We must recognize the historical nature of the ideologies that structure us but belong entirely to their time, in the sense that they very quickly become outdated in subsequent periods. It is good to spell out the obvious truths that we acted on without thinking at the time, and there is no one better than Kojève to formulate the implacable logic behind them, the falsity of which we can now fully appreciate. It is useful to quote some excerpts to show how convincing they seem at first glance. Here, Kojève rigorously exposes the entire revolutionary mythology of the Stalinist era, which seems so appalling to us today. Once again, we see an illustration of an excess of logic unrelated to the facts, of an idealism that ignores reality despite its professed materialism—something that, nevertheless, we may have naively shared.
It is therefore not out of pure erudition that we criticize the first part of Kojève's great failed work, Sophia (the unfinished 800-page manuscript of which was only recently found and has just been published). It is precisely in order to return to the illusion of the realization of philosophy (in Stalinist communism) and of a definitive absolute knowledge, which has been disproved time and again by the court of history, which systematically revives the historical and cognitive dialectic. Above all, it is important to note that claiming this absolute knowledge and a closed history, now free of all dialectics (and therefore of all opposition), can only lead to totalitarian terror (Stalinist) and a return to the same excesses as the French Revolution—which Hegel denounced very precisely—hence the importance of maintaining dialectical thinking and abandoning the dream of a total victory for our utopias and convictions, which are too one-sided to be true.
Historical context
The title "Sophia" is borrowed from the Russian religious philosopher Vladimir Soloviev, nicknamed the "Conscience of Russia," a thinker of his particular historical destiny, heroic and messianic, aspiring to a better, united, ideal (orthodox, Russified) humanity that would finally bring about the triumph of the slaves. In 1926, Kojève wrote his thesis on Soloviev under the supervision of Karl Jaspers, focusing on the contradiction between theism and human freedom. His interest in this religious philosopher, who was virtually unknown in the West, seemed anecdotal, which is not at all the case, even if he gave an atheistic interpretation (as he did of Hegelianism), an orientation evidenced by his 1931 manuscript on atheism. It was also this atheism of the god-man that he defended in the Religious Sciences Section of the École Pratique des Hautes Études, first with a study seminar on modern Russian religious philosophy in 1933, then, in quick succession, the famous lectures of 1933-1939, which were published in 1947 by Raymond Queneau under the title Introduction à la lecture de Hegel (Introduction to the Reading of Hegel), but which were originally intended to be devoted simply to "Hegel's Religious Philosophy." This is a subject he would go on to explore at length in a commentary on The Phenomenology of Spirit, which left its mark on an entire generation with its highly controversial Heideggerian-Marxist interpretation—overestimating the role of (mortal) struggle and work, but very much in keeping with the spirit of the times.
It was just after his seminar, which had reached the end of Phenomenology, devoted precisely to the absolute knowledge of the wise, that Kojève began writing Sophia. Its writing in 1940, prompted by the French capitulation but at the time of the German-Soviet pact (1939-1941), was preceded by a letter to Stalin, which he only developed further. At that time, it was possible to believe in the definitive victory of either communism or Nazism before their collapse (much later for communism), but the book, written in Russian, took the side of the Stalinist Soviet system and considered its victory assured, viewing it as the ideal state. Its subtitle specifies "A dialectical introduction to philosophy, based on Hegel's 'Phenomenology' interpreted in the light of Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism."
Marxism
Let's say right away that the Marxism claimed here is far too idealistic and moralistic, its materialism being reduced—which is certainly not insignificant—to the social conditions of collective self-awareness and universal recognition, but without any link to a system of production linked to the level of technology as in historical materialism. The concrete analysis of Capital is replaced by self-conscious scientific planning that completes economic rationalization without encountering any real obstacles. However, this is precisely what does not work (or works poorly) in a context of imperfect information, and proves, in hindsight, the limits of voluntarism and plans that must be constantly corrected, Hegel comparing the economy in the Jena Fragments to "natural elements that rage blindly and, like a wild animal, demand to be guided and tamed relentlessly and rigorously." It must be said that the crisis of 1929 seemed to have buried liberalism before it proved its productive superiority, which would lead to the collapse of collectivism 60 years later...
