The Human Condition,

Values, and the

. Search for Identity

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edited by
ds JORGE J. E. GRACIA
9 and

ELIZABETH MILLAN-ZAIBERT
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LATIN AMERICAN
PHILOSOPHY
LATIN AMERICAN
PHILOSOPHY
The Human Condition,

Values, and the

Search for Identity

edited by

JORGE J. E. GRACIA
and

ELIZABETH MILLAN-ZAIBERT

@) euler Besks
59 John nn Drive
Amherst, New aie eee MNS
 Published 2004 by Prometheus Books

Latin American Philosophy for the 21st Century: The Human Condition, Values,
and the Search for Identity. Copyright © 2004 edited by Jorge J. E. Gracia and Eliz-
abeth Millan-Zaibert. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be repro-
duced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means,
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reviews.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Latin American Philosophy for the 21st century : the human condition, values, and
the search for identity / edited by Jorge J. E. Gracia and Elizabeth Millan-
Zaibert.
p. cm.—
Rev. ed. of Latin American philosophy in the twentieth century. c1986.
Includes bibliographical references
ISBN 1-57392-978-6 (alk. paper)
1. Philosophy, Latin American. I. Gracia, Jorge J. E. II. Millan-Zaibert, Eliza-
beth. III. Latin American philosophy in the twentieth century.

B1001.L39 2003
199' 8—dc21
[B] 2003043184

Every attempt has been made to trace accurate ownership of copyrighted material
in this book. Errors and omissions will be corrected in subsequent editions, pro-
vided that notification is sent to the publisher.
CONTENTS

Preface

General Introduction 13

PART I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

Introduction 25

BARTOLOME DE LAS CASAS (1474-1566) 31

In Defense of the Indians (chapters 1, 2, 4, and 5) 33

SOR JUANA INES DE LA CRUZ (1651-1695) 51

Response to Sister Filotea (selection) 53
Poem 92, Philosophical Satire 59

SIMON BOLIVAR (1783-1830) 61

Jamaica Letter: Reply of a South American to a
Gentleman of This Island 63
Address Delivered at the Inauguration
of the Second National Congress of
Venezuela at Angostura 67

PART II: Philosophical Anthropology

Introduction 75
6 Contents

FRANCISCO ROMERO (1891-1962) 89

Theory of Man 91
Intentional Consciousness 91
Culture 94
The Self and the World: The Natural Man whe
The Spirit in General 96
The Uniqueness and Significance of the Spirit 102
Duality 108

RISIERI FRONDIZI (1910-1983) lll

The Nature of the Self itS
The Being and the Doing of the Self 113
Analysis and Analyticism 115
The Concept of Gestalt 116
The Structural Unity of the Self 118
Problems Solved by the Structural Conception 122

CARLOS ASTRADA (1894-1970) iy

Existentialism and the Crisis of Philosophy 129
[The Problematic of Man] ie
The Humanism of Liberty and Its Image of Man 135

FRANCISCO MIRO QUESADA (b. 1918) 145

Man without Theory 147
[The Failure of All Theories of Man] 147

PART III: Values

Introduction 161

ALEJANDRO KORN (1860-1936) 167

Philosophical Notes 169
[Value as the Object of a Valuation] 169
Axiology Ae)
[Valuation] 175

ALEJANDRO OCTAVIO DEUSTUA (1849-1945) 181

General Aesthetics 183
Aesthetic Experience 183

CARLOS VAZ FERREIRA (1872-1958) 193

Fermentary 15
What Is the Moral Sign of Human Anxiety? 195
 Contents

On Moral Consciousness

MIGUEL REALE (b. 1910)

Philosophy of Law
Values and the Realm of Ought to Be
Characteristics of Value
[Classification of Values]
Act and Value

PART IV: The Search for Identity

Introduction 219

A. THE NATION AND THE PEOPLE

DOMINGO FAUSTINO SARMIENTO (1811-1888) Zoo

Civilization and Barbarism Zoo
Physical Aspect of the Argentine Republic,
and the Forms of Character, Habits, and
Ideas Induced by It 239

JOSE MARTI (1853-1895) 245

Our America 245
My Race 253

JOSE CARLOS MARIATEGUI (1894-1930) PAS

Seven Interpretative Essays on Peruvian Reality 299
The Problem of the Indian 259

JOSE VASCONCELOS (1882-1959) 267

The Cosmic Race 269

SAMUEL RAMOS (1897-1959) Pate

Profile of Man and Culture in Mexico 281
The Profile of Mexican Culture 281

JORGE J. E. GRACIA (b. 1942) 287

What Makes Hispanics/Latinos Who We Are?
The Key to Our Unity in Diversity 289

LINDA MARTIN ALCOFF (b. 19——) 311

Is Latina/o Identity a Racial Identity? 313
8 Contents

OFELIA SCHUTTE (b. 1945) 309

Negotiating Latina Identities 337

B. THE THOUGHT AND PHILOSOPHY

LEOPOLDO ZEA (b. 1912) 305

The Actual Function of Philosophy in Latin America Riss
Identity: A Latin American Philosophical Problem 369

AUGUSTO SALAZAR BONDY (1927-1974) 309

The Meaning and Problem of Hispanic American
Philosophic Thought 381

ARTURO ANDRES ROIG (b. 1922) 399

Essays on Philosophy in History 401
The Actual Function of Philosophy in Latin America 401

ENRIQUE DUSSEL (b. 1934) 415

Philosophy of Liberation 417
History 417

Bibliography 429
Preface

A collection of philosophical readings is justified if it responds to a

need. It is clear that the English-speaking world needs a represen-
tative collection of readings from Latin American philosophers. Recently,
as universities strive to diversify the canons used to provide students with
a liberal arts education, more attention is drawn to traditionally marginal-
ized areas of philosophy, such as African and Latin American philosophy.
Yet, access to the latter is difficult because of a language barrier. There are
few English-language anthologies of Latin American philosophy. An early
one was Anibal Sanchez Reulet’s Contemporary Latin American Philos-
ophy (1954). Another, put together by Jorge Gracia, Eduardo Rabossi,
Enrique Villanueva, and Marcelo Dascal, joined its company thirty years
later, Philosophical Analysis in Latin America (1984). Yet, as its title sug-
gests, this anthology had the narrow focus of tracing and divulging con-
tributions from Latin American analytic philosophers, and analytic phi-
losophy is but one (and not the most widespread at that) philosophical
current in Latin American philosophy.
Recently, there has been a steady increase in the number of books and
articles published on Latin American philosophy. In 1989 the Philosoph-
ical Forum dedicated a double issue to Latin American philosophy, with
articles from the leading scholars in the field. Ofelia Schutte’s study, Cul-
tural Identity and Social Liberation in Latin American Thought, appeared
in 1993. And other philosophers, such as Linda Martin Alcoff, have begun
to turn their attention to issues within the Latin American philosophical
tradition. Alcoff’s recent work on mixed-race identity shows that much
fertile ground remains to be explored in Latin American thought, espe-
cially as North American intellectuals become more interested in race.
Eduardo Mendieta and Mario Saenz have edited collections of articles on

9
10
poe
SE 8 a Preface

Latin American philosophy with a primarily continental bent. Ivan Jaksic,

through his translation and scholarly work on the Venezuelan philosopher
Andrés Bello and other key figures of the period, is drawing attention to
South American philosophical and political traditions. And Susana Nuc-
cetelli has recently published a textbook, Latin American Thought, and a
collection of texts, Latin American Philosophy. Clearly, scholars in the
English-speaking world are turning to Latin America as a place of more
than just magical realism and political turmoil, and discovering a rich and
variegated philosophical tradition.
The present volume seeks to provide some insight into the tradition of
philosophical thought in Latin America. However, the preparation of a
truly representative collection of readings from Latin American philoso-
phers encounters serious difficulties. Generally, Latin American thinkers
have an extensive list of publications. In several cases, their collected
works extend to more than twenty volumes. Other difficulties are the het-
erogeneity of the themes in their works. Indeed, the very expression Latin
American philosophy poses problems, for Latin America is a diverse region
comprised of many countries with philosophical traditions that differ in
focus and quality. Furthermore, philosophy did not become institutional-
ized in Latin America as early as it was in Europe and the United States,
and so the writings of philosophers are often scattered in short-lived jour-
nals that are difficult to locate. These factors, among others, account for
the limited number of anthologies of Latin American philosophical texts
in English. The initial edition of the current volume was the first such
attempt since Reulet’s 1954 collection, and we are bringing out this
revised edition in order to provide an even more representative set of read-
ings.
The first edition was limited to twentieth-century authors, but the
present volume provides a broader historical dimension by including con-
tributions from two of the earliest phases of Latin American philosophy.
The texts we have included from the colonial and independentist periods
shaped the development of Latin American thought and represent a con-
cern for social justice that came to characterize the work of many Latin
American thinkers in the centuries to follow. The previous edition focused
on three fundamental and concrete problems: man, values, and the search
for philosophical identity. The present edition has replaced the focus on
man with a focus on the human condition, or what we call philosophical
anthropology. The section on values remains the same as the section from
the first edition. The section on the search for identity has been substan-
tially expanded and broken down into two parts: one on the nation and
the people and another on the thought and philosophy.
Whereas the first edition did not include selections by Domingo
Faustino Sarmiento, José Marti, José Carlos Maridtegui, Jorge Gracia,
 Preface 11

Linda Martin Alcoff, Ofelia Schutte, or Enrique Dussel, their work is rep-
resented here. The selections from José Vasconcelos and Samuel Ramos
that appear in this edition are different from those that appeared in the
first. And the selection from Augusto Salazar Bondy now appears in com-
plete form, whereas it was abbreviated in the first edition.
Although the publisher has indulged us with more pages for the pres-
ent volume, because we have added more texts, we were forced to drop
others. One victim of such cuts was the selection from Antonio Caso. Caso
is an important figure in the history of Latin American thought and it is
with regret that we exclude his work, but the new focus of the volume did
not leave room for his text. There are, of course, many important philoso-
phers whose work was not included in the previous edition and is not
included in the present volume.
The goal of this collection is twofold: (1) to provide the English-
speaking reader with a historical lens through which to begin a study of
Latin American philosophy; and (2) to illustrate in some depth several
contemporary trends that we believe will shape Latin American philos-
ophy throughout the twenty-first century. In a volume of this size, it is
impossible to offer a comprehensive sample of Latin American philos-
ophy, but we hope to have provided a kind of textual map for readers who
wish to explore further the rich tradition of Latin American philosophy.
The volume begins with an essay on contemporary Latin American
philosophy. Each of the four parts into which the book is divided is also
introduced by an essay, the first on the colonial beginnings and indepen-
dentist period, the second on philosophical anthropology, the third on
value, and the fourth on the search for identity. The essays introduce the
thought of the thinkers represented in the various sections and their
themes. A brief biographical sketch precedes each author’s text. A select
bibliography at the end is intended as a source of authors and works not
included here (but important in the field) and of information on other
texts by authors who are included in the volume.
The selections for Parts II and III have been taken from the first edi-
tion. Those selections were made in collaboration with Risieri Frondizi,
who was the senior editor of a more extensive collection, published in
Spanish and Portugese, entitled El hombre y los valores en la filosofia lati-
noamericana del siglo XX (1975; reprint, México: Fondo de Cultura
Econémica, 1980). The introductory essays to those parts as well as the
biographical sketches of the various authors contained therein have also
been translated from that edition, although modifications were introduced
to adapt them to the present context. The textual selections follow the
order of the discussion in the introductory essays. Square brackets indi-
cate additions made by the editors or the translators.
The institutions and persons who have provided assistance in the
2 Preface

preparation of this work are numerous. To each of them we would like to

express our profound appreciation, but limitations of space prevent us
from doing so explicitly in every case. We remain grateful to the late Mrs.
Josefina Barbat de Frondizi for her permission to print Frondizi’s intro-
ductory essays and for allowing us to edit them to fit the present context.
We are also grateful to the translators who spent long hours at their diffi-
cult task. The individual translators are indicated at the end of their
respective selections. Melanie Jopek Shaker, who was Elizabeth Millan-
Zaibert’s undergraduate research assistant at DePaul University for the
2000-2001 academic year (through the support of the College of Liberal
Arts and Sciences Dean’s Office), helped collect the new materials and
wrote the biographical sketch for the Dussel entry. She also assisted in the
process of updating the bibliography. Many thanks are owed to her. We
also consulted several scholars who work in the field. Oscar Marti, Ofelia
Schutte, and Leo Zaibert were most generous with their advice and we are
indebted to them for their suggestions. We wouid also like to thank the
authors and publishers who generously granted permission for the publi-
cation of the texts included here.
General
Introduction

he encounter between Iberia and pre-Columbian America posed

new challenges to European thought and initiated new develop-
ments in both places. In Iberia, new issues, primarily concerned with the
rights of conquered peoples, took center stage, and the greatest Iberian
philosophers of the times, such as Bartolomé de Las Casas (1474-1566),
Francisco Sudrez (1548-1617), and Francisco Vitoria (1492/3-1560), grap-
pled with them. In the colonies, pre-Columbian worldviews receded into
the background, making way for the concerns, first of the Iberians living
in the colonies, and then for native-born authors.
Given the colonial roots of Latin American philosophy, a strong con-
cern for sociopolitical issues, such as human rights and social justice,
have guided philosophical development in the region. In addition to
answering standard philosophical questions, such as What is goodness?
What is beauty? What is truth? Latin American philosophers have demon-
strated a firm commitment to more concrete problems involving educa-
tional policy, political organization, and social reform. Many of these
philosophers (see especially those included in Part IV) developed their
ideas not in technical articles and systematic treatises intended for spe-
cialized audiences, but in newspaper essays meant to be read by a broad
public. This is consonant with the view that philosophy should be a tool
for social change.
Four major periods in the history of Latin American philosophy stand
out and are represented in this collection: colonial, independentist, positivist,
and contemporary. During the colonial period (ca. 1550-1750) scholasticism
prevailed, partly as a result of its importance in Iberia at the time. However,
growing and pressing social concerns forced the scholastic focus on technical
metaphysical issues to make room for humanism and a concern with more

13
14 General Introduction

concrete problems, such as the just way to treat “the Indians” and how to
determine their rights. Las Casas was the leading humanist of the time.
A more complete break with scholasticism took place during the inde-
pendentist period (1750-1850), which takes its name from the goals of the
intellectuals in the New World who wished to gain independence from
Portugal and Spain. Its leading figures include Simon Bolivar (Venezuela,
1783-1830), who is featured in Part I; José Joaquin Fernandez de Lizardi
(Mexico, 1776-1827); Mariano Moreno (Argentina, 1778-1811); José
Cecilio del Valle (Honduras, 1780-1834); José de San Martin (Argentina,
1778-1850); Miguel Hidalgo (Mexico, 1753-1811); and José Antonio Paez
(Venezuela, 1790-1873), among others. These were men of action, com-
mitted to the cause of independence from Spain, and they were respon-
sible for redrawing the map of colonial Latin America. Their actions, more
than their body of writings, influenced later thinkers such as José Marti,
Samuel Ramos, and Leopoldo Zea whose work is featured in Part IV.
Once political independence had been achieved, a somewhat more
stable period began. This, known as positivism (1850-1910), shaped a
great part of philosophy in the twentieth century. With the exception of
scholasticism, positivism has been the most widespread and deeply rooted
philosophical current in Latin America. The depth of its impact was due
to historical factors: it arrived at the proper time and it addressed the need
for nation building in the region.
Positivism was initiated by French philosopher Auguste Comte
(1793-1857), who attempted to develop a rigorous and systematic under-
standing of human beings, in both their individual and their social dimen-
sions. He emphasized experience over theoretical speculation and empir-
ical science over metaphysics. The value of knowledge rested, according
to Comte, on its practical applications. He was not moved by a mere desire
to know: Knowledge was a servant of action and should lead to the solu-
tion of concrete problems. This practical aspect was one of the most cap-
tivating aspects of positivism for Latin Americans, who wished to over-
come anarchy, eradicate poverty and disease, and place their own coun-
tries on the path of progress.
This, however, was not the only reason for the wide acceptance that
positivism experienced. There were also reasons of a strictly cultural and
theoretical nature. Since the colonial period, Latin American philosophy
had been nurtured by scholasticism and, consequently, important prac-
tical issues had been neglected. Conceptual and terminological vagueness,
expansive speculation, as well as unfounded and archaic dogmatism were
predominant characteristics of much of the philosophy done in the region.
Positivism, by contrast, emphasized principles based on experience and
logical rigor, and offered the assurance of progress, insisting that its claims
rested on solid empirical evidence. There would be no more fruitless the-
 General Introduction 15

ories, idle speculations, and vain attempts. The newly liberated republics
of Latin America would finally leave not only the political legacy of colo-
nization behind, but the philosophical one as well.
Positivism benefited greatly from the increasing prestige of science,
because it proposed to limit its methods to those used by natural scien-
tists. It was widely believed by the thinkers who favored this perspective
that a new era had begun in which scientific study would make it possible
to identify the causes of social evils and to eliminate them, just as medi-
cine had begun to eradicate endemic diseases.
Comte’s law of the three stages captured the attention of many Latin
American intellectuals. According to this law, humanity passes through
three stages, the theological, the metaphysical, and the scientific or posi-
tive. In the theological stage, the interpretation of reality is founded on
prejudice and superstition. The metaphysical stage is dominated by spec-
ulation in which facts are either ignored or are not given adequate atten-
tion. Finally, in the positive stage, speculation is replaced by the estab-
lishment of facts, and knowledge is founded on experience.
Latin American thinkers applied this law to the history of their own
countries and believed it was confirmed by experience. An example of this
application is found in the Civic Oration that was delivered by the Mexican
positivist Gabino Barreda in Guanajuato (1867), in which he refers to, and
uses, Comte’s ideas. With this oration in mind, President Benito Judrez
named Barreda member of a committee to draft a law, approved on
December 2, 1867, that gave birth to public education in Mexico. The fact
that another renowned teacher, Justo Sierra, succeeded to Barreda’s position
and continued to apply positivist principles to educational policy explains
the strength that this perspective acquired and its predominance in Mexico
until the fall of the dictator Porfirio Diaz in 1911. Positivism was the official
philosophy in Mexico during the twenty-seven years of the dictatorship, and
the government was guided by Comte’s slogan “Order and Progress.”
The chaos and backwardness that prevailed in some Latin American
countries as the power vacuums left in the wake of the colonial rule were
filled by caudilios and other nondemocratic political figures and structures
helps to explain in part why positivist teachings captivated the minds of
so many intellectuals and politicians. The influence of positivism can be
observed in the work of Argentine thinker and statesman Domingo
Faustino Sarmiento. In the passages from his Civilization and Barbarism,
included in Part IV below, one can see that his notion of civilization is
shaped by positivist principles.
Positivism exercised strong influence on Argentine education, espe-
cially in the “School of Parana,” where Scalabrini, Ferreira, Herrera, and
others provided leadership. This influence was further enhanced by the
work of José Ingenieros, the Revista de Filosofia, and the Cultura Argentina
16 General Introduction

publishing house. Positivism was especially strong in Brazil, where the

positivist slogan, “Order and Progress,” was incorporated into the Brazilian
flag and reflected in the attitude of its political leaders.
Most countries of Latin America had their own particular way of
receiving positivism. One should also keep in mind that Latin American
positivism was shaped not only by the influence of Comte, but also by that
of the English philosopher Herbert Spencer (1820-1903). Comte had a
stronger impact in Brazil, Mexico, and Chile, whereas Spencer’s thought
was more influential in Argentina, Uruguay, and Cuba. In some cases pref-
erence was given to one thinker over the other for purely political reasons.
In Cuba, for example, Enrique José Varona (1849-1933) rejected Comte’s
ideas because they did not favor the emancipation of Cuba from Spanish
rule, and he adopted instead Spencer’s idea of liberty. In spite of these and
many other national differences, one can speak of Latin American posi-
tivism as a unified, yet evolving movement in which the influence of
Comte was greater toward the beginning of the period and that of Spencer
predominated toward the end.
The general decline of positivism stems from several factors. National
distinctions, of course, must be taken into consideration insofar as the pre-
dominance of any particular cause varies from country to country.
Although there were causes common to all Latin America, the reaction
against positivism in each country emerged from complex national situa-
tions, rooted in cultural, political, and philosophical conditions that make
it difficult to isolate specific factors. Thus it is best to speak of predomi-
nant influences.
The first general cause is the disappointment that Latin American
intellectuals experienced when reality did not measure up to positivism’s
promises and aspirations. Immediate and assured results were envisioned
and anxiously awaited, but progress was slow and uncertain. To uphold
general principles and criteria for the study of social problems is one
thing, but it is quite a different matter to develop effective, scientifically
based procedures that can be applied in order to solve concrete problems.
Stark reality shattered many illusions. It soon became evident that
divesture of traditional prejudices was not sufficient. The ideal of a scien-
tific knowledge of social reality began to crumble in the face of difficul-
ties, and the initial, naive optimism gave way to corroding pessimism.
The application of Comte’s views did not satisfy the expectations they
had awakened and, to make matters worse, no thinkers who measured up
to his standards emerged in Latin America. The majority of his followers
were content to repeat the ideas of the master without applying them to
the reality in which they lived. Philosophical theory should not be con-
verted into dogma; rather, it needs a continuing creative direction since its
application to reality is not a routine, mechanical task.
 General Introduction iz

Moreover, many thinkers began to discover fundamental theoretical

shortcomings in positivism. The indiscriminate application of the prin-
ciple of causality to everything led positivism to deny freedom to human
beings. Theoretical objections to determinism acquired great momentum
in the moral realm. No one can be responsible for an act if it is deter-
mined, the critics of positivism claimed. If an act is a physically deter-
mined bodily movement, there is no room left for human will; human
actions become mere mechanical occurrences, and the human firing of a
gun and killing of another human being is no different than a tornado
destroying a house. Positivism seemed to lead to an ethical dead end.
Hence, when Henri Bergson’s vitalism, with its rejection of determinism
and its defense of liberty, crossed the ocean from France, it is not sur-
prising that it met with a warm reception in Latin America.
One feature of positivism that led to frustration and its ultimate rejec-
tion in Latin America had to do with the devastating effects that its pro-
posed determinism was perceived to have for aesthetic creation. If
humans are not free, how can they be aesthetic agents? A mechanical
explanation of the creative process factored out the very meaning of
artistic creation, something that many Latin American thinkers found
unacceptable, including the Peruvian philosopher Alejandro Octavio
Deustua (1849-1945).
Another important reason for the rejection of positivism had to do
with politics. In some countries, as in Mexico, positivism was associated
with a dictatorship that had been overthrown; in others, such as Cuba, it
was believed to support the colonial status quo against the possibility of
independence to which many Cubans aspired. For countries which had
suffered first under Spanish oppression and then under a succession of
dictators, setting freedom aside seemed too high a price to pay for the
promise of progress. Indeed, freedom had become the battle flag, so if pos-
itivism could not make room for freedom, then positivism must be aban-
doned.
In each country, the reaction against positivism took on a character-
istic expression, although the dissatisfaction was fairly uniform
throughout Latin America. Mexico, however, was the first outlet for this
dissatisfaction and shaped it into a unique series of events. With the fall
of the dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz in 1911, positivism also fell, for its foun-
dations had already been undermined.
In 1909 a group of young intellectuals, who later acquired well-
deserved renown in the field of philosophy and literature, founded the
“Ateneo de la Juventud” (Atheneum of Youth). They studied the classics,
especially Plato and Kant, and contemporary philosophers who had
rejected positivism in Europe, such as Bergson and Croce. The influence
of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer, who had thrown their weight against the
18 General Introduction

narrow and scientific emphasis of positivism, was also felt. Following

these studies, lectures were given in which positivist doctrine was roundly
criticized and new ideas were proposed. Two figures from the Ateneo led
the drive to find philosophical alternatives to positivism: Antonio Caso
and José Vasconcelos.
In Argentina, the struggle against positivism was quite different. In
the first place, positivism was not involved in any political movement.
Furthermore, positivism had an effective role in the development of edu-
cational institutions and, through José Ingenieros, had acquired renown in
scientific and philosophical circles. This explains why Argentina has
remained a strong center of analytic philosophy, for positivism and ana-
lytic philosophy share a method connected to logic and science.
Nonetheless, although positivism was not completely rejected in
Argentina, as it had been in Mexico, important criticisms of it were voiced.
The two most distinguished figures in the opposition to positivism in
Argentina were Alejandro Korn and Coriolano Alberini. The latter,
although less gifted in creative ability, had more influence than the former
in casting positivism out of official teaching programs. A caustic spirit,
Alberini allowed no truce with positivism at the University of Buenos
Aires, an institution in which he was dean of the Faculty of Philosophy
and Letters on several occasions. Korn was less aggressive and fought pos-
itivism through his own, original position. In addition to his writings, his
major contribution was to encourage the formation of a group of students
whose philosophical orientation was not at all linked to positivism. Fran-
cisco Romero, who was introduced to philosophy through reading
Spencer, felt the influence of the group that surrounded Korn. Thus in
Argentina, positivism was overcome through the development of a philo-
sophical alternative to it, rather than through the kind of sharp polemics
that had characterized its demise in Mexico.
Similar reactions developed in other Latin American countries. Meta-
physics, vehemently attacked by Comte and his followers, returned to phi-
losophy. In some cases, this was due to the renewal of the classical con-
cerns of scholastic philosophy, and in others to the rise of philosophical
speculation in contemporary German thought which had come to hold
sway in many intellectual circles throughout Latin America.
The contemporary period, which is how we refer to the period that
follows positivism, can be broken down into three phases: foundational
stage (1910-1940), period of normalcy (1940-1960), and period of matu-
rity (1960-present). The first is usually referred to as the stage of the
founders, a description introduced by Francisco Romero. The philosophers
who are included in this group were the first to reject positivism even
though some of them had been among the first to embrace it. They
include: Alejandro Deustua, Antonio Caso (Mexico, 1883-1946), José Vas-
 General Introduction 19

concelos (Mexico, 1882-1959), Alejandro Korn (Argentina, 1860-1936),

Carlos Vaz Ferreira (Uruguay, 1872-1958), and Raimundo Farias Brito
(Brazil, 1862-1917), among others. These authors were influenced by
French vitalist philosophers such as Boutroux and Bergson.
The generation that followed the “founders” continued in their thrust,
further developing the vitalism and intuitionism that had been picked up
in the wake of positivism’s demise but adding a dimension inspired by
German thought. A major figure in this development was the Spanish
philosopher José Ortega y Gasset (1883-1955). He introduced the thought
of such philosophers as Max Scheler and Nicolai Hartmann to a genera-
tion of Latin American thinkers, thereby expanding the philosophical hori-
zons of the entire region. This generation, free of the polemic with posi-
tivism that had fueled the generation of founders, has been characterized
by Francisco Mirdé Quesada (Peru, b. 1918) as the “generation of forgers.”
Major thrusts of this group include historicism, existentialism, and philo-
sophical anthropology. Samuel Ramos (Mexico, 1897-1959), Carlos
Astrada (Argentina, 1894-1970), and Francisco Romero (Argentina,
1891-1962) are the key philosophers of this period.
Throughout the history of Latin American thought there is a tension
between those philosophers who focus on the universal human condition
and those who focus on the particular conditions of specific cultural cir-
cumstances. In Mexico, for example, many philosophers have discussed
the impact of colonization on the development of culture. This particu-
larist tendency grew out of a historical event that brought two traditions
into close contact with one another and heralded yet another stage in the
development of Latin American philosophy.
During the late 1930s and 1940s, owing to the upheavals created by
the Spanish civil war, a significant group of thinkers from Spain arrived in
Latin America. These philosophers became known as the transterrados
(translanded), those who had crossed over from their land to settle in var-
ious Latin American countries. Among these were Joaquin Xirau
(1895-1946), Eduardo Nicol (1907-1986), José Ferrater Mora (1912-1991),
José Gaos (1900-1969), Luis Recaséns Siches (1903-1977), and Juan D.
Garcia Bacca (1901-1992). Their presence helped to break some of the
national barriers that had existed in Latin America before their arrival.
The conception of hispanidad that they inherited from the Spanish
philosopher Miguel de Unamuno, and the need to establish themselves in
their adopted land, helped the process; they went from country to country,
spreading ideas and contributing to an ever-broadening philosophical dia-
logue. Their influence showed itself most strongly when the generation
born around 1910 reached maturity.
José Gaos was one of the most influential transterrados. He was a stu-
dent of Ortega and became the teacher of one of Mexico’s most important
20 General Introduction

philosophers, Leopoldo Zea (b. 1912). Gaos encouraged Zea to study the
history of Mexican thought, and this resulted in one of Zea’s most signif-
icant books, El positivismo en México (1943). Through Gaos, Ortega had a
strong influence on Zea. One of Ortega’s most important insights was that
in order to understand ourselves, we must understand our circumstance.
In Zea’s work, a central topic of discussion is the meaning of the Latin
American circumstance for the development of the philosophy of the
region.
Zea’s unique philosophical approach was also influenced by the Mex-
ican Samuel Ramos. The latter’s existential, psychoanalytic approach to
the problem of cultural identity was transformed by Zea into a critique of
philosophy and the articulation of a mestizo (mixed) consciousness. The
term mestizo points to an interest in issues associated with race and cul-
ture, and opens a philosophical discussion concerning the meaning of the
being of a person who is of both Spanish and indigenous heritage. The
source of this line of questioning can be traced back to the events fol-
lowing colonization, when the Spaniards mixed with indigenous people to
create what became known in the cultures of Latin America as a new,
mestizo race. Zea’s notion of mestizaje had a strong influence on the
Argentine philosopher Arturo Andrés Roig (b. 1922) and the Peruvian
Francisco Mird Quesada. The relation between these thinkers constitutes
an example of a growing philosophical Pan-Americanism. During this
period, philosophers from different countries in Latin America began to
respond to each other and to interact critically with one another.
This Pan-American trend continues and is further supported by the
activities of several philosophical societies founded to facilitate meetings
and publications. During the last fifty years, the level of philosophical
activity in several Latin American countries has improved significantly.
This is due, in part, to the institutionalization of philosophy. The number
of national philosophical societies and of centers, institutes, faculties, and
departments that have as their exclusive end the teaching and investiga-
tion of philosophy has increased substantially as has the number of phi-
losophy journals. All of this activity has begun to awaken interest outside
of Latin America.
One recent philosophical current that deserves mention is the philos-
ophy of liberation. It grew out of liberation theology, which in turn began
in Peru and Brazil. The immediate origins of this perspective can be traced
to the 1970s in Argentina, with a group of thinkers that included Arturo
Andrés Roig (b. 1922), Horacio Cerutti Guldberg (b. 1950), and Enrique
Dussel (b. 1934). Because of the political turmoil at the time, many of
these philosophers were forced into exile, thus disrupting the continuity
of the movement and leading to the creation of two distinct strands in the
philosophy of liberation, a historicist strand and an essentialist one, In
 General Introduction Bok

spite of differences, both share a common concern with what it means to

do philosophy from the periphery, that is, from the condition of depen-
dence that these thinkers claim characterizes Latin American culture. The
philosophy of liberation has been shaped by Marxist and Catholic ideas to
a great extent.
Latin American philosophy has a rich and variegated history. Latin
American philosophers continue to address specific social and political
problems that plague the population of the Americas, while remaining
engaged with the universal concerns that have characterized philosophy
since its inception. These have to do with problems related to truth, good-
ness, and justice, among others—problems that are not the product of any
political structure or geographical location, but part of the human condi-
tion itself.
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 PART I
Colonial Beginnings
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Introduction

li American philosophy begins with the process of colonization.

There are no surviving records of Mayan, Toltec, Aztec, or any
indigenous contributions to philosophy considered strictly. Colonial Mex-
ican philosophy may very well have taken up elements of the indigenous
thought already developed in that region of the continent, but as most of
what happened in the wake of the colonization, the colonizers took con-
trol over the development of philosophy.! This meant that scholastic phi-
losophy became the most influential trend in the New World.
The colonial period (ca. 1550-1750) begins within the scholastic fold
provided by the Iberian clergy sent by the Spanish and Portuguese Crowns
to convert indigenous people. The main philosophical centers during the
early part of the period were Mexico and Peru, the two places where there
had been substantial indigenous empires and rich natural resources such
as gold and silver, coveted by Europeans. The texts studied were those of
medieval scholastics and of their Iberian commentators. The major issues
addressed were similar to those prevalent in Spain and Portugal; thus, log-
ical and metaphysical questions dominated philosophical discussion.
Antonio Rubio’s (1548-1615) Logica mexicana was one of the most impor-
tant scholastic texts written in the New World.
Yet, although scholasticism was central and many thinkers continued
to write within this tradition, others were guided by humanism. These
thinkers were more concerned with the political and legal questions raised
by the colonization of the Americas. Arguably, the most important of
these thinkers is Bartolomé de Las Casas (1474-1566), a Dominican friar
who became the leading champion of the rights of the “Indians.” His long
life was devoted to arguing before the Spanish Crown that Indians,

PAs
26 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

although different, were just as human as the Spaniards and therefore just
as deserving of the same basic human rights.
It was Las Casas who first brought up what became known in Spain
as the “Indian Question.” As early as 1515, he began to petition the Crown
to enact laws that would eliminate the whole system of slavery. In 1550
an important debate took place in Valladolid, Spain, between Juan Ginés
de Sepulveda, a leading ideologue of the Conquista, and Las Casas. Las
Casas argued that it was unjust to wage war against the indigenous peo-
ples and to enslave them.
Las Casas also claimed that one of the first steps in the devastation of
these people was the system of forced labor known as the encomienda,
and he fought to have it abolished. In this system, a random number of
Indians was assigned by the local Spanish commanders to individual
landowners and “recommended” to them for the reason that they required
this protection for their prompt conversion. In effect, they became serfs,
for they were totally at the mercy of their new masters, and received no
wages or upkeep for the work that their protector or encomendero asked
them to do. Las Casas brought this unjust system to the attention of Holy
Roman Emperor Charles V (Charles I of Spain), and in 1542 new laws
were written for the colonies that prohibited the Spaniards from taking
Indians into service by way of the encomienda system. Sadly, these new
laws were revoked just three years later.
The colonization was fraught with social injustice. Yet, as the selec-
tion from the famous debate that Las Casas had with Sepulveda in Val-
ladolid shows, the Spaniards did not unequivocally support the oppres-
sion of the Indians. At the same time, while Las Casas has been heralded
as the “Defender of the Indians,” one must be careful not to paint too rosy
a picture of him. For a brief period in 1516, Las Casas endorsed the prac-
tice of importing Africans to the New World to do the work Indians had
been doing, in order to spare the Indians the hard labor that was leading
to their death.
Throughout his writings and deeds, it is clear that Las Casas was a
humanist who did not want to participate in unjust actions resulting from
colonization, but more than anything, he was a Christian who wanted
more souls for the Catholic Church. Before the Indians could be converted
to Christianity, first it had to be shown that they were human and there-
fore capable of understanding and voluntarily embracing the Christian
faith. Las Casas spent much time during his debate with Septlveda
arguing that the Indians were not barbarians by nature. In the debate, he
refutes Sepulveda’s thesis that a war is justified against the Indians
because they are barbarians who must yield to the civilized Spaniards and
must be punished for the human sacrifices they have committed.
Las Casas’s defense of the Indians reflects the influence of several
 Introduction Pai

sources. The thought of Aristotle (384-322 BCE), known as “the Philoso-

pher” among scholastics, is behind several distinctions upon which Las
Casas based his arguments. Other sources include Canon and Roman Law,
and such Christian thinkers as Augustine (354-430) and Thomas Aquinas
(1225-74). Las Casas was scholastically trained and the scholastic method
informs the structure and content of his rebuttal of Sepulveda.
In particular his case is based upon the distinction between essence
and accident, and a division of barbarians into those who are so “in the
strict sense,” or essentially, and those who are barbarians “in the
restricted sense,” or merely by circumstance or accident. This kind of dis-
tinction can be traced to Aristotle. According to Aristotle, every substance
has characteristics that are essential as well as others that are accidental.
Take for example, a cat: an essential characteristic or attribute of a cat is
that it has a head, for having a head is a necessary condition for some-
thing to be a cat. On the other hand, cats may be large or small, black or
white, so size and color are merely accidental attributes and play no role
in the definition of cat. Of human beings, Aristotle claimed that the essen-
tial attributes were rationality and other physiological attributes pertaining
to their animal nature, such as being a mammal and having lungs. Among
accidental attributes, on Aristotle’s scheme, are skin tone and height.
As part of his argument, Las Casas seeks to explicate the correct
meaning of the term barbarian. He points to the four types of barbarians
that Aristotle had discussed in the Politics, and proceeds to demonstrate
that the category of “barbarian in the strict sense” does not apply to the
Indians. He therewith refutes Sepulveda’s claim that “Indians are by
nature barbarians.”
Sepulveda and Las Casas represent two radically different responses
to the questions posed by the existence of people who appear unfamiliar.
Their debate in Valladolid raised questions concerning the definition of
humanity and the nature of justice, issues that continue to be pertinent in
the twenty-first century.
Social injustice did not have only one face in Latin America. Women
also suffered oppression, although for most of the thinkers of the colonial
period, this went unnoticed. Aristotle had claimed that women were infe-
rior to men, and most of his scholastic followers did not question this
view. But there were isolated voices in Latin America that cried out
against the claim that women were fit only for the kitchen. One of the
most eloquent and powerful of these voices was that of the seventeenth-
century nun Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (Mexico, 1651-1695). The two
selections from her work presented here reflect her intelligence and wit,
but most of all, her awareness of the unjust position of women in colonial
Latin American society.
A recurring theme in Sor Juana’s writings is the image of the human
28 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

being as a microcosm. This theme reflects the influence of Neoplatonic

philosophy upon her thought. In a time during which women were not
supposed to be educated, the philosophical formation that Sor Juana was
able to achieve was most impressive. She is known to have written a work
on logic which unfortunately has been lost. This text was composed in
Latin, the language of learning at the time. This is particularly noteworthy
when one considers the stereotype of women from this period, according
to which they could not learn Latin and studying it could even hurt them.
As a proverb of the time goes, Mujer que sabe latin, tiene mal fin (A
woman who knows Latin will come to a bad end).
It was not easy for Sor Juana to pursue her philosophical studies, for
even her superiors at the convent forbade it. As is evident in the selection
from Respuesta included here, Sor Juana took full advantage of any oppor-
tunity to learn; she even used her time in the kitchen (a place in which
she was encouraged to stay) to reflect upon philosophical issues. With her
characteristic wit, she observed that: “If Aristotle had cooked, he would
have written more.” Respuesta is largely biographical and provides us with
details concerning the difficulties that Sor Juana faced as a woman with a
desire for knowledge in a society that viewed the pursuit of learning as an
exclusively male enterprise. This work was written in response to a letter
from Sor Filotea de la Cruz, a pseudonym used by the bishop of Puebla,
Manuel Fernandez de Santa Cruz, who wrote to Sor Juana to remind her
of her position as a nun, that is, a woman of modesty for whom it would
be best to remain silent on issues where a woman’s voice was not wel-
come. Sor Juana’s Respuesta was a protest against any such a call to
silence her, even though she had in fact to hide some of her thoughts
behind a veil of humility and self-effacement. For example, in speaking of
one of her most important poems, Primer suerno, widely recognized for its
philosophical content, she says: “I recall having written nothing at my
own pleasure save a trifling thing that they call the Dream.” Sor Juana had
to present her ideas in this belittling way in order to escape the censure of
the authorities.
The final two selections of Part I in this collection are from Simén
Bolivar (Venezuela, 1783-1830), more commonly known as “the Liber-
ator.” His writings belong to the independentist period (1750-1850). The
leading intellectuals from this time were men of action who used ideas for
practical ends. The strong influence of Utilitarianism is reflected in their
emphasis on progress and the use of ideas as tools for social change.
Another source of their thought was the liberal views of the French
philosophes, who made reason a measure of legitimacy in social and polit-
ical matters.
Not all of the leading figures from this period were philosophers in the
strict sense. Bolivar, José Joaquin Fernandez de Lizardi (Mexico,
 Introduction bie)

1776-1827), Mariano Moreno (Argentina, 1778-1811), and José Cecilio del

Valle (Honduras, 1780-1834) can be most accurately characterized as
political leaders rather than strictly as philosophers. Instead of devoting
their lives to philosophical speculation, they were more interested in con-
crete actions that would lead to the political independence for the Iberian
colonies. Bolivar successfully led northern South America to indepen-
dence from Spain and was the founding father of five republics
(Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia). The two selections
from his works express some of the ideas that were used to change the
political structures in America.
The first selection is an excerpt from the “Letter from Jamaica” (1815).
This letter is addressed to the governor of Jamaica and responds to the
latter’s request for Bolivar’s views on prospects for Latin American liber-
ation and the establishment of one unified nation. It is a call to indepen-
dence from Spain.
Bolivar complains of both a state of permanent infancy experienced
by the nations of Spanish America and their dependency upon Europe.
(The problem of dependence is an enduring one, and it has shaped one of
the most important recent strands of Latin American thought, the philos-
ophy of liberation, as is evident in the selections from Arturo Andrés Roig
and Enrique Dussel.) A major theme of Bolivar’s letter is the problem of
identity, of what it means to be American. He points to the following ten-
sion: “In short, though Americans by birth we derive our rights from
Europe, and we have to assert these rights against the rights of the natives,
and at the same time we must defend ourselves against the invaders.” The
problem of identity is one that continues to hold the attention of philoso-
phers in Latin America, as the selections from Leopoldo Zea and Augusto
Salazar Bondy in this volume illustrate.
The second selection from Bolivar is from the speech he delivered to
the Congress of Angostura in 1819. Here it is Bolivar “the good citizen”
speaking, and not Bolivar “the Liberator.” He argues that Venezuela has
been liberated, and now the long task of nation building must begin. He
discusses the particular problems that the newly born nation faces in light
of its colonial past. He draws attention to what he calls the “racial mix-
ture” of the people of the region, while emphasizing the unity that must
prevail if the country is to prosper, claiming that political equality must
trump the physical and moral inequalities present among the people of
Venezuela.
Each of the three thinkers included in this section is not a philosopher
in the strict sense. Nonetheless, in order to understand Latin American
philosophy, some familiarity with the thought of Las Casas, Sor Juana Inés
de la Cruz, and Siméon Bolivar is necessary because these authors initiated
the discussion of topics that were later to be treated more systematically
30 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

by philosophers. These three thinkers laid the groundwork for a tradition

of thought rooted in pressing social and political problems.

NOTE
1. Consider the claim of Alexander von Humboldt (1769-1859), one of the
first non-Spanish Europeans to be granted permission to explore the colonies of
Spain (in 1799 he undertook a voyage that was to last until 1804). In his Political
Essay on the Kingdom of New Spain, trans. J. Black and ed. Mary Maples Dunn
(Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1988), Humboldt challenged the wide-
spread European view that there had been no serious scientific or cultural achieve-
ments made by the indigenous civilizations that preceded the Spanish Conquest:
“How shall we judge, from these miserable remains of a powerful people, of the
degree of cultivation to which it had risen from the twelfth to the sixteenth cen-
tury, and of the intellectual development of which it is susceptible? If all that
remained of the French or German nation were a few poor agriculturists, could we
read in their features that they belonged to nations which had produced a
Descartes and Clairaut, a Kepler and a Leibnitz?” (pp. 53-54).
Bartolomé de Las Casas
(1474-1566)

1» Casas was born in Sevilla in 1474, the son of a Spanish aristocrat.

He studied theology and law in Salamanca. In 1502 he set sail for the
New World and arrived in Santo Domingo (then known as La Espanola).
In 1507 Las Casas traveled back to Europe, but in 1511 he returned to
Santo Domingo and on November 30 of that year, he heard the famous
sermon of Friar Antonio de Montesinos, in which the conduct of the col-
onizers toward the Indians was sharply criticized. Las Casas’s debate with
Juan Ginés de Septilveda came at the end of a long life that had been
devoted to defending the cause of the Indians. He debated Sepulveda in
1550, when he was seventy-six years old. The path that led him there was
fraught with difficulties and not devoid of some poor judgments.
The source of many of his difficulties came from the publication in
1552 of a text entitled The Devastation of the Indies: A Brief Account. In
this work, he documented the savageries that the Spaniards had com-
mitted against the Indians. This text was immediately translated,
appearing in Paris in 1579, in London in 1583, in Amsterdam in 1607, and
in Venice in 1630. It was used by the enemies of the Spanish Empire to
show how cruel the Spaniards were and how unjust the treatment of their
new subjects was. Between 1810 and 1830 in Latin America, the book had
a direct influence on the leaders of the wars of independence against the
Spanish colonial power. In the Spanish-American War, Spain’s opponents
used the book to defame Spain.
This work offered startling figures on the number of Indians who had
been killed during the conquest, victims of malaria, famine, forced labor,
smallpox, and even of murder. In fact, however, his figures are more
modest than those of some researchers who speak of genocide and claim

aii
32 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

that in Central Mexico alone the population dwindled from twenty-five

million to six million.
After the rapid depopulation of the region, the colonizers began to run
out of labor power, and they then initiated the slave trade with Africa. Las
Casas’s tragic mistake was that for a brief period, in 1516, he defended the
practice of importing Africans to be slaves in the New World, if only to try
to spare the lives of the overworked indigenous population. He quickly
realized that the importation of African slaves was no solution to the
problem of the exploitation of the natives of New Spain, but rather a
broadening of this exploitation and therefore withdrew his support.
Although Las Casas’s mistake needs to be acknowledged and its
gravity should not be overlooked, this should not overshadow his genuine
concern for the rights of the indigenous people of New Spain. It is impor-
tant to remember that it was Las Casas who first opened what became
known in the Spanish courts as the “Indian Question.” As early as 1515
he began to petition the Spanish courts to enact laws that would eliminate
the whole system of slavery. In 1520, owing to the reports of Las Casas,
King Charles I of Spain (Holy Roman Emperor Charles V) recognized that
the procedures of the conquistadores in the Indian lands had been illegal,
and in 1542 new laws were written for the Indies. These laws prohibited
taking Indians into service by way of the encomienda system. Pearl
fishing, which had led to the death of many Indians, was also prohibited.
The new laws end with the following sentence, which offered much
promise to the defenders of the Indians: “The inhabitants of the Indian
Lands are to be treated in every respect as free subjects of the Crown of
Castile: for there exists no difference between the latter and the former.”
Sadly, the laws were revoked only three years later, on November 20,
1545.
Las Casas’s efforts to improve the lives of the native inhabitants of the
New World met with much opposition from the Spaniards who had immi-
grated to the Spanish colonies. He was charged with treason and accused
of being disloyal to the Crown, and had to make the long trip back to
Spain on several occasions to defend himself.
Las Casas died in Madrid, Spain, in 1566, and his remains were later
moved to Valladolid. He was neither a revolutionary nor a radical. He was
loyal both to the Catholic Church and to the Spanish Crown, he fought for
the equal rights of the Indians, yet for him the notion of a radical trans-
formation of the social order, which would allow Indians to choose a reli-
gion other than Catholicism, was unthinkable.
In Defense of the Indians

[2 who teach, either in word or in writing, that the natives of the

New World, whom we commonly call Indians, ought to be con-
quered and subjugated by war before the gospel is proclaimed and
preached to them so that, after they have finally been subjugated, they
may be instructed and hear the word of God, make two disgraceful mis-
takes. First, in connection with divine and human law they abuse God’s
words and do violence to the Scriptures, to papal decrees, and to the
teaching handed down from the holy fathers. And they go wrong again by
quoting histories that are nothing but sheer fables and shameless non-
sense. By means of these, men who are totally hostile to the poor Indians
and who are their utterly deceitful enemies betray them. Second, they mis-
take the meaning of the decree of bull of the Supreme Pontiff Alexander
VI, whose words they corrupt and twist in support of their opinions, as
will be clear from all that follows.
Their error and ignorance are also convincingly substantiated by the
fact that they draw conclusions on matters which concern a countless
number of men and vast areas of extensive provinces. Since they do not
fully understand all these things, it is the height of effrontery and rashness
for them to attribute publicly to the Indians the gravest failings both of
nature and conduct, condemning en masse so many thousands of people,
while, as a matter of fact, the greater number of them are free from these
faults. All this drags innumerable souls to ruin and blocks the service of
spreading the Christian religion by closing the eyes of those who, crazed
by blind ambition, bend all their energies of mind and body to the one

From In Defense of the Indians, trans. Stafford Poole; foreword by Martin L. Marty (DeKalb;
Northern Illinois University Press, 1992), pp. 25-36, 41-53. Copyright © 1992 by Northern
Illinois University Press. Used by permission of the publisher.

Bye)
34 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

purpose of gaining wealth, power, honor, and dignities. For the sake of
these things they kill and destroy with inhuman cruelty people who are
completely innocent, meek, harmless, temperate, and quite ready and
willing to receive and embrace the word of God.
Who is there possessed of only a sound mind, not to say a little
knowledge of theology, who has dared to pronounce a judgment and
opinion so un-Christian that it spawns so many cruel wars, so Many mas-
sacres, sO many bereavements, and so many deplorable evils? Do we not
have Christ’s words: “See that you never despise any of these little ones,”
“Alas for the man who provides obstacles,” “He who is not with me is
against me; and he who does not gather with me scatters,” and “Each day
has trouble enough of its own”? Who is so godless that he would want to
incite men who are savage, ambitious, proud, greedy, uncontrolled, and
everlastingly lazy to pillage their brothers and destroy their souls as well
as their possessions, even though war is never lawful except when it is
waged because of unavoidable necessity?
And so what man of sound mind will approve a war against men who
are harmless, ignorant, gentle, temperate, unarmed, and destitute of every
human defense? For the results of such a war are very surely the loss of
the souls of that people who perish without knowing God and without the
support of the sacraments, and, for the survivors, hatred and loathing of
the Christian religion. Hence the purpose God intends, and for the attain-
ment of which he suffered so much, may be frustrated by the evil and cru-
elty that our men wreak on them with inhuman barbarity. What will these
people think of Christ, the true God of the Christians, when they see Chris-
tians venting their rage against them with so many massacres, so much
bloodshed without any just cause, at any rate without any just cause that
they know of (nor can one even be imagined), and without any fault com-
mitted on their [the Indians] part against the Christians?
What good can come from these military campaigns that would, in
the eyes of God, who evaluates all things with unutterable love, compen-
sate for so many evils, so many injuries, and so many unaccustomed mis-
fortunes? Furthermore, how will that nation love us, how will they
become our friends (which is necessary if they are to accept our religion),
when children see themselves deprived of parents, wives of husbands,
and fathers of children and friends? When they see those they love
wounded, imprisoned, plundered, and reduced from an immense number
to a few? When they see their rulers stripped of their authority, crushed,
and afflicted with a wretched slavery? All these things flow necessarily
from war. Who is there who would want the gospel preached to himself
in such a fashion? Does not this negative precept apply to all men in gen-
eral: “See that you do not do to another what you would not have done
to you by another”? And the same for the affirmative command: “So
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 35

always treat others as you would like them to treat you.” This is some-
thing that every man knows, grasps, and understands by the natural light
that has been imparted to our minds.
It is obvious from all this that they who teach that these gentlest of
sheep must be tamed by ravening wolves in a savage war before they are
to be fed with the word of God are wrong about matters that are totally
clear and are opposed to the natural law. Moreover, they commit an
ungodly error when they say that these wars are just if they are waged as
they should be. They mean, I suppose, if they are waged with restraint, by
killing only those who have to be killed in order to subjugate the rest. It
is as if they held all the peoples of the New World shut up in cages or slave
pens and would want to cut off as many human heads as are usually sold
each day in the markets for the feeding and nourishment of the populace.
(I suggest this as a comparison.) But if they would consider that war and
the massacre of this timid race has lasted, not for one day or a hundred
days, but for ten or twenty years, to the incredible harm of the natives;
that, as they wander about, hidden and scattered through woods and
forests, unarmed, naked, deprived of every human help, they are slaugh-
tered by the Spaniards; that, stripped of their wealth and wretched, they
are driven from their homes, stunned and frightened by the unbelievable
terror with which their oppressors have filled them through the monstrous
crimes they have committed. If those who say such things would only
consider that the hearts of this unfortunate people are so shattered with
fear that they want to hurl themselves headlong into the deepest caverns
of the earth to escape the clutches of these plunderers, I have no doubt
that they would say things that are more temperate and more wise.
To come to the point, then, this Defense will contain two main topics.
First, I shall show that the Reverend Doctor Sepulveda, together with his
followers, is wrong in law in everything he alleges against the Indians.
While doing this, I shall provide an answer to all his arguments and to the
authorities he violently distorts. Second, I shall show how wrong they are
in fact, with great harm to their own souls. For the Creator of every being
has not so despised these people of the New World that he willed them to
lack reason and made them like brute animals, so that they should be
called barbarians, savages, wild men, and brutes, as they [Sepulveda et
al.] think or imagine. On the contrary, they [the Indians] are of such gen-
tleness and decency that they are, more than the other nations of the
entire world, supremely fitted and prepared to abandon the worship of
idols and to accept, province by province and people by people, the word
of God and the preaching of the truth.
As to the first point, which we have discussed elsewhere at greater
length and in general against all those infected with errors of this kind
about the question of unbelievers; for now, as a sort of assault on the first
36 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

argument for Septlveda’s position, we should recognize that there are

four kinds of barbarians, according to the Philosopher in Books 1 and 3 of
the Politics and in Book 7 of the Ethics, and according to Saint Thomas and
other doctors in various places.
First, barbarian in the loose and broad sense of the word means any
cruel, inhuman, wild, and merciless man acting against human reason out
of anger or native disposition, so that, putting aside decency, meekness,
and humane moderation, he becomes hard, severe, quarrelsome, unbear-
able, cruel, and plunges blindly into crimes that only the wildest beasts of
the forest would commit. Speaking of this kind of barbarian, the Philoso-
pher says in the Politics that just as the man who obeys right reason and
excellent laws is superior to all the animals, so too, if he leaves the path
of right reason and law, he is the wickedest, worst, and most inhuman of
all animals.
Boethius also speaks of these when he refers to the courtiers of the
tyrant Theodoric as barbarians because of their savage and insatiable
greed. “How often,” he asks, “have I protected, by putting my authority
in danger, such poor wretches as the unpunished greed of the barbarians
abused with uncounted false accusations?”
The Second Book of Maccabees also mentions this kind of barbarian.
For when Nicanor, a ruthless and savage despot, wanted to join battle
with Judas Maccabaeus in Samaria on the Sabbath, some of the Jews who
were with him said to him: “You must not massacre them in such a
savage, barbarous way,” that is, savagely and inhumanly. Both the Greeks
and the Latins, and any others who live even in the most highly developed
states, can be called barbarians if, by the savagery of their behavior, they
are anything like the Scythians, whose country was regarded as singularly
barbaric, as Isidore notes, because of the savage and inhuman practices of
this race.
. Indeed, our Spaniards are not unacquainted with a number of these
practices. On the contrary, in the absolutely inhuman things they have
done to those nations they have surpassed all other barbarians.
To this class of barbarian belong all those who, aroused by anger,
hatred, or some other strong feeling, violently defend something, com-
pletely forgetful of reason and virtue. Gregory speaks of this in his Letters,
and Gratian, when speaking of the uprising that occurred at Milan over
the election of one of the bishops, says: “Many of the Milanese, driven by
barbaric fury, come together.” In his Ethics, the Philosopher calls this type
of barbarian brutish when he writes: “It is found chiefly among barbar-
ians, but some brutish qualities are also produced by disease or deformity;
and we also call by this evil name those men who go beyond all ordinary
standards by reason of vice.”
The second kind of barbarian includes those who do not have a
 Bartolomé de Las Casas O7

written language that corresponds to the spoken one, as the Latin lan-
guage does with ours, and therefore they do not know how to express in
it what they mean. For this reason they are considered to be uncultured
and ignorant of letters and learning. Hence, so that his own people, the
English, might not be regarded as barbarians, the Venerable Bede wrote in
English on all the branches of the liberal arts, as we read in his life and as
Saint Thomas notes. Likewise, Saint Gregory speaks in his Moralia as John
Gerson quotes him:

See how the tongue of Britain, which knew only how to grind out bar-
baric sounds, has long since begun to resound with Hebrew words in
praise of God. See how the ocean, which before was swelling, is now
calmed beneath the feet of the saints and is subject to them. Its barbarous
motions, which the princes of the earth had not been able to control with
the sword, the mouths of priests now bind with simple words through
the fear of God.

In this sense he is called a barbarian who, because of the difference

of his language, does not understand another speaking to him. Thus Paul,
speaking of himself, says: “If I am ignorant of what the sound means, |
am a barbarian to the man who is speaking and he is a barbarian to me.”
Saint John Chrysostom often calls the holy kings, the Magi, barbarians in
this sense: “Indeed, because a star called the wise men from the east and
barbarous men underwent the fatigue of so long a pilgrimage.”
Barbarians of this kind are not called barbarians in the absolute but
in a restricted sense; that is, they are not barbarians literally but by cir-
cumstance, as Chrysostom indicates in the same passage when he says:
“The star which had gone before them only to desert them, leads to his
worship not just any barbarians, but those among them who were indeed
outstanding in the dignity of wisdom.”
From these words of Chrysostom it is obvious that a people can be
called barbarians and still be wise, courageous, prudent, and lead a set-
tled life. So, in ancient times, the Greeks called the Romans barbarians,
and, in turn, the Romans called the Greeks and other nations of the world
barbarians. It is quite clear that in the first book of the Politics the Philoso-
pher is not talking about this category when he writes that barbarians are
by nature slaves and do not have the ability to govern themselves or
others. However, he speaks of this kind of barbarian in the third book of
the Politics, where, discussing the four kinds of kings and kingdoms, he
places barbarian kingdoms in the second place. Although he says their
rulers are rather like tyrants, nevertheless he holds that they are legal and
hereditary rulers according to the usage of their country. Their subjects are
so virtuous that they bear the exactions, taxes, burdens, and labors their
38 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

rulers demand from them, even though they are burdensome. He also
writes that these kingdoms are more stable and secure than others, for
their subjects love and protect the ruler who governs them according to
the practices of the country and who is the natural ruler whose children
will inherit his kingdom.
This is what Aristotle says:

There is another sort of monarchy not uncommon among barbarians,

which closely resembles tyranny. But this is both legal and hereditary.
For barbarians, being more servile in character than Greeks, and Asiatics
than Europeans, do not rebel against a despotic government. Such royal-
ties have the nature of tyrannies but there is no danger of their being
overthrown, for they are hereditary and legal. For this reason also, their
guards are such as a king and not such as a tyrant would employ. For
kings are guarded by citizen-soldiers, tyrants, however, by mercenaries.
For kings rule according to law over voluntary subjects, but tyrants over
involuntary [subjects]; and the ones are guarded by their fellow-citizens,
the others are guarded against them.

The third kind of barbarian, in the proper and strict meaning of the
word, are those who, either because of their evil and wicked character or
the barrenness of the region in which they live, are cruel, savage, sottish,
stupid, and strangers to reason. They are not governed by law or right, do
not cultivate friendships, and have no state or politically organized com-
munity. Rather, they are without ruler, laws, and institutions. They do not
contract marriage according to any set forms and, finally, they do not
engage in civilized commerce. They do not buy, they do not sell, they do
not hire, they do not lease, they do not make contracts, they do not
deposit, they do not borrow, they do not lend. Finally, they enter into none
of the contracts regulated by the law of nations. Indeed, they live spread
out and scattered, dwelling in the forests and in the mountains, being con-
tent with their mates only, just as do animals, both domestic and wild.
These are barbarians in the absolute and strict sense of the word, such
as were perhaps living in the country that has been named Barbary. They
lack the reasoning and way of life suited to human beings and those
things which all men habitually accept. The Philosopher discusses these
barbarians and calls them slaves by nature since they have no natural gov-
ernment, no political institutions (for there is no order among them), and
they are not subject to anyone, nor do they have a ruler. Certainly, no one
among such men has the skill needed for government, nor is there among
them quickness of mind or correctness of judgment. As a result, they do
not want to choose a ruler for themselves who would bind them to virtue
under political rule. They have no laws which they fear or by which all
their affairs are regulated. There is no one to evaluate good deeds, pro-
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 39

mote virtue, or restrain vice by penalties. Finally, caring nothing for life in
a society, they lead a life very much like that of brute animals. Since they
fall so far short of other men in intellectual capacity and behavior, they
are inclined to harm others. They are quick to fight, quarrelsome, eager
for war, and inclined to every kind of savagery. They live on their prey like
wild beasts and birds. Hence they are not naturally free except at home,
since they have no one to rule them.
Against these, the Philosopher cites Homer’s reproach of a certain
person whom he calls unsociable, because of his evil disposition, and iso-
lated without anyone living nearby, because he has such traits that he
would be unable to establish or continue any friendship or close associa-
tion. He calls him lawless because he did not submit to the rule of law. He
calls him restless and factious and, finally, wicked and criminal, since he
cannot bring his acts into line with the dictates of reason, and hence, avid
for battles and brawls, he became ready for and swift to every evil. We see
all this in birds of prey that do not fly together in a flock. The saying of
the Philosopher applied to these men:

He who is without a state is either above humanity or a beast, so that he

is contemptuously denounced by Homer as “the tribeless, lawless, home-
less one”; for he is so by nature, craving war like one who is not
restrained by any yoke, like vultures.

Barbarians of this kind (or better, wild men) are rarely found in any
part of the world and are few in number when compared with the rest of
mankind, as Aristotle notes at the beginning of the seventh book of the
Ethics. So, too, men endowed with heroic virtue, whom we call heroes
and demigods, are also quite rare.
The Philosopher makes the same point in his On Heaven and Earth,
where he writes: “Nature always follows the best course possible,” and
somewhat further on: “Nature lavishes greater care on the nobler things,”
and again, in his work On Old Age and Youth, he says: “Nature makes the
best possible things.” Furthermore, in the Rhetoric he states: “Things
which happen by nature have a fixed and intrinsic cause, since they occur
uniformly, either always or in most cases.” Therefore, for the most part,
nature brings forth and produces what is best and perfect. Rarely do nat-
ural causes fail to produce the effects which follow from their natures.
Seldom is a man born lame, crippled, blind, or one-eyed, or with the soles
on top of the feet, as some were in Africa, according to the testimony of
Augustine and others. Generally, fire generates fire; oil, oil; man, another
man. Finally, every creature brings forth and generates perfectly what is
like itself and is of the same species, and all men naturally understand and
admit first principles.
40 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

The only reason for this, of course, is that the works of nature are the
works of the Supreme Intellect who is God, as is stated in the Book on
Causes. For this reason it is in accord with divine providence and good-
ness that nature should always or for the most part produce the best and
the perfect, [and] rarely and exceptionally the imperfect and the very bad.
Therefore this kind of barbarian is savage, imperfect, and the worst of
men, and they are mistakes of nature or freaks in a rational nature, as the
Commentator on The Soul says in the following words: “What intellectual
error and false opinion are in relation to the thinking process, so is the
freak to bodily nature.” And since a rational nature is provided for and
guided by divine providence for its own sake in a way superior to that of
other creatures, not only in what concerns the species but also each indi-
vidual, it evidently follows that it would be impossible to find in a rational
nature such a freak or mistake of nature, that is, one that does not fit the
common notion of man, except very rarely and in far fewer instances than
in other creatures. For the good and all-powerful God, in his love for
mankind, has created all things for man’s use and protects him whom he
has endowed with so many qualities by a singular affection and care (as
we have said), and guides his actions and enlightens each one’s mind and
disposes him for virtue in accordance with the ability given to him. Hence
it necessarily follows that a rational nature, receiving its power from the
Creator alone, should include men who, as a rule, are endowed with the
best gifts of their nature and are rarely slow witted or barbarous. For if
nature does this for beasts, why will it not do the same for man, whom
God willed to stand above all other animals, chosen for himself and won-
derfully endowed? And we must hold that nature makes man more per-
fect in no other way than by his intellect, by which he most specially
stands above the other animals.
Who, therefore, except one who is irreverent toward God and con-
temptuous of nature, has dared to write that countless numbers of natives
across the ocean are barbarous, savage, uncivilized, and slow witted
when, if they are evaluated by an accurate judgment, they completely out-
number all other men? This is consistent with what Saint Thomas writes:
“The good which is proportionate to the common state of nature is to be
found in most men and is lacking only in a few. . . . Thus it is clear that
the majority of men have sufficient knowledge to guide their lives, and the
few who do not have this knowledge are said to be half-witted or fools.”
Therefore, since barbarians of that kind, as Saint Thomas says, lack that
good of the intellect which is knowledge of the truth, a good proportionate
to the common condition of rational nature, it is evident that in each part
of the world, or anywhere among the nations, barbarians of this sort or
freaks of rational nature can only be quite rare. For since God’s love for
mankind is so great and it is his will to save all men, it is in accord with
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 41

his wisdom that in the whole universe, which is perfect in all its parts, his
supreme wisdom should shine more and more in the most perfect thing:
rational nature. Therefore, the barbarians of the kind we have placed in
the third category are most rare, because with such natural endowments
they cannot seek God, know him, call upon him, or love him. They do not
have a capacity for doctrine or for performing the acts of faith or love.
Again, if we believe that such a huge part of mankind is barbaric, it
would follow that God’s design has for the most part been ineffective,
with so many thousands of men deprived of the natural light! that is
common to all peoples. And so there would be a great reduction in the
perfection of the entire universe—something that is unacceptable and
unthinkable for any Christian. Saint Thomas says that for this reason God
created immense numbers of angels, many more than material beings. He
offers as the reason “that since it is perfection of the universe which God
chiefly intends in the creation of things, the more perfect some things are,
in so much greater abundance were they created by God.” We can also
cite on this point the teaching of the holy doctor that many more angels
remained in heaven than fell. Saint Thomas is moved by the consideration
that “sin is contrary to natural inclination. Those things which are against
the natural order happen with less frequency for nature attains its effects
either always or more often than not.” ...
As a result of the points we have proved and made clear, the distinction
the Philosopher makes between the two above-mentioned kinds of bar-
barian is evident. For those he deals with in the first book of the Politics,
and whom we have just discussed, are barbarians without qualification, in
the proper and strict sense of the word, that is, dull witted and lacking in
the reasoning powers necessary for self-government. They are without laws,
without king, etc. For this reason they are by nature unfitted for rule.
However, he admits, and proves, that the barbarians he deals with in
the third book of the same work have a lawful, just, and natural govern-
ment. Even though they lack the art and use of writing, they are not
wanting in the capacity and skill to rule and govern themselves, both pub-
licly and privately. Thus they have kingdoms, communities, and cities that
they govern wisely according to their laws and customs. Thus their gov-
ernment is legitimate and natural, even though it has some resemblance to
tyranny. From these statements we have no choice but to conclude that the
rulers of such nations enjoy the use of reason and that their people and the
inhabitants of their provinces do not lack peace and justice. Otherwise they
could not be established or preserved as political entities for long. This is
made clear by the Philosopher and Augustine. Therefore not all barbarians
are irrational or natural slaves or unfit for government. Some barbarians,
then, in accord with justice and nature, have kingdoms, royal dignities,
jurisdiction, and good laws, and there is among them lawful government.
42 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

Now if we shall have shown that among our Indians of the western
and southern shores (granting that we call them barbarians and that they
are barbarians) there are important kingdoms, large numbers of people
who live settled lives in a society, great cities, kings, judges and laws, per-
sons who engage in commerce, buying, selling, lending, and the other
contracts of the law of nations, will it not stand proved that the Reverend
Doctor Sepulveda has spoken wrongly and viciously against peoples like
these, either out of malice or ignorance of Aristotle’s teaching, and, there-
fore, has falsely and perhaps irreparably slandered them before the entire
world? From the fact that the Indians are barbarians it does not necessarily
follow that they are incapable of government and have to be ruled by
others, except to be taught about the Catholic faith and to be admitted to
the holy sacraments. They are not ignorant, inhuman, or bestial. Rather,
long before they had heard the word Spaniard they had properly orga-
nized states, wisely ordered by excellent laws, religion, and custom. They
cultivated friendship and, bound together in common friendship, lived in
populous cities in which they wisely administered the affairs of both
peace and war justly and equitably, truly governed by laws that at very
many points surpass ours, and could have won the admiration of the sages
of Athens, as I will show in the second part of this Defense.
Now if they are to be subjugated by war because they are ignorant of
polished literature, let Sepulveda hear Trogus Pompey:

Nor could the Spaniards submit to the yoke of a conquered province until
Caesar Augustus, after he had conquered the world, turned his victorious
armies against them and organized that barbaric and wild people as a
province, once he had led them by law to a more civilized way of life.

