Unity Through Diversity:
Humanity's Higher Ground NHI Chairman Claes Ryn
Delivers
‘Distinguished Foreign Scholar’ Lecture Series at Beijing University
Can conflict between China and the West be
avoided? Claes
Ryn, Chairman of the National Humanities Institute, acts on the
assumption
that it can be avoided, but a great deal needs to happen to avert
growing
tension.
Ryn has delivered a series of lectures on ethics,
culture, and politics
(including constitutionalism) at China’s leading institution of higher
learning, Beijing University. The lectures will be published in the
university’s
book series "Distinguished Foreign Scholars." The comprehensive title
of
Ryn's lectures is "Unity Through Diversity: Humanity's Higher
Ground."
In the lectures, delivered May 15, 17, and 19, 2000,
Ryn, who is professor
of politics at The Catholic University of America, made a case for
humanism
and for unity through diversity. He addressed the need to avert major
conflict
by having different cultures cultivate their highest common
ground.
Professor Ryn is available for interviews with the news media. He can
be
reached by email:
<mail@nhinet.org>.
From Lecture One:
Humanism as
the Cultivation of Mankind's Highest Ground
There is an urgent need to explore in depth possibilities for
minimizing
tensions and to undertake efforts to reduce them. .. . Many in the West
and elsewhere trust in scientific progress and general enlightenment to
reduce the danger of conflict, but we need only look to the century
preceding
this one—the most murderous and inhumane in the history of mankind—to
recognize
that the spread of science and allegedly sophisticated modern ideas
does
not reduce the self-absorption or belligerence of human beings. It only
provides them with new means of asserting their will. Others in the
West trust in political and economic schemes to alleviate tensions,
"democracy" and "free markets" being the two most popular at the moment. These
prescriptions
for how to promote good relations between peoples give short shrift to
a subject that may in fact be far more important . . . : the moral and
cultural preconditions of peace. . . . [A]ttempts to avoid conflict
among
peoples and individuals are not likely to be successful without a
certain
quality of human will and imagination. That this subject is receiving
so
much less attention than proposals for introducing technology and
manipulating
political and economic institutions is a sign that our societies are
not
now well-equipped to deal with the most pressing problem of the new
century.
No serious examination of the question of peace can avoid its moral
dimension.
The fact that political, economic and other social circumstances
strongly
influence human behavior does not excuse us from considering the
character
of individuals as a source of conduct. Only by examining man’s basic
moral
predicament is it possible fully to understand the origins of conduct
that
reduces rather than increases the danger of conflict or how society
might
assist in fostering such behavior. Our frame of reference in trying to
determine the terms of moral existence will be the evidence offered by
our own selves, as augmented and elucidated by the historical
experience
of mankind. . . .
Nationalistic arrogance and economic ruthlessness endanger
international
harmony in a direct, palpable manner. But these are only particularly
troublesome
instances of a more general threat to good relations among cultures,
namely
that, instead of interacting on the level of what is morally,
aesthetically
and intellectually noblest in each, cultures encounter each other on
the
level of the mercenary, the grasping, the crude, the vulgar, and the
shoddy.
Whatever the momentary benefits to be derived from such interaction, it
does not form a basis for peace. Much of the popular Western culture
that
is absorbed by non-Western societies today creates a superficial
commonality
across borders, but it does not elicit among discerning elites the
respect
that might forge ties of lasting friendship. Cultures coming into
closer
contact while displaying their least admirable traits may in time
recoil
from each other, a reaction that is bound to be exploited by
opportunists
on all sides looking for excuses to exercise their will to power.
Here we must face the central problem that all societies and
all persons
are torn within between their own higher and lower potentialities. The
obstacles to realizing the values of goodness, truth and beauty and to
achieving peaceful relations among individuals and groups are
ubiquitous.
