by repressing and destroying human beings in their march toward the Promised Land. [Isaiah Berlin]

Too often the excessive pursuit of one ideal leads to the exclusion of others, perhaps all others; in our eagerness to realize justice we come to forget charity, and a passion for righteousness has made many a man hard and merciless. There is, indeed, no ideal the pursuit of which will not lead to disillusion; chagrin waits at the end for all who take this path. Every admirable ideal has its opposite, no less admirable. Liberty or order, justice or charity, spontaneity or deliberateness, principle or circumstance, self or others, these are the kinds of dilemma with which this form of the moral life is always confronting us, making us see double by directing us always to abstract extremes, none of which is wholly desirable. [Michael Oakeshott]

... each man hears and understands the promptings of some allegiances more clearly than others. As the ancient Greek well knew, to honor Artemis might entail the neglect of Aphrodite ... That there should be many such [moral] languages in the world, some perhaps with familial likenesses in terms of which there may be profitable exchange of expressions, is intrinsic to their character. This plurality cannot be resolved by being understood as so many contingent and regrettable divergences from a fancied perfect and universal language of moral intercourse (a law of God, a utilitarian ‘critical’ morality, or a so-called ‘rational morality’). But it is hardly surprising that such a resolution should have been attempted: human beings are apt to be disconcerted unless they feel themselves to be upheld by something more substantial than the emanations of their own contingent imaginations. This unresolved plurality teases the monistic yearnings of the muddled theorist, it vexes a moralist with ecumenical leanings, and it may disconcert [one who looks] ... for uncontaminated ‘rational’ principles out of which to make it. [Michael Oakeshott]

Pluralism without relativism,* then, seems like a compelling political attitude. It admits the multiplicity of ideas, beliefs, values, yet does not call them equivalent. But debate inevitably continues on the boundaries between pluralism and relativism. The best kind of politics strives to mitigate the tyranny of groups against groups but with room enough for them to pursue their own idiosyncratic ends. Even so, if some values in a plural society prove incompatible (e.g., theocratic vs. secular, fascist vs. egalitarian), tragedy may become unavoidable. History warns against radical social experiments: better the change and progress attained via local negotiation, awareness, and activism. Sociopolitical change is best when organic—rising from the bottom rather than imposed from the top—the odds of assimilation improve dramatically. Representative rule, transparent and accountable, backed by law enforcement and a judiciary, i.e., democracy, may well be the least imperfect political system for modern, plural societies. Yet, can it be imported and made to flourish in not yet fertile terrain?

Can any of these be a primary end: liberty, equality, justice? All three cannot be realized in full measure simultaneously. In practice, ‘people who want to govern themselves must choose how much liberty, equality, and justice they seek and how much they can let go. The price of a free society is that sometimes, perhaps often, we make bad choices.’ Choice in a free society is inherently tragic—not all desirable virtues can coexist in full measure. Take choices in the economic realm for instance. We now widely approve of (economic) inequality to better accommodate current notions of liberty and justice.

(Note: This is a slightly modified excerpt from an essay I wrote many years ago.)

Comments

[bhattathiri]

Your website is beautiful, informative and Excellent..

Daily life can be made happier. It is a matter of choice. It is our attitude that makes us feel happy or unhappy. It is true, we meet all kinds of situations during the day, and some of them may not be conductive to happiness. We can choose to keep thinking about the unhappy events, and we can choose to refuse to think about them, and instead, relish the happy moments. All of us constantly go through various situations and circumstances, but we do not have to let them influence our reactions and feelings.

by Swami Vivekananda
12 Friday Swami Vivekananda’s Actual 144th Birthday

[Ruchira Paul]

Ah, the elusive middle path! The hardest of all our quests.

Sociopolitical change is best when organic—rising from the bottom rather than imposed from the top—the odds of assimilation improve dramatically.

True in the ideal / simpler circumstances. The Panchayat, tribal laws, the culture of Nyaya. These afford a system of give and take which have a way of working towards solutions which are acceptable to all members. They all operate well within relatively homogeneous societies where the aspirations of the group are to a large extent uniform. The problem begins when society becomes more complex and increased centrifugal forces of individuals and group politics start to operate.

Historically, in such instances, enlightenment tends to come from the top down - not necessarily with undesirable results. The conversion of the king, the elite and the powerful, often have changed societies for the good.

As for the tug of war between enlightenment and romanticism, there too the choice is not as stark and exclusive as we fear. I think the human brain is capable of wearing many hats (think Leonardo da Vinci, the most brilliant of multiple hat wearers). I posted a link at my own site today which asks a similar either/ or question.

It is funny that while the pursuit of the ideal consumes most social debates, some find unusual happiness by just being wholesome and second best. :-)

[Shunya (Namit)]

It is true that the impetus for social change often comes from above or without. But for such change to be assimilated well, it has to then resonate at the bottom, catch fire with the masses. Otherwise, what we'll likely have is a caricature. A lot of folks have studied internally/externally inspired social change in the context of democracy. When imported, it is known to take root in some places, and not at all (or partially) elsewhere. Ultimately, the conditions for its success have to come from within and broadly so (even though the impetus may be from above).

This is how we also develop as individual humans. As teens, say, we respond to fads, peer pressure, role models, or fear of the stick from a parent or teacher, but unless we see the worth of an idea clearly and consciously, we won’t embrace it for the right reasons and won’t be at peace with ourselves.

I'm not saying that change driven from above is always undesirable or harmful (though it pays rather well to be skeptical of social engineering). I am saying that when social change is driven from above, the odds of assimilation are worse than if that change had been organic to begin with. The point in my post is about the odds of assimilation (which, I submit, remains true for complex societies too).

The choice between the ideals of Enlightenment and Romanticism need not be stark at all, as I said myself (“tread the middle ground”). However, in real world sociopolitics, people have chosen quite starkly and exculsively, as I noted too (Stalinism on one end, the Third Reich or the other).