Now see how he called the Spanish people barbaric and wild. I would like
to hear Sepulveda, in his cleverness, answer this question: Does he think
that the war of the Romans against the Spanish was justified in order to
free them from barbarism? And this question also: Did the Spanish wage
an unjust war when they vigorously defended themselves against them?
Next, I call the Spaniards who plunder that unhappy people torturers.
Do you think that the Romans, once they had subjugated the wild and bar-
baric peoples of Spain, could with secure right divide all of you among
themselves, handing over so many head of both males and females as allot-
ments to individuals? And do you then conclude that the Romans could
have stripped your rulers of their authority and consigned all of you, after
you had been deprived of your liberty, to wretched labors, especially in
searching for gold and silver lodes and mining and refining the metals?
And if the Romans finally did that, as is evident from Diodorus, [would you
not judge] that you also have the right to defend your freedom, indeed your
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 43

very life, by war? Sepulveda, would you have permitted Saint James to
evangelize your own people on Cérdoba in that way? For God’s sake and
man’s faith in him, is this the way to impose the yoke of Christ on Chris-
tian men? Is this the way to remove wild barbarism from the minds of bar-
barians? Is it not, rather, to act like thieves, cut-throats, and cruel plun-
derers and to drive the gentlest of people headlong into despair? The Indian
race is not that barbaric, nor are they dull witted or stupid, but they are
easy to teach and very talented in learning all the liberal arts, and very
ready to accept, honor, and observe Christian religion and correct their sins
(as experience has taught) once priests have introduced them to the sacred
mysteries and taught them the word of God. They have been endowed with
excellent conduct, and before the coming of the Spaniards, as we have
said, they had political states that were well founded on beneficial laws.
Furthermore, they are so skilled in every mechanical art that with
every right they should be set ahead of all the nations of the known world
on this score, so very beautiful in their skill and artistry are the things this
people produces in the grace of its architecture, its painting, and its
needlework. But Sepulveda despises these mechanical arts, as if these
things do not reflect inventiveness, ingenuity, industry, and right reason.
For a mechanical art is an operative habit of the intellect that is usually
defined as “the right way to make things, directing the acts of the reason,
through which the artisan proceeds in orderly fashion, easily, and unerr-
ingly in the very act of reason.” So these men are not stupid, Reverend
Doctor. Their skillfully fashioned works of superior refinement awaken the
admiration of all nations, because works proclaim a man’s talent, for, as
the poet says, the work commends the craftsman. Also Prosper [of
Aquitaine] says: “See, the maker is proclaimed by the wonderful signs of
his work and the effects, too, sing of their author.”
In the liberal arts that they have been taught up to now, such as
grammar and logic, they are remarkably adept. With every kind of music
they charm the ears of their audience with wonderful sweetness. They
write skillfully and quite elegantly, so that most often we are at a loss to
know whether the characters are handwritten or printed. I shall explain
this at greater length in the second part of this Defense, not by quoting the
totally groundless lies of the worst [deceivers] in the histories published
so far but the truth itself and what I have seen with my eyes, felt with my
hands, and heard with my own ears while living a great many years
among those peoples.
Now if Sepulveda had wanted, as a serious man should, to know
the full truth before he sat down to write with his mind corrupted by the
lies of tyrants, he should have consulted the honest religious who have
lived among those peoples for many years and know their endowments of
character and industry, as well as the progress they have made in religion
44 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

and morality. Indeed, Rome is far from Spain, yet in that city the talent of
these people and their aptitude and capacity for grasping the liberal arts
have been recognized. Here is Paolo Giovo, bishop of Nocera, in praise of
those people whom you call’dull witted and stupid. In his History of His
Times he has left this testimony for later generations to read:

Hernan Cortés, hurrying overland to the kingdom of Mexico after

defeating the Indians, occupied the city of Tenochtitlan, after he had con-
quered in many battles, using boats which he had built, that city set upon
a salt lagoon—wonderful like the city of Venice in its buildings and the
size of its population.

As you see, he declares that the Indian city is worthy of admiration

because of its buildings, which are like those of Venice.
As to the terrible crime of human sacrifice, which you exaggerate, see
what Giovio adds in the same place. “The rulers of the Mexicans have a
right to sacrifice living men to their gods, provided they have been con-
demned for a crime.” Concerning the natural gifts of that people, what
does he assert? “Thus it was not altogether difficult for Cortés to lead a
gifted and teachable people, once they had abandoned their superstitious
idolatry, to the worship of Christ. For they learn our writing with pleasure
and with admiration, now that they have given up the hieroglyphics by
which they used to record their annals, enshrining for posterity in various
symbols the memory of their kings.”
This is what you, a man of great scholarship, should have done in
ascertaining the truth, instead of writing, with the sharp edge of your pen
poised for the whispers of irresponsible men, your little book that slanders
the Indian inhabitants of such a large part of the earth. Do you quote to
us Oviedo’s History, which bears the approval of the Royal Council, as
though Oviedo, as he himself testifies, was not a despotic master who kept
unfortunate Indians oppressed by slavery like cattle and, in imitation of
the other thieves, ruined a great part of the continent, or as though the
Council, when it approves a book, appears to approve also the lies it con-
tains, or as if, when the Council approves a book, it knows whether its
contents are true? To this enemy you give your belief, as also to the one
who is an interested party. For he possessed an allotment of Indians, as
did the other tyrannical masters.
From this it is clear that the basis for Septilveda’s teaching that these
people are uncivilized and ignorant is worse than false. Yet even if we
were to grant that this race has no keenness of mind or artistic ability, cer-
tainly they are not, in consequence, obliged to submit themselves to those
who are more intelligent and to adopt their ways, so that, if they refuse,
they may be subdued by having war waged against them and be enslaved,
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 45

as happens today. For men are obliged by the natural law to do many
things they cannot be forced to do against their will. We are bound by the
{natural law to embrace virtue and imitate the uprightness of good men.
No one, however, is punished for being bad unless he is guilty of rebel-
lion. Where the Catholic faith has been preached in a Christian manner
and as it ought to be, all men are bound by the natural law to accept it,
yet no one is forced to accept the faith of Christ. No one is punished
because he is sunk in vice, unless he is rebellious or harms the property
and persons of others. No one is forced to embrace virtue and show him-
self as a good man. One who receives a favor is bound by the natural law
to return the favor by what we call antidotal obligation. Yet no one is
forced to this, nor is he punished if he omits it, according to the common
interpretation of the jurists.
To relieve the need of a brother is a work of mercy to which nature
inclines and obliges men, yet no one is forced to give alms. . . . Therefore,
not even a truly wise man may force an ignorant barbarian to submit to
him, especially by yielding his liberty, without doing him an injustice.
This the poor Indians suffer, with extreme injustice, against all the laws of
God and of men and against the law of nature itself. For evil must not be
done that good may come of it, for example, if someone were to castrate
another against his will. For although eunuchs are freed from the lust that
drives human minds forward in its mad rush, yet he who castrates another
is not severely punished.
Now if, on the basis of this utterly absurd argument, war against the
Indians were lawful, one nation might rise up against another and one man
against another man, and on the pretext of superior wisdom, might strive
to bring the other into subjection. On this basis the Turks, and the Moors—
the truly barbaric scum of the nations—with complete right and in accord
with the law of nature could carry on war, which, as it seems to some, is
permitted to us by a lawful decree of the state. If we admit this, will not
everything high and low, divine and human, be thrown into confusion?
What can be proposed more contrary to the eternal law than what
Sepulveda often declares? What plague deserves more to be loathed? I am
of the opinion that Sepulveda, in his modesty, thinks Spain regards other
nations as wiser than herself. Therefore she must be forced to submit to
them according to the eternal law! And, indeed, the \eternal law has
arranged and determined all things in admirable proportion and order. It
separated kingdom from kingdom and people from people “when the Most
High gave the nations their inheritance, when he divided the sons of men.”
Also, each nation placed over itself, under divine guidance, a king and
rulers: “Over each nation he has set a governor.” For all kings or rulers,
even among the barbarians, are servants of God, as divine wisdom teaches:
“By me monarchs rule and princes issue just laws; by me rulers govern and
46 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

the great impose justice on the world.” And all kings and governors who
fail to rule their subjects rightly, barbarians or not, are violators of the
eternal law and face God, who is the avenging judge of that transgression.
Since, therefore, every nation by the eternal law has a ruler or prince, itis
wrong for one nation to attack another under pretext of being superior in
wisdom or to overthrow other kingdoms. For it acts contrary to the eternal
law, as we read in Proverbs: “Do not displace the ancient landmark, set up
by your ancestors.” This is not an act of wisdom, but of great injustice and
a lying excuse for plundering others. Hence every nation, no matter how
barbaric, has the right to defend itself against a more civilized one that
wants to conquer it and take away its freedom. And, moreover, it can law-
fully punish with death the more civilized as a savage and cruel aggressor
against the law of nature. And this war is certainly more just than the one
that, under pretext of wisdom, is waged against them.
Sepulveda advances another argument: The less perfect yield naturally
to the more perfect as matter does to form, body to soul, sense to reason.
I do not deny this at all. Nevertheless, this is true only when two elements
are joined by nature in first act, as when matter and the form that gives
being to the thing unite in one composite, [for example] when body and
soul are joined to each other and make an animal, and when the senses
and reason exist in the same subject. But if the perfect and the imperfect
are separated and inhere in different subjects, then imperfect things do not
yield to the more perfect, but they are not yet joined in first act.
According to this distinction, if the wise and the unwise live in one
and the same political community or under the same prince or ruler, then
the unwise ought to submit themselves willingly to the wiser man who
governs the state, for example, the king or his laws or his governors. If
they refuse to do this, it is lawful to use force against them and they can
be punished, since the law of nature demands this. On the other hand, no
free person, and much less a free people, is bound to submit to anyone,
whether king or nation, no matter how much better the latter maybe and
no matter how advantageous he may think it will be to himself [sic].
Augustine of Ancona teaches this conclusion in this very form, that is,
when the imperfect yield to the more perfect. No free nation, therefore,
can be.compelled to submit itself to a wiser one, even if such submission
could lead to [its] great advantage. When the Philosopher advances the
argument that matter yields to form, he intends to assert only that nature
has produced men fitted by an inborn talent for governing others who
have not been endowed with so great a natural ability. And so he teaches
that such wiser men are to be entrusted with the helm of government for
its preservation and welfare. Others ought to be subject to them as matter
is subject to form and the body to the soul.
Sepulveda’s final argument that everyone can be compelled, even
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 47

when unwilling, to do those things that are beneficial to him, if taken

without qualification, is false in the extreme. For Augustine, whom he
cites, is speaking of those who had promised something useful for them-
selves and did not keep their promise, with damage or injury to others.
Specifically, he is discussing heretics whom the Church compels to keep
their baptismal vows, not only because they are useful for themselves but
especially because they have promised and vowed them to God and, from
the promise, they are bound by a certain special obligation. For it would
not be enough to argue that the vows are beneficial to them. For we see
that no unbeliever is forced to receive baptism. From the teaching of the
above-mentioned Augustine the doctors conclude that one can and should
be forced to do a good he has promised, but not one he has not promised.
But many things will have to be discussed later concerning this.
There is a fourth kind of barbarian, which includes all those who do
not acknowledge Christ. For no matter how well governed a people may
be or how philosophical a man, they are subject to complete barbarism,
specifically, the barbarism of vice, if they are not imbued with the mys-
teries of Christian philosophy. Now these vices can be cleansed only by
the sacraments and the power of the \Christian law) which is the only
unspotted law that “converts souls” and frees and cleanses the hearts of
men from every vice and superstition of idolatry, from which springs the
source of all the evils that make both private and public life miserable and
unhappy. “For the beginning of immorality is in seeking idols and the cor-
ruption of life is in finding them.”
The Christian faith brings the grace of the Holy Spirit, which wipes
away all wickedness, filth, and foolishness from human hearts. This is
clear in the case of the Roman people, who sought to enact laws for all
other nations in order to dominate them and who were, at one time,
highly praised for their reputation for political skill and wisdom. Now this
people itself was ruled by heinous vices and detestable practices, espe-
cially in its shameful games and hateful sacrifices, as in the games and
plays held in the circus and in the obscene sacrifices to Priapus and Bac-
chus. In these everything was so disgraceful, ugly, and repugnant to sound
reason that they far outdistanced all other nations in insensitivity of mind
and barbarism. This is explained clearly and at length by Saint Augustine
and by Lactantius when he speaks about the religion of the Roman and
Greeks, who wanted to be considered wiser than all the other nations of
the world. He [Lactantius] writes that they habitually worshiped and
offered homage to their gods by prostituting their children in the gymnasia
so that anyone could abuse them at his pleasure. And he adds: “Is there
anything astonishing in the fact that all disgraceful practices have come
down from this people for whom these vices were religious acts, things
which not only were not avoided but were even encouraged?”
48 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

These are they who called all other nations barbarians, though no true
barbarians could do anything more absurd or foolish. Perhaps the Romans
excelled in quickness of judgment and mental expertise, so that they could
make themselves tyrants over mankind and subdue foreign territories
amid great destruction. But even if the Greeks and Romans did refrain
from these horrible crimes and foul vices, where is the credit due if not to
the splendor of the gospel, which, once it had spread throughout all the
nations of the world, came to the notice even of that [sic] ambitious
nation? Since, therefore, through their foul and corrupt way of lifeand the
other detestable acts practiced by unbelievers’ (which arise especially from
and follow on superstitious opinions about divine matters) they became
like animals, certainly anyone who has not been initiated into the Chris-
i . And so note that
the fourth kind of barbarian has been indicated.
The Turks and the Arabs are a people said to be well versed in polit-
ical affairs. But how can they be honored with this reputation for upright-
ness when they are an effeminate and luxury-loving people, given to every
sort of sexual immorality? The Turks, in particular, do not consider impure
and horrible vices worthy of punishment.
Furthermore, neither the Greeks nor the Romans nor the Turks nor the
Moors should be said to be exercising justice, since neither prudence nor
justice can be found in a people that does not recognize Christ, as Augus-
tine proves. 7%
When, therefore, those who are devoid of Christian truth have sunk
into vices and crimes and have strayed from reason in many ways, no
matter how well versed they may be in the skills of government, and cer-
er because they have not
heard ther

This is obvious from the OR of the Apostles, where, after telling about
the Apostle Paul’s shipwreck on Malta, Saint Luke adds: “The barbarians
showed us no small courtesy.” Malta is a port on the island of Lesbos,
which gave us the lyric poets Alcaeus and Sappho, as well as Pittacus
(called “the Maltese”), who was one of the seven sages of Greece, and
Theophrastus, a disciple of Aristotle. Because of this reputation it is praised
by Horace: “Others will praise famous Rhodes or Malta. Yet the Apostle
calls the people barbarians, not because they were slow witted or wild but
because they did not acknowledge Christ, although Lyra writes in this
regard that they were called barbarians because they did not know Hebrew,
Greek, or Latin. This is how Saint Jerome speaks. Speaking about bar-
barous nations, he says: “For Africa, Persia, the Orient, India, and all bar-
barous nations adore one Christ. They observe one law and rule of truth.”
Now on Good Friday the Church prays against these barbarians, who
 Bartolomé de Las Casas 49

are enemies of the Church, in these words: “Let us pray for the Most
Christian Emperor, so that our God and Lord may make all barbarian peo-
ples subject to him for our lasting peace,” and later: “May all the bar-
barian peoples who put their trust in their fierceness be restrained by the
right hand of your Sond Ch ee tp men

Ee rae meen
might abandon their idols and be converted to the one true God. And so,
a little later:

Almighty and Eternal God, you seek not the death of sinners but you
always seek that they may live; graciously accept our prayer and free
them from the worship of idols and bring them into the flock of your holy
Church, for the praise and glory of your name.

Here there is a clear recognition of some distinction among barbar-

ians, as the Church suggests in rather precise terms. Moreover, from every-
thing that was brought forth above it is clear that there are four classes of
barbarians and that the first, second,
and fourth classes are based in some
way on certain fierce practices and especially on their lack of faith, Now
the first class can include even Christian men if, in some way, they man-
ifest fierceness, wildness, savagery, and cruelty. It is on this basis that the
Spaniards who have maltreated the Indians—harmless peoples who are
far gentler than all others—with so many horrible defeats, so many .mas-
sacres, and evils worse than hell itself are barbarians and worse than bar-
barians. They also showed that they are barbarians when they insolently
took up arms and rebelled against the emperor. Now thefourth kind of

Barbarians in the strict sense of the term, however, are those about
whom we spoke in the third class, that is, those who are sunk in insensi-
tivity of mind, ignorant, irrational, lacking ability, inhuman, fierce, cor-
rupted by foul morals and unsettled by nature or by reason of their
depraved habits of sin. And about such men the Philosopher speaks in a
special way in the first book of the Politics. So let the ungodly men, and
those who have enticed Septilveda to defend an evil cause by lies, stop
citing the Philosopher in opposition to our position. They do not under-
stand or do not want to understand the distinction the Philosopher and
the holy doctors have shown in regard to barbarians. Let them take pity
on their own souls and let them pray to Christ so that falsehood may die
in them and truth live.
 p
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Sa artet Gea, hates ein.
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Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz
(1651-1695)

I:1651 Juana Ramirez de Asbaje, known to us as Sor Juana Inés de la

Cruz, was born in San Miguel Nepantla, a village south of Mexico City.
Her father died when she was a young girl, so she was raised by her wid-
owed mother. In 1660 Sor Juana was sent to Mexico City to live with her
maternal grandfather, who shared the books of his impressive library with
the young, intellectually inquisitive girl. By all accounts, the young Sor
Juana was remarkably intelligent. In 1662 she entered the court of the
viceroy’s wife and was widely admired. In 1669 she entered the Order of
the Jerdnimas. In the convent she devoted herself to study and writing,
remaining there until her death.
There has been much speculation regarding her motivation for
becoming a nun. By all accounts, there was no shortage of available and
willing suitors. Yet, for a woman of the time in New Spain (as Mexico was
then known), there was little space for her participation in intellectual life.
The convent offered a kind of refuge from society and, within its confines,
women were able, even if still within all too narrow limits, to study and
to write. Sor Juana’s mind was attracted to all areas of knowledge, ranging
from poetry and music, to science. Her room was filled with books and
her work tables covered with instruments to measure the movements of
the heavens.
Sor Juana’s writing developed through her reading of authors from the
sixteenth century; especially strong is the influence of the Spanish writers
Luis de Goéngora and Pedro Calderén de la Barca. Much of her work was
done at the request of friends or her superiors. She produced poetry,
drama, and philosophy. Her style ranged from the somber, serious tone of
certain poems, to the fun word plays typical of conceptismo and
gongorismo, which she used when writing for friends or to mask the

Dal
oy Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

meaning of her work and keep authorities at bay. Irony became a kind
of
shield used by Sor Juana to protect herself from the censure of superior
s.
Sor Juana continues to draw the attention of scholars today. Mexican
writer and Nobel laureate for literature Octavio Paz dedicated a
book and
several essays to the contributions made by Sor Juana to the develop
ment
of Mexican literature. And several contemporary feminists hail
her as a
path-breaking figure in creating an intellectual space for women.
Sor Juana
died in 1695, while tending to the victims of an epidemic in Mexico
City.
Response to Sister Filotea

X ell, and what then shall I tell you, my Lady, of the secrets of
nature that I have learned while cooking? I observe that an egg
becomes solid and cooks in butter or oil, and on the contrary that it dis-
solves in sugar syrup. Or again, to ensure that sugar flow freely one need
only add the slightest bit of water that has held quince or some other sour
fruit. The yolk and white of the very same egg are of such a contrary nature
that when eggs are used with sugar, each part separately may be used per-
fectly well, yet they cannot be mixed together. I shall not weary you with
such inanities, which I relate simply to give you a full account of my
nature, and I believe this will make you laugh. But in truth, my Lady, what
can we women know, save philosophies of the kitchen? It was well put by
Lupercio Leonardo [sic] that one can philosophize quite well while
preparing supper. I often say, when I make these little observations, “Had
Aristotle cooked, he would have written a great deal more.” And so to go
on with the mode of my cogitations: I declare that all this is so continual
in me that I have no need of books. On one occasion, because of a severe
stomach ailment, doctors forbade me to study. I spent several days in that
state, and then quickly proposed to them that it would be less harmful to
allow me my books, for my cogitations were so strenuous and vehement
that they consumed more vitality in a quarter of an hour than the reading
of books could in four days. And so the doctors were compelled to let me
read. What is more, my Lady, not even my sleep has been free of this cease-
less movement of my imagination. Rather, my mind operates in sleep still
more freely and unobstructedly, ordering with greater clarity and ease the

Reprinted from The Answer/La Respuesta, pp. 75, 77, 79, 81, 83, 85, 87, copyright © 1994 by
Electa Arenal and Amanda Powell, by permission of the Feminist Press at the City University
of New York, www.feministpress.org.

SS
54 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

events it has preserved from the day, presenting arguments and composing
verses. I could give you a very long catalogue of these, as I could of certain
reasonings and subtle turns I have reached far better in my sleep than
while awake; but I leave them out in order not to weary you. I have said
enough for your judgment and your surpassing eminence to comprehend
my nature with clarity and full understanding, together with the begin-
nings, the methods, and the present state of my studies.
If studies, my Lady, be merits (for indeed I see them extolled as such
in men), in me they are no such thing: I study because I must. If they be
a failing, I believe for the same reason that the fault is none of mine. Yet
withal, I live always so wary of myself that neither in this nor in anything
else do I trust my own judgment. And so I entrust the decision to your
supreme skill and straightway submit to whatever sentence you may pass,
posing no objection or reluctance, for this has been no more than a simple
account of my inclination to letters.
I confess also that, while in truth this inclination has been such that,
as I said before, I had no need of exemplars, nevertheless the many books
that I have read have not failed to help me, both in sacred as well as sec-
ular letters. For there I see a Deborah issuing laws, military as well as
political, and governing the people among whom there were so many
learned men. | see the exceedingly knowledgeable Queen of Sheba, so
learned she dares to test the wisdom of the wisest of all wise men with
riddles, without being rebuked for it; indeed, on this very account she is
to become judge of the unbelievers. I see so many and such significant
women: some adorned with the gift of prophecy, like an Abigail; others,
of persuasion, like Esther; others, of piety, like Rahab; others, of perse-
verance, like Anna [Hannah] the mother of Samuel; and others, infinitely
more, with other kinds of qualities and virtues.
If I consider the Gentiles, the first I meet are the Sibyls, chosen by God
to prophesy the essential mysteries of our Faith in such learned and elegant
verses that they stupefy the imagination. I see a woman such as Minerva,
daughter of great Jupiter and mistress of all the wisdom of Athens, adored
as goddess of the sciences. I see one Polla Argentaria, who helped Lucan,
her husband, to write the Battle of Pharsalia. I see the daughter of the
divine Tiresias, more learned still than her father. I see, too, such a woman
as Zenobia, queen of the Palmyrians, as wise as she was courageous.
Again, I see an Arete, daughter of Aristippus, most learned. A Nicostrata,
inventor of Latin letters and most erudite in the Greek. An Aspasia Miletia,
who taught philosophy and rhetoric and was the teacher of the philosopher
Pericles. And Hypatia, who taught astrology and lectured for many years in
Alexandria. A Leontium, who won over the philosopher Theophrastus and
proved him wrong. A Julia, a Corinna, a Cornelia; and, in sum, the vast
throng of women who merited titles and earned renown: now as Greeks,
 Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz 55

again as Muses, and yet again as Pythonesses. For what were they all but
learned women, who were considered, celebrated, and indeed venerated as
such in Antiquity? Without mentioning still others, of whom the books are
full; for I see the Egyptian Catherine, lecturing and refuting all the learning
of the most learned men of Egypt. I see a Gertrude read, write, and teach.
And seeking no more examples far from home, I see my own most holy
mother Paula, learned in the Hebrew, Greek, and Latin tongues and most
expert in the interpretation of the Scriptures. What wonder then can it be
that, though her chronicler was no less than the unequaled Jerome, the
Saint found himself scarcely worthy of the task, for with that lively gravity
and energetic effectiveness with which only he can express himself, he
says: “If all the parts of my body were tongues, they would not suffice to
proclaim the learning and virtues of Paula.” Blessilla, a widow, earned the
same praises, as did the luminous virgin Eustochium, both of them daugh-
ters of the Saint herself [Paula]; and indeed Eustochium was such that for
her knowledge she was hailed as a World Prodigy. Fabiola, also a Roman,
was another most learned in Holy Scripture. Proba Falconia, a Roman
woman, wrote an elegant book of centos, joining together verses from
Virgil, on the mysteries of our holy Faith. Our Queen Isabella, wife of
Alfonso X, is known to have written on astrology—without mentioning
others, whom I omit so as not merely to copy what others have said (which
is a vice I have always detested): Well then, in our own day there thrive
the great Christina Alexandra, Queen of Sweden, as learned as she is brave
and generous; and too those most excellent ladies, the Duchess of Aveyro
and the Countess of Villaumbrosa.
The venerable Dr. Arce (worthy professor of Scripture, known for his
virtue and learning), in his For the Scholar of the Bible, raises this question:
“Is it permissible for women to apply themselves to the study, and indeed
the interpretation, of the Holy Bible?” And in opposition he presents the
verdicts passed by many saints, particularly the words of [Paul] the
Apostle: “Let women keep silence in the churches: for it is not permitted
them to speak,” etc. Arce then presents differing verdicts, including this
passage addressed to Titus, again spoken by the Apostle: “The aged
women, in like manner, in holy attire . . . teaching well”; and he gives other
interpretations from the Fathers of the Church. Arce at last resolves, in his
prudent way, that women are not allowed to lecture publicly in the uni-
versities or to preach from the pulpits, but that studying, writing, and
teaching privately is not only permitted but most beneficial and useful to
them. Clearly, of course, he does not mean by this that all women should
do so, but only those whom God may have seen fit to endow with special
virtue and prudence, and who are very mature and erudite and possess the
necessary talents and requirements for such a sacred occupation. And so
just is this distinction that not only women, who are held to be so incom-
56 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

petent, but also men, who simply because they are men think themselves
wise, are to be prohibited from the interpretation of the Sacred Word, save
when they are most learned, virtuous, of amenable intellect and inclined
to the good. For when the reverse is true, I believe, numerous sectarians
are produced, and this has given rise to numerous heresies. For there are
many who study only to become ignorant, especially those of arrogant,
restless, and prideful spirits, fond of innovations in the Law (the very thing
that rejects all innovation). And so they are not content until for the sake
of saying what no one before them has said, they speak heresy. Of such
men as these the Holy Spirit says: “For wisdom will not enter into a mali-
cious soul.” For them, more harmis worked by knowledge than by igno-
rance. A wit once observed that he who knows no Latin is not an utter fool,
but he who does know it has met the prerequisites. And I might add that
he is made a perfect fool (if foolishness can attain perfection) by having
studied his bit of philosophy and theology and by knowing something of
languages. For with that he can be foolish in several sciences and tongues;
a great fool cannot be contained in his mother tongue alone.
To such men, I repeat, study does harm, because it is like putting a
sword in the hands of a madman: though the sword be the noblest of
instruments for defense, in his hands it becomes his own death and that
of many others. This is what the Divine Letters became in the hands of
that wicked Pelagius and of the perverse Arius, of that wicked Luther, and
all the other heretics, like our own Dr. Cazalla (who was never either our
own nor a doctor). Learning harmed them all, though it can be the best
nourishment and life for the soul. For just as an infirm stomach, suffering
from diminished heat, produces more bitter, putrid, and perverse humors
the better the food that it is given, so too these evil persons give rise to
worse opinions the more they study. Their understanding is obstructed by
the very thing that should nourish it, and the fact is they study a great deal
and digest very little, failing to measure their efforts to the narrow vessel
of their understanding. In this regard the Apostle has said: “For I say, by
the grace that is given me, to all that are among you, not to be more wise
than it behoveth to be wise, but to be wise unto sobriety, and according
as God hath divided to every one the measure of faith.” And in truth the
Apostle said this not to women but to men, and the “Let [them] keep
silence” was meant not only for women, but for all those who are not very
competent. If I wish to know as much as or more than Aristotle or St.
Augustine, but I lack the ability of a St. Augustine or an Aristotle, then I
may study more than both of them together, but I shall not only fail to
reach my goal: I shall weaken and stupefy the workings of my feeble
understanding with such a disproportionate aim.
Oh, that all men—and I, who am but an ignorant woman, first of all—
might take the measure of our abilities before setting out to study and,
 Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz 57

what is worse, to write, in our jealous aspiration to equal and even sur-
pass others. How little boldness would we summon, how many errors
might we avoid, and how many distorted interpretations now noised
abroad should be noised no further! And I place my own before all others,
for if I knew all that I ought, I would not so much as write these words.
Yet I protest that I do so only to obey you; and with such misgiving that
you owe me more for taking up my pen with all this fear than you would
Owe me were | to present you with the most perfect works. But withal, it
is well that this goes to meet with your correction: erase it, tear it up, and
chastise me, for I shall value that more than all the vain applause others
could give me. “The just man shall correct me in mercy, and shall reprove
me: but let not the oil of the sinner fatten my head.”
And returning to our own Arce, I observe that in support of his views
he presents these words of my father St. Jerome (in the letter To Leta, on
the Education of Her Daughter), where he says: “{Her] childish tongue
must be imbued with the sweet music of the Psalms. ... The very words
from which she will get into the way of forming sentences should not be
taken at haphazard but be definitely chosen and arranged on purpose. For
example, let her have the names of the prophets and the apostles, and the
whole list of patriarchs from Adam downwards, as Matthew and Luke give
it. She will then be doing two things at the same time, and will remember
them afterwards. ...Let her every day repeat to you a portion of the
Scriptures as her fixed task.” Very well, if the Saint wished a little girl,
scarcely beginning to speak, to be instructed thus, what must he desire for
his nuns and spiritual daughters? We see this most clearly in the women
already mentioned—Eustochium and Fabiola—and also in Marcella, the
latter’s sister; in Pacatula, and in other women whom the Saint honors in
his epistles, urging them on in this holy exercise. This appears in the letter
already cited, where I noted the words “let her repeat to you...” which
serve to reclaim and confirm St. Paul’s description, “teaching well.” For
the “let her repeat the task to you” of my great Father makes clear that the
little girl’s teacher must be Leta herself, the girl’s mother.
Oh, how many abuses would be avoided in our land if the older
women were as well instructed as Leta and knew how to teach as is com-
manded by St. Paul and my father St. Jerome! Instead, for lack of such
learning and through the extreme feebleness in which they are determined
to maintain our poor women, if any parents then wish to give their daugh-
ters more extensive Christian instruction than is usual, necessity and the
lack of learned older women oblige them to employ men as instructors to
teach reading and writing, numbers and music, and other skills. This
leads to considerable harm, which occurs every day in doleful instances
of these unsuitable associations. For the immediacy of such contact and
the passage of time all too frequently allow what seemed impossible to be
58 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

accomplished quite easily. For this reason, many parents prefer to let their
daughters remain uncivilized and untutored, rather than risk exposing
them to such notorious peril as this familiarity with men. Yet all this could
be avoided if there were old women of sound education, as St. Paul
desires, so that instruction could be passed from the old to the young just
as is done with sewing and all the customary skills.
For what impropriety can there be if an older woman, learned in let-
ters and holy conversation and customs, should have in her charge the
education of young maids? Better so than to let these young girls go to
perdition, either for lack of any Christian teaching or because one tries to
impart it through such dangerous means as male teachers. For if there
were no greater risk than the simple indecency of seating a completely
unknown man at the side of a bashful woman (who blushes if her own
father should look her straight in the face), allowing him to address her
with household familiarity and to speak to her with intimate authority,
even so the modesty demanded in interchange with men and in conver-
sation with them gives sufficient cause to forbid this. Indeed, I do not see
how the custom of men as teachers of women can be without its dangers,
save only in the strict tribunal of the confessional, or the distant teachings
of the pulpit, or the remote wisdom of books; but never in the repeated
handling that occurs in such immediate and tarnishing contact. And
everyone knows this to be true. Nevertheless, it is permitted for no better
reason than the lack of learned older women; therefore, it does great harm
not to have them. This point should be taken into account by those who,
tied to the “Let women keep silence in the churches,” curse the idea that
women should acquire knowledge and teach, as if it were not the Apostle
himself who described them “teaching well.” Furthermore, that prohibi-
tion applied to the case related by Eusebius: to wit, that in the early
Church, women were set to teaching each other Christian doctrine in the
temples. The murmur of their voices caused confusion when the apostles
were preaching, and that is why they were told to be silent. Just so, we
see today that when the preacher is preaching, no one prays aloud.
 Poem 92, Philosophical Satire
ou foolish and unreasoning men
who cast all blame on women,
not seeing you yourselves are cause
of the same faults you accuse:
‘if, with eagerness unequaled,
you plead against women’s disdain,
why require them to do well
_when you inspire them to fall?
You combat their firm resistance,
and then solemnly pronounce
that what you’ve won through diligence
is proof of women’s flightiness.
What do we see, when we see you
madly determined to see us so,
but the child who makes a monster appear
and then goes trembling with fear?
With ridiculous conceit
you insist that woman be
a sultry Thais while you woo her;
a true Lucretia once she’s won.

Whose behavior could be odder

than that of a stubborn man
ho himself breathes on the mirror,
nd then laments it is not clear?

aw YS «** {Women’s good favor, women’s scorn

4 ® A :
oe ‘you hold in equal disregard:
Ye complaining, if they treat you badly;
- mocking, if they love you well.
Not one can gain your good opinion,
for she who modestly withdraws
and fails to admit you is ungrateful;
yet if she admits you, too easily won.

Reprinted from The Answer/La Respuesta, pp. 157, 159, copyright © 1994 by Electa Arenal
and Amanda Powell, by permission of the Feminist Press at the City University of New York,
www.feministpress.org.
ee)
Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

So downright foolish are you all

that your injurious justice claims
to blame one woman’s cruelty
and fault the other’s laxity.
How then can she be moderate
to whom your suit aspires,
if, ingrate, she makes you displeased,
or, easy, prompts your ire?
Between such ire and such anguish
—the tales your fancy tells—
lucky is she who does not love you;
complain then, as you will!
Your doting anguish feathers the wings
of liberties that women take,
and once you’ve caused them to be bad,
you want to find them as good as saints.
But who has carried greater blame
in a passion gone astray:
she who falls to constant pleading,
or he who pleads with her to fall?
Or which more greatly must be faulted,
though either may commit a wrong:
she who sins for need of payment,
or he who pays for his enjoyment?
=
' Why then are you so alarmed
by the fault that is your own?
} Wish women to be what you make them,
' or make them what you wish they were.
Leave off soliciting her fall
and then indeed, more justified,
that eagerness you might accuse
of the woman who besieges you.
Thus I prove with all my forces
the ways your arrogance does battle:
for in your offers and your demands
we have devil, flesh, and world: a man.
Simon Bolivar
(1783-1830)

Se Bolivar is one of the most important figures in the history of

Latin America, both as a thinker and as a man of action. Born in
Caracas, Venezuela, in 1783 to a wealthy family, he was orphaned at the
young age of nine. Subsequently, he was raised by his maternal grand-
parents. He received a European education at home by private tutors and
was familiar with the liberal and republican ideals of the French Enlight-
enment. Andrés Bello (1781-1865), one of Venezuela’s most important
intellectual figures, was Bolivar’s tutor.
In 1799, with the death of his grandfather, Bolivar was sent to Spain
and France to continue his studies. He returned briefly to Caracas and
then, in 1803, traveled to Paris, where the revolutionary zeal of the city
influenced him. On August 15, 1805, Bolivar is said to have announced in
Rome that he would devote his life to the cause of independence. Before
returning to Caracas in June of 1806, Bolivar made a brief visit to the
United States, which served to invigorate his revolutionary goals.
Napoleon’s invasion of Spain in 1808 opened a space for the young revo-
lutionaries of Venezuela, who used the instability of the Spanish Crown to
move from ideas of a revolution to the first steps toward its realization.
This revolutionary action led to Bolivar’s imprisonment in 1808 and
marked his official public entry onto the political stage.
In Venezuela, Bolivar worked as a diplomat, a statesman, and then, in
his most important role, as a general in the revolutionary army that ulti-
mately defeated the royalist Spanish troops and led to the establishment
of the countries known today as Venezuela, Colombia, Ecuador, Peru,
Bolivia, and Panama. Because of his pivotal and leading role in the inde-
pendence movement, Bolivar is known as “el Libertador” (the Liberator).
Between 1817 and 1826 Bolivar fought tirelessly to free and maintain the

61
62 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

independence of most of South America. He led the Viceroyalties of New

Granada (which had Bogota as its capital and consisted of present-day
Colombia, Venezuela, Panama, and Ecuador) and Peru to independence.
He then established present-day Bolivia (named after him), by separating
Alto Peru from the rest of Peru and proclaiming it a separate territory.
Bolivar is the undisputed hero of the independence movements in
Latin America and is respected as a great military genius. In 1819 he
became the president of Gran Colombia. His dream was the establishment
of a continental union. Yet, this plan never reached fruition and all
attempts in the direction of unifying the newly independent regions were
futile, leading Bolivar to believe that the project was impossible. As all
hope of Pan-Americanism withered, Bolivar himself became disillusioned,
claiming that “America is ungovernable. Those who served the revolution
plowed the sea.” He died in Colombia, of tuberculosis, in 1830.
Jamaica Letter

REPLY OF A SOUTH AMERICAN TO A GENTLEMAN OF THIS

ISLAND [JAMAICA]

[Blanco y Aspurtia, V, 331-342]

Kingston, Jamaica, September 6, 1815.

My dear Sir:

Jose to reply to the letter of the 29th ultimo which you had the honor
of sending me and which I received with the greatest satisfaction.
Sensible though I am of the interest you desire to take in the fate of my
country, and of your commiseration with her for the tortures she has suf-
fered from the time of her discovery until the present at the hands of her
destroyers, the Spaniards, I am no less sensible of the obligation which
your solicitous inquiries about the principal objects of American policy
place upon me. Thus, I find myself in conflict between the desire to recip-
rocate your confidence, which honors me, and the difficulty of rewarding
it, for lack of documents and books and because of my own limited knowl-
edge of a land so vast, so varied, and so little known as the New World.
In my opinion it is impossible to answer the questions that you have
so kindly posed. Baron von Humboldt himself, with his encyclopedic the-
oretical and practical knowledge, could hardly do so properly, because,
although some of the facts about America and her development are known,
I dare say the better part are shrouded in mystery. Accordingly, only con-

From “Reply of a South American to a Gentleman of This Island [Jamaica],” trans. Lewis
Bertrand, published by Banco de Venezuela (New York: Colonial Press, 1951), pp. 103-105,
109-11.

63
64 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

jectures that are more or less approximate can be made, especially with
regard to her future and the true plans of the Americans, inasmuch as our
continent has within it potentialities for every facet of development
revealed in the history of nations, by reason of its physical characteristics
and because of the hazards of war and the uncertainties of politics.
As I feel obligated to give due consideration to your esteemed letter
and to the philanthropic intentions prompting it, I am impelled to write
you these words, wherein you will certainly not find the brilliant thoughts
you seek but rather a candid statement of my ideas.
“Three centuries ago,” you say, “began the atrocities committed by
the Spaniards on this great hemisphere of Columbus.” Our age has
rejected these atrocities as mythical, because they appear to be beyond the
human capacity for evil. Modern critics would never credit them were it
not for the many and frequent documents testifying to these horrible
truths. The humane Bishop of Chiapas, that apostle of America, Las Casas,
has left to posterity a brief description of these horrors, extracted from the
trial records in Sevilla relating to the cases brought against the conquista-
dores, and containing the testimony of every respectable person then in
the New World, together with the charges [procesos], which the tyrants
made against each other. All this is attested by the foremost historians of
that time. Every impartial person has admitted the zeal, sincerity, and high
character of that friend of humanity, who so fervently and so steadfastly
denounced to his government and to his contemporaries the most horrible
acts of sanguinary frenzy.
With what a feeling of gratitude I read that passage in your letter in
which you say to me: “I hope that the success which then followed
Spanish arms may now turn in favor of their adversaries, the badly
oppressed people of South America.” I take this hope as a prediction, if it
is justice that determines man’s contests. Success will crown our efforts,
because the destiny of America has been irrevocably decided; the tie that
bound her to Spain has been severed. Only a concept maintained that tie
and kept the parts of that immense monarchy together. That which for-
merly bound them now divides them. The hatred that the Peninsula has
inspired in us is greater than the ocean between us. It would be easier to
have the two continents meet than to reconcile the spirits of the two coun-
tries. The habit of obedience; a community of interest, of understanding,
of religion; mutual goodwill; a tender regard for the birthplace and good
name of our forefathers; in short, all that gave rise to our hopes, came to
us from Spain. As a result there was born a principle of affinity that
seemed eternal, notwithstanding the misbehavior of our rulers which
weakened that sympathy, or, rather, that bond enforced by the domination
of their rule. At present the contrary attitude persists: we are threatened
with the fear of death, dishonor, and every harm; there is nothing we have
 Stmon Boltvar 65

not suffered at the hands of that unnatural step-mother—Spain. The veil

has been torn asunder. We have already seen the light, and it is not our
desire to be thrust back into darkness. The chains have been broken; we
have been freed, and now our enemies seek to enslave us anew. For this
reason America fights desperately, and seldom has desperation failed to
achieve victory.
Because successes have been partial and spasmodic, we must not lose
faith. In some regions the Independents triumph, while in others the
tyrants have the advantage. What is the end result? Is not the entire New
World in motion, armed for defense? We have but to look around us on
this hemisphere to witness a simultaneous struggle at every point... .
I have listed the population, which is based on more or less exact
data, but which a thousand circumstances render deceiving. This inaccu-
racy cannot easily be remedied, because most of the inhabitants live in
rural areas and are often nomadic; they are farmers, herders, and
migrants, lost amidst thick giant forests, solitary plains, and isolated by
lakes and mighty streams. Who is capable of compiling complete statistics
of a land like this? Moreover, the tribute paid by the Indians, the punish-
ments of the slaves, the first fruits of the harvest [primicias], tithes
[diezmas], and taxes levied on farmers, and other impositions have driven
the poor Americans from their homes. This is not to mention the war of
extermination that has already taken a toll of nearly an eighth part of the
population and frightened another large part away. All in all, the difficul-
ties are insuperable, and the tally is likely to show only half the true count.
It is even more difficult to foresee the future fate of the New World,
to set down its political principles, or to prophesy what manner of gov-
ernment it will adopt. Every conjecture relative to America’s future is, I
feel, pure speculation. When mankind was in its infancy, steeped in
uncertainty, ignorance, and error, was it possible to foresee what system
it would adopt for its preservation? Who could venture to say that a cer-
tain nation would be a republic or a monarchy; this nation great, that
nation small? To my way of thinking, such is our own situation. We are a
young people. We inhabit a world apart, separated by broad seas. We are
young in the ways of almost all the arts and sciences, although, in a cer-
tain manner, we are old in the ways of civilized society. I look upon the
present state of America as similar to that of Rome after its fall. Each part
of Rome adopted a political system conforming to its interest and situation
or was led by the individual ambitions of certain chiefs, dynasties, or asso-
ciations. But this important difference exists: those dispersed parts later
reestablished their ancient nations, subject to the changes imposed by cir-
cumstances or events. But we scarcely retain a vestige of what once was;
we are, moreover, neither Indian nor European, but a species midway
between the legitimate proprietors of this country and the Spanish
66 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

usurpers. In short, though Americans by birth we derive our rights from

Europe, and we have to assert these rights against the rights of the natives,
and at the same time we must defend ourselves against the invaders. This
places us in a most extraordinary and involved situation. Notwithstanding
that it is a type of divination to predict the result of the political course
which America is pursuing, I shall venture some conjectures which, of
course, are colored by my enthusiasm and dictated by rational desires
rather than by reasoned calculations.
The role of the inhabitants of the American hemisphere has for cen-
turies been purely passive. Politically they were nonexistent. We are still
in a position lower than slavery, and therefore it is more difficult for us to
rise to the enjoyment of freedom. Permit me these transgressions in order
to establish the issue. States are slaves because of either the nature or the
misuse of their constitutions; a people is therefore enslaved when the gov-
ernment, by its nature or its vices, infringes on and usurps the rights of
the citizen or subject. Applying these principles, we find that America was
denied not only its freedom but even an active and effective tyranny. Let
me explain. Under absolutism there are no recognized limits to the exer-
cise of governmental powers. The will of the great sultan, khan, bey, and
other despotic rulers is the supreme law, carried out more or less arbi-
trarily by the lesser pashas, khans, and satraps of Turkey and Persia, who
have an organized system of oppression in which inferiors participate
according to the authority vested in them. To them is entrusted the admin-
istration of civil, military, political, religious, and tax matters. But, after all
is said and done, the rulers of Ispahan are Persians; the viziers of the
Grand Turk are Turks; and the sultans of Tartary are Tartars. China does
not bring its military leaders and scholars from the land of Genghis Khan,
her conqueror, notwithstanding that the Chinese of today are the lineal
descendants of those who were reduced to subjection by the ancestors of
the present-day Tartars.
How different is our situation! We have been harassed by a conduct
which has not only deprived us of our rights but has kept us in a sort of
permanent infancy with regard to public affairs. If we could at least have
managed our domestic affairs and our internal administration, we could
have acquainted ourselves with the processes and mechanics of public
affairs. We should also have enjoyed a personal consideration, thereby
commanding a certain unconscious respect from the people, which is so
necessary to preserve amidst revolutions. That is why I say we have even
been deprived of an active tyranny, since we have not been permitted to
exercise its functions.
Address Delivered at the
Inauguration of the Second
National Congress of
Venezuela at Angostura
Angostura, February 15, 1819.

Gentlemen:

P orsnaeis the citizen, who, under the emblem of his command, has
convoked this assembly of the national sovereignty so that it may
exercise its absolute will! I, therefore, place myself among those most
favored by Divine Providence, for I have had the honor of uniting the rep-
resentatives of the people of Venezuela in this august Congress, the source
of legitimate authority, the custodian of the sovereign will, and the arbiter
of the Nation’s destiny.
In returning to the representatives of the people the Supreme Power
which was entrusted to me, | gratify not only my own innermost desires
but also those of my fellow-citizens and of future generations, who trust
to your wisdom, rectitude, and prudence in all things. Upon the fulfillment
of this grateful obligation, I shall be released from the immense authority
with which I have been burdened and from the unlimited responsibility
which has weighed so heavily upon my slender resources. Only the force
of necessity, coupled with the imperious will of the peopie, compelled me
to assume the fearful and dangerous post of Dictator and Supreme Chief
of the Republic. But now I can breathe more freely, for I am returning to
you this authority which I have succeeded in maintaining at the price of
so much danger, hardship, and suffering, amidst the worst tribulations
suffered by any society.

From “Address Delivered at the Inauguration of the Second National Congress of Venezuela
at Angostura,” trans. Lewis Bertrand, Banco de Venezuela (New York: Colonial Press, 1951),
pp. 173-77, 182-83, 191-92.

67
68 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

The period in the history of the Republic over which I presided was
not one of mere political storm; nor was it simply a bloody war or merely
popular anarchy. It was, indeed, the culmination of every disruptive force.
It was the flood-tide of a devastating torrent which overran the good earth
of Venezuela. What barriers could one man—a man such as myself—erect
to stay the onrush of such devastation? In the midst of that sea of trou-
bles, I was but a mere plaything in the hurricane of revolution that tossed
me about like so much straw. I could do neither good nor evil. Irresistible
forces directed the course of our events. To attribute these forces to me
would not be just, for it would place upon me an importance that I do not
merit. Do you wish to know who is responsible for the events of the past
and the present? Consult the annals of Spain, of America, and of
Venezuela; examine the Laws of the Indies, the one-time system of man-
datarios, the influence of religion and of foreign rule; observe the first acts
of the republican government, the ferocity of our enemies, and our
national character. Do not question me about the effects of these ever-to-
be-lamented catastrophes; for I am but a simple instrument of the great
driving forces that have left their mark on Venezuela. Nevertheless, my
life, my conduct, my every public and private action—all are subject to
public censure. Representatives! You must judge my actions. I submit the
record of my rule for your impartial verdict: I shall add nothing in its favor,
for I have already said all that can be said in my behalf. If I obtain your
approbation, I shall have achieved the sublime title of Good Citizen,
which I prefer to that of Liberator given me by Venezuela, or that of Paci-
ficator accorded me by Cundinamarca, or to any title the world at large
might confer upon me.
Legislators! I deliver into your hands the supreme rule of Venezuela.
Yours is now the august duty of consecrating yourselves to the achieve-
ment of felicity of the Republic; your hands hold the scales of our destiny,
the measure of our glory. They shall seal the decrees that will insure our
liberty. At this moment the Supreme Chief of the Republic is no more than
just a plain citizen, and such he wishes to remain until his death. I shall,
however, serve as a soldier so long as any foe remains in Venezuela. Our
country has a multitude of worthy sons who are capable of directing her
progress. Talent, virtue, experience, and all else needed to command free
men are the heritage of many who represent the people here; and outside
this Sovereign Body there are citizens who at all times have shown
courage in facing danger, prudence in avoiding it, and the ability, more-
over, to govern themselves and others. These illustrious men will
undoubtedly deserve the support of the Congress, and they will be
entrusted with the government which I now so sincerely and gladly relin-
quish forever.
The continuance of authority in the same individual has frequently
 Simon Boltvar 69

meant the end of democratic governments. Repeated elections are essen-

tial in popular systems of government, for nothing is more perilous than
to permit one citizen to retain power for an extended period. The people
become accustomed to obeying him, and he forms the habit of com-
manding them; herein lie the origins of usurpation and tyranny. A just
zeal is the guarantee of republican liberty. Our citizens must with good
reason learn to fear lest the magistrate who has governed them long will
govern them forever.
Since, therefore, by this profession of mine in support of Venezuela’s
freedom I may aspire to the glory of being reckoned among her most
faithful sons, allow me, Gentlemen, to expound, with the frankness of a
true republican, my respectful opinion on a Plan of a Constitution, which
I take the liberty of submitting to you as testimony of the candor and sin-
cerity of my sentiments. As this plan concerns the welfare of all, I venture
to assume that I have the right to be heard by the representatives of the
people. I well know that your wisdom needs no counsel, and I know also
that my plan may perhaps appear to be mistaken and impracticable. But I
implore you, Gentlemen, receive this work with benevolence, for it is more
a tribute of my sincere deference to the Congress than an act of presump-
tion. Moreover, as your function is to create a body politic, or, it might be
said, to create an entire society while surrounded by every obstacle that a
most peculiar and difficult situation can present, perhaps the voice of one
citizen may reveal the presence of a hidden or unknown danger.
Let us review the past to discover the base upon which the Republic
of Venezuela is founded.
America, in separating from the Spanish monarchy, found herself in a
situation similar to that of the Roman Empire when its enormous frame-
work fell to pieces in the midst of the ancient world. Each Roman division
then formed an independent nation in keeping with its location or inter-
ests; but this situation differed from America’s in that those members pro-
ceeded to reestablish their former associations. We, on the contrary, do
not even retain the vestiges of our original being. We are not Europeans;
we are not Indians; we are but a mixed species of aborigines and
Spaniards. Americans by birth and Europeans by law, we find ourselves
engaged in a dual conflict: we are disputing with the natives for titles of
ownership, and at the same time we are struggling to maintain ourselves
in the country that gave us birth against the opposition of the invaders.
Thus our position is most extraordinary and complicated. But there is
more. As our role has always been strictly passive and our political exis-
tence nil, we find that our quest for liberty is now even more difficult of
accomplishment; for we, having been placed in a state lower than slavery,
had been robbed not only of our freedom but also of the right to exercise
an active domestic tyranny... .
70 Part I: Colonial Beginnings and Independence

Subject to the threefold yoke of ignorance, tyranny, and vice, the Amer-
ican people have been unable to acquire knowledge, power, or [civic]
virtue. The lessons we received and the models we studied, as pupils of
such pernicious teachers, were most destructive. We have been ruled more
by deceit than by force, and we have been degraded more by vice than by
superstition. Slavery is the daughter of Darkness: an ignorant people is a
blind instrument of its own destruction. Ambition and intrigue abuse the
credulity and experience of men lacking all political, economic, and civic
knowledge; they adopt pure illusion as reality; they take license for liberty,
treachery for patriotism, and vengeance for justice. This situation is similar
to that of the robust blind man who, beguiled by his strength, strides for-
ward with all the assurance of one who can see, but, upon hitting every
variety of obstacle, finds himself unable to retrace his steps.
If a people, perverted by their training, succeed in achieving their lib-
erty, they will soon lose it, for it would be of no avail to endeavor to
explain to them that happiness consists in the practice of virtue; that the
rule of law is more powerful than the rule of tyrants, because, as the laws
are more inflexible, everyone should submit to their beneficent austerity;
that proper morals, and not force, are the bases of law; and that to prac-
tice justice is to practice liberty. Therefore, Legislators, your work is so
much the more arduous, inasmuch as you have to reeducate men who
have been corrupted by erroneous illusions and false incentives. Liberty,
says Rousseau, is a succulent morsel, but one difficult to digest. Our weak
fellow-citizens will have to strengthen their spirit greatly before they can
digest the wholesome nutriment of freedom. Their limbs benumbed by
chains, their sight dimmed by the darkness of dungeons, and their
strength sapped by the pestilence of servitude, are they capable of
marching toward the august temple of Liberty without faltering? Can they
come near enough to bask in its brilliant rays and to breathe freely the
pure air which reigns therein?
Legislators, meditate well before you choose. Forget not that you are
to lay the political foundation for a newly born nation which can rise to
the heights of greatness that Nature has marked out for it if you but pro-
portion this foundation in keeping with the high plane that it aspires to
attain. Unless your choice is based upon the peculiar tutelary experience
of the Venezuelan people—a factor that should guide you in determining
the nature and form of government you are about to adopt for the well-
being of the people—and, I repeat, unless you happen upon the right type
of government, the result of our reforms will again be slavery. . . .
Having dealt with justice and humanity, let us now give attention to
politics and society, and let us resolve the difficulties inherent in a system
so simple and natural, yet so weak that the slightest obstacle can upset
and destroy it. The diversity of racial origin will require an infinitely firm
 Stmon Boltvar 71

hand and great tactfulness in order to manage this heterogeneous society,

whose complicated mechanism is easily damaged, separated, and disinte-
grated by the slightest controversy.
The most perfect system of government is that which results in the
greatest possible measure of happiness and the maximum of social secu-
rity [seguridad social] and political stability. The laws enacted by the first
Congress gave us reason to hope that happiness would be the lot of
Venezuela; and, through your laws, we must hope that security and sta-
bility will perpetuate this happiness. You must solve the problem. But
how, having broken all the shackles of our former oppression, can we
accomplish the enormous task of preventing the remnants of our past fet-
ters from becoming liberty-destroying weapons? The vestiges of Spanish
domination will long be with us before we can completely eradicate them:
the contagion of despotism infests the atmosphere about us, and neither
the fires of war nor the healing properties of our salutary laws have puri-
fied the air we breathe. Our hands are now free, but our hearts still suffer
the ills of slavery. When man loses freedom, said Homer, he loses half his
Spirit... <:..
... Unless there is a sacred reverence for country, laws, and authority,
society becomes confused, an abyss—an endless conflict of man versus
man, group versus group.
All our moral powers will not suffice to save our infant republic from
this chaos unless we fuse the mass of the people, the government, the leg-
islation, and the national spirit into a single united body. Unity, unity,
unity must be our motto in all things. The blood of our citizens is varied:
let it be mixed for the sake of unity. Our Constitution has divided the
powers of government: let them be bound together to secure unity. Our
laws are but a sad relic of ancient and modern despotism. Let this mon-
strous edifice crumble and fall; and, having removed even its ruins, let us
erect a temple to Justice; and, guided by its sacred inspiration, let us write
a code of Venezuelan laws.
 PART II
Philosophical
Anthropology
Introduction

THE ANTHROPOLOGICAL ISSUE

\\) estern philosophy has always struggled with the concept of

humanity, but it was only toward the latter part of the nine-
teenth century and the beginning of the twentieth that this issue came to
a prominent position in philosophical thought. The latter part of this
period, extending into the twenty-first century, is the primary focus of Part
II of this collection of readings, and it seeks to provide a general overview
of the way the anthropological issue has been confronted by Latin Amer-
ican philosophers.
The most striking characteristic of philosophical anthropology as
encountered in Latin American thought is the variety of the approaches
used in it. In contrast to the precision and the well-defined boundaries
within which the problem of value is formulated (see the introduction to
Part ])—with focus on the conflict between axiological objectivism and
subjectivism—philosophical anthropology is approached in a multifac-
eted, complex manner. Positivists at the end of the nineteenth century and
throughout the twentieth were concerned with the psychological descrip-
tion of humans in order to resolve the mind-body problem; neo-scholas-
tics concentrated their efforts on the investigation of the universal and
eternal essence of human beings; philosophers who were influenced by
Bergson’s vitalism (such as Antonio Caso, Vasconcelos, and Farias Brito)
and by recently imported German ideas attempted to formulate a new
interpretation of what is intrinsically human; whereas the existentialists
denied any possibility of an essential definition, giving preference to an
existential humanism. This pluralism is the reflection of the many facets
assumed in European anthropological discussions, and it also stems from

iiss
76 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

the inherent ambiguity of the question that anthropological speculation

seeks to answer, namely, “What does it mean to be a human being?”
The way in which this question is interpreted and the context in
which it is raised seriously affect the nature of the answer. There are at
least four separate problems to which the question can be taken to refer:
the ontological problem of the status of human beings, the metaphysical
problem of what constitutes the essence of human beings, the epistemo-
logical problem of what one knows as human, and the cosmo-ethical
problem of the place of humans in the universe. Different philosophical
traditions have approached the question of the human condition in
keeping with their understanding of the context within which it is formu-
lated. Scholasticism, whether colonial or contemporary, Latin American
positivism—a mixture of naturalism, Comtism, and scientism—as well as
most other traditional perspectives insist, although for different reasons,
that the discussion of the ontological status of humans remain at the
center of philosophical anthropology. Marxist and existentialist philoso-
phers, however, engage in a well-defined attempt to clarify the metaphys-
ical problem of the essence of human beings, whereas the vitalism of
French origin and the German philosophy of the spirit, so popular in Latin
America during the first half of the twentieth century, direct their principal
efforts to the reinterpretation of the specific dimension that separates
humans from the rest of the universe. All of them, moreover, give special
attention to the cosmo-ethical consequences of their respective solutions,
often announcing a new era of genuine humanism.
It must be pointed out, however, that in spite of the preference for
approaching the anthropological question with a given emphasis, most of
these philosophical perspectives have also developed views about its other
dimensions. Each concentrates on a specific aspect of the problem, and
the implications with respect to the other aspects are often less fruitfully
and profoundly explored. That is to say, all of these positions, explicitly or
implicitly, contain ontological, metaphysical, epistemological, and cosmo-
ethical dimensions, although usually one of them dominates as a thematic
center of gravity.
The ability of a philosopher or of a philosophical view to recognize
the implications and interrelationships of each of these aspects of the
anthropological question with respect to the others provides a criterion for
determining the degree of originality and value of its contributions to
philosophical anthropology. The more restricted the orientation, the more
restricted is the contribution and the less valuable the solution offered.
And, by the same token, the more each of these aspects is explored and
proper attention given to its relations with the others, the more profound
and lasting is the theory.
 Introduction 77

DIMENSIONS OF THE PROBLEM

The indispensable prerequisite for any philosophical anthropology, as has

been pointed out by Frondizi in the preface to El yo como estructura
dindmica,' is a theory of the self or, in keeping with the terminology used
here, a solution to the problem of the nature and the ontological status of
the conscious center of the human being. All major philosophers (Aris-
totle, Descartes, Hume, and others) have recognized the importance of the
ontology of the self and thus have begun their anthropological discussion
at this point. When we ask “What is a human being?” our answer must
begin with an examination of the kind of being humans are and especially
of the core, i.e., the self, that constitutes the basis for distinguishing
humans from the rest of nature. Such a concern does not seek to set
humans apart from the rest of the universe in our understanding, since it
is not looking for criteria that would serve to help us distinguish humans
from other things. The latter type of emphasis focuses on what we here
refer to as “the epistemological aspect” of the problem. What is sought at
this point is to classify humans, and particularly the self, within the onto-
logical categories of reality. The question is whether the self exists and, if
so, how it exists, not primarily what and how I know it.
Philosophical anthropology in Latin America was shaped by a posi-
tivist approach to this cluster of issues concerning the self and its exis-
tence. The most direct expression of this approach led thinkers to claim
that the self was an epiphenomenon of matter. With the dismantling of
positivism and the vitalist-spiritualist reaction to it that emerged in the
second half of the twentieth century, diverse theories concerning the self
emerged. For the most part these theories reflected a partial return to an
ontologically autonomous concept of the self in which the self regains
some of the attributes lost in late nineteenth-century scientism. With the
exception of neo-scholastic developments, however, this tendency stopped
short of substantialism. The new theories use the dynamic terminology of
function, activity, and structure rather than that of substance.
The problem of human essence is perhaps the second most important
problem in philosophical anthropology. This issue has two clearly distin-
guishable aspects, each of which has important implications. Although
the ‘what is’ of humans is no longer interpreted as a ‘whether it is’ or
‘how it is’, but rather in the sense that is appropriate to the question to be
answered by a definition of the essence, this “what is’ opens up into an
initial introductory moment in which one investigates if humans have an
essence in order then to understand what the essence is. The first corre-
sponds to what we have called the metaphysical aspect of the issue and
the second to its epistemological aspect. The metaphysical problem is sim-
78 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

ilar to that of the ontological status of the human being already consid-
ered, but in this case it refers to an abstract rather than a concrete reality.
As is to be expected, this issue follows a development parallel to that
of the ontological question in the history of Western philosophy. It begins
with the essentialist perspective of the Greeks in which the particular and
mutable human being is subordinated to its universal and immutable
essence. This extreme position, taken by Western philosophy in its initial
stages, begins to weaken with the growing awareness of the reality of con-
crete existence. The doctrine that gives it the final blow is the Hegelian
identification of the essence of humans with their activity. Owing to this
development, it is possible to conclude that the essence of humans is not
some immutable universal but rather that it depends upon what humans
do. In short, humans create themselves.
Nevertheless, in the nineteenth century the identification of humans
with what they would make of themselves is not complete and therefore
the human essence is not thought to be completely determined by human
activity. The homo faber of the 1880s still has an essence, albeit one that
is dependent upon a particular type of activity—work in Marx and the
libido in Freud—but nevertheless an essence. Only in twentieth-century
existentialism does the eroding effect of a radical nonessentialism that
denies every essence to humans come full cycle, identifying humans com-
pletely with their particular existence and activity. This trend has con-
tinued, gathering force as philosophers pay increasing attention to the
identities of groups, favoring a definition of humans in terms of ethnici-
ties and races rather than in terms of universal humanity. (For more on
this, see the selections from Alcoff and Schutte in Part IV.)
As these intellectual developments reached Latin America, they were
incorporated into its thought and guided it toward an understanding of
human essence as active and dynamic. The concrete human being takes
the place of the abstract human and hence human essence is conceived as
created in particular circumstances and oriented toward a future. Never-
theless, there have been very few thinkers, even among those influenced
by existentialism—perhaps Astrada is the only exception—who have gone
so far as to deny completely that there is a human essence. The tendency
in Latin America has been to conceive this essence as dynamic, rather
than to eliminate it altogether.
In examining the issue of whether humans have an essence, we come
to the third issue that constitutes the nucleus of the anthropological
problem. In it the meaningfulness of the question itself is raised. This
investigation can be regarded as epistemological insofar as it includes the
following two dimensions: the identification of criteria whereby humans
can be effectively distinguished from other beings and the understanding
of such criteria. For example, if one accepts the Aristotelian view that
 Introduction 79

humans are rational animals, then the first aspect consists in establishing
the criterion of rationality as effective in distinguishing humans, whereas
the second consists in understanding what is meant by this criterion. The
answer to this twofold question properly resolves the problem of whether
we can meaningfully speak of a human essence. Of course, as we saw in
Part I of this volume, during the colonial period of Mexican philosophy,
for example, there were radically divergent interpretations of the answers
to this question. Both Sepulveda and Las Casas used an Aristotelian model
to answer the question of whether the natives were human or not, yet
their answers were in complete opposition to one another. Las Casas
argued that the Indians were humans, but Sepulveda objected that they
were barbarians and therefore not entitled to have human rights.
Given the strong influence of positivism in Latin America, many
philosophers of the region have devoted considerable time to combating
the scientistic view that reduced humans to something purely physiolog-
ical, destroying all qualitative distinctions between humans and nature. In
this reaction, the Latin American philosophers of the twentieth century
were in the company of European philosophers such as Scheler and Cas-
sirer.2 However, the fight against what were perceived to be the ills of pos-
itivism often involved a neglect of some of the ontological and metaphys-
ical dimensions of the human problem.
In contrast, the cosmo-ethical status of humans has seldom been
neglected, and contributions by Latin American thinkers to this dimension
of philosophical anthropology have been consistently impressive. With
rare exceptions, all the Latin American thinkers who have given serious
attention to philosophical anthropology have also examined the place that
humans occupy in the universe and the consequences for the moral,
social, and political life. This concern is especially evident among those
committed to a practical ideology, such as Marxists, and is, perhaps, a
direct result of the critical situation that continues to confront Latin
America, a region rife with political instability and economic problems.
Simply put, this aspect of the anthropological question is central to
humanism, insofar as it concerns how to understand humans in light of
their particular relationships to nature and society. The pertinent question
becomes in this context: “What is a human being in a given region and in
relation to specific socioeconomic realities?” Again, in their search for an
adequate answer, Latin American philosophers have followed the lead of
Western thinkers who have always given great importance to this matter.
The Greeks began to treat this problem effectively when they placed
humans at the cosmological and ethical center of the universe. But clas-
sical humanism does not recur in its fullness at any time in the subse-
quent history of Western thought, not even in the Renaissance. With the
death of Greek culture, humans ceased to be considered the absolute
80 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

center of the universe and became subordinate to a greater or lesser

degree to other realities. Parallel to the development that gradually
deprived humans of their traditional attributes such as substantiality,
essence, and reason, they became deprived of their cosmological and eth-
ical preeminence to such a degree that in the nineteenth century they were
even denied a moral conscience. Positivism’s crude scientism converted
moral conscience into a mere illusion reducible to instincts that function
mechanically.
The inadequacy of such a view engendered an adverse antiscientistic
reaction with which the twentieth century opened in Latin America.
Inspired particularly by the perspectivism of Ortega y Gasset and later by
existentialism, Latin American philosophers, as had been the case with
their European counterparts, turned again to humans and restored them
as the measure, indeed the center, of the universe, though no longer in the
absolute sense of the ancients. A return to the Greek cosmogony and its
essentialist ethic was impossible. Scientific and philosophical discoveries
of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, advancements which continue
into the present, prevented such a return. Humans became only the rela-
tive center of the universe. They were no longer the universal entities who
judged the cosmos, but concrete and historical beings who constructed
their world. Rather than an essential center, in this more radical contem-
porary humanism, humans become the transcendental condition of all
things. The centrality of humans, therefore, is relative to individuals and
eminently subjective.