Historical and social circumstances may aggravate the problem, but its
most fundamental cause is that human beings tend to shrink from the
necessary
effort, prone as they are to less commendable desires. Progress
requires
protracted exertions. To the extent that a people falls short of what
is
best in its own culture, its members will exhibit such examples of
self-indulgence
as greed and intolerance. This will threaten its own social cohesion,
but
it will inevitably undermine international harmony also.
The view of human nature and society alluded to was until
the last
century or two wholly dominant in the Western world. It is similar to
beliefs
long influential in the East. A central feature of the traditional
Western
understanding of the human condition is the just-mentioned belief that
human nature is in tension between desires that will enhance and
complete
existence and ones that, though they may bring short-term satisfaction,
are destructive of a deeper harmony of life. To realize the higher
meaning
of life—what the Greeks call eudaimonia, happiness—the
individual
needs to discipline his appetites of the moment, try to extinguish some
of them, with a view to his own enduring good. By happiness was meant
not
a collection of pleasures, but a special sense of well-being and
self-respect
that comes from living responsibly and nobly, as befits a truly human
being.
The person aspiring to that kind of life must frequently say no to
pleasures
and advantages of the moment, namely those that are inimical to a more
deeply satisfying existence.
Yue
Daiyun (right),
Professor of Chinese and Director of the Institute of Comparative
Literature
and Culture at Beijing University and President of the Chinese
Comparative
Literature Association, opens the floor to questions for National
Humanities
Institute Chairman Claes Ryn.
The good life has many aspects and prerequisites—economic, political,
intellectual,
aesthetical, and moral—but there was widespread agreement in the old
Western
society, whether predominantly Greek, Roman or Christian, that the
orientation
of character, specifically, the quality of a person’s will, is crucial
to realizing life’s higher potential. A person who lacks the moral
strength
required for right conduct could not secure happiness by dint of
intellectual
brilliance, imaginative power or economic productivity. Christianity
has
regarded man’s cleft will, his often desiring what is contrary to his
own
higher good, as the crux of human life. Though the individual should
always
strive to contain his selfish and shortsighted inclinations and try to
act responsibly, his human weakness makes him heavily dependent on God.
Protestant Christianity has been especially concerned to emphasize that
not even the best of men are able to overcome their sinful inclinations
on their own, but need to have their higher will reinforced by divine
grace.
The Western tradition, then, has for the most part regarded
moral
character and the performance of good actions as the primary measure of
human goodness. The moral and religious wisdom of the West has
explained
and encouraged the kind of working on self that in time will build real
meaning and worth into human existence. Whether the aim has been
achieving
the happiness and nobility of a worldly, civilized life of the type
that
Aristotle advocates, or achieving the special peace of otherworldliness
and saintliness that Christianity regards as the very culmination of
the
religious life, there is no substitute for protracted, sometimes
difficult
moral striving. "I am the way and the life and the truth," proclaimed
Jesus
of Nazareth. Christianity has assumed that the validity of this claim
could
be confirmed only by one willing to undertake the kind of actions
entailed
by that statement. The East offers many examples of a very similar
outlook.
In Buddhism, the right Way is the diligent working on self to
extinguish
needless worldly desire. In The Dhammapada, the holy text
attributed,
at least in its general spirit, to the Buddha, we find these words
about
the path to Nirvana: "You yourself must make an effort."
In the West, perhaps the most radical and influential challenge to this
view of human nature has been that of Jean-Jacques Rousseau
(1712-1778).
Rousseau was, for example, the main intellectual inspiration for the
French
Jacobins, who spearheaded the French Revolution of 1789. For Rousseau,
the view of human nature just described is profoundly mistaken. There
are
in man no lower inclinations, no original sin, as Christianity
believes.
Man is born good, and his nature remains good. Man as he once existed
in
his primitive state, before the appearance of society, was a pure,
simple,
peaceful and happy creature. Such evil as exists in the world is due
not
to some perversity in man, but to wrongly constructed social norms and
institutions. Destroy the bad society, Rousseau contends, and man’s
goodness
will flow.
