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FORTIS, Tertium Datur
FORTIS, Tertium Datur
Beniamino Fortis
Beniamino Fortis Beniamino Fortis
Tertium Datur
In his essay Das neue Denken (1925), Franz Rosenzweig warns against the Tertium Datur
The Author
Beniamino Fortis holds a PhD in Philosophy. He studied in Venice, Florence,
and Berlin. His research interests are in picture theory, aesthetics, and
contemporary Jewish thought.
As a postdoctoral fellow he is currently leading a research group on the topic
“Bilderverbot and art theory”.
ISBN 978-3-631-80874-0
BAND 15
Beniamino FORTIS
TERTIUM DATUR
A Reading of Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Bibliographic Information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek
The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche
Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data is available in the
internet at http://dnb.d-nb.de.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
A CIP catalog record for this book has been applied for at the
Library of Congress.
ISSN 1862-801X
ISBN 978-3-631-80874-0 (Print)
E-ISBN 978-3-631-81973-9 (E-Book)
E-ISBN 978-3-631-81974-6 (EPUB)
E-ISBN 978-3-631-81975-3 (MOBI)
DOI 10.3726/b16852
Introduction ........................................................................................................ 11
In his essay Das neue Denken (1925), Franz Rosenzweig warns against the
“danger of understanding the new thinking in the sense, or rather the nonsense,
of ‘irrational’ tendencies such as, for example, the ‘philosophy of life.’ Everyone
clever enough to have steered clear of the jaws of the idealistic Charybdis seems
nowadays to be drawn into the dark whirlpool of this Scylla” (GS 3: 156). The
quote puts in a nutshell what this book sets itself to investigate thoroughly, that
is, the meaning and positioning of Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ in the context
of contemporary philosophy. More precisely, it will be shown how the Homeric
metaphor of a double danger provides the guidelines Rosenzweig seems to stick
to throughout the entire development of his thought—which, at every level,
takes shape as an alternative between two opposite philosophical positions that
have to be equally avoided: idealism and irrationalism.
Both terms are actually conceived in a broader meaning than the one related
to their actual historical manifestations. For Rosenzweig, idealism is not so much
a particular period in the history of philosophy, as a basic attitude of thought
lying at the roots of philosophy as such. Likewise, irrationalism is not only a
philosophical movement, historically set in the 19th and early 20th centuries, but
also—and more importantly—a general tendency opposite to idealism. In short,
whereas idealism aims at reducing reality to reason, pursuing the goal of a per-
fect agreement between them, from the point of view of irrationalism, reality is
by no means exhausted in the picture rationality can provide of it; rather, reality
also consists of dimensions that are ‘irrational,’ in the sense that they place them-
selves beyond—or even against—the structures of reason.
However, despite Rosenzweig—and this book too, after all—adopting a
mostly theoretical approach to idealism and irrationalism, it would not be cor-
rect to say that their historical scope is given no consideration at all. By ‘ide-
alism’ Rosenzweig means, of course, a theoretical thinking strategy, but he also
mentions the expression “from Ionia to Jena” (GS 2: 13), when referring to it.
That means that idealistic thought is also situated in a historical context, with its
origin in Parmenides’ philosophy (i.e. Ionia) and its conclusion in the Hegelian
system (i.e. Jena). Rosenzweig refers to irrationalism with the term ‘point of
view-philosophy,’ thus emphasizing its anti-absolutist character on a theoret-
ical level. Yet at the same time, he does not fail to provide historical coordinates
either, as he locates irrationalism’s origin in Kierkegaard’s anti-Hegelianism and
follows its evolution up to Nietzscheanism.
12 Introduction
1 The expression ‘Jewish contents of thought’ refers here to notions, concepts, and cat-
egories that belong to the Jewish tradition. Here are some examples, in no particular
order, of ‘Jewish contents’ that play a relevant role in Rosenzweig’s thought: (1) the
three notions of creation, revelation, and redemption; (2) the biblical texts illustrating
them, that is respectively, Bereshit 1, Shir ha-Shirim, and Psalm 115; (3) the cabbalistic
ideas of Zimzum and Tiqqun.
Introduction 13
one is also mirrored in a polarity between praxis and theory, where the Jewish
attitude is placed on the side of concrete praxis against abstract theory. It is in
this context, then, that Rosenzweig sees his goal in “leading knowledge back to a
knowledge of life […] and making” (ibid.).
A second text, Anleitung zum jüdischen Denken (1921), is also based on two
pairs of oppositions: concrete life is opposed to abstract thought and common
sense is presented as an antagonist of philosophy. In this view, only common
sense (der gesunde Menschenverstand), as a wealth of common knowledge and
experience, can be in contact with real life, while philosophy, developing in the
abstract realm of thought, is irremediably detached from concrete reality: “we rave
(irrereden) each time we rise to the heights of thought” (597)—says Rosenzweig.
However, “life does not feel good, as long as thought turns its back on it” (ibid.),
so that Rosenzweig’s goal does not consist in simply marking a gap between
opposite dimensions; rather, he aims at bridging it, making thought more con-
crete and thus achieving a “reconciliation between life and thought” (598).
It is at this juncture, then, that Jewish thought comes in. As the immediate,
praxis-based way of thinking that it is in Rosenzweig’s view, Jewish thought
positions itself in the double-pole framework here at issue, by opposing phi-
losophy and siding with common sense at the same time. Talking about Jewish
thinkers, for example, Rosenzweig says that a struggle takes place in them, in
which a Jewish way of thinking tries to overpower the philosophical one—
more often than not unsuccessfully (see ibid.). On the other hand, by having a
common enemy in the abstractive character of philosophy, common sense and
Jewish thought are not only seen as in agreement with each other, but, going a
step further, Rosenzweig reaches the point where the two notions are even con-
sidered to be the same, to be synonyms (see ibid. as well as Fabris 1993: 356 and
Baccarini 1993: 374–375).2
Another distinguishing trait of the Jewish way of thinking is its capability to
connect the notion of life with those of eternity and truth. In Der jüdische Mensch
(1920), Rosenzweig describes Jewish existence in terms of “polarity” (GS 3: 561)
2 That Rosenzweig sees Jewish thought (jüdisches Denken) and common sense (gesunder
Menschenverstand) as synonyms can be confirmed also by what he writes in a letter
to Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy (February 13, 1921). Talking about his lecture, in whose
title the expression ‘Jewish thought’ is mentioned (i.e. Anleitung zum jüdischen
Denken), Rosenzweig says: “Originally, I wanted to name it ‘Introduction to the use of
common sense.’ If I didn’t, it is only for contingent reasons” (GB: 732). The indiffer-
ence Rosenzweig seems to show towards the two titles can be a clue to his tendency to
merge Jewish thought and common sense into the same notion.
14 Introduction
3 Rosenzweig mentions: blind faith and subversive doubt; conservatism and revolution;
even capitalism and Bolshevism.
4 This contact with eternity, which according to Rosenzweig is a distinguishing trait
of the Jewish people, is acquired by renouncing any connection with those transient
elements other peoples usually rely on: “[…] everything other peoples’ existence was
rooted in has been taken away from us [Jews] long ago; land, language, custom, and
law—the sphere of our living has been deprived of them, and from being simply alive,
they have been elevated to being holy. However, we are still living and live eternally. Our
life is no longer interwoven with anything external, we have taken root in ourselves,
without roots in the earth, eternal wanderers therefore, yet deeply rooted in ourselves,
in our own body and blood. And it is this rooting in ourselves, and in ourselves alone,
that guarantees our eternity” (GS 2: 338–339).
5 Incidentally, this results in a correspondence and “reconciliation” (Versöhnung) (see
GS 3: 598) between life and thought—also typical of the Jewish way of thinking.
Introduction 15
strategies that lead to an excess of abstraction and emphasizes at the same time
the concrete nature of the ‘new thinking.’ Moreover, it is in that same crucial essay
that the Rosenzweigian conception of truth as ‘verification’ (Bewährung) finds
its most mature expression—thus testifying to truth still playing a central role in
Rosenzweig’s view. Irrespective of the particular shape the notion of truth takes
in the ‘new thinking,’6 the very fact that it still takes a shape, that is that it is not
completely discarded, is enough to distinguish the ‘new thinking’ from any form
of irrationalism.
To put it briefly, concreteness and truth can be taken as the keywords defining
Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking.’ Its concreteness opposes the first way of idealism,
while its consideration for the notion of truth represents a stand against the
second way of irrationalism. This double distancing from both forms of phi-
losophy is exactly what at the same time brings the ‘new thinking’ closer to
what Rosenzweig considers to be Jewish thought. The third way that the ‘new
thinking’ comes to represent can thus be seen as an oriented one: it leads away
from philosophy—from both of its branches—and toward Jewish thought. This
book adopts the idea of a thus conceived third way as a key to the interpreta-
tion of Rosenzweig’s position, which basically aims at going beyond the lim-
itations of philosophy—idealism or irrationalism—and getting closer to an
extra-philosophical tradition, such as the Jewish one.7
In conclusion, this book will show that a third-way-model can find appli-
cation at every level of Rosenzweig’s structured picture of reality. At its first
level, Rosenzweig’s account of the basic elements, the Urphänomene of God,
world, and human being, emerges as a combination of the idealist conception
and an irrational view—a combination, though, that is irreducible to each of
its components, and thus constitutes a third way between them. At the second
level of reality, each of the three paths of creation, revelation and redemption
turns out to be based on one central concept—‘relational otherness,’ ‘event,’ and
‘oriented praxis,’ respectively—which marks a radical break with both idealism
and irrationalism, while revealing its derivation from Jewish sources at the same
time. That means, once again, that Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ is not only a third
way between two philosophical stances, but it also takes shape as an approach to
Jewish thought.
Three Spheres. Three Epochs. Three Ways
One of philosophy’s most distinctive traits can be found in its tendency to go beyond
the level of empirical determinateness and reach that of a general principle able to
account for the origin and existence of all things. In this view, the philosophical
attitude par excellence takes shape as a ‘call to unity and universality,’ whose aim is
to lead all elements of reality back to a unique foundation, to convert them from
scattered elements into different aspects of the same totality, and to enable the con-
stitution of a form of knowledge about it. It is a path that leads out of a disordered
multiplicity to a well-organized, and thus knowable, universal unity.8 The whole
history of philosophy can be seen as an ongoing succession of ways of answering
that call, as each epoch is characterized by the specific principle it assumes as a
foundation and by the theoretical structures developed on that basis to conceptually
arrange reality.
The path leading from multiplicity to totality, however, is not a direct one, but
runs through some intermediate stages. Reality is at first divided into three main
spheres, corresponding to the three main kinds of phenomena: the divine, the
human, and the natural-worldly. As each sphere can only provide but a partial col-
lection, the last step towards final totality consists in their systematization into a
hierarchical relationship. Each epoch of the history of philosophy—antiquity, the
Middle Ages, and modernity—can be defined by the specific sphere it places at the
top of that hierarchy. More precisely, ancient Greek philosophy is characterized by
the primacy it gives to the natural-worldly dimension of reality; medieval philos-
ophy has its focus on the divine dimension; while modern philosophy hinges on the
notion of subject and the distinctly human dimension it is rooted in.
The ‘call to unity and universality’ philosophy is based on as well as the asso-
ciated series of correspondences between spheres of reality and philosophical
epochs are also salient points in Rosenzweig’s conception. He writes: “[There
are] three epochs of European philosophy—cosmological antiquity, the theolog-
ical Middle Ages, and our anthropological modern era. In particular, the favorite
idea of modernity [is] the ‘grounding’ of world and God experience in the ‘I’ that
has that experience” (GS 3: 143).9 Given three spheres of reality and considering
8 In this context the expression ‘universal unity’ and the word ‘totality’ can be considered
synonyms.
9 The same conception also emerges in a letter sent to Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy
on January 4, 1919, in which Rosenzweig writes: “[…] philosophy has always had
18 Three Spheres. Three Epochs. Three Ways
the philosophical process of leading each time two of them back to the third
one, philosophy develops for Rosenzweig by realizing every possible combina-
tory relationship between them. That is to say, it develops through the succession
of three triads: (1) antiquity-nature (world)-cosmology; (2) Middle Ages-God-
theology; (3) modernity-human being-anthropology.
Antiquity
In its attempt to explain and systematize reality, ancient Greek philosophy takes
the ‘ordered world’ or ‘cosmos’ (kosmos, κόσμος) as a key concept. This bears wit-
ness to early thinkers’ efforts to give an account of the All (to holon, τὸ ὄλον), and
to their ability to do that by relying solely on the sphere of the natural-worldly,
without exceeding it, and with no need to resort to the divine or to the human
spheres for an exhaustive view. In fact, kosmos is already in itself the most com-
prehensive concept for philosophically approaching reality and, despite having
its roots in the natural-worldly, it also includes and thoroughly accounts for the
other two spheres. These, however, are put into a subordinate position, because,
as particular aspects included in the kosmos, they are necessarily relegated to a
lower grade of universality: close to ‘the ultimate universality,’ but not enough to
be universal themselves.
A fragment by Heraclitus can clarify this point: “The cosmos, the same for
all, not god or man-made, but it always was, is, and will be, an ever-living fire,
being kindled in measures and being extinguished in measures” (DK 22: B30).
This very dense passage points out all the distinguishing features of the Greek
notion of kosmos, which is: (1) universal and all-embracing (“the same for all”);
(2) independent of the divine as well as of the human (“not god or man-made”);
(3) eternal, as it continues through past, present, and future (“it always was, is
and will be”); (4) structured and ordered, as it complies with a principle of regu-
larity (“in measures”). For the ancient Greek forma mentis, then, kosmos means
basically an eternal order, which, being eternal, shows a divine character (to
a dominating concept (einen herrschenden Begriff), the Greeks [had] the being, the
Scholastics God, modernity the reason, and today the life” (GB: 212). Not only the
three main philosophical epochs are mentioned in this quote, but a fourth period is
also considered, which represents the time Rosenzweig himself is living in. This is,
more precisely, the time of post-Hegelian philosophy, characterized by the notion of
‘life’ as its basic principle.
Middle Ages 19
Middle Ages
The Middle Ages represent a turning point in the history of Western philos-
ophy, as the relations of power between different spheres change radically in this
epoch. The concern to merge revealed doctrine and secular knowledge, typical
of medieval philosophy, leads it to give preeminence to the sphere of the divine.
Consequently, the other two spheres, that is the natural-worldly and the human,
must be subordinate to the divine. Not that philosophers in antiquity neglected
the divine—indeed, it was extensively treated in texts by Plato, Aristotle, or the
Stoics—but what comes to the fore in the Middle Ages is an utterly new way of
conceiving it. While Greek philosophers saw the divine as a feature intrinsic to
the ordered world, the medieval ones switch the focus from an impersonal no-
tion of God, as the ancient one was, to the idea of a personal God, who is wholly
other than the world and, as such, transcends it.
It is precisely the notion of transcendence, then, that marks the difference
between the ancient and the medieval conceptions. As long as the divine is
thought to be inside the kosmos, it is subordinate to the natural as one of its
dimensions, but once it is thought of in terms of a transcendent being—as it is
in the Middle Ages, following revelation—the divine exceeds the natural and
detaches itself from it. In this view, the natural—together with all related concepts
that fall within its sphere of influence, such as ‘cosmos’ or ‘world’—is regarded
as God’s creation and, therefore, as fully dependent upon its creator to come into
being and existence. Likewise, the sphere of the human—as well as the several
notions that, in various capacities, prevail in it, like ‘soul,’ ‘self,’ or ‘reason’—turns
out to be subordinate to God too, as human beings are seen as creatures of God,
made in his image and likeness, and as receivers of his revelation.
10 Another fragment by Heraclitus reads: “Listening not to me but to the logos, it is wise
to acknowledge that all things are one” (DK 22: B50). Truth is not a subjective dimen-
sion, in this view (“not to me…”); rather, it is universal and non-anthropocentric (“…
but to the logos”).
20 Three Spheres. Three Epochs. Three Ways
Modernity
Philosophical modernity is universally considered to be molded by the so-called
‘subjectivist paradigm,’ that is a model of reasoning based on a primacy given
to the sentient and thinking activity of the human ‘I.’ This corresponds to the
third phase of the process reconstructed thus far: after the ancient kosmos
(sphere of the natural) and the medieval God (sphere of the divine), it is now
the subject (sphere of the human) that acts as a foundation for the whole of
reality. Despite the many changes it has gone through in the period of time from
Descartes to Hegel—that is, the two thinkers, who ideally open and close philo-
sophical modernity—the notion of subject has always maintained some perma-
nent traits: its self-sufficiency, its character of having a ‘privileged point of view’
on reality and of being the ‘mandatory commencement’ of any inquiry into the
spheres of the natural-worldly or the divine.
This new precedence of the subject is the very core of Descartes’ philosophy,
which is conventionally thought to mark the beginning of the modern way of
philosophizing. For Descartes, thinking (in Latin, cogito) is the first principle
everything else is based upon. Rooted in the sphere of the human as the essential
activity of the subject, the cogito provides the fundamentum inconcussum (solid
foundation) to start from for giving an account of reality. But if the sphere of the
human, through the notion of cogito, constitutes such a foundation, then the
other two spheres are consequently put into a secondary position: any knowl-
edge of God, as imperfect it may be, has its roots in the human subject; and the
sphere of the natural-worldly, which Descartes calls res extensa, is a dimension
whose knowledge must be gained, once again, by starting from the certainty of
the subject, from the res cogitans.
As for God, his ‘subordination’ to the human sphere is not to be regarded
as a strong ontological one—God is still the creator of world and humankind,
even for Descartes. This means that it is not God himself, but rather his role that
is dramatically diminished in Descartes’ view of reality, as the divine turns out
to play but a marginal part in it. A thinker like Blaise Pascal, for instance, with
his radical anti-Cartesian approach, gets the point of this diminution, when he
writes: “I cannot forgive Descartes: in his whole philosophy he would like to do
without God; but he could not help allowing him a flick of the fingers to set the
world in motion; after that he had no more use for God” (Pascal 1670: n. 194/77).
What Pascal describes is the core of Descartes’ thinking strategy, which consists
in reducing God’s role to the bare minimum and thus letting the human subject
predominate.
The ontological argument—which Descartes borrows from Anselm of
Canterbury12—can also be considered part of the same strategy, thus confirming
the general subjectivism of modernity. Providing reasons why God must exist,
the argument is basically a way of conceiving God—or his existence, at least—by
means of subjective thought. In other words, the subject is the starting point, the
foundation, while God is merely an object of reasoning. But a God that can be
proven, that lets himself be proven, loses for this very reason his transcendence
and becomes a God ‘on a human scale’, so to speak. As an object of thought, God
becomes something ‘of the competence of ’ the subject and it is probably at this
juncture that, as Rosenzweig says, the sphere of the divine comes to be grounded
in the sphere of the human, in the ‘I’ that thinks of God.
Similar dynamics also characterize the relationship between the human
and the natural-worldly, that is between the res cogitans and the res extensa, in
Descartes’ terminology. In his effort to connect these radically heterogeneous
dimensions, Descartes takes the sphere of the human as the theoretical foun-
dation; but from there, he never gets into a position from where he can account
for the natural-worldly as an independent sphere. Basically, an external reality
cannot be reached, as the internal one cannot be exited, and the existence of an
objective world outside of the subject is something about which Cartesian doubt
cannot be definitively removed. Any knowledge of the world that is acquired by
taking the human subject as a starting point cannot account for the independence
of outside reality. All it can show is rather reality as it is for a subject—that is, the
sphere of the natural-worldly as subordinate to that of the human.
Reduction
Modernity, then, is the epoch that affirms the primacy of the human—just as
antiquity affirmed that of the natural-worldly, and the Middle Ages that of the
divine. However, despite the different sphere each epoch privileged, a common
strategy can be detected working in the backgrounds of all the cases consid-
ered: (1) reality is at first divided into three spheres; (2) one of them is elected as
the main sphere in each epoch, that is as the fundamental principle the whole
of reality hinges on; (3) finally, the other two spheres are consequently put into
a secondary position and their meaning is made dependent on the main sphere.
In antiquity, the divine and the human are dependent on the natural-worldly, as
they are included in it. In the Middle Ages, the natural-worldly and the human
of faith over reason, that is of the sphere of the divine over that of the human: neque
enim quæro intelligere ut credam sed credo ut intelligam (I do not try to understand in
order to believe; rather, I believe in order to understand) (see Anselm of Canterbury,
Proslogion, I).
Reduction 23
are dependent on the divine, as they are created by God. In modernity, the divine
and the natural-worldly are dependent on the human subject that thinks of them.
The idea that philosophy’s scope is divided into three main branches has a
long tradition. As a de facto feature, a three-branch structure is already observ-
able in the very origins of philosophical thought, but it was probably explicitly
thematized for the first time only in Christian Wolff ’s Philosophia rationalis,
sive Logica (1728), where he writes: “The beings we know are God, human soul
and bodies or material things” (§ 55). “Therefore, three parts of philosophy
develop: one dealing with God, another one with the human soul and the third
one with bodies or material things” (§ 56). In more recent times, one of the most
in-depth analyses of these themes and dynamics has been carried out by Franz
Rosenzweig, who, on the one hand, espouses the tripartite model, but, on the
other hand, reveals also the theoretical presuppositions and, in particular, the
process of ‘reduction’ which that model has always been based upon.
By ‘reduction’ a process is meant that consists in conceptually ‘leading a thing
back’ (Zurückführung) to another. Rosenzweig considers it the very basis of phil-
osophical thinking, which constantly aims at reducing every element of reality to
the primary principle adopted in each epoch. What this way of thinking illegiti-
mately presupposes, however, is a radical difference between the superficial level
of what a thing simply appears to be and the deeper, allegedly more authentic
level of what that same thing actually is—as if every element of reality were for
some reason not allowed to be just what it is, but were rather forced to be actually
something else. In this view, the authentic being of a thing is always supposed to
consist in something different from its immediate being, that is, in something the
thing has to be reduced to through a displacing movement of thought, in order
for its truth to be obtained.
Rosenzweig says: “The world, by no means, may be world; God by no means
God; human being by no means human being; but all these must ‘actually’ be
something quite different. […]. The possibilities of ‘reducing’ some given one to
its given other are tirelessly realized through the permutations, which, broadly
speaking, characterize the three epochs of European philosophy […]. This
philosophy considers reduction overall as something so self-evident that if it
troubles itself to burn a heretic, it prosecuted him only because [he is guilty] of
a forbidden kind of reduction […]. That someone may be not interested at all in
[performing reductions], well, this is not even taken into account” (GS 3: 143).
In philosophy, there is nothing more natural than reduction. It is obvious, taken
for granted—to the point that the distinguishing factor among different epochs
lies only in the particular form reduction takes on in each of them.
24 Three Spheres. Three Epochs. Three Ways
13 Once again, a feature of Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ emerges in this quote: the oppo-
sition between philosophy and common sense. This conflict then turns into a three-
term relationship, when Jewish thought comes in, thereby showing a close affinity with
common sense as well as an anti-philosophical slant.
14 This is what Rosenzweig calls the “altering power of the little word ‘is’ ” (GS 3: 144).
Three Ways 25
philosophy has always been supposed to account for reality, providing a veri-
table, faithful depiction of it, but the best it can achieve through the reduction-
based way of thinking it has always pursued is merely an abstraction of reality.
This gap between the goal of an authentic account of reality and the result of a
mere abstraction emerges clearly in the following passage: “We know in the most
exact way, with the intuitive knowledge of experience, what God, what man, what
the world ‘is’ […]. And we certainly do not know this in the insidious, altering way
through which thought usually knows (mit dem hintertückischen, ‘verändernden’
Wissen des Denkens)” (GS 3: 145). Rosenzweig summarizes the whole problem
in a single contrast: that between the intuitive, veritable knowledge of experi-
ence and the underhanded, misleading knowledge of (philosophical) thinking.
Developing this view, it can be argued that the distorted description of reality
philosophy provides is the consequence of the main dynamics governing it from
its very beginning, that is, dynamics that aim at overcoming divisions in reality,
by way of hierarchization and reduction.
These notions, finally, hint at the fact that the philosophical method consists
in approaching the three spheres reality can be divided into—the divine, the
human, and the natural-worldly—by arranging them into a conceptual hier-
archy and subjecting them to a reduction process. As a result, a picture of reality
emerges which is always viewed through the lens of abstract thought and is thus
irreparably detached from real experience. By adopting hierarchization and
reduction as its primary strategies, philosophy may be able to give an account for
what can be called ‘thought reality,’ but the concretely experienced reality—the
‘real reality,’ so to speak—will always remain out of its reach.
Three Ways
The thinking strategies philosophy has adopted in the course of its whole his-
tory are all the more evident in what represents, in Rosenzweig’s view, the peak
of that history, that is, Hegel’s philosophy. Hegel develops a systematic concep-
tion with the declared aim of reconciling those divisions and splits that philo-
sophical modernity has produced in the way reality is viewed. In so doing,
however, he enacts the typical philosophical procedures of hierarchization and
reduction, which make his theory a hierarchy-based and all-embracing system.
On the other hand, a thinker like Nietzsche embodies a radically anti-systematic
and, in this sense, anti-Hegelian15 approach. Nietzscheanism is a philosophical
15 Reading Nietzsche as the ‘Anti-Hegel’ is not unusual, but the thinkers that, more than
any other, emphasize the Hegel-Nietzsche opposition are probably Karl Löwith and
26 Three Spheres. Three Epochs. Three Ways
Gilles Deleuze. The former sees Hegel and Nietzsche as the beginning and the end of
a decisive period in German philosophy: they “are the two extremes, between which
the authentic history of German spirit in the 19th century develops” (Löwith 1941: 7).
Deleuze emphasizes a radical contrast between Nietzsche’s thought and Hegelian dia-
lectic: “Nietzsche’s ‘yes’ is opposed to the dialectical ‘no;’ affirmation to dialectical
negation; difference to dialectical contradiction; joy, enjoyment to dialectical labor;
lightness, dance, to dialectical responsibilities” (Deleuze 1962: 10).
16 Despite rejecting hierarchization and reduction, Nietzscheanism is still a philosophical
position, but the kind of philosophy it represents is not the old one any more— that
is not the ‘from Ionia to Jena’-philosophy. Rather, Nietzsche’s thought is the most
advanced position of what Rosenzweig calls new philosophy— that is the ‘point of
view’-philosophy, which develops from Kierkegaard to Nietzsche.
17 The subtitle of Nietzsche’s work Götzen-Dämmerung (KGA 6.3) is wie man mit dem
Hammer philosophiert.
Three Ways 27
revolutionize the sphere of the human. The sentence “God is dead” (see KGA 5.2
and 6.1), finally, addresses the dissolution of the sphere of the divine.
True to philosophy’s claim for universality, Hegel sees divisions in reality as
typical of a still immature level of knowledge which therefore has to be over-
come. More precisely, divisions have to be abolished and conserved at the same
time (aufgehoben), by making thought reach a highly advanced, absolute level
of knowledge that, by means of hierarchization and reduction, is able to offer an
undivided, unitary picture of reality. Division is the main problem for Hegel,
while reductions and hierarchies are the solutions. Nietzsche, as expected from
the ‘Anti-Hegel,’ maintains exactly the contrary. His reflections are driven by
a strong commitment to unmasking18 precisely those mechanisms that are at
work under the surface of philosophical thinking. It is arguable, however, that
Nietzsche’s critique goes too far, as its destructive approach not only addresses
reduction processes and hierarchical thought, but also extends to other notions
like ‘truth,’ ‘reason,’ or ‘knowledge,’ which, from a Rosenzweigian point of view,
should be radically rethought, but not rejected.
Rosenzweig, then, positions himself between Hegel and Nietzsche, by devel-
oping his ‘new thinking’ in a direction that constitutes a third way between the
Hegelian and the Nietzschean approaches. The key concept for Rosenzweig is the
notion of ‘relation.’ More precisely, he sees reality as a complex of relational fluxes
between the divine, the natural-worldly, and the human. On the one hand, such a
view allows divisions to be overcome, because relations act as connecting factors
between the spheres. On the other hand, the kind of connection thus enabled is
completely alien to such strategies as hierarchization and reduction. Every rela-
tion, in other words, preserves a fundamental equality between the elements it
connects, avoiding at the same time any possible process of reduction. Relations
connect, without establishing hierarchies and without leading elements back to
one another.
A relational approach, however, would not be able to rectify what Rosenzweig
regards as the ‘congenital defects’ of philosophy, if it were to continue to stick to
the same forma mentis that has caused them. It is therefore necessary to integrate
philosophical reasoning with an utterly different way of thinking, which is able
18 It is this attitude that makes Nietzsche one of the three so-called ‘masters of suspicion,’
together with Marx and Freud. According to Paul Ricœur, who is the first to men-
tion this expression, in his work De l’interprétation. Essai sur Freud (1965: 40 ff.), the
‘hermeneutics of suspicion’ consists in demystifying implicit attitudes and illusions of
thought.
28 Three Spheres. Three Epochs. Three Ways
to avoid the impasses philosophy has become entangled in while at the same
time opening new perspectives on how reality in general can be conceived of. For
Rosenzweig, this extra-philosophical—maybe even anti-philosophical—way of
thinking is the Jewish one.
The First Way: Hegel
19 It is well known that Plato considers the physical world a mere copy of the ideal one.
30 The First Way: Hegel
main polemical target, precisely because it is typical of this approach that it tends
to divide reality into irreconcilable dimensions. Ontological division has always
affected philosophy, but in modernity it becomes acute.
Conceiving of subjectivity as prime principle leads modern philosophy to
depict reality in terms of a split: everything concerning the subject is in oppo-
sition to anything that has a non-subjective character. Thought, as something
subjective, opposes being, as something objective. Hegel says: “The concrete
form of thought which we have here to consider […] really appears as subjective
[…], so that this has an antithesis in existence […]; and the interest is then alto-
gether found in grasping the reconciliation of this opposition […] This highest
severance is the opposition between thought and being, the comprehending of
whose unity from this time forward constitutes the interest of all philosophies”
(W 20: 63–64). However, none of the different philosophical views developed in
the modern age is able to understand thought and being in their unity; none of
them succeeds in conceiving of reality as a whole.
20 It must be pointed out that ‘subject’ and ‘thought’ are used as synonyms only in rela-
tion to other modern philosophers, and thus in a critical perspective. A division-based
view of reality, in which the domain of ‘thought’ is separated from the field of ‘being,’
just as subjectivity is divided from anything non-subjective, is precisely what Hegel
intends to overcome. One of the key points of his argumentation consists in reshaping
the notions here at issue. In the Hegelian version of idealism, ‘thought’ and ‘subject’
are not synonyms anymore, as ‘thought’ is equated to ‘being,’ while ‘subject’ represents
only one dimension of the ‘thought-being-unity’—to wit, only its reflective dimension.
Two Attitudes of Thought 31
divided into thought and being, what does not fall within the dimension of
thought, falls necessarily within that of being, and vice versa.21
In the Enzyklopädie Hegel depicts modernity as characterized by two phil-
osophical stances, or in other words, two different ways of dealing with the
thought-being relationship.22 Descartes, Spinoza, and Leibniz share the first atti-
tude of thought to objectivity (W 8: §§ 26–36, 93–106), which upholds a perfect
conformity between internal subjective thought and external objective being,
and finds in reflection the keystone for this correspondence: “The first of these
attitudes of thought […] entertains an unquestioning belief that reflection is the
means of ascertaining the truth, and of bringing the objects before the mind as
they really are.” (93). Merely the very use of the term ‘belief ’ speaks volumes of
the naivety Hegel ascribes to this conception. Thought is seen as perfectly trans-
parent and able to reflect objects without distortion, but the existence of those
objects outside of thought turns out to be something which has been surrepti-
tiously presupposed and not rationally founded.
To define this conception Hegel uses the adjective ‘abstract’ in a pejorative
sense. In his terminology, ‘abstract’ means ‘isolated from a context,’ and, more
precisely, ‘sundered from the systematic whole.’ Now, considering that for Hegel
the whole is the only possible and proper form of truth, anything abstracted from
it is also separated from truth—which explains the pejorative meaning. On this
basis, the first attitude can be rightly criticized as ‘abstract,’ because, conceiving
the objects of thought as external to the thought itself—in other words: discon-
nected from the ‘thought-being-unity’—it proves to still have ontological sepa-
ration at its very core. In this view, the objects of thought are not embedded in
a systematic context that produces them by way of deduction;23 rather, they are
simply given to the thought; they are found in a pre-existing ‘outside,’ toward
which subjective grasping cannot but come at a later moment.24
The kind of unity this first attitude is able to provide through the exercise of
reflection is thus only an illusory one, as it rests on the unfounded and unproven
belief that being is independent from thought and that thought can faithfully
reflect being. Such a unity is for Hegel only ‘abstract,’ because it is unable to prop-
erly deal with the separation it originates from. That is, it is unable to abolish and
conserve (aufheben) original ontological separation in the course of a thinking
process. In this case, unity does not develop gradually from separation as the
result of a dialectical movement of thought, but turns out to be something merely
posited, something lacking the solid foundation of a logical dialectical progress.
What emerges, finally, is not a unity between being and thought that is arrived at
through reasoning, but only a correspondence between being and thought that is
only postulated as the basis of reflection.
However fallacious the kind of unity achieved through the first attitude may
be, the very possibility of a unity between being and thought has never been
doubted by any thinker embracing this first theoretical approach. On the con-
trary, the second attitude of thought to objectivity (§§ 37–60, 106–147) denies any
chance of unification, by asserting a radical division between being and thought.
Hegel recognizes the British empiricists and Kant as the main exponents of this
position. “Instead of searching for truth in thought itself, empiricism goes to fetch
it from experience […]. In empiricism the great principle is valid that what is true
must be in reality and give itself to perception” (107–108); moreover “[c]ritical
philosophy [i.e. Kant’s philosophy] shares with empiricism the assumption that
experience is the unique foundation for knowledge; which, however, it does not
consider authentic truth, but only knowledge of phenomena” (112).
Truth, as Hegel would conceive it, is unreachable in this view, and the only
form of knowledge the human subject can thus aspire to is a merely phenomenal
one. An unbridgeable gap, even a gulf,25 divides the phenomenal world from the
real being consisting of impenetrable things-in-themselves. This means that the
form of unity this second attitude is able to provide may occur between percep-
tion and phenomenon, at the most, but definitely not between thought and being.
In addition, the difference between these two kinds of unity corresponds to that
which Hegel establishes between the notions of ‘certainty’ and ‘truth.’ According
25 The word ‘gulf,’ when used in connection with Kant’s philosophy, recurs several times
throughout the Enzyklopädie. For example: “Kant had only a sight of half the truth.
He explained the finite nature of the categories to mean that they were subjective only,
valid only for our thought, from which the thing-in-itself was divided by an impassable
gulf” (146–147, my emphasis).
Hegel’s Attitude of Thought 33
26 For Hegel, truth is the whole, the absolute, the last stage of the system, at which subjec-
tive and objective dimensions of reality reach their identity. Certainty, what is subjective
only cannot but be less than truth.
34 The First Way: Hegel
for example, the Cartesian res extensa—is now proven to be untenable. On the
contrary, thought can be recognized in being as its very essence, as that under-
lying, indwelling rationality, on whose basis subjective and objective sides of
reality come into agreement with each other. Subject and object are thus seen as
two dimensions of the same macro-dimension of thought, in which the processes
occurring among subjective determinations are governed by the same rationality
that also controls the developments of objective determinations.
If nothing can be external to thought, then everything is necessarily internal to
it, and thought comes thus to coincide with the whole itself. This is the Hegelian
way of overcoming divisions: thought, conceived by modern philosophers as
subjective only and thus opposed to being, is redefined and extended to encom-
pass also an objective side, along with the subjective one. This implies that
being—that is the existing things, or whatever can be considered an object—can
no longer be opposed to, but rather must be included in the sphere of thought.
The result is a delineation of thought as a single, comprehensive, common dimen-
sion, which, as such, places itself beyond any presumed division. Finally, the
specific term Hegel uses for the most mature and fully accomplished form of
thought is ‘spirit’ (Geist).28
28 In his Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie, Hegel says: “The Greek world
developed thought as far as the idea; the Christian-Germanic world conceived thought
in terms of spirit” (W 18: 123–124). The two ‘worlds’ are actually different perspectives
which the same element, that is thought, can be observed from. For Hegel, thought
is—and has always been—the main topic of philosophy, while idea and spirit repre-
sent two different levels of its development. Idea is a first level, at which thought is
still seen as a static object. Spirit is the most mature level, at which thought comes to
be considered the dynamic principle of reality as a whole. However, the spirit is no
substitute for the idea. Rather, it overcomes the idea, abolishing but also conserving
it—as Aufhebung-dynamics require.