POSITIVISTIC ANTHROPOLOGY

Latin American anthropological thought in the twentieth century takes

root in the major philosophical current of the nineteenth century, namely,
positivism. Positivism was nurtured on such heterogeneous elements as
the evolutionistic naturalism of Herbert Spencer, the positivism of Auguste
Comte, and the utilitarianism of John Stuart Mill. The unity of Latin Amer-
ican positivism, therefore, is more a matter of perspective than of content,
since it reduces ultimately to an attitude that exalts the explanatory value
of science to the detriment of metaphysics and other theoretical disci-
plines. All genuine knowledge must be based on empirical experience and
not on speculation. As a result, the anthropological problem within this
perspective is reduced to the study of psychic phenomena, and philo-
sophical anthropology becomes empirical associationist psychology or
biology.
However, one must take note of positivism’s philosophical wisdom in
recognizing the fundamental importance of the ontological problem men-
 Introduction 81

tioned earlier. Positivists begin by raising the problem of the self’s exis-
tence, even though the answer is negative in that they analyze the self in
phenomenal terms. In positivism, the self ceases to be an existing and
substantial entity and is conceived as a set of phenomena that, because of
the interrelationships, contiguity, and succession of the pertinent indi-
vidual phenomena, gives the impression of including something that sus-
tains them. This empirical phenomenalism is used to explain the subject-
object, mind-body dualism of human experience, a dualism resolved by
maintaining a parallelism between these phenomena considered as cor-
relative but irreducible as Enrique José Varona (1849-1933) did, or by
accepting a biomechanistic monism in which the phenomenal duality is
reduced to the real unity of a common, energized substratum as was pro-
posed by José Ingenieros (1877-1925).
As already stated, most positivists begin their investigation of the
human being by focusing on the question of ontological status, but their
solution to this precludes the possibility of continuing the investigation
along metaphysical and epistemological lines. If individual human selves
are reduced to bundles of phenomena, then it is superfluous to speak of
a human essence or its definition and interpretation. Some positivists, like
Varona and Ingenieros, however, do attempt to offer solutions to the
cosmo-ethical problem, although their attempts are lamentable failures.
The presuppositions of positivistic anthropology do not permit the con-
struction of a normative ethic. If humans are no more than collections of
phenomena strictly ordered according to deterministic laws, then human
freedom is an illusion and ethics becomes a purely descriptive science.
Ingenieros understands and explicitly accepts the consequences of his
psychological position: “The term to choose is badly used and has the false
connotation of an entity that chooses: the supposed choosing is simply a
natural selection among different possibilities, in the sense most appro-
priate to the conservation of life and the least expenditure of energy.”

VITALISTIC ANTHROPOLOGY

These implications, devastating for ethics, were instrumental in engen-

dering the anti-positivistic reaction in Latin America. A group of thinkers
influenced principally by Bergson began to attack those presuppositions of
positivism that destroy human freedom. The concern with the problem of
freedom emerged early in the twentieth century and continues to shape
many of the contributions to philosophical anthropology to this day. In
1903 Carlos Vaz Ferreira started work on his book Los problemas de la li-
bertad, and published it in unfinished form in 1907. The first serious crit-
icisms of positivism, however, were made by Alejandro O, Deustua in Peru
82 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

and Antonio Caso in Mexico. They were followed by those of Enrique

Molina, Alejandro Korn, and others.
Detistua argued persuasively in Las ideas de orden y libertad en la his-
toria del pensamiento humano (1917-22) that the idea of order, which is
the basis of positivistic determinism, is logically posterior to the idea of
freedom and that both are necessary to explain intellectual history.
Freedom is necessary for any change in order and, therefore, order is sub-
ordinate to freedom.
With the ethical limitations of positivism made explicit, Latin Amer-
ican thought was free to explore new philosophical horizons. Philosoph-
ical anthropology abandoned its interest in the ontological status of the
mind, which had been the foundation of positivistic psychology, and
turned toward the epistemological problem connected with the criteria of
distinction of human beings and its understanding. The philosophers who
established the foundations of the new anthropology were, principally,
Caso and Vasconcelos in Mexico.
Antonio Caso (1883-1946) and José Vasconcelos (1882-1959) were
the two major figures who shaped contemporary Mexican philosophy.
Born only one year apart, they were charter members of the Ateneo de la
Juventud, which was the point of departure for new philosophical
thinking in Mexico. Both became presidents of the National University of
Mexico at some point in their careers, and both were intensely concerned
with the destiny of their country, an issue about which they wrote at
length.4
Caso’s philosophical anthropology, as developed in La existencia
como economia, como desinterés y como caridad (1919), can be character-
ized as a personalism. Humans are differentiated from the rest of the uni-
verse because they are persons. The physical realm is constituted of
things, that is, beings without unity that, as a consequence, are highly
divisible. The organic realm consists of individuals that constitute a level
of being superior to a divisible thing, although still inferior to humans. It
is only in humans that the highest level of the spirit—the person—appears
in nature. When individuals become persons, they acquire unity, identity,
and substantial continuity, only then becoming fully human. The person
is the complete fulfillment of human essence because it is a creator of
values. “It is proper to man to fulfill his essence continually and the
essence is the person creating values.”5
Humans, however, are also individuals, and the tension between indi-
viduals and persons creates moral conflict. Individuals are egotistical and
interested only in their own biological survival and welfare. The law that
governs human existence is essentially economic: “life = maximum gain
with minimum effort.”© Persons, on the other hand, exist toward others
and tend to unbind their biological interests, choosing freely the ethics of
 Introduction 83

disinterest and love. The law that motivates them is that of charity: “sac-
rifice = maximum effort and minimum gain.”’ The highest expression of
this free and disinterested activity is art.
Caso’s trilogy “thing-individual-person” is reformulated in Vascon-
celos’s Todologia (1952) as “quantic wave-molecule-cell-person.” How-
ever, the significance of the elements is completely different. In Vascon-
celos’s aesthetic monism each of the elements represents a different stage
in the constant struggle of the cosmos to maintain its existence and to con-
tain the tendency toward dissolution and dispersion present in every
being. The quantic wave is the first elemental structure to restrain the
process of universal dissolution. The molecule is the second cosmic effort
to restrain the disintegration; the third and fourth cosmic efforts consti-
tute, successively, the cell and the human person. In the fourth one finds
the maximum degree of coordination of the heterogeneous, namely, con-
sciousness. By means of consciousness, humans reflect and unify within
themselves the heterogeneous multiplicity of the universe, becoming true
microcosms.
The ‘self’, ‘consciousness’, and ‘soul’ are equivalent terms for Vas-
concelos. The nature of the reality that they represent is known to us
through their coordinating activity, but their being “is an unfathomable
abyss.”8 The self always escapes any analytical scrutiny. We know it only
through its effects.
For Caso as well as for Vasconcelos, the primary concern is to char-
acterize our place in the universe. They both point to personality as the
essential constitutive element of our humanity. For the first, the person is
the center of free, disinterested activity. Vasconcelos, on the other hand,
identifies the person with consciousness and characterizes it as a coordi-
nating element of the cosmos. Both thinkers, therefore, tend to neglect the
ontological and metaphysical problems involved in philosophical anthro-
pology.

ANTHROPOLOGY OF THE SPIRIT

When the philosophical supremacy of positivism was broken through the

work of Detistua, Korn, Caso, Vasconcelos, and Farias Brito, among
others, the study and acceptance of new European philosophical tenden-
cies became more widespread. In 1916 Ortega y Gasset came to Latin
America for the first time and introduced contemporary German thought
to audiences throughout the continent. The generation of thinkers that fol-
lowed “the founders” were inspired by him and his mentors, Husserl,
Dilthey, Scheler, and Hartmann.
Philosophical renovation took root with such thinkers as Samuel
84 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

Ramos in Mexico and Francisco Romero in Argentina, followed by Risieri

Frondizi, Francisco Miré Quesada, and Leopoldo Zea. Ramos and Romero
focused attention on the characterization of the relation of humans to the
universe and also explored the ontological implications of their views. As
the selections included in this volume indicate, Frondizi and Miro Que-
sada develop different lines of thought. And Zea’s interests, as we shall
see in Part IV, grew into a quite different direction, which although having
roots in philosophical anthropology gave rise to new developments in
Latin American philosophy, the search for cultural identity. Frondizi is the
only thinker of his generation to work extensively with the ontological
question, and Mirdé Quesada investigates the metaphysical problem from
an epistemic perspective.

Francisco Romero (1891-1962)

According to Romero, “duality is the constituting fact of the full man.”?

The elements of this duality are intentionality and spirit. The first in itself
is a human element, although animals possess a rudiment of intention-
ality. Humans, however, possess intentionality in a full and essential
sense. Human “consciousness is organized as a differentiated structure in
which there exists A subjective pole which grasps objects and projects
itself actively toward them.”!° The subjective pole is the individual self
that, in Romero’s view, distinguishes human consciousness from the pre-
intentional psychism characteristic of animals.
The “intentional man” or self, however, is not the “full man.” The
intentional self is “a mere human.” His humanity is completed with a
second element: spirit. Structurally, there is no difference between the
intentional man and the spiritual man. Both are human beings and both
are structured as a self-world pair. The difference is in their direction. In
the first, the direction is subjective, toward the self. In the second, it is
objective. The purely intentional act always returns to the subject,
whereas a spiritual act comes to rest on the object.
The intentional man is part of nature and acts in accord with its laws.
The spiritual man, on the other hand, is not a natural entity. The direction
toward the other indicates that he has broken with nature, giving him the
freedom of action that constitutes man as an axiological being.
Transcendence is the metaphysical basis of man’s being as well as of
all reality. For Romero reality consists of four orders: the inorganic, the
organic, intentionality, and spirit. Each of these is structured on the level
that precedes it, which in turn serves as a foundation to the level above
it. Each level transcends its preceding level and is transcended by the level
that follows it. Humans, therefore, consist of a dual transcendence: as
intentional selves, they transcend toward the objects which they take to
 Introduction 85

themselves, and as spirits they transcend toward the object and rest in it.
The highest level of transcendence is spirit.
Romero’s theory is profound and fruitful. However, it tends to ignore
a fundamental problem in the anthropological question, namely, that con-
cerned with ontological status. In the same year in which Romero pub-
lished his major work, Frondizi brought out his Substancia y funcidn en el
problema del yo, a book that gives special attention to the very issue that
Romero neglects.

Risiert Frondizi (1910-1983)

Frondizi rejected the two traditional solutions to the problem of the exis-
tence and nature of the self: the substantialist position that conceives the
self as a transempirical entity and the atomist position that dissolves it
into a collection of lived experiences.
The basic error of the traditional substantialism originating with
Descartes is to suppose that all activity requires a subject. This sort of
approach leads to the conclusion that thinking presupposes a something
that thinks. Empirical atomism, finding its origins in Hume, erred,
according to Frondizi, through “the sophism of reduction,” i.e., the meta-
physical postulate that seeks to reduce wholes to their component parts.
The outcome of both perspectives is disastrous; the substantialist creates
an artificial entity whereas the atomist destroys the self.
Frondizi finds the solution in the concept of structure (Gestalt). The
self is a quality that lived experiences possess when they are taken as
wholes. Immutability, simplicity, and independence, characteristics that
substantialism sustained in a transempirical entity, are changed to muta-
bility, complexity, and dependence. At the same time, however, Frondizi
avoids the atomist reduction of the self to its component parts. As a struc-
tural quality, the self depends upon the members of its structure, the lived-
experiences, but it cannot be reduced to them. In virtue of this condition,
the self is one and permanent in spite of being mutable and complex.

Francisco Mir6é Quesada (b. 1918)

For Mird Quesada the basic problem in philosophical anthropology is

what we characterized above as the metaphysical question, and he
approached it from an epistemological perspective in El hombre sin teoria
(1959). The problem is not the status of the human essence but rather the
possibility of formulating an adequate theory of man.
On the one hand, it is a fact of human experience that we cannot live
without theory and that all theory concerning the world that surrounds us
implies a theory concerning us. On the other hand, man is a reality so
86 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

complex that every theory of man is destined to inevitable failure. What,

then, is one to do? One solution is to cast aside or modify unacceptable
theories in favor of more truthful ones. But this procedure is unsatisfac-
tory, in that “whatever we do, our theory concerning ourselves will have
the same outcome as the others.”!! The only way out, therefore, is to
desist from theorizing about man. But is this not impossible? Is theory not
necessary for our practical life and even implicit in our language?
Mir6é Quesada claims this is not necessarily the case. To be sure, we
cannot dispense with the theory implicit in language, but this theory is dif-
ferent from scientific-philosophical theories about the world, life, and
human destiny. The first is primitive, spontaneous, collective, and practi-
cally unconscious; the second, however, is created for the specific pur-
poses of knowledge. It is the latter that we must abandon in order to pay
attention to the facts, since scientific and philosophical theories about
human beings are artificial dividers among us. True humanism must be
founded on fact and not on theory.

EXISTENTIALIST AND MARXIST ANTHROPOLOGIES

Existentialism began to influence Latin American philosophy in the 1930s.

Its impact was extensive, but few Latin American philosophers accepted
existentialism uncritically. Among those most influenced by it, the more
prominent are Carlos Astrada of Argentina and Vicente Ferreira da Silva of
Brazil. The work of the former reflects the reading of Being and Time,
although in about 1950 Astrada abandoned the Heideggerian perspective
and adopted a Marxist outlook. Ferreira da Silva (1916-1963), not
included in this collection, was inspired principally by the works of Hei-
degger’s later period. Both of these philosophers were concerned in par-
ticular with the metaphysical problem of the essence of human beings.

Carlos Astrada (1894-1970)

In La revolucioén existencialista (1952), Astrada identified the essence of

human beings with their historic humanity. Heidegger’s error, according
to Astrada, consisted in the ambiguity latent in his thought, an ambiguity
couched in the debate between the old ontological objectivity and exis-
tential-historical transcendence.
Properly speaking, man is not a determinate thing. Human essence is
temporal existence and, therefore, it is more a possibility than a given
reality. “Man never is in the sense of something conclusive and formed in
the ideal mold of a goal that was to be achieved; rather he is an eternal
coming to be suspended in the effort in which he is projected toward his-
 Introduction 87

torical concretions.”!* The mission and nature of humans is dramatic,

says Astrada in terminology reminiscent of Ortega. Human beings can be
remolded and changed because they are nothing definite. Men do not
depend on the idea of man; rather the idea of man depends upon men.
Once humanity is accepted as a mere possibility, humans are able to
develop free of the limitations imposed by eternal truths and essences.
This is the basis of a true humanism centered upon the identity of existing
man. As for Marx, Astrada maintains that the only limitation imposed
upon human beings is their concrete existence. This does not condemn us
to subjectivism, however, because our objectivity is given in our history.

NOTES
1. R. Frondizi, El yo como estructura dindmica (Buenos Aires: Paidés,
1970), p. ll.
2. See, for example, Scheler’s Man’s Place in Nature (1928) and Cassirer’s
Essay on Man (1944).
3. J. Ingenieros, Principios de psicologia, in Obras completas, vol. 3 (Buenos
Aires: Mar Océano, 1962), p. 148.
4. See, for example, A. Caso: Discursos a la nacion mexicana (1922), México
y la ideologia nacional (1924), Nuevos discursos a la nacién mexicana (1934), and
México, apuntamientos de cultura patria (1943); and J. Vasconcelos: Estudios
indostdnicos (1920), La raza cosmica (1925), and Indologia (1926).
5. A. Caso, La existencia como economta, como desinterés y como caridad,
in Antologia filosdfica (Mexico City: Ediciones de la Secretaria de Educacién
Publica, 1943), p. 190.
Om lIbidts pr ol
7. Ibid., p. 61.
8. J. Vasconcelos, Todologia, in Obras completas, vol. 4 (Mexico City:
Libreros Mexicanos Unidos, 1961), p. 905.
9. F. Romero, Teorta del hombre, 3d ed. (Buenos Aires: Losada, 1965), p. 193.
10. Ibid., p. 127.
11. F. Miré Quesada, El hombre sin teorta (Lima: Universidad Mayor de San
Marcos, 1959), p. 24.
12. C. Astrada, Existencialismo y crisis de la filosofia (Buenos Aires: Devenir,
1963), p. 190. This text is an expanded reedition with substantial changes of La
revolucion existencialista.
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Francisco Romero
(1891-1962)

Reve was born in Seville in 1891 and as a child came to Argentina,

where he remained the rest of his life. He was educated as a mili-
tary engineer and attained the rank of major in the army. During his youth
he began to explore the bounds of his professional training, tending first
toward literature and then toward philosophy. In these areas he was his
own teacher. His philosophical interests and self-discipline led him to
study philosophy on his own during long nights in the barracks after he
had completed his professional duties. He began by reading Spencer and
later turned to the study of German philosophy. Husserl, but principally
Scheler and Nicolai Hartmann, were major influences in the formation of
his philosophical perspective. His close friendship with Alejandro Korn
was also a guiding factor in his life.
In 1939 he resigned his commission in order to work full time in phi-
losophy. He was promoted from assistant professor to full professor of
epistemology and metaphysics at the University of Buenos Aires, replacing
his friend Korn who had retired the previous year. He was also professor
at the University of La Plata. In 1946 he resigned from all his positions but
returned to them in 1955. In 1962 he was appointed professor emeritus
and traveled to Europe. Upon returning, he suffered a cerebral hemorrhage
and died on the seventh of October that same year.
His creative work ran concurrently with the teaching he carried on
both in and out of the university. From 1937 until his death he was
director of the philosophical library of the Losada Publishing House. He
was the organizer of the chair of philosophy in the Colegio Libre de Estu-
dios Superiores, and he published numberous popular essays that came to
create an environment favorable to the development of philosophy as a
“normal task.” Romero was the last Argentinian philosopher to live in a

89
90 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

heroic age, when philosophical activity was carried on in the face of

public indifference or official opposition.
Until 1952 he had not published a systematic work, although for more
than twenty years he had developed his philosophical ideas and published
articles sketching his thought. His most important essays were “Vieja y
nueva concepcion de la realidad” (1932); “Filosofia de la persona” (1935);
“Programa de una filosofia” (1940); and “Trascendencia y valor” (1942).
The last two were published in Sur, numbers 73 and 92, and were incor-
porated in Papelas para una filosofia (1945). The majority of his impor-
tant essays were also incorporated into books.
If we leave aside his Historia de la filosofia moderna (1959), his only
systematic work is Teoria del hombre (1952), in which he develops a
philosophical anthropology “within the context of a metaphysics of tran-
scendence.”
The concept of “transcendence” is fundamental for his thought. Hier-
archical levels depend on the degreee of transcendence, with the least to
be found in the physical and the most to be found in the spiritual level.
The intermediate levels are those of life and intentional psychism. What
is human is found on the third level, that of intentional psychism, and this
is perfected in the spirit, which is “absolute transcendence.” The first most
important characteristic of the spirit is “absolute objectivity” and the
second is “universality.” To these must be added freedom and historicity.
If the numerous works published throughout a period of twenty years
had not been enough to ensure that Romero would be an outstanding
philosopher, his Teorta del hombre, considered by many to be one of the
most solid works in Latin American philosophy, secured his position as an
original thinker.
Theory of Man

INTENTIONAL CONSCIOUSNESS

Preintentional Psychism and Intentional Consciousness

|:is best to conceive of psychism! in its earliest stages as an undivided

succession of states, a kind of psychical repercussion of life. No distinc-
tion between subject and object exists in such psychism, nor can one prop-
erly speak of it as consciousness. Life is recorded psychically; it resounds
and multiplies in a clouded psyche. This psychism is, so to speak, inherent
in life from its beginning, being a direct echo of life and the instrument of
the living entity to be used for its internal coordination and external con-
duct. The superior or intentional psyche is based on this foundation, and its
distinguishing characteristic consists in the objective direction of its acts.
Also resting on this foundation, though in less direct fashion, is the spirit,
the principle whereby man passes beyond the natural realm.
Our sole concern at this point is to make clear the nonintentional
character of animal psychism, yet at the same time, conceding to some
species of animals a vague rudiment of intentionality that is limited and
detained in its first stages. As a normal function, true and complete inten-
tionality carries with it, of necessity, both nomination and objective com-
munication, in preparation, as we shall see, for that inversion of interest
of which the spirit consists. If intentional consciousness actually operated
in animals, it would manifest itself in a language of objective content; it

From Francisco Romero, Theory of Man (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1964), pp.
3-4, 6-7, 33-35, 83, 96-97, 122-23, 133-37, 139-42, 162-65, 167-74, 177-78, 180-81,
207-209. Originally published by the University of California Press, reprinted by permission
of the Regents of the University of California.

oA
OZ Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

would give rise to the beginning of self-consciousness, and that being

would not then be an animal, but the sketch of a man. Provisionally, we
accept Max Scheler’s conclusions concerning the psychism of animals as
it pertains to affective impulses (which would seem to be apparent in
plants), instinct, and associative memory. We do not share his opinion
concerning what he calls practical intelligence. We disagree with his sup-
position that practical intelligence is similar in animals and in man—that
there is only a difference of degree between a chimpanzee and an Edison
(as inventors of technical artifacts). We believe that the difference—or the
primary difference—between man and the animals must be sought in this
aspect, yet without denying the statement that it is the spirit that com-
pletes and perfects human nature... .
It is proper for man to perceive objects, to recognize reality as a con-
glomeration of separate entities endowed with existence and consistency.
Man is, in the first place, an intentional consciousness—without it he is
not man. What is characteristic of intentional consciousness consists in a
cluster of intentions or acts projected toward objects in the function of
cognitive, emotional, or volitional apprehension. “States” or psychical acts
without intentional character, that is without objective direction, occur in
man as in animals, but it is man’s prerogative that many of his states lose
their condition as such by becoming the content of intentional acts. Of
these, the cognitive acts enjoy an undoubted priority and preeminence in
the shaping of human nature, for they are what establishes intentional
consciousness. Simultaneously these acts create or distinguish the object
and present it to us as perceivable, for they have the concealed ability to
give objective form to sensible material and the evident capacity to pre-
sent this outcome to us as objects existent in themselves. The common
observations concerning the priority or superior strength of the emotions
or the will with respect to the intellect do not succeed in invalidating the
former assertion, as will be seen later.
Intentional activity transforms the states into objects. The exploration
and description of the mechanism and function that produce that transmu-
tation are the concern of the theory of knowledge. We use the word
“object” in its most inclusive sense—it takes in everything that comes into
the cognitive glance, everything that is apprehended by the subject. . . .
We are able to conceive the attribution of objectivity only as an act
similar to judgment. The state is merely lived, endured. It is neither
accepted nor rejected; it is not apprehended and, properly speaking, there
is no consciousness of it. When one turns toward a state, it automatically
becomes an object, and the “turning onward” is a becoming aware that
the state is there, that it is, and subsequently that it is of this or that form.
To perceive, to apprehend something, is to attribute being and consistency
to what is apprehended. The subject, therefore, is born as the ability to
 Francisco Romero 93

assign presence to states, to judge that they are. This objectifying judg-
ment, however, is not conscious, formulated, and explicit, since we are
not conscious of it. Yet this judgment provides us with the consciousness
of objects. Further, the lack of consciousness of this act of judgment does
not argue against it, because, even in the ordinary activity of the intelli-
gence, we are not conscious of the major part of our judgments.
The objectifying judgment is similar to the existential judgment dealt
with in logic, and though this similarity has been noted more than once
before, there is considerable difference between the two. One must keep
in mind that for both the characteristic of judgment is assertion and not
the attribution of predicates. Yet we do not become trapped in insur-
mountable difficulties if we insist—contrary to the opinion of Meinong
and others—in maintaining predication as a sine qua non of judgment,
since what constitutes the object may be thought of as the predication of
existence, or, as we prefer to state it, of presence. The objectifying act may
be conceived according to the formula “that is an existent” or “that is
present,” whereby one expresses that “that” (which was a state until the
intentional glance fell on it) is an existent or something of the class of that
which is placed before a subject. .. . As has been previously stated, man
is the being for whom there are (or who perceives) objects, and he is the
being who is a subject. Let us now add with equally strong emphasis that
man is the being who judges. For, as we have seen, the subject unfolds as
the being capable of judging, of attributing objectivity to states. In fact, we
might say that this capacity to judge becomes substance or is structured
into an entity. The subject is the judging entity, but he himself seems to
appear in order to embody the judging attitude, as though awakened or
called up by an obscure power in the preintentional psyche which would
assert itself and thereby rise to the level of consciousness—the level it
achieves as soon as it forges an adequate instrument.
To dwell on problems limited to the sphere of knowledge would lead
us astray from our primary aim—the elucidation of the idea of man—so
we will add only those comments that seem indispensable to our purpose.
For us, as has been firmly asserted, the essential activity of the subject is
judgment. This is not the only function in which the subject is engaged,
yet it is the function which, so far as he is a subject, bestows being on
him, and which through reiteration confirms him as a subjective entity
and increases his stature as such... .

The subject-object structure is not only essential and determinative in man—

in what might be called his individual constitution; it is also essential in the
community or collection of men and in man’s objective product, that is, his
culture. The capacity of this basic structure to provide a satisfactory explana-
tion of everything human is precisely what assures us of its truth.
94 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

What is proper to the human community derives, without exception,

from the fact that man is a subject and that he perceives or conceives a
world of objectivities. Social life, as such, is not exclusively human. Not
only do many species of animals live in societies of diverse kinds, they
also reveal some of the conditions investigated in human society by soci-
ologists—positive and negative tensions, leadership, stratification, divi-
sion of labor, and so forth. The parallel can be drawn with particular ref-
erence to family complexes. No animal grouping, however, regardless of
the aspects which it may have in common with human society, can rea-
sonably be equated with it; only human society is a grouping of subjects,
each with its own world of objects, and each one, therefore, capable of
objectifying the group and of objectively conceiving each of his compan-
iorisieieh

CULTURE

Our primary intention is to show how culture stems—one might say by

necessity—from the objectifying capacity and, therefore, is a part of the
fact that man is a subject who grasps and conceives an objective world.
The unity of man and culture is manifest in many ways, and we are espe-
cially interested in pointing out, in the correlation between them, culture’s
influence on man.
Let us first define the distinction between objective culture and cul-
tural life. Objective culture includes all of man’s creations that achieve
substantiality and autonomy with reference to their creator and thus have
a relatively separate existence, such as institutions, works of art, theories,
and customs. By cultural life is understood the life that man lives in the
midst of the objects he has created. If the merely organic—in which man
coincides with other living beings—is left aside, then the whole of man’s
life is cultural life. What continues to be purely organic in man is not clear,
for, since man is immersed in culture, much in him that originally was
organic has taken on cultural implications. For example, the digestive
functions are modified by diet and regularity, which are the products of
culture; sexual activity stems in part from peculiarly human motives
occurring within a framework in which the agents are subjects, and their
activity takes place in specifically defined situations usually under strict
social regulation.
The reference to culture at this point provisionally sets aside its spiri-
tual aspect. From our point of view, culture is not necessarily spiritual,
even though throughout it seems to be dominated from above by spiritual
motives, and even if in effect it is spiritual in many of its expressions. The
spiritual implications in culture will be discussed later.
 Francisco Romero 95

All specifically human activity is cultural. It presupposes cultural ob-

jectifications and it manipulates them in the processes of creation,
modification, comprehension, and development. Human life is inconceiv-
able apart from culture. The notion of culture includes, then, every human
product and all human conduct. The strictly organic is not human, just as
the physical is not organic. Yet weight, a physical trait, is something no
living body can escape. ...

THE SELF AND THE WORLD: THE NATURAL MAN

In the previous chapters we have tried to describe the fundamental struc-

ture of man. We have shown that this structure presupposes a judging atti-
tude, that it introduces into the most profound levels of man what later
becomes the explicit judgment. We have attempted to show that intelli-
gence and significative language, just as much as the human community
and culture, are based on that fundamental structure; and we have
referred to the role of intentionality in the acceleration of activity and in
the process of individualization which seem to provide the essential direc-
tions to the cosmic process. The problem of the spirit has remained a sep-
arate one thus far, since it is to be the theme of Part Two. But it has been
indicated that intentionality leads to the spirit and is perfected in it, and
that intelligence, society, and culture, if indeed they can be maintained on
the level of pure intentionality, take on the forms in which they are
familiar to us as well as their characteristic human dimension when they
are integrated with the spiritual dimension.
To be constructed on the intentional structure yet to be deprived of the
spirit, is neither to be an animal nor, strictly speaking, to be a man in the
full sense of the word. It is not legitimate, on the other hand, to deny
absolutely a human condition to such a being. Perhaps we might say that
we should attribute that condition to him in the light of the promise of the
spirit which is latent in his intentionality. Such a being has undoubtedly
existed in the inferior stages of humanity, perhaps existing normally in
minimal cultures and, perchance, in isolated instances, enduring in the
superior cultures. We refer to it as natural man and, as we have stated,
characterize it by the total lack of the spiritual factor. We do not preclude
that the spiritual attitude may arise suddenly and unexpectedly in inten-
tionality, influenced by inner motives, by an example, or by some external
appeal. The natural attitude is maintained only until the first spark of
spirit appears. Habitual persistence in overtly natural attitudes, if in some
way one has assented or assents to the spiritual attitude, does not consti-
tute a true natural attitude, but rather a special situation related to the
duality peculiar to man. This duality is discussed in Part Three.
96 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

Let us consider the principal traits of the natural man—that is, man
so far as he is deprived of spirit.
This man, built on the subject-object structure, is a self surrounded by
a world of objectivities. The self-world pair represents a step up from the
subject-object pair. The subject is converted into a self through the reitera-
tion of intentional acts which organize the subjectivity, granting it consis-
tency, continuity, and identity with itself. The world is the result of
habitual objective experience.
The self can be dissolved into the “we” or affirmed individually. The
consciousness of the self is just as natural when the individual incorpo-
rates himself into a natural complex with which he identifies himself as
when he sharply distinguishes his own natural individuality from that of
his fellows. The universal projection, the turn toward the “other,” exclu-
sively constitutes the nonnatural or the spiritual attitude... .

THE SPIRIT IN GENERAL

Intentionality and Spirit

In preintentional psychism, the individual lives his states obscurely,

without referring them to a subjective center. In intentional psychism,
consciousness is organized as a differentiated structure in which a sub-
jective pole exists that grasps objects and projects itself actively toward
them. The subjective pole, in keeping with its normal function, is consti-
tuted as a self surrounded by a world, that is, an environment of objecti-
fications linked together objectively. The acts of the self—cognitive, emo-
tional, volitional—flow into this world, which determines them in part,
both by the situations that it presents to the self and by what the latter
owes to the accumulated experiences of that world with respect to its own
constitution. In merely intentional psychism, the world is only the objec-
tive field in which the self affirms and develops its existence, governed
entirely by practical interests, by incentives of an individual sort which are
referred to the concrete and unique being of the self. The situation does
not change fundamentally, as has been said, when these interests are
referred to complexes or groups with which the individual is concretely
identified rather than directly to a single individual. This is true only to
the extent to which the identification with the group stems from concrete
and practical motives and not from ideal intentions, for in the latter case
one crosses over from the natural to the spiritual attitude.
Merely intentional activity creates objectivities for the subject but sub-
ordinates them at once to the immediate goals of the percipient, who cata-
logues them under the earmark of interesting or indifferent, useful or use-
 Francisco Romero 97

less, agreeable or disagreeable, attractive or repugnant, and so on. The

emphasis on some of these objectivities and the blurring of others, the
direction and energy of the objectifying glance, depend on practical fac-
tors. These concrete incentives are at work, primarily, in subsequent cog-
nitive activity, in intellectual elaborations. The emotional and volitional
acts are oriented in the same manner, depending on and yet to the advan-
tage of the psychophysical reality of the agent. Thus, intentional acts are
launched toward given objectivities, but a return to the subject is within
them.
The principal characteristic of the spiritual act is the lack of this
return. The spiritual act is projected toward the object, and it remains
there. In cognitive, emotional, and volitional activity, the self is concerned
with the objectivities for what they are in themselves. In merely inten-
tional activity the subject places the objects and then takes them to him-
self, whereas in the spiritual act he places the objects and then yields him-
self to them. In order to give profile to the spiritual act at this point, let
this provisional and incomplete definition be offered: the spiritual act is
that intentional act in which the subject yields himself to the object. A
more precise specification of this kind of act requires that one determine
its what, why, and how—that is, its internal nature, the presumed motive
of its appearance, and its manner of functioning.
Because the spiritual act is an act of a special nature, of a superior
kind, hereafter, when we refer to nonspiritual intentionality, we will say
“mere intentionality” or “pure intentionality,” or we will use some other
expression distinguishing it from intentionality made spiritual.
At first glance, according to the preceding summary description, the
spiritual act seems more simple, more direct, and less complex than the
act of mere intentionality. Actually, one element in the nonspiritual inten-
tional act is lacking in the spiritual act—the subjective return, the prac-
tical reference of what is objectified to the individuality of the agent.
When the naked acts are taken in themselves, they undoubtedly present
this difference. But this is not so if, as is only just, attention is focused on
the self and its corresponding behavior in mere intentionality and in inten-
tionality made spiritual. In the first, the self lives its natural state sponta-
neously, leaning over the object and bringing to bear its own reality as a
concrete individual who takes himself as the universal and ultimate point
of reference. As can now be well seen, what we have referred to as sub-
jective return is not something that can be superimposed on its act by the
self; rather, it is an intention operative within the act itself—it is the final
polarization of the act toward the agent which is inherent in the “natural”
attitude of the agent. In the spiritual act, on the one hand, this intention
is suppressed, but what occurs is not, properly speaking, a simplification,
but a purification of the act. On the other hand, the spiritual act enlarges
98 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

its radius with respect to the nonspiritual act, because, in freely turning to
its object, it finds a more extended area than that circumscribed by the rel-
atively limited register of the practical interests of the agent. Mere inten-
tionality redirects reality to the midst of man’s natural state, whereas, in
the spiritual attitude, man turns to whatever is and participates abun-
dantly in totality. The self, particularistic in the first attitude, rises above
itself and is universalized in the second.
The difference between the psychism of states and intentional psy-
chism is self-evident if one accepts the proofs or assumptions we have pre-
viously set forth. The first is a flux of psychic matter with no clear dis-
tinction between cognition, emotion, and the will, and without a subject
before whom objectified instances might appear. Intentional psychism is
an intimate aspect of the activity of a subject to whom objectivities are
presented, who recognizes them intellectually and projects on them, as
objectivities, his acts of emotion and will. The difference between these
two psychical realities is enormous in itself, even if one considers only
their internal structures. Such a difference is increased when one con-
siders its mode of functioning. Preintentional psychism finds itself
inevitably at the command of organic life. It is an instrument of regulation
and adaptation for the individual, in that it adapts the individual to the
surroundings and also in that it partly adapts the surroundings to the indi-
vidual—so far as it limits the environment and makes it functional in view
of the implicit demands in the constitution of each species. High as one
may ascend the scale of this psychism, though occasionally and excep-
tionally the rudiments of intentionality may be found in the individual,
such an individual never passes beyond the level of the purely vital, it
does not come to be a self surrounded by a world that it can recognize and
within which it conducts itself with a free choice, taking into considera-
tion the wide perspective of objects extended in space and time. Inten-
tional psychism, however, draws the individual out of the strictly organic
level, converting the individual into a self gifted with a world in which he
develops an action overcoming the biological levels to the extent that the
incentives of this order are partly transformed into motives of another
kind. It is essential not to ignore that intentionality entails cultural objec-
tification whereby a realm of a new kind is constituted around the indi-
vidual, the realm of culture, thus creating a complex, untested situation;
for the subject lives simultaneously in the world of the spontaneous nat-
ural state and in that of culture, and he works in virtue of them both. Even
in the lowest levels of civilization, however, a notable preeminence of the
cultural influx exists, an influx that defines his evaluation of basic, natural
reality and his behavior in its presence. The distance between the nonin-
tentional and the intentional entity, from the point of view of structure
and activity, is sufficiently large to justify a strict ontological separation.
 Francisco Romero 99

The preintentional psychic field and the intentional psychic field differ
profoundly. No structural difference between the merely intentional and
the spiritual exists, however, because the foundation, the self-world pair
is the same in the second as in the first. Intentional consciousness is the
common field of the purely intentional and the spiritual acts, so that one
cannot speak accurately of a spiritual consciousness that could be
opposed to the other. The spiritual act is an intentional act of a special
kind, an act that not only turns toward objects but is governed by them
and is exhausted in them, though this should be said with the reservations
that will emerge later. What is essential in it is the full objective direction.
In functioning as the agent of such an act, the subject does not change in
what we might call his subjective makeup but rather in his implantation
within reality, in his meaning, in his posture or attitude. One cannot say,
however, that for the subject the spiritual state is only a mode of working
and not a mode of being, because the subject is constituted by his acts,
and what he is depends on the character of his acts, with reference both
to actuality and to acquired habit. The differences to which we have been
referring find support in the awareness that nonintentional acts are easily
distinguished from intentional acts on the basis of external factors,
whereas an intentional act may appear spiritual without being so and vice
versa. At times one may be in error about the nature of one’s own act.
From one point of view, then, the difference is minimal, from another,
and undoubtedly more justified standpoint, however, it is immense. The
difference between the merely intentional act and the spiritual act seems
minimal because many times the two are confused, and the only differ-
ence between them may rest in the final subjectivist intention of the
former and the objectivist intention of the latter—nothing more. But with
the step toward radical objectivism which defines the purely spiritual act,
the natural level is abandoned, and even a particle of the divine—nothing
less—is restored in humanity.
It follows that between the purely intentional and the spiritual there is
an identity of real contexture, but a difference of intention or purpose. In
other words, we might say that there is an identity of matter or content,
but a difference of relation or form. The same occurs in the two previous
strata of reality—the inorganic or physical and the organic or living. The
constitutive matter of the inorganic and the organic is the same. Not one
single component can be discovered in the organic level that cannot be
reduced to elements existing in the physical order. But the relation or form
differs, and, with its functional consequences, it serves in each case to
define the entity, to locate it in the level of organic reality or that of life... .
Passing from pure intentionality to spirituality not only carries with it
a distinction capable of giving shape to a new ontological species, but it
produces one of the greatest separations imaginable. This separation is be-
100 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

tween the two great orders into which reality is divided, that of nature and
spirit, concerning whose heterogeneity something has already been said
and which will be treated extensively in the following pages.
The great distance—a truly unbridgeable abyss—open between nature
and spirit, however, does not hinder our attempt to understand the motive
for the appearance of the latter, with the former serving as a foundation.
The meaning of that appearance will be discussed when we attempt to
establish the relation between spirit and transcendence.
Removed as spirituality may be from natural intentionality, basic
though the noveity be that it introduces into the picture of totality, one
must recognize that it was already present as a possibility, even as a seed,
in the first intentional attitude. What we have referred to as mere inten-
tionality is an imperfect intentionality. In the light of spiritual demands it
even appears as frustrated because the subjective return does not emerge
as a plus, but rather as a decrease in the objectifying intention. In general,
intentionality characteristically constructs objectivities, perceives them,
thinks them, and directs itself toward them in emotional and volitional
movements. The objective direction is thus inherent in intentionality.
What happens before the appearance of the spirit is that the objective
direction, not entirely fulfilled, is delayed by a ballast that hinders its free
advance. That ballast is the structure of the self as a sheaf of individual
interests. Mere intentionality, therefore, is revealed to us as something
incomplete and mutilated, as an impetus of the subject toward what he is
not—an impetus that later weakens and returns to the subject, bringing to
it, one might say, the usable spoils of the object. Basically, the intention
of the subjective return, the “vested or interested interest,” constitutes the
purely intentional act and defines it from the beginning, although this
return may indicate an obstruction of the objectifying impulse. The natu-
ralness of the nonspiritualized intentionality is rooted specifically in the
final reference or the redirecting of the acts toward the self as a particular
center, whereby it shares the particularism that, as we shall soon see,
characterizes everything natural in contradistinction to the radical univer-
salism of the spirit. With its vested interests in the world, the nonspiritu-
alized subject shares in its own way the condition of the organic entity,
which is only interested organically in its surroundings, for its own spe-
cific and individual goals. The attitude is the same, although the actors
and the stage may change. One must admit, however, that although par-
ticularism is the general law of nature, its forms allow for degrees of ex-
tension and dignity, and that intentional particularism at times approaches
spiritual universalism, as when the objectified world is enlarged and the
self broadens into a “we” which may come to include all humanity and
even elements in addition to man which are accepted for purposes of an
interpenetrating sympathy. Many times, no doubt, the self is enlarged and
 Francisco Romero 101

ennobled when it is broadened into a “we,” but any act ultimately referred
to that “we” is purely intentional—though of a superior intentionality—
because the open and cleanly objective direction is basic to the spiritual
act, a projection toward something as “other.”
Thus mere intentionality, which in itself is on a high level in the scale
of reality, on occasions comes to border on the spirit through the broad-
ening of the subject into a “we”—to which, for all practical purposes, the
subject’s acts are referred. The “we” of which we speak here is not the
social complex to which the primitive refers his behavior before he has
lived as a true and individualized subject. Rather, it is the “we” that is
constituted after there has been an actual subject; it is the “we” that pre-
supposes the self. Yet this bordering with the spirit does not suppress the
enormous difference in level between the two. One need only keep in
mind that with the self broadened into a “we” the subjective return is the
same as it was before, except that the center to which the action is
directed has changed. The particularism acquires a much broader base,
but it does not cease to be particularism.
What defines the spiritual act is not that the subject swells and is
enlarged, but that it gives up the subjective return of the act. The notion
of the “we” is always relative: we, the living human beings, Americans,
those of our class, our family, the doctors, the athletes, the contributors,
the pipe smokers—we, who now agree in something and feel bound by
that tie, which can be fundamental or accidental, permanent or tempo-
rary. The notion of pure objectivism, however, which is the mark of the
spiritual state, is absolute. It is the absolute projection toward the other,
conditioned only by the mode of being and of the other (and of the objec-
tified subject itself as an other). In the spiritual state, as well, the subject
has become larger, but in a special sense that is not akin to the broadening
of the circle of concrete interests of the “we.” The subject has become
larger because he has turned loose of his battery of individual interests
and has converted otherness as such into his own interests. He has not
evaporated as a subject, as one might imagine; he has only annulled him-
self as a subject who functions as a single unit, which, for all practical
purposes, redirects every existing thing toward himself. The purely inten-
tional subject works naturally. Nothing is more natural than this: that each
one work according to, and as a function of, what he is with intentions
that terminate in himself because he is a self. The spiritual subject is no
longer a natural entity. It is not natural that a self yield itself definitely to
the other. The spiritual state is freedom, it is evasion. This freedom, this
evasion, is above all the destruction of the walls of particularism that
enclose each self in a private enclosure and, generally speaking, enclose
every natural instance in the special regulation that pertains to it... .
102 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

THE UNIQUENESS AND SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SPIRIT

Traits of the Spirit

The central, founding event of the spiritual act—the projection in this act
of the subject toward the object—has certain consequences and is mani-
fest in certain modes that can be considered as the principal traits of the
spirit. These traits, however, are not to be considered as independent
properties that meet in the spiritual act, as something added to it, forming
part of it, or making it complex; rather they are to be considered as dif-
ferent expressions of its most genuine and profound character, as diverse
aspects of a single reality.
The first of these traits is absolute objectivity, which is the fundamental
condition of this kind of act. The merely intentional act is also of objective
scope because it gives form to objectivities and manipulates them in various
ways; all intentionality is a working with objectivities. But this objectivity is
not absolute. In it the subject functions with the particularism of a living,
intentional being, keeping continuously in mind his particular concrete
being; and this gives a highly subjective quality to his act. The subjective
interest imposes its direction on the intentional glance: heightening some
aspects of the object and darkening others, it circumscribes the realm of
objectivities according to its own standard. In addition, the object is given
in a modified form because the practical intention of the subject is included
in it. It is understood as “something for the subject,” and to the extent that
this occurs, it diminishes or annuls the autonomous condition of the object,
which is an undeniable part of it and on occasion the fundamental aspect,
since the object can signify its own unchangeable meaning, its very heart.
In spiritual or absolute objectivity, the whole object is objectified, without
its being altered with subjective innovations, and without neglecting the
ultimate and independent significance of anything that is not the object
itself. Knowledge of a spiritual kind is concerned with what is only because
it is; the interest thus projected toward the object deserves the characteri-
zation “disinterested,” because it is not governed by any interest peculiar to
the agent, but rather by an interest engendered in the agent by the mere fact
of the object’s existing or by its being given. In ethical behavior, a given
objective situation may be disvalued in a moral judgment, or the attempt
may be made to correct it through actual intervention. But this is not equiv-
alent to an interference of subjective particularism in the objective situation;
rather the subject, facing a complex situation characterized by a conflict or
an encounter with something given as real and something considered as an
objective value or duty, decides for the latter—that is, for an order he rec-
ognizes as justified and valuable above the given reality.
 Francisco Romero 103

Absolute spiritual objectivity does not permit the elimination of the

subject as the terminal for its acts, but it does permit the elimination of
the subject as a complex of subjective interests. The spiritual subject does
not deny itself; rather it recognizes in itself an objectivity parallel to
others. It is doubtlessly concerned with itself, but only as its being and
meaning are conceived objectively.
Universality is another trait of the spirit; it has already served to dis-
tinguish the spirit from nature because of the particularism that is akin to
everything natural. The spirit is universal in various ways, and all these
stem from total objective projection. The subject, deprived of actual ref-
erence to itself, of the intention of redirecting everything to its own con-
crete being, feels universalized, cleansed from any existential particu-
larism. This universality does not mean self-denial, as was indicated pre-
viously; on the contrary, the subject lives with a new intensity in this new
situation, which, at the same time that it opens him to reality, in a sense
brings the whole of reality to him... .
The freedom characteristic of the spirit, which Max Scheler considers
to be one of the three traits that define it, is only the evasion of natural
particularism; it is autonomy with regard to the interests and incentives of
the living human being as a single concrete entity. Freedom, therefore, is
absolute objectivism and universalism as viewed from the relation of the
spiritual subject to the nonspiritual subject that sustains it and with which
it lives. One should keep in mind that, properly speaking, it is not a matter
of the spirit’s independence from “life” in the biological sense—from the
strictly organic and animal complex—because the section of nature most
closely related to the spirit is not organic nature, but intentional nature.
The freedom of the spirit is affirmed against the propensities and attitudes
of what we have called the natural man—the man subject to intentional,
nonspiritualized acts. It is not opposed to some animal-man who does not
exist in the human race. The essential duality of man is rooted precisely
in the difference and the frequent conflict between the natural condi-
tioning of what is merely intentional and the freedom of the spirit or, what
amounts to the same thing, between full subjectivism and full objec-
tivism, between particularism and universalism... .
From this radical objectivism also stems a unity of the spirit, which is
primarily perceivable in the most general and consolidated spiritual atti-
tudes, such as the cognitive and the ethical attitudes. .. .
The historicity of the spirit has been previously discussed. The spirit
has a historical source; it emerges in a determined season, probably when
the merely intentional function has been consolidated. Spiritual acts are
absolute—that is, they either have the distinctive features or they are not
spiritual acts. But their “habitualness,” their frequency, is undoubtedly a
historical conquest... .
104 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

Respect and interest (the “disinterested interest”) are the secondary

traits of the spirit. The spirit respects everything and is interested in every-
thing, and obvious signs of the absence of spirit are lack of respect and
indifference with regard to beings and things. The pragmatic stamp that
mere intentional consciousness imposes on its objectifications is a lack of
respect for what they are in themselves and a lack of interest in their own,
nontransferable character. From a certain point of view, to behave spiritu-
ally is to be aware that everything is worthy of respect and everything is
interesting. Philosophy, pure science, and art are born of a disinterested
interest in things, of a respect for what is and for what is imagined. It is
not difficult to discover in the moral attitude the confluence of the high
potential of interest and respect. For common eyes the only hierarchy of
beings and things is that given by reasons which pertain to the practical
order... :
Responsibility is a trait of the spirit that has received little attention.
There is a feeling of responsibility that tends to reach very elevated forms
and, though not belonging to the sphere of the spirit, almost borders on
it. We do not refer to the responsibility that primitive man experiences
toward his group, for he is hardly individualized; rather it is that felt by
the subject when he lives as an identical and continuous self. This respon-
sibility to one’s own individuality, to one’s own life as reality, whether as
fictionally imagined or as projected, at times reaches the heroic and the
sacrificial. The same is true of responsibility with respect to others when
a solid nexus of interests and affection exists. Spiritual responsibility has
special characteristics. The responsibility of the subject to himself as a
spiritual subject, as a person, presupposes responsibility to other persons
conceived as entities of equal worth. The spirit, as we have repeatedly
stated, is an absolutely objective projection, and it feels, as an intimate
obligation, that it must act as such... .
Self-consciousness has been considered by Max Scheler as one of the
three principal traits of the spirit. But self-consciousness is not an exclu-
sive attribute of the spirit. In nonspiritualized intentionality, self-con-
sciousness is to be found as soon as the subject is firmly constituted as a
self. An unprecedented intensification of subjective interests tends to rein-
force self-consciousness without taking into account that there are more
or less morbid psychic dispositions that turn the subject toward himself
and stir up a watchful and even exasperated self-consciousness. In gen-
eral, the adolescent, the timid person, and the introvert turn toward their
own inner reality. There is also a frankly pathological complacency in
self-contemplation in some psychic types (the one who analyzes himself,
the one who feels sorry for himself, the one who suffers from an excess
of intense scruples, the one who feels inferior) that leads to a constant
probing and, as a result, an exaggerated self-consciousness which
 Francisco Romero 105

abounds in erroneous interpretations and a defective appreciation of the

context in reality in which the self is found... .
Finally, we hold absolute transcendence to be the essential trait of the
spirit.

Spirit as Absolute Transcending

As we have repeatedly asserted, the fundamental difference between the

spiritual act and the merely intentional act consists in the fact that the
former is directed toward its object without a subjective return, whereas
the latter has a subjective intent, a subordination of the object to the par-
ticular goals of the subject. Such a difference may also be expressed by
saying that the nonspiritual act is transcendent to the extent that it has an
undeniable, objective direction inseparable from its intentional character.
Yet it partly denies or shifts its transcendence by referring the object, in
one way or another, to the interests of the subject. The spiritual act, how-
ever, is absolutely transcendent because it goes out to the object and
remains with it, in no way actually referring the object to the existential
uniqueness of the subject.
The spiritual act thus achieves pure transcendence. Its reference to the
subject is only the inevitable connection between the subject and his
Beiuh.n.
The absolute transcendence and the full objectivism of the spiritual
act come to be the same thing. But the introduction of the notions of
transcendence and immanence makes possible the sounding of the spiri-
tual act to its very depths, the placing of it in relation to metaphysical
hypotheses that help in understanding its place and meaning in totality. It
also offers a new interpretation of values that recognizes their objectivity
without falling into the error of disconnecting the realm of values from
that of being, an error incurred by most axiological systems of an objec-
tivist bent.
Although, as we have indicated, absolute transcendence and complete
objectivism come to be the same thing, strictly speaking they are not
identical. In our opinion, absolute transcendence is primary, basic, and
original in the spiritual act. Thus, one should not say that an act is fully
transcendent and objective, rather that it is completely transcendent; and,
as a consequence, it is completely objective, because absolute transcen-
dence is what provides the foundation for complete objectivity. In the
merely intentional act the transcending toward the object is accompanied
by the domination of the subject as a cluster of interests which leads to
the modification of the object, its practical subordination to the subject.
The transcendence is, therefore, weak and incomplete, and it is ultimately
defeated by the subjective demands. In the spiritual act, transcendence
106 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

works without obstacles or limitations; its strength yields to no opposi-

tion. The spiritual subject is the one who is identified and the one who
coincides with the transcending impulse of the act. The objectivity is a
direct expression of that transcendence, of the lack of subjective return;
and all other qualities of the spiritual act, as they have been previously set
forth, can be equally understood as manifestations or consequences of
absolute transcendence.
Something will be said later concerning transcendence in general and
freedom. Transcendence is always a setting free and, in its turn, freedom
is a mode or an aspect of transcendence. The constitution of the inten-
tional order undoubtedly points to the appearance of a regime that is
much freer than the organic order. The intentional individual enjoys an
autonomy superior to that of the animal... .
As for self-consciousness, lived though its content may be, it is only
conceivable through “reflection,” by the return of the subject to itself. The
subject goes out of itself in order to fall back on itself; it is the point of
departure and the destination of the act. Self-possession confers on the
self a dual role, as possessor and as possession. However it occurs, it pre-
supposes that the subject steps out of himself in order to return again, to
himself. This going out of oneself is a transcending of oneself. And in the
same manner as we have already done for freedom, we must distinguish
here between restricted and total transcendence, between a transcendence
that later becomes immanent and a pure or spiritual transcendence. There
is a transcendence accompanied by a tendency to immanence when the
reflection which grants the self-consciousness does not take the subject
out of the natural level; when in it and through it the subject continues to
live, in an absolute sense, as the supreme reality to which everything else,
for all practical purposes, must be subjected. There is spiritual self-con-
sciousness when the subject, as he transcends in his reflection of himself,
perceives himself in full objectivity—which is close yet at the same time
distant—and therefore can possibly refer to himself with that “disinter-
ested interest” of which full objectivity consists. The reflective transcen-
dence that this self-consciousness affords is obviously absolute.

Spirit in the Context of a Metaphysics of Transcendence

Reality is arranged on four different levels or orders: the physical or in-

organic level; the level of life; the level of intentional psychism; and the
level of the spirit. Each is the foundation of the level that follows it,
emerges from it, feeds on it, and surpasses it. A notable increase in tran-
scendence is evident in this succession of levels. One can best imagine a
pure immanence on the physical level here, transcendence is least visible.
It is at this point that the attempts at a strict rationalist interpretation have
 Francisco Romero 107

felt the preference for “downward explanations,” that is, for the idea that
the physical order is the only one with substantial or metaphysical worth
and that all the rest is a manifestation of the physical, a mere accidental
result of the interplay of matter. Transcendence is quite evident in life.
Living beings are active centers of transcendence, not only as individuals
and species but, above all, as they make up the whole current of life, mul-
tiplying on the inorganic level as they colonize it. Living beings succeed
and reproduce through the series of generations in which the progenitors
transcend themselves and seem to continue to transcend themselves, even
after they have disappeared, through the continuity of a vital message
entrusted to the farthest reaches of time. In intentional psychism transcen-
dence is even more evident: intentionality consists precisely in the tran-
scendence toward the object. The subject is the point of departure of innu-
merable, continuous transcending acts, and the horizon for such acts is
practically unlimited because everything is objectifiable—everything is or
may be the target of intentions. The whole of reality with all its elements,
real and nonreal, has been converted into a stage where the intentional
individual acts out his role, which consists of nothing other than acts of
intentionality, of transcendence. This transcendence, however, is not com-
plete. The intentional individual refers his acts to himself; as an existing
individual, he holds himself to be the ultimate concern to whom all his acts
are tied by the bonds of his own interest. Such a limitation or relativization
of transcendence disappears in the spiritual attitude, so that all actual ref-
erence of the act to the subject is severed—except that the act still remains
that of the subject. The subject, we might say, is the point of departure of
the act but not its goal; this is true, however, of the purely intentional act,
because of the concrete and individual interest in the purpose of the act.
The spiritual subject, therefore, is a focus of pure transcendences; in him
transcendence reaches its highest possible attainment. The animating
thrust of the whole of reality thereby achieves its triumph and functions
with total autonomy, free from any remainder of immanence. This func-
tioning consists in reaching out to the whole of reality, unhindered by
bonds or compulsions; it consists in turning in a special way toward one-
self as the informing principle of reality, in cognitively apprehending one-
self and in achieving an ethical wholeness with oneself. . . .
The three orders of reality that form an echelon above the physical
level reveal a gradual increase in transcendence. There is more tran-
scending on the organic than on the physical level, on the intentional than
the organic level, and on the spiritual than the merely intentional level.
Spiritual transcendence indicates the apex and does not allow for a higher
level; it is absolute and total transcendence. Spiritual acts are defined by
their completely objective direction, and the spiritual focus—the subject—
is immediately identified with his acts. As self-consciousness, the subject
108 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

is constituted through acts of pure, reflected transcendence, which do not

form kernels of immanence. Spiritual self-consciousness is fully objective,
and the only “lived” factor found in it is the direct impression of tran-
scendence, which is the specific feeling that accompanies every spiritual
act. One might conclude from this that when the concretely immanent dis-
appears from the subject, all effective individuation also disappears. But
we have already made clear that transcendence is not the annulling of the
center that transcends, rather it is action that stems from that center, a
going beyond oneself without ceasing to be that self. Spiritual individu-
ality is assured by the unity and continuity of the subject, by its reflexive
reference to itself, and by the distinctness of the spiritual processes, so far
as they form an organic complex that constitutes the activity and experi-
ence appropriate to each self... .

DUALITY

Duality is the constitutive event of the complete man. The being we prop-
erly refer to as man, who has a destiny, who develops historically and is
determined by individual and group motivations—yet he also obeys cer-
tain demands that are foreign to these motivations which shape an ideal
order—this being, we say, is fundamentally a dual entity. In principle we
have maintained that man is created when the intentional function is nor-
mally organized, bringing with it the appearance of the subject, the con-
stitution of an objective world for him, and the elaboration of culture with
the indispensable, objectified creations. All this carries with it something
new with respect to the animal kingdom, and it is sufficient to provide for
man’s separation from the zoological scale, justifying that a new section
within the bounds of reality be marked out for him. If what is human
rested solely on intentionality,2 as defined in Part One of this book, that
special section kept apart for man would be within the natural sphere.
When intentionality is dispossessed of spiritual demands, it is no more
than the highest expression of natural activity. From his beginning, how-
ever, man is capable of spirit, and he seems to be gifted with spirituality
from the first stages of history. Perhaps what we currently call history is
the human process beginning with the emergence of the spirit. The man
we know, and the one to whom we attribute the characteristics which
define the species, is man with the spirit, though we do not absolutely
exclude the existence of men lacking in spirituality. The complete, finished
man, not some fiction or idealized image, but a historical reality, is he
who comes to us as a complex in which mere intentionality and spirit
alternate and are joined together. Man permanently deprived of the spirit
may subsist in the lowest levels of the species, in the midst of embryonic
 Francisco Romero 109

cultures or even sporadically located in middle and high cultures. In any

case, at least in some degree, the spirit is indispensable if we are to rec-
ognize what it is in man that we call human in the full sense.
Without spirit, man is already something more—rather, much more
than an animal. He is a subject who through his continued, subjective
activity is converted into a self; he contemplates and conceives a world of
objectivities which is extended in space and time and which leads him to
live, taking into consideration what is present, what has happened, and
what is foreseen, and is thus in keeping with the past and the future. He
makes use of the rich accumulation of objectifications of the community,
which he receives through significant language, and he creates and uses
culture, which in its elemental forms does not necessarily presuppose the
spirit. There is nothing similar to this in the animal kingdom. Natural
man, or man without spirit, is, then, a being different from any organic
entity, because he encloses his organic life in, and makes it conform to,
intentional lines, in keeping with the general situation traced by the enu-
merated elements whose extraorganic character seems quite evident.
Demanding as the biological requirements may be for natural man, they
echo throughout a structure which imposes its own special mode of being
upon them. Preintentional psychism comes to be an echo or a psychical
modulation of the organic realm. Intentional psychism responds to its own
laws and is governed by them, strong as the organic ingredients may be
that are introduced in it.
As was stated, spiritual projection is latent in intentionality.
Intentionality perceives objectively, it recognizes what is perceived as sub-
sisting. The spirit radically strengthens the objectification, showing that
what is objectified enjoys a fullness of being and autonomy when con-
fronting the objectifying subject, making it possible for the latter to act
without the subjective return. In order to understand the significance and
scope of spirituality in man, one must keep in mind that it does not con-
sist of a principle completely alien to his primitive nature. It does not con-
sist of an element which comes to primitive human reality from the out-
side and is inserted into it in some mysterious manner. We might say that
it is the fulfillment of the promises contained in the most unpretentious
intentional attitudes; it is the completion of what was already present as
a seed in the first objectifying acts.
However, this does not set aside the radical difference between mere
intentionality and spirituality, for this difference points to a profound
break between the spirit and all natural reality. With the spirit, a new
order in reality is established; the enclosure of each part of reality within
itself, which is characteristic of nature, is broken, and centers heedful of
totality are organized, centers which lean toward totality, receiving it in
keeping with their universality. Stated in another way, they are centers
110 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

which transcend themselves and radiate to every horizon, giving whole-

hearted attention to whatever is, through different spiritual attitudes yet
without being dissolved or even weakened thereby, but rather purifying
and strengthening their condition as personal centers. Spirituality, as we
have already seen, imposes a complete inversion in the direction of the
interest of the subject, whose behavior changes, through the work of the
spirit, from subjectivism to full objectivism, from particularism to univer-
salism, from partial to absolute transcendence.
The duality of man is a fact widely recognized in religious and philo-
sophical concepts... .

NOTES
1. [Romero uses the word “psychism” and its adjectival form “psychical”
with a meaning similar to that developed by Brentano. Husserl’s discussion on pp.
249-50 of his Ideas (New York: Macmillan, 1931), clarifies the use of this termi-
nology.—Trans. |
2. Personal spirituality is always intentionality. For the sake of convenience,
when we use the word “intentionality” by itself, we are referring to what at other
times we have called mere intentionality—that is, an intentionality not spiritual-
ized.
Risieri Frondizi
(1910-1983)

Pens belonged to that generation of Latin American philosophers

born around 1910 whose contributions to philosophy began in the
1940s. His writings are not extensive, but his work was sound, original,
and stated in a meticulously clear style. This last characteristic was the
result, at least in part, of the contact he maintained with Anglo-Saxon phi-
losophy.
Frondizi was born in Posadas, Argentina, in 1910. His education, how-
ever, took place in Buenos Aires, where he received the degree of pro-
fessor of philosophy in 1935. He also received a master of arts from the
University of Michigan in 1943 and the doctorate in philosophy from the
National Autonomous University of Mexico in 1950. Some of his graduate
work was done at Harvard, where he studied under A. N. Whitehead, C. I.
Lewis, and R. B. Perry, among others. In 1933 he studied in Buenos Aires
with Romero, with whom he maintained a close relationship until
Romero’s death.
His teaching career began at the University of Tucuman in 1938, where
he also served as chair of the department of philosophy and letters for two
years (1938-40). In 1946 he was forced to abandon the country for polit-
ical reasons. During this period he was visiting professor of philosophy at
the Central University of Venezuela (1947-48) and the Universities of
Pennsylvania (1948-49), Yale (1949-50), Puerto Rico (1951-54), and
Columbia (1955). He returned to Argentina in 1955 and resumed his
teaching responsibilities as professor at the Universities of La Plata
(1955-56) and Buenos Aires (1956-66). In the latter university he was
elected dean of the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters (1957) and president
of the university for two terms (1957-62). His heavy involvement in uni-
versity reform forced him to relinquish his philosophical work for a time.