However, it is the actual social conditions that matter, but these do not depend on morality and only on their material effectiveness, their positive or negative economic effect (for production and reproduction). Moreover, while a material basis and social relations that make self-awareness possible are necessary, they are unfortunately not sufficient to give everyone access to it in a spirit of shared transparency. The unity of minds is also a widespread fantasy, but one that actually breeds division and intolerance. These utopias are nothing more than abstract ideas, too absolute. Thus, knowing that we are part of totalities—because there are several—does not imply that we can or must necessarily participate actively and share the same spirit, as Rousseau's general will would require. Perpetual democratic debates are not sustainable in the long run, and our affiliations or party spirit do little to promote clear-sightedness or critical thinking, but rather groupthink, cognitive bubbles, and mindless campism without any dialectic. In Kojève, as in most philosophers, we find a neglect of the narrative that gives meaning, as if it were neutral and did not cover reality with deceptive fictions. Only narrative gives consistency to a common world beyond immediate presence, except that there are several narratives, none of which is true but which are mutually exclusive.
It would not be so absurd, however, to make Marxism the culmination of absolute knowledge if it were reduced to the necessity of building the social conditions essential for accessing this absolute knowledge. At the end of Phenomenology, this is clearly defined as the awareness of one's determinations and limitations, as well as one's position in space and time. Kojève goes further by calling Sophia what would be full self-awareness, "total consciousness of oneself and the world" which goes beyond our capacities and limitations, but which Kojève identifies (p. 29) with the assertion of revolutionaries that they are conscious (aware of their exploitation and their belonging to the working class, the word "conscious" having taken on a pejorative meaning for Russians to refer to those who denounce class enemies). Being conscious would also mean speaking for oneself about oneself, which would be fine if it were verified by experience. The problem is that instead of a clear consciousness in touch with reality, the critical spirit that is claimed gives way to intolerant dogmatic propaganda (multiplying irreconcilable tendencies and small leftist factions). The truth is still not given but remains a subject, caught up in argumentative and polemical dialectics of competing narratives. We may well approve of reason's aspiration to universal law and a self-aware state, but in the transition from formal rights to real rights, it is quite another thing to claim its realization, which is not enough to give access to the truth or create the material conditions for it—as if we were indeed the masters of the world and truly at the end of history.
The end of history
It is well known that this question of the end of history and of complete knowledge obsessed Kojève throughout his life, a claim to wisdom rather than mere philosophy. For him, the question boils down to an alternative: either we believe that only God knows everything, or, if we are atheists (like Spinoza!), we must convince ourselves that Man has access to wisdom and absolute knowledge (Spinoza's third kind of knowledge, which is the thought of God). And of course, this is not abstract absolute knowledge, but knowledge to which Hegel gives a precise (and valuable) content, which is precisely the overcoming of religion through the history of humanity (or rather of the Spirit and the progress of cognitive dialectics), but also the construction of a universal and homogeneous state ensuring individual freedom and universal recognition of all (not subjective sovereignty), a process that is ongoing but far from complete, still experiencing the same painful historical upheavals.
Kojève cannot forget this in the midst of war, but imagines, like Hegel at the Battle of Jena, that he is living through the final act (the last of the last) opening onto a bright future. To repeat the trick, the only criticism he feels compelled to make of Hegel is that he believed in the end of history with the Napoleonic Code, whereas Hegel, if he had been able to access absolute knowledge individually, had remained within bourgeois ideology, as the material conditions did not allow the masses to do so. However, this is precisely what Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism set out to achieve through the reconciliation of the rational and the real in an effective praxis, that of conscious planning and integration, through rational discourse, into a political totality. This time, it was the right one, unbeatable!