36 The First Way: Hegel
its development. More precisely, Hegel elevates the sphere of the human from its
starting condition as particular consciousness to the level of that hypertrophic,
macro-consciousness that the absolute spirit is. As to the divine and the natural-
worldly, they are, respectively, identified with and incorporated into the absolute.
The Divine
“Philosophy shares its objects with religion. In both the object is truth, in that
supreme sense in which God and God only is the truth. In addition, both [phi-
losophy and religion] deal with the field of the finite, i.e. with the nature and
the human spirit, with their relationship to each other and to God, in which
their truth resides” (W 8: 41).29 This passage presents in a nutshell some of the
cornerstones of Hegel’s idealism, such as the equivalence of the truth with God
and the fact that nature and human spirit have their30 truths in it. Moreover, the
designation of the natural and the human as ‘finite fields’ implies, by contrast,
the infinity of truth as God—from which follows that the finite is true only if
considered in its relation to the infinite. What comes here to the fore, then, is
one of the defining traits of idealism: the sublation of the finite in the infinite. As
Hegel says: “The finite disappears in the infinite and what is, is only the infinite”
(W 5: 150).
The assertion that God is the infinite truth, and that everything finite must
relate to it to find its own legitimacy in partaking of the absolute, might give
the impression that Hegel’s view is not much different from the medieval one,
in which world and humankind are considered dependent on God. In fact,
this is really just an impression, because, on closer inspection, the medieval and
Hegelian views could not be more different. In the Middle Ages, God, as creator
of world and humankind, is seen as a transcendent being, separated from his
creation. On the contrary, Hegel thinks of God in terms of absolute spirit, which
is the ultimate stage of an immanent process that has the finite as its essential
component. For Hegel, it is not the unbridgeable gap of reciprocal transcendence
29 Compare the similar statement in the Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Religion: “The
object of religion as well as of philosophy is eternal truth in its objectivity, God and
nothing but God, and the explication of God. […]. Philosophy, therefore, only unfolds
itself when it unfolds religion, and in unfolding itself, it unfolds religion” (W 16: 28).
30 The possessive adjective ‘their’ is used to mark a difference between natural and
human truths, which are finite and particular, and divine truth, which is infinite. Once
again: that the natural and the human find their truths in their relationship to the truth
means that finite truths are legitimate only if included in the infinite one as parts of it.
The Three Spheres in Hegel’s Philosophy 37
to separate God from world and humankind—the infinite from the finite—but
the bridgeable distance that divides and connects at the same time the different
stages of the same process.
Hegel writes in the Enzyklopädie: “the content of Christian religion consists
in recognizing God as spirit” (W 10: 29–30). The reference to Christianity
introduces an important aspect of the equivalence between God and abso-
lute spirit, highlighting how both relate to the finite in the same way. One of
the main traits of the spirit is that it must particularize itself, make itself finite,
and turn back to itself, to finally know itself as spirit. For Hegel, God follows
an analogous pattern. In particular, the Christian notion of ‘incarnation’ (die
Menschenwerdung Gottes) is interpreted as a movement akin to the spiritual one,
that is as the movement of God othering himself in the realm of the finite, while
still remaining in himself infinite. A parallel can thus be drawn: the spirit must
go through the finite to come to know itself as infinite and absolute. Likewise,
God must incarnate himself, to attain in this way his full realization.
At this juncture, Hegel’s conception of God as infinite truth the spheres of
finitude have to rely on may need some refining. Of course, the finite must
relate to the infinity of God, but the word ‘relationship’31 may be too vague in
this context, as it could also describe other non-Hegelian views. The question
is then: what kind of relationship is here at issue? A proper answer should be
based on the characterization of God in terms of spirit. As absolute spirit, God is
a process, and more precisely, the result of a process founded on the mechanism
of Aufhebung. In the spirit, the finite is not only overcome, but also conserved in
the infinite, as a necessary moment in the course of its progress. Similarly, nature
and humankind relate to God in the same way as developmental stages relate to
the development itself. In other words: the spheres of the natural-worldly and of
the human are incorporated in that of the divine.
It is with good reason, then, that many scholars have regarded Hegel as pri-
marily a theologian.32 It must be emphasized, however, that his theology marks
a radical break with traditional theology of the medieval period. Understanding
God in terms of spirit, Hegel must reject any view of divinity based on transcen-
dence and sustain, on the contrary, a conception that sees God as inseparable
The Natural-Worldly
To understand the role of nature—the sphere of the natural-worldly, in the ter-
minology of this book—in the Hegelian system, some preliminary remarks are
necessary.
In the Wissenschaft der Logik, Hegel offers a definition of (his) idealism: “The
claim that the finite is an idealization defines idealism. The idealism of philos-
ophy consists in nothing else than in the recognition that the finite is not a true
being ([k]ein wahrhaft Seiendes)” (W 5: 172).33 Two points delineating Hegel’s
conception can be inferred from this passage: (1) if finite things have no ver-
itable being in themselves, they obviously depend on something else for their
existence; (2) what finite things depend on cannot be finite itself, otherwise it
would be dependent as well. This independent entity, then, must be infinite, or
better: it must be the infinite, that is the absolute, that is the truth, that is God.34
What emerges here is a complementary aspect of the same relationship previ-
ously considered from God’s perspective, because saying that the fields of the
finite (the natural-worldly and the human) have their truth in the infinite (God
or the divine) implies that the finite does not have truth in itself.
Let us now turn our attention to the particular field of nature. In the
Enzyklopädie, Hegel writes: “The Philosophy of Nature [is] the science of Idea
in its otherness. […]. In Nature nothing else would have to be discerned, except
33 The passage continues as follows: “Every philosophy is essentially idealism or, at least,
has idealism as its basic principle. The question is only, to which extent such a principle
is developed” (W 5: 172). Hegel’s assertion is thus in agreement with Rosenzweig’s con-
ception of an idealistic vein characterizing philosophy in general. The evaluations they
make of it are opposite, though: while Hegel praises this view, Rosenzweig criticizes it.
34 A series of equivalences can be tracked down throughout Hegel’s corpus. (1) From
the passage quoted above emerges that God is the truth. (2) In the Phänomenologie
des Geistes, Hegel says clearly that “only the absolute is true, or truth is the abso-
lute” (W 3: 70, my emphasis). (3) As to the link between the notions of infinity and
absoluteness, it is not a perfect correspondence, because absoluteness is infinite, but
infinity is not necessarily absolute. More precisely, absoluteness is infinity that has gone
through—that is has abolished and conserved—the dimension of finitude. Before this
transition, infinity can be given, but not absoluteness. Combining the three points,
then: God is truth, which is the absolute, which is the infinite after its contact with the
finite.
The Three Spheres in Hegel’s Philosophy 39
the Idea itself; but the Idea in the form of its externalization (Entäußerung)”
(W 8: 64). By ‘idea’ Hegel means the infinite as logical structure of reality. This
means that, despite being already infinite, the idea is still not absolute,35 as it has
not yet externalized itself in the finite.36 This transition is in fact necessary for
the idea to become fully-fledged spirit, as it has to “come back to itself out of that
otherness” (ibid.), to come to “enjoy itself as absolute spirit” (394). Only an exter-
nalization into nature, then, represents that condition of otherness, from which
the idea can come back to itself and thus acquire its true being as absolute spirit.
Falling into finitude, in other words, is necessary to rise again to absoluteness.
The relationship between nature and idea can thus be seen as a particular expres-
sion of the more general relationship between the finite and the infinite. More pre-
cisely: the idea is the infinite entity, which, by developing itself, becomes spirit and
constitutes reality; while nature, as a finite sphere, is a phase of this development.
For Hegel, nature is not separated from the idea as something subordinate or ines-
sential; rather, it is a necessary step of its evolution into spirit. To make the point
clear, finally, a theoretical parallel can be established between three levels of Hegel’s
conception: (1) the infinite must go through the finite and come back, in order
to become absolute. (2) God must incarnate himself into a human being, to fully
develop his divine essence. (3) The idea (infinite) must externalize itself into nature
(finite) and come back into itself, to finally become spirit (absolute as unity of infi-
nite and finite).
The Human
The sphere of the human in Hegel’s philosophy can be analyzed by considering the
role the empirical ‘I’ plays in the systematic progress of spirit.
The Phänomenologie des Geistes is entirely dedicated to the development of
the particular subject into the absolute spirit, retracing the many steps of what
can be seen as an ascent of particularity to universality and absoluteness.37 In
35 Once again, the difference between infinity and absoluteness becomes noticeable.
36 It is particularly meaningful that Hegel describes this still immature stage as corre-
sponding to “the representation of God in his eternal essence before the creation of
nature and finite spirit” (W 6: 44). This description provides a further argument—if
need still be—in support of the parallel between God and spirit: the idea is immature
spirit, just as God is still undeveloped before his contact with the spheres of the finite.
37 With regard to the different interpretations of the Phänomenologie des Geistes, Maria
F. Bykova (2009) distinguishes two opposite approaches: a ‘top down’ and a ‘bottom
up’ approach. Both represent incomplete, one-sided views, as the former tends to focus
on the universal, neglecting the particular, while the latter exaggerates the particular
40 The First Way: Hegel
this elevation, the two extremes of the process share a fundamental trait, namely
self-consciousness: the capability of consciousness—be it particular or absolute—
to know itself. Since the establishment of the subjectivist paradigm, self-con-
sciousness has always been seen as the essence of the particular subject, but for
Hegel it is also the very foundation of absoluteness.38 In his view, the reason why
the absolute is as it is, is because it does not depend on anything to come to be,
except its own self-knowledge.39 Ontological and cognitive moments thus come
to coincide in the absolute, as this posits itself (ontological moment) by thinking
of itself (cognitive moment).
Self-consciousness characterizes both the single individual and the absolute
spirit. In this regard, Hegel uses the same noun, Individuum (individual), for both
notions, distinguishing them only through the adjectives besondere (particular)
and allgemein (universal). The aim of the Phänomenologie is “to lead the [par-
ticular] individual, from its uncultivated condition, to knowledge, and to con-
sider the universal individual, i.e. the self-conscious spirit, in its development”
(W 3: 31). While the universal individual is explicitly said to be self-conscious,
that is completely developed spirit, “the particular individual is incomplete
spirit” (32). But the point here is that both the particular and the universal are
individuals, because in both the essential feature of individuality, that is self-con-
sciousness, stands out. However different they may be, the particular and the
universal share at least this: that each of them is capable of self-knowledge.
Hegel’s movement of thought seems to consist in projecting the dynamics
of self-consciousness from the level of a particular individual onto that of the
absolute—with the result of a universal individual, or absolute spirit, whose
This definitely solves the problem, but—as Habermas says—it does it “too well”
(1985: 55), that is: divisions are certainly overcome—which may be good—but
the price to pay is that, once ‘swallowed up’ within the absolute, each sphere loses
fundamental aspects of its essence, not to mention its autonomy. In Rosenzweig’s
view, this is bad because the philosophical conception deriving from such a loss
turns out to be incapable of properly accounting for reality. To be more precise,
important dimensions of each sphere must be given up for the sole purpose of
bringing these within the absolute spirit. The result is a picture of reality that is
certainly unitary, well-organized, and rational, but precisely for this reason does
not correspond to what reality actually is.41
(2) That the Hegelian system is a well-organized uni-totality translates into the
fact that it is hierarchically organized. As a matter of fact, a hierarchical ap-
proach can be noticed in different aspects of the system: in the way its parts
relate to one another, for example, but also in the relationship between these
parts and the whole.
Hierarchy among the parts is a direct consequence of dialectical logic: the law
governing the system in the course of its development. According to this law,
each category bears an internal contradiction that makes it develop into its oppo-
site. This turns out to be self-contradictory too, and as such, leads consequently
back to the first category again. Far from resulting in a closed loop, however, this
reciprocal reference introduces a new category that unites the previous two, by
preserving and abolishing (aufheben) their contradiction. The point is that the
third category, thanks to its capability of coping with contradiction, proves to
have a higher rank than the two preceding ones. Furthermore, for the dialectical
movement to continue, it is necessary that the third category of a certain level
acts at the same time as the first category of the following level. What emerges,
finally, is an ascending, hierarchical succession of logical steps culminating in
the highest-ranking, final category of the absolute spirit.
Including each and every other category, the absolute spirit is not only enti-
tled to the highest rank in the system, but, in its final step, it also comes to be the
system itself. Here, a second form of hierarchy can be pointed out which assigns
primacy to the systematic whole over the sum of its parts, as well as over each
of them when considered singularly. In other words, the Hegelian conception
ranks the multiplicity of categories as being subordinate to the uni-totality. As
Rosenzweig writes: “One-dimensionality is the form of uni-totality of knowledge
41 This topic will be discussed in more depth in the section dedicated to Rosenzweig.
44 The First Way: Hegel
that includes all things in it without remainder. The being, which always appears
in its multiplicity, is totally subsumed in that unity as absolute; if a content should
occupy a particularly eminent position, […], such a position can be only one, in
this system: that of the principle that, as method, brings the system into unity
with itself ” (GS 2: 116).
A third hierarchical conception that can be imputed to Hegel concerns what
for Rosenzweig is a subordination of becoming to the fundamentally static char-
acter of the system. Of course, from a Hegelian perspective, it can be objected that
the whole system is nothing else than a continuous passing from one category to
another, in such a way that the importance of becoming is emphasized, instead
of being diminished. But Rosenzweig would reply that the kind of movement
developing inside the system is only an apparent one. The development of the
system is always led by logical-dialectical necessity, which in Rosenzweig’s view
inevitably turns becoming into stasis. For example, when Rosenzweig writes that
“an All would not die” (4), he means that the most radical form of becoming,
that is death, is precluded to the All, and that any other form accessible to it is
necessarily a minor one.42
The problem of hierarchy, that Rosenzweig recognizes affecting philosophy
in general, appears all the more intensified in Hegel’s philosophy. In fact, the
hierarchical relationships it establishes do not involve only the three spheres of
the human, the natural and the divine; rather, hierarchies are multiplied and
reaffirmed in the Hegelian system at every level of its dialectical development, as
they can be found between each category and every other one. In addition, mul-
tiplicity and becoming—that for Rosenzweig are essential traits of reality—are
relegated to a subordinate position in the system, while uni-totality and static
being are at the top of its conceptual hierarchy.
(3) Hegel relates the notion of division to that of abstractness. His under-
standing of the second term, however, is quite different from the meaning
it has in common usage, because something is ‘abstract,’ in Hegel’s view, if
it is taken as isolated from the context that provides it with a meaning. In
idealism, the context the meaning of everything comes from is the absolute
42 This is one of the aspects where Rosenzweig’s debt to Kierkegaard is more evident.
Forced to develop along a logically determined path, authentic becoming gives in to
the stasis of being. As Kierkegaard says—and Rosenzweig agrees with him: “in logic no
movement can come about, for logic is, and everything logical simply is” (Kierkegaard
1844: 112). And later on, in the same work: “[…] a becoming by necessity is simply a
state of being” (119–120).
Hegel and Rosenzweig 45
43 Once again, a more in-depth inquiry into the reasons of this failure will explain, in the
section dedicated to Rosenzweig, what has only been briefly mentioned here.
46 The First Way: Hegel
“Marx’s and Kierkegaard’s attack separates exactly what Hegel has united; both
reverse his conciliation of reason and reality [, thus causing] the dissolution of
Hegel’s system (Auflösung von Hegels System). […]. This radical critique of the
current state of affairs (radikale Kritik des Bestehenden) is philosophically based
on the examination of Hegel’s conception of ‘reality’ as a ‘unity of essence and
existence.’ Basically, the entire controversy addresses a single sentence from the
Preface to the Philosophy of Right: ‘what is rational is real; and what is real is
rational’ ” (Löwith 1941: 155). This citation by Karl Löwith describes a deci-
sive turning point in the history of Western philosophy. The Hegelian system
embodies the attempt to reassemble all separations previous positions have pro-
duced; but against Hegel, Marx and Kierkegaard usher in a period of philosophy
in which those divisions are reaffirmed with even more strength.
Essence and existence, rationality and reality, thought and being find their
ultimate unity in the Hegelian notion of absolute spirit. But if Hegel’s thought
ends in a complete reconciliation (Versöhnung) between opposite dimensions,
the epoch that follows starts by calling into question such an accomplishment,
reasserting the dichotomies that Hegel believed to have overcome. Thus Marx,
for example, focuses on the gap between theory and praxis,44 while Feuerbach
emphasizes the difference between material reality and ideal thought.45 In this
context, particular attention should be paid to Kierkegaard, as he is one of the
main reference points for Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking.’ A profound irreducibility
between individual existence and universal essence is the basis of Kierkegaard’s
reflections. And in such a basis Rosenzweig finds the “Archimedean point”
(GS 2: 7), from which the systematic idea of uni-totality can be overturned.
44 In his well-known eleventh thesis on Feuerbach, Marx declares that “the philosophers
have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point, however, is to change it”
(Marx 1845: 21). Interpretation and change represent the theoretical and practical sides
of philosophy. Whatever development may take place in the realm of theory, it does
not necessarily imply a corresponding development in the field of praxis.
45 As is well-known, Hegel maintains that the material dimension of reality has its
ultimate truth in thought. Against this view, Feuerbach says: “Taken in its reality or
regarded as real, the real is the object of the senses—the sensuous. Truth, reality, and
sensuousness are one and the same thing. Only a sensuous being is a true and real
being” (Feuerbach 1843: 298).
48 The Second Way: Nietzsche
What Löwith says about Marx and Kierkegaard, however, turns out to be all
the more valid for Nietzsche, who pushes their anti-Hegelian slant to its extreme
consequences, arguing for the most radical break between the dimensions that
Hegel tried to unify. Not only Nietzsche does reject the idealistic identity of
rationality and reality by criticizing its logical foundation;46 he also remolds both
the notions in such a way that any connection between them becomes defini-
tively untenable. On the one hand, such typical Nietzschean ideas as the “mean-
inglessness of the whole (Sinnlosigkeit des Ganzen)” (KGA 8.3: 4. 1888, 13–2),
“the chaos of the All (das Chaos des Alls)” (KGA 5.2: 426. 1881, 11–225), and
especially the doctrine of ‘eternal return’ testify to his conception of reality as a
dimension impervious to any form of rationality. On the other hand, rationality
itself is degraded to a mere product of human needs.
In a posthumous fragment, for example, Nietzsche writes: “The trust in reason
and its categories, in dialectic, and hence the valuing of logic, proves only that
through experience these have been shown useful, and not that they are true”
(KGA 8.2: 16. 1887, 9–38). Rationality is not the objective rule it claims to be,
but rather just a human strategy to cope with the threats of an irrational reality: it
is not true, but just useful.47 Nothing in reality implies that it should conform to
rationality; the actual foundation of this idea lies in an inborn human need for
certainty. This translates into the human will to live in an ordered world and thus
into the establishment of an order which can assure security and safety against
the unpredictability of irrationality. In this view, rationality turns out to be
nothing more than the way through which such an order is finally provided, and
Nietzscheanism represents the clear realization of this (thus far unknown) pro-
cess. It is through Nietzsche’s reflections that “philosophers […] became aware of
the sureness, of the subjective certainty that derives from handling the categories
of reason” (KGA 6.3: 71).
Recalling now the Homeric metaphor with which Rosenzweig characterizes
his ‘new thinking,’ a three-term relationship comes to the fore: the idealistic
Charybdis is opposed to the irrational Skylla, while Rosenzweig’s own thought
takes shape as a theory that is equally different from both. If Hegel epitomizes
perfectly the idealist pole, Nietzsche, as the embodiment of the most radical form
46 “One chooses dialectic only when one has no other means” (KGA 6.3: 64). Though
referring explicitly to dialectic, it is clear that Nietzsche’s criticism can be extended to
rationality in general.
47 A passage from Götzen-Dämmerung points in the same direction, presenting a rational
attitude as a choice: “rationality betrays a desperate situation; there was danger, there
was but one choice: either to perish or—to be absurdly rational” (66, my emphasis).
Nietzsche’s Irrationalism for Rosenzweig 49
of anti-idealism, can rightly represent the opposite pole—if Hegel symbolizes the
triumph of rationality, Nietzsche, striking at the very core of Hegel’s conception,
exemplifies an affirmation of irrationality.
then elevated above all others, as it concentrates in itself all the worth and value
that, at the same time, other dimensions are deprived of. These end up losing
their significance, at some point even dwindling into insignificance. This dis-
placement of value from one dimension to another—which closely recalls the
reduction of one sphere to another in Rosenzweig’s analysis—is for Nietzsche a
form of “hyperbolic49 naivety” (KGA 8.2: 291. 1887: 11–91) that has its origin in
the birth of rationalism with Socrates and in particular Plato.
For Nietzsche, the paradigm of ‘hyperbolic naivety’ is Plato’s theory of ideas
and the radical separation it establishes between ideal and perceptible world.
Such a separation is not a neutral one, as it does not result in two equal-ranking
parts, but rather leads to their arrangement into a hierarchy. Truth and value can
be ascribed only to the ideal world, whereas the perceptible one is downgraded
to the level of mere illusion: it may partake, to some extent, of ideal truth, but
it is not true itself. Since the world we have concretely experience of is charac-
terized by continuous changing, Plato concludes that no stable knowledge can
be derived from it. Only the realm of ideas—the hyperuranion (ὑπερουράνιον)
(Phaed. 247 b–c), in Plato’s terms—is beyond physical change. Therefore it is also
provided with that eternal perfection which makes it the repository of the truth-
value which the empirical world, as illusion, is deprived of.
In Plato’s theory, the hyperuranion is situated at the highest level of reality;
the empirical world is ranked at the lowest level; while human beings occupy a
sort of in-between position. As a compound of body and soul, the human being
belongs to nature, because of her physical features, but she also stands in rela-
tion to the ideal world through the spiritual character of her soul. The Platonic
hierarchy, moreover, is not only installed between ideal and empirical world, but
also prevails within the field of ideality itself, which is organized into three ranked
categories: the ideas of empirical things (‘man,’ ‘horse,’ ‘apple,’ etc.), mathematical
ideas (‘triangle,’ ‘number five,’ ‘sum,’ etc.), and the so-called ‘value-ideas’ (‘truth,’
‘justice,’ ‘beauty,’ ‘goodness’). ‘Value-ideas’ are at the top of the hierarchy; and of
these, ‘goodness’ is the most important.
A hierarchical way of thinking permeates all levels of the Platonic view of
reality. But it affects also other conceptions, such as Christianity, for instance.
49 It is not by chance that the word ‘hyperbolic’ is used here. It is a clear reference to the
Greek verb hyperballein (ὑπέρβάλλειν), which means ‘to throw over or beyond,’ from
hyper (ὑπέρ), ‘above’ and ballo (βάλλω), ‘I throw’. The adjective ‘hyperbolic’ refers, in
general, to a displacing movement. In this particular case, such movement applies to
and takes place within the philosophical value system.
52 The Second Way: Nietzsche
50 From this point of view, Platonism and Christianity are similar, of course, but not
identical. One of the main differences between them consists, for example, in the no-
tion of ‘creation.’ While Christianity conceives it as a movement from nothingness to
being (creatio ex nihilo), there is no such thing as ‘creation’ in Plato’s terminology. In
his cosmology, expounded in the dialog Timaeus, the origin of the universe depends
on the activity of a demiurge that gives form to pre-existing matter by imitating eternal
models.
Against Values and Hierarchies 53
51 “This is the most extreme form of nihilism: nothingness (the senseless) eternally!”
(KGA 8.1: 217. 1886, 5, 71–6).
52 Needless to say, the ‘spirit’ Nietzsche talks about here has nothing to do with Hegel’s
understanding of the term.
53 The difference between those who need stability and those who can do without it lies
in their different levels of independence. “It is the business of the very few to be inde-
pendent; it is a privilege of the strong” (KGA 6.2: 43).
54 The Second Way: Nietzsche
54 “Only the innocence of becoming gives us the highest courage and the highest freedom”
(KGA 7.1: 351. 1883, 8–19).
Nietzsche and Hegel 55
55 The difference between ‘will to power’ and ‘will to truth’ is just a matter of degree. More
precisely, ‘will to truth’ is the still immature form ‘will to power’ assumes, as long as
the notion of ‘truth’ is considered tenable.
The Three Spheres in Nietzsche’s Philosophy 57
everything returns in an infinite loop, any stable reference point becomes unten-
able—and thus the very possibility of a rigid configuration for reality is alto-
gether undermined.
life with the same lightness and innocence of a child, that is the third and last
metamorphosis.
The concepts delineating Nietzsche’s understanding of the three spheres are
all expressions of the last two phases. God’s death and the demise of the idea of
a ‘true world’ show the same destructive slant that characterizes nihilism in its
active-reactive stage: they clearly represent a rejection of such values as ‘tran-
scendence’ (God) and ‘truth’ (the true world). This step, moreover, paves the way
for the following one: the active-ecstatic phase that summarizes the remaining
notions. Active-ecstatic nihilism stands for a higher dimension of being, whose
defining feature is, above all, a lack of reference points, as implied in the notion
of eternal return. The will to power, as a vital impulse, serves as the unique cri-
terion to orient oneself in the new dimension. And here is where the notion of
Übermensch becomes particularly relevant: it hints at the emergence of a supe-
rior human being, who embraces the eternal return as a form of freedom and is
thus able to embody the will to power.
The Divine
The sphere of the divine is for Nietzsche the paradigm of hierarchy and hierar-
chical thinking in general. No wonder, then, that his attitude toward it is a highly
critical one. The anti-hierarchical character of Nietzsche’s thought leads him to
see in the notion of God, and in everything it represents, the main polemical
target for his plan of a ‘transvaluation of all values.’
God’s death is not to be taken in a strictly theological way. Rather, Nietzsche
conceives of it as an emblematic figure, as the ultimate development of a more
general process: the rejection of values and hierarchies that acts as a leitmotif
for the whole of his philosophy. God’s death, then, represents and summarizes
many other deaths, such as: the death of an absolute truth, the death of the no-
tion of rational totality, of logic, the death of moral values, or of values in general.
Actually, the sentence ‘God is dead’ does not mean that he has simply ‘passed
away’—as if the idea of God had spontaneously fallen into disuse and had ceased
to exert any influence on human existence. Quite the contrary, this death is more
precisely a murder. The ‘madman’ in Die fröhliche Wissenschaft is extremely clear
on this point, when he says: “God is dead! God stays dead! […]. We have killed
him—you and I. We are all his killers” (KGA 5.2: 159).
God’s death is a human act. It is the extreme consequence of the realization
that values presumed to be founding are not founding at all, but rather founded.
They are not absolute and incontrovertible, as they claim to be. They are just
human creations for the sake of human convenience. And once all values reveal
The Three Spheres in Nietzsche’s Philosophy 59
their fictive character, it makes perfect sense that the highest among them, that is
God as their paradigm, is degraded, rejected, and, in Nietzsche’s words, ‘killed.’
At the same time, God’s death implies also a loss of orientation56 in reality: “Who
gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? […] Are we not incessantly
falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there still any up or
down? Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing?” (ibid.)—asks the
‘madman.’ But this feeling of disorientation in a godless world can be kind of a
testing ground for humankind: it marks the difference between those who are still
in need of orientation and those who greet its loss as a new freedom.
Humankind has always perceived the precarious mutability of the world as
a threat: uncontrollable and unpredictable, worldly becoming is a dimension
human beings have always felt to be at the mercy of. In this context, God’s exis-
tence has always acted as an immutable value, placed beyond becoming and gov-
erning it from above. God embodies stability beyond and against instability. God
is the stable reference point humankind has always related to, to make becoming
bearable. But the comfort the idea of God can provide is, for Nietzsche, the only
reason why such an idea has been developed. This means that God is not causa
sui—as a long philosophical tradition maintains—but rather a creation of human
will. God—and the whole system of values he is at the top of—is just a produc-
tion of the will to power; its attempt to find a remedy against the uncertainty and
contingency of existence.
It is easy to recognize the eternal return in the constantly changing dimension
humankind is scared of. However, the fact that it is still perceived as threatening
indicates a low level of human maturity. At this level, the ‘will to power’ is still
a ‘will to truth’ and is still intent on concealing the (putative) threat of worldly
becoming under the comforting (but false) safety of eternal values—such as God.
At a more mature level, Nietzsche’s characterization of the divine as a human cre-
ation ties in with the awareness that such a creation is not even useful, as the
danger it aims to avoid turns out not to be a danger at all. Precariousness and
uncertainty can and should be seen in a positive light, as inexhaustible sources of
ever new possibilities. When this occurs, ‘will to truth’ can develop into the more
mature ‘will to power,’ welcoming the old threat as a new dimension of freedom
and serving as the guiding principle with which to explore it.
56 Precisely ‘orientation’ is a key notion for comparing Nietzsche’s and Rosenzweig’s views.
See, in particular, the part dedicated to the meaning of revelation in Rosenzweig’s ‘new
thinking’: Between God and Human Being. The Path of Revelation.
60 The Second Way: Nietzsche
The Natural-Worldly
Nietzsche’s thinking on the sphere of the natural-worldly follows the rise and fall
of the idea of ‘true world,’ reconstructing its history in a six-phase process.57 It is
worth quoting the entire passage:
“1. The true world—attainable for the sage, the pious, the virtuous man; he lives in it,
he is it.
(The oldest form of the idea, relatively sensible, simple, and persuasive. A circumlo-
cution for the sentence, ‘I, Plato, am the truth’).
2. The true world—unattainable for now, but promised for the sage, the pious, the virtuous
man (‘for the sinner who repents.’)
(Progress of the idea: it becomes more subtle, insidious, incomprehensible—it
becomes female, it becomes Christian.)
3. The true world—unattainable, indemonstrable, unpromisable; but the very thought of
it—a consolation, an obligation, an imperative.
(At bottom, the old sun, but seen through mist and skepticism. The idea has become
elusive, pale, Nordic, Königsbergian).
4. The true world—unattainable? At any rate, unattained. And being unattained, also
unknown. Consequently, not consoling, redeeming, or obligating: how could some-
thing unknown obligate us?
(Gray morning. The first yawn of reason. The cockcrow of positivism).
5. The ‘true’ world—an idea which is no longer good for anything, not even obligating—an
idea which has become useless and superfluous—consequently, a refuted idea: let us
abolish it!
(Bright day; breakfast; return of bon sens and cheerfulness; Plato’s embarrassed blush
pandemonium of all free spirits).
6. The true world—we have abolished. What world has remained? The apparent one per-
haps? But no! With the true world we have also abolished the apparent one.
(Noon; moment of the briefest shadow; end of the longest error; high point of
humanity; INCIPIT ZARATHUSTRA)” (KGA 6.3: 74–75).
(1) The ‘true world’ is at first thought of as fully reachable through the exercise
of rationality: the wise man can gain access to it by means of reasoning.
(2) Christianity modifies this view by delaying the reaching of the ‘true world.’
This is conceived in terms of ‘after life,’ as a promised dimension placed beyond
the empirical, non-true world. (3) Kantian philosophy represents the following
57 The division in six phases recalls—and mocks—the biblical creation of the world in
six days.
The Three Spheres in Nietzsche’s Philosophy 61
step. In Kantianism, the ‘true world’ is neither accessible nor promised, but only
thinkable as one of the three notions human reason assumes as regulative ideals.
(4) Positivism goes a step further, by denying also the thinkableness of a pre-
sumed ‘true world,’ which turns out to be unknowable, unknown, and thus inca-
pable of providing humankind with any sort of consolation.
The last two points describe two different aspects of Nietzsche’s own philos-
ophy. Point (5) corresponds to the awareness that the idea of a ‘true world’ is
a useless one and to the consequent decision to discard it for good. This may
seem to be the final step of the whole process, but in fact another phase follows,
point (6). Since the very concept of a ‘true world’ has to be abolished, that of an
‘apparent world’ becomes untenable too. Along with the notion of ‘true world,’
that of ‘apparent world’ must fall too, because if two concepts are defined by way
of contrast with each other, rejecting one of them implies also the rejection of
the other. If the ‘apparent world’ has its whole meaning in being ‘hierarchically
inferior to the true one’—that is if its definition depends on and follows from
that of the true one—it obviously vanishes, once the ‘true world’ is revealed to be
nothing more than a ‘fable.’
Not only is the ‘true world’ a construct, but so is also the ‘apparent’ one as
its conceptual opposite. Once the true and the apparent world, as well as the
hierarchical difference between them, collapse by revealing their fictive nature,
a conception of reality as pure becoming emerges from their ashes. Without the
burden of such concepts as ‘true’ or ‘apparent,’ the world that remains is the full
expression of what Nietzsche calls ‘innocence of becoming’ and ‘eternal return:’
a dimension of freedom that, as such, fosters the free exercise of the ‘will to
power.’ The cited text How the true world finally became a fable ends with the
words ‘INCIPIT ZARATHUSTRA.’ This means that the changing fortunes of the
idea of ‘true world’ are seen as a preparation for the last, most mature phase of
Nietzsche’s thought, which is embodied in the figure of Zarathustra and his dec-
laration of a higher form of humankind.
The Human
“And Zarathustra spoke to the people: ‘I bring you the Overman (Übermensch).
Humankind is something to be surpassed’ ” (KGA 6.1: 8). The main notion
for Nietzsche’s account of the sphere of the human is the Overman. Its distin-
guishing trait can be found in a fundamental ‘freedom of spirit,’ which consists
in “delight and power of self-determination, a freedom of the will, in which
the spirit takes leave of all faith and every wish for certainty, practiced as it is
in maintaining itself on light ropes and possibilities and dancing even beside
62 The Second Way: Nietzsche
abysses. Such a spirit would be the free spirit par excellence.” (KGA 5.2: 265).
Obviously, reaching such a level of freedom is no easy task. It must be assidu-
ously gained through the (sometimes painful) rejection of firmly held beliefs and
values. And it is also necessary to leave behind for good the need for certainty
those beliefs and values were created to satisfy.
It is in this context that the notion of eternal return meets that of Übermensch,
the former serving as a sort of litmus test for the latter. More precisely, the difference
between mere Mensch and authentic Übermensch consists in their different ways of
relating to and coping with the “most abyssal thought (abgründlichster Gedanke)”
(KGA 6.1: 267) of eternal return. On the one hand, the Mensch is unable to come to
terms with the idea of a recurrence of all things, viewing it only with a disquieting
sense of uncertainty and remaining blind to its positive implications. On the other
hand, the Übermensch is defined precisely by its capability to accept and even enjoy
such an eternal cycle, regarding the lack of reference points it implies as a form of
liberation, and relying on the will to power as his only guide to experience the many
possibilities the new freedom has to offer.
The path of Nietzsche’s thought starts with harsh criticism of the three tra-
ditional spheres, goes on to reveal their inconsistency and ends by prefiguring
an utterly different approach to reality. ‘Eternal return’ and ‘will to power’
stand out as basic principles of this new perspective, while the Übermensch
represents a connection between them, as he can endure the ‘eternal return’ by
embodying the ‘will to power.’ More precisely, the sphere of the divine vanishes,
as its highest expression, God, dies. In the sphere of the natural-worldly, the
traditional distinction between ‘true’ and ‘apparent’ collapses and the old con-
cept of a ‘true world,’ logically organized and thus rationally comprehendible,
is replaced with the irrational, yet also liberating, disorientation of the eternal
return. Finally, in the sphere of the human a process of elevation should take
place that allows the mere Mensch to be overcome and replaced by the highest
form of Übermensch.
To sum up, then: God is out of the picture; the world is free from the hierarchy
imposed by rationality; and humankind must give over the floor to the Overman,
as the beneficiary of the newly obtained freedom.
58 It is worth noting that it is not ‘the systematic’ as such that Rosenzweig rejects. For
example, he clearly says his book Der Stern der Erlösung is “just a philosophical
system (bloß ein System der Philosophie)” (GS 3: 140). However, Rosenzweig’s asser-
tion needs to be read together with Wiehl’s explanatory note, who says: “[…] a system,
of course, but it is conceived of in an utterly different way from the idealistic one”
(Wiehl 1998: 171). Moreover, the systematic character of Rosenzweig’s thought is the
focus of Benjamin Pollock’s work, who—like Wiehl—acknowledges that “Rosenzweig
approaches philosophy’s traditional task of system in a radically original manner”
(Pollock 2009: 1). On the same topic see also Bontas 2011.