111
112 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

When the military government of Onganja put an end to the autonomy of

the university, he resigned from his positions in protest, and acceptéd posi-
tions at the University of California in Los Angeles (1956-68), the Univer-
sity of Texas (1968-69), and the University of Southern Illinois at Carbon-
dale. He retired in 1979, but subsequently was appointed distinguished
visiting professor at Baylor University, a post he held until his death.
The importance of Frondizi’s work both within Latin America and
internationally was recognized on various occasions. He was elected pres-
ident of the Inter-American Society of Philosophy and of the Argentine
Philosophical Society as well as a member of the executive council of the
International Federation of Societies of Philosophy and of the International
Institute of Philosophy in Paris. In addition he was a member of the Insti-
tute of Advanced Studies at Princeton and lectured at several of the most
important universities in both Americas and at leading European univer-
sities. In 1980 twenty philosophers from around the world presented him
with a volume in his honor entitled Man and His Conduct and published
by the University of Puerto Rico Press.
His main works were published in several editions: El punto de par-
tida del filosofar (1945-57); Substancia y funcion en el problema del yo
(1952-70, also under the title El yo como estructura dindmica); and ;Qué
son los valores? (1958: Sth ed., 1972). The last two works also appeared
in English as The Nature of the Self (1953, 1971), and What Is Value?
(1963, 1971). In addition, he published approximately fifty articles on var-
ious philosophical topics and several books on the mission of the univer-
sity in Latin America (1971).
In Frondizi’s first work we are able to find a general sketch of his
thought. He maintains that philosophy is the theory of human experience
constituted by the self, its activity, and objects. In the book devoted to the
problem of the self, he is opposed to Descartes’s substantialism as well as
Hume’s atomism, and develops a concept of the self as a dynamic struc-
ture. Later he applied this approach to the study of values, taking a posi-
tion opposed to both axiological subjectivism and objectivism. For Fron-
dizi, value is a structural quality that emerges in the relationship between
the subject and its objects and is present in every situation. His axiology
leads to a situational ethics, although in his judgment this does not imply
an ethical relativism. On the contrary, the existence of an axiological hier-
archy for every situation strengthens ethical feeling as well as human cre-
ative activity.
 The Nature of the Self

THE BEING AND THE DOING OF THE SELF

|Deore shows us that the self does not depend upon any obscure
make
te or hidden substantial core but depends upon what it does, has done,
Tproposes to do, or is able to do. The self isrevealed in itsaction; it reveals
$ itself and constitutes itself by acting. It is nothing before acting, and
@ nothing remains of it if experiences cease completely. Its esse is equivalent 2s sencec

to its facere. We iare not given a eI -made self;

erie Our behavior—in which both
our actual doing aa our intentions should properly be included—is not
an expression of our self but the very stuff which constitutes it.
What holds experiences together, what gives us personality, is not,
therefore, a substantial bond but a functional one, a coordinated structure
of activities. The self is not something already made but something
that is
. It is formed throughout the course of its life, just as
any institution is formed—a family, a university, a nation. There is no abo-
riginal nucleus of the self that exists prior to its actions; the self arises and
takes on existence as it acts, as it undergoes experiences. The category of
substance must be supplanted by that of function if we wish to interpret
adequately the nature of the self. The concept of function connotes, in this
case, the concepts of activity, process, and relation.
The functional link by no means includes only our past experiences.
The self is memory, but it is not memory alone. Our personality depends se** pr
upon what has happened to us, but it cannot be reduced to our personal »?* ee
history; the self is not the blind aggregate of our experiences. We get the ™ is
From Risieri Frondizi, The Nature of the Self (Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press, 1971),
pp. 145-47, 158-63, 170-77, 181-84, 188-93, 197-200. Reprinted by permission of the author.

ES
 114 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

push of the past, but we also get the pull of the future. There is, in the
self, a note of novelty and creativity, a free will, an ability to control the
eventual course of our experiences. (Activity,) therefore, contains an ele-
ment of novelty; it cannot be grasped or comprehended by referring exclu-
sively to its past. The self is not inert matter, deposited on the shore by
the tide of experience, but creative will, plotting its own course for itself.

rit ng to It is memory but memory pro-

jected toward the ane memory hurled ahead. The future conditions the
nature of our self not only as it merges with the present but also while it
is still more distantly future. What we plan to do, even if we never get to
do it, gives sense to our activities. The future, however, is not a part of our
self merely as a system of ideas and intentions; it also enters into the for-
In times of confusion and dis-
2 aster the thought of the future of our country, our child, our own lives
: grieves us. Though it is true that this suffering is a present and not a future
. experience, its object is the future. It is like the pain caused by a splinter;
“the pain is not the splinter, but it could not exist without the presence of
the splinter. Hope, despair, and many other experiences would be impos-
A
uc
sible if the future were not an element in our lives.
¢
2 The self is a function already performed but also a function to be ful-
3 & filled, a capacity, a potentiality. Our being consists of what we have done
but also of what we intend and are able to do. The past creates ability; the
ability gives a sense of direction to the past. Even the capacity that was
never realized, the potentiality that never had the chance of becoming
actual, forms an integral part of our self.
iaeet
+ |
b/w = The past and the future of the self are not, strictly speaking, separable
eseank parts; they form an indissoluble whole. The past acquires meaning in the
light of the future; the future, in turn, depends upon the past. We cannot
do whatever we want; our abilities depend upon our past experiences.
Some people have denied the dynamic character of the self or have
relegated it to a position of secondary importance, thinking it to be incom-
patible with its unity. Unable to conceive of the unity of a changing being,
they have considered that the process of alteration of the self only
t COY\ scratches its surface and that the self keeps an immutable central core. It
altered is true that there is only one Ego for each experiential stream, but it is also
true that the veldesma We have seen that the self is constantly
changing, that everything that happens to us enriches and modifies our
self. But change does not mean substitution; rather, it means an alteration
of the inner pattern. Thus, former experiences never quite disappear com-
pletely, though they can change their nature and meaning with the devel-
opment of the self.
 Ristert Frondizi Heals}

ANALYSIS AND ANALYTICISM

As is well known, the method that is used conditions the nature of the
object under observation. If, blinded by the prestige acquired by the sci-
entific method, we commit the stupid blunder of the modern tourist who
tries to examine under the microscope a city which he is visiting for the
first time, we shall not succeed in seeing the houses, the people, the
plants, and the flowers. It would imply an even greater blindness to main-
tain that in the city there are neither houses nor people nor flowers,
without realizing that they have oUt as a a oe o the
instrument chosen. al ca rum

The analytic method has often worked like a microscope. It has

revealed details which no one had ever seen before, but it has impeded
our view of the whole. Again, the naked eye and the free-ranging glances
of the spirit are superior to the intellect provided with the perfected tech-
nique and instruments of analysis. We need only to glance within, if we
hold no prejudicial theories, to see what is hidden from the philosophers
using analytic methods and blinded by the postulates of their theory and
by their technique of observation.
Why should we be surprised that the wholes are not perceived if it has
already been accepted in advance that analysis is the only form of appre-
hension? That which has been previously eliminated cannot be discov-
ered, and it is impossible to reconstruct what should never have been
destroyed.
The analytic philosophy which sprang from Hume’s atomism is sub-
ject to an almost demoniac desire for destruction—destruction
by reduc-

J
‘tions. When confronted by a whole, these philosophers make no effort to
comprehend its nature and find the sense of the whole. They proceed
immediately to chop the whole into as many parts as possible
submit each part to the thoroughgoing test of analysis. It is like the little
boy who wants to find out what makes his toy work and ends up defiantly
facing a heap of loose nuts and bolts.
This destructive drive is based upon a metaphysical postulate from
which another postulate, an epistemological one, is derived; these two
postulates support what we might call “the fallacy ofreduction.” The
metaphysical postulate may be stated thus: elements have a more actual
reality than wholes. The epistemological consequence is obvious: the goal
of philosophic knowledge is to come to grips with the basic elements
which constitute reality.
From these two postulates a series of principles is derived and condi-
116 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

tions the whole attitude of the analytic philosophers. There are two prin-
ciples which particularly concern us in the study which we are making:
(a) that the “parts” or elements can be separated from the “whole”
without undergoing any change; (b) that these elements can be discovered
by analysis and defined in such a way that leaves no room for doubt... .
I am not proposing, of course, the abandonment of analysis as a philo-
sophic method. It is not clear how analysis could be abandoned without
falling into an attitude of contemplative mysticism, which would bring as
its immediate consequence greater confusion and obscurity to the field of
philosophy. What I am criticizing is if we may so call it,
which, —aitinleianmmsiafeeatcenialysiste 3
re eee the Tenn & a complex reality whose unity is
destroyed when its component members are separated. It can be used in the
realm of psychic life with a great deal of profit and very little danger, pro-
vided that one is constantly aware of its limitations and consequences and
never loses sight of the fact that the elements which have been separated
by analysis are members of a totality which must, of necessity, remain
united. Analysis should therefore be -used—always, of course, keeping the
totality in mind—only in order to make clear the meaning of the whole and
to comprehend |its inner mechanism, 1not in order to eliminate the whole or
reduce it to a heap of disjointed pieces. Hence analysis should be applied to
a structure only after the structure has been taken in and recognized as a
whole; reality should not be sacrificed to the method used. . .
The analytic attitude is moreover complemented by a mechanical con-
ception of the psychic life which tries to “explain” everything by means of
simple elements and the forces that move them. When the psychic life has
been put together again in this way, it has lost its organic unity, its
spontaneity, its very life—all that characterizes the human being. Hence
the final result seems more like a robot than a man: the parts that make
it up remain unalterable, and the forces that move it are completely
mechanical. The process of reconstruction cannot give us what analysis
has previously destroyed—the organic coherence of the inner life. Recon-
struction is neither necessary nor possible, for this organic unity is a pri-
mary reality and not the conclusion of a system.

THE CONCEPT OF GESTALT

What is the self before its unity has been broken down by analysis? In
what does its organic or structural unity consist?
Let us first make clear that this unityisnot one that transcends the
empirical world, the world of experiences. It is a unity derived from the
 Ristert Frondizt 117

very experiences themselves. There is nothing under or above the totality

of experiences. If one overlooks the word “totality” or interprets it in an
atomistic sense, this statement would be equivalent of subscribing to
Hume’s theory. But we should never interpret the totality or structure of
experiences aS a mere sum or aggregate of the same. The experiential
totality has qualities which are not possessed by the members which con-
stitute it. Consequently the characteristics of the total structure of the self
cannot be deduced, necessarily, from the characteristics of each of the
experiences taken separately. .. .
What is it that characterizes a Gestait Like any other fundamental
concept, that of Gestalt presents a degree of complexity which does not
allow one to enunciate in a few words all the richness of its content.
Nevertheless, there are certain characteristics which seem to be funda-
mental. First, there is the one that has already been emphasized: a struc-
—a Gestalt—has qualities not possessed by any of the ele-
ments which form it. In this sense, a Gestalt or structure is set in contrast
with a mere sum of elements. The physical and chemical qualities of a eporral
cubic yard of water are the same as those of each ee that makes it up. (3 @ st alt
The whole, in this case, re j im of its parts des - |
|
case of a structure, on the other hand, this is not So, aS we havesseen in aoe)

considering the character of a melody; it possesses ties whi bey ore

ie
notes, for it can be enti riiere Sing Tes ene
‘ ‘

changed into another melody.

The above-mentioned characteristic does not mean, of course, that a
Gestalt is completely independent of the members which constitute it. In
the first place, there can be no structure without members. But the depen-
dence of structure upon members does not stop here—the removal, addi-
tion, or fundamental alteration of a member modifies the whole structure,
as can be seen in the case of an organism. Any important alteration or
suppression of a member alters the totality of an organism and may even
cause its disappearance. This does not happen in the case of a sum. We
can remove one, two, thirty, or forty gallons of water without causing the
rest to undergo any important change in quality.
But not only does the structural whole suffer alteration when one of
its members is taken away, the member that is taken away is also basically
altered. A hand separated from the body is unable to feel or to seize an
object—it ceases to be a hand—whereas the gallon of water separated
from the rest retains practically all of its properties. This characteristic,
taken along with the foregoing ©
one, wall suffice for the definition of a
member of a structure. nel ture is that which cannot _be
removed without affecting the whole structure and losing its own nature
when separated from the “whole.” Conversely, we can characterize the
“mere sum” as something made up of “parts” or “elements” that undergo
118 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

no change when joined to other “parts” and which can be removed

without producing any change either in itself or in what remains. The rela-
tionship between the parts is that of mere juxtaposition.
The difference between structure and mere sum does not stem solely
from the fact that the parts of the latter are independent of the whole and
that the members of the former are conditioned by the structure. There is
also the fact that the parts may be homogeneous, whereas the members
must offer diversity and even opposition of characteristics. One gallon of
water is just as much water as any other gallon or measure. The same is
true of one brick in a pile of bricks or of each grain of sand in the desert.
On the contrary, in an organism each member has its own specific nature—
the heart is the heart and cannot perform the functions of the liver or kid-
neys. There is not only diversity among the members but also opposition;
and this opposition is subsumed into the unity which organizes them. The
unification and organization of the members which make up a structure do
not come about at the expense of the peculiar and distinctive qualities of
each member. Organization is not the equivalent of homogenization, and
unity does not contradict the multiplicity and diversity of the elements. This
multiplicity and diversity must_always be maintained as absolutely essen-
tial. Thus we find structure to be the result of a dialectic play of opposites,
of a struggle between the members; it seems to hang by the thread which
establishes a dynamic balance. But this unity is not of an abstract sort. A
concept which organizes different members into a unity by grouping them
in agreement with a common note does not constitute a structure. One
essential aspect of the structure is lacking: its unity must be concrete. For
that reason I use the term “structure” rather than “form” or “configuration”
to translate the German word Gestalt, which, besides carrying the connota-
tion of these two latter concepts, designates a unity that is concrete.

THE STRUCTURAL UNITY OF THE SELF

When we considered the applicability of the category of substance to the

self, we noticed that none of the three classic characteristics of this con-
cept—immutability, simplicity, andi independence—belonged to the self.
We obtained a similarly negative result from the consideration of the atom-
istic conception. In the first place, the supposed psychic atom is a poorly
defined unit which, when one attempts to fix it with any precision, van-
ishes into thin air, becoming a mere arbitrary instant in an uninterrupted
process. In the second place, the aggregation of atoms, which can have
only a relationship of juxtaposition one to another, looks like a grotesque
caricature of the real organic unity of the self. Let us now see if the cate-
gory which we have called Gestalt or structure is any more successful.
 Ristert Frondizt 119

It seems unquestionable that the psychic life is not chaotic, that each
state or experience is connected to all the rest. This connection, however,
is not of experience to experience, like the links of a chain, for if this were
so there would be a fixed order of connections and in order to get to one
link we should necessarily have to go by wor of ns oudalk ones. But
in the same way that Kohler showed here tant r
response,
ulus and it would be easy to shou that in
j maine
manner there is no constant relation between one experience and another.
No laboratory experiment is needed to prove this, for our daily experi-
ences supply all the material we require—the sound and sight of the sea
is exhilarating one day and depressing the next; the same piece of music
arouses in us different reactions according to the situation in which we
hear it; our arrival at the same port and in the same ship can start alto-
gether different trains of reflection in us, depending on whether we have
arrived to stay for the rest of our life or only for a short vacation; the
memory of a disagreement with a friend, which irritated us so much when
cae
it may now ane oo anse eaalsasue Seer

~_
These undeniable data of the eile tigerare founded on the fact that

tion structure—in
but a the sense defined above; whatever happens to one
of its elements affects the whole, and the whole in turn exerts an influ-
ence upon each element. It is because the whole reacts as a structural ¥
unity and not as a mechanism that a stimulus can provoke consequences
in an altogether different field from the one in which it has arisen. Thus,
a strictly intellectual problem can give rise to emotional torment, and a
fact of an emotional sort can have far-reaching volitional consequences.
The self is not departmentalized—like modern bureaucracy—but consti-
tutes an organic unity with intimate, complex, and varied interrelations.
The self presents itself, then, as an organized whole, an integrated
structure, and experiences are related to one another not through but
within the whole. For that reason, when the structure is modified the
nature of the experiences and of the relationships between them are also
modified. The interdependence of the different experiential groups shows
that the self is a structure which is organized and “makes sense” and that
each member occupies its proper place within the structure.
This does not mean, of course, that the structure which constitutes
the self cannot be analyzed and broken down, theoretically, into less com-
plex structures. It does mean, however, that we are in fact dealing with a
unity that is formed upon substructuresand the intimate and complex
interrelation of these substructures.!
And here we notice another characteristic of the concept of structure
 120 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

which is directly applicable to the self: the members of a structure are het-
erogeneous in contrast with the homogeneity of the parts of a non-
structural unity. Let us state, first of all, that the structure which consti-
tutes the self, being a very complex structure, is made up not of “simple
members” but of substructures; it is consequently to the heterogeneity of
these substructures that we are referring. It must also be kept in mind that
the substructures are not of an abstract nature, like concepts, and that we
are not trying to reconstruct a reality by juxtaposing abstractions such as
the so-called faculties of the soul.
The complexity and heterogeneity of the structure are twofold: on the
one hand there is the complexity which we may call
transversal; on the
other there is the horizontal or, better, the temporal complexity. In actu-
terogerss
he

ality the self embraces the combination of both complexes, which do not
and cannot exist in separation... .
This diversity and opposition among the elements which constitute
the self should not lead us to forget the unity which characterizes every
structure. The self is no exception. Its multiplicity does not exclude its
unity or vice versa. And this is not the abstract unity of a concept which
points to what is common; it is a concrete unity, of “flesh and blood” as
Unamuno would say, for there is nothing more real and concrete than our
self. Diversity underlies the structure but is in turn lost within it, for the
elements uphold each other mutually in an intimate sort of interweaving
in which it is impossible to distinguish warp from woof. This is not
because the three types of substructure have equivalent strength and no
one of them dominates the other two—as in the theory of the so-called
balance of power—but because they vary constantly. At a given moment
\ver one element stands forth as the figure and the others form the ground;
after a while there is a change of roles. These changes are explained by
the fact that the self is a dynamic structure and thus resembles a sym-
phony rather than a painting.
We should perhaps stress the point that the changes undergone by the
self are not due exclusively to a different distribution of the members, for
tie
ae
ES
cla
Ads
Ce
the members themselves are of a dynamic nature. Moreover, the self is
constituted not only of members but also of the tensions produced by the
reciprocal play of influences. The breakdown of the equilibrium of ten-
Aas
"N sions is what generally produces the most important changes.
rNemse
syulostweture
ane
It now appears obvious that the relations between the experiences are
not fixed, for each experience as it is incorporated into the structure mod-
ifies its former state. This member in turn undergoes the influence of the
whole, which is another characteristic of a Gestalt easy to find in the self.
Thus, the perceptions which we have at this moment depend upon our
former state. The new experience immediately acquires the coloration
given it both by the basic structure of the self and by the particular situa-
 Ristert Frondizt 121

tion in which it finds itself at that moment. If we are happy and in

pleasant company, for example, the color of the spectacles we happen to
be wearing has very little effect upon the emotive state of our spirit. This
is not because visual perception ceases to have emotional tonality but
because a greater affective tone—the happiness which results from a dif-
ferent cause—completely overshadows it. What is more, the stable nature
of the self colors the transitory state. There are people who give the
impression of seeing the world in the rosiest colors, whatever the tint of
the spectacles they wear, and there are others who see clouds in the
clearest sky.
This is the influence of the whole upon the member which is
incorporated, but there is also an influence of the member upon the
whole. We must not forget that a structure is not suspended in thin air but
rests solely upon the members which constitute it. A symphonic orchestra
is something more than the sum of the musicians that go to form it, but
it cannot exist without the musicians. A self without the
structures that go to make it up would be the same as an orchestra
without musicians, that is, a pure fantasy, the fantasy of a spiritual entity
that would be unable to love, hate, decide, want, perceive, etc., and would
pretend to be immutable substance. Such a concept would be immutable
without doubt, but it would have the immutability of nothingness.
In the same way that the total suppression of the experiential struc-
tures would mean the suppression of the self, any change or alteration of
a member has repercussions on the whole structure. By this I do not mean
a man lacking in emotional life, for example, for it is obvious that he
would not be a man but a mere caricature, or projection on a plane of two
dimensions, of a three-dimensional reality. I am referring to the alteration
of a structural subcomplex. Abulia, for example, is a disease of the will,
but the changes which it provokes are not limited to the volitional—it has
immediate repercussions in the emotive and intellectual spheres and con-
sequently in the total structure. Its intellectual repercussions are easily
seen, for the person suffering from abulia is unable to concentrate his
attention, and thus his intellectual processes break down completely. And
the emotional sphere is impaired, too, for the sufferer is unable, by an act
of the will, to get rid of the emotion which has taken control of him, so
he lets himself be so possessed by this emotion that it changes his whole
personality.
Of the characteristics of the structure that are applicable to the self we
have only to consider now the first and most important, that is, the fact
that the structure possesses qualities not possessed by the members
that
At this stage in our inquiry it seems a waste of time to insist
that this is one of the characteristics of the self. Let us consider only the
most obvious reasons. The self has a permanence—in the sense of con-
122 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

stant presence—and a stability that the experiences and experiential

groups do not have. Experiences are totally unstable; transiency is their
characteristic. The emma sare stable in the face of
the coming and going of experiences. If experiences do not have stability,
even less can they have permanence, which is the nica charac-
teristic of i self. And this is not all. “h > sel
rs tha 1 ot ratic rane it. There is
no experience that does not pelaie toa anienlar aie The self depends,
then, upon the experiences, but it is not equivalent to their sum. It is a
structural quality. . .

PROBLEMS SOLVED BY THE STRUCTURAL CONCEPTION

A. Permanence and Mutability of the Self

At the beginning of this chapter we saw that both substantialism and

atomism were unable to give an adequate picture of the self because they
could not comprehend how its permanence and continuity could be com-
patible with the changes that it undergoes. Substantialism emphasized the
permanence and atomism the mutability.
The structural conception that we are here proposing allows us to see
that the two characteristics are not only compatible but also complemen-
tary. The historical survey of past thought on the subject, which occupied
the first part of this book, showed us that substantialism could not under-
stand the changing nature of the self because it held fast to an irreducible
and immutable nucleus and that Hume’s atomism, in its effort to destroy
the doctrine of a substantial nucleus, confused it with the very real per-
manence and continuity of the self.
If we free ourselves of the limitations of both historical positions and
observe reality just as it presents itself, we shall see that the permanence
and continuity of the self are base al character, for it is
a dynamic structure made up not only of the eremicnits atch we Can iso-
late in a cross section of our life but also of the substructures that form
the complex longitudinal bundles that constitute the self. And change
occurs each time a new element is taken in, which alters but does not
destroy the structure.
In this way the constant alteration of the self insures its stability. It is
undeniable that a new experience modifies, or can modify, the structure
of the self.,The loss of a child or a friend, a war, a religious experience,
“etc., can nrodice such an inner commotion that they may alter the total
structure. From that time on we are not the same person as before. We act
in a different way, we see life in a different perspective, and it may be that
 Ristert Frondizt 123

not only the future but also the past is colored by the new attitude. But it
is just this experience causing us to change which gives endurance to the
self. From now on we shall be the man who has lost his son or his friend
or who had this or that religious experience. Other children that we may
have or the new friends which we may take into our hearts may cover up
but can never completely obliterate the existence of an experience that at
one time shook us deeply and persists in the structure of our spirit despite
all that may happen to us in the future.
What happens on a large scale in the case of experiences that are pro-
foundly moving happens on a smaller scale in all the other experiences of
our life. Each new experience alters the structure or substructure to which
it is connected, and thus it is incorporated “definitively,” so to speak.
Whatever happens afterward may alter the meaning of the experience
within the whole—increasing it or diminishing it—but it can never erase
the experience completely.
An analogy of a physical sort, even though inadequate to characterize
our psychic life, may perhaps make clear the meaning of what I am trying
to put across. The self resembles, in this respect, a mixture of colors. If we
add to the mixture a new color—for example, blue—the mixture will be
altered to a degree that will depend upon the quantity and shade of blue
added and upon the combination of colors that were there before. This
quantity of blue which produces a change in the former mixture is incor-
porated definitively into the whole, and however many more colors we
add we shall never be able completely to counteract its presence.
The nature of the whole and the influence of the element incorporated
into it are controlled, in the case of the analogy, by certain stable physical
laws in which quantity plays an important role. This is not the case with
psychic structures, in which quantity gives way to equality. Psychic struc-
tures obey certain principles, carefully studied by the Gestalt psychologists
in the case of visual perception, which also exist in all the other orders of
life and in the constitution of the total structure of the self. These general
principles governing the organization of our total personality are what the
most psychologically acute educators use as the basis for their choice of
one type of experience rather than another in their endeavor to devise a
system of corrective education for an aberrant personality.
Every self has a center
or axis around which its structure is organized.
When the personality has already developed, this axis is what gives direc-
tion and organization to our life, not only in that new experiences do not
succeed in dislodging it from its route but also in that it chooses the type
of experience that it finds to be in tune with it. But it is not a nucleus
immutable in itself or fixed in relation to the rest of the structure. In the
first place it undergoes an evolution which we can consider normal. The
axis that predominates changes at the different stages of our life. In our
124 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

earliest childhood the predominant experiential substructure is that

related to alimentation, later it is play, and so on through life.
What is more, the center undergoes sudden displacements caused by
new experiences that shake and modify the total structure. This is the case
with the soldier who, according to war records, after devoting his life to
the acquisition or intensification of his capacity for destruction and after
exercising this capacity for years at the cost of many lives, suddenly dis-
covers “the truth,” “finds himself,” decides that “we are all brothers.” The
center of his personality is completely displaced. His technical capacity as
a killer, in which he formerly took pride—and centered his whole person-
ality—is now a source of humiliation and shame. His personality must
retrace its steps and choose another route.
These changes are due to many varied and complex reasons. Usually
they have a long period of germination, as it were, in the world of the sub-
conscious and burst forth full blown at a propitious moment. I recall the
case of an American pilot who fought for several years in the Pacific; all
of a sudden “the truth was revealed to him” while he was reading, more
or less by chance, certain passages in the Bible. At other times the change
comes about because of the intensification of the means of destruction;
the explosion of the atomic bomb produced a psychological shock in
many of those who had launched 200-pound bombs under the same flag.
Most commonly it comes about because of the shock of contrast; the sol-
dier, in the midst of hatred, destruction, and death, comes across people
who are devoting their lives to healing, in a spirit of disinterested love, the
physical and moral wounds that other men cause. These external situa-
tions usually act as the immediate cause for the eruption of subterranean
currents; at other times they stir up for the first time currents that burst
forth later on, if a propitious situation presents itself.
We should not be surprised that an apparently insignificant fact may
be able to change the total structure of our personality after it has been
stable for many years; in the psychological realm quantities are of no great
importance. The principle, causa aequat effectum, is not valid in the inter-
relations of the different elements. Gestalt psychology has shown us how
the constitution of the structure and its alteration are governed by princi-
ples that have nothing to do with the principle of causality in its simplistic
interpretation as the equal of cause and effect... .

B. Immanence and Transcendence of the Self

Another apparent paradox—similar to that of permanence and muta-

bility—which is resolved by the structural conception is that of the imma-
nence and transcendence of the self. For both atomism and substan-
tialism, immanence and transcendence are incompatible. Either the self is
 Ristert Frondizt 5

equivalent to the totality of experiences—and in this sense is immanent to

them—or it is something that transcends the experiences. Atomism holds
the first position and substantialism the second. Sree
According to the theory that I am proposing, the self is immanent and
transcends experiences at the same time, though admittedly the terms
have different meanings from those attributed to them both by atomism
and by substantialism. The self is immanent because it is, indeed, equiv-
alent to the totality of experiences; but this totality, in turn, should be
interpreted not as the sum or aggregate of the experiences but as a struc-
ture that has properties that cannot be found in its parts. According to this
interpretation of the concept of totality, the self transcends the experiences
and becomes a structural quality, in the sense in which Ehrenfels used this
expression. Nevertheless, this is not the transcendence defended by the
substantialists when they affirm the existence of a being that supports
states or experiences. Mine is a transcendence that not only does not
exclude immanence but actually takes it for granted.
Let us look at the problem from another point of view. The relation
between the self and its experiences is so intimate that every experience
reveals some aspect of the self; what is more, every experience forms part
of theself. In this sense,
the self seems to be represented in each one of
the experiences, to be nothing but them. No experience, however, is able
to reveal to us the self in its entirety. Not even the sum of all the experi-
ences can do that. The self is able to transcend its autobiography; hence
the possibility of a true repentance, a conversion, a new life. In the first
instance the self seems to be immanent; in the second it is seen to be
something that transcends its experiences.
The problem is clarified considerably if one turns his attention to
those two propositions which Hume, and many others after him, consid-
ered to be incompatible: (a) that the self is nothing apart from its experi-
ences; (b) that the self cannot be reduced to its experiences. I, of course,
affirm that both propositions are true. When Hume maintained that the
self should be reduced to a bundle of perceptions because it could not
exist without them, he let himself be misled by the substantialist prejudice
in favor of the so-called independence of the self. But the self, though not
independent of the perceptions, is not reducible to the mere sum of them.
The paradox of the immanence and transcendence of the self, just like
the paradox which we examined before, has arisen as a consequence of
the way in which substantialists stated the problem of the self, a state-
ment that the atomists accepted without realizing its consequences. The
problem, as stated, presupposes a metaphysics and a logic which our con-
ception rejects. First, it conceives of real existence as substance, indepen-
dent and immutable; and second, it interprets the principles of identity
and of noncontradiction in a very rigid way. My concept, on the other
126 Part IJ: Philosophical Anthropology

hand, gives a very dynamic interpretation to both principles, to the point

of seeing in contradiction much of the essence of the real. What is more,
I believe that there is nothing independent and immutable. I can hardly
believe, therefore, in the independence and immutability of the self, the
stuff of which is relationship and the essence of which is creative process.

C. Unity and Multiplicity

A variant of the preceding paradoxes is that of unity and multiplicity.

When atomism took over the analysis of the self, its unity was destroyed
forever and the self was turned into a great mosaic of loose pieces. Each
perception became a reality in itself, independent, separable, sharply
delimited. With this conception of the elements it proved impossible to
rewin the lost unity. Atomists maintained, therefore, the plurality of the
self, even though they sighed from time to time for the unity that they
themselves had destroyed. When atomists—and men like William James
who criticized atomism without being able to free themselves from the
source of its confusion—ask what unites the different parts constituting
the self, one must simply answer that the self never ceased to constitute
a unity. Atomism’s difficulties in reaching the unity of the self are merely
a consequence of the arbitrary way in which it was dismembered. First
they build a wall; then they complain they cannot see beyond the wall.
Substantialism, on the other hand, takes as its point of departure the
postulate of unity and relegates multiplicity to accidents. The self is only
one, although many different things happen to it.
With the importance that these “happenings” have for us—the self is
made up of what it does—the whole statement of the problem collapses;
the self is one or multiple according to how one looks at it. It is one if one
focuses on the whole; it is multiple if one focuses on the members that
constitute it. The self is the unity of the multiplicity of its experiences. . . .

NOTE

1. By substructure | mean any of the structural parts that constitute the total
Gestalt that makes up the self.
Carlos Astrada
(1894-1970)

A can still be considered one of the outstanding representatives

of Heideggerian existentialism in Latin America, although he
shifted to a Marxist orientation toward the end of his life.
He was born in Cordoba, Argentina, February 26, 1894, and died in
1970. He completed secondary education in the Colegio Monserrat and
then began the study of law in his native city. In 1926 he obtained a schol-
arship to study in Germany for two years, later renewed for an additional
two years. He studied at the University of Cologne and Freiburg with
Scheler, Husserl, and Heidegger.
Upon returning to Argentina, Astrada was designated associate pro-
fessor of the history of modern and contemporary philosophy in the Uni-
versity of Buenos Aires (1936-47) and professor of ethics in the Univer-
sity of La Plata (1937-47). He assumed Francisco Romero’s position as
professor of epistemology and metaphysics when the latter resigned in
1947 in protest against the Perdn government. Romero then replaced
Astrada in 1956 when the government of Perén fell. Astrada traveled to
Moscow in 1956 where he gave lectures and in 1960 he traveled to Peking
for the same purpose.
He wrote extensively and produced several works. His writing began
with an article in 1931 and continued until his death. His main works are:
El juego existencial (1933); Idealismo fenomenoldgico y metafisica existen-
cial (1936); La ética formal y los valores (1938), which has an incisive crit-
icism of the axiological absolutism of Scheler; El juego metafisico (1942);
and Temporalidad (1943). After this there is a tendency to abandon exis-
tentialism and turn toward Hegel and Marx as is evident in La revolucion
existencialista (1952). The second edition of this work bears the title Exis-
tencialismo y crisis de la filosofia (1963) and has a “Conclusion” in which

aie
128 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

there is an even sharper turn toward Marxism. He also published Hegel y

la dialéctica (1956), El marxismo y la escatologia (1957), Marx y Hegel
(1958), Humanismo y dialéctica de la libertad (1960), La doble faz de la
dialéctica (1962), and other books that were collections of important
essays. Unfortunately, in his later publications there is a decrease in the
intellectual rigor that characterized his early work and he often falls into
political rhetoric of a noble inspiration but lacking in theoretical founda-
tion and significance. He proclaims that “Western culture” is crumbling
inevitably and religious fervor, so modestly and ingeniously praised, can
do nothing to counter this phenomenon. The downfall is due to the
demise of capitalism.
Astrada was a passionate man who placed his thought at the service
of his convictions. His philosophical training was wholly German. He
relied primarily on Hegel, Nietzsche, Marx, phenomenology, Heidegger,
and to a lesser degree on Scheler and Hartmann.
Astrada’s conception of human beings is primarily Heideggerian, and
takes on a strong social concern when his thought is reoriented under
Marxist influence, as can be seen in the selections included in this
anthology and in the passage quoted below, which is taken from the “Con-
clusion” of the 1963 edition of Existencialismo y crisis de la filosofia.

We have therefore, on the one hand, an existential ontology (Heidegger)

that is anchored in an irrationalist solipsism and, on the other hand, an
existentialism (Sartre) that can be reduced to an ontological phenome-
nonalism without any foundation. . . . Within western, class-oriented
philosophy, although they did not intend to do so, these two positions
... have actualized the vigorous, radical problematic of dialectical mate-
rialism, giving emphasis by contrast to the perceptive insight of the phi-
losophy of Marx.

This turn toward Marxism is reminiscent of Sartre, whose existen-

tialism Astrada criticized on numerous occasions.
Existentialism and the Crisis
of Philosophy

[THE PROBLEMATIC OF MAN]

\X ithin the diversity of positions included in the common meaning

of “existentialism,” within its points of contact and divergency,
one should take note of a perspective of great philosophical breadth and
rigor represented primarily by the thought of Heidegger, in which the
rhythm and direction of the new problematic is to be found.
One of the most significant dimensions of the phenomenological
analysis of human _existence (Dasein) focuses on that existence as it is
present in this world in its naked facticity, as a temporal process that in
itself is conclusive. Thus, Dasein is no longer conceived as mere transi-
tion, as a function of some other world of blessedness to which it might
be destined. Within this focus emerges the affirmation of concrete exis-
tence with its socio-historical environment and of man’s destiny as ground
of being, making clear for man the way that leads to full humanity
without transcendentalist interference or calls from the beyond.
Since man comes to existence in virtue of the ability to accede to the
truth of being, what is at stake is nothing less than the actualization of the
human essence of man as a being in this world, consigned to the world’s
finite dimensions. Man can be conceived only in his humanitas and is
able to tend toward it because he thinks the truth about being and
becomes the ek-sistent through accession to his own being.
Man’s essence is in what he actually is, and not something beyond
that, therefore he only wants to be what he can be, but this essence of
man—his humanitas—is historical and not an ontological structure or
nucleus of a supratemporal character. This is to say that the being of man

From Carlos Astrada, Existencialismo y crisis de la filosofia (Buenos Aires: Edit. Devenir,
1963), pp. 42-43, 65-69, 110-12, 128-30, 189-203.

129
130 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

must be accomplished in history through all its contingencies, necessities,

and changes. In the midst of these, immersed in historical time, man will
always be bound to his unpredictable earthly adventure: becoming
human. To become human he directs himself toward the fullness of his
own being in virtue of the relationship that in the midst of his own self-
hood, that is, the temporal environment of his ek-sistence, he establishes
with being, as the permanent dimension in the process of his historic
humanity.

Being and Transcendence

Dasein possesses a structure that is both open to other things yet also
endowed with a comprehension of them. The comprehension character-
istic of Dasein draws a sketch in which things (the entity) are discovered
in their possibility. To the things thus discovered, it attributes a meaning.
“When the intra-mundane entity is discovered with the being of Dasein,
when it is comprehended, we say it has meaning.”! Therefore, what is
articulated in a reference filled with comprehension we call meaning;

However, what is comprehended in the ultimate instance is not meaning

but the entity itself, the thing to which we grant meaning and, correla-
tively, being. On this basis Heidegger says “meaning is
existential
an
dimension of Dasein,
enn not a property which, adhering to the entity, resides
behind it or floats in an intermediate domain somewhere.” Dasein thus
has meaning. This indicates that to ask for the meaning of being is to ask
for being itself, since being can be understood by Dasein.
In following the two roads headed in opposite directions, which is a
quest that Heidegger pursues, a difficulty or one might even say an am-
biguity emerges that affects the direction and the ultimate consequences
of the investigation. The outcome of this situation brings us to deciding
on the possibility of a fundamental ontology in one of two directions:
either in the direction of a transcendence that ends up in the objectivity
of the old ontology (with the danger of falling back into the naturalist idea
of being or into a theologically personalist idea of the same, with the
added alternative of a mythical conception of being); or in the direction of
an existential-historic transcendence, beyond the subject-object relation
and the idea of being as the predicate of a suprasensible object. Such an
ambiguity in Heidegger’s thought, with its oscillation between two direc-
tions, gives rise to an ambivalent idea of being as well as of the historical
essence of man.
The thread of all questioning, including questioning about being,
begins with |Dasein| and returns to it.4 When the problem of being is
focused on its ontological root, that is, on the temporal structures of
 Carlos Astrada el

Dasein, it can only be stated on the basis of the fontic)as well as ontolog-
ical preeminence of Dasein, of all the possibilities embedded within it.
The problem of being is the philosophical radicalization of the under-
standing of being appropriate to Dasein. The problem is that philosoph-
ical thinking, ontological thematization, in straying from this root tends to
hypostasize in a naturalistic direction or in that of a personal entity, the
latter being the summum esse of religions, the understanding of being that
is articulated in the unified concept of being as the unity of all existential
things. All predication of being, all truth is relative to the being of Dasein,
to its existence. In saying that it is3_relative, however, we are. far_ from

will ordiscretion.
Dasein, as discoverer of things, is not placed in an empty happening *
without a world, like a “subject” facing a correlative “object,” rather
because it is in the world it places itself
own
existence, in the presence of its own factual objectivity. The interro-
gation concerning being will be formulated beginning with the concrete
situation of the entity that interrogates. That is to say, that “we
interrogate

\Transcending in the comprehension of being, Dasein sketches its own

being and the being of things through the articulation of the concept
implied in an existential unity that permits it to predicate being. Such a
concept is implied in the comprehension of being. This particular tran-
scendence in which the comprehension of being moves is not a flight into
the “objective,” rather it is the way that conduces to an ontologico-exis-
tential interpretation of the objectivity of the Dasein, which is located
objectively because of its de facto placement in the world, this side of
“objectivism” and “subjectivism.” That is to say, that the effective tran-
scendence of Dasein is transcendence in existential immanence. The
direction toward which this transcendence points is not the ontic polarity
that stems from the subject-object relationship, but being as a relation
installed through existence. Its horizon is temporality.
Transcendence is thus interwoven with the elemental temporality of
Dasein within which all being is constituted. However, it is not appro-
priate to affirm of Dasein, as classical ontology did, that it is a constancy
in the present or permanent presence indicative of an extratemporal
“now,” conceived as eternity. As the horizon of the comprehension of
being, time can no longer be considered the “moving image of eternity”
as is said in Plato’s Timaeus. On the contrary, “eternity” is the crystal-
lization or stagnation of a now that is absolutized in an artificial manner,
segregated from finite temporality, that is, from originating time.
132 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

Being as Finite Temporal Progression alie Seer

y rc o rh
. £

If a fundamental ontology, one with foundations in ek-sistence, were lim-

ited solely to explaining what has been stated above without exploring its
ultimate consequences, it would be an ontology in every way inoffensive,
stationary. However, the step forward is the incisive possibility of thinking
of being in the sense of a temporal-finite progression, centered in the
ek-sistent man, in virtue of which it is given to him to actualize himself
in his own being, that is, in his BistonicelReAGEARe. For man to be able to
maintain hi i -si ce, he must accede to his being, that is to say
ey and through
prospective
a thinking that is

temporal dimensions ek-sistence moves in its own realm—being—because

if the present procures for Dasein, through its being-in-the-world, open-
ness toward being and thereby its accession to ek-sistence also to forget
being, since, through the primacy that the perceptive and representative
contents in this mode of temporality have, the present is scattered in the
entity. d
the future, and it is thus that the “instant” can be actualized as present or
as a mode of primary temporality, which permits us to recover the
“instant” (maintaining the unity of the three modes of temporality) and to
distinguish it from the “now,” which is absorbed and scattered in the
entity. In its historicity such an event is remembering
what abides, which
has neither passed by nor been completed but is at the same time an
exploration, that is, an inserting into the future, wherein the existential
decision is anticipated, attentive to being and to the plenitude of ek-sis-
tence. This decision is not the anticipated decisiveness of which Heidegger
speaks and through which Dasein reaches its limit in order to take hold of
itself as a whole, rather it is a decision that is more elementary, in which
that decisiveness finds its foundation, a decision that governs man (and
here the ethos is revealed, the root of all ethic), as ek-sistent, to be and to
maintain himself in ek-sistence, in the home of being. It governs him in
the degree that his remembering and his thinking are primary acts, laden
with his historical essence, with his human destiny.

The Rescue of Man from Alienation

The humanism of freedom is defined above all as the affirmation and

rescue of the being of man. Therefore, it is founded on an existential
ontology, directed toward a conception of human life as ek-sistence, and
concerned with all of life’s essential aspects, ethical, political, and eco-
nomic, as well as others.
Such a rescue of man can be effected only by the forces residing
 Carlos Astrada 133

within the human being himself. If this recuperation of his being implies
that man has the nontransferable task of saving himself, then the
humanism that leads him to salvation is opposed to Christianity that, in
defining man in relationship to the {Deitas\ conceives salvation only as a
work of God. The humanism of liberty begins with what man effectively
is, excluding as spurious and contrary to its basic presuppositions every-
thing from which man has alienated himself through the influence of the
dominating powers in historical evolution. These powers also determine
the type of man developed historically in the different ages, as well as the
particular anthropological views of each age.
The objection made against so- calledjpure humanism) ii.e., that it falls
into naturalism, cannot be made against the humanism of liberty, except
in error, because the latter neither recognizes nor accepts the artificial and
unfounded separation of man from nature. Centered as it is in existence,
which is the essence of man, humanism of freedom thinks of him as
leaning toward Aumanitas without abandoning the entitative or psy-
chophysical support of his Dasein. Only in the latter does one find through
its accession to existence, i.e., the opening toward being, the opening that
presupposes man’s coming to his being. There is a traditional type of
humanism that only accentuates a “properly human” nature derived from
the separation in man of the body from the soul, of a will and a self that
are superior from a will and a self that are inferior, that is to say, on the
supposition of the separation between human nature and animal nature.
This humanism rests on presuppositions of Christian dogma and therefore
derives inspiration from the duality of body and soul, of terrestrial life and
celestial life. Herein man is conceived in relationship with the Deitas. _
The humanism of liberty, however, affirms the being of man over against
what alienates him from himself, whether this be subjection of his spirit to.
supposed truths, essences, eternal values, or superhuman powers, all of
which reduce him to an infrahuman level by seeing him primarily as a means
for the production of goods and riches, as is the case in capitalist economies
For Christianity, therefore, man is at the same time nature, since his
body is a natural entity, and supernature, since his soul has been infused
by divine creation, granting him a free immortality. For existential
humanism or humanism of freedom on the other hand there is no split in
man’s being in the fashion described above, rather man is a natural entity,
an individual in a biological species with the functional ontological possi-
bility of raising himself, an entity that has already yielded to its being, self-
hood, and freedom, even to its humanitas. However, he raises himself to
humanitas without annulling his nature or pretending to escape it,
because to exist and to exist as a person impelled in that direction by the
spirit implicit and generated in humanitas, presupposes the ontic condi-
tionality of Dasein (of the human entity).
134 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

We must concede to Heidegger that the humanism or humanisms re-

ferred to as such thus far, because they are under the dominance of meta-
physics, focusing only on the entity, on defining man as a rational animal,
and not on the being, think about man beginning with animalitas and not
in the direction of humanitas. They claim that existence can never be
thought of as a specific mode among other modes, and that the body of
man is something different (but not “essentially different,” as Heidegger
affirms) from an animal organism. This distinction does not prevent exis-
tence from conditionally supposing and requiring the ontic of the “being
there” (Dasein). Man, to the degree to which he is humanized, makes of
his body an instrument for his humanity. His humanity is preformed, as
Herder maintains, in the biological organization of man. Therefore, this
humanity does not make its appearance in man as if it were blown in from
the essential truth of an extraexistential being, for in that case existence
would emerge ecstatic in man.

Man in the Crisis of Philosophy

Man has changed the direction in which he searched for himself; his de-
mands have become radical and the process of becoming human has
become more profound in all aspects. This being the case, the philosophy
of existence, now in the process not only of giving complete expression to
this change but also of opening the way and making its acceptance gen-
uine, proclaims and embodies a crisis of philosophy. It is now clear that
man’s fundamental struggle can be understood in terms of rescuing his
being from its alienation in the Platonistic categories and products of
every kind; in recuperating his being from its alienation in “eternal”
essences, values, and “ nd to rescue him also from the
alienation he suffers from infrahuman conditions that reduce him to a
mere means for the production of material goods and wealth. With due
attention to affirming his selfhood and the fullness of his humanitas, he
leaves behind as a caput mortuum the philosophy of the past and the
image it forged of him, which he no longer recognizes. Thus, turning his
back on conceptual transcriptions of his being and his potentialities and
possibilities offered in that philosophy, he pursues the path indicated by
his most intimate human needs and desires.
If man finds himself in crisis and in the midst of it asserts himself in
his own being and freedom, of necessity he must nourish the new life
germinating within him from the substance, resistance, weakness, and
even the vital forces remaining in these last stages of the past. Therefore,
in its determination to recover, and even though it is pulled along in the
flow of contemporary events, his thought must frequently revert in its
polemic, denial, and criticism to the philosophical jargon of the concep-
 Carlos Astrada 135

es wees,
tions from which he seeks to be}separate and free.| To give human shape
to this image in gestation, the image of a man with viscera, blood, and
historic and earthly substance, he must still refer to the philosophy of the
past, to its conceptual instruments. That is to say, he must engage philo-

Philosophy of existence has brought to the forefront the crisis in

which contemporary man is debated. While struggling and divided, con-
temporary man tries to free himself from the ontologically hypostasized
structures of the “objective spirit” (the technical term coined by Hegel),
within which he has been transcribed, schematized, and pressured to con-
form to a rigid system of values, to a cultural ideal, and to a specific
cosmic image. In this struggle to return to himself, man discovers, through
the progression of his being as he seeks to direct himself toward the full-
ness of his humanitas, the possibility of giving a new turn to historical

THE HUMANISM OF LIBERTY AND ITS IMAGE OF MAN

Man in the Unexpectedness of His Becoming

The age in which we live, with its thrust toward the mutation of economic
and social structures and of the qualitative content of life, gives an ac-
celerated tempo to human becoming in the individual as well as the col-
lective dimensions.
Before our very eyes, with the pressure of an intense desire and of a
need for change, a transformation, revolutionary because of its extensive-
ness, is at work in the whole political order. Activating this process and at
the same time impelled and shaped by it, the individual, concrete man,
begins to emerge with traits of life and spirit that proclaim his commit-
ment to another style of life and differentiate him basically from men of
the previous age. Historically, there is an intrinsic correlation between the
essential characteristics of a determined age and the typical traits of the
individuals who belong to it. In these individuals appears a scale model
of the structural characteristics of their age.
When there comes a change such as the one of which we are a part,
there is also the formation of a new concept, of another image of man that
begins to stand out and proclaim its own dynamics, to outline its life-spirit
content on the horizon of the age under consideration.
Future days will be responsible for filling out the new idea of man,
whose existential profile is already emerging from the convulsing present.
136 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

Man is a pilgrim who through all the incarnations of his precarious and
ephemeral humanity searches for man, anticipating the exultation of the full
affirmation of himself. For man never is, in the sense of something finished
and formed in the ideal mold of a goal that he proposed to reach; rather he
is an eternal coming to be, suspended in the effort in which he projects him-
self toward historical concretions and temporal fulfillment of his humanitas,
a desideratum never reached nor possessed in its total fullness.
Impelled by his temporal destiny, by his intrinsic making of himself,
which is consubstantial with and even defines his being, his “essence” as
humanitas,4 he tempers and refines his soul in the uncertainties of
becoming. According to the temper of the times, man’s pilgrimage goes
through calm and sunny regions or those that are stormy and dark. Some-
times to live is to be confident and serene; but at other times historical
development is torrential, and to live is a dramatic mission to force destiny
and hasten the rhythm of the march one’s heart feels in a burning fever.
In the present man travels a dangerous stretch to the true crossroads of
his destiny. And if vision and will are lacking, he may lose the way and for-
sake the task that history proposes for him: to remodel his essence, to give
new form to being, a being both constant and changing, in whose succes-
sive thrusts of historic accomplishment his exhausted humanity is restated.
In turning toward a new image of himself, man seeks above all to
rescue the meaning of his essential humanity from the prison of dead
forms and from styles of life that are already perishing. After being formed
by the Greek logos, after being deluded in the Christian netherworld and
getting lost in the rationalist impasse of the modern period, man aspires
to raise his humanity to a lordly height.

Man, Sketched by Reason

The Christian image of man reaches its culmination and end in the Middle
Ages jand with it the possibility that this man, fearful of everything terres-
trial, should continue considering himself a candidate for peaceful exis-
tence in the life beyond. From thelRenaissancd comes the so-called idea of
modern man. With the dawn of the Renaissance comes nothing less than
the rediscovery of man himself, he who like a terra incognita offers him-
self to the obscured vision of that age. Thus, when the unifying norm of
the Middle Ages was broken there emerged from its midst, as Jacob Bur-
ckhardt so aptly stated, the imponderable world of the human personality.
The geographical horizon had already been expanded with the discovery
of the New World.
European man therefore begins to feel himself the master of his des-
tiny. Obstacles that hindered the free development of his vital forces were
eliminated and he turned toward the Earth, dedicated to the unfolding of
 Carlos Astrada 137

immanent possibilities. Stirred by new passion, he searches through

nature, looking for a pattern that would harmonize with his own designs.
Through this exercise of his intellect new scientific disciplines took
form. New discoveries fed his increasing curiosity and, filled with faith in
the power of the instruments he was making, he dreamed of being lord of
the material universe. One more step toward the dawn of the Enlighten-
ment and “science now becomes an idol, a myth,” says Paul Hazard.
“There is a tendency to confuse science and well-being, material progress
and moral progress.” dep 3
With the apogee of the|Enlightenmeni spirit, the image of man begins
to bear the highly schematic séal of rationalism. Later there emerges the
conception of History as a unified process, whose stages, oriented toward
a predetermined end, must conform to the demands and modes of an all-
powerful reason. Thus, for Hegel, the philosopher to whom the spiritual
hegemony belongs in the first half of the nineteenth century, History is the
dialectical process of the Idea. The conception of History as progress
emerges as a skillfully drawn system in Hegel. Its first manifestation is
found in Pascal, who imagines humanity as “a single man who always
subsists and continuously learns through the course of thecenturies.”
The perspective holds that man as a rational being is not a psycho-
logical given, but a being in process turned toward becoming, who
emerges as a historical task. He participates in universal reason and in the
universality of reason only as a historical being (Hegel’s correction of the
Enlightenment concept of man); that is to say, man is conceived specifi-
cally and individually as developing, as in a process tending toward actu-
alizing his essence, which as humanitas is a possibility that is achieved
only in the concrete singular man and apart from him lacks meaning.
In these stages, the image of man becomes an image that is entirely
schematized by reason, conforming to the demands of its postulated uni-
versality. This is the man who comes from nowhere, who has neither
blood nor earthly roots, an anonymous being of utopian political con-
structions. Given this idea as the goal of his self-realization, man is con-
strained to imprison his essence, to shrink it into a simplistic rational
scheme from which his vitality and intrinsic possibilities of historic pro-
gression are eliminated. This man, with no biological roots or temporal
dimension, to the extent that he is an atomic element and a supposed con-
stant, rational factor of a type of civilization, is dissolved into an entirely
impersonal entity.
sak
Santali
Toward a New Image of Man

The rationalist concept of man is dogmatically constructed on the peripheries

of concrete humanity, of individual historic man, and of vital reality. Over
138 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

against this rationalist concept, a real, living image of man is being raised,
an image with blood and viscera, with earthly fluids and air to breathe.
A new image of man, man conceived according to other necessities
and purposes, necessarily presupposes a new social order, a new hierar-
chical order of values to which the historical sensitivity of the age gives
allegiance. The concept of man of rationalist humanism with its parallel
postulate of progressivism is embedded in all the instances and sectors
wherein it was able to gain preeminence, but even now, it is dead, though
still hauled around on a declining verbal rather than mental plane on
which are placed all the survivors of individual liberalism and its residual
doctrinaire expressions.
This type of man, purely rational, lantihistorical,\‘and anonymous, is a
ghostlike entity that eludes reality and struggles along a retreating front
against the great events the future is preparing. It cannot be ignored, how-
ever, that this image of man has reigned for almost three centuries in the
cultural and political life of the West, having shown that in the past it was
an efficient reagent in the multiple aspects of this life. However, for the
past three decades, this image of man is in obvious decline. It is barely a
vanishing shadow that those adrift in the historical present vainly attempt
to seize.
The completed man, conceptually constructed by rationalist
humanism, that is to say, the isolated, completed, purely ideal man,
without roots in a specific soil, with no vital ties to a nationality, with no
connections to an instinctive and emotional repertoire of historically con-
ditioned preferences—sucha man does not exist.) Neither is there an
essential equality of all men based solely on universal reason as a constant
and unalterable factor that would act independently in the psycho-vital,
historical reality of national communities, classes, and racial constella-
tions.
Having surpassed it, we are also far beyond the pseudoantinomy of
individualism and collectivism. Our age no longer knows the individual as
a social atom nor over against him the collectivity, considered as an aggre-
gation of such atoms and billed as the leading actor of social and political
history. It does recognize, however, opposing classes whose struggle, un-
doubtedly, is the crux of the economic-social process. There is also a
growing awareness of the concrete historical man, the man who, without
turning loose the bonds and surroundings in which he is implicated,
stands out as a personal, psycho-vital unit, who affirms and gives life to
his humanity as a function of his real goals, which are immanent in his
particular becoming.
 Carlos Astrada 139

The Extinction of Modern Man

The unbalanced society of our age, especially the capitalist and mercan-
tile commanders who are the possessors of political power, attempt in vain
to live off the remains of the rationalist idea of man embodied in so-called
modern man, an image already in a state of dessication. These comman-
ders are the crusty bark oppressing and retarding the buds of a new idea
of man of great historical significance that have been germinating rapidly
in the deeper levels of contemporary life. Suppressed forces that are emo-
tionally and historically articulated by a generation destined to place its
seal on the future give added thrust and life to this idea of man with which
the coming generation will impose a new ethos, affirming a particular
political will and instituting also a different scale of evaluation for the cul-
ture, economy, and society.
Modern man is a cadaver that senescent human groups, adrift in the
storm of these days, attempt vainly to galvanize, appealing to slogans and
incantations that no longer have meaning. In a letter to Dilthey, Count
Yorck von Wartenburg said: “Modern man, the man who began with the
Renaissance and has endured until our time, is ready to be buried.”
This type man, the man of individualistic liberalism, the ultimate,
valedictory expression of “modern man,” imbued with vestiges of the
rationalist ideals of the nineteenth century is the corpse to be buried. The
present age is responsible for carrying out this task so the new man can
cover the whole surface of history and thus affirm and give full meaning
to the spiritual and political orders now germinating.
History has no compassion for values in decline nor for human types
that are repositories of endangered sensibilities and ideals, inanimate
modules of a destiny that has made its rounds and can no longer swell
history with new hope or give it new impetus. History takes into its flow
only the vital ascending force, the ethos in which a new message for men
is given form, the promise of accomplishment that is the incentive for
renewed effort. History—the matrix of all possibilities—yields itself only
to those generations capable of engendering the fullness of a new age, that
is, to that type of man capable of implanting an ascending meaning in his-
tory and of proposing to it new and valuable goals.

Historical Becoming and Objective Goals

According to Dilthey, ages differ from each other in their structure. Each
age contains a nexus, a correlation of similar, related ideas that govern the
different res
realms of cultural life, the so--called objective spirit. It isthe com-
mon repertoire thatdefines the character of an age. However, the ultimate
foundation of this organic repertoire of ideas is constituted by the powers
140 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

of the historical life, in whose nourishing soil all the objective spiritual
structures, all the forms of culture take root. “The facticity of race, of
space, of the relationships among powers constitute everywhere the foun-
dation which can never be spiritualized. It was a mere dream of Hegel that
different ages represent stages in the development of reason.”
The remains of this dream, sifted through liberal rationalism of the
nineteenth century, were thought to be unending sources of life and
strength for the order of things that today is drawing near to its dissolu-
tion because its foundation has been undermined.
To affirm the spiritual personality and uniqueness of each age does
not imply dissolution into a historical relativism concerned only with the
pure, autonomous flow of these disconnected spiritual worlds. Such a rel-
ativism would never see in history anything firm that would serve as a
point of reference, nothing that would tie these spiritual worlds together
so they could establish an objective and transcendent nexus as a norm for
change, as the goal of the historical process itself. Ranke saw this perfectly
well, when in formulating his concept of the meaning of historical ages
and in criticizing the idea of linear progress, he said “each age has its own
particular tendency and its own ideal. . . . Its value does not reside in what
emerges from it, but in its own existence, its own selfhood”; that is, in its
identity with itself.
Neither does Ranke allow any given generation to be reduced in rank
for the sake of successive generations, since “all generations of humanity
appear with equal rights.” Contemplating universal history as a whole, as
a supreme process that includes every individuality and all spiritual
realms, he thinks of States “as individualities, analogous to each other, but
essentially independent of one another . . . original creations of the human
spirit.”
The same can be said of the individual, who in his historicity is not
given to a bare flowing, a becoming with no meaning, that recognizes
nothing firm in the midst of mutation and does not transcend toward any-
thing objective, such as ideals, goals, and values, though such an objec-
tivity would be functional and not ontologico-hypostatic. Objective truth
as well as objective structures do not reside in a transcending moment nor
in a transcending world of reason that has no tie with human historical
becoming, rather they belong to such becoming, to its primary existential
temporality, since they have been formed by its flowing.

Sameness, Otherness, and Humanitas

To be sure, there is a realm of ends, norms, and values structured on an

objective plane that transcends individual consciousness. One may also
conceive and accept the effectiveness of an objective spirit as a structured
 Carlos Astrada 141

whole that has emerged from the historical process, but this process is a
far cry from being the domain of pure contingency and subjective irra-
tionality. For it is precisely man’s ability to establish an objective realm of
the spirit that permits him, in each moment of his becoming, to be him-
self, to apprehend his own self-sameness.
Although man aspires to fulfill himself in his being, to affirm himself
in his humanity, to feel identical with himself in each moment of temporal
transition, the personal identity to which he aspires leads him to postulate
time, a transcendence in the sense of otherness, as a guarantee of his iden-
tity and as the goal of his efforts. Stating this problem as a function of the
finite-infinite, historicity-eternity antinomy, Kierkegaard tells us that man
in his sameness, in his desired self-existence, always finds something, the
Absolute, before which he is his own self-sameness.
While the sameness of man lives and exists, in the proper sense of
these terms, through his becoming this sameness, it is bound to a concrete
self-consciousness that, because it is expressed in temporality, is also
becoming and thus never crystallizes, since there is no crystallizing in the
existing man. This concrete-self-consciousness gathers man into the lived
experience of its own identity, anchored to the temporal structures of exis-
tence. This is because man, in everything (ideals, values, objective norms
of life) toward which he transcends and projects himself from his concrete
historicity—which is the ineradicable moment of his being, of his being
made in time—in all this transcending, man searches only for himself, he
attempts only to seal his identity in the midst of mutations and change,
shaping it into a consistent and stable image of himself, into an idea of his
“humanitas.”
He now strives toward a new actualization of his being, a new image
of himself. He aspires to actualize and conceive himself in all his imma-
nent possibilities, to integrate himself with his potentialities, to reen-
counter himself, at last, in the full concretion of his essential humanity.
Magnetizing its thrust, which is historically conditioned and limited,
the ideal of the full man—as proposed by Max Scheler—is lifted up as the
goal that at the same time that it transcends pure becoming, receives from
it its meaning, which is latent, to the degree it is existential, in the imma-
nence of the temporal structure. Although “this full-man, in an absolute
sense, is far from us, . . . a relatively whole-man, a maximum of full
humanity, is accessible to each age.”
For the concrete, existing man, this ideal of the whole-man as a goal
and model is an index of transcendence, a mediating synthesis of all
objective structures. These structures represent the other, not in the sense
of the naturalist idea of being or of an absolute conceived as a personal
God, but of an other that, as a transcending instance toward which what
is human is projected, permits man in each moment and stage of his tem-
142 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

poral passing to know his concrete sameness. It is the apparently fixed

limit that as an ideal point of reference hovers above historical becoming.
Ultimately, however, existence activates and gives meaning to historical
becoming, for existence historically determines and actualizes the
humanity in man.

Conclusion (After a Decade)>

Within the structure of bourgeois philosophy and with respect to its doc-
trinal perspectives, the ontology of existence and existentialism have had
a revolutionary impact, laying open the false suppositions and the state of
crisis to which this philosophy had come. This ontology of existence and
existentialism have served as true antidotes to the usual emphases of a
sterilelErkenntnistheorie and of an absolutist axiology of Platonic heritage.
At the same time, however, Heideggerian existential ontology and Sartrean
existentialism—the latter derived erroneously from the former—in their
encounter with the doctrines of bourgeois philosophy have revealed their
own insufficiency and are implicated, as opponents of that philosophy, in
its crisis and decadence.
We have, therefore, on the one hand an existential ontology [Hei-
degger] anchored in an irrationalist solipsism, and on the other hand an
existentialism [Sartre] reduced to a phenomenalist ontologism with no
foundation. Above all, the first, with its solipsistic Dasein and its
“onto-theology,” has shown its own frustration, its lack of authenticity in
the analysis of historicity. In its own formulation and development, it has
been incapable of surpassing the radical, solipsistic individualism of
Kierkegaard. Both positions, the ontologico-existential and the existen-
tialist, have actualized, though without saying so, the vigorous and rad-
ical problematic of dialectical materialism within Western classical phi-
losophy, accentuating by contrast the immense foresight of Marx’s philos-
ophy.
Earlier we pointed out that existentialism, although it is a “philosophy
of crisis,” is fundamentally the proclamation of the crisis of philosophy. It
is such in that it sums up the breakdown of the ideological structures of
bourgeois philosophy. Further, it is crisis on a deeper level, since the type
man that is dominant—the bourgeois and the petit bourgeois—is involved
inthe actual decadent stage of Western capitalist civilization. Aside from
this, the ecumenical man, struggling to rescue himself, from above and at
the cost of concrete life, from the alienation in all the socially superstruc-
tured forms—from the fetish of consumerism to supposed eternal values
and essences—this universal man searches for himself, searches for his
own humanity along a path different from the one designated by histor-
ical humanisms, which up to the present, as ideas that have dominated
 Carlos Astrada 143

successively, express only the ideas of the ruling classes, which gave to
these humanisms their philosophical imprint. Thus, the crisis of one type
of man—the so-called modern man who dates from the Renaissance—
stems from the historical situation of the civilization in which he finds
himself, which gives rise to the crisis of bourgeois philosophy and of its
ideological structures. Basically, our concern here is not a temporary “phi-
losophy of crisis” but the crisis of a particular philosophy, a superstruc-
tural expression of the crisis of a whole economic system, that inevitably
follows the descending curve of its decadence to its dissolution and fall.

NOTES
1. Martin Heidegger, Sein und Zeit, p. 151.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid., p. 38.
4. We can speak of the essence of man (with absolute exclusion of the
“realist” presupposition of the doctrine of “universals”) conceiving it only as an
idea of a living individual, a specific individual, who is precisely the one who has
or actualizes the idea. This essence or idea does not constitute an independent
being that has primacy with respect to the concrete existing man, but as human-
itas; it is realized only in individuals, in specific men. Outside of them, it does not
occur nor does it have meaning. Hence we must avoid all absolutizing of the con-
cept of “man,” of hypostasizing the idea of man as well as the idea of “humanity,”
as if we had under consideration something distinct and above the totality of men.
Since the idea of man is constituted in the existing individual, this idea, human-
itas, is subject to the mutation that is imposed upon it by historical becoming, by
the very historicity of concrete man.
5. This is part of a section added by Astrada to the last edition of this work.—
ED.
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Francisco Mir6 Quesada
(b. 1918)

Be in Lima in 1918, Miro Quesada attended elementary school in

Peru and France and completed secondary education at the Italian
School in Lima. He received doctorates in mathematics and philosophy
from the University of San Marcos, in Lima, where he also received a
degree in law. At twenty-one years of age, he was appointed to the chair
of contemporary philosophy at the University of San Marcos and subse-
quently to the chair of the philosophy of mathematics and to that of polit-
ical science. He has given lectures in several Latin American universities—
Buenos Aires, La Plata, Cordoba, México, Chile, Central Venezuela, and
others—in European universities—Oxford, Cambridge, London, Rome, the
Sorbonne, and the College de France—as well as the University of New
York at Buffalo.
He is a member of the Peruvian Academy of Language as well as a
corresponding member of the Royal Spanish Academy of Language. In
1942 he was one of the founders of the Peruvian Philosophical Society and
has been its president several times.
Mir6 Quesada’s principal interest has been in the theory of knowl-
edge, but this interest has assumed a variety of expressions. He worked
first of all in the phenomenology of Husserl as is reflected in his work El
sentido del movimiento fenomenoldgico (1941). Later he became interested
in mathematical logic and wrote the first book in this field published in
Spanish America, Logica (1946). Later he turned to juridical logic and
wrote Problemas fundamentales de la logica juridica (1956) and Apuntes
para una teorta de la razon (1963), in addition to many essays and books.
His principal aim has been to achieve a systematic perspective of the
principles that govern rational knowledge. He claims that classical posi-
tions such as rationalism, positivism, pragmatism, dialectical philosophy,

145
146 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

and historicism have been surpassed by advances in scientific knowledge.

