Friday, 17 January 2020

Armin Mohler, “Before History: Some Unsystematic Remarks” (1975)


My translation, rather provisional, of Armin Mohler’s “Devant l’histoire: quelques remarques non-systématiques,” Nouvelle École 27–28 (1975). These few brief theses bear the marks of Mohler’s “nominalism,” his term for his rejection of the “eternally valid” in politics, and of his anti-systematic thought. If you have any critical comments on this translation in particular (but any of my efforts), please do say. These are in part an exercise for me; I'm eager to improve.

The French original can be found at


And a PDF of this translation at


Regarding “nominalism” from Nietzsche to Mohler to Alain de Benoist:




Of the man who attaches a special importance to history, we wish to say that he feels ill at ease in the present and that he seeks to return in his dreams to the epochs he prefers, and, for this reason, that he is “conservative.” To describe this attitude, which today begins to look like an epidemic, the term “nostalgia” has been coined. Nostalgia is a phenomenon with multiple aspects and in light of these it’s not easy to cast judgment. But it seems not to depend on fundamental intellectual attitudes. There are nostalgic conservatives and conservatives who are not, while numberless non-conservatives experience intense nostalgia. Anyhow, nostalgia is not a constitutive element of conservatism; and that he is or isn’t nostalgic doesn’t permit one to say that someone is or isn’t conservative.


1. History is Nearby


Most misunderstandings on the subject of history stem from the fact that we consider it distant in time. Certainly history isn’t immediately perceptible. But it bears no less on the present. We might conceive our relationship with it according to the model of holography, which was introduced in 1948 by Dennis Gabor. This is essentially a new sort of “photography,” capable of rendering both the contours and the reverse of an object, though our eye can only take its own perspective. The man without historical sense is like one who sees himself in a mirror: he sees himself as if rendered on a surface, with the distortions and omissions this entails. To have historical sense means not to content oneself with only this dimension. And—to stay with the image we’ve taken as an example—to survey history means to hold a second mirror behind one’s head, or a whole system of mirrors, in order to see oneself from all angles—and thus to achieve a distance with respect to oneself.


2. History is not a Classroom


The profit one derives from history is generally of the moral order. We laud the examples we might hope to equal. We claim that it helps us to avoid the errors of others. And so on. Historians have spared no jibe when it comes to these purported directly educative effects of history. Successors of great men are generally few in number; and errors are rehearsed tiresomely. If history does have an educative effect, it manifests itself less directly, to say the least.


3. History Permits Verifiable Observation


History has a disciplinary power because its function is the same as that of experimentation in the domain of natural sciences: history offers the only possibility to effect verifiable observation at the human level, just as experimentation offers it at the level of nature. This observation is easier to make since philosophy demoted itself to a modest role as the secretary at interdisciplinary meetings. Logic certainly has its inductions, but only in the abstract. What we try to distinguish in the human domain, such as “nature,” “soul” (Seele) and “spirit” (Geist), are so intimately entangled that logic is at pains to grasp it. What might I really verifiably say about a thing, a person, a human event? I might say what it is, what it will become with time and how it changes meanwhile. Over details there may be differences of opinion: in broad terms, a consensus is possible.


4. Verifiability Isn’t Everything


Whoever comments on the severe limits of verifiable observation generally exposes himself to the suspicion of wanting to devalue all observation that advances. But it would be senseless to act in this way: that would be to say that any attempt to return to the roots, any project grand in scope should be reduced accordingly, and that the creative force in man should be left to wither away. In the sphere of human action, history has a particular function: “verifiability” signifies nothing else besides. And to call that function “compensatory” would be to minimise it: for the experience of history can have two contrary and radically opposite effects.


5. Through History We Experience the Complex


It would still be one of those inadmissible simplifications, as with the issue of nostalgia, to say that the “conservative” experiences history as an absurdity. Certain authors have used the metaphor of “the in-significant” (“l’in-signifiant”) to denote that thing that appears effectively across every historical event: to wit, the fact of experience that history always represents an excess with respect to the interpretative schemata we try to attribute to it in thought. The fundamental experience according to which “the world is not divisible,” that is, that human thought and reality can never coincide, attains in the historical dimension an intensification which one might compare to a “stereo effect.” History is a school of humility: all monocausal attempts at explication (or even bi- and tricausal) break against it, and we are made aware of the complex character of all reality. This needn’t necessarily disturb us, nor even discourage us—on the contrary: in a manner difficult to define (and inexplicable in rational terms), this can in fact urge us onto a deeper appreciation. By realising quite how complex the world is, we live a kind of second birth.


6. Through History We Experience Form.


“To give a meaning to that which has no meaning” is equally a formula we ought to mistrust. It belies a somewhat thin psychology. It’s true that the world doesn’t make sense and that, as man cannot live without meaning, okay, he constructs one. But the relationship that we must have with history is even more essential. This “second birth” consists not only in the experience of the world’s complexity—it resides as much in our impulse to set against the complex (Benn or Montherlant would say “against chaos”) a form, a configuration. What moves us profoundly in history is that man always seeks, precisely on the grounds of this experience of a complex reality, and even in the most desperate situations, still to leave a trace behind him. Even if it’s only a matter of a scratch on so compact a reality—as Malraux said somewhere, with that brilliant nonchalance he made his own.


7.


The man of Aufklärung will say: “It isn’t much.” Our response can only be: “But it is.”

2 comments:

  1. Thanks. I translated it to Spanish: https://nacionalismuasturianu.blogspot.com/2020/03/antes-de-la-historia-algunas-notas.html, with your kind permission.

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