59 It is worth emphasizing once again (see the section Nietzsche’s Irrationalism for
Rosenzweig) that ‘irrational’ should not be understood to mean ‘incomprehensible’ or
‘absurd,’ but simply ‘beyond reason.’
64 The Second Way: Nietzsche
an ontological60 principle that places itself beyond rationality. About these topics,
Nietzsche writes: “The total character of the world […] is for all eternity chaos
[…]. Judged from the vantage point of our reason, the unsuccessful attempts
are by far the rule” (KGA 5.2: 146). It is human reason that, trying and failing
to bring order to the chaos, classifies anything that eludes rationality under the
label of ‘unsuccessful attempt.’ Such a negative meaning, however, is based on
the unfounded presupposition that reality should have a rational structure. Yet,
once again, this presupposition has no other origin than in a human need for
certainty, the human inability to accept an irrational reality. It is the Overman’s
task to change that negative evaluation and restore reality’s irrational character
to its rights.
Criticism of the idealistic system is also at the core of Rosenzweig’s thought.
He argues that in order for the system to contain the three spheres as its inte-
grated parts, they have to be reduced previously to their rational aspects only;
and in the course of this reduction, the irrational aspects, which are incompat-
ible with the system itself, are left out. Rosenzweig’s line of reasoning consists,
then, in showing that reality also includes other, hitherto neglected, dimensions;
that these have an irrational character; and that a philosophical account of the
three spheres which is restricted to their rational dimensions only tells but a part
of the whole story—that is only the rational part. But God, world, and human
being are actually much more than their rational side: they also show irrational
traits that, by their very nature, do not let themselves be systematized, and thus
frustrate any attempt to lock reality up in an ordered, hierarchical structure.61
This is finally the main affinity between Nietzsche and Rosenzweig: both
develop a movement of thought that, going beyond rationality, reveals the inad-
equacy of a purely rational approach and comes to put the very basis of idealistic,
systematic thinking into question.
(2) About God, world, and human being, Rosenzweig writes: “we are holding
the pieces in our hands. We have really shattered the All. [Its] unity is broken
apart for us. […]. These are the elements of our world” (GS 2: 91). The three
spheres are not seen as parts of an idealistic system anymore, they are free
from the hold of the systematic All. Now, this non-systematic approach
implies not only that their irrational dimension is finally acknowledged,
but also that the interactions between them develop beyond logical-rational
60 “The innermost essence of being [is] will to power” (KGA 8.3: 52. 1888, 14–80).
61 For a more detailed analysis of Rosenzweig’s understanding of the three spheres, see
the following chapter, in particular the section Rosenzweig vs. Idealism I. Elements.
Nietzsche and Rosenzweig 65
62 The first part of Heidegger’s study on Nietzsche is titled Der Wille zur Macht als Kunst
(1936–1946: 1–224). See also Vattimo’s La volontà di potenza come arte (1978).
66 The Second Way: Nietzsche
From this it follows that the human approach to reality—that is the relation-
ship between the sphere of the human and that of the natural-worldly—comes
to resemble the free unfurling of creative play occurring beyond the necessary
development of a rational-logical process. Human beings do not turn to reality
to discover a pre-existing meaning in it; rather, they mold reality with their will,
creating its meaning each time anew.
To sum up: for Rosenzweig, reality is a complex of three elements—God,
world, and human being. These relate to each other in three relationships—crea-
tion, revelation, and redemption—which develop in both rational and irrational
ways. On the other hand, Nietzsche’s view of reality consists of two dimensions
only: the ‘eternal return,’ on the natural-worldly side, and the Overman on the
human side. The kind of relation these give rise to reveals the irrational char-
acter of an open process: a never-ending, ever-renewing attribution of meaning
to reality. Rosenzweig aims at amending the one-sided view offered by a sys-
tematic approach by also considering irrational dimensions in his account of
reality. Against the same polemical target, however, Nietzsche takes a different
approach. He conceives of reality as a purely irrational dimension, in which ratio-
nality is rejected altogether.
(3) This fundamental difference is mirrored also in the ways Nietzsche and
Rosenzweig conceive of truth. The Hegelian system represents the final step
of a process that, running through the whole history of philosophy, ends
with a full overlap between the notions of uni-totality and truth. Given this
equivalence, criticizing the former—as both Nietzsche and Rosenzweig
do—also implies a critique of the latter. But, whereas it could be said that
Rosenzweig destroys to reconstruct, Nietzsche seems to destroy in order to
enjoy the aftermath of destruction. To put it clearly: what Rosenzweig aims
at is a reform of truth; Nietzsche, on the other hand, proclaims its definitive
dissolution.
Idealism, as traditional philosophy’s culmination, has always seen truth as
‘absolute,’ ‘incontrovertible,’ and achievable through rational reasoning. Once
idealism collapses and its founding notion of a rationality-based uni-totality is
called into question, truth also changes radically: without the solid foundation
of a rational principle, it turns from ‘absolute’ and ‘incontrovertible’ into ‘rela-
tive’ and ‘revisable.’ One may argue, however, this new form of truth cannot be
rightly considered truth anymore: without absoluteness and incontrovertibility
it is doubtful that there is anything left to call ‘truth.’ And this is exactly what
Nietzsche thinks. From the crisis of idealism, he concludes that truth in general,
as a rational achievement, is impossible. Richard Cohen, for example, makes this
Nietzsche and Rosenzweig 67
63 In this context, ‘objective’ does not indicate the antonym of ‘subjective,’ as it is not this
contrast at issue here. ‘Objective,’ in this citation, is just a synonym for ‘rigid,’ ‘absolute,’
and ‘incontrovertible.’
64 Each of these aspects will be carefully analyzed in the following parts of this work.
68 The Second Way: Nietzsche
“the true All” (GS 2: 428), that is a totality that gradually and constantly takes
shape through the various relations of its parts. However, in the transition from
a ‘false’ to a ‘true’ totality, an intermediate phase of division is inevitable. This is
the phase in which the reduction-based totality has already been dismantled, but
the relation-based one has not yet been built. Such a stage corresponds to the
conclusion of the first part of Der Stern der Erlösung.
In what can be defined as a ‘destroy-to-rebuild’ approach, the first part of
Rosenzweig’s book describes the theoretical path that leads from the idealist
uni-totality to a triad of separated elements which are, however, already inclined
to enter into relations with one another. In short: it is the pars destruens of
Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking.’ Arguments against the false totality of idealism
could come from many different angles, because any element, once consid-
ered in its irreducibility, would be able to put the very concept of an all-em-
bracing totality into question. Basically, each of the three spheres could serve as
such an element and thus be taken as a starting point for criticizing the totality.
Nonetheless, Rosenzweig follows Søren Kierkegaard on this point and chooses
to start from the sphere of the human, more precisely, from the notion of ‘single
individual’ as irreducible to a theoretical uni-totality.
65 In the introduction Über die Möglichkeit das All zu erkennen (On the Possibility of
Knowing the All) (GS 2: 3–24), Rosenzweig starts his inquiry by addressing the human
being, he goes on to examine the world, and concludes by dealing with God. In every
other section of Der Stern der Erlösung, however, Rosenzweig follows the reverse
order: God is always discussed first, followed by world and human being. This differ-
ence may be due to the fact that it is the notion of ‘single individual’ that, emerging
from the sphere of the human, makes the uni-totality collapse. In other words, the
emergence of human individuality is the first step in what Rosenzweig presents as an
anti-totalitarian process, at the end of which the very notions of ‘totality’ or ‘All’ become
untenable. That means that the sphere of the human is the first to detach from the ide-
alistic system, thus opening the way for the other two spheres to do the same. After the
All has been completely shattered (zerschlagen) and the three spheres—elements or
Urphänomene—have acquired autonomy from the system, they become indifferent to
and interchangeable with one another, so that the specific sequence they are considered
turns out to be irrelevant (see 91–92).
72 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
everything was System here and System there. Now, no one mentions the System
anymore” (Kierkegaard 1847b: 163). But, taking polemical aim at the system is
tantamount to criticizing idealism in general, since it is essentially systematic.
A system is a logical-rational structure resting on the postulate that everything
can be accounted for through the exercise of reason. Kierkegaard aims at dis-
proving this assumption by emphasizing a category that, like the individual, is
always something other, something more than whatever system rationality may
state about it. Obviously, it takes no more than a single element eluding the
totality to deprive it of its status as ‘all-embracing.’
One of the ways rationality works is by predicating attributes to a subject.66
Through this operation, the subject is included in or is said to be part of the
general class represented by the predicate term. For example, in the sentence
‘Socrates is mortal,’ the particular subject ‘Socrates’ is said to be part of the gen-
eral class of ‘mortal beings.’ A purely rational view sees in this mechanism the
way for every possible subject—even an individual—to be thoroughly described
by an adequately long sequence of predicates. But, against this view, Kierkegaard
thinks of the single individual as an entity that is constitutively irreducible to
rationality. With reference to what has been said above, individual irreducibility
means that no matter how many general terms may be put together in a predi-
cation process, there will never be enough of them to properly render the com-
plexity of a single human being.
Rosenzweig’s appropriation of Kierkegaard’s criticism represents the first
step towards dismantling the notion of totality and thus the systematic way of
thinking in general. Conceived in terms of ‘single individual,’ the human being—
the sphere of the human—always escapes the grasp of rationality and constitu-
tively extends beyond any rational structure. A system, in other words, may be
able to explain everything, except for the single individual, which will always
show at least an irrational side, incompatible with a well-organized net of logical
relations. The point is, then, that the single human being frustrates any system-
atic aspiration for exhaustiveness: “The human being, in the simple uniqueness
of his own being […] strode out of the world that knew itself as thinkable, strode
out of the All of philosophy” (GS 2: 10). As a result, “the All can no longer claim
to be all” (12).
66 The word ‘subject’ is not considered here in its philosophical meaning of ‘conscious
being.’ It is rather meant in its grammatical acceptation of ‘who or what a sentence is
about.’
Rosenzweig Versus Idealism I: Elements 73
thought can account but for a part of being, while another part is constitutively
out of its reach. More precisely, thought can describe the rational, that is rational-
izable, part of being, but in order to approach the other part, that is the irrational
one, a movement beyond rational thought becomes necessary, that is, a move-
ment beyond logic, toward what Rosenzweig calls ‘meta-logic.’
24–25). Such an eternal substance cannot be but God, whose existence is then
inferred from the logical necessity of an origin for movement.
If the Aristotelian ‘unmoved mover’ represents a conception of God that
is derived from the sphere of the natural-worldly, medieval and modern
philosophers tried to achieve the same goal by starting from the sphere of the
human. More precisely, the ontological argument they developed can be con-
sidered the fruit of their efforts to prove God’s existence through the sole use
of human reason. Id quo maius cogitari nequit is the formula adopted to define
God: ‘that than which a greater cannot be conceived.’ (see Anselm of Canterbury,
Proslogion, II). And, given the identity of being and thought which a large part of
philosophy has always supported, ‘the greatest’ in thought must be ‘the greatest’
in being too. By this phrase a perfect being is meant, which, precisely because it
is perfect, cannot lack anything, not even existence. Ergo: God, as ‘the greatest,’
as perfect, must exist.
From Rosenzweig’s perspective, both attempts to grasp God’s existence
through reason lead to a form of knowledge that is not ‘independent,’ because
what is known about God rests always on one of the other two spheres. In other
words, if God is the conclusion of an argument, its premises are to be found in the
world or in human reason. However, the meaning of this lack of independence
needs clarifying. This is not to be understood in the sense that God is just the
necessary outcome of natural laws—as a misunderstanding of the cosmological
argument might suggest—or that God is just a product of human reason—as one
could erroneously infer from the ontological argument. In fact, both arguments
have never intended to challenge God’s independence. They refer to the knowl-
edge one may have of God, not to God himself. They provide a form of knowl-
edge that may be about God, but certainly does not come from God.68
Another problem Rosenzweig pinpoints in ‘the unmoved mover’ and ‘the
most perfect being’ is that they address only the essence of God, that is they
give—or try to give—a definition of what God is—or is supposed to be. But God,
like the single human being, is not reducible to his rationally conceivable es-
sence. Pure rationality cannot properly describe the single individual, and all the
more so does it fail in describing God. It does not matter if rational reasoning
68 On the contrary, the kind of knowledge Rosenzweig has in mind and sets in opposi-
tion to what he criticizes here is derived from the concept of revelation. Revelation,
for Rosenzweig, provides a form of knowledge that is certainly about God, but at the
same time, it also comes from God. On this topic, see the section called Between God
and Human Being. The Path of Revelation.
Rosenzweig Versus Idealism II: Nothingness and Irrationality 77
Nothingness
Regarding the concept of nothingness, some terminological clarification is
required, as the term ‘Nichts’ has at least three different meanings in Rosenzweig’s
conception.69
In the first acceptation of the term, ‘Nichts’ means ‘death.’ Or, more pre-
cisely: one of the ways to conceive of death. It is the approach of systematic phi-
losophy, based upon the notion of uni-totality. In Rosenzweig’s view, philosophy’s
aim is to oppose the inborn human fear of death. In order to get rid of this fear,
death must be rendered harmless, equated with nothingness, and eventually
abolished altogether. However, not every kind of nothingness is abolishable and,
for complete abolishment, some requisites must be satisfied, to wit: unity and
universality. The kind of nothingness death must be equated with is “the one
and universal night of nothing” (GS 2: 4), because only one and universal noth-
ingness can be seen as “pure emptiness, complete absence of determination and
content” (W 5: 83). And it is only as void, emptiness, absence that the nothing-
ness of death can be eradicated for good.
The second meaning Rosenzweig ascribes to the word ‘Nichts’ is also ‘death,’
but this time it is meant in an utterly different sense than the previous one: “In
the dark background of the world there rise up […] a thousand deaths; instead of
the one nothing that would really be nothing, a thousand nothings rise up, which
are something just because they are many” (GS 2: 5). In this case, death and
nothingness are considered in light of multiplicity and determination, instead of
unity and universality. It is worth noting that, in this context, multiplicity implies
determination, because without it—without internal distinction and reciprocal
delimitation70 among its elements—multiplicity would turn into a unique, indis-
tinct, undetermined entity. A different kind of nothingness emerges then, which,
being determined—that is a bearer of determination—cannot be considered
‘pure emptiness’ and, therefore, cannot be abolished.
The third form of nothingness does not refer to death, but is the particular
presupposition of each sphere—human, world, God. Considered outside the
uni-totality, each sphere “can only be reduced back to itself. Each is itself essence.
Each is itself substance” (GS 3: 144).71 That each sphere is a substance means that
69 For a fine analysis of the different forms of nothingness, see Bertolino (2000) and
(2005). Compare also Fortis (2010a).
70 Broadly speaking, ‘determination’ can be defined as the drawing of a conceptual
boundary around a portion of reality.
71 In expounding this conception, Rosenzweig refers to, and explicitly mentions, Spinoza,
whose definition of substance is ‘cause of itself ’ (causa sui): “By substance I mean that
Rosenzweig Versus Idealism II: Nothingness and Irrationality 79
they do not need a systematic mechanism for their concepts to be formed; that
they do not presuppose a systematic totality to be embedded in. There is nothing
they are derived from and therefore—turning the sentence around—they are
derived from nothing. But—and here is the crucial point—the kind of nothing-
ness that can act as an origin for each of the three spheres must necessarily bear
and be capable of determination. More precisely, the particular nothingness
behind each sphere is potential determination, while the specific sphere it gives
origin to is actual determination.
To sum up, Rosenzweig takes into account three different kinds of nothing-
ness: (1) the one and universal nothingness of death in general; (2) the mul-
tiple and particular nothingness of each and every individual death; and (3) the
particular nothingness the particular something of each sphere originates from.
Only the first kind can be abolished, because its general, abstract character
implies a lack of determination, and, without determination, nothing can pre-
vent its elimination. The second and the third kinds of nothingness, however, are
determined. And their determination is an insurmountable obstacle to any at-
tempt to abolish them: precisely because they are determined, they are something
and, being something, they cannot be banished or ignored.
For Rosenzweig, the only kind of nothingness that can be found in reality is
a particular one (meanings 2 and 3), while a universal nothingness (meaning
1) is just a product of thought, an abstraction performed for the sole purpose of
making it eliminable. From this point of view, then, philosophy’s path is clearly
an abstracting one. It starts from the determined nothingness or death that can
be found in reality and turns it into a universal concept in order to obtain its
eliminability and, eventually, its elimination. In a word, it is a movement from
the concrete-particular to the abstract-universal. Rosenzweig, on the other
hand, follows the same path backwards. By criticizing universal nothingness, he
converts it back to its original form as particular and determined, so that his
rehabilitation of nothingness can be also seen as a rehabilitation of concreteness,
against the abstracting tendency of philosophy.
The third kind of nothingness is potentiality for its particular something to
arise. In this context, the mathematical notion of ‘differential’ acts as a model for
the process through which a particular something emerges from its particular
nothingness: “The differential combines in itself the properties of the nothing
which is in itself and is conceived through itself; that is, that the concept of which does
not require the concept of another thing from which it has to be formed” (Spinoza
1677: def. 3).
80 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
on’ and ‘adjacent to’ the nothingness, without being nothing itself. It is a sort of
‘neighbor72 of the nothingness.’ The ‘no’ is intangible like an action or an event.
The ‘yes’ is stable and solid like a substratum.73
Irrationality
For Rosenzweig, the double nature, positive and negative, of each sphere is mir-
rored in the double approach, rational and irrational, to be assumed toward
them. The positive part in each sphere can be thoroughly analyzed through
rational thinking. As the static being that it is, it lends itself well to rationality’s
typical means, such as universal laws, definitions, general categories, logical
connections, etc. The negative part, on the contrary, in its character as a ten-
dency, dynamic and intangible, does not provide a sufficiently stable ground for
rationality to grasp it fully. It always places itself beyond the account rational
thought may try to give of it. So, along with ‘positive and negative’ and ‘static and
dynamic,’ another pair of conceptual opposites can contribute to describing the
two aspects at issue here: ‘rational and irrational’—that is within the boundaries
of reason and beyond those boundaries.
It is in relation to the latter conceptual pair that the second sub-strategy—
the above-mentioned ‘abolition of irrationality’—comes in. It consists in philo-
sophical thought giving consideration only to the rational part of each sphere,
excluding on principle the irrational one. Philosophy, and especially idealism,
has always assigned a specific field of study to each sphere. In Rosenzweig’s
terminology, they are: ethics, dealing with human being; logic, as science of
the world; and physics, focusing on God.74 Rosenzweig argues, however, that
these branches of philosophical knowledge have always given but a partial ac-
count of their specific subject matters, only ever focusing on their rational part.
Trendelenburg
Trendelenburg’s critique of Hegel can be schematized in two conceptual points: (1)
the distinction, Aristotelian in origin, between contradiction (Widerspruch,
logische Negation) and contraposition (Gegensatz, reale Opposition); and (2) the
acknowledgment of intuition (Anschauung) as essential to the dialectical process.
The foundation of Hegelianism is the equivalence of being and thought,
granted by their common dialectical structure: “the dialectical method affirms
a self-movement of pure thought, which, at the same time, claims to be a self-
production of being” (Trendelenburg 1840: 36). Being and thought develop
according to the same mechanism, based on the same basic principle of nega-
tion: “the concept that, like an inborn drive, makes the dialectical process advance
from one step to the next […] is negation” (43). And here is where the problem
at point (1) comes in. “What is the essence of dialectical negation? It may have
a double nature: either it is conceived as purely logical, so that it just negates
what the first concept affirms, without putting anything new in its place; or it
is thought of as real and the affirmative concept is negated by a new affirmative
Rosenzweig Versus Irrationalism 85
concept […]. In the first case, we speak of logical negation; in the second case, of
real opposition” (43–44).
The difference is particularly relevant, as logical negation—or contradiction—
is immanent to the concept it applies to, whereas real opposition—or contrapo-
sition—is transcendent to that concept. The adjective ‘immanent,’ in this case,
indicates that, given a certain concept, its contradiction does not need anything
else than the concept itself in order to be performed. As a purely logical oper-
ation, contradiction always falls within the ambit of what it contradicts; or, in
other words, it is immanent to what it contradicts. On the other hand, a contra-
position consists in introducing a new concept, which by no means can be simply
derived from the first one. The new concept is thus said to transcend the first one,
as no logical operation alone can bridge the gap between them. The only way to
perform a contraposition, and thus reach the new point it leads to, is by stepping
outside the conceptual boundaries of the starting position.
An example may illustrate this. The contradictory concept of the concept
‘white,’ is ‘not white.’ This can always be obtained by way of immanent nega-
tion, that is by performing a logical operation that does not resort to anything
else than the concept ‘white.’ Starting from ‘white,’ its contradictory concept ‘not
white’ does not need anything but ‘white’ itself as the basis to which the purely
logical operator of negation (¬) can be applied. Coming now to contraposition,
the opposite concept of ‘white’ is ‘black,’ and cannot be obtained without crossing
the conceptual boundaries of ‘white.’ Whereas ‘white’ implies ‘not white’—or, in
other words, ‘not white’ is immanent to ‘white’—there is nothing in the concep-
tual scope of ‘white’ that through logical operations only could possibly lead to
conceive ‘black’—which means: ‘black’ transcends ‘white.’
Trendelenburg asks: “Is it possible to reach a real opposition in a purely log-
ical way?” (45) And he answers: “To the extent that an opposition posits some-
thing new, intuition (Anschauung) is always involved” (ibid.). It may seem as
if Trendelenburg does not really answer the question, but in fact the notion of
intuition is here the key to Trendelenburg’s stance on Hegel. First of all, it must
be observed that Trendelenburg sees intuition as something partly empirical. As
such, it cannot qualify as a purely logical faculty, as logic and pure thought are
ideal rather than empirical. Now, if something alien to ideal thought—some-
thing like intuition, then—takes part in the process of opposition, this obvi-
ously does not develop in a purely logical way, and the answer to the question
above must be negative. Moreover, the notion of intuition introduces point (2) of
Trendelenburg’s argumentation.
The method of pure logic is not viable for developing opposition, because
the involvement of intuition places the whole process outside the boundaries
86 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
Kierkegaard
What pure thought must contaminate itself with in order to come to terms with
movement and becoming can be meant in different ways. It may be something
partly empirical, as intuition is for Trendelenburg. But it can also be something
irrational like human freedom in Kierkegaard’s view. In other words: the purity
of rational thought can be challenged from an empirical point of view, but also
from an irrational perspective.
Kierkegaard follows Trendelenburg in pointing out an irreconcilable differ-
ence between logic, rationality, and pure thought on the one hand, and move-
ment, becoming, and change on the other hand. In Begrebet Angest (The Concept
of Dread), Kierkegaard writes: “In logic every movement (if for an instant
one would use this term) is immanent, which in a deeper sense means that it
is no movement at all. That can be easily appreciated by considering that the
very concept of movement is a transcendence which can find no place in logic”
(Kierkegaard 1844b: 112). For Kierkegaard, every movement implies the recip-
rocal transcendence of its moments. And if one considers that logic can develop
only immanent connections, the obvious conclusion to be drawn from these
premises is, then, that logic and movement are incompatible.
Going deeper into the matter, one may ask what it means for movement to be
based on transcendence. Through the mediation of Trendelenburg, Kierkegaard’s
understanding of movement draws on Aristotle’s reflections. The Aristotelian
term for ‘movement’ is kinesis (κίνησις), described as a transition from ‘potenti-
ality’ (dynamis, δύναμις) to ‘actuality’ (energeia, ἐνέργεια or entelecheia, ἐντελέχε
ια). Potentiality—as possibility, capability—prepares the emergence of actuality,
while this, in turn, is the fulfillment of potentiality. The point is that a transition
from potentiality to actuality never occurs by necessity. Every step in a movement
88 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
can be seen as a form of actuality, prepared by the previous step, which thus serves
as a form of potentiality. However, an unbridgeable gap separates the two steps,
that is potentiality from actuality. And that gap is precisely what determines their
mutual transcendence.
Of course, potentiality anticipates the emergence of actuality, but it does not
mean that the latter is completely included in and thus reducible to the former.
On the contrary, each form of actuality must have at least something new—‘etwas
Neues’ is an expression also Trendelenburg uses, incidentally—compared to its
own potentiality: a certain element of novelty that makes it irreducible to its pre-
lude. The constitutive transcendence of movement, then, consists precisely in
such novelty and irreducibility. For an authentic movement to take place from
a condition A to another condition B, it is necessary that B places itself beyond
the limits of A—that B transcends A. Though a connection from A to B must
be possible, in B there must nonetheless be something that was not already
contained and anticipated in A. B, in other words, must bear some sort of nov-
elty, compared to A.
It is important to note that Kierkegaard’s reference to Aristotle does not con-
sist in merely reformulating Aristotelian arguments, but rather embedding them
in a different context. Whereas Aristotle is concerned with defining movement
in general, in all the different forms it may assume in the cosmos, Kierkegaard
focuses chiefly on existential movements, that is movements that involve the
existence of ‘the single individual.’ In this particular existential context, the nov-
elty that characterizes movement in general specifies itself in terms of human
freedom.77 Freedom is essentially unpredictable and, as such, a bearer of novelty.
That a movement from a condition A to a condition B occurs through an act
of freedom means that, though many aspects of B are already present, and thus
anticipated, in A, not every aspect of B is. And there is always something by
virtue of which B can still be said to transcend A.78
77 Aristotle too does not fail to acknowledge the ‘non-necessary’ character of movement,
but he does not come to conceive this ‘non-necessity’ in terms of existential freedom.
In some cases—he says—the transition from potentiality to actuality does not occur by
necessity, but takes place through ‘yearning’ (órexis, ὄρεξις) or ‘intention’ (prohairesis,
προαίρεσις) (see Aristotle, Metaphysics: IX, 1048a 11). ‘Yearning’ and ‘intention’ may
hint at something that is close in meaning to the notion of freedom, but is not yet fully-
fledged freedom.
78 One of the most illuminating descriptions of the transcendence of freedom can be found
in the work of an Italian Kierkegaard scholar, Luigi Pareyson. He says that what rests
on an act of freedom “does not continue a series, it is not in continuity with anything
[…]. No preparation can anticipate it. It has no connection with what comes before
Rosenzweig Versus Irrationalism 89
it. It is a leap. […]. It does not tolerate the concept of causation, because it is not the
effect of a cause: it is absolutely undeducible: absolute surprise” (Pareyson 1995: 30).
90 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
this presumed movement comes actually to resemble its contrary, that is a state
of being.
Two opposite sets of notions can be finally delineated here. Such notions
as ‘movement,’ ‘unpredictability,’ ‘novelty,’ ‘freedom,’ and ‘existence’ clash with
‘logic,’ ‘predictability,’ ‘system,’ ‘necessity,’ and ‘abstract thought.’ The most rad-
ical incompatibility between thought and existence—the rational and the real, in
Hegel’s words—is thus affirmed. Kierkegaard summarizes his view in this lapi-
dary sentence: “The right thing to do is to say that there is something that cannot
be thought, namely, existing” (316).
Nietzsche
Kierkegaard speaks of a dichotomy between thought and existence. Nietzsche
radicalizes this same contrast by expressing it through the notions of ‘truth’ and
‘reality.’
For Nietzsche, philosophy has always conceived truth as the result of a rational
attempt to describe what and how reality really is. This does not mean that the
truth of reality is actually reached in every rational process, as philosophy has
always been aware of the risk of faulty reasoning. However, at least the possibility
of a convergence between truth and reality has always been a stable presupposi-
tion for philosophical reflections. Now, this possibility is exactly what Nietzsche
calls into question. The problem is that truth and reality are for him so radically
different from each other that the former is by nature incapable of adequately
expressing the latter. More precisely, Nietzsche sees any attempt at accounting
for reality by means of rational truth as doomed to failure: it would result in a
distorted account that misrepresents reality rather than revealing it.
The radical difference between truth and reality—which hinders a full adher-
ence of the former to the latter—can be expressed through such antonymous
adjectives as: ‘hard’ and ‘soft,’ or ‘rigid’ and ‘fluid.’ To declare Nietzsche’s position
outright: in his mind, truth is rigid, whereas reality is fluid. “What then is truth?
[A] sum of human relations which […], after long usage, seem to a people to be
fixed, canonical, and binding. Truths are illusions which we have forgotten are
illusions” (KGA 3.2: 374–375). Rather than reflecting reality genuinely, truth is
built up upon it, and subsequently stiffened in the course of time. But the reality
behind truth—that is that reality truth is supposed to render—is revealed to have
a fluid character. Nietzsche criticizes the artificial nature of truth, which, how-
ever rigid and stable it may seem, rests always “upon an unstable foundation,
and, as it were, on running water” (376)—that is, upon the fluidity of reality.
Rosenzweig Versus Irrationalism 91
Truth as Relation
‘Relation’ is the key notion Rosenzweig’s conception of truth is based on. In
fact, a brand new understanding of truth becomes necessary when it comes
to dealing with the same problems Hegel and Nietzsche address, if at the same
time the objectionable conclusions they come to are to be avoided. More pre-
cisely, the problem of division, which is so essential in Hegel’s thought, can be
solved in a non-Hegelian way, that is, without conceiving of truth as an abstract
self-movement of thought. Similarly, that hierarchical attitude of thought which
Nietzsche criticizes so harshly can be overcome without resorting to the all-
out abolition of truth that characterizes Nietzscheanism. In Rosenzweig’s view,
thinking of truth in relational terms—rather than uni-totalitarian and/or hierar-
chical—is the crucial move for showing a way out of the impasse philosophy, in
its Hegelian or Nietzschean extremes, has fallen into.
Hegel conceives of an all-embracing truth, whose distinguishing trait is its
internal dialectical progress: an abstract self-movement of thought that generates
reality by generating itself at the same time. For Rosenzweig, however, Hegel’s
solution creates more problems than it can—or is intended to—solve. Divisions
between different elements of reality may be mended, but the price to pay is
the rise of a new division between abstract truth and concrete reality. Nietzsche’s
criticism is mostly leveled against this gap, which he considers a form of hier-
archy. However, the solution he proposes turns out to be worse than the original
problem. In particular, Nietzsche’s destructive attitude against hierarchies ends
up also involving the very notion of truth, which he sees as an expression of hier-
archical thought. The risk in Nietzscheanism is that freedom from hierarchies
may degenerate into a relativistic absence of truth.
In this context, the challenge for Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ is a very dif-
ficult and ambitious one: it must reconcile divisions, without conceiving truth
in terms of an abstract system; and it must reject hierarchies, without rejecting
Truth as Relation 93
truth altogether. The notion of ‘relation’ plays the decisive role in formulating a
new conception that is really up to this challenge—to wit, the conception of a
‘relational truth.’ This can be defined in both a negative and a positive way: ex
negativo, by negatively marking its differences from other positions; ex positivo,
by positively describing its characterizing features.
Ex Negativo
Like Hegel, Rosenzweig aims at bridging divisions between the different spheres
of reality. But, whereas Hegel does this by means of a common logical structure
(the dialectic) which underlies every sphere, Rosenzweig bases his conception
on connecting the spheres through relational ties. Hegel’s strategy consists in
proving that the problem of divisions is not really a problem at all. The suppos-
edly separated spheres turn out to be actually different aspects of a single sphere,
different expressions of a unique principle, and their separation is revealed as
only apparent. In other words, Hegel solves the problem of divisions by means
of reduction, by showing that however different and unrelated the spheres may
seem, they are always parts of the same uni-totality, the same monistic-totalitarian
form of truth. The problem is that for Rosenzweig a truth thus conceived is overly
abstract, and therefore unable to properly account for reality.
Reduction is not the only way to oppose divisions, though. These can also
be overcome by recognizing connections between the spheres. The difference
between Hegel’s idealism and Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ on this point lies in
their different approaches of tackling the problem: Hegel applies a reductio ad
unum to the whole of reality, conceiving uni-totality as the ultimate truth and
separation as a fallacious concept. Rosenzweig establishes connections instead,
overcoming separation through the relational network each sphere develops
with the others. What emerges is a primacy of relation itself over the elements that
are in relation, as it has already been observed: “God, world and man […] are in
themselves nothing. They only become something in relationship” (Samuelson
1994: 33); they acquire their meaning only when considered in their relational
dimension.
For Hegel, divisions are overcome by realizing that a reduction-based uni-
totality has primacy over them. For Rosenzweig the same result is achieved
through the central role he assigns to relation. What makes a relation-based
truth valuable is that for Rosenzweig reality is also relation-based. As a sort of
‘common denominator’ between truth and reality, the notion of ‘relation’ allows
the shortcomings of the idealist approach to be avoided, to wit: the abstractness
of truth and its consequent detachment from the concreteness of reality. “Truth
94 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
is that alone which is entirely one with reality” (GS 2: 428), Rosenzweig says.
But the kind of truth he means in this passage is certainly not the idealistic kind,
since it must undergo a radical shift: from a reduction-based to a relation-based
approach—from the idealistic, false All, to the true, internally relational All (see
ibid.).79
Relational truth not only solves the problem of division without giving in to
abstractness, it also overcomes hierarchies without losing its character as truth.
Once again, it is the notion of ‘relation’ that allows for this double achievement: it
is deeply anti-hierarchical and yet still remains the distinguishing trait of truth.
In his struggle against hierarchies, Nietzsche recognizes the main property of
truth in that it tends to impose itself on reality, rather than expressing it faith-
fully. The solution he proposes, however, is overly drastic from a Rosenzweigian
point of view, as it consists in getting rid of the hierarchical imposition of truth,
that is by getting rid of truth itself. This definitely solves the problem, but also
leads to conceiving of reality in relativistic terms, in a way, that is, that threatens
to deprive reality of any structure and orientation.80
Relational truth is anti-hierarchical in at least two senses. In one sense, the
principle of relation is essentially at odds with that of reduction. Reduction lessens
the autonomy of each sphere by leading it back to another, higher-ranking sphere.
In Rosenzweig’s view, however, relation implies that autonomy, as authentic re-
lations can develop only between irreducible and equal-ranking spheres. On the
other hand, it must be observed that hierarchy is a direct consequence of reduc-
tion. In fact, the particular sphere the others are reduced to is given hierarchical
supremacy, precisely because of its prominent role as a terminus ad quem. But
the fact that a reduction cannot take place in a relational environment means
that the very precondition for a hierarchical order to be established is not satisfied
in this context—and therefore hierarchy itself is impossible.
In traditional philosophy, moreover, hierarchy develops not only between
the spheres, but also between truth and reality. The second meaning in which
Ex Positivo
It is easy to determine how Rosenzweig’s conception distinguishes itself from
Nietzsche’s: the ‘new thinking’ is still based on a form of truth, whereas Nietzsche
comes to the conclusion that the very notion of truth is no longer tenable. Less
easy, however, is a comparison between Rosenzweig and Hegel, because in this
case two opposite conceptions of truth are involved. More precisely, Rosenzweig’s
relational truth can be defined by means of theoretical features that are in exact
opposition to those defining idealistic truth. As an abstract self-movement of
thought, Hegelian truth is unitary, totalitarian, static,81 and purely theoretical.
On the other hand, Rosenzweigian truth consists of a concrete set of relations,
which, as such, imply the notion of otherness. Such a truth is then also dynamic
and evental, while its concreteness ties in with its essentially practical slant.
‘Relation’ overcomes the divisions between the three spheres but maintains
and even requires their reciprocal otherness. At a first rough glance, the two
notions of ‘division’ and ‘otherness’ seem more similar than they actually are. By
‘division,’ a radical separation is meant, whose main trait is a total lack of rela-
tion between the terms it refers to. ‘Otherness,’ on the other hand, is what makes
a relation authentic and meaningful. ‘Division’ is the opposite of ‘relation,’ as it
rules out on principle the very possibility of any interaction; but ‘otherness,’ far
from being at odds with ‘relation,’ is rather its primary condition, and there-
fore also the prerequisite of relational truth. Broadly speaking, an authentic rela-
tion can occur only between elements that are ‘other’ to each other, whereas this
would be impossible in a condition where a lack of otherness obtains. Obviously,
no relation is possible when only a single term is available.