Kojève's talent lies in giving the impression of the obviousness and simplicity of assured knowledge, whereas reading Hegel would have the opposite effect on me, with its excessive profusion that overwhelms the reader with the complexity of a reality logically connected by so many links that it discourages thought. However, what is grandiose and astonishing about him is his ability to integrate this multiplicity into an impressive encyclopedic unification that is not just postulated but can be said to be effective, even if one must dispute that it is complete and definitive. There is undoubtedly, from the outset in Hegel, a constant aspiration towards unity and final reconciliation, the only thing is that he does not admit that this unity can be immediate but only as the result of a division or opposition that has been overcome (negation of the negation). It is nevertheless most extraordinary and paradoxical to claim to ensure this final reflexive unity of thought and being on the basis of its initial division and dialectical negation throughout the course of history, a sleight of hand that is difficult to swallow, even as it makes it so appealing, and which Jacques Taminiaux denounces in his presentation of "The System of Ethical Life" (1802-1803): "Why is it that dialectical thought, a marvelous instrument for identifying contradictions, can only identify them by claiming to hold the ultimate secret of their abolition?"
In fact, in accordance with the retrospective nature of historical dialectics, we always find ourselves at the end of time by structure, with historical awareness coming after the fact, closing off the meaning up to that point and unable to know in advance where it will be contradicted next (radical exteriority of time). The dialectic of moral positions set out in the Phenomenology has always seemed to me essential (and too little known outside a few figures) for understanding the confusing nature of dialectics, which does not allow us the last word and clearly shows how initial good will is always contested and turned into its opposite. The judgment of history is always final on the actual reality of the claims made, and it is this new error that we must become aware of (the false is a moment of the true). This confrontation with the incalculable aftermath is indispensable for admitting the limits of our knowledge in the face of a truth that always transcends it and a temporality that corrects and reconstructs it retrospectively. Every synthesis of the past is incapable of imagining its beyond, of transcending its time before having undergone the aftermath that surprises and contradicts us, relaunching the dialectic.
This does not necessarily preclude absolute knowledge defined as knowledge about knowledge (as in Fichte) and the result of a dialectic without transcendence, ultimately leading to a departure from religion, but it does at least prevent us from dreaming of complete and definitive knowledge, as illustrated by scientific knowledge. It is not, in fact, reserved for certain people or for God; it is accessible to all (at the price of hard work), and we can follow Kant's injunction "sapere aude," dare to know instead of remaining in a state of minority and ignorance. But no matter how much this knowledge tries to form a system, it remains temporary, historical, and dated, just like our morality and ideologies, which are products of historical dialectics and material conditions, primarily the state of technology. Thus, digital technology could not be anticipated, either by Hegel or by Marx (even though he spoke of "general intelligence" as the main factor of production and saw work as "transformed above all into an activity of surveillance and regulation").
The revolutionary duty
Another important point to note is the moral interpretation of revolutionary aspiration linked by Kojève to Kantian moralism (which Marcel Conche would later echo: "Revolutionary discourse is nothing other than moral discourse itself in its political form"). It should be noted that Kant was greatly inspired by Rousseau, particularly in his assimilation of freedom with reason and moral duty: "Obedience to the law one has prescribed for oneself is freedom" (Book I, Chapter 8), which is very far from the freedom of libertines. However, Kojève does not refer to Rousseau, who limited himself to the social contract allowing for a free city, but to Kantian universalism, whose categorical imperative obliges man to reject any moral or political order that is not based on universal rational autonomy. If moral law is universal and unconditional, then the existing order that does not satisfy it is illegitimate. Kant, in fact, makes man a noumenal being, free and a moral legislator, whose duty of universalization unconditionally justifies revolutionary action leading to a reconciled, completed, and objectively accomplished History. Practical reason demands a radical transformation of society in order to bring it into line with universal moral autonomy. But this brings us back to the figures of the Beautiful Soul and the Law of the Heart, which we thought we had left behind, ignoring the indispensable mediations. The refusal of any compromise with the unjust order is nothing more than a refusal of dialectics.