The view of Rousseau and related thinkers represents nothing
less
than a revolution in the understanding of morality and social
existence.
To summarize the change, virtue ceases to be a an attribute of
character
and right willing and becomes instead an attribute of feeling and
imagination,
a matter of the "heart." The old measure of goodness was responsible
individual
action. The new measure of goodness is tearful empathy, "pity." No
longer
is moral virtue thought to result from sometimes discomforting
self-scrutiny
and a diligent working on self. Since man is by nature good, there is
no
need for man to guard against his own lower impulses of the moment or
to
undertake a difficult disciplining of self. Neither is there any need
for
civilized norms or for social groups and institutions to buttress
morality.
Liberate man from traditional constraints, and goodness will flow
spontaneously
from human nature. . . .
Man being good, Rousseau and his followers transfer the most
significant
struggle of human existence from the inner life of the person to
society,
where evil forces must be defeated by the virtuous to make a good
society
possible. Rousseau’s redefinition of morality has had a profound
influence
in the modern Western world, where it soon began to invade even the
Christian
churches. . . .
But the traditional view of human nature and society has been
undermined
also by another powerful force, the kind of rationalism that seized the
initiative in the West with the Enlightenment. Representatives of that
broad intellectual movement have rejected the older view of man as
unscientific.
Their conception of reason is heavily slanted in the direction of
natural
science methodology and has little room for what might be called humane
wisdom. A better life, they argue, depends on man’s applying science
and
rationality, as they define them, to the problems of life. Improving
human
existence is a matter of restructuring society in accordance with
scientific
insights. The issue of moral character as traditionally defined seems
to
the Enlightenment rationalists marginal or irrelevant.
Rousseauistic sentimental virtue and Enlightenment
rationalism might
seem to represent entirely different approaches to life, but they share
elements that have made them frequent allies . . . . Both movements
abandon
the idea of the morally divided self and belittle the need for moral
self-discipline.
Selfishness, ruthlessness, avarice and conflict are not due to
any
chronic weakness of humanity to be moderated by self-restraint, but can
be overcome by intelligently remaking the social and political exterior.
To be conducive to good relations in the long run, political, economic,
scientific and other contacts need to be informed and shaped by a
morality
of self-control and by corresponding cultural discipline and
sensibility.
. . . What the world most seems to need is for a cosmopolitanism to
develop
that simultaneously affirms cultural uniqueness and pancultural unity
and
that does so on the basis of complete moral realism. The needed ethos
would
be much different from the kind of ecumenism that seeks to
promote
harmony by having different societies erase whatever is distinctive in
favor of an abstract homogeneity. A humanistic cosmopolitanism would,
on
the contrary, encourage particular peoples to be themselves in the
sense
of living up to their own highest standards.
It must be noted here that all of human life is for good or ill and
that
often cultural diversity is not a power for good. It can manifest
narrow-minded
provincialism, egotistical partisanship, decadence, recklessness and
brutality
and thus be a cause of conflict. Variety that is not humanized by
concern
for the higher life but that expresses mere arbitrary willfulness or
eccentricity
can give rise to great volatility and worse. Nationalistic
self-absorption
and arrogance has been a great and frequent source of trouble for
mankind
in the last two centuries. The great trouble with what is ordinarily
called
multiculturalism today is that it is quite unable to distinguish
between
diversity that ennobles and diversity that degrades human life.
Postmodernists
reject the distinction between good and evil. Many of them advocate a
merely
"playful" approach to life. They might consider that children are
taught
not to play with matches.
It is for the sake of peace but also for the sake of a more
rewarding
life for all that the elites of different societies need to cultivate a
common ground in regard to what is most humane in each culture. It
should
be clear from the argument presented here that the proposed humanizing
discipline is very different from trying to replace particularity with
an amorphous abstract or sentimental universalism. Cosmopolitan
humanism
recognizes that distinctive, historically formed cultural identities
can
manifest one and the same effort—more or less successful in particular
cases—to achieve a truly satisfying existence. Representatives of
different
cultures can reach each other as fellow human beings through their
cultural
individuality, as shaped by the shared higher striving.