Miré Quesada uses the methodological procedures of modern logic and
recent metatheory to formulate a model of the structure of rational
thought that enables one to account for the result and the modalities of
the formal sciences as a first step for a general theory of rational knowl-
edge. More recently he has worked on the problem of synthetic a priori
judgments and has used Gédel’s theorem to prove the existence of this
type of judgment in mathematics.
In later years Miré Quesada’s attention was turned toward political
theory. In 1959 he published La otra mitad del mundo, the diary of a long
trip through the USSR and continental China. In 1970 he published
Humanismo y revolucion in addition to many other essays.
Miré Quesada’s political philosophy seeks to find a foundation for
political praxis that is more rigorous than that offered by Marxism, Chris-
tian socialism, and other contemporary views. In order to do this, he
attempts to formulate a concept of humanism independent of every meta-
physical position.
Mirdé Quesada’s view may be characterized as a neorationalism or
“dynamic rationalism” which is different from classical, Hegelian, and
phenomenological rationalism. This difference rests on the methodology
employed to establish conclusions as well as the views he has developed,
such as his theory of synthetic a priori judgments and his theory of evi-
dence and intellectual intuition.
Man without Theory

[THE FAILURE OF ALL THEORIES OF MAN]

Me cannot live without theory, for he is the theoretical animal par

excellence. Ancient wisdom characterized him as “rational
animal,” because theories were formulated by reason. No longer
does anyone hold that there are theoretical men and practical men, men
dedicated to thought and others dedicated to action. All men are theoret-
ical, only some know it and are distinguished by their determination to
develop theoretical perspectives, whereas others are satisfied to live sub-
merged in the theory and to use it to obtain pressing needs. Our life, how-
ever, is surrounded by theory. From our confidence in the firmness of the
earth we walk on, all is the fruit of theory, of scientific thought, of our
capacity to think about events and to interpret them. Thanks to theory we
are able to confront the world, to have a world, to predict events, manage
them, direct them, and take advantage of them. It is because there have
been men dedicated to discovering how the world is that the “practical
men” can dedicate themselves to modifying it through technology, a late
and secondary product of theory.
Theory, the knowledge of things and events, emerges as a necessity in
man’s defense against the assault of the world. Theory is born as a func-
tion of man and for man to find a perspective within the endless labyrinth
of events as he orders his world. He structures the world so he can reach
his self-proposed goals. He must know himself to know what he pursues
and what the true relationships to his world are. This is to say that every
theory concerning the world, concerning the things that surround him,

From Francisco Mir6é Quesada, El hombre sin teoria (Lima: Universidad Mayor de San
Marcos, 1959), pp. 14-31. Reprinted by permission of the author.

147
148 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

necessarily implies a theory concerning himself, for to think about the

world is to think about one’s self, since the world is only the terminus of
action. Furthermore, it is to think that thought has particular possibilities,
that it is capable of dominating specified situations. It is to think about
what is going to be done with the knowledge acquired about the world,
and to think about one’s own destiny.
However, at this point by their very nature things begin to be quite dif-
ferent, because the reality of man is infinitely more complex than that of
the world. To theorize about the world is much easier than to theorize
about man. In the surrounding world, simple patterns are more orT less
common, like the successions of various cyclical states such as day and
night, tides, and movements of the stars. Given this simplicity and regu-
larity, all theory can be verified, elaborate as it may be. One need only
deduce the various consequences implicit in the presuppositions. As long
as the consequences coincide with the facts one can continue to accept
the theory as true, but if the facts contradict it, then one will have to
reject, modify, or adapt the theory; otherwise it becomes untenable. This
process of verification is the foundation of all possible knowledge of real-
ities and is what has permitted man to evolve from the most primitive and
infantile theories to the present elaborate systems of physics, astronomy,
and biology.
The more complicated a segment of reality, the more difficult it is to
elaborate a theory that will account for it and allow man to know it. It is
more probable, also, that one will find a theoretical consequence that does
not coincide with the facts and will make the theory fail. However, by
means of corrections and reelaborations, it is always possible to improve
it and to adapt it to the new demands of the facts, achieving thereby a
knowledge of nature that is more or less uniform and progressive. When
we are concerned with human beings, however, this procedure is practi-
cally impossible. Because man’s complexity is such and the intertwining
of the facts that characterize him is so great that to elaborate a reasonably
acceptable theory concerning his nature, it becomes necessary to rely on
a dense skein of concepts and hypotheses. From this theoretical mire an
endless series of consequences unfold that must be correlated with the
facts about man. And in the long run the facts ruin the theory because,
unfortunately, some and often many of the consequences of the theory
contradict the facts. In addition to this insuperable difficulty, there is
another that is perhaps even greater, the phenomenon of freedom. Human
\freedomlis not a theory, it is a fact—the fact of the unpredictability of our
actions. Whereas in nature the smooth, simple recurrences ofphenomena
permit astounding predictions, the possibility of man making decisions
that go counter to what is foreseen makes it impossible to achieve rigorous
knowledge of what we are. In principle, every man can show any theory
 Francisco Miré Quesada 149

concerning man to be inadequate. All he has to do is act so as to contra-

dict what the theory permits one to predict concerning his actions. In
some cases, of course, the predictions are fulfilled, but it is on a superfi-
cial or pathological level. Ultimately, no one can predict anything con-
cerning what a human being will do. Yet, the essence of theory consists
in deriving consequences, that is, making predictions. Lh wa
However, if formulating theories about man is such a difficult and
demanding task, all our other theories concerning the world and life also
incur a subtle, grave danger. For, as we have seen, to formulate a theory
concerning nature one must presuppose something about man himself,
about his capacity to formulate theories and about life’s purpose that is
his lot to pursue. Every radical change in the theory of man leads
inevitably to change in our way of seeing the world, and this produces
insecurity and distress. For, to change a theory concerning the world
forces us to recognize that what we believed is not so certain, that the
earth we walk on has suddenly become moving sand in which we may
sink. Further, to have to change our perspective on ourselves forces us to
recognize that we wereinerror, that what we believed was eternally true
about our possibilities and destiny has been seriously questioned. Sud-
denly, as with the psychopath, we are strangers to ourselves, we no longer
recognize ourselves. Nothing is more terrifying to man than to discover
that he is not what he believed he was. For years, centuries, perhaps even
millennia, he struggled for security only to have it dissolved in a gust of
mysterious theoretical wind. Hence the furor, the resentment, and the
hatred toward those who dare attack this security, for without it we are
not able to live....
The process in which theories concerning man dissolve is inflexible
and its successive stages are easily describable. The first step is the gen-
eral elaboration of the theory. In a majority of cultures this step has been
simple and spontaneous. In the modern world it is conscious and has sci-
entific and philosophical pretensions, as for example in Nazism, fascism,
and Marxism. In all cases, however, the point of departure is the same: a
tangled mass of extremely complicated hypotheses that are taken to be the
sublime, incontrovertible, and definitive truth. For some people this truth
is of a divine origin and in some cases these hypotheses seem quite simple
when first proposed... .
In order to understand these issues, it is important to have a clear con-
cept of what a theory is, especially of the relationship between a theory
and its logical implications. As we have seen, a theory is a series of
hypotheses about some aspect of reality, and it may be restricted or broad
and encompassing. Once the hypotheses have been formulated a series of
consequences can be derived logically. The fundamental aspect of this log-
ical derivability is the immensity of its range, since, beginning with a
150 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

small number of hypotheses one can derive innumerable consequences,

so many, in fact, that they are practically infinite. This is the main char-
acteristic of any theory whatever, constituting its — as well as its

of derivation, atomic energy has been developed,so , that it will be pos-

sible within a few years to improve the world in unforeseen ways or to
destroy it by pressing a button. Through this strange and almost magical
power we have made airplanes fly, we have burned witches, invented the
telescope and the microscope, committed atrocious genocides, saved mil-
lions of lives, and made martyrs of millions of human beings.
\A.theory’s power ofderivationiis so immense that it is difficult to
understand without a concrete example. If we take arithmetic as an
example, it will be sufficient to clarify what we want to say. Those who
know what mathematical theories are and how they are organized know
that all, absolutely all arithmetical knowledge can be derived from the
seven postulates of Peano. These hypotheses are extraordinarily simple
and can be understood by a child. However, in spite of being only seven,
an immense number of conclusions is derived from them, a number so
great that, although our knowledge of arithmetic has been increasing for
2,500 years, it still continues to increase, and will continue to increase in
the coming centuries. Aside from being numerous, the consequences are
so complicated that no one can foresee where they will eventually lead.
This example permits us to see clearly the incalculable power of a theory,
for, once hypotheses are formulated, we can deduce an incalculable
number of conclusions from them by means of logic.
This example demonstrates that from a few, simple hypotheses one
can derive an infinite number of consequences that because they are so
rich and numerous are unforeseeable, for once the hypotheses are formu-
lated, no one can foresee what the future consequences will be. These
consequences follow a rigorous, logical line and as the investigators con-
tinue to deduce them, their derivation follows necessarily from the
hypotheses. However, no one can foresee what the consequences will be
or where they will lead. If this is true in the case of a theory that has only
seven, very simple hypotheses, what would happen with a theory con-
cerning man that, as we have seen, consists of a great number of compli-
cated hypotheses?
Let us turn now to a third dimension of all theories about man, their
strange quality and inevitable failure. To obtain security in the world and
to make headway “through life’s complexities, man elaborates a compli-
cated theory concerning himself. The complication is inevitable because
man, the subject of the theory, is the most complicated being in the uni-
verse. Due to the inextricable complications of being human, every theory
concerning man is incomplete, in spite of its inevitable complication.
 Francisco Miré Quesada 151

Because of this incompleteness and because the theory is so complicated,

the number of consequences derived from it is overwhelming. The lia-
bility, however, is not found in the number of the consequences, but in
their unpredictability. Thus, in the case of arithmetic, or for that matter all
mathematical theories, even though the hypotheses are few and simple,
the consequences are so numerous that they become unforeseeable and
leave the most perceptive minds stupefied. In the case of theories as com-
plicated as those concerned with man, however, this impressive array of
consequences must be multiplied to infinity. And this has always been
true. Due to the complexity of the theories he has elaborated concerning
himself, man has drawn very odd, strange, and stupefying conclusions
concerning his own being. Beginning with hypotheses that for him were
more or less evident, man has come to conclusions that in the beginning
were quite foreign to his thought. We only need to review history to sup-
port the claim that the doctrines man has elaborated concerning himself
have carried him to unanticipated extremes. Calvinism, for example,
begins with ascetic principles but comes to the inevitable conclusion that
wealth is a sign of having been chosen by God for salvation. From this
perspective to modern colonialism is only a small step, a step that natu-
rally was taken in the most sincere conviction of its being just. Think for
example of the strange character of funeral rituals, of human sacrifices, of
the auto-da-fé, of the differences of sexual morality that exist in diverse
cultures, of religious wars. One must recognize that all these actions that
seem so foreign to the points of departure are only their inevitable conse-
quences. They lead to the failure of the theory, because given their great
quantity, there comes a point at which the theory is obviously opposed to
the facts. And then man ceases to believe in them or he tries to adapt
them, if he can, to new demands. We must recognize that every theory
concerning man is\incompleté and thus has inherent limitations. However,
because the theory is so complex it allows for the derivation of unexpected
consequences, and in the long run one of the consequences will be evi-
dence in support of the limitation or imperfection of the theory. Since man
is such a complex reality, in the first theorizing efforts consequences usu-
ally coincide with the facts, but even if they do not one can pretend they
do. The theory however, like Pandora’s box, continues producing conse-
quences that are added to the initial hypothesis, in turn leading to other
more complex and wondrous consequences until it would seem the whole
theoretical machinery had gone wild. A theory, however, is inflexible] the
most inflexible thing in the world, much more so than machines or the
will of man, and once placed in motion it has a terrifying force, like a
monster that devours everything and can be detained by nothing. In a
spontaneous manner as generally happens, or in a conscious manner,
once the primitive hypotheses have been formulated, the consequences
i Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

unfold and continue to do so without stopping, falling like grenades on a

battlefield with increasing precision and explosive potential. It is as if man
were a spider and the theory were his web, but a web that continued to
expand unceasingly until it had imprisoned him in its own strands and
slowly, inevitably asphyxiated him. When this happens, he realizes for the
first time that the complicated theory that he created concerning himself
is betraying him. Man does not create theories for his pleasure. He creates
theories as a fundamental way of life, for itis his method ofovercoming
the chaos of existence. When consciously ‘and often implicitly in secular
pursuits, he ‘elaborates a theory concerning himself, his nature, his rela-
tionship to the universe, or his ultimate destiny, it is in order to handle in
a more adequate fashion the dangerous complexity of his existence, in
order to feel more secure and well grounded. However, if the contrary
occurs, it means that this theory is Sees that it must be amplified,
restructured, or perhaps radically changed..
The history of humanity is an impressive succession of complicated,
yet false theories that man has woven around himself. Along the millennial
pathway of history, theories lay semidestroyed and rusted like military
equipment left behind by an army in retreat. Each great theoretical crisis,
each great change, each new development marks the shift from one culture
to another, from one age to another. In earlier days men were not suffi-
ciently aware of what was happening, although they were aware that
something was happening and expectantly waited the new. At times their
desires were implemented in a conscious, more or less rapid manner. At
other times, however, the restructuring process lasted centuries. Intuitively
men grasped the significance of the situation, but the mechanism for
restructuring was not grasped for two reasons: the lack of historical con-
sciousness, that is, awareness of the relationship between their worldview
and historic era, and the lack of understanding of what a theory is. In the
nineteenth century a great movement began that culminated in our day
and overcame both limitations. For this reason, in the present, in this
modern, troubled atomic era, the era of the machine and technology, we
are aware nevertheless of what is really happening. We have a clear under-
standing that history is a succession of ways of conceiving the world and
man, of ways considered absolute by men of different ages but that today
are no more difficult to understand than vague shadows. Our civilization,
therefore, is the most philosophical of all, because none has had as clear
an awareness of its limitation and relativity. In truth, our age is character-
istically an age of search, of disorientation, and of acute consciousness of
its negative traits. Contemporary man is one who experiences in his own
flesh the failure of a great theory concerning himself: European ratio-
nalism, in all its facets, from the liberalism of “laissez faire” to Nazism and
Marxism. Ortega has said of our age that it is an “age of disillusioned
 Francisco Mir6 Quesada 153

living,” but to be more precise we should say, “an age of disillusioned the-
orizing.” Scheler begins one of his books, perhaps his best, with the cele-
brated phrase, “Never has man been such an enigma to himself.”
Given this situation the inevitable question is “What shall we do?”
The depth of the question does permit a dogmatic answer. Indeed, per-
haps this essay should end here. However, to be human means to try
unceasingly to overcome every “non plus ultra” and since we do not wish
to deny our human condition, we have no alternative but to forge ahead.
Yet, before continuing we wish to emphasize that what follows is no more
than the point of view of a particular individual who, along with all other
individuals in this age, is faced with an immense problem that by its very
nature transcends any purely individual response.
The first thought that might come to mind, and perhaps a majority
already favors it, is to commit our efforts to the reconstruction of the old
theory, making it more comprehensive and adapting it to the demands of
our modern circumstance. Or, should this not be possible, to elaborate a
new theory that may or may not be related to the old or to earlier theo-
ries, but would constitute an organic system, capable of providing answers
to the most pressing questions and have the scope and flexibility neces-
sary to permit men of our day to work with the total range of their prob-
lems. In actual experience, the normal or spontaneous attitude always
develops a theory. So we, although disillusioned by theories, in seeing
ourselves in a bind, think of amplifying or creating theories, like men of
other ages. In this day, however, there is a difference: men of previous
ages were not aware of the relativity or limits of their theories, nor of the
horrible dangers implicit in creating a complicated theory concerning man
from which unforeseeable and mortal consequences were derived. Fur-
thermore, they did not suspect that their theories ran the same risks as all
preceding theories. Therefore they created under illusion, but in faith, and
so their theories had “vital force” and served to resolve human problems
since men believed in them and were convinced that all previous ages had
been in error whereas they were in the truth. In this day, however, we are
not convinced our position is unique, true, or definitive. Indeed, we know
that whatever we do, our theory about man will suffer the same end as
the others.
Yet, instead of searching for a new theory and instinctively following
the destiny of Sisyphus, what if we assume a completely different attitude?
Instead of inventing a new and dangerous theory, why not simply give up
formulating theories about ourselves? Now this proposal may well pro-
duce a scandal and for two good reasons. First, because man is so accus-
tomed to formulating theories about himself, to taking for granted that he
knows what he is, to feeling himself at the helm of a world of structures
and hierarchies, to renounce theory leaves him with the impression that
154 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

he is giving up the possibility of finding solutions, that he is spineless and

morally decadent, that he has given up the struggle for good and against
evil. Second, because it is believed, more for theoretical than practical
considerations, that no matter what man does he is condemned to theo-
rize and that he can give up everything except formulating a complete
concept of the world, of things, and of himself. It is believed that man
needs theory to live, that without it he flounders and does not know what
to hold on to, he is a lost soul on a ship without a rudder. For, although
he may deny theory, implicitly he is always constructing a system of con-
cepts for clarifying the meaning of his life.
To be sure, this second argument is much more powerful than the
first. Its strength, however, lies in its inclusive breadth, for its detailed
analysis of situations is slipshod. For example, if one analyzes all the ele-
ments constituting the world within which man includes himself, one sees
there are various dimensions. One dimension is the surrounding world.
This dimension, naturally, is undeniable. If man does not possess a
well-formulated theory concerning the surrounding world he is not even
able to walk down the street. The simple act of dodging an automobile
indicates the possession of a rather clear concept of the principles of
causality and the laws of dynamics. Further, our cultural crisis is not a
crisis in knowledge of the natural world. The cosmic world, our sur-
rounding environment is known with increasingly greater certainty and
vigor. It is perhaps the only part of our general vision of the world that at
present follows a linear evolution. We have reached such a comprehen-
sion of what physical theory is, that the elaboration of that type theory is
carried out in the awareness that in time it will be surpassed, and that it
will be necessary to amplify it to include new facts. For this reason, it is
possible that the nuclear emphasis of the old theory may be preserved
intact and that it may be possible to consider it as a special case of a new
theory. Some might believe that this procedure is applicable to the theory
about the nature of man, but, given the complexity of all anthropological
theory, this is not possible. Physical as well as mathematical theories are
very simple, since they are based on broad abstractive processes. There-
fore, this approach is not adequate for anthropological theory. However, if
we do not make use of it, we encounter the earlier objection, namely, that
every theory concerning the surrounding world presupposes an integrated
theory of the human being. Here we come to the crux of the issue, for if
this affirmation is true, then we will never be able to free ourselves from
a theory concerning ourselves and we will always return to that monoto-
nous, well-beaten path. This we believe to be false, because even though
it is undeniable that every theory concerning the cosmos presupposes a
theory concerning man, it does not presuppose necessarily that the theory
of the cosmos is complete. In order to grant validity to a theory about the
 Francisco Miré Quesada 155

cosmos, we must presuppose certain epistemological postulates, certain

beliefs concerning the structure and organization of our consciousness,
but in no way does such a theory necessarily include hypotheses about
the moral life or destiny of man. The most to be said is that from these
epistemological presuppositions, one can derive many consequences as to
the possibilities of knowing the world in general and even ourselves and
that these consequences may be positive or negative in some or in many
aspects. However, this does not invalidate our point of view because what
we are specifically trying to do is place brackets around our cognitive fac-
ulties insofar as these are applied to ourselves.
Man is so accustomed to living on the theoretical level that he does
not conceive the possibility of refraining from decisions about his own
nature and fundamental relationships with the surrounding world. Thus
he always finds arguments that justify his use of theories. In the present
case, those who deny the possibility of avoiding theory about man adduce
that this avoidance is impossible because determining one’s orientation in
the world without language is impossible. To establish interhuman
communication, whatever it may be, is impossible without speech, but
speech is in itself a theory. The philosophical analysis of language shows
unequivocally that every expressive system acquires its ultimate meaning
from theoretical presuppositions about the nature of the world and of
man. Thus the very possibility of language implies the immersion of the
human being in a complete theory concerning himself, a theory that refers
not only to his objective relationship with the environing world, but also
to his norms of action and destiny. Philological analysis of the most trivial
words reveals, in a surprising way at times, the immense background of
cosmological, metaphysical, and ethical theory upon which all possible
language rests. The argument, then, would seem to be definitive: man
cannot live without an orientation in the world and to seek an orientation
in the world requires a specific theory concerning the physical structure of
the cosmos. This theory, however, cannot be elaborated without language,
but language is the great, universal theory, the expression of what in the
ultimate, collective, anonymous, and therefore inevitable sense man
believes about the world and himself. Thus, it is impossible to live as a
human being without presupposing certain theoretical axioms concerning
our nature and our destiny.
The inference from this last bulwark of the theory is sound. The error,
however, is not found in the conclusion but in the point of departure. The
error is found in the lack of theory as to what a theory is. For if one ana-
lyzes what a theory really is one sees immediately that it is always pos-
sible to do without it. Better said, there are two classes of theories, one |
that is implicit and spontaneous, formulated by the primitive collective
mind that creates language, and the other is \conscious,\ elaborated and
156 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

created for specific purposes of knowledge. The first cannot be avoided,

but the second can and thisis our concern. The first cannot be avoided
because it is implicit in language and it is impossible to do without lan-
guage. Even if it is a theory that decisively influences our manner of
seeing the world and of being ourselves, it is an implicit, practically
unconscious theory, a theory so remote that we have forgotten its true
meaning. Words that in a primitive beginning embodied terrifying revela-
tions about nature, about the world, and about ourselves are now applied
mechanically to specific, concrete objects. “To exist” signifies etymologi-
cally, “to place oneself outside himself.” Enormous theoretical ranges are
implicit in this meaning. Nevertheless, for the man who is not specialized,
who does not meditate philosophically on the meanings of words, “to
exist” means simply “to live” if he refers to a human being and “to be
real” if he refers to things. “Devil” meant “slanderer” for the primitive
man. Much feeling is wrapped up in this meaning. However, in modern
Western languages when speaking of the devil, one does not think specif-
ically of a slanderer in spite of the biblical passage in which the devil
tempts Eve, slandering God. In pursuing the analysis of the primitive
meaning of language, one comes to the following conclusion: as consti-
tuted, language is an original theory about the world and ourselves, a
theory containing ethical and metaphysical principles. In an indirect and
inevitable manner it influences our manner of being. This influence is
weakened by distance and by forgetting the primitive meanings. With the
passage of time, with the progress of expressive flexibility, in the coming
of the scientific spirit words acquire a new seal, a precise meaning of asso-
ciative reference to things, persons, and actions over their primitive,
vague, and metaphorical meaning. Therefore, in spite of the theoretical
“pressure” of language, we are quite capable of overcoming the primitive
worldview. Thus, any of our Western languages of Indo-European origin
presupposes in its beginning a theological vision of the world, a special
conception of “being” and a specified taxonomy of moral values and dis-
values centered in a paternalistically organized society. These meanings
are so worn by time and so covered with semantic accumulations that it
is perfectly possible for a Western man to see the world in a completely
different manner. To be sure, the liberation can never be complete,
although it is sufficiently radical that the Indo-European origin of our lan-
guages does not oblige us to consider a man a scoundrel who does not
believe in God or who believes, with respect to sexual morality, that men
and women have equal rights. This shift is the focus of our concern.
Let us now take a look at the other type of theory, conscious theory or
if one prefers “scientific-philosophical” theory in a very broad sense. Every
theory formulated by man about the world, life, and its destiny belongs to
this type of theory. Every human being, in addition to the theoretical back-
 Francisco Mir6o Quesada 157

ground imposed by language, lives subsumed in some scientific-philo-

sophical theory, although an analysis of the human situation shows quite
readily that it is also possible to avoid this type theory. To do this only a
clear concept of the epistemological significance of the word “theory” is
needed. Every theory presupposes the existence of “facts” and although
facts cannot be interpreted without a theory, this does not prevent them
from existing as such. A completely convincing example is that in spite of
the change in theories, facts remain the same. Thus, the orbital path of
Jupiter can be explained by Newton’s theory as well as by Einstein’s
theory of generalized relativity. Nevertheless, in spite of the difference
between these two theories, Jupiter’s orbital path, as fact, remains the
same. It can be explained also by primitive concepts, for example, as the
movement of a lamp carried by a nocturnal god as he travels his circular
path through the firmament. Still, all men will inevitably see Jupiter in the
same manner, and in seeing it they will consciously or unconsciously for-
mulate some theory about it. The facts are nevertheless undeniably there;
the blue of the sky, the white of the clouds, the brilliance of the light, the
green of the fields are facts that are seen alike by all men in spite of the
theories.
Just as in nature, in spite of the change of theories or perhaps pre-
cisely because of this change, one can clearly identify the facts, so in the
human realm the facts remain stable over against the changes in the
understanding of life. Between the theory whose consequences lead to the
sacrifice of human lives and the theory that interprets such action as intol-
erable there is, to be sure, a significant distance. Nevertheless, all men
who lived with these theories have undeniable characteristics in common.
All were capable of suffering and rejoicing, all wept and laughed at least
once in their life. All spoke, all felt emotions, all loved and hated at one
time or another. One might object that in these affirmations we are for-
mulating a theory, for to affirm that all were men is to universalize a con-
cept of man. For among savages there are many groups that do not con-
sider others to be human, but see them as animals, and some tribes even
see themselves as dispossessed of the human condition. To this, however,
we respond that what presupposes a theory is not the description of the
facts, but dividing men into men and other things. For one must have a
theory that is thoroughly elaborated and proclaimed with zealous fanati-
cism in order to come to believe that a person that speaks as we speak and
communicates with us is not equal to us. In such interpretations of the
facts, complicated ethico-metaphysical theories of the totem and the taboo
are at play. If one insists that the universal application of the word “man”
is the direct or indirect implication of some theory, we can dispense with
the term. We only need observe the facts directly: there is something ani-
mated that laughs and cries, sings and shouts, hates and loves, suffers and
158 Part II: Philosophical Anthropology

rejoices, and above all speaks and communicates with others by means of
symbols. And this type of animated something we decide to call “man.”
We presuppose nothing concerning its nature, origin, destiny, or obliga-
tions. There it is before us with curious demeanor, mysterious gestures,
and different looks. Its history develops through the centuries, elaborating
strange theories for which it has strong attraction, an attraction that is so
strong that in support of their truth it is capable of anything, even of
killing and torturing a fellow man. However, just as some men are capable
of killing and torturing to support a theory, others are incapable of doing
so in spite of all theories, in spite of all the demands and pressures of their
environment. There are men who love other men and there are others that
do not feel any special love but nevertheless rebel and draw back in the
face of suffering and injustice. Within the range of these attitudes of cru-
elty and brotherhood man displays all his possibilities. All human life is
tinted with these two attitudes that are like the two ultimate but opposing
colors of an infinite spectrum. When man takes hold of a-theory to justify
his desire to make others suffer, he descends to the level of the demonic.
When he rises to the level of self-sacrifice in order to prevent the suffering
of others, he attains sainthood. Between these two extremes are all other
men. This is the great fact, the formidable fact of the human condition
down through history. Through all changes and ages, all cultural cycles
and crises, all great achievements and catastrophes, we find the same fact:
there are men who make others suffer and there are men capable of suf-
fering so that others will not suffer. There are men who struggle against
man and there are men who struggle for man. This fact follows two pos-
sibilities, two ways from which to choose: One can decide either to exploit
man or to defend him. These are the fundamental attitudes. All others
belong in some degree to these two, for even indifference is the zero point
at which one attitude shifts into the other. The course of history is guided
by the way men have organized to implement some gradation of these two
activities.
PART III
Values
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Introduction

oward the end of the nineteenth century, the problem of values

acquired special prominence. Since then, this importance has con-
tinued to increase because of the impact this problem has had on other
areas of philosophy, especially ethics, aesthetics, and the philosophy of law.
In Latin America, interest in the problem of values emerged, in great
part, as a result of the impact of works by French and German authors.
The earliest influences came through the French sociologism of Durkheim
and Bouglé and led eventually to social subjectivism. However, with the
rejection of positivism, which came to be associated with the French soci-
ologism of Durkheim and Levy-Bruhl, social subjectivism suffered a
gradual decline, and new philosophical currents from Germany—Husserl,
Scheler, and N. Hartmann—replaced it. The Revista de Occidente and in
particular its editor, José Ortega y Gasset, exercised an influential role in
this change. “What Are Values?” an article published in the Revista in
1923, is the point of departure for the objectivist, absolutist conception of
value in the Hispanic world.
With insight and enthusiasm, Ortega summarized and supported
Scheler’s position. Scheler was heavily influenced by Husserl’s phenome-
nology and in particular by his doctrine of essences. However, whereas
Husserl maintained that essences are grasped through intellectual intu-
ition (Wesenschau), Scheler emphasized the role of emotional intuition in
grasping essences. Ortega maintains that values, like triangles, “are trans-
parent natures. We see them immediately and as a whole... . For this
reason, mathematics is an a priori science of absolute truths. Therefore,
evaluation or the science of values, also will be a system of evident and
invariable truths, of a type similar to mathematics.”!
Ortega’s support of a theory of immutable essences and a priori,

161
162 Part III: Values

absolute forms of knowledge is surprising. When writing this article on

values, existentialist and historicist thinkers were already important for
him, and he had begun to elaborate his “perspectivism,” which led even-
tually to his notion of “vital reason.” And “vital reason” necessitates the
rejection of immutable and absolute essences in favor of concrete dimen-
sions of human existence, as these are conceived by historicism and exis-
tentialism.
Even at this early stage, Ortega enjoyed an enviable reputation in
Latin America and his views on axiological issues were not taken to con-
stitute a mere theory among others but rather as the indisputable truth.
That value was an essence that could be grasped through emotional intu-
ition was accepted as fact and very few questioned its a priori and
absolute nature. A similar attitude was taken toward the hierarchy of
values espoused by Ortega that had been derived from Scheler’s a priori,
absolute stance. There were a few isolated instances of rebellion, as in the
case of Korn and Caso, but they did not have significant influence.
Absolute objectivism was the accepted truth in university courses and
textbooks. Husserl’s criticism of psychologism and of John Stuart Mill in
particular had a profound effect on Latin American thought, particularly
since positivism was being rejected in all its forms.
In addition to the above, another important development supported
the interest in values and their objective interpretation. Positivism tried to
separate values from human reality in order to apply freely the methods
of natural science to the study of humans. Thus, the German philosopher
R. H. Lotze (1817-1881) maintained that values are independent of nature
and summarized his views in a proposition that maintained its influence
for many years to come, namely, “values do not exist, rather they are valu-
able.” This separation prepared the ground in Germany for insisting on the
radical distinction between the natural sciences (Naturwissenschaften)
and the human sciences (Geisteswissenschaften). Windelband, Rickert,
Dilthey, and other German philosophers insisted on this distinction, a dis-
tinction that was accepted and taught in Latin America without major
opposition or criticism. The natural sciences, it was argued, are value-free
whereas the human sciences are value-oriented. In this way, the theory of
values or axiology is converted into one of the principal instruments for
understanding the human world. Axiological typologies such as those of
E. Spranger emerged and value, in addition to the defining role it played
in aesthetics and ethics, became indispensable in the fields of cultural
anthropology, sociology, law, philosophy of religion, and history
The introduction of value into the aforementioned fields complicates
those fields, because the nature of value is complex. Even the most basic
questions concerning value are difficult to answer. For example: Do we
desire things because they have value or do they have value because we
 Introduction 163

desire them? Do we confer value on things because we like them, desire

them, or have some interest in them, or do all our reactions arise from
qualities found in the object that we perceive—as occurs with primary
qualities in visual perception? When we do not look at an object, we sup-
pose that its qualities remain in it, ready to be seen as soon as we look
again at the object. So-called axiological objectivism supports this prin-
ciple, i.e., values depend on the object and the subject merely grasps the
value. Subjectivism, on the other hand, claims that values are the result
of our individual and collective responses.
The subjectivist asks: Can something have value if no one has per-
ceived it nor can perceive it? Real or potential valuation seems to be an
indispensable element in the concept of value, for it is unthinkable that
something should have value without reference to any kind of subject.
Objectivism recognizes that valuation is subjective, but this does not
imply that value itself is subjective. In the same way that perception is
subjective whereas the object perceived is not, because the primary qual-
ities remain intact when no one perceives the object, the value of a given
object remains intact independently of the subject who is judging that
object to be of value, or evaluating it. Just as we should not confuse the
perception of a given object with the object itself, we must not mistake the
valuation of a given object with its value.
Between the extremes of a radical subjectivism and an a priori,
absolute objectivism that converts values into entities similar to mathe-
matical entities, there are many different views. Among them is the social
subjectivism of Durkheim that had its origin in France toward the begin-
ning of the century. According to this view the isolated individual does not
confer value on an object, for this is the task of a specific community or
society. Individuals acquire valuations from their cultural environment.
Bouglé, Levy-Bruhl, and other French sociologists developed Durkheim’s
ideas in order to establish the social character of morality that for them is
rooted neither in a priori forms nor in individual caprice. This view is rep-
resented in Latin America by Antonio Caso, who preferred to call it social
objectivism because the value is objectified in the collective conscious-
ness. The truth is that it is a form of subjectivism that is social rather than
individual. Objectivism presupposes the recognition of qualities that are
found in the objects.
Axiology had its beginnings toward the end of the last century in Aus-
tria and Germany. At that time, Meinong and von Ehrenfels, supported by
the psychologism of the day, gave axiology a decidedly subjectivist bent.
However, their axiological studies did not have great influence in Latin
America. It was the French sociologism referred to above, as presented in
the work of Durkheim, Bouglé, and Levy-Bruhl, that took root in Latin
America and shaped the development of value theory there.
164 Part II: Values

As psychologism lost its predominant role in Europe, and Husserl

“refuted” it in his Logical Investigations (Logische Untersuchungen, 1900,
1913), philosophical views with a phenomenological orientation, which
considered values as essences, came to the fore. Scheler was the first to
present this view in Der Formalismus in der Ethik und die materiale
Wertethik. The first part was published in 1913 in the Jahrbuch edited by
Husserl and the second part was published in 1916. This lengthy, impor-
tant work was translated into Spanish in 1941 under the title Etica, making
absolute objectivism more widely known. Scheler’s perspective found
additional support in Nicolai Hartmann’s Ethik, published in 1926.
Although the latter was not translated into Spanish until much later, it was
influential in Latin American university circles.
The views of these two German philosophers created the environment
in which the problem of value was discussed in Latin America. However,
through the influence of Heidegger’s historicism and Sartre’s existen-
tialism, the absolutist and a priori conceptions of value based on the views
of Scheler and Hartmann began to lose their prestige. The Argentine
Carlos Astrada was one of the first Latin American followers of the exis-
tentialism of Heidegger, under whom he studied at Freiburg. He formu-
lated an incisive criticism of Scheler’s axiology in his book La ética formal
y los valores (1938). The Uruguayan Juan Llambias de Acevedo, however,
defended Scheler in an article written in 1952. The article reflects both a
sound grasp of Scheler’s position and enthusiastic adherence to it. The
supposed refutation of axiological objectivism by existentialism was one
of the main themes of the Third Inter-American Congress held in Mexico
in 1950.
After that, the discussion became less intense and the problem was
approached from other perspectives. Logical empiricism and subsequently
analytic philosophy became more prevalent, although both traditions are
contrary to an objective, absolute understanding of value and are oriented
toward semantic analysis. Given these shortcomings, discourse ethics in
the style of the German philosopher Jiirgen Habermas has taken root, with
many contemporary Latin American ethicists having spent time in Ger-
many studying under Habermasian ethicists. Another important influence
upon contemporary currents of value study has been Ernst Tugendhat.
The authors included in this section share a rejection of positivism
and the development of value theories suited to the Latin American con-
text. Thus they have helped to develop a Latin American philosophical tra-
dition. The purpose of this section is to introduce the figures who shaped
Latin American value theory in the particular fields of ethics, aesthetics,
and philosophy of law.
 Introduction 165

Alejandro Korn

Korn is the only Latin American philosopher who openly defends a sub-
jectivist position. He maintains that “value is the object of valuation” and
“valuation is the reaction to an event” and an event is “a manifestation of
the will.” In his discussion, aesthetic values are not considered.
Korn affirms that absolute, universal values exist only in an act of
thought or imagination, since the only values we actually have are histor-
ical, changing, and relative. The same fact is evaluated differently by dif-
ferent subjects, and it is natural that this should be the case since each
person responds in his own way. Valuations are therefore individual and
vary with the changing stages and circumstances of life. There are also
social, communal, and national evaluations.
He claims that the historical transmutation and the differences among
contemporary values prove there are no fixed values. The supposed
immutable values are no more than projections of one’s ideals and desires
or those of our society or historical age.
Since values are subjective, so is the hierarchy of values. Throughout
history, the supreme value has changed from time to time. “In reality, no
objective hierarchy exists, although we have the right to establish one on
our own,” that is, arbitrarily.
One might object to Korn’s thesis by pointing out that what he has
described is true as a psychological or sociological description of valua-
tion. However, there are erroneous evaluations and, if this is the case, one
cannot reduce value to valuation. Inevitably, one must consider the qual-
ities of the valued object, since the adequacy of the evaluation depends on
these qualities.

Alejandro Deustua

The Peruvian Alejandro Detstua did not develop a theory of value, but
chose to analyze a specific axiological experience, in this case, aesthetic
experience. In La idea de orden y libertad en la historia del pensamiento
humano as well as in Estética general, from which the selection in this col-
lection has been taken, Detistua evaluates human activity on the basis of
the fundamental concepts of liberty and order. He sees aesthetic activity
as free creation in which one achieves the highest degree of freedom.
Freedom, however, does not exclude order, for it is an ideal order. Fur-
thermore, there can be no beauty if there is no freedom. Art thus becomes
the highest expression of human activity. In all other human activities,
such as economics, science, and religion, freedom is subordinate to prin-
ciples, norms, or laws. As an intrinsic value, aesthetic value is “essentially
disinterested” and is, therefore, the highest of all values. Its freedom rests
166 Part III: Values

upon the emancipation from ends that might restrict it. Aesthetic activity
embodies the “value of values.”

Carlos Vaz Ferreira

The extensive work of Vaz Ferreira, a leading Uruguayan philosopher,

does not provide a systematic analysis of fundamental problems in axi-
ology. In the reprinted passages from Fermentario he refers indirectly to
moral value with the term “optimism of value” that is opposed to the
“optimism of succes.” His approach is a condemnation of moral pes-
simism. For Vaz Ferreira there is undeniable moral progress. The view that
denies such progress, pace Ferreira, stems from an erroneous evaluation
according to which the past is idealized by the imagination and purified
through a forgetting of all that is objectionable.
With the passage of time, humanity has multiplied its ideals, and dis-
satisfaction with some of those ideals creates a pessimistic outlook on the
present. The conflict of ideals is difficult to resolve. Therefore, according
to Vaz Ferreira, we must resign ourselves at the present to conflicting
moral demands, which stem from a conflict in values.

Miguel Reale

The Brazilian philosopher of law Miguel Reale approaches axiology by

way of law. In his Filosofia do direito (1953), he distinguishes between
judgments of existence and judgments of value. The former refer to being
and the latter to what ought to be. He rejects Hartmann’s interpretation
that value is an ideal object. Ideal objects are independent of space and
time whereas values are linked to valuable things. In addition the former
are quantifiable and the latter are not. He believes that value, like being,
cannot be defined because it is a fundamental category, and he repeats
with Lotze that “value is what is valuable.” According to Reale, the char-
acteristics of value are: bipolarity, implication, referrability, preferability,
incommensurability, and hierarchical ordering. He carefully unpacks the
meaning of each of these terms in the selection included here.

NOTE
1, José Ortega y Gasset, “Qué son los valores?” Obras completas (Madrid:
Revista de Occidente, 1947), 6:333.
Alejandro Korn
(1860-1936)

|:spite of having written relatively little, Korn was the philosopher of

the greatest prestige in Argentina during the first half of the twentieth
century. His influence was personal and Socratic. He made his impact not
only in the world of ideas but also in that of action. Pedro Henriquez
Urena referred to him correctly as “a teacher of knowledge and virtue.”
Korn was born in San Vincente, in the province of Buenos Aires, in
1860. He was the son of a German doctor who had emigrated for political
reasons. He died in La Plata in 1936 in his house on Avenue 60, sur-
rounded by friends and disciples. He received a degree in medicine at the
age of twenty-three in Buenos Aires. After practicing medicine in several
towns, he settled in the city of La Plata, which had recently been founded.
He limited his practice to psychiatry and became the director of the State
Hospital of the Alienated in Melchor Romero. In 1916 he resigned this
position and retired, setting aside his medical career.
In 1906 he had been designated assistant professor of history of phi-
losophy in the College of Philosophy and Letters at the University of
Buenos Aires. In 1909 he was named full professor. Some years later he
also was appointed to the chair of epistemology and metaphysics, and
after the university reform of 1918 he was elected dean of the faculty. He
retired from these responsibilities in 1930.
Although Korn’s early orientation was positivistic, he soon overcame
this perspective through his interest in literature and metaphysics and his
reading of the works of German and Spanish mystics. The Critique of Pure
Reason convinced him of the impossibility of any knowledge of metaphysics,
but he remained torn by a deep inclination toward metaphysics that he knew
he could not satisfy. His theoretical caution and his critical spirit prevented
his falling into philosophical utopias and hypostasis, as can be seen in his

167
168 Part Ill: Values

theory of knowledge and in the passages from his axiology that are incorpo-
rated here. This attitude also gave an ironic quality to his terse, limpid prose.
His principal works are Influencias filosdficas en la evolucién nacional
(1912-14); La libertad creadora (1920-22); his fundamental work, Axi-
ologia (1930); and Apuntes filoséficos (1935), where he summarizes his
thought in a clear form and in a simple style. He wrote many articles and
bibliographical reviews that were published in journals, principally in Va-
loraciones of La Plata.
Korn was a major influence in overcoming the theoretical limitations
of positivism, the predominant philosophy in Argentina at the beginning of
the century. However, he did not limit himself to criticizing it, as was the
case with many others; rather, he developed a theory that went beyond it.
The problem of freedom attracted him not only for its theoretical
importance, but also because of its impact in ethics and politics. The influ-
ence of Kant is evident at this point. Korn affirms that the objective world
obeys necessary laws, whereas the subjective world lacks such laws and
is free, hence the desires and resolutions of the subjective world cannot
be foreseen. But the freedom of the self is that of wanting, not that of
doing. The self aspires to actualize freedom, with science and technology
as the instruments of that liberation. Korn refers to this process of libera-
tion as “economic freedom.” Man must also free himself from his own
impulses, appetites, and passions and he does this by means of the moral
law that he imposes upon himself in free choice. For Korn, there is no pos-
sibility of ethics without freedom. Economic liberty and ethical liberty are
not opposed to each other, rather they interpenetrate. Nevertheless, one
must distinguish between them because the useful is not always good nor
is the good always useful. United, however, they constitute human liberty.
“To actualize absolute freedom through economic dominion’s conquest of
nature and through ethical self-dominion and therefore submit necessity
to freedom” is the goal of the process of liberation that is creative. Hence,
this can be called a “creative freedom.”
In axiology he was the main representative of subjectivism, to which
he adhered when the absolute and a priori objectivism of Scheler was pre-
dominant, since Scheler’s view had been introduced into the
Spanish-speaking world by Ortega y Gasset. Korn’s position can be sum-
marized in his affirmation: “Value is the object of an evaluation.” He
refers to the existence of absolute and universal values in an ironic tone,
since he believed that they have only a changing, historical existence.
Korn’s influence remains alive through his writings and his followers.
The greatest of these, without a doubt, was Francisco Romero, who suc-
ceeded to Korn’s chairs in epistemology and metaphysics at the University
of Buenos Aires. Romero wrote, “In Argentine philosophy, the significance
of Korn is exceptional and allows for no comparisons.”
 Philosophical Notes

[VALUE AS THE OBJECT OF A VALUATION]

\/aluation is the humanjfeaction|to a fact or an event. This subjective

reaction, which grants or denies value, is the manifestation of the
will: it says, “I want it”or “I do not want it.” Value is the object—real or
ideal—of an affirmative valuation. aa
We use the term(“ ‘will’ to designate a psychological function, without
hypostasizing it. It is not an autonomous faculty, and still less is it a meta-
physical entity. It is the outcome of the psychic process and should, more
properly, be called volition. And it would be better yet to use only the verb
“to want” or “to desire,” in referring to the final act of affirming or
denying. Psychological analysis shows us, though not completely, the

more or less strongly, in the act of volition: biological needs, inherited

elem eat §

.atavisms, acquired habits or prejudices, persistent memories, emotive,

ethical, or aesthetic impulses, weighty reflections, odd suggestions, prac- |
tical interests, and the like. But the final synthesis is not so much the |
mechanical addition of such various factors, as it is the culmination of a
vital process, in which individual personality is revealed in its unprece-
dented and unrepeatable uniqueness. Once achieved, this synthesis comes
to dominate and direct the whole complex of psychical activity. Thus we
have a vicious circle. Wanting or desiring emerges from the psychical com-
plex, not as a servant, but as a master. It is like the way a historical per-
sonality arises from the nameless mass, on which he imposes his

From Alejandro Korn, Apuntes filosdficos, in Obras (La Plata: Universidad Nacional de La
Plata, 1938), 1:244-34.

169
 170 Part III: Values

authority, at the same time that he represents collective tendencies. The

will—which disintegrates under analysis—grasps the elements that make
it up so as to give them structure, unity, and meaning.
— Volition is explained as much by its causes as by its aims. It is sup-
ported by the past but is directed toward the future. It is not moved by the
facts themselves but by the valuation of them. The will can override the
claims of instincts and interests; it can counteract violent passions or set
aside wise, rational counsel. It postulates its own values—that is, its own
ends—and requires logical operations to provide it with appropriate
theory and suitable means. This is when it is strong, since when it is weak
it goes begging. Masterworks of fiction and drama serve better than psy-
chological treatises to reveal these happenings. And history, in offering
concrete and lively examples of the rule of will, shows us how it triumphs
or fails.
Will is neither the complete master of judgment nor the slave of
external forces. Here we leave the realm of theory to confront practical
problems of life. There are still those who dispute whether the act of voli-
tion is compelled or spontaneous. It is the old quarrel over determinism
and indeterminism, necessity and freedom. Too much time has been
wasted on it. In each case we certainly know in what way our will feels
restrained or free. We know when an oppression binds us and when we
follow our own impulses. Coercion and freedom are subjective states. If we
>were to speak objectively, it would be of necessity and contingency. We only
create confusion when we use these terms where they do not belong; to
give them absolute value is to exceed the limits of experience.
Coercion is the basic fact; liberty is the absence of coercion. In an
act—rare, to be sure—in which coercion is reduced to zero, we experience
the full delight of liberation. When, on the contrary, the act is entirely
compelled and opposed to our desires, it pains and oppresses us, until we
suffer the consciousness of servitude. We find an intermediate condition
in the normal course of life in which the degree of freedom one can
acquire is the measure of personal dignity. When an energetic will strives
to fulfill itself completely, it is overtaken by tragic conflicts.
It is only when people are conscious of coercion that they strike out
for freedom. Coercion does not pain us when it does not bother us or we
are not conscious of it or do not even feel it, or when we tolerate or even
approve it. Human beings have often tolerated, and still tolerate, coercions
that arouse protests, whether successful or not, in others. Coercion means
different things to different people. Great numbers of people may agree at
times, while at others a solitary voice hears no echo. A cave dweller may
well feel himself coerced if he has to exchange his cave for a hut. The sur-
vival of troglodytic atavisms at least permits us to imagine this. Even now,
many millions of the most oppressed and disinherited people do not feel
 Alejandro Korn 171

the weight of their chains. They have neither consciousness of servitude

nor desire for freedom. Their reaction is the same as that of the person
who, not experiencing the tyranny of his instincts, follows them like an
animal. Our tightest bonds are those within us.
One encounters coercion in all areas of human activity—whether
those areas be physical or biological, political or economical, emotional or
spiritual. Thus, man has to conquer freedom in combat with nature, with
his fellowmen, and with himself. But this assumes the goals of mastery of
the physical world, adequate organization of human coexistence, and per-
sonal autonomy. In each concrete case, the will has an affirmative or neg-
ative attitude, explicitly or implicitly, thoughtfully or impulsively, and well
or badly advised.
We need general concepts to examine, classify, and systematize the
indefinite number of valuations arising from all the shadings of individual
reactions. This is the mission of the theory of values—or axiology. Various
such efforts have been made with different criteria; they come to be evalu-
ations of valuations and, like them, have a personal character. Evaluations
necessarily differ, since each subject reacts in his own way. Different sub-
jects value the same fact in unexpected and contradictory ways; whatis
is bad for another. The fact itself is innocent of any such
bickering. It is hard to argue over the empirical reality of things: one
observes, one proves. But people dispute their valuations interminably,
without agreement. There is great wisdom in the bumpkin’s remark: “You
can’t convince me with reasons.” A psychiatrist would be mad to try to
cure madness with arguments. And the same rule applies to those who are
sane: each to his own tastes. People are always confusing the fact and the
valuation of it. Political economy is not concerned with the physical and
chemical properties of gold as they are scientifically determined; it just
endlessly discusses the value of gold. So it is with all axiological theories:
law, ethics, and aesthetics—above all history. Philosophy itself, the theory
of subjective action, is nothing other than axiology, once we separate it
from science and metaphysics. Thus there is no way to reduce philosophy
to a single expression.
Valuations are above all individual; each person is free to accept or
reject them. But the gregarious community of the species, the community
of psychological structure, the community of interests, the community of
historical antecedents—all these, more or less extensively, determine col-
lective valuations. One finds local, guild, and national valuations, just as
one finds personal valuations. But valuations also change in the same
person at different stages of his life and under different circumstances. It
is useless to recall historical mutations, not to mention that fads change
the current valuations every six months. Fads are not limited to clothes.
Are there then no absolute, universal, obligatory, and unchanging val-
72. Part III: Values

ues? They seem to exist, but as creations of naive idealism. They exist
insofar as we think them or imagine them. But in spatiotemporal reality,
there are only perpetually changing, relative, historical values. The
abstract concepts, which we use to put the world of values in order, are
always double: they set an unreal fact against a real fact. They imagine in
the distance the illusion of an end that is pursued but notreached; they
suppose that we have already fulfilled our desire. Let us take a concrete
example of what we see as an injustice. We immediately try to correct it.
If we generalize the case, we begin the process of mental abstraction, at
the limits of which we encounter the dualism of injustice and justice. But
the first term is abstracted from reality, and the second is only its nega-
tion. The just state would be one in which there were no injustices. Is
there anyone not eager for that? But we live in disagreement about what
is just and what is unjust. Only the will decides; only historical power
establishes the legal formula. And that for little time.
Humanity expresses its highest ve values in symbolic concepts; we do
not have to defame them with a contemptuous epithet. It is not fair to
deny satisfaction to the demands of feeling and faith, to deprive rhetoric
of its preferred expressions. They are not tall tales; they are myths. The
effective elimination of but one concrete injustice is worth more than all
digressions about the perfect state. And yet, myth is an emotive factor that
helps guide the historical process, when it is not used to avoid modest
daily chores.
In the following table of values there are nine pairs of basic valua-
tions, each of which has a historical fulfillment and an ideal concept. The
table is only an attempt; the number of fundamental valuations can be
increased or decreased.

HISTORICAL
VALUATIONS BASIC CONCEPTS FULFILLMENT IDEAL GOAL

I Economic Useful-Useless Technical Skill Well-Being

Biological II Instinctive Agreeable-Disagreeable Pleasure Happiness
Ill Erotic Lovable-Hateful Family Love

IV Vital Select-Common Discipline Power

Social V Social Permitted-Prohibited Law Justice

VI Religious Sacred-Profane Worship Holiness

VIl Ethical Good-Bad Morality Good
Cultural VIII Logical True-False Knowledge Truth
IX Aesthetic Beautiful-Ugly Art Beauty

It has been assumed that values form a hierarchy in which some are
 Alejandro Korn 173

subordinated to others, and all of them, perhaps, to a supreme value. Of

the nine basic affirmative values, there is not one that has not been put in
first place by some thinker. Economic, historical, vital, religious, logical,
ethical, and aesthetic values have been and still are the crux of certain
philosophical systems. Utilitarianism, hedonism, empiricism, rationalism,
mysticism, stoicism, aestheticism are all philosophical positions under the
hegemony of a value. There has never been a truly uniform evaluation in
the history of philosophy; they are all one-sided. There really is no objec-
tive hierarchy, although each of us has the right to decree one on his own
account.
Historically speaking, biological values have been the most urgent for
primitive man, when not the only ones.s.This is obvious. Other kinds of
values have been added—shall we say, superimposed?—little by little.
Nothing prevents us, if we like, from rating them higher. When man is
freed from economic servitude, higher values will probably impose them-
selves. But as each day dawns, people nowadays, exactly like their remote
ancestors, find themselves in the presence of the problem, not of exis-
tence, but of subsistence; economic value retains its rights. The anguish
of life is real, although it sets us empirical, rather than metaphysical prob-
lems. It requires us to act....
Action is will set to work in proportion to our power. The complex
process of psychic activity ends in a material goal. The arm carries out the
volition. By action man breaks his isolation, takes part in his world, con-
quers his well-being, repels aggression, and traces the limits of his
authority. Action is communion of subject and object, conjunction of the
ideal and the real. Action reestablishes psychophysical unity.
Theoretical examination of our knowledge of reality leaves us per-
plexed: we never hit upon certainty. Empirical facts, pure concepts, poetic
myths—all these, alike, dissipate under analysis. The ultimate nature of
things eludes us. Faith is a subjective conviction; logic ends in antinomies;
evaluations are contradictory. Neither the secret of the cosmos, nor the
secret of the soul, surrenders itself to us. Instead of solutions, we are
offered problems; doubt is our intellectual inheritance.
But action cuts the Gordian knot‘ It cuts it after meditative reflection
or by violent impulses, butin any Case as a matter of life and death. Thus
the problems evaporate. Action does not take place in a fictitious world; it
confronts what is present and concrete. Our space-time environment is
real: it both resists us and gives way to our effort. Because action is effi-
cacious, we do not argue in limbo. Existence is real because we conquer
it day by day. Conflict with our neighbor is real because it constrains and
threatens us. The unknown is real because it limits us at each step. The
fist that knocks down the obstacle is also real.
Action is justified by success, condemned by failure, and judged by its
174 Part III: Values

goal. It is subject to our valuation. Heroic actions have been carried out
in the name of superstition, and base actions in the name of high ideals.
Life does not depend on a theorem or creed; life is action. But action
for his acts; he is on target or misses,
depends on will; mans responsible
triumphs or yields. If he accepts life, he accepts its risks bravely or pusil-
lanimously, clearheadedly or stupidly. His sovereign will decides. Once
done the act is irrevocable; no god can erase it; it happened once and for
all; it is woven into the future for all eternity. One must accept and endure
its inexorable consequences.
Actionsisunavoidsbie. We have not sought the gift of existence. It is
by chance that we are born in a certain time and place, in a bare and fluffy
cradle, into hardship or luxury. We choose none of it. For better or worse
we find ourselves in our world. Those who are Tesponsible for us redeem
the sin by helping us get started. Then we are abandoned to our efforts.
We have scarcely sensed the happiness of living when we feel its pain. He
who takes account of it can reject his ambiguous destiny, or resign him-
self to it, or confront it boldly. There is an appropriate theory for each of
these attitudes, but the problem can only be resolved, negatively or affir-
matively, by action. Not to do anything is an action as heroic as to do
something. How can we escape the dilemma? The animal, and thus the
animal willfulness in each of us, chooses life at all costs. Perhaps man dis-
covers higher values in his consciousness or in the work of his predeces-
sors than those that are merely biological, perhaps the life for fulfilling
higher purposes. The values a man chooses express his personality, his
own value. And then perhaps his own life acquires worthwhile contents,
is justified, and comes to be appreciated.
Both history and personal experience prove that the instinct of self-
preservation requires one to affirm life, in spite of pain, and in spite of the
sentence we receive in bitter hours. Not even pessimistic negation spares
us action. We have no alternative but to choose our place in the contest.
We cando without theories, but not without action. “In the beginning was
action.” Not at the beginning of things, but at the beginning of human re-
demption. The species has forged its technical, human, and spiritual cul-
ture through action; and it is culture that enables us to pursue our eman-
cipation from all servitude. Culture is the work of will; will desires liberty.
Be it: Creative Liberty.!

NOTE
1. Reference to his own work, “La libertad creadora,” Verbum (1920), revised
and reedited several times.—Ep.
Axiology

[VALUATION]

\/aluation is a complex process in which all psychical activities par-

ticipate in various proportions, as part of a whole, until they are syn-
thesized in a volition. Psychological analysis can identify the confluence of
the most elemental biological impulses, the most instinctive appetites, the
most refined sensibility, the most prudent reflection, the most remote
memories, the most headstrong faith, the most idealistic or mystical
vision—all of which come together in the act of valuation, in the move-
ment of will that approves or repudiates. The genesis of valuation is influ-
enced by the historical moment in which we live, the collective atmos-
phere—cultural, ethnic, and associational—that envelops us, and the more
or less social features of our character. In short, there is a slippery, personal
dimension to valuation, which eludes all logical coercion. Although psy-
chological analysis, armed with the intuition of a Dostoyevski, may pene-
trate to the murkiest depths of the human soul, there will always remain
something, an undecipherable x. And this is to say nothing of those pro-
fessional psychologists who are condemned to skim the surface.
If we judge another person’s valuation to be naive or stupid, wise or
brilliant, this is a valuation in its own right. Even valuations that are per-
sonally repugnant to us—that strike us as paradoxical, cynical, or extrava-
gant—originate in a conscience that can declare them whenever it
assumes the responsibility. They do not bind us, to be sure; they cannot
even command our respect since we accept or reject them according to
our own judgment. A universal conscience can deny the most pampered
From Alejandro Korn, Axiologia, in Obras (La Plata: Universidad Nacional de La Plata, 1938),
1:129-44.

175
176 Part, III: Values

valuation, however attired in dogmatic authority. So many valuations,

originally scorned and vilified, come to win general assent. Many others
become silent, without echo, because they were isolated occurrences. We
should realize not only that the valuations of our contemporaries disagree
among themselves to infinity, but also that there is a continuing transfor-
mation of values throughout successive generations. How strange, indeed,
if even in the course of our own brief existence we change our minds as
we do!
We should not be led into error by the apparent existence of valua-
tions that seem to be supported by indisputable evidence, as well as by
our own assent. They would vanish as soon as one barely squeezed them.
There is no need to choose a trivial example. Let us take the fifth of the
Ten Commandments, but with its tacit qualifications: you shall not kill, if
you are not a warrior, judge, or priest; you shall not kill, except for mem-
bers of another tribe; you shall not kill but those who profess a different
creed; you shall not kill, except in defense of your life, your honor, or your
property; you shall not openly kill, although you may exploit the life of
your neighbor; you shall not kill, as long as you have no motive for it. The
author of this commandment was never concerned with living up to it; he
must have been a very word-minded person. History is the history of
human slaughter. Thinkers have justified it; poets have glorified it.
There is no need to multiply examples; they all lead to the same
conclusion. Normative valuations may assume airs of universality, but
that claim can be, and is, converted into a lie by historical reality. Effec-
tive valuation dwells in our inner authority; there is no judge outside the
conscious will. We insist: it is impossible to point out a universal, perma-
nent, or constant valuation that is esteemed by all people in all times.
Conscience always reserves the right to choose or refuse the presumed
obligation. I like it when someone else agrees with my evaluation; but I
am not disposed to submit mine to an extraneous authority, whether that
of the overwhelming majority of men or that of the highest magistrate.
The decision is in the last resort that of the autonomous person. This is
the common root of the infinite number of concrete valuations, and also
the reason for their divergence.
Well, someone may say, these conclusions reflect historical and
empirical reality, and in this sense they are beyond attack. And yet, valu-
ations are not arbitrary: the will does not adopt them capriciously, nor can
it ignore the existence of values independent of human whim—indeed, of
human valuation. In other words, we do not create value, we are limited
to discovering it, and the concept of it is independent of the psychological
or historical process. Let us now examine this new problem.
Value, we have said, is the object of an affirmative valuation. It has to
do with real or ideal objects. No one should attribute intrinsic value to real
 Alejandro Korn 17Z

objects. Neither natural nor made objects have value if no one appreciates
them, if they are unrelated to human interest. There are no values for sci-
ence; there are only equally interesting or equally indifferent facts. When
we attribute value to a thing, it is a shaky title; it is not the same for me
as for another, nor the same today as yesterday. The Arab who was lost in
the desert found what he took to be a sack of dates in the track of a car-
avan. He looked inside, and threw it away in disgust. They’re only pearls,
he said. The conditional value of real objects depends on our estimation
of them. But let us leave the case of real objects: it is too simple.
We have examined the historical creations that pertain to the different
order of valuations. The value of these creations depends on our evalua-
tion. We can withhold it. The religious dogma, the work of art, the judi-
cial formula, the practical advice, the philosophical truth—what other
value should they have than what they receive from our assent? Has not
the protest of the martyr or of the reforming genius always come under
the scrutiny of the dominant valuation, armed perhaps with material
power? When a secular value ceases to rule, first in one conscience and
then in many, it ends by disappearing or by being replaced. Each person
can bring this about, individually, within the jurisdiction of his own con-
science, and he will do it if the dominant value strikes him as coercive.
Historical, like material values, remain subject to our personal valuation.
Let us, then, get down to a discussion of the most important concepts:
the great ideal values. Positivism manages to convert them into subjective
postulates derived from the cosmic mechanism. The current metaphysical
reaction classifies them as absolutes. In either case they are regarded as
constant and immutable values, set apart from any act of will. They would
continue to exist, whether or not any human mind conceived or esteemed
them. Their own authority is enough to establish them; they cannot be
denied: who would dare deny justice, beauty, truth?
It is commonsensical that such values do not exist. One does not find
them in spatiotemporal reality. In what superreality or in what unreal
limbo can one place them? They are the abstract name for still unrealized
ultimate aspirations, and they put us in contact with the transcendent as
we think about their fulfillment. They are pure ideas; they come to be but
are not. Word on our lips, ideal concept in consciousness, they only
become effective and efficacious when, through action, they are objec-
tivized in concrete, relative, and deficient form, destined to be a historical
episode in the evolution of human culture. These creations of will sym-
bolize its ultimate aims. We cannot conceive of purposes as part of the
mechanical process of nature as it is interpreted by science; only will pro-
claims them. Causal and teleological conceptions cannot be reconciled;
they constitute a basic antinomy that is deepened, rather than avoided, by
rational analysis. Let this be said for the naturalists.
178 Part III: Values

Those axiological theories that make use of objective, unreal, and

atemporal values represent a shamefaced metaphysics scarcely disguised
by its mask of logic. We are by no means denying metaphysical need. Man
keeps trying new roads to escape the greatest of his anxieties. Unfortu-
nately, reason is no help. We deny the possibility of a logical and rational
metaphysics and we require philosophies to set a neat boundary between
empirical reality and metaphysical poetry. The “Great Demolisher” did his
work to give the neorationalists a chance to hide amid the ruins of their
miserable shacks. Any rational metaphysics is a sin against logic. We have
no words—hardly even metaphors—to express the eternal—that is, the
ineffable. There is no scholastic technique for finding the coincidentia
oppositorum! of irreducible antinomies. That can come only from the
great creations of art and mystical vision, aesthetic and religious emotion.
The authors who are committed to discovering absolute values, valid
a priori, have already invented an ad hoc gnoseology. They will not dis-
cuss the historical and psychological consequences of valuations; they will
maintain, however, that this process arises from values and does not
create them. This assumes that our axiological knowledge transcends
empirical reality and arrives at the notion of timeless values. In effect,
they rely on a theory according to which spatiotemporal objects are only
one kind of object within a multiplicity of objective orders. The unreal as
well as the real can be an object. This is another effort to open the royal
road to metaphysical truth.
It affirms, first, the autonomy of logical values, and then the
autonomy of ethical values. They are objective and not subjective. They
are born following a psychological gestation but, once the umbilical cord
is cut, they have their own destiny. We know the offspring: the “substan-
tial forms” of scholasticism, the old “rational entities,” which prudent crit-
icism, not daring to hypostasize, deprives of “being” and reduces to vague
nonsense in a kingdom where they neither are, exist, nor act. If this
paradox does not captivate us, it is, according to Rickert, because our
mental habits are deficient.
We are dealing with wordplay, in which talented men waste their
great erudition in byzantine discourse, a marvelous mixture of logical sub-
tlety and essential intuitions (Wesenschau). They claim to have captured
the unreal object, but they have only lost contact with reality... .
But now some terrified soul will break in: “In this case we are
without fixed and binding values!” And indeed, we never had them; they
do not exist. Is not the historical change of values an obvious fact, along
with the incompatibility of contemporary values? One finds different
values at each geographical latitude, in each ethnic group, in each polit-
ical alliance, and with each social interest. Within each group, however
homogeneous it may seem, we find persons who resist the current valu-
 Alejandro Korn 179

ation. There is always some dissent on the way to triumph or failure. Is

it not amusing how the satisfied bourgeoisie try to turn their profit into a
timeless value, or how the true believer hawks the promptings of his
fanaticism like dogmas?
Philosophers are no better; indeed, they provide the most discon-
certing spectacle. It is the very nature of philosophy, they say, to aspire to
universality. Philosophical truth must be one. It is impossible to conceive
it as circumscribed by geographical limits, or determined by the historical
moment, or by the interests of a social level. Nevertheless, this is what
happens. As in so many cases, the paradox is the real. We know of a
Western philosophy and of another that is Eastern; of a Greek philosophy
and of another that is modern, of an empirical position opposed to ratio-
nalism, skepticism to dogmatism, realism to idealism. All systems are log-
ical, but their pied multiplicity simply shows how ineffective logical argu-
mentation is. Each different philosophy is the expression of a different val-
uation. Thus it has to run the same risks as all valuations. Each
philosophy is systematized as a legal brief for the will that inspires it.
Sometimes, though, in periods of decadence, the professor’s poor and
empty pedantry reveals a lack of will, a lack of vital conviction.
People should not be so afraid of subjective valuation. Humanity has
not fallen into anarchy just because valuations have always been subjec-
tive. Aristotle alerts us, with his usual sagacity, by his observation that
man is a gregarious animal. An isolated individual is a rare event; as a
member of a group, his personal impulses are toned down by the rule of
the gregarious instinct. Without feeling himself restrained, he will recite
the liturgical formula that he has been taught, he will revere the estab-
lished legal norms, he will respect the hallowed commonplaces, and will
dress according to the current fad. No one rebels against an oppression he
does not feel. Satisfied souls do not change collective values.
If rebellious evaluation appears, it will take its chances. Only a closed
mind would object to it; while if many experience the same coercion, the
rebellious judgment will be generalized. But a subjective valuation will be
extinguished without consequences if, after a short or long conflict, it
comes to have no historical dignity. Expressions of the general will, to be
effective, should at least express the will of a more or less large group.
How, then, are we to choose from among the available valuations
those that ought to prevail? The historical process does this; those that tri-
umph prevail. It is not always the most just valuation—namely, ours—that
triumphs. So, to conciliate them, we have recourse to argumentation, to
persuasion, to the coincidence of interests, or to authority—if we have it.
And yet, let us not forget that valuations represent our reaction to a phys-
ical or historical reality that is given to us, that common setting within
which the individual and the collectivity act... .
180 Part III: Values

NOTE
1. Scholastic term popularized by Nicholas of Cusa in the fifteenth
century.
The Mexican José Vasconcelos borrowed the term from Cusa and
made it the foun-
dation of his “Aesthetic Monism.”—Ep.
Alejandro Octavio Detstua
(1849-1945)

] )css: belongs to the group of thinkers Francisco Romero has

called the “founders” of Latin American philosophy. This group is
characterized by its rejection of the dogmatic positivism in which its mem-
bers were educated and by a turn toward a more spiritual perspective. The
“founders” had long careers as educators and molders of a generation of
young people dedicated to the serious study of philosophy. Detstua’s
merit rests more in his career of over fifty years as a dedicated teacher
than in the originality and depth of his thought, which found its inspira-
tion primarily in the idealism of Krause and the vitalism of Bergson.
Born in Huancayo, Peru, in 1849, Detistua received his degree in phi-
losophy at the age of twenty-three and was named assistant professor of
history in the University of San Marcos. Three years later he received a
doctorate in philosophy (1872) and a year later a degree in law and a doc-
torate in jurisprudence. In 1882 he was named associate professor of lit-
erature and aesthetics and in 1884 professor of philosophy in the same
university. In addition to his teaching responsibilities he also held high
offices within the university and in public life. Among his more important
positions were director of justice, culture, instruction, and welfare in 1895,
senator from Lima in 1901, dean of the faculty of philosophy and letters
in 1915, and president of the university from 1928 to 1930. On three occa-
sions, in 1898, 1909, and 1924, Detstua visited Europe in order to study
modern pedagogical methods to be incorporated into the Peruvian educa-
tional system. Widely respected and appreciated in his country, he died in
Lima on August 6, 1945.
Because of his interest in the education of Peruvian youth, Detstua
dedicated a significant portion of his writings to pedagogical themes. Nev-
ertheless, it was in the areas of ethics and in aesthetics that he made his

181
182 Part JII: Values

more important contributions. The strength and originality of his own

ideas are evident in his discussion of the thought of European authors,
especially in the volume on aesthetics, Estética general (1923). To a lesser
degree, one also finds elements of his personal philosophy in the last
chapters of Los sistemas de moral (1938-40) and in one of his earlier
works, Las ideas de orden y de libertad en la historia del pensamiento
humano (1917-19). In the last work he formulates the view that is devel-
oped more fully later on within the axiological context of his Estética. The
thesis is that order as well as freedom are basic ideas in social develop-
ment and although the first has dominated in the history of human
thought, the second has priority over it, since it constitutes the positive
expression of the spirit. In addition, freedom is the necessary condition of
all change of order.
In the chapter from the Estética reprinted here, Detistua develops the
position that aesthetic value is the source of all value. This “value of all
values” as he calls it is the product of free activity whose essential func-
tion consists in the creation and the contemplation of the ideal aside from
any practical intent. In contrast to the essentially instrumental character
of other values, aesthetic value constitutes its own end, generating a com-
pletely disinterested activity, the creation of beauty.