However, if morality was indeed invoked by the revolutionaries themselves, caught up in the whirlwind of the Terror, this moral conception of politics and individual action is not at all that of Hegel, who minimizes the role of the individual and his action, which is subject to passions and dialectical reversals, leading to universality only through the "cunning of reason" imposed on controversies and not through our strength of mind. Above all, attributing revolutionary duty to Kant erases the entire genealogy of morality described by Hegel, in which abstract universalism is only a transitional stage. There is indeed an articulation between morality and politics, but it passes through numerous dialectical mediations. First, morality is more a matter of an "I that is a we," of socialization, citizenship, reciprocity, and the desire for recognition (belonging, honor, reputation), not of a universalism criticized, on the contrary, as empty and inefficient formalism. If there is indeed a transition from morality to politics in Phenomenology, it is because only politics can make morality effective in institutions, politics which is not simply the application of morality but which again engages in a much more complex historical dialectic guided by external causalities rather than by the good intentions of the beautiful soul. Therefore, if it is indeed morality that leads to politics, it is not the categorical imperative and Kantian morality in its universality that prevails, but an effective political dialectic in which revolution is only a transitional moment that must be overcome (Terror/Empire). The justification of a concrete revolution, which lies entirely in its success and the possibilities of the historical moment, cannot be reduced to a moral requirement (which does not lead to results) or an ideal, but to the material conditions that enable and impose it.
To make universality depend on our moralism, our good will, and our subjectivity is to expose it to confiscation by other subjectivities, other values. If "the form of thought is the universal, the abstract in general, and insofar as it is activity, thinking is the active universal, the universal that acts," (§20 p94), this does not mean that the universal is simple and non-contradictory. Thus Herder and Fichte were able to oppose Kant (and Catholicism) with the universal character of the particularity of peoples and languages. This is what justified the Nazis' commitment to their own people in the extermination of others, overcoming "pathological" sentimentality out of a sense of duty in the name of a cold, supposedly universal racist reason! For them, the national revolution was indeed a moral revolution.
Revolutionary heroism
Finally, Kojève has a romantic conception, undoubtedly very Russian (Dostoevsky, Soloviev), of the Stalinist revolutionary and his heroism in defying death, which echoes his Heideggerian interpretation of the dialectic of master and slave, which personalizes a historical process. For him, the risk of death is both proof of true humanity and a guarantee of revolutionary purity, a decisive lever for radically transforming the world order. This fanaticism is even what distinguishes the revolutionary from the reformer or ordinary activist: he does not fear death because he considers it a necessary and rational stage in history, a negative act necessary for collective reconstruction—a true rational religion (appreciated by all militarists). The conscious revolutionary rises above animality by fighting not only to survive or improve his living conditions, but to establish a new world—and he knows that this involves the real possibility of death. And certainly, here again, we can recognize a historical testimony of the Soviet state, whose “confessions” extorted from self-accusing Stalinist trials, which consented to their own assassination, remain exemplary, but this is neither Hegelian, nor Marxist, nor reasonable. Risking one's life is not a condition of revolutionary dignity; it is not proof, as illustrated by brainwashed jihadists and other fanatics. Ultimately, these narratives are simply about wanting to be part of a story where we can play the role of the hero of our childhood tales.