Rosenzweig writes: “To discern God, the world, man, is to discern what they
do […] to each other and how they are affected by each other. […] if ‘in the
deepest depth’ the other were the same as myself, I could not love him, but only
myself ” (GS 3: 150). What Rosenzweig says about love actually applies to every
relation. For him, authentic relations can develop only on the basis of radical
otherness, while the opposite concept, sameness, makes any relation impossible.82
It is clear that this view represents a powerful critique directed at the very core
of idealism, which is based on such notions as ‘self-consciousness,’ ‘self-refer-
ence,’ ‘self-movement,’ etc. The prefix ‘self-’ indicates precisely a kind of internal
relation that is supposed to develop in a reflexive way, but for Rosenzweig reflex-
iveness is a synonym for sameness, so that in his view ‘reflexive relation’ is an
untenable contradiction in terms.83
Relation is basically ‘encounter with another’ and Rosenzweig thinks of such
encounter as a dynamic event—the second feature of his understanding of truth.
The notion of ‘relation,’ as such, does not imply a dynamic, evental character. In
principle, it could be conceived as a stable link that connects its terms statically
82 A simple geometric example can shed light on this point. A relation can be thought of
as a line segment and the terms in relation as the end points of the segment. For the
segment to exist, and for the relation to develop, it is necessary that the two end points
are not coincident, that is, that they are not the same point; rather, they must be other
to each other. As ordinary as this example may seem, it is not far from Rosenzweig’s
conception. If the Magen David represents reality and truth in the course of their
making—as it does in Der Stern der Erlösung—then it is necessary that its points are
not overlapping, i.e. there must be otherness between them.
83 “The need of an other” (GS 3: 151–152)—summarizes Rosenzweig—is what
distinguishes his ‘new thinking’ from the ‘old,’ idealistic thinking.
Truth as Relation 97
and permanently. But this is not the case in Rosenzweig’s view. For him, every-
thing that is, is in relationship to something else and in motion from an origin
to an end. Thinking of ‘relation’ in terms of ‘motion’ means that the features
of the latter concept are ascribed also to the former. Relations are then like
movements: irreducible to and undeducible from any previous state of things.
Kierkegaard’s influence is clear here; but while he summarizes all of this in his
conception of ‘freedom,’ Rosenzweig introduces a conceptual cognate: the no-
tion of ‘event’ (Ereignis).84
In general, an event can be defined as the occurrence of something unexpected
that breaks usual patterns and subverts previously stable structures. By applying the
notion of ‘event’ to those of ‘relation,’ ‘division,’ and ‘otherness,’ the following picture
can be delineated: ‘division’ describes the original condition that is revolutionized
by the event of relation; whereas relation itself, conceived of here in evental terms, is
the discriminating factor between the previous state of ‘division’—which is by def-
inition alien to relation—and the subsequent development of ‘otherness’—which,
instead, is a key element of relation and can be considered the new form ‘division’
assumes, after being touched by an event. In short: ‘Otherness’ is after the event of
relation what ‘division’ is before that event. The ‘event’ converts ‘division,’ that is non-
relational separateness, into ‘otherness,’ that is relational separateness.
This latter sentence allows attention to be drawn to another important aspect
of the event—and thus of relational truth as being essentially evental: its retro-
active effect. An event determines a transition from one condition to another.
When an event occurs, something happens in a context, but, at the same time, it
also happens to that context, changing it radically. An event, then, not only occurs
in reality, but it also changes the very perspective from which reality is observed.
Before the event, as absolutely undeducible and unpredictable, there is no sign of
its imminent happening, but from an ‘after-event’ point of view, what precedes
the event comes to be seen in an utterly different light: as an “anticipation or,
more accurately, [a] foundation, the exhibiting of pre-conditions” (GS 2: 119). In
other words: the attribution of a preparatory value to what precedes an event is a
retroactive effect of the event itself.85
84 Luigi Pareyson’s Ontology of Freedom (1995) is one of the most radical attempts to con-
ceive of freedom and event in their ontological relationship. A comparison between
Pareyson and Rosenzweig can be found in Bangerl 2006.
85 This aspect, which is here described in general terms, finds particular application in
the relationship between the Rosenzweigian notions of ‘creation’ and ‘revelation,’ as
well as in the parallel relationship he recognizes between philosophy and theology (see
the following parts).
98 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
86 “Behold God, stronger than me, who comes to rule over me.” The verse is taken from
Dante’s La Vita Nuova (Alighieri 1294: II.4).
87 The notion of Bewährung is given careful consideration in the field of Rosenzweig
studies. Already in 1950 Will Herberg stresses the importance of this concept as well
as its practical implications: “This conception of ‘making true’ (bewähren) by com-
mitment, decision, and venture is at the heart of the ‘new thinking.’ It is […] not the-
oretical knowledge but ‘existential’ knowledge—that is, knowledge of such a kind that
it is only fully realized as practical decision” (Herberg 1950: 544). Another important
contribution to this topic is made by Emil Fackenheim, who specifies this practical
character in terms of a shift in perspective “from the centrality of the Torah itself to
the centrality of an Israel witnessing to the Torah” (Fackenheim 1982: 81). That means
that the stress is not on truth and knowledge in themselves (the Torah itself), but on
Truth as Relation 99
their practical realization in concrete life (that bears witness of the Torah). Other, more
recent interpretations are, for example: Gibbs (2000), Rashkover (2005), Bonola (2008),
Baccarini (2011), and Kavka (2012). Beyond their differences, what they all seem to
agree on is the prominent role of praxis in Rosenzweig’s conception of truth. This is
the most relevant aspect to the present work.
88 It is “a part that verifies (bewährt) the whole truth instead of denying it” (GS 2: 438).
89 “Which acts, then? I said the big ones. It does not say much, though. […]. Which acts,
then? The living (lebendig) ones. It is about creative (schöpferisch) acts, acts that produce
life (Leben schaffen), not only outside of us, but also in ourselves. The acts that turn us into
something different from what we are” (GS 3: 590–591). In Das Büchlein vom gesunden
und kranken Menschenverstand, Rosenzweig gives an example of what he means, when he
writes: “The child wonders at the mature man. But the question that lies at the roots of his
wonder ends up answering itself, when the child grows into a mature man himself ” (B: 29).
This passage gives a glimpse of Rosenzweig’s conception of truth. At first, adulthood may
be a mystery to the child, but the truth of adulthood gradually reveals itself to him, as he
himself becomes a mature person. Moreover, it is important to notice that becoming an
adult is not a merely passive process. On the contrary, it requires action. In order to grow
up, and finally understand the truth of adulthood, the child has to perform acts that are
able to change him, i.e. those acts that, according to Rosenzweig, “produce life”.
90 In Der Ster der Erlösung, Rosenzweig writes: “This unity is, as it is in becoming, a
‘becoming unity’ ” (GS 2: 456). The difference between an already given unity and a
100 The Third Way: Rosenzweig
process of unification is even clearer in Die Wissenschaft von Gott (1921), where “the
(echad, the unique one) is always conceived of in terms of (ichud, unification)”
(GS 3: 622).
91 On account of this relationship between theory and praxis, some scholars highlight an
affinity between Rosenzweig’s and William James’ positions. For both, truth is consid-
ered the result of a practical process, without which theory alone would be meaningless.
See, for example, Gibbs (2000: 244) and Bonola (2008: 83).
92 What Rosenzweig means in this case is the most universal, general, and therefore
generic truth about God: “that he ‘is’ ” (GS 1.2: 1002).
93 “One’s own experience, utterly inexpressible, is the fulfillment and realization of
expressible truth. All that is needed is—to have this experience (Man muss sie nur—
machen)” (ibid.).
94 “For us, that universal theological connection [the divine-human connection] comes
alive only if and when we can fulfill it as a single precept” (ibid.).
Theory and Praxis 101
from both idealism and irrationalism. The three spheres are based on an internal
relation between two terms. Only the ‘new thinking’ is able to grasp each sphere
in both its essential components, while idealism and irrationalism focus one-sid-
edly on one component only.
Internal relations characterize the three spheres, but, at the same time, these
are also involved in external relations that Rosenzweig calls ‘paths:’ creation, rev-
elation, and redemption. On account of this, reality and truth take shape as a set
of relations between elements that are basically relations themselves: a configu-
ration that can be described, appropriately enough, as ‘relations of relations.’ In
this context, an examination of the three paths allows the specific features that
define relational truth to be positively delineated. More precisely: Rosenzweig’s
conception of creation lays the stress on the notion of otherness as constitutive of
relational truth; his account of revelation emphasizes its evental character; while
the practical-eschatological inclination of relational truth emerges clearly from
Rosenzweig’s understanding of redemption.
The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s
‘New Thinking’
In Rosenzweig’s thought, the first level of reality and truth consists of the
three spheres of God, world, and human being. Each of them is composed of
two dimensions, developed along the so-called ‘way of yes’ and ‘way of no.’
Ontologically and epistemologically speaking,95 these two ways could not be
more different from each other, as the ‘yes’ corresponds to a static substantiality,
while the ‘no’ indicates a dynamic action. In their interaction, the two opposite
ways provide the stable enclosedness in itself (Geschlossenheit in sich selbst) that
constitutes each sphere as an independent and unitary substance. In order to
describe this internal relation, Rosenzweig employs a sort of wordplay with the
German words Tatsache (Fact), Tat (Action), and Sache (Thing). The ‘no’ shows
the characteristics of an action (Tat); the ‘yes’ recalls the substantiality of a thing
(Sache); and together they form the closed unity of a matter of fact (Tatsache)
(see GS 2: 270).
Reading idealism and irrationalism through the lens of Rosenzweig’s own
categories, idealism can be seen as accounting mainly for the ‘way of yes,’ the
Sache, that is the positive, static part of each sphere, while neglecting the neg-
ative part. Irrationalism, on the other hand, seems to focus only on the ‘way of
no,’ the Tat, that is the negative, dynamic, and fleeting component of each sphere,
while ignoring, if not even rejecting, the positive dimension. What distinguishes
Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking,’ then, is its capability of accounting for both ‘yes
and no’—Tat and Sache, which together form a Tatsache. The ‘new thinking’—as
suggested in this book’s title—takes shape as a sort of tertium datur between
Hegel’s idealism and Nietzsche’s irrationalism, whose accounts thus turn out to
be opposite, but equally one-sided positions.
Based on the broader spectrum the ‘new thinking’ covers—‘yes’ and ‘no’
instead of only ‘yes,’ or only ‘no’—it is possible to highlight another impor-
tant facet of its nature. Not only does the ‘new thinking’ distinguish itself from
95 The three Urphänomene, the particular forms of nothingness they come from, and the
ways that bridge the gap between nothing and something have to be considered both
ontologically and epistemologically—as Rosenzweig says: “We must well admit [that]
to the nothing of our knowledge corresponds a real nothing (ein wirkliches Nichts)”
(GS 2: 96). In a word, ontological and epistemological perspectives converge. See also
Pollock (2009: 160 ff.).
104 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
idealism and irrationalism, the particular mode of such distinction can now also
be further specified: it does not follow the conceptual model summarized in the
correlative pair ‘neither… nor…;’ rather, it proves to be in line with the conjunc-
tion structure ‘both… and….’ Plainly put, Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ is a third
way, not because it is something completely different from the other two ways—
which would be properly described through the double exclusion of a ‘neither…
nor…’—but because it represents a combination of their opposite positions—
hence the inclusive tendency expressed in a ‘both… and….’96
Before turning to a thorough description of the three spheres—illustrating
for each of them how Rosenzweig’s account can integrate idealist and irrational
elements—it must be pointed out that a three-terms comparison—between ide-
alism, ‘new thinking,’ and irrationalism—can be carried out only in relation to
the sphere of the human and the sphere of the worldly. As to the sphere of the
divine, only idealism and ‘new thinking’ can be directly compared, because irra-
tionalism, considered in its Nietzschean form, does not provide any specific
conception of God or the divine. On the contrary, it argues for their definitive
dissolution.
The Divine
In Rosenzweig’s view, the first way that contributes to form the Urphänomen of
God is the ‘yes.’ It consists in going from nothing to something by means of affir-
mation, that is by establishing a state that acts as a substantial basis for the whole
sphere of the divine. In Rosenzweig’s own words, it is the “affirmation of the not-
nothing [that] circumscribes as its inner boundary the infinity of all that is not
nothing. It is an affirmed infinity: God’s infinite essence, his infinite factuality,
his physis” (GS 2: 29). By God’s physis a pure ontological position is meant—in
the original sense of the Latin positum, from ponere, to place, to put, to lay. It is
the Sache-part of what is going to be a final Tat-sache. It is “God’s simple and
infinitely affirmed Being” (30), a static and placid background, a passive ‘being
situated,’ an “unmoved, infinite being” (ibid.).
“[T]he ‘no’ is just as original as the ‘yes’ […]. It presupposes nothing but the
nothing” (ibid.). Both ‘yes’ and ‘no’ emerge from the original, particular nothing
of God, but the ‘no’ is, obviously, completely different from the ‘yes:’ “The ‘yes’ in
God was his infinite essence. His free ‘no,’ springing forth from the negation of
96 The same topic is discussed in more detail in the section Between and Beyond Hegel
and Nietzsche.
The Divine 105
his nothing, is not itself essence; for it does not contain a ‘yes;’ it is and remains
a pure ‘no,’ it is not ‘so;’ only ‘not otherwise’ ” (31). The ‘no’ has nothing positive
and lacks therefore any substantiality. It heads toward the something by rejecting
the nothingness. From this point of view, it is a purely denying gesture, a finite
act of negation. It is ‘punctual’ in the linguistic acceptation of the term, as an
action without extension and/or duration. The ‘no’ represents the dynamic prin-
ciple in God97 and—as Rosenzweig asks rhetorically—“what name could we give
to it if not that of freedom?” (32).98
Metaphorically speaking, God’s physis is an “infinite sea” (ibid.), while God’s
freedom is an “inexhaustible source” (ibid.). The static ‘yes’ and the dynamic ‘no’
combine together as contrasting forces that reach equilibrium precisely through
their contrast to each other. “Freedom aims at infinity. […]. As the infinite object
to which it aspires, it finds only the essence [God’s physis]” (33). In approaching
God’s physis, however, God’s freedom finds a growing resistance that makes it
weaker and weaker, so that “at the focal point of the infinity of the inert ‘yes,’ the
infinitely weakened power of the infinitely active ‘no’ would be extinguished”
(ibid.). The dynamic ‘no’ encounters the static ‘yes,’ or in other words, the Tat
reaches the Sache. The result is a ‘yes and no,’ a Tat-sache, that Rosenzweig names
‘God’s vitality’ (Lebendigkeit). This constitutes a closed sphere, which has its own
substantiality provided by God’s physis, but is also internally animated by God’s
freedom.
The double character of what is ‘static and dynamic’ can be seen as mirroring
the conceptual pair of ‘rational and irrational.’ This is probably one of the aspects
where Kierkegaard’s influence on Rosenzweig is most evident. For Kierkegaard,
only stasis is rational, in the sense that it can be logically grasped, while move-
ment and freedom—which Kierkegaard considers akin to each other—are said to
be ‘irrational,’ as they are always beyond reason. Mutatis mutandis, the static and
positive ‘yes’ for Rosenzweig is also rational because it is a condition, a state, and
as such, it lends itself to be treated with rationality’s usual means (logical laws,
general categories, etc.). On the other hand, the ‘no,’ as negative and dynamic, is
irrational in the Kierkegaardian sense that rationality cannot grasp it fully. Being
97 “In the Yes, there is nothing that pushes out beyond itself; this is the ‘so.’ The movement
must therefore come from the No” (GS 2: 30).
98 Actually, many other names could be found for the original ‘no.’ But Rosenzweig’s word
choice testifies to his conception of freedom as a dynamic principle, which, like for
Kierkegaard but unlike for Hegel, turns out to be related to such notions as ‘movement,’
‘motion,’ ‘change,’ or ‘action.’
106 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
an action, a motion, the ‘no’ is always a step ahead of any attempt to account for
it in a rational way.
As a compound of physis and freedom, ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ the static and the dynamic,
the Urphänomen of God turns out also to be a compound of rational and irra-
tional dimensions. This double character can now be assumed as a paradigm
to interpret other rival positions, to wit: (1) the idealistic, Hegelian account of
God tends to focus mainly on its rational component—that is the Rosenzweigian
‘yes’—while being unable to provide a proper account for God’s freedom—that is
the Rosenzweigian ‘no.’ (2) On the other hand, the irrational, Nietzschean view
rejects the very concept of God and the divine, so that it may seem impossible
to make a comparison in this case. However, one may observe that Nietzsche’s
rejection is based on a consequence of his particular understanding of freedom—
which corresponds to the ‘no,’ in Rosenzweig’s terms—so that some remarks can
be made in this case too.
Let us begin with Hegel. He conceives of God as absolute spirit, and the deeply
rational character that typifies it comes to be a key also to understanding his
conception of God. More precisely, one may argue that by equating God and
absolute spirit, Hegel ends up taking only those rational aspects into consider-
ation that in Rosenzweig’s view would fall within the ambit of the ‘yes.’ What can
be now considered an excessive focus on rationality results in an all-out ban of
irrationality from the Hegelian system. Even the notion of ‘freedom,’ which for
Rosenzweig represents the irrational, dynamic ‘no’ opposing the rational, static
‘yes,’ has a completely different meaning in Hegel. He thinks of freedom in such
a way that it is made compatible with the general rational tenor of his system.
For Hegel, freedom is even included in the field of rationality, as the result of a
rational process of determination.
Hegel conceives of the development of the spirit as basically self-reflection. The
prefix ‘self’ indicates a movement of thought that makes it independent from any-
thing other than itself, and it is precisely in this sense that the spirit can be said
to be free, because the progressive removal of otherness it enacts corresponds to
its advancement toward independence and autonomy. Hegel writes: “[The spirit]
is in and with itself. […]. Now, this is freedom, for if I am dependent, I refer to
something else that I am not. […] I am free, on the contrary, if I am with myself.”
(W 12: 30). In other words, ‘being with oneself ’ (bei sich selbst sein) is freedom,
and it consists in overcoming otherness, in subduing and appropriating it. The
spirit becomes free by relating to otherness in such a way that this is not per-
ceived as an obstacle on the spirit’s way to the absolute, but rather as a develop-
mental stage of that way.
The Divine 107
As Rosenzweig himself says: “for [our conception of] God’s freedom, we can
follow in the footsteps of Nietzsche” (GS 2: 20). In this view, Nietzsche’s famous
sentence ‘God is dead’ is not seen as a neutral refusal to believe in God, but rather
can be interpreted as the result of a competitive relationship between divine and
human being. This is at least Rosenzweig’s interpretation of Nietzsche, which is
based on a crucial passage from Also sprach Zarathustra: “If there were gods, how
could I bear not to be God?” (KGA 6.1: 106).102 According to this reading, then,
God represents a threat to the human being, who “looks at the divine freedom
with furious hate” (GS 2: 21), because, if a being like God exists, it must certainly
have infinite freedom, and this cannot but constitute a limitation on human
freedom, which is by nature finite.
In Die fröhliche Wissenschaft, Nietzsche connects God’s death to the opening
of an infinite number of choices for human beings—or at least, for the ‘free
spirits:’ “at hearing the news that ‘the old god is dead,’ we philosophers and
‘free spirits’ feel illuminated by a new dawn; our heart overflows with gratitude,
amazement, forebodings, expectation—finally the horizon seems clear again”
(KGA 5.2: 256). God’s death can thus be considered the removal of an obstacle
for human freedom, which is now seen in terms of self-affirmation103 and as
such, perceives other freedoms as possible threats and limitations—especially if
they are infinite. It is precisely for this reason that the particular aspect of God
which more than any other needs abolishing in this view is his infinite freedom.
Rosenzweig seems to have this in mind when writing: “It is not God’s being, but
God’s freedom that leads him [the human] to protect himself in this way” (GS
2: 21), that is to protect his own freedom against what could limit and frustrate it.
102 This sentence is also quoted in Rosenzweig’s Der Stern der Erlösung (GS 2: 20) with
a slight variation. The original, Nietzschean version refers to ‘gods’ (plural), while
Rosenzweig talks about ‘God’ (singular). In this particular context, the difference
appears to be irrelevant.
103 The antagonism between divine and human freedom, as it is hinted at in Der Stern
der Erlösung, can be explained on the basis of a conception of Nietzschean freedom
as self-affirmation. However, Nietzsche’s view on freedom is more complex than it
appears in Rosenzweig’s account. Relatively recent works examine the topic in depth,
covering the whole range of its different aspects. Oaklander (1984), for example, deals
with Nietzsche’s different—and sometimes inconsistent—views on freedom. All the
contributions in Gemes and May (2009) tackle the notion of freedom in Nietzsche,
involving such other connected themes as: the constitution of selfhood and/or the
relationship between freedom and ethical ideals.
The Divine 109
104 It is worth noting that such relationships are corollaries of Kierkagaard’s general ac-
count of freedom, becoming, and irrationality, on one hand, and necessity, stasis, and
rationality, on the other hand. Kierkegaard writes: “No becoming is necessary; not
before becoming, for then it could not become, nor after, for then it would not have
become. All becoming takes place with freedom, not by necessity” (1844a: 69). For
both Kierkegaard and Rosenzweig, rationality is always based on a form of predict-
ability only necessity and stasis can provide. But when it comes to authentic becoming,
with its inherent freedom and unpredictability, the limitations of rationality emerge.
‘Irrationality’ refers then to the scope of what is beyond those limitations.
110 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
The Natural-Worldly
The same characterization that distinguishes Rosenzweig’s conception of God
from Hegel’s and Nietzsche’s remains valid also for the other two Urphänomene
and can thus be applied to the world and to the human being. Broadly speaking,
Hegel takes positions that, translated into Rosenzweigian terms, correspond in
each Urphänomen to the positive, rational pole of ‘yes;’ Nietzsche’s accounts of
the world and the human being, when compared with Rosenzweig’s, resemble
the negative, irrational ‘no’ of each sphere; while Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’
stands out precisely because of its ability to conceive ‘yes’ and ‘no’ in their interac-
tion. And ‘interaction’ is the key word here. Basically, it means that Rosenzweig’s
thought constitutes a third way between Hegel’s and Nietzsche’s; but more pre-
cisely, it is that particular kind of third way that consists in integrating the other
two ways, rather than rejecting them altogether.
In the specific case of the world, Rosenzweig identifies the ‘yes’-component as
logos and the ‘no’-component as worldly plenitude. In every sphere, the original
The Natural-Worldly 111
105 Or, depending on their specific philosophical view, some would maintain that
rationality’s aim is to impose an order on reality. However, it is not this divergence of
views at issue here.
The Natural-Worldly 113
106 Nach-denken is literally ‘after-thinking,’ that is a form of thinking that always comes
after its objects. The reasons for Hegel’s criticism become clear when one considers
that the constitutive lateness of reflection and the fact that it is preceded by something
else prevent thinking from being that original dimension of reality that it is supposed
to be in Hegel’s view.
114 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
107 With regard to Nietzsche’s view of reality as the irrational principle of ‘will to power,’
see, among others, Grimm (1977) (especially the first and second chapter) and
Williams (2001).
The Natural-Worldly 115
108 A particular truth like, for example, the assertion ‘this ball is red’ owes its meaning
to a pre-comprehension of such notions as ‘ball’ and ‘red,’ each of which, in turn,
implies the notions of ‘object,’ ‘form,’ and ‘space,’ as well as a certain familiarity with
the concepts of ‘color’ and ‘visuality.’ Moreover, the meaning of the logical operation
that ascribes the quality of ‘being red’ to the object ‘this ball’ must also be known for
that sentence to make sense. The point of this elementary example is then to show
that every truth—no matter how simple and banal—can be true only as a particular
expression of more general, universal truths.
116 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
109 “Hegel’s dialectic is not much different from a deductive process. Hegelian reasoning is
basically an argumentation in which conclusions are reached from premises. However,
the distinguishing trait of this method is that the consequences deduced from the
starting assumptions turn out to be in contradiction with those assumptions” (Cortella
1996: 211). See also Cortella (1995: 295–350).
The Human 117
The Human
Like the other two Urphänomene, the sphere of the human owes its ontolog-
ical conformation to the concurrence of two opposite dimensions: that deriving
from the original ‘yes’ and that developing along the ‘way of no.’ Though they
assume different forms according to the context they are embedded in, the ‘yes’
and the ‘no’ show specific traits that remain constant, irrespective of the partic-
ular Urphänomen they pertain to. More precisely, the ‘yes’ always gives rise to
a static essence, while the ‘no’ always lies at the roots of a dynamic action. The
former is characterized as something solid, concrete, tangible, while the latter
shows such features as a fleeting, intangible nature, imponderability, and a lack
of substantiality. Moreover, the combination of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ and the reciprocal
influence they exert on each other, provide each phenomenon with the internal
balance and the closedness in itself (Geschlossenheit in sich selbst) that make it a
self-contained sphere.
With regard to the human being, Rosenzweig maintains that human essence,
the ‘yes,’ is defined by transitoriness and particularity: the two main features that
distinguish the human being from God and the world: “What is this true being
of man? […]. Transitoriness (Vergänglichkeit), which is foreign to God and the
gods, and for the world is the disconcerting experience of its own, ever-renewed
force, for the human being is the abiding atmosphere that surrounds him, which
he inhales and exhales with every breath he takes. The human being is transitory,
being transitory is his essence” (68). God, as eternal being, cannot be transitory;
while the world sees the ephemeral and transitory as an internal force, that is, as
nothing more than an ingredient, which as such cannot essentially affect worldly
118 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
nature. But human beings, unlike God and the world, are utterly at the mercy
of transitoriness—to the extent that this constitutes their most defining feature.
At the same time, the human being is not only transitory, but also partic-
ular. Particularity, as an antonym of universality, has always been acknowledged
as an essential feature of the human being, and there is nothing specifically
Rosenzweigian in such a view. That every single, concrete individual is different
from the concept of ‘individual’ is actually something many thinkers would fun-
damentally agree on, although at a later stage controversies would certainly arise
between them about the meaning to attribute to that difference and more pre-
cisely, about the way the particular and the universal relate to each other. There
is a gap between the particular human existence and “the universal validity and
necessity of knowledge. [The human being] is before knowledge and, precisely
therefore, also after knowledge” (69). Now, the question is whether this gap is
bridgeable or not.
For Rosenzweig, this gap is not bridgeable. In his ‘new thinking’, the adjective
‘particular’, when referring to the human being, is used in its Kierkegaardian—
and anti-Hegelian—acceptation, so that it does not only mean ‘different from the
universal,’ but also takes on the additional meaning of ‘irreducible to any form of
universality.’110 Thus it is emphasized, once again with Kierkegaard and against
Hegel, that no universal system of knowledge can fully account for the particular,
single human being. As Rosenzweig says: “he [the human being] shouts his vic-
torious cry: ‘I am still here’ to all knowledge, however completely it may imagine
that it has put him into the vessels of its universal validity and its necessity. His
essence is precisely that […] he is always ‘still there,’ that, in his particularity,
he always comes up trumps against the universal’s pretensions to domination”
(ibid.).
At this point, some clarification may be helpful to avoid ambiguity about the
category of ‘particularity.’ First of all, one may observe that it not only appears
in the sphere of the human, but also in that of the worldly. However, the main
ambiguity surrounding this category is due to the different roles it plays in the
two spheres: ‘the particular’ represents the ‘no’ in the world and the ‘yes’ in the
human being. It may seem paradoxical that the same category assumes opposite
110 The same term, ‘particular,’ has obviously an utterly different meaning in Hegel’s phi-
losophy. This is based on a conception that sees the absolute-universal-infinite and
the particular-finite as different developmental stages of the same process. They are
connected, that is, through the logical-dialectical line that founds the reducibility of
the particular to the universal.
The Human 119
111 “the singular of the world […] leaps up for a moment, in a continuous series of
singulars” (GS 2: 69).
112 The formula has great relevance in the Spinoza-Hegel relation. Spinoza writes: “[…]
determination isn’t a fact about the thing’s being but its non-being. Therefore, because
the shape is nothing but a determination, and determination is a negation, it cannot
be anything but a negation” (1677b: Ep. 50). Hegel’s comment about it sounds: “That
determinateness is negation posited as affirmative is Spinoza’s proposition: omnis
determinatio est negatio, a proposition of infinite importance” (W 5: 121). Spinoza’s
sentence expresses the negative essence of determination. Every determination implies
negation and not-being for the simple fact that every ‘thing,’ to be what it is, must at
the same time negate the possibility of being any other ‘thing.’ A determination, in
other words, consists of the features it has (includes), just as much as it depends on
the features it does not have (excludes, negates).
120 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
opposition to other particulars, that is, through a process that always requires
openness to the outside. On the contrary, the human being cannot follow a sim-
ilar way: she cannot relate to her surroundings and therefore can neither per-
ceive nor possibly negate other particulars. “The self [read ‘the human being’]
cannot look out over its walls, the world remain[s] outside” (89).
From the internal perspective that is proper to it, the sphere of the human
appears to have a double, contradictory nature that Rosenzweig describes as
follows: human nature “is a singular reality and yet it is an All” (69). Now, this
pairing of opposite qualities, that is this coexistence of singularity and totality in
the same element, is only an apparent contradiction and illusion caused by the
introversion, indifference, and isolation that have been acknowledged as charac-
terizing the human being. If the human particular cannot cross the boundaries
of its typical enclosedness in itself, a necessary precondition for knowing itself as
a particular is not satisfied. Confrontation with and negation of other external
particulars turn out to be impracticable, and the human being thus comes to
see herself as she is not: as an All. It is the internal perspective of/on the human
being, then, that ends up presenting her particularity as if it were a totality.113
Another distinguishing trait of the human particular is its absolute absence
of negativity, because the human enclosedness—as it is well known by now—
hinders any possible contact with otherness, and hence also any negation
thereof. In the world, particularity comes into contact with otherness, so that
negative relationships are established among particulars. The human being, on
the other hand, knows her own particularity only from an internal perspective,
which makes her ignore other particulars and does not provide the conditions
for any form of negation to take place. Alien to the action of negation, then, the
human particular comes to assume the character of a positive, static essence,
and the primary difference between the external-worldly and the internal-human
approach thus turns out to be mirrored in the two opposite ways particularity is
conceived: “in the world it is ‘no,’ in man ‘yes;’ in the former it is the always new
miracle of individuality, in the latter the lasting being of character.” (70–71).
In order to define the ‘yes’-component of the human being—particularity—a
comparison with the same notion in the different context of the world has been
required. Similarly, the ‘no’-component in the sphere of the human can be
113 Singularity can be mistakenly taken for totality only as long as the human being is
considered in isolation— that is in the enclosedness of the Pre-World. A radical change
in perspective takes place, when the three Urphänomene start relating to one another,
i.e. in the World.
The Human 121
It may sound like some kind of pun, but the following sentence can be taken
as a starting point: ‘particularity is general’. ‘Particularity’ is a general, generic
notion that can refer to the human being as well as to the world. And it is only at
a further level of specification that human and worldly particularity can be dis-
tinguished from each other. Rosenzweig writes: “human particularity is therefore
something other than the individuality [the human being] assumes as a singular
phenomenon inside the world. It is not an individuality that secedes from other
individualities, it is not a part” (69). And after trying to define human particu-
larity negatively, that is by what it is not, Rosenzweig goes on to describe what it
actually is: “For [the human being] alone, the particularity does not change into
a partial ‘individuality,’ but into a […] ‘character’ ” (70).
What can be gathered by comparing these two quotes, is that ‘particularity,’ as
a general concept, can refer equally to a dimension of the world or to an aspect
of the human being; but, depending on the case, it can specify itself respectively
into worldly ‘individuality’—which is a ‘no’ for Rosenzweig, and therefore a
dynamic “act [or] event” (ibid.)—or into human ‘character’—which is a ‘yes’ in
Rosenzweig’s view, and therefore a static, “perpetual essence” (ibid.). To schema-
tize, then: (1) the word ‘particularity,’ without any further specification, can indi-
cate a component of the world or of the human being; (2) ‘individuality’ is the
specific term Rosenzweig uses for worldly ‘particularity;’ and, finally, (3) ‘char-
acter’ means human ‘particularity.’ To be even more clear: (1) ‘particularity’ tout
court can be worldly or human; (2) ‘individuality’ is only worldly; (3) ‘character’
is only human.
Furthermore, that ‘particularity’ is general means also that it is abstract. On
this point Rosenzweig seems to take the common view that the more general a
notion is, the more abstract it is; and, conversely, the more specific a notion is, the
more concrete it is. This explains why ‘character’ and ‘individuality,’ as results of a
deeper specification, are considered more concrete than mere ‘particularity.’ And
this is also the reason why the ‘no’ of ‘will,’ previously concretized into ‘stubborn-
ness’ through the reference to an object, can relate to the ‘yes’ of ‘particularity’
only when this has already assumed its concrete form as human ‘character:’ “by
coming into contact with ‘character,’ ‘stubbornness’ does not undergo the same
annihilation process as ‘will’ would do, if it related to ‘particularity’ […]; [stub-
bornness] does not find its abolition here, but rather its determination, its con-
tent. […] It takes ‘character’ as content” (73).
Before turning into concrete ‘stubbornness,’ human will is a mere impulse, a
mere direction, which as such is too insubstantial to focus on and stick to any
target. On the other hand, something similar can be said of ‘particularity’ too.
Before taking human shape by determining itself into ‘character,’ ‘particularity’ is
124 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
still too slippery a concept to constitute itself as the substantial object stubborn-
ness needs as its own target. Therefore it is only after maturing into stubbornness
and character that the two components of the sphere of the human, that is its ‘no’
and its ‘yes,’ can meet without vanishing and merge into unity: “stubbornness is
stubborn on the character. This is human self-consciousness or, in a word, the
self. The self is what arises […] as ‘and’ of stubbornness and character—that is as
a conjunction of stubbornness and character—[and] is absolutely enclosed into
itself ” (ibid.).
Showing the same structure as the other two Urphänomene, the human being
too can be analyzed through the conceptual pair rational-irrational. The human
‘yes,’ be it in the primal form of ‘particularity’ or in the more mature, concrete
form of ‘character,’ is a static essence, which as such can be said to be rational
in the sense that it shows as its main feature the solid substantiality that ratio-
nality typically requires of its objects. On the contrary, the human ‘no,’ seen as
‘will’ or as ‘stubbornness,’ is a dynamic act that as such eludes any attempt by
reason to comprehend it and resists being forced into rational categories. Since
for Rosenzweig rationality always fails to grasp the becoming and flux of an ac-
tion, the ‘no’ can be rightly considered irrational—this term being understood to
mean ‘beyond reason.’
Through the mediation of such qualities as rational and irrational it is now
possible to compare Rosenzweig’s conception of the human being with Hegel’s
and Nietzsche’s views on the same subject. Hegel’s approach leads him to ac-
count only for the rational part of the human being, that is, for the part that in
Rosenzweig’s terminology lies within the ambit of ‘yes’ or ‘particularity’/ ‘char-
acter.’ At the other end of the spectrum, Nietzsche’s irrationalism tends to see the
human being as basically consisting in an expression of the ‘will to power,’ so that
the whole sphere of the human turns out to be based on a purely irrational prin-
ciple. Translated into Rosenzweig’s categories, Nietzscheanism corresponds to a
one-sided consideration of the ‘no,’ or ‘will,’ or ‘stubbornness.’ Once again, then,
this interpretation can be summarized as follows: while Hegel focuses only on
the rational ‘yes,’ and Nietzsche considers only the irrational ‘no,’ Rosenzweig’s
view represents a third way between them, since it consists in a conjunction of
‘yes’ and ‘no’—rational and irrational.
As is often the case with Hegel, the placement of a topic within the structure
of his system is in itself revealing of the way he conceives of it. The human being
is mostly dealt with in the system section called ‘the subjective spirit,’ whose
subject matter is expressly declared to be “knowledge, not in the sense of logical
idea, but in the sense of concrete spirit determining itself ” (W 10: 38). Now, one
may object that since knowledge is the main subject matter of every part of the
The Human 125
system,114 ‘the subjective spirit’ cannot be anything special. However, one may
also observe that while all sections of the system deal with basically the same
topic—viz. knowledge—each particular section approaches it from a different
angle. Differences among systematic branches emerge then in the different levels
of concreteness they are able to reach in addressing their common object. What
distinguishes Hegel’s account of the human being, then, is not so much its ref-
erence to knowledge, as the connection it establishes between the most concrete
form of knowledge and the individual as its expression.