Free activity never gives up its essential and supreme function: the cre-
ation and contemplation of the ideal with no practical intent whatever.
This is pure aesthetic function, the production of beautiful art in which
the spirit aspires to achieve its creative ambition which is capable of pro-
ducing something that the coercion of the environment makes impos-
sible. This function constitutes, therefore, the fount from which other
values derive their aspirations.
General Aesthetics

BEST HETIC EXPERIENCE

E ven if we grant that all creation has aesthetic value, this still does not
settle the question of the nature of beauty: the creative imagination
takes different forms, aside from those classified as beautiful or ugly; they
make up orders of phenomena distinguished by their subjective and objec-
tive natures; and they aspire to be treated with the same respect as other
human values. In fact, all the normative sciences have an independent
end, which seeks to become a value created by imaginative intuition.
Logic, economics, ethics, law, and religion strive to achieve the values or
ideals of truth, utility, goodness, justice, and holiness. Imagination is
active in each of those disciplines. It performs an aestheticic function, which
is nevertheless different from the creation of the beautiful, since this last
has to do exclusively with what would, strictly speaking, be called the aes-
thetic emotion. The phenomenon of the beautiful, fully understood to
include the ugly as well as the beautiful, both in nature and in art, is based
on free activity, whether or not the activity is conscious. And yet we find
that same kind of activity in logical, economic, moral, legal, and religious
creations. Like artistic creations, they take on both psychic and social
aspects; they tend also to set norms for thinking and willing, criteria for
distinguishing and judging, and motives for conscious actions.
It is often discussed whether truth and utility are final values, true
values like the others mentioned, or whether they are merely means to
attain human ends considered as supreme. We have to exclude them if we
look only at the question of the end; and we must also exclude them if we
From Alejandro Octavio Detistua, Estética general (Lima: Eduardo Ravago, 1923), pt. 2, chap.
2, pp. 424-40,
183
 184 Part III: Values

consider them in relation to the feeling of liberty, whether pleasant or

painful, which is a necessary element in value.
Logic, like economics, proceeds with the rigorous determinism of sci-
ence, without feeling or freedom. We can think of the demonstration of
truth and the calculation of interest as purely intellectual functions, as
means to final values although distinct from them. But this is pure
abstraction and it neglects the intuitions of imagination in the discovery
of new truths that, here, have the character of true values, even when they
do not have all their traits. As instrumental values they differ radically
from other values, and especially from aesthetic value, which can be clas-
sified as the value of values.
The dichotomy set by contemporary philosophy between science and
art—which is different from Aristotle’s distinction between theory and
practice or thought and action—is a distinction between two activities: the
ordering activity and the free activity; and this marks the difference
between truth, as instrumental value, and beauty, as final value. Orderly,
logical activity, which eliminates freedom for the sake of science, is aux-
iliary to the free activity that shapes the work of art, or that results from
its aesthetic contemplation. Unlike truth, the beautiful cannot be demon-
strated. One understands its nature by intuiting or feeling it, because the
inspiration that engenders it or results from it escapes the exclusively log-
ical process of deduction. Neither the concrete origin of the work of art,
nor the aesthetic state, suffused by freedom and feeling, can be explained
logically.
Intelligence can indeed collaborate in both: it can prepare the ele-
ments of inspiration, and it can support the efforts involved in making
them objective; but it can in no way substitute the imaginative and free
function of the beautiful creation. To suppose otherwise is to include
norms antagonistic to freedom within aesthetic activity; it is to disregard
the nature of imagination; it is to assume arbitrarily that there are innate
types of beauty that function like axioms in logic; or to attribute to the
action of physical and social media a dominating power that psychology
disproves by the infinite variety of artistic works and, also, by the infinite
possibilities of aesthetic emotion. The great error of intellectualism has
been to assign thought a contemplative, primordial, and theoretical func-
tion, like the aesthetic, while subordinating art to it by placing art in the
realm of practical activity. But contemporary voluntarism has reduced
thought to its proper role in the psychic synthesis: to be an instrument
auxiliary to freedom in its effort to become effective. Such are the real rela-
tions between the true and the beautiful, between logical and aesthetic
phenomena, between pure art and pure science.
These relations are analogous to those between economic and aes-
thetic phenomena, and between the useful and the beautiful. So it is seen
 Alejandro Octavio Detistua 185

by those who have rejected the hedonistic or eudaemonistic theory of the

beautiful, according to which aesthetic value is based on human happi-
ness which, in turn, is based on pleasure. The aesthetic phenomenon is
essentially disinterested. It pursues no end exterior to itself, whether eco-
nomic, moral, or religious; its end is within itself; this is its essential char-
acteristic, on which both its disinterest and its freedom are based. Thus it
is, as Kant says, a “purposiveness, without purpose.” The economic phe-
nomenon is subject to the imperative of desire, which destroys its
autonomy completely; the useful depends exclusively on desire. Even
when desire is present in the development of aesthetic emotion, it is not
there as a necessary element. Aesthetic emotion can and should exist
apart from the desire to appropriate the contemplated work, the benefits
that its author hopes to receive, or even those ends of artistic utility that
are part of the work. Once desire is eliminated, the beautiful does not dis-
appear, although the aesthetic emotion may lose or gain intensity. The
so-called aesthetic congruity is an associated, but not necessary element.
The freedom with which the artist produces his work can be limited by
the need for congruity or fitness. Aesthetic feeling can be integrated with
it without being dependent on it. On the other hand, if freedom is sup-
pressed, the beautiful disappears, although the economic phenomenon
persists.
Although the aesthetic phenomenon is radically different from logic
d economics, it is analogous to the moral phenomenon. Freedom_is
essentialin both. The moral ideal may indeed be regarded as an aesthetic
creation, and, in the same sense, the actions to attain that ideal may be
regarded as aesthetic. An action of great moral value becomes beautiful;
beauty and goodness interpenetrate to such an extent that any effort to
separate them would drastically change the nature of the action. For all
their similarities, they are different, because freedom plays a different role
in each. Moral phenomena involve the coercion of duty, imposed by a
norm that moral consciousness finds superior to its will. There is no
avoiding this imperative quality of law, whatever character we may
attribute to it and whatever influence it may exercise over freedom.
Whether categorical, hypothetical, or persuasive, it remains an imperative
that imposes a duty, to which moral consciousness feels the need to
submit, even when it rebels. The moral norm, like the logical norm, is an
inescapable condition, which spirit ought to follow. Without fulfilling the
first, the goodness of an action disappears; without obedience to the
second, there is no truth in thinking. None of this applies to the aesthetic
phenomenon, in which freedom is all and any norm is subordinate to it.
Properly speaking, there are no norms in the aesthetic order, since the
feeling of liberty can create or feel beauty within a unique and original
psychic state. Originality is precisely the basic characteristic of the great
186 Part III: Values

work of art. A genius can alter or destroy existing norms, creating new
ones, as he offers new models of artistic production. If he does not always
do so, if he uses canons established by technical tradition, he does so
freely because he considers them useful to the production and for the
intelligibility of his work. Furthermore, since those canons are the results
of the free activity of spirit, they can oppose it only when they come to set
narrow limits to its expansion, by crystallizing forms that do not respond
to freedom’s greater ambitions. Unlike morality, aesthetic judgment is not
content to establish absolute and eternal dogmas; nor does it feel the need
to preserve them; nor is it troubled by substituting some ideals for others
even when they are opposed. It is, on the contrary, eager for diversity as
an essential condition for what it is and does. When the ideal, in the
process of unification, takes the abstract form of universality—which is
what ethical judgment constantly aspires to—aesthetic judgment rejects
unity as anti-aesthetic.
Aesthetic emotions are closely related to moral emotions, but they
spring from different causes in their contemplation of beautiful actions.
Aesthetic consciousness enjoys what it has of free action, pre
consciousness enjoys what is ‘appropriate\to the norm. The moral act is
based essentially on the power to inhibit consciousness, and even in
regard to positive acts it supposes the absolute inhibition of opposing acts.
Not so with the aesthetic act, which is essentially expansive. Aesthetic
enjoyment is based on intuition of the ideal; moral appreciation, on the
comparison of the deed with the precept, in such a way that reflection sur-
passes intuition to the extent of rendering it useless. Thus moral beauty
has intuition and reflection at the same time; one feels its beauty and its
morality can be demonstrated as a logical consequence of the universal
and abstract precept.
Such demonstration presupposes an invariable principle, a dogma, an
imperative norm that is superior to the will. But as I have said, there is no
such norm in aesthetic activity, however much the aesthetic sociology of
Lalo may want to claim it for technique. Whatever influence one may
attribute to traditional rules, they cannot go beyond the freedom of spirit
that creates the artistic work, nor can they condemn passive aesthetic
feeling to a particular form of pleasure, nor can they explain its existence
and evolution without reference to freedom, which is its source.
On the other hand, the idea of(order)performs a different role in each
area. In morals it is the transcendent end of freedom, which ought to
submit to it. The norm here creates an order in its own likeness. Such
order is imperative, necessary, absolute, eternal. It is the very perfection
of human life, which the individual does not create, although he freely
accepts it as an ideal; it constitutes, even in the hedonistic concept of the
moral law, an external and superior end for the will. Freedom does not
 Alejandro Octavio Detistua 187

create that order, because if it did the norm would no longer be external
and superior; it would no longer impose a system of duties on conduct.
The morality of the act is, at bottom, just such a submission to the norm.
Freedom is connected with it at all only as the postulate for the sanction
of the act, and because, in a spiritualist conception of man, only free
actions are human, whether freedom be understood in an intellectualist or
voluntarist sense. With the aesthetic phenomenon everything is the other
way around: freedom creates its own order; it is an end in itself; it has no
transcendent goal. The aesthetic order is that which best satisfies the
expansion of spirit, and which best eliminates the coercion that is
opposed to its nature. The whole aspiration of the aesthetic will is to
achieve that order and ideal. The moral order and the aesthetic order thus
have very different characteristics. The moral order, at its best, is a system
of relations, of concepts, established by a normative law, even when it
may originally have been an order of images. The second has been and
always is a system of images. Systematization in the first is a logical
process, which pursues the unity of the ideal and of the norm external to
the individual, as in science. In the second, systematization is an intuitive
process that finds unity and variety simultaneously in the individual’s
imaginative activity. In the first, one seeks universality in the extension of
the norm, while in the second one finds it in the extension of aesthetic
activity and in the depth of its intuition. The moral order presupposes the
existence of an ideal of perfection, which it dogmatizes and imposes on
the will in its relation with other wills; the aesthetic order is the ideal that
is created by the spirit in the exercise of its freedom. Without that creation
there would be no other than the biological imperatives; the moral imper-
ative could not be explained. The moral order is thus based on the aes-
thetic order, because only the latter is a creation.
4 The religious phenomenon is even more closely analogous to the aes-
thetic phenomenon. They were born together in the creation of myth, as
Wundt says, and they have never been completely separated. The religious
phenomenon has always sought its most effective and complete expres-
sion in aesthetic form. But their difference is clear, when we consider the
role that freedom plays in each. Thereligious state is one of liberation or
emancipation from the world, but of absolute submission to divinity. The
aesthetic state is absolute freedom. In the religious phenomenon, the
norm, dictated by the divine will and known by revelation, is all. In the
aesthetic phenomenon, whether in the work of art or in aesthetic enjoy-
ment, inspiration is not subject to any norm. The work of art does not
suffer its imposition, and aesthetic enjoyment does not adjust to it. The
feeling of liberation is profound in both, but their causes and tendencies
differ radically. They coexist in the original myth, but myth is above all
the work of the creative imagination and is therefore an aesthetic phe-
188 Part III: Values

nomenon par excellence. Revelation is either aesthetic inspiration or an

inexplicable mystery. Without that inspiration myth would never have
existed. Within the limits of philosophical investigation, we must presup-
pose the primacy of aesthetic activity in religion as in the moral order.
But the differences we have noted between aesthetic value and other
values do not permit us to deduce that the aesthetic phenomenon exists
in a pure state, isolated from other social events, with which it is obvi-
ously closely related.
Such parity would be another mere abstraction. In living reality, to the
contrary, the different phenomena are so closely associated that the effort
to analyze them gives rise to different theories of the beautiful—and of art,
which is its most perfect expression.
The assumption that there is a directing\dea— which guides spirit in
the slow process of artistic execution, or which permits aesthetic contem-
plation to discriminate beauty already achieved, whether to enjoy it or to
criticize it—has given logical value a great importance in aesthetic evalu-
ation, to the point that the very nature of the beautiful and the basis of
our judgment of it depend on the realization of the Idea. To know that idea
and to realize it, or to appreciate it after realizing it, has been the funda-
mental problem for those who have confused the aesthetic phenomenon
of the beautiful with the logical phenomenon of the true. They have attrib-
uted to reason what properly belongs to imagination and have erroneously
supposed that the aesthetic function is reflective rather than intuitive, that
reason has a dynamogenic power that it lacks, and that the aesthetic
problem is solved by knowing the beautiful, rather than by feeling it and
producing it freely.
The influence of intellectualism in the development of aesthetic ideas
has led to the dispute between idealists, who emphasize content, and real-
ists, who emphasize form in\theaesthetic}phenomenon. Idealists are dom-
inated by panlogism, which hinges its doctrine on the idea of order, in
spite of their sympathies for the principle of liberty. The realists are sub-
ject to the powerful influence of artistic technique, which looks for the
laws of its execution in scientific methods. Since both groups are more
logicians than aestheticians, they have looked at the problem of the ‘beau-
tiful, in terms of truth, as a theory of knowledge, as a logical explanation
of harmony, taking it to be the essential characteristic of the beautiful and
therefore subject to the methods of discursive knowledge.
This mistaken point of view derives from the systematic orientation of
all philosophy toward the central idea of order, which is essentially a
matter of logic, and from the reduction of all knowledge to that exclusive
form and of all logic to the logic of thought. It ignores the intuitive activity
of imagination, although it is intuition that penetrates into reality with all
the energies of spirit, discovering what there is of the essential that exists
 Alejandro Octavio Detistua 189

through the forms accessible to sensory experience and in the very depth
of the ideas elaborated by thought. The “divining sympathy” that Bergson
speaks of, which explains aesthetic inspiration, is not an idea in the Pla-
tonic or Aristotelian sense, nor is it the fruit of a fragmentary conscious-
ness that mutilates or eliminates reality; it comes from the whole con-
sciousness, freely projecting itself toward an ideal that it has formed and
tries to fulfill, or toward an ideal already gained that satisfies the drive for
creative expansion. We cannot do without logic in this activity; it has a
necessary role, but as a means, not as an end. Instead of imposing unity
and direction on aesthetic life, logic is subordinated to the élan of spirit,
which pursues a freer reality in a world forged by imagination, as a result
of which it can guide the intellectual efforts that are directed toward prac-
tical matters. It is at this point that the directing idea, already an aesthetic
creation, gives importance to logic—to conscious reflection—as it
develops effective means to the established practical end.
Economics, too, in spite of its external goal, has an auxiliary role in
aesthetic activity. Aesthetic activity does not altogether exclude the idea of
utility, derived from the feeling of sensory pleasure, which is the basis of
economics. Utility does not, to be sure, enter into aesthetic activity with
the overwhelming force of human egoism, which destroys all solidarity in
the name of a false liberty. This liberty is false because, concentrating
entirely on effects, it ignores the slavery of the passion that causes it. To
be sure, the economic phenomenon can be openly opposed to the aes-
thetic phenomenon. A disinterested activity having an end in itself is not
conceived in a state of consciousness reduced to egoism, following a uni-
lateral direction, and excluding any affective element that might sidetrack
it or attenuate its destructive force. But of course, such a purely economic
state would be abnormal, just as pure avarice would be; it would have no
value, except as a pure abstraction; it loses its extreme character in normal
experience. The useful and the disinterested are combined in ways that
demonstrate possible harmony between the aesthetic and the extra-aes-
thetic. Useful coordination can favor aesthetic value by placing or dis-
posing of beautiful objects effectively—as, for example, when different
artistic objects come together in architecture, in drama, and in beautiful
objects in nature. Even a simple, useful coordination of coexistence or suc-
cession can produce aesthetic emotion, if it can also present to the spirit
the appearance or symbol of freedom. The useful, then, offers the illusion
of a free life. It no longer seems to be an external goal to the person who
contemplates it. It has the appearance of fertile spontaneity, from which it
borrows an illusory aesthetic value—as illusory as the spontaneity on
which it is founded. Guyau, unlike Spencer, finds an aesthetic element in
the useful. Instead of destroying the disinterested character of the beau-
tiful by assimilating the aesthetic phenomenon to the economic, it
 190 Part III: Values

deprives utility of its special character in order to relate it to aesthetic

form. Guyau thus confirms the belief that the useful and the beautiful can
help each other without losing their own natures: thus utility conserves its
practical end, while the beautiful preserves its intrinsic liberty from any
“Objective end. Architecture and oratory give proof of how beauty and
utility compenetrate, so that utility attains beauty, while beauty makes
utility more efficacious.
The cooperation of moral experience is still closer. And it is necessary
when the aesthetic object is a human action, whether it is now being car-
ried out, or has been, or will be; or whether the imagination invents it,
reproduces it, or intrudes only to make the action plausible. In each case
the beautiful is inseparable from the good; they tend to fuse, so that aes-
thetic judgment becomes moral; there is a tendency to alter the nature of
art, imposing a pedagogical end on it as an essential ingredient. The the-
ories of didactic art and of art for art’s sake, which are equally exclusivist
and inexact, arise from that confusion. As they do so, they affirm these
two theses, respectively: the powerful influence of moral value in the
appreciation of aesthetic value, and the autonomy of art. Yet, far from
being mutually exclusive, the theses complement each other, theoretically
*"\fand practically: the moral phenomenon, for all its concern with order, sup-
ports aesthetic freedom; and aesthetic activity, for all its freedom, favors
moral order. The full integrity and depth of the ideal feeling of both fac-
tors come together. Even when the feeling of moral value is extra-aesthetic
and merely associated with what is aesthetic, it participates so much in
the phenomenon of the beautiful that, without it, beauty would lose
objectivity, leaving only aesthetic representations that are very different
from those expressed by conscious acts of will. All poetry, especially dra-
matic poetry, would become merely sculpturesque, picturesque, and
musical if moral value were excluded from aesthetic content. Even outside
of art, human action would be beautiful only because of its practical form.
In the other arts, with the exception of architecture, the exclusion of moral
value would alter the nature of that beautiful action as long as the feelings
that arouse expressions of the human spirit do not always enter the
domain of moral value. This explains why immoral symbolism hurts the
efficacy of aesthetic emotion, working against it and weakening it, and
why the opposite happens when the symbol is not contrary to the moral
beliefs of the aesthetic spectator, but is changed into a symbol of those
same beliefs. And yet that fusion does not prevent one from feeling the
hegemony of beauty, even finding and feeling it in the symbol as it
expresses a powerful freedom that resolutely opposes morality and per-
ishes in the struggle or remains in opposition as the aesthetic principle of
freedom.
Religious values |aree related to aesthetic values: in BN content
 Alejandro Octavio Deiistua 191

for the feeling produced by the work of art. The highest aesthetic forms of
art have sought to express the principle of divinity. The temple, the statue
of the god, the religious painting, the mystic depth of music and lyric
poetry—all of these, revealing what is divine in the human soul, have
more or less directly and intensely expressed a religious content. The
feeling of emancipation, which characterizes both aesthetic and religious
values, relates them in the artistic expansions of spirit. On the other hand,
religious feeling could not emerge from human consciousness if it did not
clothe itself in forms produced by the imagination, and it would not purify
itself if those forms were not idealized by art. Pure thought could never
have understood the divine principle. Logic could never be a substitute for
inspiration in creating religious ideas and feelings. God becomes man is
the most perfect aesthetic symbol of the religious idea.
But just as we can analytically distinguish aesthetic from moral value
in experience, so can we also distinguish it from religious value. Symbols
opposed to art have had and still have a great religious value for mystical
contemplation, while art may express the divine principle in aesthetic
forms that leave religious sentiment inactive. The only aesthetic forms
that are generally influential amid the many types of worship are those
that are in harmony with the beliefs that people actually hold. It is only
aesthetically that they can be admired by those who hold different reli-
gious beliefs. On the contrary, among people of the same religion, the reli-
gious symbol, united to religious form, can be adored as a symbol of
divinity, even though it is not understood, or even judged, as an expres-
sion of the beautiful. Aesthetic form can even be condemned if it is
opposed to religious belief—and in this respect, too, the situation is com-
parable to that between aesthetic and moral value.
In reality, then, the aesthetic phenomenon is not isolated, but is com-
bined with other phenomena that are derived from the same creative
activity and concur in attaining the aesthetic ideal of freedom. It is the
nature of spirit to act and to be limitlessly fertile. But if free activity is so
conceived as, logically, to eliminate all resistance, we would find that we
could not create, or even subsist, without that coercive reality that helps
produce consciousness of the self in our psychological development. It has
been said that birds would believe that they might fly more freely if there
were no atmospheric resistance, because they do not know that they could
not fly without that resistance. The same is true of the flight of spirit. If
there were no external coercion to provide resistance that one must take
account of and control for the sake of greater freedom, a wider and more
effective creation, psychic potentiality would be exhausted in an instant;
it would stop being activity and would become merely inertia; it would
not be spirit but matter—as Bergson holds.
Free activity fights the obstacles set by its surroundings. It can con-
192 Part. III: Values

quer the opposition of external nature by using intelligence to obtain the

material means necessary to its ideal. Thus is born the close partnership
of logic and economics. This is also why science was born: to destroy our
slavery to physical reality and to enhance the production of riches. But it
is all too easy for this utilitarian ideal at last to absorb inner freedom, so
as to make egoism the exclusive criterion of happiness.
Free activity has another battle: it triumphs over the social medium
pervaded by egoism by means of the moral solidarity that abandons the
biological process of conquest. In doing so, it finds in the free association
of free beings a network of unlimited flexibility, which organizes the func-
tion of will, together with the pure expansiveness of freedom. The ideal of
expansion without norm, which is the essence of the creative imagination,
becomes the ideal of joint activity; it creates morality in human coexis-
tence, in the service of interior freedom; and legal and political values,
which are values of the same sort, grow out of morality.
Free activity finally makes the aesthetic ideal, which is beyond human
morality, incarnate in a divine personality. It erases the limits of all human
work and raises creation to an infinite and absolutely free power, located
in the region of the mysterious and inexplicable, wherein it generates reli-
gion, which feeds on supernatural inspiration.
Notwithstanding these expressions,|free activity never renounces its
essential and supreme function, the creation of the ideal and its contem-
plation without practical purpose, its pure aesthetic function, the produc-
tion of beautiful art, in which spirit aspires to attain that creative ambition
capable of producing what cannot be done by coercing the medium. This
function is the spring from which the other values drink their inspirations\
There is therefore no exaggeration in calling this disinterested activity the
“value of all values.”
Carlos Vaz Ferreira
(1872-1958)

\ az Ferreira is the teacher par excellence in twentieth-century Latin

American philosophy. The biographical note that introduces the
publication of his complete works reads, “The professor prevailed over all
other forms of expression of his creative spirit,” and we might add, even
at the expense of the originality and philosophical depth of his thought.
He possessed a spirit that was eminently antisystematic, preventing him
from accepting any school of thought and leading him to fight against all
philosophical dogmatism, beginning with the positivist perspective in
which he was educated. As a result of this iconoclastic attitude and the
germinal character of his thought, his views are best expressed in short
essays and in aphoristic notes based on concrete experience. Theoretical
analyses are not suitable to his approach.
Vaz Ferreira was born in Montevideo, Uruguay, in 1872. He enrolled
at the School of Law in the University of the Republic and graduated as a
lawyer in 1903. He began teaching in 1897 when he obtained a position
teaching philosophy in the University of the Republic. Due to his success
as a professor and to the unprecedented reputation he acquired, a special
position was created for him, “Maestro de Conferencias,” which permitted
him to express his ideas with complete freedom (1913-57). From 1924
until 1929 he also assumed a professorship in the philosophy of law. In
addition to his teaching responsibilities he held important positions as
dean of preparatory schools (1904-1906), president of the university on
three occasions (1929-30, 1925-38, 1938-43), director of the College of
Humanities and Sciences (1946-49), and later (1952) dean of that college
until his death. Shortly before his death on January 3, 1958, the House of
Representatives of Uruguay authorized a complete edition of his works in
special honor of his life’s work.

heBe
194 Part III: Values

Vaz Ferreira’s extensive publications reflect ethical, social, and educa-

tional concerns grounded in a pervasive humanism. Beginning with his
first works, Conocimiento y accidn (1907) and Légica viva (1910), and con-
tinuing through his more mature works, such as La actual crisis del
mundo desde el punto de vista racional (1940) and Racionalidad y genia-
lidad (1947), Vaz Ferreira consistently attacks the narrow, purely rational
concept of knowledge that excludes the dynamic vitality of reality. This
“philosophy of experience,” as described by Ardao, is based on the
analysis of the concrete human situation, and finds its most adequate
expression in Fermentario (1938). This work is a collection of aphorisms
and short philosophical essays touching on a variety of human themes
that were of concern to Vaz Ferreira from his youth. One finds topics such
as “Men of Thought and Men of Action,” “Reason and Experience,” “To
Search for the Truth,” “Concerning Systems,” and many others. As might
be expected, this is the final statement of his moral perspective that,
according to him, stems from the conflict of ideals, an irreconcilable con-
flict that leads to an uneasiness in man but does not condemn him to
philosophical pessimism. On the contrary, the awareness of this conflict
opens the way to an axiological optimism.
Fermentary

WHAT IS THE MORAL SIGN OF HUMAN ANXIETY?

here are two meanings to “optimism” and “pessimism”: optimism

(or pessimism) of success, and optimism (or pessimism) of value.
The optimism or pessimism of success and the optimism or pes-
simism of value: better than a definition is an example. In evaluating an
adventure of Don Quixote, we could be, and in many instances reasonably
will be, pessimists of success, but optimists (in the other sense) with
respect to moral value, with respect to the sign “good” or “bad.” And we
would declare that adventure generous or noble, we will judge that it is
good. This optimism concerning the moral sign is the optimism of value.
The optimism or pessimism of value is intertwined with the moral
sign: good or bad.
To continue: as to a certain great adventure, begun and carried on,
with all its efforts and aspirations, by a certain species on a given planet,
the optimism of success could be risky and one might even say illusory.
(We shall see, in addition, that this is an unfortunate way of stating the
problem, for insofar as partial success is concerned, optimism is adequate.
And to be truthful, a reasonable discussion would focus on the particular
cases and the degree.) However, the optimism that seems to me should be
upheld against the superficiality of some of the theories and states of spirit
predominant today is the optimism of value, even though these theories
and states of spirit have held fast in times of pain and hopelessness. I say
this because perhaps they have engendered and reinforced the pain and
lack of hope.
From Carlos Vaz Ferreira, Fermentario, in OBRAS (Montevideo: Homenaje Camara de Repre-
sentantes, 1957), 10:196-207, 41-44.

MeJr)
196 Part III: Values

By way of preparation I need to summarize something that I have

attempted to demonstrate for many years and in a long series of lectures:
Generally it is thought and said that intellectual progress has not accompa-
nied or is not correlated with moral progress. The claim is even made that
there is no such thing as moral progress and again, some say this is an age
of decadence. I have tried to maintain that this is not the case.
Let us begin by setting aside the issue of whether progress is or is not
necessary. In fact, with respect to progress, one can question whether
intellectual progress occurs. Moral progress, however, cannot be ques-
tioned.
Intellectual progress can be debated. It has been said, and perhaps
correctly, with respect to progress, that what differentiates man’s present
from his beginning is the mere accumulation of intellectual acquisitions,
for it has not been established that the discoverer of the theory of gravity
was more of a genius than the one who invented the wheel or fire . . . per-
haps, but that other progress, moral progress, cannot be questioned... .
Now the primary question is why does the contrary seem to be the
case? Why does it appear that there is moral degeneration in human his-
tory? For reasons that only go on to create more illusions.
Some of these illusions are historical. For example, history isolates
events and schematizes them. I was going to say that it turns these events
into heroic acts and makes men heroic, but that is not the truth either
since real heroism is something more than this fictitious heroism. Real
heroism, the valuable heroism always comes with pain, it conquers cow-
ardliness, and is accompanied by hesitation and moral doubt. History
makes these acts appear more sensational and it gives men this same
appearance. Then on top of it comes the educational process that goes to
work on all of this. . . . Hence the first illusion of ancient supermorality.
The effect is such that even in the multiple cases in which History itself
reveals the inferiority of men, the historico-pedagogical cliches continue
to act. The typical case, for example, is that of Cato, whose name is cited
in multiple examples, and in great numbers of speeches even when his-
tory teaches us that he was cruel and avaricious, that he mistreated his
slaves, and that he changed wives in order to obtain the wealth of the
dowries....
Furthermore, the men who carried out these acts were specialists, if
we may use the expression. For example, there were specialists in patrio-
tism who were capable of nothing else and even the specialists in saintli-
ness or love may have lacked the relevant feeling for their country, family,
WOrk.-
However, none of this is essential, because there is something much
more important for which I ask special attention. This, indeed, is essen-
tial: in the human adventure, ideals are continually added.
 Carlos Vaz Ferreira 197

You have heard speak of the problem of the three bodies. Celestial
mechanics calculates with ease the reciprocal attraction of two bodies, but
when a third is introduced, the problem becomes so complicated that it is
very difficult to solve satisfactorily. Nevertheless what has been intro-
duced is only one body. If many more others were added the solution to
the problem could not even be attempted.
This, then, is what had to happen and what has happened in morals.
It is difficult to recognize what the addition of a single ideal could have
meant, of what it had to mean in human moral evolution. We speak of
adding, not substituting.
Let us look at the societies of Greece and Rome that were based on
slavery, an institution natural for them and to which, to tell the truth, all
other institutions were bound. Now let us consider the effects of the sup-
pression of this institution alone, namely, the addition of only one idea,
that of freedom for all men.
However, in resolving this situation, humanity, as if it were one, was not
satisfied. It wanted a hundred, a thousand, indeed everything. Not only was
slavery suppressed but humanity was not even satisfied that there should
be less fortunate classes. It wanted to equalize and lift up all men... .
Given this perspective two conclusions are to be drawn:
The first is the conflict of ideals. These ideals can be reconciled only
in part, in part they conflict. As to affections and feelings, the ideals of
personal life, of the family, and of humanity are in part harmonious but
in part conflicting, in part they have to be sacrificed to one another. Sci-
entific ideals and artistic ideals conflict in part with one another. The
ideals of work and those of the benefits of work, the ideals of material
well-being and the ideals of spiritual perfection conflict with each other in
part and in part are reconcilable. The ideals of reason and those of feeling,
the good of the majority as an ideal and the conservation and preserva-
tion of superior beings. . . . In part, these ideals struggle with one another
and are not reconciled.
There are ideals of love, but also ideals of justice. We have ideals of a
positive, earthly life, but also those of a transcendent afterlife.
Furthermore, correlative with those conflicts of ideals there is another
fact upon which we do not insist sufficiently nor reflect adequately and
which is not discussed in treatises and books on morals, namely, that hu-
manity has thus been creating a type of conflictual morality. This is to say,
that few moral problems can be resolved in a completely satisfactory
manner and if one senses all the ideals, generally one will have to sacri-
fice some in part, or perhaps even all of them.
On this issue I have been accustomed to refer in a special sense to pos-
sible “obscure Christs.” One could conceive of a man that had as much
love as the saints of old, as much patriotism as ancient heroes, as much
198 Part III: Values

love for science as the martyrs had for truth, indeed, had all the feelings in
their historic maximum and, in addition, the nonhistorical feelings in their
maximum also, that is, the feelings for family, friendship, and all the rest.
Only with great difficulty could such an attitude be of importance to his-
tory. After all, what goes into history is what certain great men did. It does
not record what others, perhaps even greater, were inhibited from doing.
And above all the conflicting dimensions do not go into history or, if they
do, they go in as “contradictory” or as a “weakness.” Humanity, however,
will nevertheless receive the warmth of these obscure Christs... .
In fact, no one will be this perfect, but what is coming to be a spe-
cialty in modern life is the increase in the number of men who, although
they do not have every feeling to the highest degree, have them all. This is
not sensationalism, for there it is—if you please, in this our mediocrity—
there is our moral superiority as well as the cause of the illusion of our
inferiority. This is essential, my friends: what was added was not evil, but
the increasing resistance, although yet small and poor, still a growing resis-
tance to evil. This is essential with respect to moral progress. What has
been added, for example, is not war but an increased suffering because
there is war and because one has to make war, there is more psycholog-
ical resistance to it. What has been added is not that the less-favored
classes should suffer, but the increasing suffering of humanity because of
their suffering with the consequent reforms at least partially effective,
leading to their betterment or relief.
When one takes this point of view, and these are only two examples
to which many others could be added, one perceives the moral betterment
of mankind down through history.
This remembering of ideas that I have defended so stoutly suggests an
attitude of spirit I have always wanted to suggest as the most truthful and
the most just and, it is, indeed, an optimistic attitude. But let us take a
look at its two meanings.
The optimism of success can only be relative. Human pretension
taken as a whole exceeds by far what is possible, namely, to reconcile all
ideals yet let each develop to its fullness. .. . Adding more and more ideals
before satisfying those at hand cannot be resolved even in the imagina-
tion... . But there is always some optimism for obtaining something and
then a bit more, in each case and in each of the different directions.
The above can be stated objectively. However, with respect to value,
the moral sign of our human adventure, there is no need for restrictions.
Yet, to be fair in our discussion, there is one possible restriction. If
there is a transcendent power that works in support of what is good, as is
proposed by some religious and metaphysical hypotheses, then all evil is
conquered. However, I set aside and in reasoning with me I ask that you
also set aside these possibilities that are part of one’s personal beliefs.
 Carlos Vaz Ferreira 199

So, on such an adventure, the rash and absurd and touching human
adventure that is all these adventures taken together though individually
each is no longer possible. . . perhaps I might repeat and say, in this rash
and absurd and touching human adventure which is all the adventures
taken together though individually each is no longer possible, deflection
would only be natural: it would be “human,” if it were not precisely the
human that is so heroic!
Here we need to point to a possible error. Someone may have in mind
the horrors of today, the horror of war and the terrible character that war
has taken on. However, that there has been a change for war is merely the
means, the technique, but this change is not of a moral nature, for had the
ancients had access to this technique they would have exterminated each
other more ferociously than we, for they did it right well with the ele-
mental “putting to the sword.” ...No, the technique is not what is
added, it is not the new. The added is the increase of our horror of war;
that there should be more moral resistance, more repugnance, so much
feeling, so much effort. It may be little as yet, weak and overcome thus
far, but it is growing and it is more intense and present in more people.
The same thing happens in other orders of events: the technology of
modern economy may have provoked new sufferings for the worker but
what is morally added is the suffering, the sympathy, and the growing
effort to alleviate or suppress these evils. And this is what determines the
moral direction of progress... .
So let me repeat more clearly and simply, without any complicating
hypothesis or interpretation. The direction of moral progress is seen in the
course of human history.
What is surprising is that man’s adventure becomes increasingly
impossible, but to his own honor. Don Quixote had only one adventure at
a time, but for us all occur at the same time and they are ever more
far-reaching. With each new dimension new ideals are added and in every
case we want to fulfill each ideal more completely.
We have referred to those ideals added as we left the ancient world,
when slavery was suppressed. But humanity was not satisfied, since it
wanted the well-being of all classes and of all men. This humanitarian ten-
dency and the concern for poverty has become increasingly intensified.
In other ages patriotism was a narrow sentiment. Now humanity, its
better part at least, increasingly wants to reconcile patriotism with
humanitarianism.
Furthermore, one must incorporate happiness and progress into the
ideal, although they are in part contradictory, since progress brings with
it an element of suffering. One must also incorporate happiness and cul-
ture that are also in part contradictory. One must include religious feeling
and practice, consolation and hope, but reason as well. The afterlife with
200 Part II: Values

all its possibilities and its hopes along with life on this our earth must be
woven in, along with feeling and logic, art and science. And one might
say, in passing, that it is easy to rail against science and reason and logic,
but even those who do, know that science, reason, and logic continue to
work through them and for them.
Another enormous conflict and one of the most tragic is the ideal of
goodness, yet one must struggle against evil.
“Reconciliation” in the common sense, “reconciliation” in the sense
of satisfying all ideals is impossible. These ideals struggle against each
other in part but we want to satisfy them all.
Another conflict: the health of the human race and compassion for the
sick person. They are in part contradictory.
And yet, another conflict: intellectual and moral perfection, along
with preservation of those that are inferior. To develop the elite, even to
the level of a “superman,” but also to raise the general level.
And all this together! Each one of these ideals is impossible, but even
more impossible when all are taken together and more yet because of their
interference with each other since in part they are contradictory!
From this perspective then comes the optimism of value.
There are many sincere human beings, whether among them fanatics
for an ideal such as nationalists or humanitarians, sages or saints, prac-
tical men or mystics, yet all of them are “specialists.”
Above all, however, what grandeur for him who feels all these ideals,
which in part contradict each other, and gives himself to all, or to many,
without being able to satisfy any one of them completely and even less his
own conscience!
To summarize then, there are two ways of approaching history and
the human adventure:
One can emphasize the evil or sad aspect, the impossibility of real-
izing everything, the impotence, the proportion of evil, and those that fall
by the wayside.
Or one can measure the grandeur of the adventure and of the effort
precisely because of the inferiority of the point of departure and because
of the noble exaggeration of the whole group of ideals that we pursue.
I am not going to add more examples. I do not even have time to
develop those that I have chosen. This is no more than a direction of ideas
and feelings that I commend to you in every case as a spiritual exercise.
And now do these ideas and feelings bring some consolation?
Perhaps none but perhaps it is not a good thing that humanity con-
sole itself. But even though they may bring none, they should teach us and
in teaching us to interpret the true feeling of human anxiety, they should
teach us not to add to the pain and the inevitable horrors, the pain and
the supreme horror of moral pessimism.
 Carlos Vaz Ferreira 201

ON MORAL CONSCIOUSNESS

It has been observed and written that remorse is not inseparable from im-
morality nor proportionate to the immorality of the person or his acts.
However, there are other errors and even some mystification concerning
moral consciousness; for example, to believe, to make another believe or
make oneself believe that peace of mind is a natural possession of good
people, that it is their normal state, and even that it is a criterion or mea-
sure of their moral superiority. Here is a mixture of error and mystifica-
tion, that pedagogical mystification in which at times it is so difficult to
distinguish the sincere from the hypocritical, although the latter is more
or less unconscious.
To be able to live with an undisturbed conscience, far from being a
criterion of moral superiority, normally reflects some inferiority, usually
an insensitivity, except in some cases of mental simplicity, in which case
the inferiority would be intellectual.
There is more than one reason for this.
In the first place, the option, as made available for our action by the
real circumstances of life, is ordinarily between acts or rules of conduct,
each of which contains some evil. Only in exceptional cases, exceptions
from real life, does one have the choice between good acts and one or
more evil acts. In any case it is quite frequent that the only option we have
is among acts, all of which are in part evil and of which, if one can say
that one is better than the others, it is only because one produces or con-
tains less evil.
Thus, even in the life of the most refined and pure man, evil is
achieved, damage is caused, and pain is produced. And although logically
or intellectually this should not give rise to suffering and even less to
remorse, as a matter of fact, in the sensitive man it does.
And further, there is moral doubt. Even supposing a man who had
resolved all the moral difficulties of his life in what we might call an objec-
tively good fashion, if his moral psychological perspective is refined, he
will have doubts: moral doubts about the past, about the present, and
concerning the future. Now moral doubt is suffering and it is also an
unpeaceful mind. So the absence of moral doubt, except in the case of sin-
gular mental simplicity, is not a criterion of moral superiority but of infe-
riority.
The illusion of peace of mind can be produced from the outside also,
as with some historical types in which, even though one supposes they
had the peace of mind attributed to them in their biographies or that the
historians have ascribed to them, we still find some insensitivity or defi-
ciency even in the most noble characters. To take a prime example: if
202 Part III: Values

Marcus Aurelius had the peace of mind described in his Memoirs, we still
feel that there was in him a deficiency akin to insensitivity in the soul of
a man responsible for the persecution and death of many Christians. The
insensitivity to which I refer would be twofold: insensitivity to the evil
actually done and insensitivity to scruples and moral doubt.
Another absurd state or attitude related to “moral consciousness” is
the pretense to “console” through appeal to peace of mind, to console a
man in some specific circumstance or to console the human soul in the
midst of evil, injustice, or suffering. For example, some employee, a man
of action who has completed a good project and then sees it destroyed, is
a man who suffers. He feels and suffers because he loved the project not
through vanity or not so much through vanity but because good was
accomplished through the project. To pretend, then, to console him with
peace of mind would be as absurd as pretending to console a father who
had lost his son by reminding the father that he had done everything pos-
sible, such as calling the doctor in plenty of time and giving his son all
required aid.
It is true that the father would suffer if he had not done what should
have been done, but that is all that suffering has to do with “peace of
mind.”
However, on this foundation certain pedagogical mystifications, more
or less well intentioned, are organized, but their effects in the end are
counterproductive, even from a pragmatic point of view. For that mystifica-
tion is precisely the unfortunate aspect of a certain kind of book that in
preaching truth and justice promises happiness as an automatic reward.
There is no need to name authors since any one of them can be substituted
for another, for the tendency is the same in them all. Those who write this
kind of book are either insensitive or pretenders or perhaps they do not feel
the pain of inevitable evil and injustice, of inevitable moral doubt and
remorse. Perhaps they are hypocrites or write with mere words.
Furthermore and even more important, these books show a lack of
respect for suffering and for the victims of the injustices of nature and of
men. For if it has been possible to write these books, books for which
peace of mind always accompanies the good, so that good finds its prize
and recompense, again, if it has been possible for these books to be
written (in the sense intended here, but not on the much more profound
level in which it is all true, but in another sense), it is because their
authors do not have a proper fellow feeling or sufficient understanding of
human suffering. Their mental state proves they have not adequately
experienced the pain of those who suffer unjustly or the pain of evil and
injustice itself. The true books on moral issues, the good books had to be
written by those capable of feeling pain and injustice and of recognizing
its partial inevitability.
 Carlos Vaz Ferretra 203

As for those phrases such as “to have no guide or judge other than
one’s conscience,” and with its approval to live satisfied and happy, let us
not forget that the conscience adjusts to situations. If there is any kind of
man to be feared in this life, it is that kind who has managed to train his
conscience and at the same time has no judge other than his conscience.
 v= gn ne etingpee 7 payersitl « eas .
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Miguel Reale
(b. 1910)

he continuing labor as educator and as supporter of philosophical

activity that Reale carried out in his country for many years,
together with voluminous published works in philosophy, has gained for
him an outstanding reputation among Brazilian thinkers in the second
quarter of the twentieth century. His interests have been focused primarily
on the philosophy of law. However, this did not prevent him from making
important contributions to axiology and philosophical anthropology from
the general historicist perspective that he calls “cultural realism.”
Born in 1910 in Sao Bento do Sapucai, in the state of Sao Paulo, he
concluded his secondary studies in the Dante Alighieri Institute in that
city. He placed first in a class of over a thousand members with an essay
entitled “O valor da previdéncia na formacao do carater,” in which he for-
mulates themes that were basic to his later work. He entered the faculty
of law the year after his graduation from high school and received his
degree in 1934. In the same year he published his first book, O estado
moderno. He decided to give teaching his major attention and taught
Latin, Portuguese, law, and psychology. In 1940 he obtained the chair of
philosophy of law in the University of Sao Paulo on the basis of Funda-
mentos do direito, his first important theoretical work, in which he laid the
foundation for his well-known “tridimensional theory of law.” From this
moment on he began his tireless efforts to promote philosophical thought.
With the assistance of a distinguished group of Brazilian philosophers,
among whom were Ferreira da Silva, Washington Vita, Eurfalo Canabrava,
and others, he established the Instituto Brasileiro de Filosofia in 1949 and
the following year the Revista Brasileira de Filosofia. As president of the
institute he assisted in organizing several national and international con-
gresses of philosophy (Sao Paulo, 1950-56, 1959, 1972; Fortaleza, 1962),

205
206 Part, III: Values

and in 1954 he assisted in founding the Inter-American Society of Philos-

ophy, of which he was president. In addition, he had other important
administrative positions in academic and political institutions, holding the
position of president of the University of Sao Paulo in 1949 and on two
occasions secretary of justice. In later years, concerned with the destiny of
his country, he joined the opposition to the leftist government of President
Joao Goulart, playing an important role in the revolution of March 1964.
In 1969 he again assumed the presidency of the University of Sao Paulo.
Reale’s work is extensive, including more than twenty books and
numerous articles and essays. Among the books, the most outstanding
are: Horizontes do direito e da historia (1966), Teoria tridimensional do
direito (1968), and O direito como experiéncia (1968). However, it is in his
Filosofia do direito (1953) and Pluralismo y liberdade (1963) that his
thought acquires a greater maturity and strength and his conception of the
person as “the value-source of all values” was formulated. He states,

what is certain is that man . . . the more he sounds the depths of the mys-
teries of the cosmos, the more he feels the urgency to turn toward him-
self, toward the inwardness of his consciousness, in toward the deep self,
whose being is its ought to be, where freedom and value, being and ought
to be, individual and society, existence and transcendence are inter-
woven, only when this occurs does man experience plenitude of being as
a person, as a value-source of all values, aside from which the most rig-
orous and verifiable conquests of the sciences would have no meaning.
Philosophy of Law

VALUES AND THE REALM OF OUGHT TO BE

S authors acknowledge only the sphere of objects or determina-

tions of reality seen thus far, namely, that of natural and ideal
objects, because they include within the latter what seem to me ought to
constitute a third fundamental category under the designation of values.
They maintain that values also are ideal objects.
I disagree with that point of view, because, although there are ele-
ments of contact and similarity between values and ideal objects, there is
no lack of other essential elements of difference. Values as such possess a
reality that is also aspatial and atemporal—in other words, they display a
mode of “being” that is not bound to space and time. But already here a
great difference arises. Insofar as ideal objects have value independently
of what happens in space or time, values can only be conceived in terms
of something existing, that is, of valuable things. Furthermore, ideal
objects are quantifiable; values allow no possibility of quantification
whatsoever. We cannot say that Michelangelo’s David is five or ten times
more valuable than Bernini’s David. The idea of numeration or quantifi-
cation is completely alien to the valuative or axiological element. It is not
a matter, then, of mere absence of temporality and spatiality, but rather of
absolute impossibility of measurement. The valuable cannot be numbered
or quantified. Sometimes we measure it by indirect, empirical, and prag-
matic methods, as happens, for example, when we express the “utility” of
economic goods in terms of price; but these are mere references for prac-

From Miguel Reale, Filosofia do direito, 4th ed. (Sao Paulo: Saraiva, 1965), pt. 1, chap. 12,
pp. 167-72; pt. 1, chap. 16, pp. 213-15; pt. 2, chap. 27, pp. 332-34. Reprinted by permission
of the author.

PAE
208 Part III: Values

tical life. Values as such are immensurable and not subject to comparison
in terms of a unit or common denominator.
At first sight, it seems that we have started out with a definition of
value. In fact, however, it is impossible to define value according to the
logico-formal requirements of proximate genus and specific difference. In
this sense, however legitimate the purpose of a rigorous definition might
be, we agree with Lotze that about value we can only say that it has value.
Its “being” is its “having value.” In the same way that we say that “being
is what is,” we must say that “value is what has value.” Why so? Because
“being” and “having value” are two fundamental categories, two primor-
dial positions of spirit in the face of reality. Either we see things insofar as
they are or we see them insofar as they have value; and because they have
value, they ought to be. No equialent third alternative exists. All other pos-
sible alternatives are reducible to those two or are governed by them.
When we say, for example, that things “evolve,” the “evolving” is nothing
more than an unfolding or modality of “being”’—it is being unfolded in
time. We often say, using a metaphor, that to be and ought to be are some-
what like the left and right eyes, which together allow us “to see” reality,
discerning it in its regions and structures, which are explained in terms of
two fundamental principles: causality and purpose.
The distinction between to be and ought to be is an old one in phi-
losophy, but it begins to take on a more pronounced importance with
Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason. It is in this major work that the distinction
between to be and ought to be, between Sein and Sollen, is established
with clarity and with the full weight of its significance.
Reality—the consistency of which in itself constitutes a problem that
transcends the particular area of ontognoseology to find its place in meta-
physics—reality unfolds, thus, into a multiplicity of “objects,” according
to a double perspective corresponding to the distinction between judg-
ments of fact and judgments of value. If, as we have said, an object is any-
thing that can be the object of a judgment, then we can distinguish two
orders of objects according to the two prisms cited, as follows:

physical
TO BE natural objects ¢ psychic
ideal objects
cultural objects
OUGHT TO BE—values (they are insofar as
they ought to be)

As we shall see in the following pages, values are not to be confused

with cultural objects. The latter are derived and complex objects, repre-
senting a form of integration of to be and ought to be, which means that
 Miguel Reale 209

we do not conceive culture as “value” in the way that Windelband,

Rickert, or Radbruch do. Rather, culture is first and foremost an integrating
element, inconceivable without the to be-ought to be correlation; and if
culture marks a perennial reference of what is natural to the world of
values, it is no less true that without it nature would have no meaning and
values would not even be possible... .

CHARACTERISTICS OF VALUE

Value is always bipolar. The bipolarity possible in the realm of ideal

objects is only essential in values; this alone would be sufficient not to
confuse the two. A triangle or a circumference are, and nothing is opposed
to this manner of being. On the contrary, bipolarity is inseparable from the
realm of values, because a negative value is opposed to each value: an evil
to a good, the ugly to the beautiful, the vile to the noble; and the meaning
of one demands that of the other. Positive and negative values contradict
and imply each other in a single process.
The dynamics of right result, as a matter of fact, from estimative po-
larity, since right is the concretion of axiological elements: there is a
“right” and a “wrong,” a licit and an illicit. The contradictory force that
characterizes juridical life in all its areas reflects the bipolarity of the
values that shape it. It is not by mere coincidence that there always is a
victim and a culprit, a contradiction in the revelation of right, since the
juridical life develops in the tension between positive and negative values.
Right promotes certain values that it regards as positive and suppresses
certain acts that constitute negations of values. It could be said that to a
certain extent right exists because there is the possibility that values
regarded by society as essential to living together might be violated.
If values are bipolar, it must be added that they are also reciprocally
implied, in the sense that they are not realized without influencing,
directly or indirectly, the realization of the remaining values. Nicolai Hart-
mann makes very clear the expansive and exclusivist force of values, each
one tending to subordinate the rest of its estimative schemes. The realm
of culture is a realm of solidarity, in the sense of the necessary interde-
pendence of its elements, but not in the sense of a pacific or harmonious
coexistence of interest and values. In this light, the total ethical solidarity
implied by objective justice is a living tension in the quadrants of history
and, in that way, as we shall see, right represents the fundamental force
of the ever-confined social composition of values. Although the charac-
teristics of polarity and implication are observed in values considered in
themselves, or in the relation of some to the rest, we must remember that
they lend themselves to the same situation in reality. Every value is
210 Part III: Values

opposed to the given, that is, to that which is presented as a mere fact here
and now, as pure phenomenal reality. Value, in short, is opposed to fact;
it is never reduced to fact. At the same time, moreover, every value implies
a fact as condition of its realization, although it always transcends it.
Bipolarity and implication are qualities of value that reflect or trans-
late the very nature of human conditionality, of spirit that is only con-
scious of itself and realized insofar as it is inclined and objectifies itself
“to be as it ought to be.” This brings us to consider the third characteristic
of value, namely, its necessity of direction or reference.
Besides bipolarity, value always implies a taking of position by man
and, consequently, a direction, a reference in existence. All that has value,
has value for something or in the direction of something and for someone.
We usually say—and we find that expression also used by Wolfgang
Kohler, although in a slightly different way*—that values are vectorial enti-
ties, because they always point toward a direction, they are directed
toward a determinate, recognizable point as an end. It is precisely because
values have a direction that they determine conduct. Our life is nothing
spiritually but a perennial experience of values. To live is to take a posi-
tion with respect to values and to integrate them in our “world,” per-
fecting our personality in the measure that we give value to things, to
other men, and to ourselves. Only man is capable of values, and only in
virtue of man is axiological reality possible.+
Value involves, then, an orientation and, as such, presents a fourth
characteristic, preference. It is for this reason that, for us, every theory of
value has as a logical, not causal, consequence, a teleology or theory of
ends. Thus we say that an end is nothing but a value insofar as it is ratio-
nally recognized as a motive of conduct.
Every society has a table of values, so that the physiognomy of an
epoch depends on the way in which its values are distributed or ordered.
It is there that we find another characteristic of value: the possibility of its
ordering or preferential or hierarchical gradation, though such gradation is
incommensurable, as we have already stated.
Bipolarity, implication, reference, preference, incommensurability, and
hierarchical gradation are, clearly, characteristics that distinguish the
realm of values.
There is a possible ordering of the valuable, not absolutely, but rather
in the cultural cycles that represent human history, while it is also true
that there is something constant in the realm of estimations, something
that conditions the historical process as a fundamental axiological cate-
gory. This is man himself seen as value or spiritual source of all axiolog-
ical experience.
Values represent, consequently, the realm of ought to be, of ideal norms,
according to which human existence is realized, reflecting itself in acts and
 Miguel Reale DLL

works, in forms of behavior, and in the achievements of civilization and cul-

ture, that is, in goods that represent the object of cultural sciences.
We have already said that from to be one cannot pass to ought to be,
but the reciprocal is not true; if values were never realized, at least rela-
tively, they would mean nothing to man. There is a vast field of experi-
ence whose existence results from the historical objectification of values:
it is the historico-cultural realm, or the realm of “cultural objects,” which
are distinguishable “by being insofar as they ought to be.” This, then, is a
distinct category of objects, whose special nature requires the solution of
some problems raised above... .
Only then will it be possible to clarify other aspects of value, such as,
for example, its objectivity and absoluteness, understanding it as a quality
not susceptible of revealing itself without something on which to support
itself and without one or more consciousnesses to which it may refer.
The characteristic of objectivity of value, by which is recognized the
necessity of distinguishing between value and valuation or value and
interest, that is, that values are objectively imposed upon our subjective
experiences, requires that we make a reference, though short, to the prin-
cipal doctrines on the origin and binding or normative force of values.
Only then shall we be able to understand one of the fundamental charac-
teristics of value, which consists in never coinciding entirely with the
awareness that we may have of them, always superseding it in a dialec-
tical process that involves the historical dimension of man... .

[CLASSIFICATION OF VALUES]

For our purposes, we shall prefer a simple distinction, from the point of
view of content, generally accepted, with this or that variant, by writers
on this subject matter:

TRUE Logic and Methodology

Ontognoseology
BEAUTIFUL—Art and Aesthetics
USEFUL—Economy and Economic Philosophy
VALUES ( HOLY—Religion and Philosophy of Religion
individual—Moral
Law
GOOD social Ethics
Custom

This is more an illustration of values than a classification pretending

DAO, Part II: Values

to satisfy all logical requirements. We could say that, within the funda-
mental values, we emphasize the above mentioned, because it is around
these that subordinate values are gathered, constituting true “axiological
constellations,” which control, at times completely, collective and indi-
vidual behavior. However, we must repeat, all of these gravitate around
the fundamental value, which is that of man as person, in virtue of which
and through which all values have value.
In the first place, we have the value of the true, to which some authors
refer purely and simply by the word truth, giving to this term an axiolog-
ical meaning.
The truth, as such, is not properly a value, but rather an objective
relation. The true is the axiological expression of truth, that is, the attitude
of spirit or spiritual dimension in the face of truth. The true only concerns
knowledge, whether its structure—and thus we have logic—or its
method—and thus we have gnoseology or, to use a more comprehensive
term, ontognoseology....
The second value is that of the beautiful, which is the basic value of
the arts and gives origin to aesthetics.
Is the beautiful an autonomous value or is it reducible to some other
value? The Socratico-Platonic definition of the beautiful as the splendor of
the true is well known. There are some who deny full significance to the
beautiful, conceiving beauty as an instrument for the realization of some-
thing true, the good, the useful, or the economic—taking the last adjective
in its broadest sense.
Thus arises the problem of the autonomy of art, the problem of
knowing whether there is a possible realization of the beautiful in itself,
in its full significance, or whether the beautiful should be considered
merely as an instrument at the service of an ideology, of any social or indi-
vidual end. We believe the beautiful to be irreducible to other estimative
foci, and although it shines more in conjunction or harmony with the
remaining values, it does not lose its specific nature for this reason.
The third value, better known as a result of already available studies
of political economy, is the value of the useful. Political economy, in its
broadest sense, is the science of the useful, that is, of goods that can sat-
isfy the desires and needs of man in society and that, as a consequence,
are destined for exchange and consumption.
The useful is the founding value of economic, commercial, industrial,
or agricultural activity. It poses at the same time a series of problems that
economic science tries to solve, involving itself in investigations that
constitute the object of economic philosophy.
As is well known, there are many who attempt to transform the value of
the useful in value par excellence, the value characterizing the dominant line
of the historical process, to such an extent that all other values, including the
 Miguel Reale PAM

ethical and religious, would be simple consequences of technical processes

of production, dictated by the increasing needs of social life.4
In the fourth place, we have as fundamental value the value of the
holy or religious; the value of the transcendent, of the human destiny to
what is beyond existential contingency. This is the basic value of religion
as well as the cause of the philosophy of religion.
We would have, in the fifth place, according to some authors, the
value of life, which is not to be understood in the biological sense of the
term, but rather as indicating the full realization of individual or social
existence.
Life is even presented as the fundamental value, considering as sci-
ence par excellence that which is concerned with the life of man in the
totality of its expressions, whether psychical or sociological, spiritual or
material. Our times feel, in fact, a very strong attraction for the problem
of life or existence. This should not cause surprise in a historical moment
in which nothing seems so endangered as life itself or so precarious as
existence.
The appearance of the philosophy of existence, of which existen-
tialism is one expression, as well as the flowering of the philosophy of life,
is understandable in the present historical coordinates and circumstances,
because philosophy is never a series of conjectures formulated by some
men eradicated and separated from the social and historical medium to
which they belong. In those trends there is a correct insistence on the
thesis that all philosophical systems or thinking is conditioned by histor-
ical experience, being impossible to conceive the attitude of a thinker
without taking into consideration his existence, according to Ortega’s for-
mula: “I am myself and my circumstances.”5
We think, however, that life as such is not a fundamental value, except
in the sense that it contains or can contain the condition of the material
realization of all values. All values, in a certain sense, refer to life, the
vehicle of estimatives.
On the other hand, the life value can be considered as reducible to the
useful, taking the latter term in a broad sense, since the useful is such only
in the measure in which it enters in harmony with the fundamental needs
of existence. Under this aspect, one can speak of the useful-vital, pointing
to a unique axiological integration.
It is still left for us to deal with the value of the good, whose
consideration, however, involves the whole problem of the philosophy of
law. .
214 Part III: Values

ACT AND VALUE

Only man educates because only man conducts himself. The problem of
education is linked to the problem of self-determination. I educate
because I conduct myself—“educo, quia duco”: I educate because I am
capable of conducting myself. If I were simply led, without awareness of
the determinant motives of my acts, I would have no right to transfer or
transmit values to others. Man, insofar as he is merely caused, is no dif-
ferent from other animals except for the awareness of his determination,
due to which he carries out the same acts in which all other beings
belonging to the same genus participate.
What is specific to man is to conduct himself, to choose ends and con-
sequently means to ends. End-directed action (the act properly called or
the action in its proper and specific sense) is something belonging only to
man. One cannot speak, except metaphorically, of the action or the act of
a dog or a horse. “Act” is something pertaining exclusively to the human
being. Other animals move themselves; man alone acts. Action presup-
poses awareness of ends, possibility of option, singular projection in the
seal of the species, excellence of attitudes, perfecting in the ways of being
and acting. This problem is linked to that of culture, and, as the latter has
its roots in freedom, in the power of synthesis that allows man to establish
new processes while conscious of being integrated in nature and the vital
complex conditioned by culture.
Let us emphasize now the problem of action in order to examine its
constitutive elements.
Action in its strict sense, or act, is energy directed toward something
that is always a value. Value, therefore, is that toward which human action
tends, because it recognizes itself in a determined moment, to be motive,
positive or negative, of action itself. We do not investigate here the nature
or species of values, but only confirm that every time man acts he objec-
tifies or opposes something valuable. To act without motive is proper to the
alienated. The alienated is one who is alien to his conduct. It is one who
loses the sense of his direction and dignity.
We posit here the problem of alienation, of the state of the man who
finds himself divorced from his essence, an alien or stranger to himself,
with all the consequences that are being pointed out from Hegel and Marx
to Gabriel Marcel. These consequences should always be present to the
spirit of the jurist or politician, whose main difficulty consists in con-
ceiving and realizing a social order in which men, groups, and classes do
not become alienated.
To say that man is a rational being is the same as saying that he is a
being who directs himself. Action, therefore, always implies a valuation.
 Miguel Reale Zuo

Every value, consequently, is an opening to ought to be. When one speaks

of value, one speaks always of a solicitation of behavior or of a direction
for action.
Value and ought imply and need each other reciprocally. Without the
idea of value, we have no understanding of ought. When ought originates
in value and is rationally received and recognized as the motive of action
or act, we have what is called an end.
End is the ought to be of value, rationally recognized as the motive of
action.
This distinction between value and end is not made with precision in
classical thought. Many times it is spoken merely of ends, but every doc-
trine of ends hides an axiological theory in its bosom.
Here is a very delicate problem: the relation between axiology and
teleology. For us, every teleology presupposes a theory of values. It is pos-
sible to speak of ends because the problem of the valuable has been posed
before. ...
In our view, the notion of end is derived from the notion of value. End
is value insofar as it can be rationally grasped and recognized as motive
of action. We have already seen that we climb to the world of values
through emotional roads, and that value always transcends our rational
ways of understanding. Beauty, justice, and all other values are not
exhausted in rational formulas or schemes. What we declare as end is but
a moment of value comprehended by our limited rationality, while its real-
ization involves a problem of adequate means.
The nexus or relation of means to end is, and cannot stop being, of a
rational nature; but the reference or adherence to a value can be dictated
by motives that reason does not explain. Human history is a dramatic
process of conversion of values into ends, and of cultural crises resulting
from the loss of axiological force verified in ends that new generations
refuse “to recognize.”