The “reasons for living” that we give ourselves are just as much reasons for dying, and we can revel in an awareness of death that allows us to detach ourselves from the given (in a purely fictional way), but despite all the commemorations, it is not death that gives value to existence, which is too random and devoid of any afterthought that would validate it; rather, it is its negation that makes us live. Nothing is produced by death, least of all history, but rather by the progress of civilization (cognitive—and therefore moral—and technical). The struggle to the death is only a primitive scene; what truly humanizes, according to Hegel (and Marx), is productive mediation and institutionalization. Everything else is literature. History is played out on a completely different stage than individual heroism when organizations, powers, and systems clash rather than individuals who must prove that they prefer freedom to mere survival in order not to be treated as subhuman. Kojève wanted to defend a heroic anthropology of history—that of the face-to-face encounter with death glorifying the Master at the expense of the worker who is actually transforming the world (although he makes the citizen the synthesis of the worker/soldier). — which prevents him from seeing how the impersonal (technical, economic, ecological, military) has become the real scene of historical transformations and tragedy. This heroization, which may be considered infantile, must be traced back to the desire for the Other and the desire for recognition, to the exaltation of identity and narcissistic self-narrative, rather than to the necessities of historical action or the progress of civilization and law.
DIALECTICAL INTRODUCTORY ESSAY
TO THE PHILOSOPHY
ON THE BASIS OF
HEGEL'S PHENOMENOLOGY
INTERPRETED IN THE LIGHT OF
MARXISM-LENINISM-STALINISM
PART ONE: Perfect knowledge or "wisdom" (Sophia) and philosophy as the aspiration for perfect knowledge
1. "Wisdom" as total self-knowledge
Kojève begins strongly with untenable assertions, identifying wisdom with being fully self-aware in accordance with the Socratic injunction "Know thyself" (p. 19), whereas for Socrates this knowledge is knowledge of the limits of our knowledge. He acknowledges this himself: "It would seem that Socrates already affirmed the inaccessibility of wisdom" (p. 25), which he equates with a theistic position. For Kojève, wisdom is defined by having an answer to everything, without receiving any extra-human help (no theological revelation, p. 22), which is not even Hegelian, since absolute knowledge is also awareness of the limits of our knowledge, its finitude. In any case, Socrates thought that omniscience was not only impossible but also deceptive. It is not emphasized enough that Socrates questions not so much ignorance as the fact of ignoring it and feeling obliged to give one's opinion on everything. Ultimately, the absurd is not so much the lack of meaning, which we hear so much about, but rather the excess of meaning in false knowledge and religious beliefs. In our time, it is no longer possible to define ourselves "by this phenomenon called articulate and meaningful discourse, that is, conversation or the exchange of questions and answers" (p. 19) when Google or ChatGPT are capable of answering all our questions! Let us note, in any case, that humans are no longer defined by their relationship to death, but by their questioning and self-awareness.
So what does this philosophical task of "knowing oneself" mean? At first glance, nothing very complicated or difficult. It does not mean simply living and acting in the world around us, but also being able to answer all the questions that may be asked of us and that we may ask ourselves about our lives and actions. In other words, philosophers do not seek merely to live and "enjoy life" (as any living being would tend to do), but strive to live "consciously," that is, to live in a way that no plant or animal could ever do. p19
Therefore, by aspiring not only to live, but also to live "consciously," that is, to live by asking questions about one's life and answering them to the best of one's ability, philosophers are not content with the life of a plant or an animal, but aspire to a human life. p20
Therefore, by aspiring not only to live, but also to live "consciously," that is, to live by asking questions about one's life and answering them to the best of one's ability, philosophers are not content with the life of a plant or an animal; they aspire to a human life. This is why, taking the word "philosophy" in a very broad sense, we can say that it is as old as humanity itself. It began when the "first" human being asked the first question about his life, and it will only end when living beings cease to ask questions about their lives or when we have found the answers to all possible questions of this kind. p20
In other words, the philosopher aspires to live not only according to his silent vital impulses (his "instincts"), but also under the guidance of this "rational" principle of human life, whose direct expression is found in articulate and meaningful speech (which the Greeks called "logos"), that is, in the maintenance or exchange of questions and answers. p20