In the hierarchy of Hegel’s system, the superiority of one part over another
can be recognized precisely by the level of concreteness it reaches in dealing with
the topic of knowledge. The Wissenschaft der Logik, for example, is the first part
of the system and as such it shows a minimal level of concreteness that leads to
the consideration of logical categories in their pure abstractness. The Philosophie
des Geistes, on the other hand, is the most advanced part of the Hegelian system.
The highest grade of concreteness is reached in it, thanks to the fact that knowl-
edge takes on the form of a concrete human being that knows itself as a (self-)
consciousness. ‘Concreteness’ then stands out as the main notion through
which Hegel’s conception of ‘human being’ can be reconstructed and its deepest
meaning becomes all the more clear in relation to its conceptual cognates. These
are ‘determinateness,’ ‘finitude,’ and ‘particularity,’ which emerge in many dif-
ferent passages of Hegel’s work and connect to one another in various ways.115
A first relevant connection is between ‘concreteness’ and ‘determinateness.’
Hegel gives the adjective ‘concrete’ and the corresponding noun ‘concreteness’
different meanings from the ones they have in ordinary language. For Hegel,
they do not refer to something existing in a material or physical form as in
their common acceptation; rather they indicate ‘embeddedness in the totality.’
114 Hegel’s system is not only a structure that includes all real determinations and arranges
them into a uni-totalitary form. It also allows establishing knowledge about the uni-
totality. Conceived of as substance and subject at the same time (see W 3: 22–23), the
uni-totality has an ontological as well as an epistemological meaning: the same logic
governs the development of being and the development of knowledge.
115 Hegel’s view on the relationship between concrete individual and corresponding idea
thus turns out to be mirrored in the very structure of the system. Just as logic is at a
lower ontological level than the philosophy of spirit, so the abstract idea of human being
is ontologically inferior to the concrete person. Moreover, this is one of the points
where Hegel’s anti-Platonism becomes particularly noticeable, as Plato holds exactly
the opposite view: for him, the individual is a mere accident of the idea, an entity that
is always lower-ranking than the pure essence of its idea.
126 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
a fundamental instability: it cannot keep being itself and must pass over into
another (opposite) determination. In turn, the latter is “another finite, which
equally is a […] passing-over into another finite, and so forth” (W 5: 148). No
single determination can be taken as a constant. Rather, each of them is ab-
sorbed within the process, which thus emerges as the authentic truth behind
the reciprocal reference between different determinations. However, it would be
wrong to consider this process a mere vanishing, as it consists basically in a series
of Aufhebungen, that is, in a series of double movements that, along with an
abolishing moment, always imply a retentive one. The negated determination is
always maintained within the negating one, with the result that every dialectical
stage contributes to raising the general level of determinateness.
In addition, determinateness implies particularity. From a philological point
of view, one may observe that in many passages Hegel uses the two terms as
synonyms. For example, in the Enzyklopädie he writes: “The concept as such
contains the moments of universality […], of particularity, that is, of determi-
nateness […], and of singularity” (W 8: 311). From a theoretical point of view,
a particular can be defined as something (1) provided with at least one distin-
guishing trait and, precisely by virtue of that trait, (2) distinct from what it is
not. Now, the connection between determinateness and particularity emerges
clearly, if one considers that (1) the quality of showing a characteristic feature is
precisely how determinateness can be defined and that (2) acting as a boundary
between the being and the not-being of something is the main task of determi-
nateness (Bestimmtheit), which—it is worth remarking—Hegel considers to be
the German translation for the Greek hóros (ὅρος), which means ‘limit,’ ‘border,’
‘boundary’ (see W 3: 16).
The combination of (1) determinateness as quality and (2) determinateness as
hóros is explicitly dealt with in a passage in the Wissenschaft der Logik: “Something
has a quality, and in this quality it is not only determined but also delimited;
its quality is its limit […]. This […] constitutes the finitude of the something”
(W 5: 139). With this quote, a new notion is introduced: that of ‘finitude.’ It relates
to the others in the following way: determinateness, as both quality and hóros,
implies finitude and this, in turn, implies transitoriness: “When we say of things
that they are finite, we understand by this that they not only have determinate-
ness, that their quality is not only reality and existent determination, that they
are not merely limited […], but rather that not-being constitutes their nature,
their being. Finite things are, […] but the truth of this being is (as in Latin) their
finis, their end. The finite does not just alter, as the something in general does,
but perishes […]. The hour of their birth is the hour of their death.” (ibid.).
128 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
121 Thus conceived, ‘rational’ and ‘rationalization’ become very similar in meaning, if not
identical, with ‘systematic’ and ‘systematization,’ as a system represents exactly that
‘general, universal horizon of meaning’ that has been mentioned above.
130 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Böse, moreover, he uses almost the same wording to say that “the world viewed
from within, the world determined and defined in its ‘intelligible character’—it
would be will to power and nothing else” (KGA 6.2: 51). These two quotes are
similar but not identical, because in the second quote a subtle yet important
difference can be found: the clarification is made that the world is ‘viewed from
within.’ That is to say that the perspective from which the world is recognized as
essentially ‘will to power’ is an internal one. And here is where the human being
comes in.
For Nietzsche, ‘internal’ perspective means ‘human’ perspective in this con-
text, so that seeing the world ‘from within’ is for him tantamount to seeing it
with human eyes. The overall picture becomes more and more clear, then: what
Nietzsche aims at is to make internal, human dynamics the key to the explana-
tion of external, worldly dynamics. Moreover, such a connection turns out to
be possible and plausible by virtue of an analogical link that can be found—or
maybe founded122—between human being and world. Nietzsche argues for a
close analogical correspondence between internal and external processes and
expounds his view on this subject in a fragment from 1885: “it is necessary that
all motion, all phenomena, all laws are seen as symptoms of an inner occurrence,
and that the human being is employed as an analogy to this aim” (KGA 7.3: 287.
1885, 36–31).
The role of the human being as an analogical way of accessing the character of
the world comes even more to the fore in Jenseits von Gut und Böse: “Assuming
that our world of desires and passions is the only thing ‘given’ as real, that we
cannot get down or up to any ‘reality’ except the reality of our drives […] are
we not allowed to make the attempt and pose the question as to whether some-
thing like this ‘given’ is not enough to render the so-called mechanistic (and
thus material) world comprehensible as well? […] In the end, we are not only
allowed to make such an attempt: we have to make it […] we must make the at-
tempt to hypothetically posit the causality of the will as the only type of causality
there is. […] we must venture the hypothesis that […] every mechanistic event
in which a force is active is really a force and effect of the will. […] then we will
122 As is often the case with many aspects of Nietzsche’s philosophy, one could wonder
whether the analogical relationship between world and human being is the result of a
descriptive inquiry—which would justify the usage of the verb to find—or rather of a
prescriptive one—which would make the verb to found the right word choice. However,
this is a matter for Nietzschean philology and, as such, exceeds the scope of this work.
132 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
have earned the right to clearly designate all efficacious force as: will to power”
(KGA 6.2: 50–51).
The world is essentially ‘will to power’—and this assertion is tenable by virtue
of the analogy the world has with the human being. In other words, it is legiti-
mate to describe worldly reality in terms of ‘will to power’ because it has been
recognized as belonging “to the same plane of reality as our affects” (50), that
is to our inner being, which is itself ‘will to power.’ Considering this matter
from another angle, one may say that the ‘will to power’ has human character
before gaining worldly validity, and it comes to have a meaning for the world
precisely because of the concomitance between (1) its human foundation and
(2) the human-worldly analogy. However, that the human being is basically ‘will
to power’ is a conclusion Nietzsche comes to by reasoning about other funda-
mental notions, in particular the notion of life system (Lebens-system) and that of
dynamic quanta (dynamische Quanta).
The first step in Nietzsche’s path is a distinction he draws within the sphere of
the human, between imaginary and real individuals. In a posthumous fragment
from 1881, he writes: “the individual is a mistake […]. However, I distinguish
between imaginary individuals and authentic life systems” (KGA 5.2: 340–341.
1881, 11–7). To clarify this difference, another conceptual pair that has already
proved relevant to Nietzsche’s thought can be of help: the pair rigidity-fluidity.
Following an interpretative approach based on these two notions, the whole of
Nietzsche’s philosophy can be roughly summarized as a rejection of any form of
rigidity for the sake of fluidity. What makes then fictive individuality a mistake,
in this view, is its claim to constitute a unity, which Nietzsche sees as an example
of rigidity: a rigid entity endowed with substantiality.
Against this conception of the individual, which is a derivative of a picture
of reality as something rigid, Nietzsche advocates an idea of individuality as a
flowing dimension. “[T]he individual is […] a sum of perceptions, judgments,
and mistakes […], a ‘unity’ without stability” (ibid.)—he says. But one should
be careful not to take the word ‘unity’ all too literally here. It is written in in-
verted commas for a reason—that is, to indicate that it is used in an improper
way. In other words, Nietzsche speaks of a ‘unity,’ which is such in name only; it
is a ‘unity’ that, without stability, lacks precisely the distinguishing feature that
would characterize it as such. In order to be a unity, every unity needs a certain
degree of stability. Deprived of it, it cannot be a unity anymore—and Nietzsche’s
expression thus turns out to be a contradiction in terms.
The only notion that can account for the real individual is that of fluidity: as
an ever-changing sum and a false unity, the individual turns out to be essentially
a flux, an instable dimension in constant motion: “The ‘I’ proves to be something
The Human 133
becoming (etwas Werdendes)” (KGA 8.1: 322. 1886 7–55). But the fluidification
of the individual is not without consequences for the whole of reality, as “[…]
every other being is made in its [the ‘I’s’] image” (321–322). It is then perfectly
consistent with this view that “there are no durable ultimate unities, no atoms,
no monads” (KGA 8.2: 278. 1887 11–73), and that the world too, in analogy with
the individual, “is not a rigid fact (Thatbestand), but is ‘in a flux’ like something
becoming (sie ist ‘im Flusse,’ als etwas Werdendes)” (KGA 8.1: 112. 1885 2–108).
If it is the very notion of unity, with its implicit determination and rigidity,
which should be criticized and rejected in Nietzsche’s view, the question may be
raised as to how the individual human being, should be correctly thought of. Of
course, she cannot be seen as a unitary subject. But neither can she be consid-
ered a plurality, because each element of it would imply, once again, the notion
of unity in order for it to be properly conceived of. The first option is effectively
discredited in Jenseits von Gut und Böse, where one reads: “that I am the one who
is thinking, […], that there is an ‘I,’ [are just] bold claims that are difficult, per-
haps impossible, to establish” (KGA 6.2: 23–24). On the other hand, the notion
of plurality cannot but share the same fate as that of unity, as a plurality is always
a plurality of unities.
The problem now can be formulated as follows: how is it possible to conceive
of the individual as a life system without resorting to the notion of unity—be
it taken in itself or as a precondition for that of plurality? Nietzsche’s solution
consists in introducing another key concept: the power-quantum or dynamic
quantum. Defining a power-quantum is no easy task, as it is something of a slip-
pery concept. It does not have the status of a ‘thing,’ whose conceptual bound-
aries would be clear and distinct; and after all, defining something means
basically drawing conceptual boundaries around it. Actually, a power-quantum
is conceived in direct opposition to the notion of ‘thing:’ “no things remain but
dynamic quanta in a relation of tension to all other dynamic quanta: their es-
sence lies in their relation to all other quanta, in their ‘effects’ […]—not a being,
but a pathos” (KGA 8.3: 51. 1888 14–79).
Nothing is further from the notion of power-quantum than the well-definable,
stable, and rigid substantiality of a thing. As Nietzsche says in the quote above, a
power-quantum does not have the slightest kinship with a static being; rather, it
has a dynamic character, and thus shows much more affinity with such notions as
‘pathos,’ ‘impulse,’ ‘tendency,’ or ‘drive.’ In this view, the category of unity, which
would be perfectly suitable for grasping the nature of a thing, turns out to be
wholly inadequate when it comes to accounting for a power-quantum. In fact, a
power-quantum is fundamentally dynamic, and so alien to the principle of sub-
stantiality that its very essence consists exclusively in insubstantial aspects—like
134 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
the relationships it forges and the effects it exerts. As a dynamic drive, a power-
quantum does not exist in itself,123 but only in its actions.
The last step in Nietzsche’s reasoning is the equation he makes between the
notions of ‘power-quanta,’ ‘will to power,’ and ‘life.’ A reconstruction of these
relationships can be broken down into two parts, with the first part dealing with
‘power-quanta’ and ‘will to power.’ Nietzsche says: “a power-quantum is character-
ized by its effect and its resistance. […] A will to put [other quanta] into subjec-
tion is essential, as well as a protection against being put into subjection.124 That is
why I call a quantum ‘will to power’ ” (KGA 8.3: 50. 1888, 14–79). The second part
connects ‘will to power’ and ‘life:’ “life […] is specifically a will to accumulation of
power. […] Life […] strives for a maximal feeling of power. Striving is nothing else
than striving for power” (KGA 8.3: 54. 1888, 14–82). With this latter quote, then,
the final connection is established, so that it is now possible to summarize the whole
of Nietzsche’s path.
The real individual is for Nietzsche a life system, and a life system is a conglom-
erate of power quanta. Such a conglomerate is not to be thought of as a unitary
entity based on a stable substantiality. Rather it is a convergence of insubstantial
tendencies, which align with one another as they respond to a shared drive to
enlarge their power. The point is that striving for more and more power and
growing indefinitely is exactly what the ‘will to power’ does, and it is on the basis
of this common character, then, that the power quanta turn out to be essentially
‘will to power.’ The power quanta are what the ‘will to power’ consists of; they are
its basic form.125 Now, to recapitulate: if the human being is for Nietzsche a life
123 Nietzsche writes: “a thing = its features” (KGA 8.1: 95. 1885, 2–77) and “the features
of a thing are effects upon other ‘things’ […]. There is no thing without other things,
i.e. there is no ‘thing in itself.’ ” (KGA 8.1: 102. 1885, 2–85). A thing does not have
its features, it is them. These features, however, are nothing more than effects, that is
nothing substantial, but just exercises of power. In these fragments of 1885, Nietzsche
does not yet use the term ‘power-quantum’—he does not do so until 1887. However,
the word ‘thing’ in the texts quoted proves already to be not up to scratch. It is an old
term, loaded with metaphysical meaning and unsuitable to the new concept, which
can be better rendered by the compound ‘power-quantum.’
124 Original text: “Es ist essentiell ein Wille zur Vergewaltigung und sich gegen
Vergewaltigungen zu wehren.”
125 The equation ‘power quanta = will to power’ is sometimes carried to the extreme
point that the very notion of ‘will to power’ as a single dimension is put into question.
For example: “there is no will: there are will-punctuations that constantly increase or
lose their power” (KGA 8.2: 278–279. 1887, 11–73). Rüdiger Grimm writes of this
aspect: “we might say that while the will to power is formally one, it is specifically
Between and Beyond Hegel and Nietzsche 135
system, which is basically a certain set of power quanta, which in turn are the
primary form of the ‘will to power,’ one may conclude that the human being is
nothing other than ‘will to power.’
The human being is for Nietzsche a portion of the fundamental principle of
the ‘will to power’ and the whole sphere of the human is exhaustively accounted
for by the notion of will. This latter assertion represents the point where a com-
parison with Rosenzweig becomes possible. As a first approximation, it can be
remarked that Nietzsche recognizes the deepest nature of the human being in
what for Rosenzweig is only one of her constitutive dimensions. In Rosenzweig’s
conception, will is one of the two components converging in and forming the
Urphänomen of the human being—to wit, the ‘no’-component, which completes
and counterbalances the opposite ‘yes’-component. On the other hand, it is
safe to say that in Nietzsche’s view will alone exhausts the whole sphere of the
human—and indeed the whole of reality.
many” (1977: 3). However, one could point out that in general it is otiose to oppose
‘monism’ and ‘pluralism,’ especially if one considers that a single entity always includes
a plurality of aspects and that, in turn, a plurality can always be considered as a single
collection (on this point, see also James 1909: 3–40 and Goodman 1978: 2). What
counts, after all, is the way reality is seen, and this is all the more crucial for a philo-
sophical position that, like Nietzscheanism, bases its approach to reality on interpre-
tation and perspectivism.
136 The Three Spheres in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ places itself at the midpoint between idealism and
irrationalism and thus represents what has been called a third way between them.
This median position can be taken as a key for reading the whole of Rosenzweig’s
thought. It finds application in each one of the levels, or layers, which he sees as
comprising reality. The three elements of God, world, and human being, consid-
ered in their enclosedness in themselves, constitute the first layer; while the three
paths of creation, revelation, and redemption, in opening to each other the three
elements, form the second layer. The specific way elements and paths are thought
of in the ‘new thinking’ is precisely what makes it different both from an ideal-
istic forma mentis and from an irrational conception.
In general, there are actually various approaches when it comes to charting a
third way between two alternatives. More precisely, ‘thirdness’126 can be achieved
by way of exclusion or through a process of inclusion. In the first case, the third
element emerges by radically distinguishing itself from the other two elements.
It does not share the slightest feature with them, so that it gains its particular
kind of ‘thirdness’ through what appears to be a double rejection. This can find
expression in some structures of ordinary language127 and can be epitomized, in
particular, by the correlative conjunctions ‘neither… nor….’ The following sen-
tence serves as a clear example of this correspondence: ‘a third way obtained by
exclusion has nothing in common with the other two ways, neither with the first
way, nor with the second one.’
Inclusion, on the other hand, consists in an utterly different process. The third
element, in this case, emerges as a conjunction of the other two. It is a compo-
sition of them, so that its ‘thirdness’ does not stem from rejecting the other two
options, but rather from merging them and creating something completely new
that, though including the other two elements, is nonetheless irreducible to each
of them when taken singularly. Sticking with the metaphorical parallel drawn
above between different types of ‘thirdness’ and different grammar structures,
it turns out that inclusion can be represented by the correlative conjunctions
‘both… and…’—as exemplified in the following sentence: ‘a third way obtained
by inclusion combines in itself the properties of both the first and the second way.’
126 The word ‘thirdness’ is used here in the sense of ‘the quality of being third.’ It has
nothing to do, in this context, with the specialist meaning it has in Peircean philosophy.
127 Rosenzweig himself makes large use of linguistic and grammatical structures to illus-
trate some key notions of the ‘new thinking.’ Suggesting a similar analysis, here, is
therefore true to the spirit of Rosenzweig’s thought.
Between and Beyond Hegel and Nietzsche 137
entjudet) (GS 3: 598), that is, deeply influenced by the Greek philosophical
way of thinking while at the same time alienated from the Jewish tradition of
thought. Rosenzweig’s project aims at overturning this situation. Its goal is to
make thinking ‘more Jewish’ and ‘less philosophical.’
The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s
‘New Thinking’
In Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking,’ the second level of reality and truth consists of
three relational paths, through which the three Urphänomene of God, world, and
human being connect to each other. More precisely, the path of creation involves
God and world, the path of revelation occurs between God and the human being,
while the path of redemption develops between world and human being. From
the first to the second level of reality and truth—from the three spheres to the
three paths—the change is dramatic, as it entails a transition from a state of
enclosedness to one of reciprocal openness. Considering that the Urphänomene
end up being closed, isolated spheres, it may rightly be asked of the relational
paths how they are at all possible. Simply put: how can each element break its
enclosedness and open up to the others? How and why does such a transition
take place?
Rosenzweig’s answer to this question is strictly connected to the method of
inquiry he adopts throughout his entire thinking. It is a method that in general
can be described as the succession of two steps: (1) the starting point is the fact
of having some vague inkling that there really is a particular object of inquiry;
that it does exist; (2) the next phase consists in confirming that vague inkling
through a thorough scrutiny of what the object of inquiry exactly is. Rosenzweig
says: “From the nothings of knowledge, our explorers’ journey reaches the some-
thing of knowledge” (GS 2: 22), and thus indicates the two poles of its method.
The ‘nothing of knowledge’ is not pure nothingness, rather it corresponds to a
form of hypothetical knowledge—also referred to as “belief (Glaube)” (96)—
that by its very nature aims at finding confirmation. That “it contains in itself
the promise of definability” (24), as Rosenzweig maintains, means that it is the
nature of knowledge to evolve from being vague and hypothetical to being stable
and settled.
This methodic-methodological succession of original belief and subsequent
confirmation thereof is first applied to the three spheres: “we ‘believe’ in the
world, at least as much as we believe in God or in our Self. […]. We can only
hypothetically free ourselves from the fact that we have that belief; hypotheti-
cally because we are building it from the ground up; in such a way that we shall
finally reach the point where we shall see how the hypothetical had to turn
into the a-hypothetical, the absolute, the unconditional of that belief ” (45). For
every Urphänomen, the first step is the acknowledgment of the mere fact that it
140 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
from being closed in itself to being open and ready for relations. This is due to
its internal forces turning from converging into diverging forces and depends,
finally, on ‘yes’ and ‘no’ inverting their positive and negative charges.
Rosenzweig goes on to clarify the dynamics of reversal, which turns out to
develop in a non-dialectical way. “What ended as Yes emerges now as No, and
vice versa, just as we unpack things from a suitcase in the opposite order as we
packed them. As trivial as the comparison might sound, we must take it seri-
ously” (124), because ‘yes’ and ‘no’ are not dialectically connected: “the No is not
the ‘antithesis’ of the Yes; rather, they face the nothing with the same immediacy”
(125). This means that ‘yes’ and ‘no’ are not successive, but rather parallel, and
that therefore the very core of dialectic here is rejected. No step is determined by
a necessary connection to the other, as it would be in a dialectical environment.
Rather, the emergence of ‘yes’ and ‘no’—at the first level—as well as the conversion
of their ontological values—at the second level—are free occurrences in the sense
that they are not governed by logical necessity.
Turning back now to the original question—how and why does the transition
from enclosedness to openness take place?—it can be observed that it breaks
down into two sub-questions: how? and why? Only the first question can, and
does, have a descriptive answer in the metaphorical example of the suitcase,
while an explanatory answer to the second question would need to resort to the
principle of causality to identify the reason why ‘yes’ and ‘no’ undergo a process
of conversion. However, causality is precisely one of the principles that cannot
be resorted to in this case, as it cannot operate in a context that, such as this
one, lacks logical necessity and dialectical determination. The transition from
enclosedness to openness is a matter of fact, about which it does not make any
sense to ask why it is what it is. Even the final confirmation it receives leaves
the question why? unanswered, because such a verification consists in making
explicit the way the transition occurs, not the reason why it does.
succeeds in doing it, with his conception of ‘absolute spirit’ as the final stage of a
development that leads reason to know reality and itself as knowing reality. The
result is a condition in which reason does not presuppose anything ‘external’ to
itself, as everything turns out to be included in—‘internal’ to—it.
In this regard, Hegel’s idealism can be rightly considered the highest accom-
plishment of philosophy: it abolishes every external presupposition of thought
and so also the very possibility of transcendence. Every aspect of reality is now
deduced through an immanent movement of thought and thus absorbed into
the domain of rational thinking. Against such a conclusion, Rosenzweig’s
hypothesis-based method can be seen as a restoration of extra-rational entities
which precede reason and to which reason can refer only at a later stage. From
a more general perspective, this re-introduction of presuppositions means a
re-affirmation of the fact that reason is not ‘almighty’ and that some aspects of
reality are, and will always be, beyond rationality. If Hegel’s idealism brings phi-
losophy to its conclusion through a complete abolishment of presuppositions,
Rosenzweig’s restoration thereof is probably his most anti-idealist, and even
anti-philosophical, gesture.
The critical meaning lying at the root of Rosenzweig’s hypothetical method,
however, is not an original or exclusive trait of his conception.128 Other thinkers
before him—or also after, but independently of him—take similar methodo-
logical positions. As different as they may be, each of them is characterized by
the rehabilitation of an element that essentially exceeds the boundaries of ratio-
nality, something that stands in front of reason and never lets itself be grasped
in a rational development. Every form of anti-idealism accounts for an element
that escapes rationality and acts as a ‘presupposition’ for thought. It is then from
this common trait that direct influences and indirect similarities can be found
between Rosenzweig’s conception and other philosophical views—like, for
example, Schelling’s experiential-narrative philosophy (erfahrende-erzählende
Philosophie) or the inquiry method of phenomenology.
In Der Stern der Erlösung, Schelling is explicitly acknowledged as one of
that work’s main philosophical reference points. Especially Schelling’s late phi-
losophy, expounded in such works as Philosophie der Offenbarung (1858) and
Die Weltalter (1861), was taken as a paradigm by Rosenzweig for his account
of presupposition—and he certainly makes no bones about admitting it: “With
128 Dealing with Rosenzweig and the problem of presupposition, Massimo Cacciari,
for example, talks about a “general anti-idealist mood (Stimmung) of contemporary
thought” (1986b: 43).
Explicit References and Implicit Analogies 143
129 The expression ‘merely being’ (das bloß Seyende, ἁπλῶς ον) indicates something that
cannot be grasped in thought and thus sets itself beyond it. “The nature of the ‘merely
being’ consists in being independent of every idea,” writes Schelling (1858: 161).
130 “I’m anti-Hegelian (and anti-Fichtean); of the four, my tutelary saints (Schutzheiligen)
are Kant and—above all—Schelling” (GS 1.1: 538).
131 Some of the most relevant works dealing with the relationship between Schelling and
Rosenzweig are: Tilliet (1985), Cacciari (1986b), Courtine (1998), Belloni (2001),
Bienenstock (2004), Schmiedt-Kowarzik (2005a), Bertolino (2006).
132 Husserl is, however, mentioned in Rosenzweig’s correspondence with Margrit
Rosenstock-Huessy—more often than not in a negative way. In a letter of November
18, 1918, Rosenzweig writes: “Today I’ve listened to Husserl, whom I didn’t know.
Once again, a philosopher less (Wieder ein Philosoph weniger)” (GB: 193). On August
18, 1924, Rosenzweig is even more disapproving, as he writes: “Husserl must be a
dunce (Esel). In a first […] semester, he told me hair-raising stuff (haarsträubende
Sachen)” (GB: 815).
133 Even if Rosenzweig declares: “Now I know Husserl completely” (GB: 744), he then
adds: “only from his students” (ibid.). That is to say that Rosenzweig’s knowledge of
Husserl’s theory is only an indirect one.
134 A phenomenological reading of Rosenzweig’s thought has been attempted by Bernhard
Casper (1966, 1999).
144 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
135 The term ‘production,’ when referring to Hegel’s idealism, has a different meaning
compared to the one it has in ordinary language. Saying that ‘rationality produces
reality’ certainly does not mean that material things are created through an act of
thought, as in a sort of creatio ex nihilo. In an idealistic view, the essence of a thing
consists in its rational structure, that is in the aspects of it that are graspable and
grasped by rationality. Now, rationality grasps only what is obtained by means of
dialectical deduction, in the ongoing progress of spirit. That thought produces reality,
then, means that every element of reality has its essence—and therefore its innermost
truth—determined by the logical-dialectical operations that take place in and consti-
tute the development of thought.
146 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
136 For a comparison between conceptual and narrative ways of thinking, see Fortis
(2011).
Explicit References and Implicit Analogies 147
137 Strange as it may sound, the most striking analogy between ‘new thinking’ and phe-
nomenology is not to be found between Rosenzweig’s and Husserl’s thought, but
rather between Rosenzweig’s and Maurice Merleau-Ponty’s. While it can be argued—
taking Lévinas’ interpretation as a starting point—that Rosenzweig and Husserl share
a similar tendency toward concreteness and against abstraction, the analogy between
Rosenzweig and Merleau-Ponty, though it goes for the most part unnoticed, appears to
be all the more deep, as it can be traced back to the reference both make to Schelling
(on the relationship between Schelling and Merleau-Ponty, see Burke and Wirth 2013
as well as Bilda 2016). Merelau-Ponty, for example, talks about a “fundamental faith
in the fact that there is something” (Merleau-Ponty 1964: 140). This faith corresponds
to an always already positive answer to the question as to whether reality is—the
quod or an sit-question. “Then, if the question can no longer be that of the an sit, it
becomes that of the quid sit; there remains only to study what the world and truth
and being are” (142, my emphasis). In other words, Merleau-Ponty—like Schelling
and Rosenzweig—sees philosophical reflection as an attempt to discover what reality
is (quid sit), based always on the solid certainty that reality is (quod or an sit).
148 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Stern der Erlösung “is too often present in this book to be cited. But presentation
and development of the notions employed owe everything (doivent tout) to the
phenomenological method” (Lévinas 1961: 14). At this juncture, the question
arises as to whether a common trait can be found between Rosenzweigian and
phenomenological thought which allows them to be equally decisive sources for
Lévinas’ conception.
The answer can be derived from the following quote: “Notions held under the
direct gaze of the thought that defines them turn out to be, unbeknown to this
naïve thought, implanted in horizons that it does not even suspect. Such horizons
endow those notions with a meaning—Here is Husserl’s essential teaching. […]
What counts is the idea of overcoming objectifying thought through a forgotten
experience it lives from” (ibid.). The conception that emerges from this passage
is based on a radical distinction between two levels. A form of thought described
as ‘defining,’ ‘objectifying,’ and ‘naïve’ is placed at a first level, while ‘unsuspected
horizons’ and a ‘forgotten experience’ constitute a second level. The first, most
superficial level is characterized by a kind of thought that, committed to objecti-
fication and definition, has exactly the same attitude that rationality has toward
reality: it is therefore rational thought.
This kind of thought, however, is also said to be ‘naïve,’ because it does not,
and cannot, realize that it is rooted in a deeper dimension—that is precisely
the second level—that sustains rational thought and acts as a hidden source of
meaning for it. This underground dimension is to be understood as a highly con-
crete dimension, which on the one hand is a necessary foundation for every move-
ment of thought, yet on the other hand also has the character of an indistinct
background that, as such, can never be ‘held under the direct gaze’ of rationality.
Thus the second level can be said to be irrational in the sense that it does not
allow rational thought to grasp it. It does not let itself be objectified by a form of
thought that, for its part, cannot but objectify, and is therefore incapable of rec-
ognizing anything that is by nature refractory to objectification. As a result, the
indistinct background cannot be captured by reason, rather only by experience.
This two-level structure, which Lévinas considers “Husserl’s essential
teaching,” is also the theoretical element he relies on to suggest a consonance
between Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ and Husserl’s phenomenology. What they
share, their ‘common denominator,’ so to speak, consists in a view that sees a
de facto situation—concretely experienceable, but not formally thinkable—as a
foundation and a starting point for rational thought to develop. On the basis
of this common trait, however, the consonance can be extended to include
also Schelling, so that it is now possible to summarize as follows: Schelling and
Rosenzweig are bound by a relationship of direct influence of the former on the
‘Quod sit’ and ‘Quid sit’ in Der Stern der Erlösung 149
latter, while some scholars (see, besides Lévinas, Cohen 1988 and Casper 1999)
argue that indirect analogies can be found between Rosenzweig’s ‘hypothetical
method’ and the method of phenomenology.
More precisely: Schelling’s understanding of an experiential quod sit-question
that always precedes the rational quid sit-question influences Rosenzweig’s view
of original phenomena (Urphänomene) giving themselves as matters of fact
and thus triggering the always subsequent inquiry into what they properly are.
Schelling’s and Rosenzweig’s conceptions, then, find their counterpart in what for
Lévinas is Husserl’s most fundamental tenet, to wit, the idea that the development
of rational, abstract thought must always be based upon a non-rational, concrete
background. Moreover, this concreteness, being the (secret) source of rational
reasoning, cannot be called into question by the same thought it nourishes and
sustains, and thus shows the same degree of indubitability as Schelling’s quod sit-
question or Rosenzweig’s triad of God, world, and human being.
In this view, that Schelling’s ‘merely being,’ Rosenzweig’s Urphänomene, or,
according to Lévinas, Husserl’s ‘background of concreteness’ are, that is exist, is a
fundamental point that it would not make any sense to cast doubt on. Therefore,
precisely this assumption is also the theoretical presupposition for any inquiry
that aims at defining what those entities are. Before investigating what reality is
through the exercise of reason, it is necessary to have at least a vague, non-well-
defined experience of the fact that a certain reality, somehow, is. Otherwise, there
would not even be any reason for the inquiry to begin.
138 For an inquiry into the role of this concept in Rosenzweig’s thought, see Fortis (2010b).
139 The whole Stern der Erlösung is nothing more than a picture of reality, after all.
140 An insightful commentary of this passage can be found in Pollock (2006).
‘Quod sit’ and ‘Quid sit’ in Der Stern der Erlösung 151
cannot prevent it, as only a combination of them, that is a Tat-Sache, can main-
tain itself against nothingness.
Once again, the fact that the three Urphänomene are, that is, that they are
included in the realm of being and, evidently, have not fallen into nothing, is the
de facto-situation to start from in order to investigate their nature. That they are
and resist being absorbed into nothing is the starting point to discover what and
how they are. But before following Rosenzweig in his backward movement of
thought, from a state of things to what makes it possible—that is from a condicio
rerum to its corresponding condicio sine qua non, or from a quod to its corre-
sponding quid—an insight into some parallels among Rosenzweigian notions
is in order. A first parallel can be drawn between the notions of ‘yes’ and ‘Sache’
as they share the same ontological mode: the static substantiality of a ‘thing.’
A second conceptual pair, then, includes the notions of ‘no’ and ‘Tat,’ which are
both characterized by a dynamic and fleeting nature.
On the basis of these parallels, it is now possible to retrace Rosenzweig’s argu-
ment in its backward direction. (1) That God, world, and human being are, and
do not fall into nothing, is the matter of fact Rosenzweig starts from. (2) If they
can stay detached from nothing, as they do, it means that they are Tatsachen,
because only a Tatsache “is safe from falling into nothingness.” (3) That they are
Tatsachen means that they result from a combination of Tat and Sache, action
and thing, dynamic and static component. (4) Given the parallels mentioned
above, these two components emerge as the last developmental stages of what
Rosenzweig calls ‘way of yes’ and ‘way of no.’ More precisely, the former way
leads to the Sache, while the latter results in the Tat. Together, they give shape to
each Urphänomen as a ‘yes and no,’ or—which at this point can be considered the
same—a compound of Tat and Sache, that is a Tatsache.
The quodditas of the three Urphänomene, as letzte Tatsächlichkeiten, requires
a double quidditas.141 As letzte, the three Urphänomene cannot presuppose
anything and must, therefore, emerge from nothing. As Tatsachen, that is as
compounds of Tat and Sache, it is also necessary that such emergence from
nothing occurs in two different ways at the same time: through an ‘affirmation of
the not-nothing,’ that is through a ‘yes’ that leads to the formation of a Sache, but
also through a ‘negation of nothing,’ that is, through a ‘no’ resulting in a Tat. At
this juncture, however, a question still remains as to why only the Tatsache is not
141 The term quodditas is used here with the meaning of ‘the fact that something is,’ while
the term quidditas means ‘what something is.’ Possible translations in German and
English are: Dassheit and Washeit or thatness and whatness.
152 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
exposed to the risk of falling into nothing. In other words, point 2 in the recon-
struction above appears to be only stated and not thoroughly discussed, so that
one may rightly wonder why a Sache without Tat or a Tat without Sache should
be bound to fall into nothing.
A Sache without Tat is the outcome of the ‘way of yes,’ which Rosenzweig
defines as ‘affirmation of the not-nothing.’ As an “affirmation through nega-
tion” (GS 2: 26), it defines its object only negatively, that is, saying only what the
affirmed is not. More precisely, the ‘affirmation of the not-nothing’ indicates the
infinite vastness of what has no other feature than that of ‘not being nothing.’
Or looking at the same matter from another angle, a possible formulation could
be: for an element to be regarded by the ‘affirmation of the not-nothing,’ and to
be thus included in the realm of not-nothing, it is enough that such an element
simply is, that is that it is not nothing. The Sache resulting from this logical oper-
ation, then, shows a fundamental indeterminateness as its distinguishing onto-
logical trait. And it is precisely this feature that is able to explain why the Sache
should fall into nothing, if considered without its corresponding Tat.
On closer inspection, conceiving the Rosenzweigian Sache as fundamen-
tally indeterminate makes it not much different from the Hegelian being (Sein).