NOTES
1. A literal translation would be “judgments of reality” and “judgments of
value. ””—TRANS.
2. See Wolfgang Kéhler, The Place of Value in a World of Fact (New York: n.p.,
1938).—TRANS.
3. Ibid., p. 104.—TRANs.
4. The reference is to Marxism, a strong movement at the time Reale’s book
was published.—TRans.
5. Ortega y Gasset, Obras completas (Madrid: n.p., 1947), 2:19.—TRANs.
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 PART IV
The Search
for Identity
Introduction

DEFINING LATIN AMERICA:

NATIONAL VERSUS CONTINENTAL APPROACHES

he selections included in Section A of Part IV deal with the problem

of determining what it means to speak of “Latin America” and
“Latin Americans” and the peculiar problems facing thinkers who analyze
Latin American social reality, both within the countries of Latin America
and in the United States. The nations and the people of the region that has
become known as Latin America are not homogenous, as the umbrella
term might lead some to think. The countries that constitute Latin
America have different political systems, different currencies, different
languages, and significantly different histories. Simdn Bolivar was “the
Liberator” of most of the countries of South America, including
Venezuela, Colombia, Panama, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Peru (and British
Guiana), but he did not liberate Mexico or Argentina from the clutches of
Spain, for example. Obviously, each of the nations of Latin America shares
a common past of colonization and an ensuing struggle for independence,
but Brazil’s relation to Portugal was quite unlike the relation that the
Spanish colonies had to Spain. The nations of Latin America did not deal
with the condition of colonization in identical ways, nor were they colo-
nized in the same way.
Nevertheless, there are common themes that tie the philosophers of
the region together at particular times. In dealing with the problem of
defining the identity of Latin American philosophy, some philosophers
favor what can be called a national approach whereas others favor a con-
tinental approach. For example, Sarmiento deals in particular with
Argentina and the special problems besetting that nation. Likewise, Mar-

219
220 Part IV: The Search for Identity

iategui addresses Peruvian reality, not Latin American reality, and Ramos
turns his attention to the problem facing Mexicans. In contrast, Marti
addresses issues of nuestra America (our America), emphasizing what is
common to all the nations that compose Latin America, and Vasconcelos
speaks of a raza cosmica (a cosmic race), not of a Mexican race.
Which approach makes more sense? Certainly, if the main question
facing Latin American philosophers is that of cultural identity, given the
fact that there is great variety among the populations of different countries
within Latin America, answers to the question might be substantially dif-
ferent from country to country or even within the same country, and so
national or regional approaches might be more appropriate to capture the
identity of these peoples. Consider, for example, the Mayan population of
Chiapas, Mexico, and the Nahuatl-speaking weavers of Guerrero, as com-
pared to the cosmopolitan population of Mexico City. (The radical differ-
ences between the lifestyles of the criollos or American-born Spaniards,
the mestizos, or peoples of mixed indigenous and Spanish heritage, and
the indios are still evident today.) Mexico, Guatemala, Peru, Bolivia, and
Paraguay have large indigenous populations, whereas countries such as
Argentina, Chile, and Venezuela, for example, do not.
So, one may ask whether this difference might not give rise to a sub-
stantially different response to the question: Who are we? Is it not the case
that a Peruvian philosopher concerned with capturing or attempting to
provide an analysis of Peruvian social reality has to take the Amerindian
culture into consideration, whereas a philosopher in Argentina with the
same philosophical task might legitimately be more concerned with the
ways in which various waves of European immigration have influenced
the social reality of Argentina? The popular and rather humorous saying
that “The Mexicans descend from the Aztecs, the Peruvians from the
Incas, the Argentinens from the ships, and the Venezuelans from the oil”
has some truth in it insofar as it points to the unique historical circum-
stances of each of these nations. And this truth might be overlooked when
we approach the issue of cultural identity by attending merely to Latin
America.
The issue of identity has also a political dimension, for it is clear that
the nations of Latin America have varied political pasts. Therefore, some-
thing important is lost when we generalize in our philosophical investiga-
tion of identity and speak of the identity of all Latin Americans as if it
were the same, whether one is concerned with a Ndahuatl-speaking weaver
in Mexico or a cattle rancher in Argentina.
In order to arrive at a definition of Latin American identity, we would
do well to pay close attention to both the national and the continental
approaches to this problem. There is something like nuestra América that
is worthy of philosophical attention and, therefore, it behooves philoso-
 Introduction DO

phers to go beyond national boundaries and to take something like a raza

cosmica seriously. It does indeed make sense to speak of a Hispanic/
Latino identity, yet this must be done with the awareness that the gauchos
are particularly Argentine and an important element in understanding the
particular breed of Latin American reality that is not only Latin American
but also Argentine. Likewise, the problems of the indigenous populations
in Peru and in Mexico are particular to those nations and are not repre-
sentative of any continental problems besetting the entire region. In short,
to capture accurately the social reality of Latin America, we must adopt
both a continental and a national approach, for when we deal with the
problem of the nations and the peoples of Latin America, certain aspects
of social reality can best be addressed continentally and others are best
dealt with via a national or regional approach. We uncover certain aspects
of the social reality of the nations of Latin America if we approach the
reality of postcolonial Latin American countries one by one, giving each
their proper place of cultural, historical, and political significance, which
otherwise would be missed.

A NEW DIMENSION OF THE PROBLEM OF IDENTITY:

HISPANICS/LATINOS IN THE UNITED STATES

The problems facing philosophers as they grapple with the issue of the
identity of Latin American nations and peoples become even more com-
plicated for philosophers who deal with these issues in the context of the
United States. What happens to the identity of Mexicans (whether of Euro-
pean, indigenous, or mestizo descent), Cubans (of Spanish, African, or
mixed race descent), Colombians, Dominicans, etc., who immigrate to the
United States? Can we speak meaningfully of these groups with one single
term? If so, what term would capture the identity of this group? Or is the
group so diverse that no single term can adequately capture its identity?
These issues become particularly relevant when the question of rights
is raised. In particular, do groups of immigrants from Latin America have
special rights and should they receive special benefits because they belong
to those groups? To shed light on this problem, we have included three
selections from contemporary philosophers who have dealt with these
issues. Selections from the work of Jorge Gracia, Linda Martin Alcoff, and
Ofelia Schutte show that the discussion of the identity of
Hispanics/Latinos in the United States is complicated precisely because
the group comprises a variety of ethnic, religious, and racial strains. And
it is no easy task to find a term that will do justice to this diversity, while
capturing the underlying unity of the group.
Latin American philosophers have discussed and developed views of
222 Part IV: The Search for Identity

the identity of the nations and peoples of Latin America, but their discus-
sion of identity does not end there. They have also posed questions con-
cerning the identity of Latin American thought and philosophy itself.
There are many different approaches to this problem. Let us begin by con-
sidering the traditional ways in which this problem has been addressed by
Latin American philosophers.

THE SEARCH FOR IDENTITY IN LATIN AMERICAN

THOUGHT AND PHILOSOPHY: UNIVERSALISM,
CULTURALISM, AND THE CRITICAL VIEW

In spite of the fact that Latin American philosophers have expressed many
positions on the subject of what constitutes Latin American thought and phi-
losophy, their opinions can be classified under three basic headings: univer-
salist, culturalist, and critical. The first refers to a view inspired by a long tra-
dition that goes back to the Greeks. According to this view, philosophy is a
science (be it of concepts or of reality); as such, the principles it adopts and
inferences it draws are meant to be universally valid and, consequently, it
makes no sense to talk about a Latin American philosophy, just as it does
not make any sense to talk about Latin American chemistry or physics. Phi-
losophy, as a discipline of learning, cannot acquire idiosyncratic characteris-
tics that may, in turn, make it Latin American, French, or Italian. Philosophy,
strictly speaking, is simply philosophy, or philosophy “as such.”! In spite of
the fact that normally one may speak of “French” and “German” philosophy,
this does not mean that philosophy as such is any different in the two cases.
Categories like “French” and “German” are used as historical designations to
refer to historical periods that include the thinking of the time or place one
wishes to discuss. This does not mean that philosophy in a particular period
is in itself any different from philosophy in another period. What may be
considered idiosyncratic to the philosophy of a given period is not an essen-
tial part of philosophy, but simply the product of circumstances surrounding
the development of the discipline at the time. As a result, then, such idio-
syncrasies, which could also be called accidents, are not part of the discipline
and are not included in its study; they are only part of historical studies con-
cerning the period in question, just as a mathematical error is not part of
mathematics, and just as the study of Egyptian physical theories is not part
of physics. Philosophy, like mathematics and other disciplines of human
learning, consists of a series of truths and methods of inquiry that have no
spatiotemporal characteristics. Its application and validity are universal and
therefore independent of the historical conditions in which they are discov-
ered. The conclusion, for instance, that rationality is part of human nature is
intended as a claim that is true or false anywhere and at any time.
 Introduction 223

Consequently, the answer to the question of whether there is a Latin

American philosophy is, from this perspective, negative. Furthermore, this
view not only denies that there is a Latin American philosophy, but it also
rejects that there could be one, for it sees an intrinsic incompatibility
between the nature of philosophy as a universal discipline of learning and
such particular products as culture.
To this, the culturalist responds by contending that the universalist
makes a serious mistake. Philosophy, as everything based on human expe-
rience, depends on specific spatiotemporal coordinates for its validity.
There are no universal and absolute truths. Truth is always concrete and
the product of a viewpoint, an individual perspective. This can be applied
even to mathematical truths, as Ortega, a philosopher followed by many
culturalists, suggests.?
Orteguian perspectivism, introduced in Latin America by many of
Ortega’s disciples, particularly José Gaos, is to a great extent responsible for
the popularity of the culturalist view in Latin America. A philosophy that
emphasizes the value of the particular and idiosyncratic lends itself quite
easily to support the views of culturalist thinkers. Consequently, many of
them adopted this view without hesitation, adapting it to their conceptual
needs. This is how the idea of a Latin American philosophy as a philosophy
peculiar to the continent came about, a philosophy different from that of other
cultures and particularly opposed to Anglo-Saxon culture and philosophy.
This philosophy is supposedly the product of Latin American culture, which
is in turn the product of the perspective from which Latin Americans think.
This view has given way to the search for an autochthonous philosophy that
can unambiguously reflect the characteristics of Latin American culture.
From this perspective, it is not only possible to find a Latin American
philosophy, it is actually the case that any genuine philosophy produced
in Latin America must be Latin American. If it is not, then it is simply a
copy of philosophies produced elsewhere, imported and imposed on the
continent. As such, these alien ways of thinking do not constitute a gen-
uine or authentic philosophy when they are adopted in Latin America,
since they do not have any relation to Latin American culture, being as
they are the product of perspectives and conditions completely foreign to
those of the continent.
Many of the thinkers who adopt this view conclude that, at present,
there is no Latin American philosophy because the only philosophy that
has been practiced in the region is imported. But at the same time, while
accepting this, they trust in a different future. Others, on the contrary,
point out that there are some Latin American philosophical perspectives
that can be classified as Latin American, and although they may be few,
they are sufficient to justify the use of the term “Latin American philos-
ophy” with a culturalist connotation.
224 Part IV: The Search for Identity

A third view adopted by Latin American philosophers in relation to

this problem may be described as critical; it has been put forward as a
reaction against both universalism and culturalism, although it takes some
elements from both. This view, like universalism, rejects the existence of
a Latin American philosophy not because the term “Latin American” is
incompatible with the term “philosophy,” but rather because until now
philosophy in Latin America has had an ideological character, that is, it
has not been a free pursuit. Philosophy has been used and continues to
be used, pace the adherents of the critical view, to support ideas con-
ducive to both the continuation of a status quo and the benefit of certain
groups. To support this charge, those who adhere to the critical view point
to scholasticism and positivism as philosophical developments that
thwarted the development and progress of Latin American philosophy.
With regard to scholasticism, these critics point out that the Spanish
Crown made use of scholastic philosophy to maintain its political and eco-
nomic control over the New World. Scholastic philosophy, they suggest,
became an instrument to sustain an otherwise ideologically untenable
position.
In the case of positivism, they emphasize how certain Latin American
governments used this philosophical school to justify both their notion of
social order and supremacy of a ruling elite. The most frequently cited
case is that of Porfirio Diaz’s government in Mexico, which adopted pos-
itivism as the official doctrine of his dictatorship. The inference drawn, on
the basis of this and other examples, is that until now there has not been,
and in the future there cannot be, a genuine and authentic Latin American
philosophy so long as present social and economic conditions prevail.
Only when this situation changes and philosophy is no longer used ideo-
logically to justify the modus vivendi can there be an opportunity for a
genuine and authentic Latin American philosophy to develop. Some of
those who defend this view think that this Latin American philosophy will
be the product of a particular Latin American perspective, adopting there-
fore a culturalist view with respect to the future. Others, on the contrary,
take a universalist position and suggest that this nonideological philos-
ophy will be universally valid and not relative to the particular circum-
stances of Latin America. They all coincide, however, in viewing the role
of philosophy in Latin America in a critical light.

HISTORICAL DEVELOPMENT OF THE PROBLEM

Explicit questions about the existence of a Latin American philosophy

were first explored in the writings of Leopoldo Zea and Risieri Frondizi in
the 1940s. The growth of philosophical literature until then seemed to jus-
 Introduction 225

tify and perhaps even require an investigation into the nature, themes, and
limits of the philosophical activity. The proliferation of specialized jour-
nals, the creation of philosophy departments in various universities, and
the foundation of international associations that had started to coordinate
philosophical activity in the continent made possible the raising of an
issue that continues to concern Latin American philosophers until today.4
Even before Zea and Frondizi, however, the Argentine Juan Bautista
Alberdi (1810-1884) had raised the problem of the character and future of
Latin American philosophy.> An outstanding member of the thriving lib-
eral movement of his time, Alberdi put forth his ideas under the influence
of a liberalism very closely related to the philosophical rationalism, the
anticlericalism, and the optimism about industrialization that were so
characteristic of nineteenth-century Latin America. His view of philos-
ophy, consequently, is not alien to the basic tenets of this movement.
Alberdi, however, had a high degree of awareness with respect to the con-
nection between philosophy and cultural identity that, for good reasons,
has drawn the attention of many philosophers who have subsequently
focused on the theme of Latin American philosophy.
According to Alberdi, a Latin American philosophy must have a social
and political character intimately related to the most vital needs of the
continent. Philosophy is an instrument that can help to introduce an
awareness of the social, political, and economic needs of Latin American
nations. This is why Alberdi categorically rejected metaphysics and other
“pure and abstract” philosophical fields, for he viewed them as alien to
urgent national needs.°®
As the selections from Part A indicate, since the independence of the
Latin American territories from the Spanish and Portuguese colonial yoke
in the nineteenth century, the issue of the identity of the nations and peo-
ples of Latin America has been explored in great depth by a wide variety
of philosophers. This search to define the nations and the peoples of this
vast and variegated region continued to shape the history of ideas in the
twentieth century. The more rigorous philosophical discussion of identity
took longer to be developed and sustained.
Our discussion of Alberdi’s early comments attests to one of the intel-
lectually rich ways in which this search for Latin American identity was car-
ried out. Yet, in spite of Alberdi’s reflections on the character of Latin Amer-
ican philosophy, it was not until the fifth decade of the twentieth century
that the problem of the philosophical identity of Latin America was explic-
itly formulated and fully explored. The decade of the 1940s was a period in
which intellectuals looked back on Latin American culture and attempted to
use it as the basis for philosophical thinking. A generation of Mexican
authors inspired in Orteguian perspectivism, introduced in Latin America by
the transterrados, or Spanish exiles, and particularly by José Gaos, sug-
226 Part IV: The Search for Identity

gested that the cultural “circumstances” of the continent provided the basis
for the development of an original Latin American philosophy.’ Leopoldo
Zea, the leader of these intellectuals, asserted that any type of philosophical
reflection emerging on the continent could be classified as “Latin American
philosophy” by virtue of the intimate relationship between philosophy and
culture.’ He also suggested that this philosophy had a historical foundation,
owing to the fact that Latin Americans had always, in Zea’s judgment,
thought of their situation from a vitally Latin American perspective.’ Zea
categorically affirms the existence of a Latin American philosophy which
springs from the unique historical circumstances of Latin American social
reality. Following Ortega, Zea has a conception of philosophy as a historical
product, emerging from particular perspectives, but not ending there. As he
claims in the selection included below, “The Actual Function of Philosophy
in Latin America”: “When we attempt to resolve the problems of man in
any spatiotemporal situation whatever, we will necessarily have to start
with ourselves because we are men; we will have to start with our own cir-
cumstances, our limitations, and our being Latin Americans, just as the
Greeks started with their own circumstance called Greece. But, just like
them, we cannot limit ourselves to our own circumstances... . [We] must
also be aware of our capacities as members of the cultural community called
humanity.” The problem that remains is how to bridge the gap between the
particular cultural circumstances from which we begin and the universal
circumstance of humanity toward which we strive.
Zea’s culturalist perspective has won many adherents. His supporters
find in his approach to defining philosophy a way of opening space for
contributions that do not fall under the umbrella of the European and
Anglo-American philosophical traditions and hence tend to remain mar-
ginalized. Abelardo Villegas, Diego Dominguez Caballero, and Guillermo
Francovich are just a few of the philosophers who support Zea’s view.!°
A common criticism of this way of defining philosophy is that it
amounts to a kind of philosophical nationalism, and that moreover, it
leaves out of the group of Latin American philosophers those who work
in logic, theory of action, ethics, and similar traditional, philosophical
fields. A philosopher who does not specifically address the Latin Amer-
ican circumstance is not a true Latin American philosopher. Risieri Fron-
dizi was a leading critic of Zea’s way of conceiving Latin American phi-
losophy. According to Frondizi, philosophy must be distinguished from
cultural nationalism and should be considered independently of geo-
graphical boundaries. One should speak of philosophy in Latin America
rather than of a philosophy of Latin America." Philosophy, as Francisco
Romero pointed out, has no last names, that is, it must be understood as
a discipline with universal characteristics.!2
Even Vasconcelos, whose work exerted a strong influence on Zea,
 Introduction DH

while sympathetic to a culturalist perspective, adopted a universalist posi-

tion when discussing the nature of philosophical activity. Vasconcelos
went so far as to deny explicitly the existence of a peculiarly Latin Amer-
ican philosophy on the grounds that the discipline was universal in char-
acter, although he conceded that it was the prerogative of each culture to
reconsider the great themes of universal philosophy. Philosophical nation-
alism had no place in his thought.!3
The polemic that suddenly surrounded the question of the existence
of a Latin American philosophy in the 1940s had the effect, in many cases,
of undermining the focus on identity in general that had characterized
Latin American philosophical thought prior to the dispute, and which in
many respects had prompted it. The controversy set a precedent for dis-
cussions of culture that became increasingly separated from the actual
analysis of cultural phenomena. The culturalists themselves, who based
their conception of a Latin American philosophy on a cultural perspective,
have left few detailed accounts of the continent’s cultural ethos, and fre-
quently refer to culture in very general terms.
The controversy continued to grow and attracted much attention among
members of practically every philosophical tradition, with the exception of
philosophical analysis. Existentialists, phenomenologists, Thomists, Kan-
tians, Orteguians, etc., all felt compelled to explore this issue. But since
none of the different interpretations of the cultural identity of the continent
has become widely accepted, it became impossible in turn to establish a
consensus on the notion of Latin American philosophy. This is the reason
why during the 1960s a number of authors re-addressed this problem,
although this time not in terms of universalism and culturalism. It was at
this time that the critical position took shape. Augusto Salazar Bondy, for
example, argued for the view that philosophy in Latin America is the
province of intellectual elites. These elites borrowed European cultural
forms uncritically, and they lacked an identifiable and rigorous method and
awareness of other social groups. Viewed in this light, the problems of cul-
ture and philosophy have been the problems of only a small minority of
intellectuals alienated from the rest of society, and from the economic,
social, and political problems of the continent.!4 This position, which has
also been shared by Juan Rivano and others, suggests that the history of the
controversy concerning the existence and nature of Latin American philos-
ophy epitomizes the lack of concern with the most urgent problems of their
respective communities on the part of the region’s intellectuals.!5
It is in this context that the (so-called) philosophy of liberation
appears. For philosophers like Enrique Dussel, Horacio Cerutti Guldbeg,
and Arturo Andrés Roig, the fundamental task of philosophy in Latin
America consists in the social and national liberation from the unjust rela-
tions such as that of dominater-dominated which have traditionally char-
228 Part IV: The Search for Identity

acterized it. For Roig in particular, this implies the integration of the Latin
American peoples based on the consciousness of the historicity of the
American “man” and of the history of philosophy in Latin America. He
rejects the formalism and ontologism characteristic of traditional acad-
emic philosophy, favoring instead a philosophy of commitment that seeks
integrating concepts in Latin America. This area of philosophy is rooted in
the political discourse of the marginal and exploited segments of society,
and given the enduring political and economic instability that plagues the
countries of Latin America, liberation philosophy continues to be of great
social relevance.
In spite of the strong disagreement voiced by the various authors dis-
cussed and in the works included below, most of them would agree that
philosophy has historically provided one of the most important vehicles
for the expression of cultural concerns in Latin American society. Not
always listened to, and at times suppressed by regimes of the Right or the
Left, philosophy in many ways reflects the very situation of Latin Amer-
ican society today. And given that the region does not enjoy the stability
of its Northern neighbor, its philosophy will continue to reflect the general
turmoil of the region, a place where the caudillo is not a ghost of the past,
where tanks still roll onto the streets when problems become too threat-
ening, and, in short, a place where the philosophers have no ivory tower
in which they can hide from the distractions of the world.

NOTES
1. Risieri Frondizi, “Is There an Ibero-American Philosophy?” Philosophy
and Phenomenlogical Research 9 (March 1949): 355. See also a slightly different
use of the expression in Fernando Salmeron, “Los problemas de la cultura mexi-
cana desde el punto de vista de la filosofia,” in Cuestiones educativas y pdginas
sobre Mexico, p. 137; originally published in La palabra y el hombre 6 (1958).
2. José Ortega y Gasset, El hombre y la gente, chap. 13, in Obras completas,
Spl).
3. See Samuel Ramos, Historia de la filosofia mexicana (Mexico City:
Imprenta Universitaria, 1943), p. 149.
4. One of the most useful bibliographical tools for the study of Latin Amer-
ican philosophy is the Handbook of Latin American Studies, which has been pub-
lishing a section on philosophy since 1939, The Web site maintained by José Luis
Gomez-Martinez, Repertorio Americano, is also an excellent resource, with contri-
butions from leading scholars on major Latin American philosophers. Gémez-
Martinez’s Anuario Bibliogrdfico de Historia del Pensamiento Ibero e Iberoameri-
cano (published in five volumes, 1989-1993) is also a good resource.
5. A prolific writer and one of the outstanding members of the generation of
Argentinean intellectuals who criticized the regime of Juan Manuel de Rosas,
 Introduction 229

Alberdi spent many years in exile in Uruguay, Chile, and Europe. The piece of
writing that most specifically addresses our subject of concerns here is “Ideas para
presidir la confeccién del curso de filosofia contempordnea,” in Escritos péstumos
de Juan Bautista Alberdi, vol. 15 (Buenos Aires: Imprenta Europea, Moreno y
Defensa, 1895-1901). This essay was originally published in 1842.
6. Alberdi, “Ideas,” p. 613.
7. José Gaos, En torno a la filosofia mexicana (Mexico City: Porrtia y
Obregon, 1952), 53-54, 88. An excellent study of the impact and importance of the
Spanish contributions to Latin American philosophy is provided by José Luis
Abellan’s Filosofia espanola en América (Madrid: Ediciones Guadarrama, 1967)
and José Luis Abellan and Antonio Monclts, eds., El pensamiento espanol con-
tempordneo y la idea de América, especially vol. 2, El pensamiento en el exilio
(Barcelona: Anthropos, 1983).
8. Zea, Ensayos, p. 166.
9. Ibid., p. 201.
10. Abelardo Villegas, Panorama de la filosofia iberoamericana actual
(Buenos Aires: Editorial Universitaria de Buenos Aires, 1963); Diego Dominguez
Caballero, “Motivo y sentido de una investigacidn de lo panameno,” in Zea,
Antologia, 157-69; Guillermo Francovich, El pensamiento boliviano en el siglo 20
(Mexico City: Fondo de Cultura Econémica, 1956), and “Pachamama,” in Zea,
Antologia, pp. 79-87.
11. Frondizi, “Hay una filosofia iberoamericana?” p. 166.
12. Ibid., p. 167.
13. Vasconcelos, Indologia: Una interpretacion de la cultura iberoamericana
(Paris: Agencia Mundial de Libreria, 1926), pp. 109-10.
14. Augusto Salazar Bondy, Existe una filosofia de nuestra América? (Mexico
City: Siglo XXI, 1968), sec. 8, “Una interpretaci6n.”
15. Juan Rivano was born in Santiago, Chile, in 1926 and taught philosophy
at the University of Chile until the Chilean military regime imprisoned him in 1975
and forced him into exile in 1976. Trained in logic, he has written mostly on the
subjects of theory of knowledge and philosophy of science. Rivano addressed the
problem of Latin American philosophy in his El punto de vista de la miseria (San-
tiago: Facultad de Filosofia y Educacion, Universidad de Chile, 1965), pp. 145-72.
Some of his publications include Entre Hegel y Marx: Una meditacion ante los
nuevos horizontes del humanismo (1962), Logica elemental (1970), and Introduc-
cidn al pensamiento dialéctico (1972).
Me

/ /
 (aN
The Nation
and the People
 A
ToOnDA al)
sions st brn
Domingo Faustino Sarmiento
(1811-1888)

A: outstanding public intellectual from Argentina, Domingo Faustino

Sarmiento was born in 1811 in the western town of San Juan de la
Frontera. Owing to the political upheavals that plagued his native country,
Sarmiento spent much of his life in exile in Chile. He was a fierce critic of
Manuel de Rosas, the military dictator who ruled Argentina from 1815 to
1852. Indeed, his resistance to this dictatorship and his dedication to
improving education in Argentina shaped his intellectual project.
Sarmiento came of intellectual age during the period of positivism
(1850-1910). This period immediately followed independence. Positivism
was in part a response to the social, financial, and political needs of the
newly liberated countries of Latin America. Other leading figures of the
time included Juan Bautista Alberdi (Argentina, 1812-1884) and Andrés
Bello (Venezuela, 1791-1865). These thinkers shared the belief that expe-
rience was more important than theoretical speculation and a primary
interest in issues of social justice, educational reform, and progress.
Sarmiento’s life was greatly disrupted by the military rule of Rosas, as
he was forced into exile time and again for his opposition to this dictator-
ship. In 1839 he returned to Argentina and opened the College of Santa
Rosa in San Juan. He also became the editor of El Zonda, and the polit-
ical nature of an article he published there landed him in jail and eventu-
ally back in Chile for another period of exile. In 1941, while in Chile, he
began writing for El Mercurio, thus maintaining ties with the literary and
journalistic world of the period. During this period he developed a deep
and lasting friendship with Manuel Montt who became president of Chile
in 1852. In 1843 Sarmiento became a faculty member of the newly opened
Universidad de Chile. He traveled to the United States and Europe during
1845-47 to undertake a comparative study of educational systems.

233
234 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

In 1852 Rosas was finally thrown out of office, and in 1855 Sarmiento
returned to Argentina, serving as Minister to the United States in 1865.
Sarmiento became president of Argentina in 1868.
The selections included here come from Facundo, or Civilization and
Barbarism (1845), which was ostensibly a biography of Juan Facundo
Quiroga, a provincial dictator, but in fact is a study of the destructive influ-
ence of dictatorship in civilized life in Argentina. Sarmiento is particularly
interested in the role that gauchos, uneducated men of the pampas, play
in the traditions of dictatorships in Argentina. He equates the gauchos and
the entire interior of the country with the barbaric elements that are
responsible for undermining the progressive, liberal, civilized plans of
those from the cities. According to Sarmiento, the gaucho develops only
his physical skills, while all intellectual powers are neglected, hence the
horse and the knife become central to his life. Indeed Sarmiento believes
that dictators like Rosas or Facundo brought the laws of the cattle ranch
into the government of the republic and thus moved the country away
from civilization.
Civilization and Barbarism

PHYSICAL ASPECT OF THE ARGENTINE REPUBLIC, AND

THE FORMS OF CHARACTER, HABITS, AND IDEAS
INDUCED BY IT

ccr |‘N
he extent of the Pampas is so prodigious that they are bounded
on the north by groves of palm-trees and on the south by
eternal snows.” —Head.

The continent of America ends at the south in a point, with the Strait of
Magellan at its southern extremity. Upon the west, the Chilean Andes run
parallel to the coast at a short distance from the Pacific. Between that
range of mountains and the Atlantic is a country whose boundary follows
the River Plata up the course of the Uruguay into the interior, which was
formerly known as the United Provinces of the River Plata, but where
blood is still shed to determine whether its name shall be the Argentine
Republic or the Argentine Confederation. On the north lie Paraguay, the
Gran Chaco, and Bolivia, its assumed boundaries.
The vast tract which occupies its extremities is altogether uninhab-
ited, and possesses navigable rivers as yet unfurrowed even by a frail
canoe. Its own extent is the evil from which the Argentine Republic suf-
fers; the desert encompasses it on every side and penetrates its very heart;
wastes containing no human dwelling are, generally speaking, the unmis-
takable boundaries between its several provinces. Immensity is the uni-
versal characteristic of the country: the plains, the woods, the rivers, are
From Civilization and Barbarism, chapter 1, “Physical Contents of the Argentine Republic,
and the Forms of Character, Habits, and Ideas Induced by It,” trans. Mary Mann (New York:
Hafner Press, 1868), pp. 1-6, 9-10, 13, 20-23.

Zo2
236 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

all immense; and the horizon is always undefined, always lost in haze and
delicate vapors which forbid the eye to mark the point in the distant per-
spective, where the land ends and the sky begins. On the south and on the
north are savages ever on the watch, who take advantage of the moonlight
nights to fall like packs of hyenas upon the herds in their pastures, and
upon the defenseless settlements When the solitary caravan of wagons, as
it sluggishly traverses the pampas, halts for a short period of rest, the men
in charge of it, grouped around their scanty fire, turn their eyes mechani-
cally toward the south upon the faintest whisper of the wind among the
dry grass, and gaze into the deep darkness of the night, in search of the
sinister visages of the savage horde, which, at any moment, approaching
unperceived, may surprise them. If no sound reaches their ears, if their
sight fails to pierce the gloomy veil which covers the silent wilderness,
they direct their eyes, before entirely dismissing their apprehensions, to
the ears of any horse standing within the firelight, to see if they are
pricked up or turned carelessly backward. Then they resume their inter-
rupted conversation, or put into their mouths the half-scorched pieces of
dried beef on which they subsist. When not fearful of the approach of the
savage, the plainsman has equal cause to dread the keen eyes of the tiger,
or the viper beneath his feet. This constant insecurity of life outside the
towns, in my opinion, stamps upon the Argentine character a certain sto-
ical resignation to death by violence, which is regarded as one of the
inevitable probabilities of existence. Perhaps this is the reason why they
inflict death or submit to it with so much indifference, and why such
events make no deep or lasting impression upon the survivors.
The inhabited portion of this country—a country unusually favored
by nature, and embracing all varieties of climates—may be divided into
three sections possessing distinct characteristics, which cause differences
of character among the inhabitants, growing out of the necessity of their
adapting themselves to the physical conditions which surround them.
In the north, an extensive forest, reaching to the Chaco, covers with
its impenetrable mass of boughs a space whose extent would seem incred-
ible if there could be any marvel too great for the colossal types of Nature
in America.
In the central zone, lying parallel to the former, the plain and the
forest long contend with each other for the possession of the soil; the trees
prevail for some distance, but gradually dwindle into stunted and thorny
bushes, only reappearing in belts of forest along the banks of the streams,
until finally in the south, the victory remains with the plain, which dis-
plays its smooth, velvet-like surface unbounded and unbroken. It is the
image of the sea upon the land; the earth as it appears upon the map—
the earth yet waiting for the command to bring forth every herb yielding
seed after its kind. We may indicate, as a noteworthy feature in the con-
 Domingo Faustino Sarmiento Za

figuration of this country, the aggregation of navigable rivers, which come

together in the east, from all points of the horizon, to form the Plata by
their union, and thus worthily to present their mighty tribute to the
Ocean, which receives it, not without visible marks of disturbance and
respect. But these immense canals, excavated by the careful hand of
Nature, introduce no change into the national customs. The sons of the
Spanish adventurers who colonized the country hate to travel by water,
feeling themselves imprisoned when within the narrow limits of a boat or
a pinnace. When their path is crossed by a great river, they strip them-
selves unconcernedly, prepare their horses for swimming, and plunging
in, make for some island visible in the distance, where horse and
horseman take breath, and by thus continuing their course from isle to
isle, finally effect their crossing.
Thus is the greatest blessing which Providence bestows upon any
people disdained by the Argentine gaucho, who regards it rather as an
obstacle opposed to his movements, than as the most powerful means of
facilitating them; thus the fountain of national growth, the origin of the
early celebrity of Egypt, the cause of Holland’s greatness, and of the rapid
development of North America, the navigation of rivers, or the use of
canals, remains a latent power, unappreciated by the inhabitants of the
banks of the Bermejo, Pilcomayo, Parana, and Paraguay. A few small ves-
sels, manned by Italians and adventurers, sail up stream from the Plata,
but after ascending a few leagues, even this navigation entirely ceases.
The instinct of the sailor, which the Saxon colonists of the north possess
in so high a degree, was not bestowed upon the Spaniard. Another spirit
is needed to stir these arteries in which a nation’s life-blood now lies stag-
nant. Of all these rivers which should bear civilization, power, and wealth,
to the most hidden recesses of the continent, and make of Santa Fé, Entre
Rios, Corrientes, Cordova, Saltas, Tucuman, and Jujui, rich and populous
states, the Plata alone, which at last unites them all, bestows its benefits
upon the inhabitants of its banks. At its mouth stand two cities, Montev-
ideo and Buenos Ayres, which at present reap alternately the advantages
of their enviable position. Buenos Ayres is destined to be some day the
most gigantic city of either America. Under a benignant climate, mistress
of the navigation of a hundred rivers flowing past her feet, covering a vast
area, and surrounded by inland provinces which know no other outlet for
their products, she would ere now have become the Babylon of America,
if the spirit of the Pampas had not breathed upon her, and left undevel-
oped the rich offerings which the rivers and provinces should unceasingly
bring. She is the only city in the vast Argentine territory which is in com-
munication with European nations; she alone can avail herself of the
advantages of foreign commerce; she alone has power and revenue. Vainly
have the provinces asked to receive through her, civilization, industry, and
238 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

European population; a senseless colonial policy made her deaf to these

cries. But the provinces had their revenge when they sent to her in Rosas
the climax of their own barbarism.
Heavily enough have those who uttered it, paid for the saying, “The
Argentine Republic ends at the Arroyo del Medio.” It now reaches from
the Andes to the sea, while barbarism and violence have sunk Buenos
Ayres below the level of the provinces. We ought not to complain of
Buenos Ayres that she is great and will be greater, for this is her destiny.
This would be to complain of Providence and call upon it to alter physical
outlines. This being impossible, let us accept as well done what has been
done by the Master’s hand. Let us rather blame the ignorance of that
brutal power which makes the gifts lavished by Nature upon an erring
people of no avail for itself or for the provinces. Buenos Ayres, instead of
sending to the interior, light, wealth, and prosperity, sends only chains,
exterminating hordes, and petty subaltern tyrants. She, too, takes her
revenge for the evil inflicted upon her by the provinces when they pre-
pared for her a Rosas! ...
From these characteristics arises in the life of the Argentine people the
reign of brute force, the supremacy of the strongest, the absolute and irre-
sponsible authority of rulers, the administration of justice without for-
malities or discussion. The caravan of wagons is provided, moreover, with
one or two guns to each wagon, and sometimes the leading one has a
small piece of artillery on a swivel. If the train is attacked by the savages,
the wagons are tied together in a ring, and a successful resistance is
almost always opposed to the blood-thirsty and rapacious plunder of the
assailants. Defenseless droves of pack-mules often fall into the hands of
these American Bedouins, and muleteers rarely escape with their lives. In
these long journeys, the lower classes of the Argentine population acquire
the habit of living far from society, of struggling single-handed with
nature, of disregarding privation, and of depending for protection against
the dangers ever imminent upon no other resources than personal
strength and skill.
The people who inhabit these extensive districts belong to two dif-
ferent races, the Spanish and the native; the combinations of which form
a series of imperceptible gradations. The pure Spanish race predominates
in the rural districts of Cordova and San Luis, where it is common to meet
young shepherdesses fair and rosy, and as beautiful as the belles of a cap-
ital could wish to be. In Santiago del Estero, the bulk of the rural popula-
tion still speaks the Quichua dialect, which plainly shows its Indian origin.
The country people of Corrientes use a very pretty Spanish dialect.
“Dame, general, una chiripa,” said his soldiers to Lavalle. The Andalusian
soldier may still be recognized in the rural districts of Buenos Ayres; and
in the city foreign surnames are the most numerous. The Negro race, by
 Domingo Faustino Sarmiento pie)

this time nearly extinct (except in Buenos Ayres), has left, in its zambos
and mulattoes, a link which connects civilized man with the denizen of
the woods. This race mostly inhabiting cities, has a tendency to become
civilized, and possesses talent and the finest instincts of progress. .. .
The Argentine cities, like almost all the cities of South America, have
an appearance of regularity. Their streets are laid out at right angles, and
their population scattered over a wide surface, except in Cordova, which
occupies a narrow and confined position, and presents all the appearance
of a European city, the resemblance being increased by the multitude of
towers and domes attached to its numerous and magnificent churches. All
civilization, whether native, Spanish, or European, centers in the cities,
where are to be found the manufactories, the shops, the schools and col-
leges, and other characteristics of civilized nations. Elegance of style, arti-
cles of luxury, dress-coats, and frock-coats, with other European gar-
ments, occupy their appropriate place in these towns. I mention these
small matters designedly. It is sometimes the case that the only city of a
pastoral province is its capital, and occasionally the land is uncultivated
up to its very streets. The encircling desert besets such cities at a greater
or less distance, and bears heavily upon them, and they are thus small
oases of civilization surrounded by an untilled plain, hundreds of square
miles in extent, the surface of which is but rarely interrupted by any set-
tlement of consequence. ...
In the absence of all the means of civilization and progress, which can
only be developed among men collected into societies of many individ-
uals, the educationof the country people is as follows: The women look
after the house, get the meals ready, shear the sheep, milk the cows, make
the cheese, and weave the coarse cloth used for garments. All domestic
occupations are performed by women; on them rests the burden of all the
labor, and it is an exceptional favor when some of the men undertake the
cultivation of a little maize, bread not being in use as an ordinary article
of diet. The boys exercise their strength and amuse themselves by gaining
skill in the use of the lasso and the bolas, with which they constantly
harass and pursue the calves and goats. When they can ride, which is as
soon as they have learned to walk, they perform some small services on
horseback. When they become stronger, they race over the country, falling
off their horses and getting up again, tumbling on purpose into rabbit bur-
rows, scrambling over precipices, and practicing feats of horsemanship.
On reaching puberty, they take to breaking wild colts, and death is the
least penalty that awaits them if their strength or courage fails them for a
moment. With early manhood comes complete independence and idle-
ness.
Now begins the public life of the gaucho, as I may say, since his edu-
cation is by this time at an end. These men, Spaniards only in their lan-
240 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

guage and in the confused religious notions preserved among them, must
be seen, before a right estimate can be made of the indomitable and
haughty character which grows out of this struggle of isolated man with
untamed nature, of the rational being with the brute. It is necessary to see
their visages bristling with beards, their countenances as grave and
serious as those of the Arabs of Asia, to appreciate the pitying scorn with
which they look upon the sedentary denizen of the city, who may have
read many books, but who cannot overthrow and slay a fierce bull, who
could not provide himself with a horse from the pampas, who has never
met a tiger alone, and received him with a dagger in one hand and a
poncho rolled up in the other, to be thrust into the animal’s mouth, while
he transfixes his heart with his dagger.
This habit of triumphing over resistance, of constantly showing a
superiority to Nature, of defying and subduing her, prodigiously develops
the consciousness of individual consequence and superior prowess. The
Argentine people of every class, civilized and ignorant alike, have a high
opinion of their national importance. All the other people of South
America throw this vanity of theirs in their teeth, and take offense at their
presumption and arrogance. I believe the charge not to be wholly
unfounded, but I do not object to the trait. Alas, for the nation without
faith in itself! Great things were not made for such a people. To what
extent may not the independence of that part of America be due to the
arrogance of these Argentine gauchos, who have never seen anything
beneath the sun superior to themselves in wisdom or in power. The Euro-
pean is in their eyes the most contemptible of all men, for a horse gets the
better of him in a couple of plunges.
If the origin of this national vanity among the lower classes is despi-
cable, it has none the less on that account some noble results; as the water
of a river is no less pure for the mire and pollution of its sources.
Implacable is the hatred which these people feel for men of refinement,
whose garments, manners, and customs they regard with invincible
repugnance. Such is the material of the Argentine soldiery, and it may
easily be imagined what valor and endurance in war are the consequences
of the habits described above. We may add that these soldiers have been
used to slaughtering cattle from their childhood, and that this act of nec-
essary cruelty makes them familiar with bloodshed, and hardens their
hearts against the groans of their victims.
Country life, then, has developed all the physical but none of the intel-
lectual powers of the gaucho. His moral character is of the quality to be
expected from his habit of triumphing over the obstacles and the forces of
nature; it is strong, haughty, and energetic. Without instruction, and
indeed without need of any, without means of support as without wants,
he is happy in the midst of his poverty and privations, which are not such
 Domingo Faustino Sarmiento 241

to one who never knew nor wished for greater pleasures than are his
already. Thus if the disorganization of society among the gauchos deeply
implants barbarism in their natures, through the impossibility and use-
lessness of moral and intellectual education, it has, too, its attractive side
to him. The gaucho does not labor; he finds his food and raiment ready
to his hand. If he is a proprietor, his own flocks yield him both; if he pos-
sesses nothing himself, he finds them in the house of a patron or a rela-
tion. The necessary care of the herds is reduced to excursions and plea-
sure parties; the branding, which is like the harvesting of farmers, is a fes-
tival, the arrival of which is received with transports of joy, being the
occasion of the assembling of all the men for twenty leagues around, and
the opportunity for displaying incredible skill with the lasso. The gaucho
arrives at the spot on his best steed, riding at a slow and measured pace;
he halts at a little distance and puts his leg over his horse’s neck to enjoy
the sight leisurely. If enthusiasm seizes him, he slowly dismounts, uncoils
his lasso, and flings it at some bull, passing like a flash of lightning forty
paces from him; he catches him by one hoof, as he intended, and quietly
coils his leather cord again.
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José Marti
(1853-1895)

Be: in Havana in 1853, José Martt’s short life was devoted to ending
Spanish colonial rule in Cuba. He was a great statesman, poet, and
journalist, exerting great influence upon the intellectual landscape of Latin
America.
In 1870, at the age of seventeen, he was jailed for his anticolonial
political activity. His treatment in jail was brutal, leaving him in such a
weak condition that he suffered health problems for the rest of his life. In
1871 he was deported to Spain, where he began to study law at the Uni-
versidad Central of Madrid. He finished his studies in law and philosophy
at the University of Zaragoza in 1874. Marti then traveled throughout
France and journeyed to Mexico in 1875, where he became active in the
Worker’s Movement. He spent some time in Guatemala from 1877 to 1878,
where he was a professor of philosophy at the university. He returned to
Cuba in 1878, yet after delivering a series of political speeches was
promptly deported again to Spain.
His time in Mexico and Guatemala established his presence in those
regions of Latin America. His long and significant stays in the United
States began in 1880 when he arrived in New York City. He left just
months later for Venezuela, where he founded the Revista Venezolana. In
1881 he returned to New York City, where he remained until 1895, writing
and organizing independence efforts.
His first major publication came in 1882 with his Isrnaelillo, a collec-
tion of poetry. In 1882 he also wrote Versos libres. During this time, he was
actively involved with several newspapers, magazines, and journals in the
United States and Latin America. Marti became known as a keen and
informed observer of U.S. society—documenting both the strengths and
weaknesses of the country and its culture. He was an important diplomat,

243
244 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

the consul general in the United States representing Uruguay, Paraguay,

and Argentina.
In 1891 Marti resigned from all of his diplomatic posts in order to
devote himself full time to the cause of Cuban independence. In the same
year, he published Versos sencillos and the essay Nuestra América. In 1892
Martf established the Cuban Revolutionary Party and the newspaper
Patria, founded to further the cause of the revolution. In the next few
years, Marti, who was not only a brilliant writer but also an engaging and
passionate orator, traveled widely throughout the United States and the
Caribbean speaking on behalf of the cause of Cuban independence. In
1895, after decades devoted to the organization that led to the Cuban war
of independence, Marti returned to Cuba to join the fight, falling in one of
the first battles of the war, the Battle of Dos Rios, on May 19, 1895.
Nuestra América has been heralded by generations of Latin Americans
as a mirror, both beautiful and accurate, of the Latin American circum-
stance. Given Marti’s engaged struggle for independence, it should not
come as a surprise that the great liberators of Latin America are chroni-
cled in his work. A tribute to Siméon Bolivar was delivered as an address
to the Hispanic-American Literary Society in October 1893. Marti’s con-
cern for the freedom of Cuba came with a concern for freeing the island
of any traces of racism as well—he insisted that a free Cuba be a just Cuba
and that all races be treated equally. Indeed, Marti saw the struggle for
independence as a necessary condition for the freedom of those groups
traditionally oppressed under Spanish rule. He believed that the future
must be free of racism, for “whoever foments and spreads antagonism and
hate between the races, sins against humanity.” For this reason, his short
piece My Race (1893) is especially relevant for coming to an under-
standing of his social vision. Given recent interest in the problem of race
and its philosophical significance, we are reminded that we still have
much to learn from this great humanist.
Our America

he conceited villager believes the entire world to be his village. Pro-

vided that he can be mayor, or humiliate the rival who stole his
sweetheart, or add to the savings in his strongbox, he considers the uni-
versal order good, unaware of those giants with seven-league boots who
can crush him underfoot, or of the strife in the heavens between comets
that streak through the drowsy air-devouring worlds. What remains of the
village in America must rouse itself. These are not the times for sleeping
in a nightcap, but with weapons for a pillow, like the warriors of Juan de
Castellanos—weapons of the mind, which conquer all others. Barricades
of ideas are worth more than barricades of stone.
There is no prow that can cut through a cloudbank of ideas. A powerful
idea, waved before the world at the proper time, can stop a squadron of
iron-clad ships, like the mystical flag of the Last Judgment. Nations that do
not know one another should quickly become acquainted, as men who are
to fight a common enemy. Those who shake their fists, like jealous brothers
coveting the same tract of land, or like the modest cottager who envies the
squire his mansion, should clasp hands and become one. Those who use
the authority of a criminal tradition to lop off the lands of their defeated
brother with a sword stained with his own blood, ought to return the lands
to the brother already punished sufficiently, if they do not want the people
to call them robbers. The honest man does not absolve himself of debts of
honor with money, at so much a slap. We can no longer be a people of
leaves living in the air, our foliage heavy with blooms and crackling or hum-

From Our America by José Marti: Writings on Latin America and the Struggle for Cuban Inde-
pendence, trans. Elinor Randall and ed., with an introduction and notes, Philip S. Foner (New
York: Monthly Review Press, 1977), pp. 84-94. Copyright © 1977 by MR Press. Reprinted by
permission of Monthly Review Foundation.

245
246 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

ming at the whim of the sun’s caress, or buffeted and tossed by the storms.
The trees must form ranks to keep the giant with seven-league boots from
passing! It is the time of mobilization, of marching together, and we must
go forward in close order, like silver in the veins of the Andes.

Only those born prematurely are lacking inourage] Those without faith
in their country are seven-month weaklings. Because they have no
courage, they deny it to others. Their puny arms—arms with bracelets and
hands with painted nails, arms of Paris or Madrid—can hardly reach the
bottom limb, and they claim the tall tree to be unclimbable. The ships
should be loaded with those harmful insects that gnaw at the bone of the
country that nourishes them. If they are Parisians or from Madrid, let them
go to the Prado under lamplight, or to Tortoni’s for a sherbet. Those car-
penters’ sons who are ashamed that their fathers are carpenters! Those
born in America who are ashamed of the mother who reared them,
because she wears an Indian apron, and who disown their sick mother,
the scoundrels, abandoning her on her sickbed! Then who is a real man?
He who stays with his mother and nurses her in her illness, or he who
puts her to work out of sight, and lives at her expense on decadent lands,
sporting fancy neckties, cursing the womb that carried him, displaying the
sign of the traitor on the back of his paper frockcoat? These sons of Our
America, which will be saved by its Indians and is growing better; these
deserters who take up arms in the armies of a North America that drowns
its Indians in blood and is growing worse! These delicate creatures who
are men but are unwilling to do men’s work! The Washington who made
this land for them, did he not go to live with the English, to live with the
English at a time when he saw them fighting against his own country?
These “iconoclasts” of honor who drag that honor over foreign soil, like
their counterparts in the French Revolution with their dancing, their affec-
tations, their drawling speech!
For in what lands can men take more pride than in our long-suffering
American republics, raised up from among the silent Indian masses by the
bleeding arms of a hundred apostles, to the sounds of battle between the
book and the processional candle? Never in history have such advanced
and united nations been forged in so short a time from such disorganized
elements.
The presumptuous man feels that the earth was made to serve as his
pedestal because he happens to have a facile pen or colorful speech, and
he accuses his native land of being worthless and beyond redemption
because its virgin jungles fail to provide him with a constant means of
traveling over the world, driving Persian ponies and lavishing champagne
like a tycoon. The incapacity does not lie with the emerging country in
quest of suitable forms and a utilitarian greatness; it lies rather with those
 José Martt 247

who attempt to rule nations of a unique and violent character by means

of laws inherited from four centuries of freedom in the United States and
nineteen centuries of monarchy in France. A decree by Hamilton does not
halt the charge of the plainsman’s horse. A phrase by Sieyés does nothing
to quicken the stagnant blood of the Indian race. To govern well, one must
see things as they are. And the able governor in America is hot the one
who knows how to govern the Germans or the French; he must know the
elements that compose his own country, and how to bring them together,
using methods and institutions originating within the country, to reach
that desirable state where each man can attain self-realization and all may
enjoy the abundance that Nature has bestowed on everyone in the nation
to enrich with their toil and defend with their lives. The government must
originate in the country. The spirit of the government must be that of the
country. Its structure must conform to rules appropriate to the country.
Good government is nothing more than the balance of the country’s nat-
ural elements.
That is why the imported book has been conquered in America by the
natural man. Natural men have conquered learned and artificial men. The
native half-breed has conquered the exotic Creole. The struggle is not
between civilization and barbarity, but between false erudition and
Nature. The natural man is good, and he respects and rewards superior
intelligence as long as his humility is not turned against him, or he is not
offended by being disregarded—a thing the natural man never forgives,
prepared as he is to forcibly regain the respect of whoever has wounded
his pride or threatened his interests. It is by conforming with these dis-
dained native elements that the tyrants of America have climbed to power,
and have fallen as soon as they betrayed them. Republics have paid with
oppression for their inability to recognize the true elements of their coun-
tries, to derive from them the right kind of government, and to govern
accordingly. In a new nation a governor means a creator.
In nations composed of both cultured and uncultured elements, the
uncultured will govern because it is their habit to attack and resolve
doubts with their fists in cases where the cultured have failed in the art of
governing. The uncultured masses are lazy and timid in the realm of intel-
ligence, and they want to be governed well. But if the government hurts
them, they shake it off and govern themselves. How can the universities
produce governors if not a single university in America teaches the rudi-
ments of the art of government, the analysis of elements peculiar to the
peoples of America? The young go out into the world wearing Yankee or
French spectacles, hoping to govern a people they do not know. In the
political race entrance should be denied to those who are ignorant of the
rudiments of politics. The prize in literary contests should not go for the
best ode, but for the best study of the political factors of one’s country.
248 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

Newspapers, universities, and schools should encourage the study of the

country’s pertinent components. To know them is sufficient, without
mincing words; for whoever brushes aside even a part of the truth,
whether through intention or oversight, is doomed to fall. The truth he
lacks thrives on negligence, and brings down whatever is built without it.
It is easier to resolve our problem knowing its components than to resolve
it without knowing them. Along comes the natural man, strong and indig-
nant, and he topples all the justice accumulated from books because he
has not been governed in accordance with the obvious needs of the
country. Knowing is what counts. To know one’s countr y it
and govern
with that knowled ge
is the only to
way freeit from tyranny. The European
university must bow to the American university. The history of America,
from the Incas to the present, must be taught in clear detail and to the
letter, even if the archons of Greece are overlooked. Our Greece must take
priority over the Greece which is not ours. We need it more. Nationalist
statesmen must replace foreign statesmen. Let the world be grafted onto
our republics, but the trunk must be our own. And let the vanquished
pedant hold his tongue, for there are no lands in which a man may take
greater pride than in our long-suffering American republics.

With the rosary as our guide, our heads white and our bodies mottled,
both Indian and Creole, we fearlessly entered the world of nations. We set
out to conquer freedom under the banner of the virgin. A priest, a few
lieutenants, and a woman raised the Republic of Mexico onto the shoul-
ders of the Indians. A few heroic students, instructed in French liberty by
a Spanish cleric, made Central America rise in revolt against Spain under
a Spanish general. In monarchic garb emblazoned with the sun, the
Venezuelans to the north and the Argentinians to the south began building
nations. When the two heroes clashed and the continent was about to
rock, one of them, and not the lesser, handed the reins to the other. And
since heroism in times of peace is rare because it is not as glorious as in
times of war, it is easier for a man to die with honor than to think with
logic. It is easier to govern when feelings are exalted and united than after
a battle, when divisive, arrogant, exotic, or ambitious thinking emerges.
The forces routed in the epic struggle—with the feline cunning of the
species, and using the weight of realities—were undermining the new
structure which comprised both the rough-and-ready, unique regions of
our half-breed America and the silk-stockinged and frock-coated people of
Paris beneath the flag of freedom and reason borrowed from nations
skilled in the arts of government. The hierarchical constitution of the
colonies resisted the democratic organization of the republics. The cra-
vated capitals left their country boots in the vestibule. The bookworm
redeemers failed to realize that the revolution succeeded because it came
 José Martt 249

from the soul of the nation; they had to govern with that soul and not
without it or against it. America began to suffer, and still suffers, from the
tiresome task of reconciling the hostile and discordant elements it inher-
ited from_a_despotic and perverse colonizer, and the imported methods
and ideas which have been retarding logical government because they are
lacking iin local realities. Thrown out of gear for three centuries by a power
which denied men the right to use their reason, the continent disregarded
or closed its ears to the unlettered throngs that helped bring it to redemp-
tion, and embarked on a government based on reason—a reason
belonging to all for the common good, not the university brand of reason
over the peasant brand. The problem of independence did not lie in a
change of forms but in a change of spirit.
It was imperative to make common cause with the oppressed, in order
to secure a new system opposed to the ambitions and governing habits of
the oppressors. The tiger, frightened by gunfire, returns at night to his
prey. He dies with his eyes shooting flames and his claws unsheathed. He
cannot be heard coming because he approaches with velvet tread. When
the prey awakens, the tiger is already upon it. The colony lives on in the
republic, and Our America is saving itself from its enormous mistakes—
the pride of its capital cities, the blind triumph of a scorned peasantry, the
excessive influx of foreign ideas and formulas, the wicked and unpolitic
disdain for the aboriginal race—because of the higher virtue, enriched
with necessary blood, or a republic struggling against a colony. The tiger
lurks behind every tree, lying in wait at every turn. He will die with his
claws unsheathed and his eyes shooting flames.

But “these countries will be saved,” as was announced by the Argentinian

Rivadavia, whose only sin was being a gentleman in these rough-and-
ready times. A man does not sheathe a machete in a silken scabbard, nor
can he lay aside the short lance in a country won with the short lance
merely because he is angered and stands at the door of Iturbide’s Con-
gress, “demanding that the fair-haired one be named Emperor.” These
countries will be saved because a genius for moderation, found in the |
serene harmony of Nature, seems to prevail on the continent of light, \1
where there emerges a new realistic man schooled for these realistic times {
\

in the critical philosophy which in Europe has replaced the philosophy of

a) \
guesswork and phalanstery that saturated the previous generation.
We were a phenomenon with the chest of an athlete, the hands of a
dandy, and the brain of a child. We were a |masquerader/ in English
breeches, Parisian vest, North American jacket, and Spanish cap. The
Indian hovered near us in silence, and went off to the hills to baptize his
children. The Negro was seen pouring out the songs of his heart at night,
alone and unrecognized among the rivers and wild animals. The peasant,
250 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

the creator, turned in blind indignation against the disdainful city, against
his own child. As for us, we were nothing but epaulets and professors’
gowns in countries that came into the world wearing hemp sandals and
headbands. It would have been the mark of genius to couple the head-
band and the professors’ gown with the founding fathers’ generosity and
courage, to rescue the Indian, to make a place for the competent Negro,
to fit liberty to the body of those who rebelled and conquered for it. We
were left with the judge, the general, the scholar, and the sinecure. The
angelic young, as if caught in the tentacles of an octopus, lunged heaven-
ward, only to fall back, crowned with clouds, in sterile glory. The native,
driven by instinct, swept away the golden staffs of office in blind triumph.
Neither the European nor the Yankee could provide the key to the Spanish
American riddle. Hate was attempted, and every year the countries
amounted to less. Exhausted by the senseless struggle between the book
and the lance, between reason and the processional candle, between the
city and the country, weary of the impossible rule by rival urban cliques
over the natural nation tempestuous or inert by turns, we begin almost
unconsciously to try love. Nations stand up and greet one another. “What
are we?” is the mutual question, and little by little they furnish answers.
When a problem arises in Cojimar, they do not seek its solution in Danzig.
The frockcoats are still French, but thought begins to be American. The
youth of America are rolling up their sleeves, digging their hands in the
dough, and making it rise with the sweat of their brows. They realize that
there is.{00 much imitation, and that creation holds the key to salvation.
Create? is the password of this generation. The wine is made from plan-
tain, but even if it turns sour, it is our own wine! That a country’s form
of government must be in keeping with its natural elements is a foregone
conclusion. Absolute ideas must take relative forms if they are not to fail
because of an error in form. Freedom, to be viable, has to be sincere and
complete. If a republic refuses to open its arms to all, and move ahead
with all, it dies. The tiger within sneaks in through the crack; so does the
tiger from without. The general holds back his cavalry to a pace that suits
his infantry, for if the infantry is left behind, the cavalry will be sur-
rounded by the enemy. Politics and strategy are one. Nations should live
in an atmosphere of self-criticism because critici sm but always
is healthy,
with one heart and one mind. Stoop to the unhappy, and lift them up in
your arms! Thaw out frozen America with the fire of your hearts! Make
the natural blood of the nations course vigorously through their veins. The
new Americans are on their feet, saluting each other from nation to
nation, the eyes of the laborers shining with joy. The natural statesman
arises, schooled in the direct study of Nature. He reads to apply his knowl-
edge, not to imitate. Economists study the problems at their point of
origin. Speakers begin a policy of moderation. Playwrights bring native
 José Martt 251

characters to the stage. Academies discuss practical subjects. Poetry

shears off its romantic locks and hangs its red vest on the glorious tree.
Selective and sparkling prose is filled with ideas. In the Indian republics,
the governors are learning Indian.

America is escaping all its dangers. Some of the republics are still beneath
the sleeping octopus, but others, under the law of averages, are draining
their lands with a sublime and furious haste, as if to make up for centuries
lost. Still others, forgetting that Juarez went about in a carriage drawn by
mules, hitch their carriages to the wind, their coachmen soap bubbles.
Poisonous luxury, the enemy of freedom, corrupts the frivolous and opens
the door to the foreigner. In others, where independence is threatened, an
epic spirit heightens their manhood. Still others spawn an army capable
of devouring them in voracious wars. But perhaps Our America is running
another risk that does not come from itself but from the difference in ori-
gins, methods, and interests between the two halves of the continent, and
the time is near at hand when an enterprising and vigorous people who
scorn or ignore Our America will even so approach it and demand a close
relationship. And since strong nations, self-made by law and shotgun, love
strong nations, and them alone; since the time of madness and ambition—
from which North America may be freed by the predominance of the
purest elements in its blood, or on which it may be launched by its vin-
dictive and sordid masses, its tradition of expansion, or the ambitions of
some powerful leader—is not so near at hand, even to the most timorous
eye, that there is no time for the test of discreet and unwavering pride that
could confront and dissuade it; since its good name as a republic in the
eyes of the world’s perceptive nations puts upon North America a restraint
that cannot be taken away by childish provocations or pompous arrogance
or parricidal discords among Our American nations—the pressing need of
Our America is to show itself as it is, one in spirit and intent, swift con-
queror of a suffocating past, stained only by the enriching blood drawn
from hands that struggle to clear away the ruins, and from the scars left
upon us by our masters. The scorn of our formidable neighbor who does
not know us is Our America’s greatest danger. And since the day of the
visit is near, it is imperative that our neighbor know us, and soon, so that
it will not scorn us. Through ignorance it might even come to lay hands
on us. Once it does know us, it will remove its hands out of respect. One
must have faith in the best in men and distrust the worst. One must allow
the best to be shown so that it reveals and prevails over the worst. Nations
should have a pillory for whoever stirs up useless hates, and another for
whoever fails to tell them the truth in time.
There can be no racial animosity, because there are no races. The the-
orists and feeble thinkers string together and warm over the bookshelf
252 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

races which the well-disposed observer and the fair-minded traveler

vainly seek in the justice of Nature where man’s universal identity springs
forth from triumphant love and the turbulent hunger for life. The soul,
equal and eternal, emanates from bodies of various shapes and colors.
Whoever foments and spreads antagonism and hate between the races,
sins against humanity. But as nations take shape among other different
nations, there is a condensation of vitaland individual characteristics of
thought and habit, expansion and conquest, vanity and greed which
could—from the latent state of national concern, and in a period of
internal disorder, or the rapidity with which the country’s character has
been accumulating—be turned into a serious threat for the weak and iso-
lated neighboring countries, declared by the strong country to be inferior
and perishable. The thought is father to the deed. And one must not
attribute, through a provincial antipathy, a fatal and inborn wickedness to
the continent’s fair-skinned nation simply because it does not speak our
language, or see the world as we see it, or resemble us in its political
defects, so different from ours, or favorably regard the excitable, dark-
skinned people, or look charitably from its still uncertain eminence upon
those less favored by history, who climb the road of republicanism by
heroic stages. The self-evident facts of the problem should not be
obscured, because the problem can be resolved, for the peace of centuries
to come, by appropriate study, and by tacit and immediate unity_in the
continental spirit. With a single voice the hymn is already being ssung. The
present generation is carrying industrious America along the road
enriched by their sublime fathers; from the Rio Grande to the Straits of
Magellan, the Great Semi, astride his condor, is showing the seed of the
new America throughout the Latin nations of the continent and the sor-
rowful islands of the sea!
My Race

his word “racist” has taken on a confused meaning, and it must be

clarified. A man has no particular rights because he happens to
belong to one particular race; when one says “man,” that should include
all the rights. A Negro is neither inferior nor superior to another because
he is black; the white man carries redundancy too far when he says “my
race,” and so does the Negro when he makes the same statement. Every-
thing that divides men, everything that separates or herds men together in
categories, is a sin against humanity. What sensible white man would
think of taking pride in being white, and what must the Negro think of the
white man who is proud of being white and feels he has special privileges
as a result? What must the white man think of the Negro who takes pride
in his color? Always to dwell on the divisions or differences between the
races, in people who are sufficiently divided already, is to raise barriers to
the attainment of both national and individual well-being, for these two
goals are reached by bringing together as closely as possible the various
components that form the nation. If the Negro is said to have no aborig-
inal guilt or virus that incapacitates him for fully developing his human
soul, it is the truth and must be so stated and shown, because there is
much injustice in this world, and much ignorance that passes for wisdom,
and there are still people who believe quite honestly that the Negro is
incapable of the courage and intelligence of the white man. And if this
defense of Nature is called racism, so be it, because it is only natural and
a voice from the heart crying out for the peace and welfare of his country.

From Our America by José Marti: Writings on Latin America and the Struggle for Cuban Inde-
pendence, trans. Elinor Randall and ed., with an introduction and notes, Philip S. Foner (New
York: Monthly Review Press, 1977), pp. 311-14. Copyright © 1977 by MR Press. Reprinted by
permission of Monthly Review Foundation.

293
254 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

If it is claimed that the state of slavery in itself does not show inferiority
in the enslaved races, since blue-eyed, blond-haired Gauls were sold as
slaves in the Roman marketplace, that is a good form of racism because it
stands for justice and helps to rid the ignorant white man of some of his
prejudices. But a just racism ends with the Negro’s right to maintain and
prove that his color does not deprive him of any of the privileges and
capabilities of the human species.
How can the white racist, who imagines that his race is the more priv-
ileged, complain of the Negro racist who regards his race as superior? And
the Negro racist who looks upon his race as especially endowed, what
right has he to complain of the white racist? The white man, who because
of his race considers himself superior to the Negro, admits the idea of
racial difference and provokes the Negro racist to take a similar stand. The
Negro who proclaims his race, even if it may be his mistaken way of pro-
claiming the spiritual identity of all races, is justifying and provoking the
white racist. Peace demands of Nature the recognition of human rights;
discriminatory rights, which are opposed to Nature, are the enemies of
peace. The white man who isolates himself isolates the Negro. The Negro
who isolates himself provokes the white man to isolation.
In Cuba there is no fear whatever of racial conflict. A man is more
than white, black, or mulatto. A Cuban is more than mulatto, black, or
white. Dying for Cuba on the battlefield, the souls of both Negroes and
white men have risen together. In the daily life of defense, loyalty, broth-
erhood, and shrewdness, there has always been a Negro standing beside
every white man. Negroes as well as white men classify themselves
according to their characteristics: bravery or timidity, selfishness or
unselfishness. Political parties are aggregates of hopes, concerns, interests,
and personal attributes. Essential resemblances in parties are sought and
found beneath the superficial differences; the common purpose is the
fusion of that which is basic in the analogous characters, even if these
may hold differing opinions on incidentals. But all told, the similarities in
men’s natures are the decisive and dominant factors when forming par-
ties, and they outweigh the inner frictions between men of varying color
and the difficulties that at times result. Affinity of character is more pow-
erful than affinity of color. The Negro, consigned to the unequal or hostile
pursuits of the human spirit, could not, nor would he wish to, ally him-
self against the white man in like position. Negroes are too weary of
slavery to voluntarily enter the slavery of color. Conceited and self-seeking
men will go to one side, and generous and unselfish men will go to the
other, regardless of their color. True men, black or white, will treat each
other with loyalty and tenderness for the sake of merit alone, and in the
pride of all that honors the land of their birth. The word “racist” will dis-
appear from the lips of the Negroes who use it today in good faith, once
 José Martt 255

they understand that it is the only apparently valid argument that sincere
but timid men can offer for denying the Negro his full rights as a man.
Negro racists and white racists must share the blame. But many white
men have forgotten their color, and so have many Negroes. The two races
are working together for the improvement of their minds, the propagation
of virtue, and the triumph of creative labor and a spirit of charity.
There will never be a racial war in Cuba. The republic cannot move
backward, and ever since that memorable day when the Negro won his
redemption in Cuba, ever since the drafting of the first constitution of
independence on April 10 in Gudimaro, the republic has not said one word
about Negroes or white men. The civil rights conceded by the Spanish
government for purely political reasons, and put into general practice
before the island’s independence came about, can no longer be denied,
either by the Spaniard, who will as long as he breathes Cuban air continue
dividing the Cuban Negro from the Cuban white man, or by independence
for us, which could not deny in freedom the rights that the Spaniard con-
ceded in slavery.
And as for the rest, each one will be free in the sanctity of his own
household. Merit, the manifest and continuous evidence of culture, and
the constant process of trade will eventually unite all men. There is a plen-
tiful supply of greatness in Cuba, in Negroes and white men alike.