The wisdom of atheism
Plato consciously introduced into his philosophy the concept of God as the "ultimate guarantee of truth" (an expression we encounter later in Descartes). p26
Spinoza, who recognized the accessibility of wisdom, denied the existence of God (although he talks about God on almost every page, deceiving no one but himself). p27
However, while it is in itself the only correct one, the atheistic assertion that wisdom is accessible is, in its individualistic variant, erroneous. In other words, if one maintains that wisdom must be attained by an isolated individual. p27
Socialism as self-awareness
This well-understood philosophical aspiration, aimed at knowing oneself, must inevitably lead (and has in fact led, in the person of Hegel) to the revolutionary and socialist demand (which is an ideal) for "consciousness." p30
It is enough for us—in order to embrace revolutionary socialism unfailingly—to know ourselves (that is, to know ourselves as we really are, in other words, to know our real interests). p34
We can assume that after resolving all the fundamental and technical difficulties relating to the economy, after definitively abolishing class struggle and therefore state-political life (in the usual sense of the term) and—if we wish—historical life (according to the pre-communist conception of it), then it is indeed this fundamental content of the existence of the communist man that will constitute this same "awareness," its consolidation, its broadening, and its deepening. p29-30
In truth, the goal of socialism and that of philosophy coincide. p35
Hegel appears on the one hand as the logical fulfillment of the ideal-and-historical process of the development of philosophy, but on the other hand he serves as the starting point for the active-and-historical process of progressively and consciously realizing communism. But this conception boils down, as we already know, to the following:
"Wisdom" (Sophia) is nothing other than full "self-awareness" or full consciousness of oneself, finding its expression in the fact that man can himself convincingly answer all the meaningful questions that can be asked of him or that he can ask himself concerning his life and actions in the spatial-temporal material world. p39
Since ethics presupposes collective, social, and state recognition, and since I consider my life to be ethical, then I am obliged to do everything in my power to change social and state conditions, at least as long as society and the state do not agree with the way I judge my own life. Consequently, instead of inactive ("passive") "conformism," we will have an "active" revolutionary spirit. p45
In other words, if socialism takes the path of action to achieve collective consciousness, philosophy seeks to achieve it by taking the individual path of inactive contemplation. p35
Indeed, one of Comrade Stalin's main merits—and perhaps his main theoretical merit—is to assert that it is possible to build socialism in a single country (and, moreover, the success of this active construction—led by Comrade Stalin—brilliantly confirms this assertion). p36
And, in fact, from the point of view of social democracy, the pursuit of socialism is as "infinite" as the infinite pursuit of "wisdom" for philosophers who have rejected its accessibility under real conditions. p37
The social democrats will soon leave the historical stage, hopefully never to return. p38
It is true that, from the point of view of Marxism-Leninism-Stalinism (which differs from Hegel's point of view), this ideal has not yet been achieved. "Wisdom" will only be achieved in communist society. Before that, even in a socialist society, it is only possible to strive towards it, in what appears simultaneously as an aspiration that is always collective, theoretical-cognitive, and finally practical-active. In other words, before communism, only philosophy in the strict and precise sense of the term is possible, but a philosophy that knows it will achieve its goal. p38
Hegel mistakenly believed that the socio-political ideal had already been achieved in his time (which is why he was able to consider himself not a philosopher but already a sage); whereas Marx—and after him Lenin and Stalin—knew that this ideal had not yet been achieved, even today. p39
If philosophy and wisdom are essentially a collective affair [...] personal recognition of one's own moral perfection is no longer appropriate and seems insufficient; what is necessary is collective, public and, ultimately, state recognition. p44
What are the socio-political conditions that make possible the wisdom to which every philosopher must aspire? These conditions are, as we know, fulfilled by the future communist society, which crowns and completes the historical process of human development and already exists as a real possibility ("in potential") in the form of the Communist Party. p46