Humanism simultaneously and indistinguishably cherishes the unity of
purpose
associated with life’s highest potential and the diversity that must of
necessity characterize particular attempts to realize it. At
their
best, moral and cultural creativity affirm the unity by ordering and
dignifying
the diversity and affirm the diversity by varying and enriching the
unity.
From Lecture Two:
Preconditions
for Transcultural Conciliation
The past as a living force
There can be no question of societies giving up their distinctiveness.
The history of a people profoundly affects its demeanor and its
potential,
shaping it in countless ways, most of which are not even visible to the
superficial eye. A people’s past is a source of social cohesion,
strength
and creativity, a heritage whose greatest achievements need to be
understood
by each new generation and to be made relevant to new circumstances. . . .
Each people has less than admirable traits and inheritances
of which
it would do well to try to divest itself, but it also cannot give its
best
without being itself, without its present efforts somehow expressing,
or
being genuinely adapted to, its historically evolved cultural identity.
Every other kind of effort would be mechanical imitation of alien
patterns,
an artificial appendage possibly destructive of that identity.
A complication
Those who would like to foster a spirit of humanism today must face
a special complication within and among cultures in the modern world—a
tension between traditional ways of living and thinking associated with
a religious and moral heritage and anti-traditional ways of living and
thinking associated with modern scientific and technological
civilization.
In the Western world especially, it has long been widely assumed that a
culture of enlightenment of the sort that took hold in the West in the
eighteenth century will eventually reconstitute all societies on an
allegedly
rational basis. . . .
The Enlightenment mind underestimates the depth of the moral
and cultural
problems of civilized life, specifically, the difficulty of achieving
self-restraint
and order. Though they are in some ways parasitic on an older moral and
religious heritage, enlightenment progressives do not accept what it
assumes
about man’s moral condition. According to that view, what is necessary
for the individual and society to become more harmonious and civilized
is for individuals to resist the self-indulgence that puts them at odds
with other human beings and to make the best of their own gifts. . . .
According to the traditional understanding, the moral struggle with
self,
the slow development of character, is only a part of the protracted
work
of humanizing existence, but it is the part on which all the
others—intellectual,
aesthetical, political and economic—ultimately depend for their health.
Sociopolitical arrangements can aid but not take the place of the inner
moral striving.
A common ethical center
Though cultures are bound to differ in how they approach and express
goodness, truth and beauty, there is among them, as previously
discussed,
also an historical confluence of moral and cultural sensibility of
great
potential significance for the future. The ancient civilizations of the
world have been in far-reaching agreement about what constitutes
admirable
human traits. Of particular relevance in a discussion of prospects for
peace is the widely shared belief that self-restraint and humility are
defining attributes of the exemplary person. That theme was long
pervasive
in the West. The ancient Greeks warned against the arrogance of hybris,
against believing yourself the equal of a god. . . . The danger of
pride
has been stressed even more in Christianity, which has also emphasized
that our primary moral obligation is not pointing out weaknesses in
others
and asking them to change, but diligently to attend to our own
weaknesses.
Christianity roundly condemns the conceit and moral evasiveness of
finding
fault in others. In the words of Jesus of Nazareth,
Take the log out of your own eye first, and then you will be able to
see and take the speck out of your brother’s eye.
From Lecture Three:
The Union
of Universality and Particularity
It has been suggested in these lectures that life contains
intrinsically
valuable potentialities that can be realized through effort. The notion
of universality associated with this view contains no implication that
all individuals and societies ought to conform to a single model of
life
or that universality can be imposed from without through political
engineering.
To explain further the conception of universality that is being
advanced,
it may be helpful to contrast that conception with a universalist
ideology
that assumes precisely what is here rejected. The ideology in question
is influential in the West, perhaps especially in the United States.