In the Wissenschaft der Logik, the indeterminate character of Sein is the dia-
lectical trigger that makes it necessarily turn into its contrary category, that is
into nothing (Nichts). As Hegel says: “Being, the indeterminate immediate, is in
fact nothing” (W 5: 82). In this view, an analogical connection can be suggested
between Hegel and Rosenzweig: if not accompanied by the determining action of
a Tat, the Sache alone remains indeterminate, showing exactly the same indeter-
minateness as nothing, and thus ending up passing over into nothing.142 Based on
this interpretation, then, what Rosenzweig calls a ‘fall’ of Sache into nothing can
probably be better defined in terms of ‘indistinguishability’ between Sache and
nothing, due to the fact that both are equally indeterminate.143
A Tat without Sache is what would result from the ‘way of no,’ if it did not
come across the ‘way of yes.’ The ‘no’ originates from the logical operation of
a ‘negation of nothing’ and maintains its dynamic character as an operation
throughout the whole course of its development. In general, every operation has
142 “Nothing is, therefore, the same determination, or rather absence of determination,
and thus altogether the same as, pure being” (W 5: 83).
143 This reading shows, how Hegel’s influence on Rosenzweig is more pervasive then one
might expect. Though Hegel’s idealism is the main polemical target in Der Stern der
Erlösung, an implicit Hegelian vein can still be noticed in Rosenzweig’s reasoning.
‘Quod sit’ and ‘Quid sit’ in Der Stern der Erlösung 153
as its object a substantial entity, but the operation itself lacks any substantiality, as
it is something intangible and fleeting. Now, precisely in this impalpable nature
the reason can be found why a Tat without a Sache to be applied to is said to fall
into nothing. An operation without an object to turn to is utterly ineffective,
because it does not find any substratum on which effects, in general, can be pro-
duced. Similarly, without the static substantiality of a Sache that could receive
and sustain it, the dynamic drive of a Tat ‘falls into nothing,’ in the sense that it
dwindles to a futile act. It is in vain, so to speak. It misses the mark, or—sticking
to this metaphor—it does not even have a mark to aim at.144
That God, world, and human being constitute three closed and independent
spheres is the self-evident fact the first part of Der Stern der Erlösung gives an ac-
count of—the starting quod. Emergence from nothing and the necessary conver-
gence of Tat and Sache in a fully-fledged Tatsache are the two main features that
can be inferred from that fact—the subsequent quid. Now, the same dynamics
come up again in the second part of Rosenzweig’s work. Here, the relationship
between quod and quid applies, respectively, to the web of relations the three
Urphänomene are involved in and to the conversions necessary for such relations
to develop. More precisely, that the three Urphänomene relate to one another is a
matter of fact—the starting quod. This relational mode requires a state of recip-
rocal openness between the Urphänomene which can be obtained only through
an internal conversion of their ‘yes’-es and ‘no’-es, a reversal of their positive and
negative ontological values—the subsequent quid.
Focusing now on the second part of Der Stern der Erlösung, its characteristic
conversions have evental character, in the sense that they just happen. Nothing
leads to them; nothing, before their factual happening, foreshadows them. The
only reason why it is possible to affirm that they actually take place is that Der
144 In this respect, Rosenzweig presents Asian conceptions of divinity, like Heaven or
Brahman, as defective and insubstantial entities. He talks about “the shadows (Schemen)
of the Asiatic East” (GS 2: 38, my emphasis). Their defectiveness and insubstantiality
are for Rosenzweig examples of what happens, when ‘yes’ and ‘no,’ Sache and Tat, do
not meet and form a unity. “China’s Heaven, [for example, is] divine power that does
not pour itself over divine essence” (ibid.)— that is, a ‘no’ that does not meet its cor-
responding ‘yes.’ On the other hand, Indian Brahman represents divine nature that is
left untouched by divine freedom— that is, a ‘yes’ without ‘no.’
Heaven and Brahman pertain only to the sphere of the divine, but Rosenzweig
makes analogous remarks about world (see 62–65) and human being (see 80–82).
154 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Stern der Erlösung is written from the middle145 of Rosenzweig’s articulated pic-
ture of reality, that is, from a point of view from which the conversions have
already happened, and it is thus possible to draw conclusions from the effects
they produced. A parte ante, the conversions are utterly unpredictable, but a
parte post—that is from Rosenzweig’s and his readers’ perspectives—they can
be inferred backwards from the well-known fact that the Urphänomene relate to
one another, as the conversions constitute the only possible explanation for such
self-evident relations.
These relations—creation, revelation, and redemption—and the conversions
they imply, will be analyzed in the following sections.
145 Rosenzweig writes in the ‘Urzelle’ des Stern der Erlösung: “The organizing concept
(Ordnungsbegriff) of this world [is] neither the beginning, nor the end, but rather the
middle” (GS 3: 133). This assertion becomes clear, if one considers that three main
dimensions comprise Rosenzweig’s picture of reality: the Pre-World of the past, the
World of the present, and the Over-world of the future. Der Stern der Erlösung is not
written sub specie aeternitatis, but takes the point of view of today’s mankind, that is,
a point in the present (in the World), halfway between an origin in the past (in the
Pre-World) and an end in the future (in the Over-World).
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 155
146 In this regard, Rosenzweig distinguishes between the “primordial and pure forms of
‘yes’ and ‘no’ that emerge from nothing” and the “forms that have already reversed
their roles, by going from ‘no’ to ‘yes,’ and have already experienced their mutual
influence on each other” (GS 2: 138). He seems to suggest here that the second kind
156 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Rosenzweig uses the following formula to express the meaning of divine power
as an attribute: “God [as essentially powerful] can do anything he wants, but he
wants only what he must want, according to its nature” (ibid.). This phrase can
be divided into two parts, with each representing the two main aspects of divine
power. (1) The statement that “God can do anything he wants” corresponds to the
clearest and plainest acknowledgement of his arbitrariness (Willkür) and as such
it bears witness of the origin of power from an act of freedom. (2) Saying that
God “wants only what he must want, according to its nature” is a way of limiting
the ambit of arbitrariness. A connection to something stable like divine nature is
established, so that divine power can combine in itself the dynamic character of
freedom as well as the stability of an essence—the ‘no’ of the act it comes from as
well as the ‘yes’ of the attribute it turns into.
For Rosenzweig, such a combination is crucial for mediating between two
equally erroneous views. On the one hand, an idea of creation based on God’s
absolute arbitrariness “threatens to release God from any necessary connec-
tion to the world” (126). In this case, the risk would be twofold: the existence
of the world would turn out to be something superfluous and inessential, while
God himself would remain as detached from and indifferent to the world as the
Olympian gods used to be—thus showing not the slightest evolution when com-
pared to them. On the other hand, a conception of creation as something nec-
essary would make the world dwindle to a mere expression of God’s need—not
to mention that, in general, ascribing ‘needs’ to God would be tantamount to
diminishing his perfection.147 If creation occurred by necessity, then, it would be
detrimental to God’s perfection as well as to the world’s autonomy.
The many terms Rosenzweig uses in his account of creation can be sorted
roughly into two main semantic fields: such notions as ‘no,’ ‘act,’ or ‘arbitrar-
iness’ fall within the domain of ‘freedom,’ while ‘yes,’ ‘nature,’ ‘essence,’ or
‘attribute’ belong to the ambit of ‘necessity.’ Once reduced to these two keywords,
Rosenzweig’s conception of God as powerful creator can be defined as a com-
bination between the opposite concepts of ‘freedom’ and ‘necessity.’ However,
‘combination’ may be too vague a word in this context, as the sequence in which
freedom and necessity are combined is not irrelevant. In other words, it is not the
same if necessity is grafted onto freedom or, on the contrary, freedom rests on
of ‘yes’ and ‘no’ is, in a sense, more ‘emancipated’ than the first one: it is enriched by
the experience of ontological reversal, still bearing the signs of its previous condition.
147 It follows from the concept of divine perfection and absoluteness that “God cannot
be dependent on anything, and least of all on a need, be it external or internal” (126).
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 157
a foundation of necessity. These two alternatives lie at the roots of two radically
different ontological conceptions which give primacy to freedom or to necessity,
respectively.
The history of philosophy provides significant examples of necessity-based
ontologies, in particular the systems of Spinoza or Hegel. As to the former, in the
Ethica ordine geometrico demonstrata (1677a), Spinoza writes: “That thing is said to
be free (liber) which exists solely from the necessity of its own nature, and is deter-
mined to action by itself alone. A thing is said to be necessary (necessaries) or rather,
constrained (coactus), if it is determined by another thing to exist and to act in a
definite and determinate way” (Def. 7). Later on, he adds: “God acts solely from the
laws of his own nature, constrained by none” (Prop. 17), and finally: “[…] God does
not act from freedom of will” (Prop 32, Cor. 1). It appears clear, then, that primacy
is given to necessity over freedom. However, it is not that in Spinoza’s system there
is no room for freedom at all; rather this has to be reformulated and put into a sub-
ordinate position.
The freedom-necessity relationship is clarified in a letter Spinoza sent to
Schuller: “[…] I place freedom, not in free decision, but in free necessity (libera
necessitas)” (1677b: Ep. 58). This quote shows that for Spinoza there is no contra-
diction between freedom and necessity. The opposite of ‘free’ is not ‘necessary,’ but
‘constrained,’ and both freedom and constriction are just different forms of the
same necessity. Simply put: (1) everything is necessary; (2) what follows necessity
of its own nature is said to be ‘free;’ (3) what is under the influence of something
else is said to be ‘constrained.’ The main notions emerging from this view are ‘free
necessity’ (libera necessitas) and ‘constrained necessity’ (coacta necessitas)—which,
whether free or constrained, are nevertheless always necessary. Freedom, on the
other hand, as libera necessitas, cannot be thought of as ‘arbitrariness’ anymore, but
in order to maintain compatibility with necessity must be redefined in terms of
‘autonomy.’
With regard to Hegel, it has been already pointed out how his notion of
freedom undergoes a similar redefinition. It is certainly true that Hegel levels
harsh criticism against Spinoza, but it is just as true that his polemical targets
are the static character of the substance and its lack of self-consciousness, while
the notion of libera necessitas is never called into question. Hegel argues that the
Spinozistic substance can be really absolute, as it claims to be, only if it becomes
aware of the necessity through which it posits itself. For Spinoza, the substance
finds its absoluteness and freedom in the full realization of its necessary nature.
For Hegel, absoluteness and freedom of the substance must be based on its
158 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
148 Incidentally, thus conceived the substance develops into a subject. This transition, from
Spinozistic substance to Hegelian concept (i.e. subject), is thoroughly described in the
Wissenschaft der Logik—in chapter 3 of the Doctrine of Essence, called The Absolute
Relation, as well as in the first part of the Doctrine of the Concept, called Of the Concept
in General.
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 159
notion includes the one it comes from—and they are always opposed as ‘yes’ and
‘no.’ As the creator integrates freedom and necessity in divine power, so the crea-
ture blends the features of the logos it is derived from with those of the existence it
turns into. Now, logos is a lasting and static ‘yes,’ while existence is a punctual and
dynamic ‘no.’ Their ontological tenors are at odds with each other, but the dif-
ference between them involves only the ways a content is treated in their respec-
tive domains, not the content itself. What logos and existence have in common,
although in different forms, is universality.149
When a conversion transforms logos into existence, the feature of universality
is the only feature to be maintained throughout the whole transition from ‘yes’
to ‘no.’ Simply put, this means that existence is as universal as logos. However, it
is clear that they can be both universal, only in two utterly different ways. The
universality of existence must obviously take on the form of a ‘no,’ and as such
has nothing to do with its counterpart in the ‘yes’ of logos—except for the fact
that they are both universal, of course. While in the domain of ‘yes,’ as essentially
static, universality is thought of as a rigid structure covering the totality of time
and space—Rosenzweig uses the phrase ‘always and everywhere’ (immer und
überall)—; in the domain of ‘no,’ as essentially dynamic, a form of universality
can be found only in the iterative process of a constant renewal—whose keyword
is for Rosenzweig ‘always anew’ (allzeit erneut).
Rosenzweig thinks of existence as based on two distinguishing traits: (1) its
inborn incompleteness and (2) its striving for completeness. These two points
emerge from the following passage, in which Rosenzweig says that existence “is
needy, in need not only of its own renewal, but, as the whole of existence itself,
still in need of—being. Because being, absolute and universal, is what existence
is lacking and also what it […] calls for, to acquire stability and truth” (134).
Existence aspires to the completeness of being, however, “its own being […]
cannot guarantee this to it, because that being is left behind, in the unessential
appearance of the Pre-World. It is thus necessary that an ‘external’ being […]
takes on the ramification150 of existence. Under the wing of such a being, which
would provide it with stability and truth, the creatureliness (Kreatürlichkeit) of
existence presses to emerge” (ibid.).
149 In general, for a conversion to be such, it is necessary that its two stages, that is start
and end point, share at least one content. If they did not, there would be no reason
to consider them two different phases of the same process: they would be just two
unrelated states of things.
150 Ramification is the distinctive feature of logos, and it keeps characterizing also that
evolution of logos that existence is.
160 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Not only existence is constitutively defective, it does not even have the means
to overcome its condition on its own. The completeness the world, as existence,
looks for cannot be found in the world itself, but only in the world tending toward
another being—another sphere of reality. The second feature of existence, then,
turns out to be something more than a generic ‘striving for completeness.’ More
precisely, it is a ‘search for fulfillment through a reference to an external being’—
that is a reference to otherness. In addition, the two features that define existence
on the ontological level—in short: incompleteness and need for otherness—have
repercussions also on the epistemological and temporal levels. Epistemologically
speaking, creation is for the world the realization of its creatureliness, while from
a temporal perspective, being created is a process still in progress.
In three passages, Rosenzweig describes the meaning of creation from the
creature’s point of view. Although with different wording, each excerpt expresses
the same conception: creation, for the creature, is basically a matter of conscious-
ness—and thus an epistemological matter. (1) “[Creation] from [the world’s] side,
means nothing other than the breaking in of the consciousness of its creature-
hood (Geschöpflichkeit),151 the consciousness of being made (Geschaffenwerden)”
(133). (2) “Its being made would be its self-revealing as a creature. [It is] the
consciousness of not having been made just once in the past, but of being con-
stantly created (des immerwährenden Geschöpfseins)” (ibid.). (3) “The world’s
creatural consciousness (Kreaturbewußtsein) [is] consciousness of being made
(Geschaffenwerden), not of having been made (Geschaffenwordensein)” (ibid.).
When dealing with an epistemological topic like that of consciousness, a tem-
poral dimension is also introduced. From the quotes it becomes apparent that
creation is not done once and for all, but is an ongoing process that started in
the past, continues in the present, and will end in the future. However, this is
true only for the world, but not for God—that is only for the passive side of cre-
ation, represented by the creature, but not for the active side, embodied in the
creator. The otherness between God and world in creation is mirrored also in
their respective temporal dimensions. God relates to creation as to something
belonging to the past, a factum, while the world experiences creation as a process
still in fieri: “What for God is past, […] for the world can definitely be still pre-
sent, and it can keep being present till the end of the world; the creation of the
world must find its end only in redemption” (132).
151 True to Rosenzweig’s word choice, the terms Kreatürlichkeit and Geschöpflichkeit are
translated, respectively, with ‘creatureliness’ and ‘creaturehood.’ However, the two
elements of each couple, in both German and English, are to be considered synonyms.
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 161
To explain the temporal gap between the two poles of creation, Rosenzweig
analyzes the sentence ‘God created the world.’ Like every sentence in an active
form, it expresses the point of view of its subject, while it does not say anything
about its object—except for the fact that it has some kind of relation with the
subject. The action is determined only for the subject, while it remains open
for the object. Moreover, only God (the subject) and his relationship with the
world (the object) can be described in the past tense, as creation is concluded
only for the creator. For the creature, on the contrary, creation is still an open
process. In Rosenzweig’s own words: “[only from God’s perspective] the past
form is valid, the ‘once and for all’ of the sentence; while for the world, its being
made (Geschaffenwerden) does not necessarily end with the creative act God
performed once and for all” (ibid.).
152 Grasping the difference between irreversibility and necessity is more often than not a
matter of perspective. A parte post—that is, after an event has occurred—nothing can
be done to erase it from reality. Factum infectum fieri nequit—and this impossibility
lends itself easily to be confused with necessity. However, the difference between the
two notions becomes evident a parte ante—that is, before the event. Anything nec-
essary can be predicted exactly by virtue of its necessity. It may be taken for granted
even before its actual occurrence. But an authentic event is by nature unpredictable.
While necessity remains constant, irrespective of the particular point of view each
time assumed, the unpredictability of an event—a parte ante—acts as a foundation for
its irreversibility—a parte post.
The ontological distinction between irreversibility and necessity is at the very core
of Pareyson’s ontology of freedom (see Pareyson 1995: 32).
153 By ‘leap’ Kierkegaard means a transition that cannot be accounted for by a series of
logical steps. It is a movement of thought that leads beyond the boundaries of reason
and, in this sense, can be said to be ‘irrational.’
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 163
154 This is the long excerpt from Der Stern der Erlösung, in which Rosenzweig makes this
point clear: “No, God, too, had to be known and, consequently, cease to be origin
and thus become content for the principle of all that is known. Instead of God there
had to appear a different origin of the world, including maybe possibly God himself.
But since the appearance of the notion of creation in revelation, it could no longer be
ignored that the world itself is not its own origin, but that because of its enclosedness
in itself (Insichgeschlossenheit), it demands an origin outside itself; so at most the self
can still be envisaged as taking the place of that origin” (GS 2: 152).
164 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
production goes from the ‘I’ through the world of things; these arrange them-
selves in a series, a ‘descending path,’ from the pure ‘I’ to the ‘not-I’ ” (152–153).
While emanation involves God and the world, idealistic production establishes
a relationship between the self (the ‘I’) and the world (the ‘not-I’). As the cer-
tainty of the self represents a more solid basis than the idea of God could ever do,
the self-based production of idealism turns out to succeed where God-centered
emanation proves to fail: in meeting the standards of pure rationality.
Despite their differences, emanation and production are two attempts—
respectively less and more successful—to oppose creation in a rational way.
This common purpose determines the characteristics they share as their dis-
tinguishing features, to wit, proportionality and commensurability between the
elements they connect. Emanation explains worldly existence in terms of all
things flowing out from God, in such a way that they are progressively less per-
fect than their divine source, but remain constantly connected to it.155 Idealistic
production, on the other hand, sees the world as a developmental phase in the
self-movement of the spirit. In this view, the otherness between producer and
product—that is between self and world—is posited for the sole purpose of being
overcome at a later stage. The poles of production are thus proportional and com-
mensurable to each other, as they are not thought of as different entities, but
rather only as different moments in the development of the same entity.
The categories of ‘proportionality’ and ‘commensurability’ serve the cause
of rationality, as they contrast sharply with the category of ‘otherness,’ and
thus also with the irrationality this leads to. It has already been observed that
starting from a condition of radical otherness—as is the case with creation—
leads to conceiving of relations as based on free and irrational leaps. To obtain
a rational relation instead, it is necessary to eradicate what would act in it as
a source of irrationality, that is an original condition of separation between its
elements. Otherness, in other words, must be replaced with something that is
not an obstacle to, but rather a condition for rationality. Something like propor-
tionality and commensurability, then, whose essential continuity ensures the
155 The arguably most important exponent of emanationism is Plotinus. In his work,
The Enneads, he writes: “All beings […] produce, from their essence and by virtue of
their power, some existence around themselves, which is continuously attached to them
[…]: thus fire gives out its heat; snow is cold not merely to itself; fragrant substances
are a notable example; for, as long as they last, something is diffused from them and
perceived wherever they are present. All beings […] engender, therefore the perfect
being [God] engenders eternally” (Plotinus, Enneads: V, 1, 6, 1–2, my emphasis).
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 165
behind for a more mature state of relationality. For Nietzsche, on the contrary,
conceiving of the world as a closed, self-sufficient realm is part and parcel of the
new dimension of freedom the eternal return represents.
Nietzsche’s line of reasoning to account for the world through the notion of
eternal return revolves around three main arguments, differently expounded and
combined in some posthumous fragments between 1881 and 1888: (1) the finite
amount of power; (2) the never-ending, ongoing becoming of reality; and (3) the
infinity of time. Points 1 and 3 are mentioned in the following fragment: “The
amount of power of the all is determined, not infinite. […] On the contrary, time,
in which the all exercises its power, is infinite” (KGA 5.2: 421. 1881, 11–202).
Point 2 is made through a reduction ad absurdum, that is by showing the contra-
dictoriness of any form of stasis: if power were not continually in motion, “one
should conclude that it is active only from a certain point on and that it will
stop—but thinking of a beginning of activity is absurd; if it were in a condition
of balance, this would last forever!” (KGA 5.2: 456. 1881, 11–305).
The total amount of power must be a constant (point 1). If there were the
possibility of a decrease, given the infinity of time—both onwards into the future
and backwards into the past—power would be completely depleted by now. On
the other hand, if power could grow, the questions would be left unanswered
as to what it could grow out of and where it could find nourishment for such
a growth (see KGA 5.2: 423. 1881, 11–213). Obviously, they are both rhetor-
ical questions: if the power is ‘of the all,’ as it indeed is, there is nothing outside
of the all that could possibly serve as a source of new, additional power, for the
simple reason that, if the all had an ‘outside,’ it would not be ‘the all.’ “The world,
as power, cannot be thought of as unlimited […]—we refrain from conceiving
of power as infinite, because it is incompatible with the very notion of ‘power’ ”
(KGA 7.3: 280–281. 1885, 36–15).
Worldly becoming is continuous (point 2). For Nietzsche, the contrary of
becoming, as essentially dynamic, is being, as essentially static. Starting from
this main difference, he argues that if the world “were capable of staying still
and stiffening, if it were capable of a ‘being;’ if, in the whole of its becoming,
the world had, even for a moment, this capability of ‘being,’ worldly becoming
would have finished long ago” (ibid.). If a static condition of being were possible,
it would have been already reached in the past, because “an infinity has gone
by already, that is every possible development must have already taken place”
(KGA 5.2: 421. 1881, 11–202). If the balance of being had already been reached,
it could not have been disturbed again to allow of becoming, because that would
have implied the intervention of some power external to the all—which is a plain
contradiction. The evidence of becoming in the present (Thatsache des Werdens),
Between God and World: The Path of Creation 167
then, implies its continuity through time, based on the general impossibility
of being.
That time is infinite (point 3) does not need any particular justification in
Nietzsche’s view. Together with the other two points, it allows the deduction of the
next relevant step in Nietzsche’s reasoning: the impossibility of always-new states
of things. At this juncture, it is important to clarify the meaning of the adjective
‘new’ in this context. It is not to be understood in the sense of ‘additional,’ but in
the sense of ‘different from any other.’ What Nietzsche considers impossible, in
other words, is not an ongoing succession of states of things, that is the fact that
for every state of things, an additional one is always due to emerge. On the con-
trary, this is actually the conclusion reached in point 2. What Nietzsche denies,
then, is the possibility that every state differs from every preceding one. In this
sense of ‘new,’ “a becoming that is always-new is a contradiction. It would pre-
suppose an always-growing force” (KGA 5.2: 423. 1881, 11–213).
In an even more explicit fragment, Nietzsche says that “there has already
been an infinite number of states of force, but not an infinite number of different
states of force” (KGA 5.2: 428. 1881, 11, 232). A finite amount of power (point
1) that constantly changes its arrangement (point 2) in an infinite course of time
(point 3) results in infinite combinations. However, this is a quantitative kind of
infinity, not a qualitative one. That is to say that the combinations are infinite in
number, but not in variety: despite having no end, their sequence cannot consist
of always-new elements, and must therefore contain repetitions. The necessity of
repetition, in other words, is inferred from the impossibility of its contrary: the
impossibility of novelty. But the ‘necessity of repetition’ is just another way of
saying eternal return. Thus the first and the last step of this argumentative path
are finally connected in the lapidary sentence: “the principle of energy conserva-
tion calls for the eternal return” (KGA 8.1: 209. 1886, 5–54).
By way of conclusion, Nietzsche expounds his view thoroughly in a long frag-
ment entitled Die neue Welt-Conception (The new world-conception): “If the
world may be thought of as a certain definite quantity of force and as a certain
definite quantity of centers of force—every other representation being indefinite
and thus useless—it follows that, in the great dice game of existence, it must pass
through a calculable number of combinations. In an infinite time, every possible
combination would, at some time or another, be realized; more: it would be real-
ized an infinite number of times. And since between every combination and its
next recurrence all other possible combinations would have to take place […] a
circular movement of absolutely identical series is thus demonstrated: the world
as a circular movement that has already repeated itself infinitely often and plays
its game in infinitum” (KGA 8.3: 168. 1888, 14–188).
168 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
would kill any chance of relation: identification would lead to excessive closeness
between God and world, thus depriving them of any room for relation; while
indifference would give rise to excessive distance between God and world, thus
making any relation between them equally impossible.
An essential need for otherness is the distinguishing trait of the creature as
existence. A constant reference to another being defines the creature at the
ontological and epistemological levels, while the centrality of otherness is also
mirrored in a temporal gap between creature and creator. The ontological incom-
pleteness of existence makes it turn to an external being to find completeness—
which basically means that its fulfillment depends on its relation to otherness.
From an epistemological point of view, creation consists in the world acquiring
consciousness of being a creature, but, once again, such a consciousness can arise
only in relation to the otherness of a creator. Finally, the gap indwelling in cre-
ation, between the ‘once and for all’ of the creator and the ‘still in progress’ of
the creature—the factum and the in fieri—is the particular form their reciprocal
otherness takes on, when considered from a temporal angle.
A comparison with Hegel and Nietzsche makes even more clear how
Rosenzweig’s account of creation is built on the twin pillars of relationality and
otherness. As different as they may be, the Hegelian conception of production and
the Nietzschean conception of eternal return agree at least in two regards: their
common disregard for otherness and, consequently, their lack of relationality.
Production is a process that presupposes a fundamental commensurability
between the self and the world, so that the otherness between them turns out to
be only superficial, non-radical, as it rests on the more fundamental sameness of
the absolute spirit. But if otherness is not rigorous, relationality cannot be either.
Actually, in the case of production it would be more correct to speak of self-
relationality, with reference to the spirit’s capability of relating to itself by positing
but also sublating otherness.
The eternal return can be considered the Nietzschean reply to the notions of
creation and production. It presents worldly becoming as a cyclic succession, and
necessary repetition, of the many—but not infinite—combinations that can be
obtained from a fixed amount of matter. While creation is based on a radical form
of otherness and production on a superficial form that is subordinate to sameness,
the eternal return distinguishes itself from both by rejecting otherness altogether.
It is an independent process that feeds on itself and does not need to turn to any
other element to be triggered and sustained. As Nietzsche says in one particu-
larly meaningful fragment, the world goes on with a circular movement, along
a continuum without a start or an end. He writes: “The world […] becomes, it
170 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
passes by, but it never started to become and never stopped to pass by. […] It
lives on itself: its excrements are its food” (KGA 8.3: 166. 1888, 14–188).
By way of conclusion, if a keyword were to be chosen to express the overall
meaning of creation in Rosenzweig’s view, it would probably be relational oth-
erness: a two-word phrase would account for the perspectives of both elements
involved. As to the first element, the role God plays as creator can be summa-
rized in the notion of ‘relationality’—the relationality his divine power saves from
fading away, by preventing creation from falling into the extremes of two oppo-
site, non-relational conditions. With regard to the second element, the world’s
involvement in creation can be condensed into the notion of ‘otherness’—the
otherness that molds every aspect of its being a creature. Relational otherness is
then the result of a conceptual combination, of divine relationality and worldly
otherness encountering each other along the path of creation.
[stricto sensu] and nothing else; but that means: it must be nothing else than the
opening up of something enclosed in itself ” (ibid.).
While revelation lato sensu involves all three Urphänomene, revelation stricto
sensu is the specific relationship taking place between God and human being.
Technically speaking, it consists in contact and connection between one of the
two components of God and one of the two components of the human being.
More precisely, the divine dimension that before the conversions was a ‘yes’ and
after the conversions emerges as a ‘no,’ encounters the human dimension that
was born as a ‘no’ but after the conversions changes into a ‘yes.’ The divine side
of revelation, then, has the active and dynamic nature of a ‘no,’ while the human
pole shows the static and passive mode of a ‘yes.’ Moreover, considering that for
Rosenzweig revelation (stricto sensu) mirrors the development of love dynamics,
the ‘no’ of God takes shape as the active love of a lover, while the ‘yes’ of the
human being assumes the role of a beloved.
156 With this phrase Rosenzweig defines revelation also in his Urzelle (see GS 3: 125). It is
particularly meaningful that exactly the same wording is used to indicate revelation,
in the Urzelle, and love, in Der Stern der Erlösung. It indicates that, for Rosenzweig,
revelation identifies fully with love.
Between God and Human Being: The Path of Revelation 173
never exhausted change of expressions, the always new light that shines upon
the eternal features” (183). Not ‘solid,’ ‘immovable,’ or ‘hardened,’ love is rather
‘instantaneous,’ “wholly in the moment and at the point where it loves” (ibid.).
It is an act of self-offering, a giving himself of God (ein Sich-Geben Gottes)157 to
the human being. It is safe to say that in love God ex-poses himself—in the ety-
mological sense of the term158—and that through this latter remark, a negative
character of ‘no’ emerges, along with its dynamic nature.
Phrases like ‘giving itself,’ ‘ex-posing itself,’ ‘offering itself ’ emphasize the
dynamic meaning of divine love, but they also imply a negative significance that
Rosenzweig describes as follows: “the lover—he uproots his love from the stem
of his self, just as the tree bursts forth its branches from out of itself, and just as
each limb breaks out from the trunk, no longer remembering it, and denying it”
(181, my emphasis). That God ex-poses himself in love means that through an act
of love, he places himself outside of himself and in so doing, he denies his pre-
vious being-in-himself. From God’s point of view, the love of revelation is “the
self-negation of a merely mute essence” (179). It makes God change his condi-
tion from being-in-himself, as isolated Urphänomen, to being-for-other, as pole of
a relationship. In other words: in revelation, God negates his being-in-himself for
the sake of his being-for-other.
Despite being dynamic and negative as a ‘no,’ divine love is nonetheless rooted
in the original ‘yes’ of divine essence. This rootedness makes its influence notice-
able in that love conjugates its fleeting nature with a particular form of stability. It
is necessary that the kind of stability that characterizes divine love is a particular
one, because it has the no easy task of accounting for love’s origin from a ‘yes,’
without contradicting its character as a ‘no.’ Love’s stability must be conceived
in an utterly different way than the basic stability of a pure ‘yes’ and more pre-
cisely, it must be devoid of any trace of static character. In other words: while the
stability of a pure ‘yes’ is essentially static, that of a ‘no’ rooted in a ‘yes’ must take
shape as an oxymoronic non-static stability. But, if not in a static character, which
would be incompatible with the dynamism of its being a ‘no,’ what should divine
love find its stability in?
The short answer is: in repetition and intensification of the same dynamic act.
The long answer can be formulated with Rosenzweig’s own words: “love loves
its object a little more every day. This constant increase (stete Steigerung) is the
form of stability (Beständigkeit) in love […]. Love increases because it wants to
be always new; it wants to be always new in order to be able to be stable; […] it
must be stable so that the lover may be not merely the empty bearer of an ephem-
eral emotion” (181–182). Repetition, epitomized in the dynamics of the ‘always
new,’ and intensification, as a ‘constant increase,’ provide divine love with a form
of stability that is dynamic rather than static. As such, it is also the only form of
stability that does not contrast with the evental character of divine love. To sum
up, then: even something essentially fleeting like divine love can—and must—be
stable, but internal contradiction can be avoided only if such stability is based on
dynamic repetition and intensification, rather than on static substantiality.
being is pride, […]. Humility lies in the feeling of being protected. It knows that
nothing can happen to it” (187).
Through the mediation of pride, the conversion of stubbornness into humility
turns out to be a transition from stubborn to humble pride. This means that it
is not a changeover between two radically different concepts, but between two
different modes of the same concept. In other words: it is always pride that can
be stubborn or humble. Now, conceived in terms of humble pride, and thus based
upon a fundamental ‘feeling of being protected’ (Gefühl des Geborgenseins),
human humility finds a perfect match in the notion of love. The same has been
said of God too, of course, but obviously human humility and love do not relate
to each other in the same sense as love represents the divine intervention in rev-
elation. While divine love stands for the love of a lover, human humility embodies
that of a beloved. With a radical change in perspective, then, it is the other side of
the same love which is here at issue.
Like every other ontological value that is not pure and does not emerge
directly out of nothingness, the ‘yes’ of humility is still deeply affected by the ‘no’
of stubbornness it comes from. This means that humility is predominantly a ‘yes,’
but nonetheless it still displays some of the ontological features that are typical of
‘no’-es—above all, some dynamic traits. Going now into greater detail: regarding
human humility receiving divine love, two different—but obviously connected—
aspects can be distinguished: (1) the sense of reverence that the human being
feels for divine love and (2) a feeling of faithfulness to the received love. The
first is static and passive, and as such testifies to human humility being a ‘yes;’
the second lives in a process of constant re-affirmation that, being essentially
dynamic, is a sign of human humility coming from a ‘no.’
A static character is the distinguishing feature of every ‘yes.’ In the partic-
ular case of reverence, Rosenzweig describes reverent love as a context, an
ambient, or an atmosphere the human being is plunged into: “his being loved
is the air in which he lives” (188). Moreover, the specific temporal dimension
of reverent love is “not the singular, always new moment—which would sug-
gest a dynamic slant—but the tranquil duration” (ibid.)—which can be seen as
the temporal counterpart of anything in a state of rest, that is of anything static.
While such images as ‘the air one is immersed in’ or something ‘placidly lasting
in time’ emphasize a static character, other phrases in Rosenzweig’s account lay
the stress on a passive nature. Human reverence, as an aspect of human humility,
epitomizes an aspect of the love of a beloved, whose essential passivity emerges
in that “loving back, for [the human being], consists just in letting himself be
loved” (189).
176 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
159 The dimension of redemption will be analyzed in much more detail in the following
section.
178 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
neighbor-love. Put differently: the human being must have been already touched
by revelation (stricto sensu) to be able to engage in the work of redemption.
Though in two different ways, both creation and redemption depend on rev-
elation, since they can be considered, respectively, its preparation and its further
development—its ‘pre-’ and its ‘post-.’ Thus conceived, revelation (stricto sensu)
turns out to be the center, the cornerstone of Rosenzweig’s picture of reality. And
it is then at this juncture that the general problems arise as to what can possibly
serve as a center for reality; which requisites an element must have to fulfill such
a function; and whether a cornerstone of reality is possible at all. Problems like
these constitute the theoretical context in which Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’
shows its major differences from Hegel’s idealism and Nietzsche’s irrationalism.
And it is precisely in connection with such problems, then, that the character of
the ‘new thinking’ as a third way between two opposite poles emerges particu-
larly clearly.
Irrespective of the answer to the last question, that is, irrespective of the par-
ticular element that in each philosophy acts as such a bridge, what emerges is
the general condition that every philosophical position must satisfy to acquire
scientific character: it must be able to connect subjectivity and objectivity. Now,
this kind of connection, and the scientificity it provides, is one of the highest
achievements of Hegel’s idealistic conception, so that from (at least) this point
of view Rosenzweig can be considered a Hegelian. Despite suggesting dif-
ferent solutions, both Hegel and Rosenzweig turn out to deal with the same
problem: finding a ‘bridge’ that is able to connect subjectivity and objectivity.
For Rosenzweig, the “bridge from the most subjective to the most objective is
thrown by theology’s concept of revelation” (117–118). For Hegel, that bridge
consists in dialectical logic.
In the Introduction to the Wissenschaft der Logik, Hegel says: “Pure science
presupposes the liberation of consciousness from opposition. It contains thought
insofar as the latter is the thing in itself, or [it contains] the thing in itself insofar
as it is just as much pure thought” (W 5: 43). Scientific character is obtained
through “liberation from opposition,” that is by leaving behind for good the
idea that being and thought are two separate dimensions and by acknowledging
instead their identity: “thinking and the determinations of thinking are not
something alien to the things, but are rather their essence, or […] the things and
the thinking of them agree in and for themselves (also our language expresses
a kinship between them);160 […] thinking in its immanent determinations, and
the true nature of things, are one and the same content” (38). But this sameness
is possible because of a connection between thinking and things.