Since this is the case, the duty of every person who sees communist society as their ideal is to devote all their energies to achieving this goal, which is logically necessary but factually possible only as the result of conscious and active effort. 47
Consequently, a philosopher worthy of the name must understand that he must act and struggle not only as a citizen and a communist, but also as a philosopher. And these are not two activities that happen to coincide in the same person, but two aspects of one and the same life. Comrade Stalin's activity is the most striking proof of this: not only does he always do what he says (as a communist), but he also always speaks about what he does (as a philosopher). p48
The fact that these philosophical arguments can unconsciously permeate even the minds of those furthest removed from philosophy argues for a subterranean influence of the history of philosophy in shaping history itself, or at least the ideologies that guide its actors. This places the blame for their errors on philosophers, even the most rational ones, who are far too confident in logical deductions, as Bacon (and the experimental sciences) already denounced. It is not certain that Artificial Intelligence will do any worse than the best human intelligence! What presents itself as pure emancipatory rationality turns out to be a total confiscation of truth by dogmatism and propaganda, with their accompanying massacres. This is an ironic illustration of the accuracy of Lacan's reply to the students at Vincennes: "As revolutionaries, you aspire to a master" (a beautiful soul imposing his will on everyone to "change the world").
There has been endless speculation about the cult of personality found in all collectivist "people's democracies," but it results from the impossibility of the integral democracy that is claimed and from the need to give revolutionary power the unity of will necessary to found a new state and centralize the economy. The icon of the "little father of the people" substitutes this idealized representation for the slogan it proclaims of giving "all power to the Soviets." Here, the important thing is to declare that one is taking "all power," whereas the multiplicity of assemblies would require liberal pluralism of free discussion, where the general will (democratic centralism) loses its unity—at least beyond the municipal level and a face-to-face democracy.
It may well be the constant nature of dialectics to overturn situations and produce a result contrary to that sought, one can be dismayed by the transformation of a project of absolute emancipation into the worst kind of totalitarian oppression (of both bodies and minds), something that the revolutionary Terror had already shown us, but which the neglect of dialectics, in the name of the completion of history, condemns to repetition through this kind of return to Kant and his "ideology of absolute freedom." (Intro to Hegel, p. 148). Expressions such as "conscious proletariat" (p. 29), calling for the revolutionary awareness of the masses, thus become pure propaganda. The final negation of dialectics is not a theoretical detail but has disastrous practical consequences that it is dismaying to see ignored by those who have detailed all its pitfalls—now relegated to a history that is over and no longer open to discussion, having become entirely satisfactory!
It must be emphasized that authentic universality is mediated: it is not given in advance, but produced by a dialectical process in which the particular and the singular are not canceled out but integrated. Certainly, great historical moments (the French Revolution, the abolition of slavery, the declaration of universal rights) embody the idea of universality in history, but they have had to contend with reality in order to make their mark, and often had to scale back their ambitions. We must not overestimate our means, which are not totalitarian, forcing us to admit the necessity of (social democratic) compromise instead of an abstract universal law. It remains essential to integrate dialectics and not regress into ideology, which is even more vital for an ecological mindset attentive to diversity and multiple interactions. The lesson to be learned from the collapse of our illusions is not discouragement and passivity, but the gradual construction of a rational constitutional state, if not a universal state (the UN), instead of authoritarian populist sovereignty, with the need to move away from unilateralism and make room for others (but without being able to avoid the transition to extremes or ruptures). There is never total victory (which rather heralds its downfall), which also means that, although they have been severely condemned by history and are well and truly over, we are not yet done with communism, any more than we are with fascism and dreams of revolutions or the absolute...
— Russians need to believe in something... Something dazzling, sublime. Empire and communism are ingrained in our bones. What makes us vibrate is heroism.
— Socialism forced people to live in history... to witness something grandiose...
— Damn it! We're mystics!
(S. Alexievitch, The End of the Red Man or the Time of Disenchantment, p. 242)