Its
representatives believe that a single political system is appropriate
for
all societies, and they are prone to advocating intervention in
societies
that do not conform to their preference. . . .
It is important to understand that this form of triumphalist
universalism,
though influential in the West, especially in America, is not without
its
critics and that it is in essential respects alien to the older Western
tradition. Specifically, the new Jacobinism is hard to reconcile with
the
view of life and politics held by the Framers of the U.S. Constitution,
men who are widely revered still, even as the older American political
tradition erodes. Although proximate in time, the ideas behind the U.S.
Constitution adopted in 1789 and those behind the French Revolution of
the same year are widely divergent. The U.S. Framers had a view of
human
nature and society radically different from that of Jean-Jacques
Rousseau.
Philosophical wisdom is for Plato not a product of Jacobin-type
rationality
but is indistinguishable from a soundness of moral character built up
over
many years through a subduing and ordering of the passions. Jacobin
reason
and virtue, by contrast, are blatantly political. They provide a
justification
for giving power to persons who claim to want to act for the good of
mankind.
Reason and virtue of this kind do not mainly manifest a desire to
control
and improve self but a desire to control and improve others. Jacobin
universalism,
wherever it occurs, does not have the effect of curbing the will to
power
but of stimulating it.
It is important to understand that the Neojacobin interpretation of
America’s
"founding principles" is willfully misleading. Unlike the leaders of
the
French Revolution of 1789, America’s leaders at the time of the war of
independence from England in 1776 and the adoption of the Constitution
in 1789 were not interested in ideological crusading. Americans hoped
to
set a good example for others, not impose their will on other peoples.
A central purpose of the U.S. Constitution is to restrain power, both
that
of the people and that of their representatives. . . .
The Neojacobin fondness for abstract homogeneity and deprecation of
historical particularity in fact runs counter to old American attitudes
and actual American history. . . . The Federal system set up by the
Constitution
granted the central government only limited and shared sovereignty,
leaving
power for the most part where it had previously resided, in State and
local
institutions and, above all, with the people themselves in their
private
capacities. The aim of the new constitutional arrangement was unity in
diversity or, as it might be even better phrased, unity through
diversity.
The union of States would help harmonize diversity and draw strength
from
diversity, not abolish it.
Peaceful relations among individuals, groups and peoples
require a robust
and resilient check on human arrogance and self-absorption. Besides
humility
and moderation, genuine mutual respect among cultures presupposes a
sense
of shared higher humanity and a recognition that this higher humanity
can
manifest itself in diverse ways. . . .
Abstract universalism means, in practice, a lack of respect for
individual
human beings and groups in their distinctiveness and for their special
needs and opportunities. It does not follow that postmodern
"historicism"
offers a humane alternative. True, we must recognize the inevitable
historicity
of human existence, its contextual and contingent character, but
postmodernism
turns even history into a meaningless notion by its frantic and
therefore
disingenuous denial of universality. Without some unity or "oneness" of
human experience, no consciousness could exist, and without a
continuity
of human consciousness there could be no history, only disjointed,
meaningless
fragments.
Synthesis of universality and particularity
The postmodernists share with the anti-historicist universalists the
assumption that universality and particularity are incongruous. The new
Jacobins attack historically evolved cultural identities in the name of
abstract universality. The postmodernists attack universality in the
name
of radical historicity. Neither side is able or willing to consider the
possibility of synthesis of the universal and the particular. . . .
The dialectical and synthetical relationship between
universality
and particularity may be explained in the most general terms. The good,
the true and the beautiful do in a sense not exist; they are always
unfinished.
They are qualities that an infinite number of not yet completed acts,
thoughts,
and works of art may have. But the good, the true and the beautiful do
at the same time already exist, as values that spur human beings.
Goodness,
truth and beauty also have already been created in countless acts,
thoughts
and works of art—in loving, morally responsible behavior, wise books
and
lectures, outstanding poems and compositions. These creations are among
the influences that now inspire individuals to new creativity.