The determinations of thinking—that is, the subjective pole, in this con-
text—and the determinations of things—that is, the objective pole—relate to
one another and develop according to the same logic. And this is precisely the
connecting factor between thought and being, between the subjective and the
objective: the dialectical logic that governs both of them. Hegel’s absolute spirit
represents the combination of the modern principle of subjectivity and the ancient,
metaphysical principle of objectivity.161 The rational structure such a combination
is based on is dialectical logic, which can fulfill its mediation function because it
partakes of both subjectivity and objectivity. More precisely, the subjective char-
acter of logic consists in the fact that it is an expression of a rational, independent
subject, but at the same time logic is also objective, in the sense that it is necessary
and pertains to the real essence of things.162
With regard to the subjectivity of logic, Hegel says: “Critical philosophy did
indeed already turn metaphysics into logic but […] it gave to the logical deter-
minations an essentially subjective significance” (45). The subjective nature of
logic is actually the main thrust of Kant’s criticism, and despite his general anti-
Kantianism, Hegel does not go back on this outcome; rather he starts from it in
order to develop it further. While for Kant the subjectivity of logic replaces the
objectivity of metaphysics—as in his view the notions of traditional metaphysics
turn out to be actually subjective categories, located in the transcendental sub-
ject—Hegel develops the former to the point that it comes to include the latter.
The final moment of Hegel’s system, that is the absolute spirit, is a dimension
that comes from subjectivity but overcomes it, reaching a level that can be rightly
defined as supra-subjective.
The development of the subject into the absolute spirit—which is the task of
the Phänomenologie des Geistes—is not an elevation, but a radical change. The
dimension of the absolute spirit is a dimension that cannot be called ‘subjective’
anymore, as it also comes to acquire objective significance. It does not pertain
only to the subject, it also accounts for objective reality. This means, in other
words, that ‘spirit’ is not synonymous with ‘subject’163—even if Hegel is some-
times ambiguous on this point. Rather, the spirit has a subjective side as well as
an objective one. And what keeps them together is precisely the fact that, broadly
speaking, they are two sub-dimensions of the same wider dimension. The same
rational law that governs the whole of spirit, that is dialectical logic, governs nec-
essarily also its subjective and objective sides, thus serving as a connecting factor
between them.
From a Rosenzweigian perspective, though, the Hegelian connection of sub-
jectivity and objectivity through the mediation of logic is seen as based on a
reduction process. In this view, one may argue that for subjectivity and objectivity
to connect by means of following the same logic, each dimension must be previ-
ously reduced to the part of it that lets itself be governed by dialectical logic.
More precisely, the part of subjectivity the whole of subjectivity is reduced to is
only its rational part, that is (self)-consciousness. Though including it, the subject,
however, is always more than just rational (self)-consciousness. Such notions as
impulse, drive, feeling, or will, for example, fall clearly within the ambit of sub-
ject, but not within that of (self)-consciousness. They are subjective, but not fully
rational. They belong to subjectivity, but do not align to a logical development.
An analogous kind of reasoning applies also to the objective pole. Only the
part of objective reality that is answerable to dialectical logic can be connected
to subjectivity, but once again, the whole of reality is more than just that part. In
a passage on Plato, for example, Hegel writes: “The Platonic idea is nothing else
than the universal, or, more precisely, it is the concept of the object; it is only
in the concept that something has actuality, and to the extent that it is different
from its concept, it ceases to be actual and is a nullity; the side of tangibility and
of sensuous self-externality belongs to this null side” (44–45).164 What emerges
from this quote is a distinction in the sphere of objectivity between two parts: a
conceptualizable and a non-conceptualizable part—a part in which dialectical
logic is in force, and another part which is impervious to that logic. The whole
of objectivity is then reduced to the former only, while the latter is regarded as
‘a nullity.’
The connecting factor through which Hegel keeps the subjective and the objec-
tive together in the absolute spirit is dialectical logic, while for Rosenzweig—it
has been already mentioned above—the same function is fulfilled by the notion
of revelation. The challenge for Rosenzweig, then, consists in conceiving of rev-
elation as displaying the same features that allow logic to serve as a link, while
at the same time avoiding the reduction process that dialectical logic implies.
Revelation, like logic, should be subjective and objective at the same time, but
differently than in the case of logic, the subjectivity and objectivity involved in
revelation should be considered in their wholeness—that is in their rational and
irrational sides.
In Rosenzweig’s view, it is only as event that revelation can connect subjec-
tivity and objectivity. Only when thought of as event, is revelation able to meet
164 It is not often that Hegel praises Plato. Hegel’s criticism of the Platonic notion of ‘idea’
addresses mostly its incapability of accounting for the subjective dimension of thought.
As to the objective dimension, however, this is perfectly captured in the Platonic view,
which is thus a conception Hegel can agree with—and even praise.
182 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
165 More details on the notion of event can be found in the following sections, especially
in ‘Event’ in Philosophy and in Jewish Thought.
Between God and Human Being: The Path of Revelation 183
dialectical logic, prove to be inadequate, but any connection, at this point, turns
out to be impossible.
Through the two main notions of his philosophical thought—that is the ‘will
to power’ and the ‘eternal return’—Nietzsche levels harsh criticism against the
traditional way of conceiving subject and object by means of rational reduction.
The eternal return testifies to the dynamics of reality being always beyond any
rational pattern that tries to account for them. If everything incessantly returns,
no element of reality can be assumed as a privileged reference point. The estab-
lishment of value systems and hierarchies thus turns out to be impracticable
and consequently the basic conditions for rationality to apply cannot be met.
Far from exhausting itself in being rationally grasped—that is in becoming an
object of thought—reality as it emerges from the theory of the ‘eternal return’
is devoid of any form of rationality and thus impervious to rational logic. In
short: the eternal return tells what happens to the pole of objectivity when it
develops beyond the rational limitations the previous philosophy—that ‘from
Ionia to Jena’—imposed on it.166
As to the subjective pole, it undergoes a similar process of dissolution, whose
ultimate meaning is summarized in the notion of ‘will to power.’ This represents
the last form the modern principle of subjectivity takes on, but it is a development
that, in its last step, turns into a dissolution. In this view, the ‘will to power’ acts
in the context of subjectivity in the same way as the eternal return does in that
of objectivity: it shows the extreme consequences the principle of subjectivity is
led to, once it frees itself from the burden of sticking to a rational constitution.
Actually, what Nietzsche delineates is a real role reversal: not only does will no
longer depend on logic and rationality, but, quite the contrary, logic and ratio-
nality also turn out to be products of will. Nietzsche writes: “[…] logic is just the
μηχανή (mēkhan )167 of will” (KGA 3.3: 69. 1869, 3–32).
The conclusion Nietzsche comes to, however, does not consist in conceiving
a unitary subject, whose innermost character is irrational rather than rational.
For him, the very notion of ‘unity’ is still a residue of rationality and as such
166 By introducing the notion of eternal return, Nietzsche shows how the presumed objec-
tivity of reality is in fact not objective at all. His argument consists of two steps: (1) the
eternal return implies nihilism: “The ‘eternal return’ […] is the most extreme form
of nihilism” (KGA 8.1: 217. 1886, 5–71); (2) nihilism reveals objectivity as an unsus-
tainable concept: “Radical nihilism is (…) the understanding that we do not have
the slightest right to postulate […] an ‘in-itself ’ of things (ein An-sich der Dinge)”
(KGA 8.2: 237. 1887, 10–192).
167 The word means ‘tool,’ but also ‘invention’ or even ‘deceit.’
184 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
168 Richard Cohen uses the notion of ‘heteronomy’ to explain this particular aspect,
meaning something that comes from an ‘outside’ the human being has no control
over (see Cohen 1990: 353 ff.).
169 The definition is taken from one of the most recent works dealing with the general no-
tion of ‘event:’ the book Event, by Slavoj Žižek, which provides a comprehensive over-
view of various conceptions and positions. In another passage Žižek says: “Remember
Plato’s description of Socrates when he is seized by an Idea: it is as if Socrates is the
victim of a hysterical seizure, standing frozen on the spot for hours, oblivious of reality
around him—is Plato not describing here an event par excellence, a sudden traumatic
186 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Regarding the subjective side of revelation, Rosenzweig lays the stress on its
reception on the part of the human being, as he defines it in terms of ‘center of
reality,’ a pivotal concept which provides humankind with a sense of direction
in the world: “Revelation is able to be epicenter (Mittelpunkt), firm, immovable
epicenter” (GS 3: 133). With revelation, in other words, the subjective way the
human being is in the world changes radically, as a new reference point provides
reality with a new order.170 In this case, too, a general definition of event confirms
Rosenzweig’s view: “an event [is] a change of the very frame through which we
perceive the world and engage in it” (Žižek 2014: 10). In this second definition,
what can be considered the subjective side of the event is at issue, as the focus is
on the aftermath of an event, on the way the world is subjectively perceived, after
the event has entered reality.
In the last analysis, the same theoretical operation carried out in the case of
creation can be repeated here, in the context of revelation: a single keyword can
be used to summarize the many facets of the relation between God and human
being. Given the strict correlation between Rosenzweig’s view and the notion
of event—through the mediation of love, of course—it is easy to see how the
keyword that more than any other can render the sense of revelation is precisely
‘event’ (on this topic, see also Fortis 2018: 421–428).
becomes revealed creation, that is, creation that is known as such. On the other
hand, revelation stricto sensu is centered in the present. It is an instantaneous
dimension, whose role in Rosenzweig’s system is that of a cornerstone: it reopens
what with creation seemed to be closed, while serving at the same time as a pre-
lude to what comes next, that is redemption, which is an incomplete dimension
aiming at the future.
The ‘last word’ of creation is ‘death:’ “Death is, for each created thing, the ful-
filler (Vollender) of its total thingness (Dinglichkeit)” (GS 2: 173). Each created
thing bears the mark of its creatureliness, that is of its finitude and therefore of its
destiny of death. Against this destiny, however, revelation (stricto sensu) opposes
‘love’. “As keystone of creation, death imprints everything created with the indel-
ible stamp of its creatureliness, with the words ‘has been.’ But love wages war on
it” (174). However, love itself, in its instantaneity, is just a glimpse, a fleeting pro-
phetic sign of the final word for the whole of reality—and indeed of Rosenzweig’s
book. That word is ‘life,’ eternal life, whose eternity has not yet been reached, but
exerts its influence from a distance, like a goal that has to be pursued through
that concrete ‘work’ that redemption consists in.
This latter remark, moreover, clearly reveals the temporal distinctiveness of
redemption, in comparison to creation and revelation (stricto sensu). Creation
is a completed past, and perhaps the temporal adverb that best describes it is
‘already.’ It is the always already given foundation of reality. Revelation (stricto
sensu), on the other hand, is an instantaneous present, perfectly summarized in
the adverb ‘now’. Bursting into reality, revelation (stricto sensu) sheds a new light
on it and revolutionizes the way reality itself is perceived. Redemption, finally, is
a still unreached future. It is the promise of something still to come, something
still incomplete in the present, but potentially complete in the future. This par-
ticular aspect of redemption’s temporal character can be rendered by ‘not yet.’
Rosenzweig says: “what we are looking for is nothing already present, but only
something that is still to come” (249).
In Rosenzweig’s system, redemption is the third relational path, the one that
brings the whole system to its conclusion. While creation connects God and
world, and revelation (stricto sensu) takes place between God and human being,
redemption closes the circle by developing a relationship between human being
and world. Technically speaking, redemption consists in the ‘yes’ of the human
being that, turning into a ‘no’ by way of conversion, moves toward the world. On
the other side of this relational path, the world is involved in redemption with its
‘no’-component that, undergoing the usual conversion, changes its ontological
value into that of a ‘yes.’ In other words: redemption is the encounter between
188 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
a ‘no coming from a yes’—which constitutes the human part in it—and a ‘yes
coming from a no’—representing the contribution from the worldly side.
171 Not ‘by destiny,’ but ‘as by destiny.’ Rosenzweig underscores that an origin from the
‘yes’ of daimon cannot be described in terms of ‘destiny,’ as it would be in order in the
case of God’s essence. What for God is destiny, is for the human being, in a weaker
sense, a ‘direction.’ Both destiny and direction are ‘yes’-es, because both are binding
and established in the ‘once and for all’ mode, but they differ in their binding force.
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 189
proceed from their enclosure of the pre- and under-world toward the light of
revelation [lato sensu]. Now [i.e., after internal reversal] the direction […] is no
longer established once and for all, but at every moment it dies and is renewed”
(ibid.). Simply put: the direction, which is static and binding like a ‘yes,’ takes
on, after conversion, the features of a ‘no,’ in particular, the dynamic nature of a
constant renewal. Now, once the features have been established the human con-
tribution to redemption must display, there remains nothing left to do other than
to identify a specific element which can embody them. “What is this [element]
to be called? […] The answer is not difficult […]. It can be nothing else than
neighbor-love” (ibid.).
As a ‘no coming from a yes,’ neighbor-love partakes of both the stability of
the ‘yes’ it is rooted in and the dynamic nature of the ‘no’ it has become through
ontological conversion. As to the first point, neighbor-love can in fact be seen as
rooted in two different ‘yes’-es. (1) Not only is it the result of internal ontological
reversal applied to the ‘yes’ of human daimon, it also (2) presupposes the recep-
tion of divine love—which is the human part of revelation (stricto sensu) and is
always experienced as a ‘yes.’ Rosenzweig writes: “the human being can exter-
nalize himself in the act of love, only after having been awakened by God. Only
if the human soul is loved by God (die Gottgeliebtheit der Seele), its act of love
becomes more than a mere act, namely the fulfillment of a—commandment of
love. […] Love for God must express itself in neighbor-love” (239).
The response to God’s love does not consist in loving him back, but in
addressing love to other human beings. Actually, the two acts are not thought
of as mutually exclusive, since loving one’s own neighbor is the specific way
of returning divine love. From this point of view, the ‘no’ of human neighbor-
love rests on the revelation-‘yes’ of the human ‘being loved by God,’ which acts
here as a necessary prerequisite: “behind its [of neighbor-love] origin, the pre-
supposition (Voraussetzung) of ‘being loved by God’ becomes visible” (ibid., my
emphasis). Given this presupposition-based relationship, the kind of rootedness
that connects the ‘no’ of giving neighbor-love to the ‘yes’ of receiving divine love
can be described through the adjective ‘external,’ because strictly speaking this
‘yes’ belongs to revelation and affects redemption only indirectly, that is from the
outside.
But another ‘yes’ also lies at the basis of the ‘no’ of neighbor-love: the primor-
dial ‘yes’ of human daimon. This is the second ‘yes’ neighbor-love is rooted in,
and the kind of rootedness displayed in this case is completely different from
that dealt with above. If the dependence of human neighbor-love on divine love
can be said to be of the ‘external’ type, its derivation from human daimon can
certainly be qualified as ‘internal,’ because this ‘yes’ acts as an essential, that is
190 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
172 This particular example is not to be found in any of Rosenzweig’s texts. However, it
is Rosenzweig himself who, on many occasions, avails himself of examples from lin-
guistics and grammar to illustrate some crucial points of his thought. Therefore, this
parallel between neighbor-love and deixis, though not supported by textual evidence,
seems to be true to the spirit of Rosenzweig’s thought.
173 The notion of ‘place-keeper (Platzhalter)’ is here particularly meaningful, as it alludes
to a situation in which there is something constant, that is the place, but also some-
thing that is each time different, that is the subject that takes the place.
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 191
The last sentence is decisive: human neighbor-love “applies to the world.” Seen
from the point of view of the human being, this means that redemption consists
in adopting a particular attitude toward the world, that is toward the ‘neighbor’
that—as it is suggested in the quote—may be another human being, but also
a thing. Describing human neighbor-love with Rosenzweig’s systematic termi-
nology, it is a ‘no coming from a yes,’ actually, from two different ‘yes’-es: from
(1) the revelation-‘yes’ of ‘being loved by God’—which serves as a necessary pre-
supposition—and (2) the primordial ‘yes’ of human daimon—which is the form it
used to have, before undergoing ontological conversion. But leaving aside tech-
nical terminology, neighbor-love is basically something dynamic (it is a ‘no’),
which is nonetheless based on something static (it rests on ‘yes’).
More concretely, finally, neighbor-love is a praxis made up of love acts
performed in everyday life in the context provided by the world. It is the human
way of relating to what plays the role of ‘neighbor’ in each different situation. But
although changing each time in relation to its particular object (once again, as
a ‘no’ it is dynamic and ever-changing), neighbor-love is a general attitude that
always takes shape as a response to the fixed commandment of love that lies at its
roots (once again, it rests on the stability of ‘yes’).
human being, the emergence of the ‘yes’ chronologically preceded the emer-
gence of the ‘no:’ God created ‘first’ and ‘then’ revealed himself, the human being
‘first’ received the revelation and ‘then’ got ready to work in the world; each time
what had happened once and for all (das einfürallemal Geschehene) preceded
what was happening in the moment (das augenblickshaft Geschehende); but this
temporal relationship is reversed for the world” (243).
God and human being, in opening themselves to the dimension of relational
paths, seem to follow a specific sequence: first they mobilize their ‘yes’-es, that
is the static component of their essences, and only afterwards do they put their
‘no’-es into action, that is their dynamic impulses. But for the world this sequence
runs the other way around. That is, for the world the first component to come
into play is the dynamic ‘no,’ as one of the poles of creation, while its static ‘yes’ is
solicited only at a later stage, when it is involved in redemption. “The reason for
this exceptional position (Sonderstellung) of the world resides in what we have
already shown in the transition from Part One to Part Two: God and human
being already are, the world is becoming. The world is not complete yet” (244).
The stability of being and essence (in a word, the ‘yes’) is already made for God
and human being, while it is still in the making for the world.
Like every other element that undergoes inversion, the worldly contribution
to redemption acquires a particular ontological value once it gets involved in
the relational path, even though it used to have the opposite value in the pri-
mordial dimension it comes from. In short: it comes to be a ‘yes,’ but used to
be a ‘no.’ Moreover—this time unlike every other element—the world takes part
in redemption with a still incomplete component or rather, with a component
that can be seen as ‘complete’ only if projected onto a future scenario. To put
it at its simplest: the worldly side of redemption should be (1) a ‘yes coming
from a no’ that as such merges the stability of the former with the dynamic char-
acter of the latter. At the same time, it should also be (2) something still incom-
plete, but capable of completion in the future. And actually there is something
like this in the world which fulfills all the above-mentioned conditions—“it is
called: life” (248).
In the world, life performs the function of ‘yes’ that comes from the ‘no’
of worldly plenitude. The latter is an ever-changing dimension and the very
terms Rosenzweig uses to describe it are revelatory of its dynamic nature: “the
instantaneously happening” (243), “the self-negating action” (244), or “the self-
negating phenomenal manifestation” (ibid.). All of them emphasize the tran-
sitory character of something instantaneous, governed by the dynamism of a
constant becoming. Now, for structural-systematic reasons, the ‘no’ of worldly
plenitude must turn into the ‘yes’ of life, thus acquiring features that are at odds
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 193
with those mentioned above.174 At this juncture, then, the question is how the
notion of ‘life’ should be thought of in order to qualify as a ‘yes:’ “But then what
is a plenitude that is lasting, an individuality that has in it something that does
not die, but, once there, stays there?” (247).
So this is the answer to the question: for life to act as a static ‘yes,’ it should
be thought of in terms of permanence; as something that, resisting change and
becoming, opposes the process of dying away that characterizes the transient
‘no’ of worldly plenitude. In this view, life is a sort of inertial resistance, thus
showing—or, at least, aiming to have—the features that are typical of every
‘yes:’ stability, consistency, and durability. “But what does this being-alive mean,
then, as opposed to mere existence? Really only what we have just now already
said: the figure that is its very own, forming itself, coming out from within, and
hence necessarily lasting. […]. Life offers resistance; it resists death. It supports
the inherent weakness of creatural existence […], by providing firm, immovable,
structured essences” (248). Thus conceived, life constitutes a background of sta-
bility (‘yes’) that contrasts with the ephemerality (‘no’) of existence.
The stability that makes life a ‘yes’ is based upon its resistance to worldly
becoming in general, and to the destiny of death it leads to in particular. However,
life cannot provide an all-out opposition to death. Life can only curb, but not
prevent, the inevitable end of everything worldly. “As life preserves its duration
(Dauer) through resistance, it is clear that it does not entirely correspond to what
we are looking for. […]. We were looking for an infinite duration that could serve
as a foundation or a support for existence, which is always confined to the mo-
ment. In other words, we were looking for a substance of the world under the
phenomena of its existence” (ibid.). Worldly life provides but a finite duration
and thus a limited opposition to death. Only infinite life, on the contrary, would
have an infinite duration and could thus contrast becoming and death effectively.
As a matter of fact, opposing or even defeating death is the ultimate goal of
redemption. In a nutshell, the whole book Der Stern der Erlösung can be described
as a path from death to life through love—which parallels the path from creation
to redemption through revelation. A condition of mortality pertains to creation
essentially. The love of revelation is what opposes that condition,175 thus opening
out onto a future of life, in which death is overcome and defeated for good. Such
174 “The plenitude, [which] had entered into the pre-world as instantaneous […] must
now return as something lasting, something stable” (247).
175 One of the most quoted sentences from Der Stern der Erlösung is about the conflict
between death and love: “Love is as strong as death” (174).
194 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
176 “For there belongs to the future above all the anticipation” (252); and “Because it is
critical for the future that it can and must be anticipated” (261).
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 195
178 “The world carries the law of its growing life. But how this life, which grows in it and,
in every new self-articulating member (in jedem neu sich gliedernden Glied), claims
permanence, should really attain that permanence, that is whether it must be accorded
immortality, this remains obscure for the world” (268, my emphasis).
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 197
179 As is well known, Hegel is for Rosenzweig the leading exponent of the ‘from-Ionia-
to-Jena’-philosophy. In Hegel’s view, the notion of ‘universality’ is so essential to phil-
osophical reasoning that philosophy itself starts up only when human thought comes
to conceive of that notion: “Philosophy—says Hegel—starts there, where the universal
is conceived of as the all-embracing being, or where being is thought of in a universal
way” (W 18: 115).
180 “Thinking and being are actually the same (τὸ γὰρ αὐτὸ νοεῖν ἐστίν τε καὶ εἶναι)”
(DK 28: B3).
198 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
181 The following reading of Hegel’s understanding of theory and praxis is indebted
to Adriaan Peperzak’s and Stephen Houlgate’s reflections. See Peperzak (1987) and
Houlgate (1995).
182 While it is true that ‘being’ does not always correspond to ‘object’ and ‘thought’ is not
always synonym for ‘subject,’ this double correspondence seems to be valid in this
particular context.
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 199
It is the practical mode of the spirit and consists in exteriorizing and positing as
a real being what for the spirit is initially only its own. These two modes of the
spirit are presented as equally ranked and symmetrical, but some elements may
lead such symmetry to be called into question.
First of all, § 481 suggests a subordination of the practical to the theoretical.
The text reads: “Free will [i.e. the practical faculty of the spirit] is free will for
itself, because it has overcome [aufgehoben] formalism, contingency, and nar-
rowness of its practical content. By overcoming the mediation therein contained,
[will] purifies itself and becomes universal determination. Will has now this uni-
versal determination as its own object and aim. Moreover, as it thinks itself and
knows its own concept, will is like free intelligence” (300). What emerges from
this passage is a conception that sees will becoming free, by overcoming its prac-
tical content and reaching universality. This is possible, because will comes to
think itself and to know its own concept, that is it comes to be self-conscious and
thus intelligence-like. In other words, this paragraph suggests that will evolves by
dismissing its practical nature and acquiring theoretical properties.
Will becomes free, by thinking of itself as free. The awareness of its own
freedom leads will to see itself as the source of the possibility of acting in the
world. The acquisition of this kind of knowledge requires an act of abstraction,
which Hegel, in the Philosophie des Rechts, describes in these terms: “[E]very
limit […] is dissolved. […]. Will is the possibility of abstraction from every
aspect in which the ‘I’ finds itself or has set itself up. It reckons any content as
a limit and flees from it” (W 7: 50). Will evolves into free will, by cutting itself
off from every specific feature (Bestimmung), by rejecting particularity and thus
reaching a dimension of universality. In this view, becoming free is tantamount
to acquiring consciousness of universality—which is one of the defining factors
of theoretical intelligence. As Hegel summarizes: “this liberation is theoretical in
nature” (VR: 4, 108).
‘Thinking itself,’ ‘knowing itself,’ as well as ‘universal determination’ all fall
within the sphere of theory rather than within that of praxis. ‘Will’ passes over
into ‘free will.’ It becomes ‘free’ and advances within the system by becoming less
practical and more theoretical, so to speak. Considering now the general rule of
Hegel’s system—according to which every determination is more concrete and
higher ranking than those preceding it—it is safe to conclude that the category
of ‘will,’ along with its still practical complexion, is less concrete and thus lower
ranking than the category of ‘free will,’ which has already changed its nature from
practical to theoretical. But this also means that in the internal economy of the
Hegelian system the still practical character of ‘will’ is subordinated to the already
200 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
theoretical character of ‘free will’—so that in general, praxis turns out to be sub-
ordinated to theory.
A glance at the general structure of Hegel’s system provides another argu-
ment in favor of that subordination. The philosophy of spirit is divided into three
sections: subjective, objective, and absolute spirit. While the first and the third
part are plainly theoretical—finitely and abstractly theoretical the former; infi-
nitely and concretely theoretical the latter—the second part, the objective spirit,
is the compendium of Hegel’s entire practical philosophy, so that its position
within the system speaks volumes about the role and consideration praxis is
given in Hegel’s thought. Now, this position is an intermediate one; the objec-
tive spirit acts as a bridge between subjective and absolute spirit—that is between
basis and conclusion, starting and end point of the whole philosophy of spirit.
In this view, praxis figures as a necessary, but subordinate domain: a transitional
phase between more fundamental and more conclusive stages.
This interpretation finds correspondence also in Rosenzweig’s general assess-
ment of Hegel’s dialectical method. Rosenzweig says: “the antithesis becomes
the mere mediation between the establishment and the re-establishment of the
thesis, and in this constant rediscovery of the thesis, the work of knowledge is
carried out toward an always profounder cognition. […]. This conception of the
synthesis therefore implies quite essentially a mediation by the antithesis; the
antithesis is transformed only in the transition from the thesis to the synthesis;
it is not itself the original” (GS 2: 256, my emphasis). The first (thesis) and the
third (synthesis) moment are the focal points of the process, which is primarily a
theoretical one, as based on ‘knowledge’ and aimed at ‘profounder cognition.’ In
the philosophy of spirit, finally, the marginal role of the antithesis is that of the
objective spirit, which corresponds to a minor role for praxis.
To sum up, then: one of the main differences between ‘old’ philosophy and
‘new thinking’ lies in the way each of them sees the relationship between theory
and praxis: a difference that is then mirrored in what is thought to be the role
of the human being in the world. (1) In the ‘old’ philosophy’s view—as epito-
mized in Hegel’s idealism—the human being should approach the world with
a theoretical attitude, with the aim of building up a form of knowledge about it.
(2) According to Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking,’ the human being’s main task is
instead acting in the world, practicing neighbor-love with the aim of ensouling
and thus redeeming the world. In the second case, then, the approach is practical
rather than theoretical. This does not mean that there is no room for theory in
the ‘new thinking,’ but the traditional theory-praxis relationship is overturned in
it: it is theory now that depends on and lives off praxis.
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 201
183 The basic principle of immature nihilism is that equally immature form of ‘will to
power’ that Nietzsche calls ‘will to truth’ (Wille zur Wahrheit).
202 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
184 In this context, the term ‘subject’ has obviously nothing to do with its metaphysical
acceptation as cogito, or self, or I, etc. Rather, it indicates a conception of ‘power’ as
the internal impulse that is at work in the will.
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 203
the will want something, its inner driving force, the impulse that gratuitously
animates will from within. As Gilles Deleuze effectively summarizes: “Power is
not what the will wants [i.e. not the object], but what, from within the will, wants
[i.e. the subject]—that is, Dionysus” (Deleuze 1967: 278).
The notion of ‘gratuitousness,’ which defines the new conception of ‘will to
power’ as gift-giving virtue, has its main feature in a general ‘absence of purpose.’
In Nietzsche’s view, such absence is a crucial condition for human praxis to take
shape in terms of creativity and freedom,185 because a goal to aim at, as well as
the rational path needed to reach it, would necessarily restrict the unfolding of
any free and creative activity. Goals and goal-oriented rationality appear here
as residues of that old ratio-based forma mentis that Nietzsche thinks should be
overcome for good. In his view, it is clear that every pursued goal would repre-
sent a stable reference point, whose stability may probably satisfy the ‘need for
certainty’ of immature nihilism, but would definitely contrast with the new ‘plea-
sure in uncertainty’ the transvaluation of all values ushers in.
It is precisely with regard to the presence or absence of purposes that
Rosenzweig’s and Nietzsche’s conceptions of praxis show their major differences.
The primacy of praxis over theory, which both acknowledge, develops then in
different directions for each of them. For Rosenzweig, the human praxis in the
world should consist in concrete acts of neighbor-love, which, ensouling the
world, are aimed at and contribute to reaching the future goal of redemption.
On the other hand, for Nietzsche, human praxis expresses itself in a form of free
and exuberant creativity that cannot tolerate having a goal, since the fixity of a
point to aim at would be perceived as a limitation for the constitutive fluidity of
freedom. For both Rosenzweig and Nietzsche praxis prevails over theory, but a
decisive difference lies in the character of praxis each of them thinks of: a goal-
oriented one, for Rosenzweig; and a form of free creativity without purpose, for
Nietzsche.
185 “Creating: this is the great liberation from suffering, and life’s alleviation. […]. Willing
makes free: this is the true doctrine of will and freedom” (KGA 6.1: 106-107).
204 The Three Paths in Rosenzweig’s ‘New Thinking’
Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking,’ that is, the capability of charting a third way between
the first way of Hegel’s idealism and the second way of Nietzsche’s irrationalism.
The two words composing the phrase, that is the participle adjective ‘oriented’
and the noun ‘praxis,’ testify to the middle position taken in Rosenzweig’s
thought, with each marking a distance from one of the two extremes of ide-
alism and irrationalism. In short: ‘oriented praxis’ distances itself from ideal-
istic positions, because it is ‘praxis,’ and from Nietzsche’s stances, because it is
‘oriented.’
But the two words ‘oriented’ and ‘praxis’ correspond also to the two elements
involved in redemption: world and human being. ‘Praxis’ stands for the human
attitude toward the world, which, in turn, is seen as the context concrete acts
should take place in, rather than as an object of theoretical knowledge. On the
other hand, ‘oriented’ describes the world in its constitutive tendency toward
a fulfillment in the future, while at the same time indicating its being essen-
tially in progress, and thus also its incompleteness in the present. Rosenzweig
writes: “[The human being] knows only that he must always love what is nearest
and its neighbor; while the world grows in itself, apparently according to its own
law; and world and human being will find each other today, or tomorrow, or who
knows when—the times are unpredictable” (GS 2: 269, my emphasis).
The stress should be laid on “they will find each other.” The sentence conjures
up the idea of two independent movements, whose developments end up con-
verging on a final point. Now, that point is redemption; and the two movements
are, obviously, the human and the worldly contributions to it. From the one side
human praxis, consisting in acts of neighbor-love, progresses toward the final
goal of redemption; while from the other side worldly life keeps growing with
its oriented advancement toward the same end point. This final destination is
explicitly defined in terms of completeness (see 266). But at the same time it
is also distinguished from the Uni-Totality of philosophical thought: “This [the
All of redemption] is the true All, the All that does not split into pieces as in the
world of the nothing [i.e. the pre-world (Vorwelt)], but the one All, the All and
One” (428).
Both forms of totality open out onto a dimension of eternal life and immor-
tality as a ‘solution’ to the “fear of death” (3) which represents the incipit of Der
Stern der Erlösung. This means that for Rosenzweig too, and not only for Hegel,
“an All would not die, and in the All, nothing would die. Only that which is
singular can die” (4). But a profound difference between them lies obviously in
the way they conceive of that ‘All.’ In both cases, the human fate of mortality is
overcome by abandoning the plane of reality on which death is in force—that is
the plane of individuality—and by reaching another plane, from which death is
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 205
that freedom and creativity that characterize Nietzsche’s idea of how the human-
world relationship should be.
Returning now to the key word chosen for redemption, ‘oriented praxis’ marks
a double difference from its counterparts in Hegel’s and Nietzsche’s thought.
On the one hand, the focus set on praxis, rather than on theory, distinguishes
Rosenzweig’s conception of the human-world relationship from the Hegelian
view. On the other hand, that human praxis is thought of as oriented—and thus
to some extent certain—determines a major divergence between Rosenzweigian
and Nietzschean conceptions.
Beyond Philosophy: The ‘New Thinking’
as Jewish
186 “[…] the center (die Mitte) comes in as the authentic sense of the development between
origin and end (zwischen Anfang und Ende)—in the gap of gradualness, the evental
suddenness” (GS 3: 587).
208 Beyond Philosophy: The ‘New Thinking’ as Jewish
187 See the section Truth as Relation, in particular the sub-section Ex positivo.
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 209
idealism or irrationalism, that is, either Charybdis or Scylla. Both options are
unsatisfactory. But if this alternative is all that the philosophical way of thinking
has to offer, then maybe, in order to go further and find a third way out of this
impasse, it may be necessary to abandon—in part, at least—the very terrain of
philosophy. And this is exactly the conclusion Rosenzweig seems to draw: to
overcome the limitations of philosophy—be it ‘old’ or ‘new’—extra- or even anti-
philosophical motives have to be integrated into it.
The ‘new thinking’ thus takes shape as a combination of philosophical and
non-philosophical elements; a combination, in which the non-philosophical part
corresponds for Rosenzweig to the contribution of Jewish thought. At this junc-
ture, however, the following questions arise: (1) what does Rosenzweig mean by
‘Jewish thought’? And (2) what does the specifically Jewish contribution to his ‘new
thinking’ consist in?
(1) The first question is dealt with in some lecture drafts Rosenzweig wrote between
1920 and 1921. A first approach to the problem can be found in Grundriss des
jüdischen Wissens (1921), where Jewish knowledge is defined by the adjective
“immediate” (unmittelbar) (GS 3: 579), in contrast to other forms of knowledge
such as the philosophical one, which are based on conceptual mediation. It is
the Anleitung zum jüdischen Denken (1921), however, which offers the most
in-depth look at what it means for Rosenzweig “to think Jewishly” (jüdisch
denken) (597). The core notions he considers in the text are ‘common sense’
(gesunder Menschenverstand) and ‘philosophy, or thought of the actually.’ The
former epitomizes Jewish thought; the latter is an expression of that mindset
that was born in ancient Greece and, through various developments, continues
down to Hegel’s idealism and Nietzsche’s irrationalism.
Rosenzweig writes: “Philosophy has never been universally human. Universally
human was, is and will be common sense. And philosophy has always despised
it, from the very beginning” (ibid.). Philosophy is seen as a systematic search for
the essence of things, that is for what they actually are. It is a way of thinking that
does not let reality be just what it is, but rather obliges every element to be actu-
ally something else, that is to find its essence in something different from itself.
“[The word] ‘actually’ is always nonsense. But philosophy has always said ‘actu-
ally.’ Everything is actually water—Thales’ sentence is typical (no matter then if
it is water or spirit or will188 or movement or matter or idea or God). Common
188 The fact that ‘will’ is also mentioned among other basic principles shows that for
Rosenzweig the ‘new’ philosophy of Schopenhauer and Nietzsche is actually not that
Between Human Being and World: The Path of Redemption 211
sense never says ‘actually’ ” (ibid.), it does not give rise to the same abstraction
process as philosophy does; rather it stays true to the concreteness of real life.
For Rosenzweig, it is precisely this connection to lived reality that establishes
a deep affinity between common sense and Jewish thought against philosophy.
As is clearly expounded in the key passage of the text, Rosenzweig writes: “Q.: Is
that Jewish thought? A.: Yes. Q.: And its contrary? A.: Greek thought, thought of
the ‘actually’ [that is, in other words, philosophy]” (598). And again: “We want
to find the courage of Jewish thought, that is to say, the courage of using our
common sense” (ibid., my emphasis). With regard to this quote, it is probably not
stretching the point to lay the stress on the adverb ‘that is to say,’ because it is here
that common sense and Jewish thought are literally equated with each other,
while at the same time being both opposed to philosophy.
(2) In his texts of 1920–1921, Rosenzweig says what Jewish thought is opposed
to and what it is similar to, but he never tries to explicitly say what it is. A sort
of reluctance to clearly define what makes a thought ‘Jewish’ is actually quite
understandable on Rosenzweig’s part, as the very fact of giving a definition,
in general, would be tantamount to answering a Was-ist-Frage—that is the
criticized question about the essence. In so doing, a pillar of the philosoph-
ical forma mentis would end up strengthened, rather than rejected. And
Jewish thought, which is supposed to oppose philosophy, would surrepti-
tiously adopt a philosophical strategy. A less ambitious way of dealing with
the problem might consist in asking the question when a form of thought
can be said to be ‘Jewish.’ Unfortunately, however, an answer to this question
is also missing in Rosenzweig’s corpus.
The most prudent answer to the question about the Jewishness of thought could
read thus: a view qualifies as ‘Jewish,’ when it is developed in dialogue with and
is influenced by the Old Testament, Jewish texts, and/or related conceptions.189
According to this criterion, then, the Jewish dimension in the ‘new thinking’
different from the ‘old’ one: both forms are characterized by an essential tendency to
reduce everything to a unique principle.
189 Compare the similar—but not identical—‘criterion of Jewishness’ adopted by Norbert
Samuelson for his work on the doctrine of creation (see Samuelson 1994). See also
the definition of Jewish philosophy Nathan Rotenstreich suggests: “Jewish philos-
ophy appears as the philosophical interpretation of Jewish sources, ‘sources’ being
understood to include both literary documents and modes of actual life. Philosophy
makes explicit that which is only implicit in literary documents, or presupposed as
an underlying principle of behavior” (Rotenstreich 1985: 73).
212 Beyond Philosophy: The ‘New Thinking’ as Jewish
190 “World and human being are not in a privileged position compared to God (sind nicht
besser gestellt)” (GS 3: 619). In this sentence, Rosenzweig considers world and human
being on the one hand, and God on the other, but the relationship he sees between
them is a symmetrical one, so that no privileged position can be claimed for any of
the three Urphänomene.
Creation: Relational Otherness – Bereshit 1 213
they could by no means be considered on the same level, as the creator would
always maintain a position of superiority over his creation. In short: the condi-
tion of otherness would be satisfied, but not that of equality.191
One might argue that Rosenzweig rejects the conception of creation ex nihilo
in order to preserve his own notion of otherness as equal and symmetrical.
Obviously, such a rejection does not come without difficulties, and Rosenzweig
himself is well aware of the problem when he writes: “It seems paradoxical, at
first glance, to assert that the world has been created ‘after’ its completion as
configuration. At the very least, it seems that we have moved irrevocably away
from the traditional concept of creation out of ‘nothing.’ For us, the world has
already emerged out of ‘nothing’ as configuration. Should the configured world
become nothing again, in order to represent the ‘nothing’ out of which the world
would have been created? This is how it is.” (131–132). There is surely a profound
ambiguity in this idea of a world that first comes out of nothing as configured,
then falls back into nothingness again, before finally emerging for the last time
as created.
However, two points stand out as defining this objectively ambiguous and
complex conception. (1) creatio ex nihilo is not completely rejected, but only
anticipated, as it can be found at the first stage of Rosenzweig’s system. Though
not a fully-fledged creatio, a movement ex nihilo can still be recognized in the
Pre-World—precisely, in the double emergence from nothing of the various
ways of ‘yes’ and ‘no.’192 (2) The ‘nothingness’ the configured world is supposed
to come back into is not a real one. Rather, it is what can be called a ‘compar-
ative nothing:’ a kind of nothing that is such, only if compared to something
else: “Compared to this world created in the end—but, really, only compared to
191 What emerges here is a difference between two ways of conceiving creatural other-
ness. On the one hand, equal or symmetrical otherness between God and world—and
human being, for that matter—is the structural foundation of Rosenzweig’s picture of
reality. On the other hand, unequal or asymmetrical otherness is the notion that can
be coined to describe the God-world relationship on the basis of creatio ex nihilo. The
Magen David, as visual representation of Rosenzweig’s conception, is composed of two
equilateral triangles: the first triangle connects the three elements of God, world, and
human being; the second triangle connecting the three paths of creation, revelation,
and redemption. The equilaterality of the triangles is a way of visually representing
the equality of elements and paths.
192 The topic of creatio ex nihilo in Rosenzweig’s thought is dealt with in Samuelson (1988)
and Bertolino (2000, 2005, and especially 2006). Both authors develop their reflections
with regard to the pre-world—thus confirming the reading suggested here.
214 Beyond Philosophy: The ‘New Thinking’ as Jewish
context of the world, but differently from a bolt, it has a permanent influence on
the context it happens in.
From this point of view, love and revelation are both fully-fledged events.
Both happen suddenly, have no determined causes they could be led back to, and
are thus not rationally graspable. Moreover, another essential feature of events is
their capability of radically and permanently changing the context they happen
in and—more importantly in this case—the human being whom they happen to.
This is particularly true for the two evental dimensions at issue here: revelation
and love. It is not by means of a rational argumentation that faith in God can be
acquired. Likewise, falling in love with someone is not a logical conclusion that
can be obtained through a rational process starting from well-founded premises.
On the contrary, causes or logical premises can be found, at most, after the event,
that is, as a posteriori justification of something already given—or, in this case,
self-given.
Rosenzweig’s view on the relationship between God and human being
revolves around three notions composing a conceptual triad: revelation, event,
and love. It is the second element, the event, that acts as a pivot for the whole
triad, as it represents that common ontological mode that provides a founda-
tion for the analogy between the first and third element. This particular way of
relating concepts, moreover, testifies to Rosenzweig’s particular approach to the
problem. While the idea of love as a metaphorical representation of revelation is
already an established one, and several interpreters in the course of history have
repeatedly associated the two dimensions in a bond of affinity,194 the fact that
their connection may be—and actually is—rooted in a third notion—that is that
of event—constitutes the original contribution of Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking’ to
the topic of the divine-human relation.
To conclude, the ‘Jewishness’ of Rosenzweig’s account of revelation emerges
clearly in what can be considered its ‘hybrid character.’ Rosenzweig’s view is the
result of combining what he develops in his ‘new thinking’ with what is derived
from his interpretation of the Jewish source of Shir ha-Shirim. More precisely,
the close link between ‘love’ and ‘revelation,’ as it emerges from the reading of the
biblical text, is grafted onto and embedded within the conception of ‘event’ that
Rosenzweig elaborates in his own thought.
194 A panorama of the different interpretations of Shir ha-Shirim and the notion of love
it presents is offered in Der Stern der Erlösung (GS 2: 221 ff.). See also Rühle (2004)
and Moyn (2005) on the same topic.
Redemption: Oriented Praxis – Psalm 115 and Tiqqun 217
195 “This is the only one of all the psalms that begins and ends with a powerfully
underscored ‘we’ ” (GS 2: 280).
196 “The highest heavens belong to the Lord, but the earth he has given to mankind” (Ps
115: 16).
197 “It is not the dead who praise the Lord, […]; but we” (Ps 115: 17–18).
218 Beyond Philosophy: The ‘New Thinking’ as Jewish
denied at the same time. Or as Rosenzweig says: it is asserted “in the only admis-
sible form: by explicitly denying it” (ibid.). This apparent contradiction between
assertion and denial is solved precisely by projecting it onto a temporal dimen-
sion: what is asserted in relation to the future is at the same time denied in the
‘not-yet’ of the present.
A sort of progression is then described in the central verses of the psalm.
‘Israel,’ ‘the house of Aaron,’ and ‘those who fear the Eternal’ (see Ps 115: 9–11)
represent for Rosenzweig the three phases of a gradual growth, from a partial
‘we,’ to a complete ‘we all,’ passing through a ‘you.’198 In Rosenzweig’s view, it
is clear that this development is exactly what redemption consists in. ‘Israel’ is
for him the initial and still partial community of Jewish believers. ‘The house of
Aaron’ is that same community considered in its confrontation with the ‘you’ of
the outer world, on “the way leading through the world and time of the ‘you’ ”
(GS 2: 281). Finally, the phrase ‘those who fear the eternal’ hints at an extended
community of the future, a community that will be no longer only Jewish, but
will have grown to include the whole of humankind: it will be “the old messianic
community of humankind, of the ‘we all’ ” (ibid.).
Now, the only aspect that psalm 115 does not cover is the specific way through
which this growth can be achieved. As is well known, for Rosenzweig it depends
on human beings acting and loving their neighbors in the context of the world,
but no word in the text of the psalm lends itself to be interpreted as a call to
neighborly love. According to the biblical text, redemption emerges as the final
stage of a process, but what is left unsaid is that redemption is also a goal to work
towards, and that the kind of work it requires is the concrete exercise of neigh-
borly love. These aspects of redemption, then, must be borne out by other Jewish
sources, which Rosenzweig pinpoints in the mystical tradition and, more pre-
cisely, in the doctrine of Tiqqun. In the context of this doctrine, redemption takes
on the form of a continuous work of fulfillment of the commandments, with the
ultimate aim of unifying God.
It is precisely the notion of ‘unification’ that makes evident a correlation
between Rosenzweig’s view and its corresponding Jewish source. In Der Stern
der Erlösung one reads: “Human being and world fade out in redemption, but
God completes himself. It is only in redemption that God becomes […] the One
and the All” (266). But a conception of redemption as unification of God is also
what Rosenzweig draws from his reading of the Tiqqun, which he reconstructs as
198 It could even show some similarities with a ‘dialectical triad,’ if only this term were
not loaded with Hegelian overtones.
Redemption: Oriented Praxis – Psalm 115 and Tiqqun 219
a process aimed at a final restoration and fostered by human praxis. In his own
words: “the Jewish human being fulfills the endless customs and precepts ‘for the
unification of the holy God and his Shekhina.’199 […]. God’s glory is scattered
in countless sparks in the whole world, [the Jewish human being] will gather
that glory from scattering and one day will bring it home to God, who has been
deprived of it. Each of his [of the Jewish human being] deeds, each fulfillment of
a law carries out a piece of this unification” (456).
In the case of redemption too, then, as already previously observed with regard
to creation and revelation, Rosenzweig’s exegesis of Jewish sources combines
with the development of his own thought. The different facets that together give
shape to his understanding of redemption find correspondence in the concepts
that emerge from his interpretation of biblical texts and mystical doctrines.
Anticipation of the future, a communitary dimension, and the achievement of
a form of eternal life can be detected among the verses of psalm 115. The idea
of a concrete work for redemption by means of human praxis in the world—in
a word, ‘oriented praxis’—is instead the outcome of Rosenzweig’s reading of the
Lurian theory of Tiqqun.
199 ‘Shekhina ( )’ is the divine presence in the world. The unification of God, in this
context, means precisely a unification of different dimensions that are all divine in
nature.
Final Remarks
The image of a third way between two opposite positions has served so far as a
key to the reading of Rosenzweig’s ‘new thinking.’ At the end of this work, the
same interpretative scheme allows some final remarks to be made about the gen-
eral structure and meaning of Rosenzweig’s thought. In particular, two topics
will be addressed. (1) A first set of remarks deals with the notions of ‘yes’ and ‘no’
as ontological modes at the very basis of Rosenzweig’s conception of reality. It is
by conceiving of reality as a compound of ‘yes and no’ that Rosenzweig delineates
his ‘new thinking’ as a third way between other views that focus only on one of
the two components. (2) The second set of remarks addresses the Jewishness of
the ‘new thinking’. The aim is to analyze the ‘new thinking’ in regard to the ques-
tion of ‘Jewish philosophy,’ which is here considered a hybrid form—again, a
third way—between philosophy and Jewish thought.
the fact of having the same way of being. This allows us to speak of two triads of
dimensions, rather than simply of six dimensions, with each triad kept together
by a common ontological character as a connecting factor.
Two triads of dimensions correspond to two opposite ways of being—to the
‘yes’ and the ‘no,’ which from this point on are considered in their different onto-
logical modes. Now, giving an account of this difference is certainly no easy
task. Rosenzweig has to employ a highly abstract terminology combined with
a set of visual metaphors in order to make his explanation of this difference as
clear as possible. The ‘yes’ is defined in terms of “affirmation of the not-nothing”
(GS 2: 26). As such it posits something indeterminate and infinite: it includes,
in other words, everything that is not nothing, anything that has no other fea-
ture than that of ‘not being nothing.’ On the other hand, the ‘no,’ as “negation of
nothing” (ibid.), is a limited, determinate, and finite act; it is “solely and exclusively
act” (ibid.). Without any kind of ontological substantiality, the ‘no’ exhausts itself
completely in performing an act of negation.
Metaphorically speaking, the “affirmation of the not-nothing” results in a
background, a field, an area that stretches around nothingness—as if the ‘yes’
were the neighbor (Anwohner) of nothingness. The ‘yes’ is a placid essence that
“flows calmly (entquillt) out of nothingness” (ibid.)—says Rosenzweig. The
verb he uses in this sentence to refer to the emergence of the ‘yes’ is entquellen,
alluding to a movement so calm and slow that it borders on stability and stasis.
What is here described, then, is a calm flowing stream that leads to a “still sea”
(30)—or, metaphors aside, the way of ‘yes’ is the establishment of an ontological
dimension conceived of in terms of “unmoved, infinite being” (ibid.). In conclu-
sion, both logical and metaphorical descriptions converge on presenting the ‘yes’
as a dimension of reality that, provided with ontological substantiality, embodies
a fundamentally static principle.
While it is true that the ‘yes,’ on account of the very fact that it comes out
of nothing, constitutes an opposition to nothingness, it is nonetheless arguable
that the particular kind of opposition it offers can be said to be an ‘indirect’ one.
The term is particularly fitting, because the ‘yes’ does not clash frontally with
the nothingness it comes from, but opposes it indirectly, solely by virtue of its
ontological substantiality. As “affirmation of the not-nothing,” neighbor of noth-
ingness, alter ego of nothingness, the ‘yes’ challenges the nothingness by simply
being itself—indeed, by simply being. In order to affirm what is not-nothing, in
other words, the ‘yes’ does not need to collide with nothingness, but constitutes
an ontological alternative to it by simply staying at its side. Simply showing that
there is something else beyond the insubstantiality of nothingness is enough to
produce a detachment from it.
A Third Way between Idealism and Irrationalism 223
On the other hand, all metaphors used to describe the ‘no’ are carefully chosen
to express a meaning that is at odds with that of ‘yes.’ While the ‘yes’ can be visu-
ally represented by a vast surface, the ‘no’ is more similar to a dimensionless
point. While the ‘yes’ is a neighbor that quietly coexists next to nothingness, the
‘no’ “tears itself away from nothingness (entrinnt dem Nichts) […], breaks free
from (entbricht) the prison of nothingness [and] is nothing more that the event of
this liberation” (26, my emphasis). Differently from the ‘yes,’ the ‘no’ is not a being,
but an event. Its own ontological mode is not that of ‘a stable staying,’ but rather
that of ‘a fleeting giving itself.’ The emergence of the ‘no,’ in other terms, is an
instantaneous break, which, as a break, negates the context it distances itself from
and, as instantaneous, is unable to acquire any sort of ontological substantiality.
The images Rosenzweig avails himself of to convey the sense of ‘no’ aim at
conjuring up its essentially active nature, as well as its conflictual relationship
with nothingness. Comparing the ‘no’ to a “gushing fountain (Springquell)” (27)
or to an “inexhaustible source (unerschöpfliche Quelle)” (32) lays stress on the
dynamic character of something constantly in motion. Incidentally, this becomes
evident when Rosenzweig writes that “movement can come only from the ‘no’ ”
(30). As to the idea of conflict, then, the ‘no’ is presented as fighting against noth-
ingness in order to break free from its hold. The verbs used—entrinnen (to tear
oneself away) and entbrechen (to break free)—hint at a sudden, even violent,
movement, but the image of a battle is even more vividly rendered through such
expressions as “body to body (Leib an Leib)” (31), “opponent (Gegner)” (ibid.),
and “wrestling match (Ringkampf)” (ibid.).200
When all this is considered, it is safe to say that the ‘no’ opposes nothingness
directly, as much as the ‘yes’ does it indirectly. A geometrical equivalence may be
enlightening here: while nothingness and ‘yes’ can be compared to two neigh-
boring planes, the ‘no’ is more properly represented as a point. As naïve as it may
seem, this equivalence has some explanatory appeal. In Rosenzweig’s view, the
‘no’ removes itself from nothingness, in the same way as a point is able to ideally
detach itself from a plane. Although it is just a single point, the lack of it is none-
theless enough to make the plane incomplete, to prevent the plane from being
itself, and in a sense, to negate its being a plane—because it is clear that a plane,
without even one of its points, is no longer a plane. The ‘no,’ that is the ‘negation
200 It is true that Rosenzweig himself says that “the image of two wrestlers is misleading”
(GS 2: 31), but in saying that he is referring only to the duality the metaphor conjures
up. The conflictual meaning it suggests, on the other hand, is still apt for to representing
Rosenzweig’s view.
224 Final Remarks
201 This can be easily seen by considering, for example, the etymology of such cognate
words as ‘concept’ or ‘definition.’ ‘Concept’ stems from the Latin verb concipio, com-
posed of cum, which means ‘with,’ ‘together’ and capio, meaning ‘I contain or hold.’
A concept results from a process of gathering and holding—that is putting and keeping
within boundaries—different aspects of reality. Likewise ‘definition’ contains the Latin
word ‘finis,’ which means ‘boundary’ or ‘limit.’
A Third Way between Idealism and Irrationalism 225
then, what qualifies for determination is only that kind of reality that is able to
receive and bear those conceptual boundaries the very notion of ‘determination’
rests on. Determinable, and determined, can only be that kind of reality which,
by virtue of its ontological constitution, is able to take on the same conceptual
structure as that governing the realm of rationality.
An essential bond between rationality and determination can be found wher-
ever rationality expresses itself through acts of determination (as a process) and
through the establishment of relationships between determinations (as results of
that process). More precisely, rationality’s typical mode of proceeding consists in
(1) positing conceptual boundaries in order to mark limited portions of reality
and (2) establishing relationships between those portions. By means of determi-
nation, an organized structure is produced in the realm of rationality, in order to
be subsequently applied to reality. Such an application, however, succeeds only
in those sectors of reality, where the structure of rationality finds a counterpart
to correspond with. Two structures are here at issue, then: one structure made of
rational determinations, the other made of real determinations. The possibility
of a rational approach to reality depends on whether or not the two structures
agree with each other.
In fact, an agreement is not always reachable. While a structure based on
rational determinations is always possible, the formation of real determinations
and their arrangement into an organized structure depend on the ontological
quality of the part of reality these operations take place in. When applied to
Rosenzweig’s ontological conception, this last consideration allows of the fol-
lowing scheme: the ‘yes,’ with its ontological stability and substantiality, provides
a secure ground for determination, and thus also for the application of ratio-
nality; while the ‘no,’ with its fleeting and dynamic nature, does not tolerate the
rigidity of the conceptual boundaries determination is based on. A structure of
real determinations cannot come to be in the field of ‘no,’ so that this has nothing
to offer for rational determinations to agree with. An agreement is unfeasible in
this case, as one of its supposed poles cannot even be formed.202
Rationality applies to reality through the mediation of determination. But
when a part of reality does not provide suitable ontological conditions for
202 Determinability and rationality of the ‘yes’ depend on its static nature, while
indeterminability and irrationality of the ‘no’ come from its dynamic character. In
this view, an essential connection is maintained between stasis and rationality, on one
hand, as well as between motion and irrationality, on the other hand. Kierkegaard’s
thought is clearly perceivable at the basis of this view.
226 Final Remarks
determination to take place, that part cannot establish any connection with
rationality. The ‘no’ is thus irrational because it is indeterminable; and it is inde-
terminable because of its ontological character as a fleeting event. The ‘yes’ is
rational because it is determinable; and it is determinable because of its onto-
logical character as a stable essence. Now the point is that the three determin-
able and rational ‘yes’-es Rosenzweig takes into account correspond to the three
conceptions of God, world, and human being that can be found in an idealistic
view. On the other hand, the three indeterminable and irrational ‘no’-es closely
resemble what can be said about God, world, and human being from an irra-
tional point of view.
Taking Hegel as the leading exponent of idealism, his conception of a system-
atically organized totality of being leads him to recognize only the rational part
in each sector of reality. So God, as absolute spirit, represents the highest level of
determination and rationality; the world is reduced to its rational structure only;
and the human being, as part of the system, is considered only in those aspects
of hers that lend themselves to be systematized, that is rationally determined. The
Hegelian approach, in other words, sees in each element of reality only its deter-
minable, rational part, while at the same time neglecting the indeterminable, irra-
tional—but equally essential—dimension. Translated into Rosenzweigian terms,
this means that Hegel sees in God only his physis; in the world only its logos; and
in the human being only her particularity. What emerges, finally, is a picture of
reality made up only of Rosenzweigian ‘yes’-es.
Analogous considerations show how an opposite one-sidedness can be found
in the field of irrationalism. In Nietzsche’s view—which is here assumed as a
model for irrationalism in general—the world is a chaotic dimension character-
ized by an overwhelming abundance of power, while the human being is essen-
tially reduced to her will, that is to a blind, ceaselessly striving, irrational force.
As to God, it is certainly true for Nietzsche that he is dead. But this does not
mean that God is not considered at all in Nietzscheanism. Actually, God’s death
is the result of a human action, performed in acknowledgment of God as infi-
nite freedom.203 Now, by translating Nietzsche’s view into Rosenzweig’s termi-
nology, a conception emerges in which God is only freedom; the world is only its
dynamic plenitude; and the human being consists only in her will. It is a concep-
tion, in other words, that sees reality as made up only of ‘no’-es.
204 Rosenzweig overcomes the alternative between an idealist ‘yes’ or an irrational ‘no’ by
advancing the idea of a synthesis of ‘yes and no.’ This is an inclusive conception based
on the value of the “little word and (das Wörtchen Und)” (GS 3: 158), which plays a
fundamental theoretical role in the entire development of Rosenzweig’s thought.
205 The debate about a shared definition of ‘Jewish philosophy’ is far from being closed,
as it still includes a wide range of opposing, irreconcilable positions. But however dif-
ferent these stances may be, most of them seem to agree at least on a minimal definition
228 Final Remarks
206 Later on, the Stranger adds: “we have shown that the nature of the other—is” (Soph.,
258e), that is: otherness is always included in the sphere of being.
207 Moreover, it is needless to say that Lévinas is an author who is considerably influenced
by Rosenzweig. Indeed, he often explicitly refers to Rosenzweig in the course of his
own philosophical reflections.
230 Final Remarks
by the fact that the ‘other’ is not really ‘another,’ but rather “in the deepest depth”
(ibid.) just the ‘same.’ In other words, the relationship would be diminished by
the fact that its basic ‘otherness’ is not sufficiently radical.
The quote by Emmanuel Lévinas shows that the kind of radical otherness that
is needed for an authentic relationship cannot be derived from philosophical
thought, rather it can only be sought in the Jewish tradition, which is able to pro-
vide a precedent, and thus a model, for it. “To affirm […] creation is to contest the
prior community of all things within eternity, from which philosophical thought,
guided by ontology, makes things arise as from a common matrix. The absolute
gap of separation, which transcendence implies, could not be better expressed
than by the term ‘creation’ ” (Lévinas 1961: 326). Creation implies transcendence,
which is another way of saying radical otherness. It contests the “community of
all things” and rejects the possibility of a “common matrix.” But this means that
an essential tenet of philosophy—the sameness of being—is contested and rejected
by an equally essential principle of Jewish thought—the radical otherness between
creator and creature.
not depend on anything else” (36). The emergence of an element without any dis-
cernible cause behind it, its spontaneous ‘giving itself ’ that is not pre-determined
by anything, is “what the fate or the Tyche (Τύχη) wants” (ibid.). Thus the main
feature of the notion of ‘event’ is portrayed: causelessness.
After defining the ‘event’ with reference to Tyche (Τύχη), Diano goes on to
distinguish it from a mere ‘happening.’208 Something that simply happens, that
is a ‘happening,’ is defined by the Latin formula: quicquid èvenit (anything that
happens), while a fully-fledged ‘event’ is rather id quod cuique èvenit (something
that happens to someone) (see 69). While a ‘happening’ may be something inde-
pendent and completely impersonal, an ‘event,’ in order to be such, must show
a bipolar structure, in which one of the two poles has a personal nature. More
precisely, a simple ‘happening’ is adequately described by the impersonal form
‘giving itself,’ but according to Diano, an ‘event’ also has to be for someone. The
movement of ‘giving itself ’ characterizes both ‘happening’ and ‘event’. For the
event, however, it also has to be perceived by the personal pole of a recipient
subject.
Throughout the history of philosophy, this conception of ‘event’ has never
essentially changed and can be found substantially unaltered in one of the philo-
sophical accounts closer in time to Rosenzweig’s thought, to wit, the Heideggerian
view. Especially in his work Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis) (1936–38),
Heidegger develops his idea of ‘being’ (Sein) as ‘event’ (Ereignis), as being in an
essential relationship with a ‘being there’ (Dasein) that receives it. Without going
into the details of Heidegger’s complicated theory, what emerges even at a super-
ficial glance is a structure, in which an impersonal dimension—that is the ‘being’
(das Sein)—‘gives itself ’ in an evental way, while it is received at the same time by
a personal pole—that is the ‘being there’ (das Dasein). It is a structure, in other
words, that closely corresponds to the one described by Diano.
The encounter between an impersonal, self-giving dimension and a personal
receiving pole is the most advanced conception one can achieve through phil-
osophical reasoning—it is the most philosophy has to offer, so to speak. And
this is exactly the reason why philosophical sources cannot be regarded as a
basis for Rosenzweig’s view, which firmly rejects any trace of impersonality and
introduces the idea of a personal-personal polarity, instead of the impersonal-
personal polarity of philosophy. Rosenzweig thinks of ‘event’ in terms of ‘love,’
which develops into two main forms: the self-giving of divine love and its
208 In the original Italian text, the difference is between ‘accadimento’ and ‘evento,’ which
are translated here respectively by ‘happening’ and ‘event.’
232 Final Remarks
acceptance, as human love, on the part of the human being.209 It is the notion of
‘love,’ then, that makes Rosenzweig’s view incompatible with the philosophical
approach. Love requires that both elements it involves have a personal nature, as
it would not make any sense to attribute love to an impersonal dimension.
In order to thoroughly account for love, it is necessary to reject impersonality
altogether. And here is where the Jewish heritage comes in. The centrality of love,
and the need to give it fair consideration, may be not completely alien to the
philosophical tradition,210 but conceiving of revelation, event, and love as forming
a single conceptual triad is possible only by relying on Jewish sources, rather
than on philosophical ones. In particular, the biblical source of Shir ha-Shirim,
as a fundamental reference point, is crucial for Rosenzweig’s account. And it is
precisely by virtue of this influence that the Rosenzweigian view can be said to
be ‘Jewish.’ Not because only Jewish thought deals with the notions of ‘event’ or
‘love,’ but because only through Jewish sources can revelation take on the features
of an event whose occurrence is modelled on love dynamics.
209 As two sides of the same flux, divine love is a giving act, while human love has receiving
nature.
210 To provide but two examples, one might consider the role of Eros in Plato’s Symposium
or the connections Aristotle establishes between God, love, and the notion of ‘unmoved
mover’ in his Metaphysics.
A Third Way between Philosophy and Jewish Thought 233
is always already included in the first step, the origin, so that the gap between
them turns out to have been always only an apparent one. Redemption, on the
other hand, cannot be reached through theoretical reasoning, but only through
a concrete work performed in the world. As a goal, it is given, but it is not yet
accomplished. Such accomplishment requires time, responsibility, and practical
acts aiming at it.
If Rosenzweig’s idea of praxis oriented toward the promised goal of redemp-
tion differs radically from the purely theoretical approach of the ‘from Ionia to
Jena’-philosophy, that is of idealism, an equally radical difference can also be
observed at the other end of the spectrum, between the position of the ‘new
thinking’ and that of the ‘point of view’-philosophy, that is of irrationalism. In
this context, the question in dispute concerns the relationship between freedom
and redemption. From an irrational perspective, the lack of a goal is seen as the
very condition for human praxis to be authentically free, so that in this view
the goal of redemption represents in itself a limitation to freedom. The problem
is that redemption is promised in revelation, and if the achievement of a goal is
promised, that is assured and certain, the risk is that such certainty makes human
freedom dwindle to irrelevance.
The doubt is legitimate, yet from a Rosenzweigian perspective one might
argue that it is rather the lack of a goal to aim at which implies a diminishment of
freedom. This counterargument is based on two considerations. (1) That redemp-
tion is promised represents a certainty concerning the fact that the redeemed
world is going to come, but the exact moment of its coming is left unknown. In
other words, one knows that redemption will be reached, but not exactly when.
This means that some leeway is nonetheless left, even though redemption has the
certain character of a promise. (2) Being reachable only through the concrete
exercise of human praxis, the goal of redemption, far from diminishing freedom,
is rather its exaltation. It is a call to action and a demand for human responsi-
bility toward what takes shape as real ‘work’ for redemption. This second consid-
eration deserves to be examined more thoroughly.
‘Responsibility’ is the central notion here. It is precisely what opposes the
reassuring certainty of logical necessity—which relieves from any respon-
sibility—while at the same time it allows freedom to acquire its full value, to
become authentic, and to avoid turning into arbitrariness, that is into a pointless
movement without purpose. In the context of human action, freedom is always
exercised between different options—for example, freedom of doing good or
evil; of observing or breaking precepts. In other words, the freedom of human
action is always freedom of choice between alternatives. But—and here is the
point—these alternatives can be evaluated only in relation to a goal that serves
A Third Way between Philosophy and Jewish Thought 235
as a criterion for them. The lack of a goal, then, implies the lack of a criterion.
And this would result in a condition where every choice has the same value as
any other; in a state of indifference, that is, which is arguably the contrary of
freedom.211
Without a goal to reach, and thus without a criterion of choice, every action
is discharged from any form of responsibility, since its effects, if any, turn out
to be irrelevant. They can neither be seen as progress nor as regression; neither
as a step toward nor as a move away from an aim, for the simple reason that no
aim is given. The loss of responsibility, which may seem to be an enhancement
of freedom, is actually the cause of its diminishment because freedom without
responsibility is deprived of its seriousness and declines into a sort of arbitrary
play with no consequences. As Massimo Cacciari summarizes: “[Redemption]
does not abolish the dimension of ‘the possible,’ does not put human conscious-
ness at ease, in a sort of ‘already happened’ apocalypse, but is a call to responsi-
bility toward the ‘work’ for messianic restoration. Before this moment, there is
no authentic possibility, but only a ‘wandering in vain’ ” (1985: 38).212
211 One of the finest thinkers to dedicate himself to the study of the notion of freedom
in its ontological implications is Luigi Pareyson. In his posthumous work Ontologia
della libertà (Ontology of Freedom) (1995), he describes freedom as follows: “It has
two main features: the first one is unpredictability; the second, irreversibility” (30, my
emphasis). An act of freedom is unpredictable a parte ante and irreversible a parte post.
It is this second dimension, however, that provides a foundation for responsibility.
Acknowledging the irreversible effects of any act of freedom, in other words, requires
taking responsibility for it.
212 At this juncture, it is probably not inopportune to recall some famous metaphors from
the history of philosophy: Kant’s dove and Wittgenstein’s ice-walker.
In the Kritik der reinen Vernunft (1781–1787), Kant writes: “The light dove, in free
flight cutting through the air the resistance of which it feels, could get the idea that it
could do even better in airless space” (51). But what the dove does not seem to realize,
in Kant’s example, is that air resistance is indispensable to flight.
Wittgenstein has something similar in mind when he writes: “We have got on to
slippery ice where there is no friction and so in a certain sense the conditions are ideal,
but also, just because of that, we are unable to walk” (1953: § 107, 341).
In both metaphors, something that appears to be an obstacle at first glance turns
out to be the very condition of what it was supposed to hinder. Air is not an obstacle
to the dove. Rather, air is what makes flight possible. Likewise, a lack of friction does
not make walking easier, since it is only thanks to friction that walking is at all possible.
Mutatis mutandis, the fact that human praxis has to be aimed at the goal of
redemption, in Rosenzweig’s view, is not to be seen as an obstacle to freedom. On the
236 Final Remarks
Given its difference from both main philosophical positions, it is clear that
philosophy cannot provide the sources for Rosenzweig’s understanding of
praxis. The aspects and nuances that make it irreducible to the philosophical
conceptions are rather extracted from Jewish sources, namely from Psalm 115,
and above all from the cabbalistic idea of Tiqqun. The notion of communality
and the fact that human praxis can lead toward redemption only to the extent
that it assumes a collective nature are derived from the psalm. The idea of a goal
that has to be reached gradually in the course of time; the understanding of that
goal in terms of unity in the making;213 and a conception that sees every step
toward that unity as a result of human action in the world—these motives all
come from the cabbalistic doctrine of Tiqqun.
‘Otherness,’ ‘event,’ and ‘praxis’ are the key notions on which Rosenzweig’s
‘new thinking’ is based. All of them are represented, to a certain extent, in the
philosophical tradition, but in each of them a specific element or aspect stands
out that marks a radical difference between Rosenzweigian and philosophical
conceptions. An extra-philosophical component is thus at work in Rosenzweig’s
thought, since what distinguishes its concepts from those elaborated in the field
of philosophy is precisely their derivation from the extra-philosophical tradition
of Jewish thought. Hence, (1) ‘otherness’ is certainly dealt with in philosophy,
but only through the contribution of Bereshit 1 can it be thought of as radical.
(2) There is no doubt that philosophy knows the notion of ‘event,’ but only on
the basis of Shir ha-Shirim can ‘event’ and ‘love’ be conceived of as coessential.
Finally, (3) ‘praxis’ has always been a philosophical subject matter, but it is the
cabbalistic conception of Tiqqun that serves as a reference point for molding the
Rosenzweigian view, thus giving it a ‘Jewish twist.’
Conclusion
While the first level of reality—precisely, the ontological structure of the three
Urphänomene—can be seen as a way of overcoming philosophy while still
maintaining philosophical categories, the second level of reality, with its rela-
tional paths, marks the introduction of categories of Jewish origin. The ‘yes and
no’ that characterizes the Urphänomene is certainly a step out of philosophical
forms of one-sidedness, but the advance in this case consists basically in com-
bining philosophical concepts that used to be thought of as mutually exclusive.
contrary, it is only in relation to a goal to reach, that freedom can imply responsibility
and thus attain its fullest value.
213 “The unity is […] only becoming unity; it exists only in becoming” (GS 2: 456).
Conclusion 237
Hegel
[W]Werke in 20 Bänden. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp, 1970 ff.
Band 3:Phänomenologie des Geistes.
Band 5:Wissenschaft der Logik I.
Band 6:Wissenschaft der Logik II.
Band 7:Grundlinien der Philosophie des Rechts.
Band 8:Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften I.
Band 9:Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften II.
Band 10:Enzyklopädie der philosophischen Wissenschaften III.
Band 12:Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Geschichte.
Band 16:Vorlesungen über die Philosophie der Religion I.
Band 18:Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie I.
Band 19:Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie II.
Band 20:Vorlesungen über die Geschichte der Philosophie III.
[VR]Vorlesungen über Rechtsphilosophie. 1818–1831. Stuttgart: Frommann-
Holzboog, 1973 ff.
Nietzsche
[KGA]Werke. Kritische Gesamtausgabe. Berlin-New York: de Gruyter, 1967 ff.
Band 3.2:Über Wahrheit und Lüge im aussermoralischen Sinne.
Band 3.3:Nachgelassene Fragmente Herbst 1869–Herbst 1872.
Band 4.2:Menschliches, Allzumenschliches I.
Band 4.3:Menschliches, Allzumenschliches II.
Band 5.1:Morgenröthe/Nachgelassene Fragmente Anfang 1880-Frühjahr 1881.
Band 5.2:Idyllen aus Messina/Die fröhliche Wissenschaft/Nachgelassene
Fragmente Frühjahr 1881-Sommer 1882.
Band 6.1:Also sprach Zarathustra.
Band 6.2:Jenseits von Gut und Böse/Zur Genealogie der Moral.
Band 6.3:Götzen-Dämmerung/Der Antichrist.
Band 7.1:Nachgelassene Fragmente Juli 1882-Winter 1883–1884.
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