Patria (New York), April 16, 1893

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José Carlos Mariategui
(1894-1930)

Jo Carlos Mariadtegui was born in Moquegua, Peru, in 1894 to a

lower-middle-class family. He was a sickly child, and due to the
increasing poverty of his family was not able to study beyond the primary-
education level. Despite his lack of an extensive formal education, he
demonstrated a great talent for learning, becoming one of Peru’s leading
intellectual and political figures. In an all-too-brief life that spanned only
thirty-five years, he helped to lead his country to a deeper exploration of
art, politics, and Peruvian reality. He was a prolific writer who was deeply
concerned with social justice. Some claim him as the father of Peruvian
communism.
It is remarkable that he achieved all of this in spite of his poverty and
endemic bad health—he was a self-made intellectual. His formation took
place within the world of Peruvian journalism, and in the style of his writ-
ings one observes these journalistic roots. In 1909 he began to work for
the Lima newspaper La Prensa. He started as an errand boy, became a
proofreader, and eventually rose to become a writer for the paper, com-
posing under the pen name Juan Coniquer. In 1914 he began to contribute
to the journal Mundo Limeno, joining important writers of the period such
as Abraham Valdelmoar and César Falcén. This group was more con-
cerned with the literary dimensions of journalism than any political or
social agenda that could be attained therewith.
In the years that followed, Maridtegui continued to write for various
journals and helped to establish a circle of journalists. His activity was not
limited to the press; he also made important contributions to the theater
and to poetry.
In 1918, with the establishment of Nuestra Epoca, a magazine with
clear socialist leanings, Mariategui entered a new phase in his career, a

257,
258 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

phase dominated by a concern for social and political issues rather than
the aesthetic ones that had dominated his earlier work. He dropped his
pen name and openly identified himself as the author of articles that con-
tained scathing critiques of the Peruvian army and political establishment.
For this reason, Nuestra Epoca was a short-lived publication. Another
scandal concerning the opinions expressed in his publications led Ma-
ridtegui to choose a government-sponsored trip to Europe over jail. He
traveled widely throughout Europe, and in Italy he met Ana Chiappe, who
became his wife. In 1923 he returned to Lima with his wife and their son.
Upon returning to Lima, he continued to be an important critical
voice. In 1924 he became the director of the Universidad Popular and
editor of the journal Claridad. While his professional position became
more secure, his health problems flared up. His one good leg was ampu-
tated. Although confined in terms of physical mobility, his mind remained
as active as ever, perhaps more so. In 1925 he published La escena con-
témporanea, compiled in part of articles previously published. In 1926 he
founded the journal Amauta, which had a distinctive interest in adapting
European ideas to Peruvian reality, especially the indigenous population.
In the pages of this journal, Maridtegui’s Marxist leanings were subtly
expressed. During this period, his political activity became more centered
on labor issues; he founded the newspaper Labor in 1928, to serve
workers. He was also involved in attempts to establish a socialist party in
Peru. His Marxist views come to full fruition in Seven Interpretative Essays
on Peruvian Reality, which was published in 1928.
In this last work, Mariategui’s broad knowledge is evident as he uses
socialist theory, European literary trends, and Peru’s indigenous legacy to
analyze the social reality of his native country. In the essay included here,
“The Problem of the Indian,” Maridtegui argues that only after the Peru-
vians recognize that the roots of the social injustices faced by Indians are
found in the feudal regime and its accompanying system of land tenure,
can any progress toward resolving the socioeconomic problems which the
indigenous groups suffer be made. He completely rejects the notion that
the oppression of the Indians can only be resolved by mixing these groups
with Europeans. He argues that the church cannot solve the problem of
oppression, nor can education solve it, for until the underlying conditions
of economic and social inequality are changed, no great changes can be
expected to come through other means.
Mariategui was not a systematic thinker. He was a committed intel-
lectual who never developed a grand, unifying system, but who paved the
way for the development of a strong Peruvian intellectual tradition. There
is no doubt that he was influenced by European ideas, but as he worked
with those ideas, adapting them to the Peruvian social reality, the ideas
took on a new, original shape.
seven Interpretive Essays on
Peruvian Reality

THE PROBLEM OF THE INDIAN

A» treatment of the problem of the Indian—written or verbal—that

fails or refuses to recognize it as a socioeconomic problem is but a
sterile, theoretical exercise destined to be completely discredited. Good
faith is no justification. Almost all such treatments have served merely to
mask or distort the reality of the problem. The socialist critic exposes and
defines the problem because he looks for its causes in the country’s
economy and not in its administrative, legal, or ecclesiastic machinery, its
racial dualism or pluralism, or its cultural or moral conditions. The
problem of the Indian is rooted in the land tenure system of our economy.
Any attempt to solve it with administrative or police measures, through
education or by a road-building program, is superficial and secondary, as
long as the feudalism of the gamonales continues to exist.!
Gamonalismo necessarily invalidates any law or regulation for the
protection of the Indian. The hacienda owner, the latifundista, is a feudal
lord. The written law is powerless against his authority, which is sup-
ported by custom and habit. Unpaid labor is illegal, yet unpaid and even
forced labor survive in the latifundium. The judge, the subprefect, the
commissary, the teacher, the tax collector, all are in bondage to the landed
estate. The law cannot prevail against the gamonales. Any official who
insisted on applying it would be abandoned and sacrificed by the central
government; here, the influences of gamonalismo are all-powerful, acting
directly or through parliament with equal effectiveness.

From Seven Interpretive Essays on Peruvian Reality by José Carlos Mariategui, trans. Marjory
Urquidi, copyright © 1971. By permission of the University of Texas.

Pay)
260 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

A fresh approach to the problem of the Indian, therefore, ought to be

much more concerned with the consequences of the land tenure system
than with drawing up protective legislation. The new trend was started in
1918 by Dr. José A. Encinas in his Contribucidn a una legislacion tutelar
indigena, and it has steadily gained strength. But by the very nature of
his study, Dr. Encinas could not frame a socioeconomic program. Since his
proposals were designed to protect Indian property, they had to be limited
to legal objectives. Outlining an indigenous homestead act, Dr. Encinas
recommended the distribution of state and church lands. Although he did
not mention expropriating the land of the latifundium gamonales, he
repeatedly and conclusively denounced the effects of the latifundium
system3 and, thereby, to some extent ushered in the present socioeco-
nomic approach to the Indian question.
This approach rejects and disqualifies any thesis that confines the
question to one or another of the following unilateral criteria: administra-
tive, legal, ethnic, moral, educational, ecclesiastic.
The oldest and most obvious mistake is, unquestionably, that of
reducing the protection of the Indian to an ordinary administrative matter.
From the days of Spanish colonial legislation, wise and detailed ordi-
nances, worked out after conscientious study, have been quite useless.
The republic, since independence, has been prodigal in its decrees, laws,
and provisions intended to protect the Indian against exaction and abuse.
The gamonal of today, like the encomendero of yesterday, however, has
little to fear from administrative theory; he knows that its practice is alto-
gether different.
The individualistic character of the republic’s legislation has favored
the absorption of Indian property by the latifundium system. The situation
of the Indian, in this respect, was viewed more realistically by Spanish leg-
islation. But legal reform has no more practical value than administrative
reform when confronted by feudalism intact within the economic struc-
ture. The appropriation of most communal and individual Indian property
is an accomplished fact. The experience of all countries that have evolved
from their feudal shows us, on the other hand, that liberal rights have not
been able to operate without the dissolution of feudalism.
The assumption that the Indian problem is ethnic is sustained by the
most outmoded repertory of imperialist ideas. The concept of inferior
races was useful to the white man’s West for purposes of expansion and
conquest. To expect that the Indian will be emancipated through a steady
crossing of the aboriginal race with white immigrants is an antisociolog-
ical naiveté that could only occur to the primitive mentality of an importer
of merino sheep. The people of Asia, who are in no way superior to the
Indians, have not needed any transfusion of European blood in order to
assimilate the most dynamic and creative aspects of Western culture. The
 José Carlos Maridtegut 261

degeneration of the Peruvian Indian is a cheap invention of sophists who

serve feudal interests. The tendency to consider the Indian problem as a
moral one embodies a liberal, humanitarian, enlightened nineteenth-cen-
tury attitude that in the political sphere of the Western world inspires and
motivates the “leagues of human rights.” The antislavery conferences and
societies in Europe that have denounced more or less futilely the crimes
of the colonizing nations are born of this tendency, which always has
trusted too much in its appeals to the conscience of civilization. Gonzalez
Prada was not immune to this hope when he wrote that “the condition of
the Indian can improve in two ways: either the heart of the oppressor will
be moved to take pity and recognize the rights of the oppressed, or the
spirit of the oppressed will find the valor needed to turn on the oppres-
sors.”* The Pro-Indian Association (1900-1917) represented the same
hope, although it owed its real effectiveness to the concrete and imme-
diate measures taken by its directors in defense of the Indian. This policy
was due in large measure to the practical, typically Saxon idealism of Dora
Mayer,° and the work of the Association became well known in Peru and
the rest of the world. Humanitarian teachings have not halted or ham-
pered European imperialism, nor have they reformed its methods. The
struggle against imperialism now relies only on the solidarity and strength
of the liberation movement of the colonial masses. This concept governs
anti-imperialist action in contemporary Europe, action that is supported
by liberals like Albert Einstein and Romain Rolland and, therefore, cannot
be considered exclusively Socialist.
On a moral and intellectual plane, the church took a more energetic
or at least a more authoritative stand centuries ago. This crusade, how-
ever, achieved only very wise laws and provisions. The lot of the Indian
remained substantially the same. Gonzalez Prada, whose point of view, as
we know, was not strictly Socialist, looked for the explanation of its failure
in the economic essentials: “It could not have happened otherwise;
exploitation was the official order; it was pretended that evils were
humanely perpetrated and injustices committed equitably. To wipe out
abuses, it would have been necessary to abolish land appropriation and
forced labor, in brief, to change the entire colonial regime. Without the toil
of the American Indian, the coffers of the Spanish treasury would have
been emptied.”® In any event, religious tenets were more likely to succeed
than liberal tenets. The former appealed to a noble and active Spanish
Catholicism, whereas the latter tried to make itself heard by a weak and
formalist criollo liberalism.
But today a religious solution is unquestionably the most outdated
and antihistoric of all. Its representatives—unlike their distant, how very
distant, teachers—are not concerned with obtaining a new declaration of
the rights of Indians, with adequate authority and ordinances; the mis-
262 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

sionary is merely assigned the role of mediator between the Indian and the
gamonal.’ If the church could not accomplish its task in a medieval era,
when its spiritual and intellectual capacity could be measured by friars
like Las Casas, how can it succeed with the elements it commands today?
The Seventh-Day Adventists, in that respect, have taken the lead from the
Catholic clergy, whose cloisters attract fewer and fewer evangelists.
The belief that the Indian problem is one of education does not seem
to be supported by even a strictly and independently pedagogical crite-
rion. Education is now more than ever aware of social and economic fac-
tors. The modern pedagogue knows perfectly well that education is not
just a question of school and teaching methods. Economic and social cir-
cumstances necessarily condition the work of the teacher. Gamonalismo
is fundamentally opposed to the education of the Indian; it has the same
interest in keeping the Indian ignorant as it has in encouraging him to
depend on alcohol.’ The modern school—assuming that in the present sit-
uation it could be multiplied at the same rate as the rural school-age pop-
ulation—is incompatible with the feudal latifundium. The mechanics of
the Indian’s servitude would altogether cancel the action of the school if
the latter, by a miracle that is inconceivable within social reality, should
manage to preserve its pedagogical mission under feudal regime. The
most efficient and grandiose teaching system could not perform these
prodigies. School and teacher are doomed to be debased under the pres-
sure of the feudal regime, which cannot be reconciled with the most ele-
mentary concept of progress and evolution. When this truth becomes par-
tially understood, the saving formula is thought to be discovered in
boarding schools for Indians. But the glaring inadequacy of this formula
is self-evident in view of the tiny percentage of the indigenous school pop-
ulation that can be boarded in these schools.
The pedagogical solution, advocated by many in good faith, has been
discarded officially. Educators, I repeat, can least afford to ignore eco-
nomic and social reality. At present, it only exists as a vague and formless
suggestion which no body or doctrine wants to adopt.
The new approach locates the problem of the Indian in the land
tenure system.

NOTES
1. In my prologue to Tempestad en los Andes by Valcarcel, an impassioned
and militant champion of the Indian, I have explained my point of view as follows:
“Faith in the renaissance of the Indian is not pinned to the material process of
‘Westernizing’ the Quechua country. The soul of the Indian is not raised by the
white man’s civilization or alphabet but by the myth, the idea, of the Socialist rev-
 José Carlos Maridtegui 263

olution. The hope of the Indian is absolutely revolutionary. That same myth, that
same idea, are the decisive agents in the awakening of other ancient peoples or
races in ruin: the Hindus, the Chinese, et cetera. Universal history today tends as
never before to chart its course with a common quadrant. Why should the Inca
people, who constructed the most highly developed and harmonious communistic
system, be the only ones unmoved by this worldwide emotion? The consanguinity
of the Indian movement with world revolutionary currents is too evident to need
documentation. I have said already that I reached an understanding and appreci-
ation of the Indian through socialism. The case of Valcarcel proves the validity of
my personal experience. Valcarcel, a man with a different intellectual background,
influenced by traditionalist tastes and oriented by another type of guidance and
studies, politically resolved his concern for the Indian in socialism. In this book,
he tells us that ‘the Indian proletariat awaits its Lenin.” A Marxist would not state
it differently.
“As long as the vindication of the Indian is kept on a philosophical and cul-
tural plane, it lacks a concrete historical base. To acquire such a base—that is, to
acquire physical reality—it must be converted into an economic and political vin-
dication. Socialism has taught us how to present the problem of the Indian in new
terms. We have ceased to consider it abstractly as an ethnic or moral problem and
we now recognize it concretely as a social, economic, and political problem. And,
for the first time, we have felt it to be clearly defined.
“Those who have not yet broken free of the limitations of a liberal bourgeois
education take an abstractionist and literary position. They idly discuss the racial
aspects of the problem, disguising its reality under a pseudo-idealistic language
and forgetting that it is essentially dominated by politics and, therefore, by eco-
nomics. They counter revolutionary dialectics with a confused critical jargon,
according to which a political reform or event cannot solve the Indian problem
because its immediate effects would not reach a multitude of complicated customs
and vices that can only be changed through a long and normal evolutionary
process.
“History, fortunately, dispels all doubts and clears up all ambiguities. The
conquest was a political event. Although it abruptly interrupted the autonomous
evolution of the Quechua nation, it did not involve a sudden substitution of the
conquerors’ law and customs for those of the natives. Nevertheless, this political
event opened up a new period in every aspect of their spiritual and material exis-
tence. The change in regime altered the life of the Quechua people to its very foun-
dations. Independence was another political event. It, too, did not bring about a
radical transformation in the economic and social structure of Peru; but it initiated,
notwithstanding, another period of our history. Although it did not noticeably
improve the condition of the Indian, having hardly touched the colonial economic
infrastructure, it did change his legal situation and clear the way for his political
and social emancipation. If the republic did not continue along this road, the fault
lies entirely with the class that profited from independence, which was potentially
very rich in values and creative principles.
“The problem of the Indian must no longer be obscured and confused by the
perpetual arguments of the throng of lawyers and writers who are consciously or
unconsciously in league with the latifundistas. The moral and material misery of the
264 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

Indian is too clearly the result of the economic and social system that has oppressed
him for centuries. This system, which succeeded colonial feudalism, is gamona-
lismo. While it rules supreme, there can be no question of redeeming the Indian.
“The term gamonalismo designates more than just a social and economic cat-
egory: that of the latifundistas or large landowners. It signifies a whole phenom-
enon. Gamonalismo is represented not only by the gamonales but by a long hier-
archy of officials, intermediaries, agents, parasites, et cetera. The literate Indian
who enters the service of gamonalismo turns into an exploiter of his own race. The
central factor of the phenomenon is the hegemony of the semifeudal landed estate
in the policy and mechanism of the government. Therefore, it is this factor that
should be acted upon if the evil is to be attacked at its roots and not merely
observed in its temporary or subsidiary manifestations.
“Gamonalismo or feudalism could have been eliminated by the republic
within its liberal and capitalist principles. But for reasons I have already indicated,
those principles have not effectively and fully directed our historic process. They
were sabotaged by the very class charged with applying them and for more than
a century they have been powerless to rescue the Indian from a servitude that was
an integral part of the feudal system. It cannot be hoped that today, when those
principles are in crisis all over the world, they can suddenly acquire in Peru an
unwonted creative vitality.
“Revolutionary and reformist thought can no longer be liberal; they must be
Socialist. Socialism appears in our history not because of chance, imitation, or
fashion, as some superficial minds would believe, but because it was historically
inevitable. On the one hand, we who profess socialism struggle logically and con-
sistently for the reorganization of our country on Socialist bases; proving that the
economic and political regime that we oppose has turned into an instrument for
colonizing the country on behalf of foreign imperialist capitalism, we declare that
this is a moment in our history when it is impossible to be really nationalist and
revolutionary without being Socialist. On the other hand, there does not exist and
never has existed in Peru a progressive bourgeoisie, endowed with national feel-
ings, that claims to be liberal and democratic and that derives its policy from the
postulates of its doctrine.”
2. Gonzalez Prada had already said in one of his early speeches as an intel-
lectual agitator that the real Peru was made up of the millions of Indians living in
the Andean valleys. The most recent edition of Horas de lucha includes a chapter
called “Nuestros indios” that shows him to be the forerunner of a new social con-
science: “Nothing changes a man’s psychology more swiftly and radically than the
acquisition of property; once his viscera are purged of slavery, he grows by leaps
and bounds. By simply owning something, a man climbs a few rungs in the social
ladder, because classes are divided into groups classified by wealth. Contrary to
the law of aerostatics, what weighs the most goes up the most. To those who say
schools the reply is schools and bread. The Indian question is economic and
social, rather than pedagogic.”
3. “Improving the economic condition of the Indian,” writes Encinas, “is the
best way to raise his social condition. His economic strength and all his activity
are found in the land. To take him away from the land is to alter profoundly and
dangerously the ancestral tendency of his race. In no other place and in no other
 José Carlos Maridtegui 265

way can he find a better source of wealth than in the land” (Contribucidn a una
legislacion tutelar indigena, p. 39). Encinas says elsewhere (p. 13): “Legal institu-
tions related to property are derived from economic necessities. Our civil code is
not in harmony with economic principles because it is individualistic. Unrestricted
property rights have created the latifundium to the detriment of Indian property.
Ownership of unproductive land has condemned a race to serfdom and misery.”
4. Gonzalez Prada, “Nuestros indios,” in Horas de lucha, 2d ed.
5. Dora Mayer de Zulen summarizes the character of the Pro-Indian Associa-
tion in this way: “In specific and practical terms, the Pro-Indian Association sig-
nifies for historians what Maridtegui assumes to be an experiment in the redemp-
tion of the backward and enslaved indigenous race through an outside protective
body that without charge and by legal means has sought to serve it as a lawyer in
its claims against the government.” But, as appears in the same interesting review
of the association’s work, Dora Mayer believes that it tried above all to create a
sense of responsibility. “One hundred years after the republican emancipation of
Peru, the conscience of the governors, the gamonales, the clergy, and the educated
and semi-educated public continued to disregard its responsibilities to a people
who not only deserved philanthropic deliverance from inhuman treatment, but to
whom Peruvian patriotism owed a debt of national honor, because the Inca race
had lost the respect of its own and other countries.” The best result of the Pro-
Indian Association, however, was, according to Dora Mayer’s faithful testimony, its
influence in awakening the Indian. “What needed to happen was happening; the
Indians themselves were learning to do without the protection of outsiders and to
find ways to redress their grievances.”
6. Gonzalez Prada, Horas de lucha.
7. “Only the missionary,” writes José Ledn y Bueno, one of the leaders of
Accion Social de la Juventud, “can redeem and make restitution to the Indian.
Only he can return to Peru its unity, dignity, and strength by acting the tireless
intermediary between the gamonal and the resident hacienda laborer and between
the latifundista and the communal farmer; by preventing the arbitrary acts of the
governor, who heeds solely the political interests of the criollo cacique; by
explaining in simple terms the objective lessons of nature and interpreting life in
its fatality and liberty; by condoning excesses during celebrations; by cutting off
carnal appetites at their source; and by revealing to the Indian race its lofty mis-
sion.” Boletin de la A. S. J., May 1928.
8. It is well known that the production—and also the smuggling—of cane
alcohol is a profitable business of the hacendados of the sierra. Even those on the
coast exploit this market to some extent. The alcoholism of the peon and the res-
ident laborer is indispensable to the prosperity of our great agricultural properties.
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José Vasconcelos
(1882-1959)

\/asconcelos must undoubtedly be considered one of the most inter-

esting and controversial figures in the history of Latin American phi-
losophy. A committed philosopher, an excellent writer, a dedicated edu-
cator and political activist, he represents in his life and in his work a pro-
found sense of Mexican destiny and of Latin American culture in general.
He was born in Oaxaca, Mexico, in 1882. In 1897 he moved to the
capital, Mexico City, and remained there the rest of his life. He studied at
the National College of Jurisprudence, graduating in 1905. His thesis, “La
teoria dindmica del derecho,” which was later published in Revista posi-
tiva (1907), reflects the positivist perspective that dominated his thought
at the time. His sympathy for positivism was, however, transitory. A year
later, in 1908, he, along with a group of like-minded young thinkers,
founded the Ateneo de la Juventud, which became a center of artistic and
philosophical productivity from which the Mexican national intellectual
movement emerged. From that time on he was no longer identified with
the ideological positivism that had dominated the Mexican intellectual
environment throughout the dictatorship of Porfirio Diaz.
During the turmoil caused by the revolutionary years of 1910 and fol-
lowing, Vasconcelos actively participated in the national struggle. He was
exiled on two occasions, in 1910 and again in 1913, and was obliged to
remain in the United States for some time. In 1914 he returned to Mexico
to assume the position of minister of public education. During the gov-
ernment of Venustiano Carranza, he left the country again. In 1919 he was
appointed president of the National University and later minister of edu-
cation for the second time. During this period he began the intensive
activity involved in providing a foundation for the Mexican educational
system. His unsuccessful bid for the national presidency in the elections

267
268 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

of 1929 brought an end to his political ambitions. From 1939 onward, his
public activity was limited in great part by the responsibilities associated
with his post as director of the national library. He died in Mexico on June
30; 1959:
Parallel with his intense political activity and teaching responsibilities,
Vasconcelos developed a philosophical system inspired by Bergson,
Schopenhauer, Plotinus, and Pythagoras—a system he characterized as
“aesthetic monism.” Its development begins with Pitagoras, una teoria del
ritmo (1916) and continues through many books and essays, among which
the most important are El monismo estético (1918) and Tratado de
metaftsica (1929). Todologia (1952) concludes the development of Vas-
concelo’s system and constitutes the most important synthesis of his
thought. In it he provides the final statement of his philosophical system
and attempts to integrate it with the principles of Christianity to which he
had been converted shortly before. Within this system the human being is
the highest expression of the principle that makes reality intelligible. Vas-
concelos goes on to claim that human beings are the genuine albeit small
reflections of the universe and that therefore they constitute true micro-
cosms.
In a series of works that attained great popularity—Estudios
indostdnicos (1920), La raza cdsmica (1925), Indologia (1926)—Vascon-
celos optimistically heralds a new dawn for Latin America. The passage
included here is from La raza cdsmica. In this short work, we find Vas-
concelos’s claim that the foundation of the bright and promising future of
Latin America will be constituted by a cosmic race, a synthesis of the four
basic races of the present world, that will emerge in the region of the
Amazon and fulfill “the divine mission of America.” In contrast to what
he considered to be the ethnic egoism, materialism, and typical racism of
the Anglo-Saxon people of Europe and North America, the new race will
be characterized by a universal spirit based on love. Vasconcelos cele-
brates the mixing of races that has taken place in Ibero-American lands,
contrasting this to the annihilation of the Indians in North America and
the impenetrable boundaries drawn between blacks and whites in the
Anglo-Saxon world. It is his view that the destiny of the races will be
decided in the New World.
The Cosmic Race

MESTIZAJE

|: the opinion of respectable geologists, the American continent

includes some of the most ancient regions of the world. The Andes are,
undoubtedly, as old as any other mountain range on earth. And while the
land itself is ancient, the traces of life and human culture also go back in
time beyond any calculations. The architectural ruins of legendary
Mayans, Quechuas, and Toltecs are testimony of civilized life previous to
the oldest foundations of towns in the Orient and Europe. As research
advances, more support is found for the hypothesis of Atlantis as the
cradle of a civilization that flourished millions of years ago in the vanished
continent and in parts of what is today America... .
If we are, then, geologically ancient, as well as in respect to the tradi-
tion, how can we still continue to accept the fiction, invented by our Euro-
pean fathers, of the novelty of a continent that existed before the appear-
ance of the land from where the discoverers and conquerors came?
The question has paramount importance to those who insist in
looking for a plan in History. The confirmation of the great antiquity of
our continent may seem idle to those who see nothing in the chain of
events but a fateful repetition of meaningless patterns. With boredom we
should regard the work of contemporary civilization, if the Toltec palaces

Vasconcelos, José. Afterword by Joseba Gabilondo. The Cosmic Race/La raza cdsmica, trans.
Didier T. Jaén (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997), pp. 7-9, 10-19, 32-33,
38-40. Copyright © 1997 José Vasconcelos. Reprinted with permission of The Johns Hopkins
University Press.

269
270 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

would tell us nothing else but that civilizations pass away leaving no other
fruit than a few carved stones piled upon each other or forming arched
vaults or roofs of two planes intersecting at an angle. Why begin again, if
within four or five thousand years other new immigrants will distract their
leisure by pondering upon the remains of our trivial contemporary archi-
tecture? Scientific history becomes confused and leaves unanswered all
these ruminations. Empirical history, suffering from myopia, loses itself in
details, but it cannot determinea single antecedent for historical times. It
flees from genera! conclusions, from transcendental hypotheses, to fall
into the puerility of the description of utensils and cranial indices and so
many other, merely external, minutiae that lack importance when seen
apart from a vast and comprehensive theory.
Only a leap of the spirit, nourished with facts, can give us a vision
that will lift us above the micro-ideology of the specialist. Then we can
dive deeply into the mass of events in order to discover a direction, a
rhythm, and a purpose. Precisely there, where the analyst discovers
nothing, the synthesizer and the creator are enlightened. Let us, then,
attempt explanations, not with the fantasy of the novelist, but with an
intuition supported by the facts of history and science.
The race that we have agreed to call Atlantean prospered and declined
in America. After its extraordinary flourishment, after having completed
its cycle and fulfilled its particular mission, it entered the silence and went
into decline until being reduced to the lesser Aztec and Inca empires,
totally unworthy of the ancient and superior culture. With the decline of
the Atlanteans, the intense civilization was transported to other sites and
changed races: It dazzled in Egypt; it expanded in India and Greece,
grafted onto new races. The Aryans mixed with the Dravidians to produce
the Hindustani, and at the same time, by means of other mixtures, created
Hellenic culture.
Greece laid the foundations of Western or European civilization; the
white civilization that, upon expanding, reached the forgotten shores of
the American continent in order to consummate the task of recivilization
and repopulation. Thus we have the four stages and the four racial trunks:
the Black, the Indian, the Mongol, and the White. The latter, after orga-
nizing itself in Europe, has become the invader of the world, and has con-
sidered itself destined to rule, as did each of the previous races during
their time of power. It is clear that domination by the whites will also be
temporary, but their mission is to serve as a bridge. The white race has
brought the world to a state in which all human types and cultures will
be able to fuse with each other. The civilization developed and organized
in our times by the whites has set the moral and material basis for the
union of all men into a fifth universal race, the fruit of all the previous
ones and amelioration of everything past.
 José Vasconcelos Dy

White culture is migratory, yet it was not Europe as a whole that was
in charge of initiating the reintegration of the red world into the modality
of preuniversal culture, which had been represented for many centuries by
the white man. The transcendental mission fell upon the two most daring
branches of the European family, the strongest and most different human
types: the Spanish and the English... .
Our age became, and continues to be, a conflict of Latinism against
Anglo-Saxonism; a conflict of institutions, aims, and ideals. It marks the
climax of a secular fight that begins with the disaster of the Invincible
Armada and gets worse with the defeat of Trafalgar. Since then, the loca-
tion of the conflict began to change and was transferred to the new conti-
nent, where it still had fateful episodes. The defeats of Santiago de Cuba,
Cavite, and Manila were distant but logical echoes of the catastrophes of
the Invincible and Trafalgar. Now the conflict is set entirely in the New
World. In History, centuries tend to be like days; thus it is not strange at all
that we still cannot completely discard the impression of defeat. We are
going through times of despair, we continue to lose not only sovereignty,
but moral power. Far from feeling united in the face of disaster, our deter-
mination is dispersed in search of small and vain goals. Defeat has brought
us the confusion of values and concepts; the victor’s diplomacy deceives us
after defeating us; commerce conquers us with its small advantages.
Despoiled of our previous greatness, we boast of an exclusively national
patriotism and we do not even see the dangers that threaten our race as a
whole. We deny ourselves to each other. Defeat has debased us to the point
that, without even being aware of it, we serve the ends of the enemy policy
of defeating us one by one; of offering particular advantages to some of our
brothers while the vital interests of the others are sacrificed. Not only were
we defeated in combat; ideologically, the Anglos continue to conquer us.
The greatest battle was lost on the day that each one of the Iberian
republics went forth alone, to live her own life apart from her sisters, con-
certing treaties and receiving false benefits, without tending to the common
interests of the race. The founders of our new nationalism were, without
knowing it, the best allies of the Anglo-Saxons, our rivals in the possession
of the continent. The unfurling of our twenty banners at the Pan American
Union in Washington, should be seen as a joke played by skillful enemies.
Yet, each of us takes pride in our humble rags, expression of a vain illusion,
and we do not even blush at the fact of our discord in the face of the pow-
erful North American union. We ignore the contrast presented by Anglo-
Saxon unity in opposition to the anarchy and solitude of the Ibero Amer-
ican emblems. We keep ourselves jealously independent from each other,
yet one way or another we submit to, or ally ourselves with, the Anglo-
Saxon union. Not even the national unity of the five Central American
states has been possible, because a stranger has not granted us his approval
272 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

and because we lack the true patriotism to sacrifice the present for the
future. A lack of creative thinking and an excess of critical zeal, which we
have certainly borrowed from other cultures, takes us to fruitless discus-
sions in which our common aspirations are denied as often as they are
ascertained. Yet, we do not realize that, in times of action, and despite all
the doubts of English thinkers, the English seek the alliance of their Amer-
ican or Australian brothers, and the Yankee feels as English as the Eng-
lishman from England. We shall not be great as long as the Spaniard from
America does not feel as much a Spaniard as the sons of Spain. This does
not preclude that we may differ whenever necessary, as long as we do not
drift away from the higher common mission. This is the way we have to
act, if we are to allow the Iberian culture to finish producing all its fruits;
if we are going to keep Anglo-Saxon culture from remaining triumphant in
America without opposition. It is futile to imagine other solutions. Civi-
lization is neither improvised nor curtailed, nor can it grow out of the paper
of a political constitution. It always derives from a long, secular prepara-
tion and purification of elements that are transmitted and combined from
the beginning of History. For that reason, it is stupid to initiate our patrio-
tism with Father Hidalgo’s cry of independence, or the conspiration of
Quito, or the feats of Bolivar, because if we do not root it in Cuauhtemoc
and Atahualpa, it will have no support. At the same time, it is necessary to
trace our patriotism back to our Hispanic fountainhead and educate it on
the lessons we should derive from the defeats, which are also ours, of
Trafalgar and the Invincible Armada. If our patriotism is not identified with
the different stages of the old conflict between Latins and Anglo-Saxons, it
shall never overcome a regionalism lacking in universal breadth. We shall
fatefully see it degenerate into the narrowness and myopia of parochialism,
or into the impotent inertia of a mollusk attached to its rock.
So that we shall not be forced to deny our own fatherland, it is nec-
essary that we live according to the highest interests of the race, even
though this may not be yet in the highest interest of humanity... .
The first stage of the profound conflict was decided in Europe and we
lost. Afterward, when all the advantages were on our side in the New
World, since Spain had conquered America, the Napoleonic stupidity gave
Louisiana away to the Englishmen from this side of the ocean, to the Yan-
kees; this decided the fate of the New World in favor of the Anglo-Saxons.
The “genius of war” could see no farther than the miserable boundary dis-
putes between puny European states, and did not realize that the cause of
Latinism, which he claimed to represent, was defeated on the same day
that the Empire was proclaimed, by the sole fact that the common destiny
was placed in the hands of an incompetent. On the other hand, European
prejudice hid the fact that, in America, the conflict that Napoleon could
not comprehend in its full transcendence had already acquired universal
 José Vasconcelos 273

dimensions. Napoleon, in his foolishness, was not able to surmise that the
destiny of the European races was going to be decided in the New World.
When, in the most thoughtless manner, he destroyed French power in
America, he also weakened the Spaniards. He betrayed us and placed us
at the mercy of the common enemy. Without Napoleon, the United States
would not exist as a world empire, and Louisiana, still French, would have
to be part of the Latin American Confederation. The defeat of Trafalgar,
then, would have been irrelevant. None of these facts were even consid-
ered because the destiny of the race was in the hands of a fool, because
caesarism is the scourge of the Latin race.
Napoleon’s betrayal of the global destiny of France mortally wounded
the Spanish empire in America at the moment of its greatest weakness.
The English-speaking people took possession of Louisiana without
combat, reserving their ammunitions for the now easy conquest of Texas
and California. Without the base of the Mississippi, the English, who call
themselves Yankees out of a simple richness of expression, would not
have been able to take possession of the Pacific; they would not be the
masters of the continent today; they would have remained in a sort of
Netherlands transplanted to America, and the New World would be
Spanish and French. Bonaparte made it Anglo-Saxon.
... Should one talk to the most exalted Indianist of the convenience
of adapting ourselves to Latinism, he will raise no questions; but tell him
that our culture is Spanish and he will immediately bring up counterar-
guments. The stain from the spilled blood still remains. It is an accursed
stain that centuries have not erased, but which the common danger must
annul. There is no other recourse. Even the pure Indians are Hispanized,
they are Latinized, just as the environment itself is Latinized. Say what
one may, the red men, the illustrious Atlanteans from whom Indians
derive, went to sleep millions of years ago, never to awaken. There is no
going back in History, for it is all transformation and novelty. No race
returns. Each one states its mission, accomplishes it, and passes away.
This truth rules in biblical times as well as in our times; all the ancient
historians have formulated it. The days of the pure whites, the victors of
today, are as numbered as were the days of their predecessors. Having ful-
filled their destiny of mechanizing the world, they themselves have set,
without knowing it, the basis for a new period: The period of the fusion
and mixing of all peoples. The Indian has no other door to the future but
the door of modern culture, nor any other road but the road already
cleared by Latin civilization. The white man, as well, will have to depose
his pride and look for progress and ulterior redemption in the souls of his
brothers from other castes. He will have to diffuse and perfect himself in
each of the superior varieties of the species, in each of the modalities that
multiply revelation and make genius more powerful.
274 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

_.. It seems as if God Himself guided the steps of the Anglo-Saxon

cause, while we kill each other on account of dogma or declare ourselves
atheists. How those mighty empire builders must laugh at our groundless
arrogance and Latin vanity! They do not clutter their mind with the
Ciceronian weight of phraseology, nor have they in their blood the con-
tradictory instincts of a mixture of dissimilar races, but they committed the
sin of destroying those races, while we assimilated them, and this gives us
new rights and hopes for a mission without precedent in History.
For this reason, adverse obstacles do not move us to surrender, for we
vaguely feel that they will help us to discover our way. Precisely in our dif-
ferences, we find the way. If we simply imitate, we lose. If we discover and
create, we shall overcome. The advantage of our tradition is that it has
greater facility of sympathy toward strangers. This implies that our civiliza-
tion, with all defects, may be the chosen one to assimilate and to transform
mankind into a new type; that within our civilization, the warp, the mul-
tiple and rich plasma of future humanity is thus being prepared. This man-
date from History is first noticed in that abundance of love that allowed the
Spaniard to create a new race with the Indian and the Black, profusely
spreading white ancestry through the soldier who begat a native family, and
Occidental culture through the doctrine and example of the missionaries
who placed the Indians in condition to enter into the new stage, the stage
of world One. Spanish colonization created mixed races, this signals its
character, fixes its responsibility, and defines its future. The English kept on
mixing only with the whites and annihilated the natives. Even today, they
continue to annihilate them in a sordid and economic fight, more efficient
yet than armed conquest. This proves their limitation and is indication of
their decadence. The situation is equivalent, in a larger scale, to the inces-
tuous marriages of the pharaohs which undermined the virtues of the race;
and it contradicts the ulterior goals of History to attain the fusion of peoples
and cultures. To build an English world and to exterminate the red man, so
that Northern Europe could be renovated all over an America made up with
pure whites, is no more than a repetition of the triumphant process of a con-
quering race. This was already attempted by the red man and by all strong
and homogeneous races, but it does not solve the human problem. America
was not kept in reserve for five thousand years for such a petty goal. The
purpose of the new and ancient continent is much more important. Its pre-
destination obeys the design of constituting the cradle of a fifth race into
which all nations will fuse with each other to replace the four races that
have been forging History apart from each other. The dispersion will come
to an end on American soil; unity will be consummated there by the tri-
umph of fecund love and the improvement of all the human races. In this
fashion, the synthetic race that shall gather all the treasures of History in
order to give expression to universal desire shall be created.
 José Vasconcelos 275

The so-called Latin peoples, because they have been more faithful to
their divine mission in America, are the ones called upon to consummate
this mission. Such fidelity to the occult design is the guarantee of our tri-
umph.
Even during the chaotic period of independence, which deserves so
much censure, one can notice, however, glimpses of that eagerness for
universality which already announced the desire to fuse humanity into a
universal and synthetic type. Needless to say, Bolivar, partly because he
realized the danger into which we were falling by dividing ourselves into
isolated nationalities, and partly because of his gift for prophecy, formu-
lated the plan for an Ibero-American Federation which some fools still
question today.
It is true that, in general, the other leaders of Latin American inde-
pendence did not have a clear conception of the future. Carried away by
a provincialism that today we call patriotism, or by a limitation that today
is dubbed national sovereignty, every one of them was only concerned
with the immediate fate of their own people. Yet, it is also surprising to
observe that almost all of them felt animated by a humane and universal
sentiment which coincides with the destiny that today we assign to the
Latin American continent. Hidalgo, Morelos, Bolivar, Petion the Haitian,
the Argentinians in Tucuman, Sucre, all were concerned with the libera-
tion of the slaves, with the declaration of the equality of all men by nat-
ural right, and with the civil and social equality of Whites, Blacks, and
Indians. In a moment of historical crisis, they formulated the transcen-
dental mission assigned to that region of the globe: The mission of fusing
all peoples ethnically and spiritually.
Thus, what no one even thought of doing on the Anglo-Saxon area of
the continent was done on the Latin side. In the north, the contrary thesis
continued to prevail: The confessed or tacit intention of cleaning the earth
of Indians, Mongolians, or Blacks, for the greater glory and fortune of the
Whites. In fact, since that time, the systems which, continuing to the pre-
sent, have placed the two civilizations on opposing sociological fields
were very well defined. The one wants exclusive dominion by the Whites,
while the other is shaping a new race, a synthetic race that aspires to
engulf and to express everything human in forms of constant improve-
ment. If it were necessary to adduce proof, it would be sufficient to
observe the increasing and spontaneous mixing which operates among all
peoples in all of the Latin continent; in contrast with the inflexible line
that separates the Blacks from the Whites in the United States, and the
laws, each time more rigorous, for the exclusion of the Japanese and Chi-
nese from California.
The so-called Latins insist on not taking the ethnic factor too much into
account for their sexual relations, perhaps because from the beginning they
276 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

are not, properly speaking, Latins but a conglomeration of different types

and races. Whatever opinions one may express in this respect, and what-
ever repugnance caused by prejudice one may harbor, the truth is that the
mixture of races has taken place and continues to be consummated. . . .
No contemporary race can present itself alone as the finished model
that all the others should imitate. The mestizo, the Indian, and even the
Black are superior to the White in a countless number of properly spiri-
tual capacities. Neither in antiquity, nor in the present, have we a race
capable of forging civilization by itself. The most illustrious epochs of
humanity have been, precisely, those in which several different peoples
have come into contact and mixed with each other. India, Greece, Alexan-
dria, Rome are but examples that only a geographic and ethnic univer-
sality is capable of giving the fruits of civilization. In the contemporary
period, while the pride of the present masters of the world asserts through
the mouth of their scientists the ethnic and mental superiority of the
Whites from the north, any teacher can corroborate that the children and
youths descendant from Scandinavians, Dutch, and English found in
North American universities, are much slower, and almost dull, compared
with the mestizo children and youths from the south. Perhaps this advan-
tage is explained as the result of a beneficial spiritual Mendelianism,
caused by a combination of contrary elements. The truth is that vigor is
renewed with graftings, and that the soul itself looks for diversity in order
to enrich the monotony of its own contents. Only a long-lasting experience
will be able to show the results of a mixture no longer accomplished by
violence, nor by reason of necessity, but by the selection founded on the
dazzling produced by beauty and confirmed by the pathos of love... .
We have, then, in the continent all the elements for the new
Humanity: A law that will gradually select elements for the creation of
predominant types; a law that will not operate according to a national cri-
terion, as would be the case with a single conquering race, but according
to a criterion of universality and beauty; and we also have the land and
the natural resources. No people in Europe could replace the Ibero-Amer-
ican in this mission, no matter how gifted they might be, because all of
them have their culture already made and a tradition that constitutes a
burden for such enterprises. A conquering race could not substitute us,
because it would fatefully impose its own characteristics, even if only out
of the need to exert violence in order to maintain its conquest. This mis-
sion cannot be fulfilled either by the peoples of Asia, who are exhausted,
or at least, lacking in the necessary boldness for new enterprises.
The people that Hispanic America is forming in a somewhat disor-
derly manner, yet free of spirit and with intense longings on account of
the vast unexplored regions, can still repeat the feats of the Castilian and
Portuguese conquerors. The Hispanic race, in general, still has ahead of it
 José Vasconcelos DE

this mission of discovering new regions of the spirit, now that all lands
have already been explored.
Only the Iberian part of the continent possesses the spiritual factors,
the race, and the territory necessary for the great enterprise of initiating
the new universal era of Humanity. All the races that are to provide their
contribution are already there: The Nordic man, who is today the master
of action but who had humble beginnings and seemed inferior in an epoch
in which already great cultures had appeared and decayed; the black man,
as a reservoir of potentialities that began in the remote days of Lemuria;
the Indian, who saw Atlantis perish but still keeps a quiet mystery in the
conscience. We have all the races and all the aptitudes. The only thing
lacking is for true love to organize and set in march the law of History.
Many obstacles are opposed to the plan of the spirit, but they are
obstacles common to all progress. Of course, some people may object,
saying that how are the different races going to come to an accord, when
not even the children of the same stock can live in peace and happiness
within the economic and social regime that oppresses man today. But
such a state of mind will have to change rapidly. All the tendencies of the
future are intertwined in the present: Mendelianism in biology, socialism
in government, growing sympathy among the souls, generalized progress,
and the emergence of the fifth race that will fill the planet with the tri-
umphs of the first truly universal, truly cosmic culture.
If we view the process panoramically, we shall find the three stages of
the law of the three states of society, each one vivified with the contribu-
tion of the four fundamental races that accomplish their mission and,
then, disappear in order to create a fifth superior ethnic specimen. This
gives us five races and three stages, that is, the number eight which in the
Pythagorean gnosis represents the ideal of the equality of all men. Such
coincidences are surprising when discovered, although later they may
seem trivial.
In order to express all these ideas that today I am trying to expound
in a rapid synthesis, I tried, some years ago, when they were not yet well
defined, to assign them symbols in the new Palace of Public Education in
Mexico. Lacking sufficient elements to do exactly what I wished, I had to
be satisfied with a Spanish renaissance building, with two courtyards,
archways, and passages that give somewhat the impression of a bird’s
wing. On the panels at the four corners of the first patio, I had them carve
allegories representing Spain, Mexico, Greece, and India, the four partic-
ular civilizations that have most to contribute to the formation of Latin
America. Immediately below these four allegories, four stone statues
should have been raised, representing the four great contemporary races:
the white, the red, the black, and the yellow, to indicate that America is
home to all and needs all of them. Finally, in the center, a monument
278 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

should have been raised that in some way would symbolize the law of the
three states: The material, the intellectual, and the aesthetic. All this was
to indicate that through the exercise of the triple law, we in America shall
arrive, before any other part of the world, at the creation of a new race
fashioned out of the treasures of all the previous ones: The final race, the
cosmic race.
Samuel Ramos
(1897-1959)

Re is the most outstanding Mexican philosopher in the genera-

tion that followed “the founders.” He was born in Zitacuaro in 1897.
He studied at the National High School at San Nicolds de Hidalgo and later
in Mexico City under Antonio Caso. In 1920 he collaborated with Vascon-
celos in the Ministry of Public Education. He lived for a time in France and
Italy and later became a professor of philosophy at the National Univer-
sity in Mexico City. In particular, he held the chairs of aesthetics and his-
tory of philosophy and letters and later became a member of the Colegio
Nacional, an institution that brought together the most important intel-
lectuals of Mexico.
In his first work, Hypothesis (1928), he tells of the vicissitudes of his
spiritual pilgrimage and of his debt to and his break with Caso. Ortega y
Gasset, Scheler, Hartmann, and Adler also influenced his thought.
The perspectivism of Ortega helped to provide a foundation for his
preoccupation with a national philosophy and to clarify the “Mexican
nature.” Ramos was attracted to two apparently contradictory impulses
that he attempted to reconcile. He sought to remain true to the particu-
larity of Mexican reality and yet he aspired to knowledge and values that
are universal. He succeeded in avoiding both an abstract universalism and
a false folkloric nationalism, maintaining that “‘the norm of nationalism’
must be to purify our own life without impairing it as it approaches the
level of universal forms.”
He analyzes these problems in his work Perfil del hombre y la cultura
en México (1934). This was the first attempt by a philosopher to interpret
Mexican culture. In applying the psychoanalytic theory of Adler, Ramos
believed he had discovered that the fundamental characteristic of a Mex-
ican, taken individually as well as collectively, is an inferiority complex.

Pies)
280 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

This interpretation is continued later by Octavio Paz in his well-known

book El laberinto de la soledad (1947).
The selection from Ramos included here illustrates his philosophical
engagement with the “destiny of culture in Mexico,” his concern for lifting
the shadows of false Europeanism, and opening a path toward the devel-
opment of an authentic and proud Mexican culture. Ultimately, Ramos
believed that the spiritual renewal of his country would be achieved by a
profound educational reform that would be based on a new theory of
man. He developed these thoughts in one of his most important works,
Hacia un nuevo humanismo. Programa de una antropologia filosdfica
(1940), which had great influence on the authors included earlier in Part
II. In 1943 he wrote the first history of philosophy in Mexico (Historia de
la filosofia en México), which influenced Zea’s turn toward Mexican philo-
sophical traditions.
Profile of Man and Culture
in Mexico

THE PROFILE OF MEXICAN CULTURE

|:one of his observations on the New World, Bolivar wrote that we

Americans are Europeans by heritage. In Mexico this heritage was
abused for an entire century; there was excessive imitation of Europe,
with no other guide than individual caprice. The original sin of Mexican
Europeanism was its lack of a standard for selecting foreign seeds of cul-
ture which in our spiritual earth could have produced the appropriate
remedies for particular needs. That standard should have been none other
than reality itself, but reality was unknown, because all our attention and
interest had turned to Europe. The fallacy of always attempting to imitate
Europe was possibly derived from an erroneous concept of culture which
by extravagant idealization separated it from life, as if warmth and energy
were not indispensable to the spirit’s survival.
The prevailing culture—present or future—is necessarily that which
determines vocation of the race and its historical destiny. We shall try to
draw the profile of a culture that conceivably could exist in Mexico, given
certain organic circumstances of society and man as the results of a par-
ticular history.
We must not continue to practice a false Europeanism; but it is just as
urgent to avoid another dangerous illusion, cherished by an equally false
type of Mexicanism. Enlivened by a resentment against everything for-
eign, this Mexicanism seeks to rebuild our national life on other bases
than those which it has had up to now—as if it were possible to undo in
one moment our entire history. There is an attempt to isolate Mexico from
From Profile of Man and Culture in Mexico, pp. 101-109, by Samuel Ramos, trans. Peter G.
Earle, copyright © 1962. By permission of the University of Texas Press.

281
282 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

all contact with the outside world so as to free its native qualities from all
extraneous elements. Just as “Europeanism” was founded on the ideal of
a culture which could exist apart from life, “nationalism” was founded on
the belief that Mexico was already complete in itself, with a definitive
national physiognomy, and that its only need was to be drawn out into the
light of day, like an unearthed idol. Such a belief is supported by an incli-
nation to the picturesque—mountain scenes, dotted with Indian figures in
their typical white cotton suits and with cactus plants. Recent art has
undertaken an amplification—as in a resounding box—of the “pic-
turesque” dimensions that have found wide acceptance, especially among
Yankee tourists. But this Mexico of the charro (Mexican horseman) and
the Mexico of the china poblana (colorful style of women’s regional
dress), as well as the Mexico of the legendary savage (whose novelty and
attraction for Europeans I cannot understand; there is proof of their own
savagery in what has transpired since 1914), constitute a Mexico for
export which is just as false as the romantic Spain of the tambourine.
But if we can rid our nationalistic spirit of all its resentment against
things foreign (the kind of resentment which is typical in those suffering
from an inferiority complex), there will undoubtedly remain a moral sub-
stance of absolute value for Mexico. This will be the voice of our most
authentic being, which now finally makes itself heard after so many years
in which the Mexican turned a deaf ear to his destiny. It is almost impos-
sible to believe that this is a novelty; but it is. Mexicans have not lived nat-
urally; their history has always lacked candor. That is why they now
should quickly heed that voice, which demands a life of sincerity. We must
have the courage to be ourselves and the humility to accept the life that
fate bestowed upon us without being ashamed of its poverty. All the ills
that have outlived us are due to our failure to practice these simple rules
of austerity; we have chosen to feign a situation which is very superior to
that in which we actually live. Many of the sufferings which now afflict us
will disappear the day we cure ourselves of our vanity. As a consequence
of living outside the reality of our being, we are lost in a chaotic world, in
the midst of which we walk blindly and aimlessly, buffeted about by the
four winds. For times of radical confusion there is no better remedy than
to withdraw into ourselves, to return to the native soil. There is no doubt
that after periods of muddled thinking and debilitation men and even
entire peoples have revived. In our particular case, a figurative return to
our own land will give us the physical and moral health necessary for
recovering confidence in the future. It is a consolation to note that for
some years the Mexican conscience has steadfastly sought true national
introspection. But unfortunately the examination of our conscience has not
been undertaken with the rigor, depth, and objectivity that the case
requires. How can people be impartial judges in questions which affect
 Samuel Ramos 283

their personal interests and partisan passions? Human experience shows

that an interest or a passion cannot be defeated except by a greater interest
or a greater passion. Therefore, we shall be incapable of knowing our-
selves as individuals or as a people until we can overcome our little pas-
sions with the great passion for truth. This is one of the ways of disinter-
ested love for persons and things, whether real or ideal. Love of knowledge
was best symbolized by the eros of Plato. In order to develop, this love of
knowledge must become a fundamental concern of Mexican education.
The man who has this passion for truth will have also the indispens-
able moral strength to carry out a merciless analysis of himself, over-
coming the weaknesses that might prevent a clear and objective view of
his interior world. But the achievement of his high mental vantage point,
from which we can look at things not as if we were extraterrestrial beings,
but merely intelligent spectators, would not suffice to probe the inner
recesses of reality. To this moral discipline an intellectual discipline must
be added. It would be senseless to insist on this point if there were not a
trend of opinion obviously favorable to scientific learning as the absolute
prerequisite for an investigation of Mexican problems. A false concept of
science seems to support this dangerous error.
Indeed, it is an exceedingly vulgar concept, the result of ignorance of
superficiality, in which one can hear the distant echo of positivism; it is
the fallacy that knowledge is acquired simply by opening up the five
senses to reality. In this way of thinking, the intellectual function becomes
subservient to the scientific process, to the extent that experience by its
own virtue has the magic capacity of converting itself into ideas. Scientific
research is reduced to a matter of accumulating facts, as if gathering them
up to a certain amount were sufficient to cause scientific knowledge to
burst into light. The chauvinistic mentality supposes, since science is
European, that all intellectual preparation must constitute a bias in the
scholar’s mind, and accordingly blinds him to its native originality.
Therefore it is not surprising that such a theory of science should
encourage the notion of creating a “Mexican science” which would admit
no debt to the principles of universal science.
This is why in Mexico the true theory of science must be assimilated,
because the popularized image that we have just described is no more
than its caricature. Scientific research is impracticable if it does not con-
front reality with a prejudgment. Prejudgment is what guides the attention
toward a given phenomenon; to prejudgment we owe our discovery of the
relationship among different facts and perceive the continuity of a single
process in events of diverse appearance. In a word, prejudgment is what
within the medium of experience leads us to the scientific idea. But one
cannot acquire these prejudgments without learning, before the actual
investigation, the principles of the science in question.
284 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

To believe that we can develop in Mexico an original culture unrelated

to the rest of the world constitutes a total misunderstanding of what cul-
ture is. The commonest notion is that culture is pure knowledge. One fails
to recognize the truth that it is rather a function of the spirit destined to
humanize reality. But it is clear that this function is not spontaneous. Edu-
cation, then, develops in the mind of each individual the wealth of culture
already accumulated. Once that education is properly oriented, it should
not simply work toward an increase in knowledge, but toward the trans-
formation of the latter into a spiritual capacity to comprehend and elabo-
rate the substance of every meaningful experience. Only by extracting
from traditional culture its most subtle essence and making it a basic ele-
ment of our spirit, can we speak of an “assimilation of culture.”
Each spirit needs for its development the support and stimulus of a
universal culture. It is therefore evident that the good intention of exam-
ining Mexican conscience may come to naught if we isolate it from the
outside world, closing our doors to every possible foreign influence, for
then we shall be left in the dark. The two extreme options in educational
method are equally injurious to the future of national culture. One is to
ignore Mexican reality altogether, which is what happened during the past
century, so as to obtain a European culture at the possible cost of
destroying our own ideas. The other is to deny categorically the signifi-
cance of European culture, in the utopian hope of creating a Mexican cul-
ture which of course could not grow out of nothing. We shall never be
able to decipher the mysteries of our being unless we can illuminate its
depths with a guiding ideal that can come only from Europe.
When we reach some understanding of the idiosyncrasies of our
national soul, we will have a standard to guide us through the complexi-
ties of European culture—which contains many important elements that
are of no interest to us. Only by scientific knowledge of the Mexican mind
will we have a basis for a systematic exploration of the maze of European
culture and a separation of those elements which can be assimilated to
our environment. Up to now, fashion has been the only arbiter for evalu-
ating the heterogeneous products of spiritual life in the Old World.
Lacking precise data on the nature of our soul, we have also lacked refer-
ence points for acquiring a Mexican perspective of European phenomena.
The idea of selecting conscientiously and methodically the forms of Euro-
pean culture potentially adaptable to our own environment has never
occurred to us. There is no doubt that such a system is possible, on the
basis of choosing certain instinctive affinities that persuade our race to
prefer certain cultural aspects over others. The hard thing is to distinguish
between genuine congenialities and certain misguided interests which
have nevertheless drawn our attention to culture. With the exception of an
insignificant minority, Mexicans up to now have not cared about getting
 Samuel Ramos 285

to the bottom of culture; instead, they have been content to stand aside,
dazzled by its brilliant outward effects.
In the future Mexico must have a Mexican culture, but we have no
illusions about its being original or unique. By Mexican culture we mean
universal culture made over into our own, the kind that can coexist with
us and appropriately express our spirit. Curiously enough, the only way
open to us—in order to shape this Mexican culture—is to continue
learning about European culture. Our race is a branch of a European race.
Our history has unfolded in a European manner. But we have not suc-
ceeded in forming our own culture, because we have separated culture
and life. We no longer want an artificial culture that lives like a hothouse
flower; we do not want a false Europeanism.
It is therefore essential to approach our problem in that modern spirit
which by reiteration has become trite: to relate culture to life. As far as sci-
entific knowledge is concerned, it is necessary to correlate continually the
study of universal scientific principles with a specific analysis of our own
reality. One reason for the hostility toward culture is the Mexican’s indi-
vidualistic character, resistant to all authority and to every standard.
Accordingly, to accept the idea of radical “nationalism” would be tanta-
mount to perpetuating the spiritual crisis; it would mean taking the path
of least resistance, so as to continue facile achievements, superficial obser-
vations, and fragmentary studies devoid of scientific rigor. To give sub-
stance to our spiritual work of the future, it will be necessary to prepare
our young people in schools and universities by means of an austere pro-
gram basically oriented toward discipline of the will and intelligence. Con-
crete knowledge is what should least concern us with regard to culture.
The critically important thing for Mexico now is to glean from culture as
much as it can of intellectual and moral discipline. When this is achieved
it will be possible to show that even those who reach the highest pinna-
cles of spiritual life need not, in their haughtiness, succumb to the error
of rejecting native values. On the contrary, their enlightenment will permit
them to comprehend and judge Mexican life more effectively.
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Jorge J. E. Gracia
(b. 1942)

Jez Gracia was born in Camagiiey, Cuba, and immigrated to the

United States in 1960, studying philosophy at Wheaton College, where
he received a BA, and then pursuing advanced study at the University of
Chicago, where in 1966 he received his master’s degree in philosophy.
Given his interest in medieval philosophy, he then attended the Pontifical
Institute of Mediaeval Studies in Toronto, Canada, where he received an
MSL in 1970. In 1971 he received his doctorate in philosophy at the Uni-
versity of Toronto. During this period he also studied at the Institut d’Es-
tudis Catalans in Barcelona, Spain.
Apart from numerous articles in professional journals in Latin
America, Europe, and the United States, Gracia has published many books
ranging in topics from technical issues of medieval philosophy (Introduc-
tion to the Problem of Individuation in the Early Middle Ages, 1984), to
hermeneutics (A Theory of Textuality: the Logic and Epistemology, 1995
and Texts: Ontological Status, Identity, Author, Audience, 1996), the rela-
tion between history and philosophy (Philosophy and Its History: Issues in
Philosophical Historiography, 1992), and metaphysics (Metaphysics and Its
Task: The Search for the Categorial Foundation of Knowledge, 1999). His
work Individuality: An Essay on the Foundations of Metaphysics (1988)
was awarded the Findley Prize in Metaphysics by the Metaphysical Society
of America.
Gracia is active not only in publishing but in serving the philosoph-
ical communitythrough his work on editorial boards (among others,
Revista Latinoamericana de Filosofia and Cuadernos de Etica) and the
committees of various professional associations (for example, the Amer-
ican Philosophical Association’s Committee for Hispanics, of which he

PROV!
288 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

was the founding chair from 1991 to 1995). He currently holds the Samuel
P. Capen Chair in the Department of Philosophy at the State University of
New York, Buffalo.
His devotion to Latin American philosophy is demonstrated by many
articles and edited collections and special journal issues. He collaborated
with Argentine philosopher Risieri Frondizi to produce a representative
anthology of Latin American philosophy El hombre y los valores en la
filosofia latinoamericana del siglo XX: Antologia (1975) of which the cur-
rent anthology is an expanded and translated version. With Ivan Jaksic,
Gracia published another anthology, Filosofia e identidad cultural en
América Latina (1988). With Eduardo Rabossi (Argentina), Enrique Villa-
nueva (Mexico), and Marcelo Dascal (Brazil/Israel), he edited Philosoph-
ical Analysis in Latin America (1984). This collection showed that the tra-
dition of philosophical analysis associated with Anglo-American philos-
ophy has strong roots in Latin America as well. One of the most
characteristic contributions of Gracia’s philosophical activity is the way in
which it serves as a crucial bridge between the Anglo and Latin American
philosophical worlds. His work has served to open the field of Latin Amer-
ican philosophy to scholars in the United States.
His most recent publications deal with the philosophical dimensions
of the problems facing Hispanics/Latinos in the United States. With Pablo
De Greiff, he edited the collection Hispanics/Latinos in the United States:
Ethnicity, Race, and Rights (2000). The selection included here is from his
recent book Hispanic Identity: A Philosophical Perspective (2001).
In this selection, Gracia argues that the terms “Latin American” and
“Latin America” are problematic and so is the term “Latino/a.” He argues
in favor of the use of the term “Hispanic” to reveal a social and historical
identity. According to Gracia, the term “Hispanic” captures an important
historical reality and allows us to speak of a common identity among all
Hispanics “without imposing a homogenous conception of who or what
we are.” Moreover, it permits multiplicity and development, recognizes
diversity, respects differences, acknowledges a common past, and “pre-
vents totalizing, homogenizing attitudes that could be used to oppress and
dominate.” Gracia uses a conceptual and historical analysis to argue for
the position that the concept of Hispanic identity arises not from common
properties or political needs but rather from a historical reality “which is
founded on diversity and mestizaje.” He argues that the conception of His-
panic identity he proposes is not hegemonic in that “it does not rule out
other identities,” but gives rise to a view of identity that is open and plu-
ralistic.
What Makes Hispanics/Latinos
Who We Are? The Key to Our
Unity in Diversity

Fe different types of objections [are frequently] raised against the

use of ethnic names for Hispanics/Latinos, but their general thrust
[is] the same: ethnic names are inaccurate and dangerous. One way to
answer these objections, then, albeit indirectly, is to show that at least one
of these names is neither inaccurate nor dangerous. This seems to be an
effective and economical way to proceed, and I have adopted it [here].
The features which make the use of ethnic names inaccurate and dan-
gerous are that they supposedly homogenize what is not homogeneous
and imply common characteristics when there are none. The view I pre-
sent here avoids both homogenization and the false identification of
common characteristics. This in turn should help avoid the dangers of
oppression, domination, discrimination, marginalization, and the
inequitable distribution of resources.
This way of proceeding is quite specific insofar as it deals with partic-
ular objections and proposes a way to understand the notion of Hispanic.
There are also general considerations which argue in favor of the adoption
of ethnic names by those named by them. Insofar as they tell us something
about those they name, ethnic names both identify them and have the
power to mold attitudes toward them. Epistemologically, they convey infor-
mation about those they name; ontologically, they help establish their iden-
tity. These can be harmful to the degree that ethnic names are used to
stereotype, objectify, and disempower. But they can also be beneficial
when ethnic names are the source of knowledge and empowerment.

From Jorge J. E. Gracia, Hispanic/Latino Identity: A Philosophical Perspective, chap. 3, “What

Makes Us Who We Are? The Key to Our Unity in Diversity” (Oxford: Blackwell, 2000),
pp. 45-69. Reprinted by permission of the author.

289
290 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

Whether the use of ethnic names is harmful or beneficial depends to

a large extent on at least three factors: (1) those who do the naming and
set the concomitantly required conditions; (2) the positive or negative
character of those conditions; and (3) the breadth and rigidity with which
the conditions are understood. Let us look at these in more detail.
The first factor is important because it is one thing to adopt a name
to identify ourselves, and quite another to be named and have our iden-
tity defined by someone else. Note that I say “define” rather than “estab-
lish” or “discover.” I do this because, for present purposes, I want to stay
away from the controversy between social constructivists and noncon-
structivists. The first argue that identities are the result of social construc-
tion; the latter, that they are the result of events outside the power of soci-
eties and, therefore, discovered rather than constructed. By using “define”
I intend to separate myself from either one of these extreme positions.
Indeed, my view is that group and ethnic identities are the result of both
social construction and factors outside the power of societies. Now,
leaving aside this issue, the point that needs to be emphasized is that to
adopt a name and define one’s identity is both a sign of power and an act
of empowerment. It is a sign of power because those without power do
not even have the prerogative of doing it; others establish how they are to
be called and who they are. In this, those without power are at the mercy
of those who establish what is important or pertinent in them. This has
serious consequences, for social perceptions change social realities. How
one is perceived determines how one is treated, and this in turn eventu-
ally affects who one is. Social perception is a factor in social change. Our
individual or group identity depends on others.
To adopt a name and define one’s identity is, moreover, an act of
empowerment because it limits the power of others to name and identify
us. It tells others: Look, I am who I am, and not who you think or want
me to be. I tell you who I am, and you have to honor this; you have no
power to tell me who I am, only I have such power. Indeed, it is not sur-
prising that Yahweh (“I am who I am”) is the name God chose for himself
in the Bible.
The second important factor in the adoption of ethnic names is the
positive or negative character of the name and the conditions associated
with the identity it defines. Obviously, a name whose connotations are
negative can do much harm, whereas one with positive connotations can
do much good. But keep in mind that the adoption or reassertion of names
with bad connotations by groups who have suffered discrimination can be
a sign of defiance and an act of empowerment when accompanied with
an appropriate understanding of the name. This is, for example, what has
happened with “Jew.” Thirty years ago, this term carried with it all sorts
of bad connotations among non-Jews, and for these reasons it was
 Jorge J. E. Gracia 291

avoided by those opposed to anti-Semitism, whether Jewish or not. Today,

however, the use of the term has become a sign of power and pride.
The third important factor in the adoption of ethnic names is the
rigidity and breadth with which the identity conditions they define are
understood. Part of the reason that the adoption of an ethnic name is
empowering is that it liberates those who adopt it from a relation of
dependence with those who do, or may, impose other names on them.
Naming ourselves and defining our identity may also imply liberation
insofar as it makes explicit prejudices that may hinder us from acting in
various ways, opening the way to discard those prejudices and change the
way we act. Knowing who we are can change not only the way others
think about us, and even how we think about ourselves, but also the
course of our actions in the future. But there is also a danger: A name and
the identity conditions it implies can function as limiting factors and as
sources of conflict if they are conceived too narrowly and restrictively. To
be something may be taken as making it impossible to be something else.
Recall the ancient Parmenidean conundrum: What is is, and what is not
is not. If a group is conceived as having certain abilities and limitations,
this may be used to close avenues of development and growth. For this
reason, the value of an ethnic name and the conditions of identity it
implies will depend on the breadth of those conditions and the rigidity
with which they are understood.
In short, then, the use of ethnic names and the definition of the con-
ditions of group identity can in principle be beneficial for the groups in
question. It is generally beneficial if three conditions are met: if the
naming and defining is done by the group; if the conditions used in the
definition are positive; and if the conditions are neither narrow nor rigid.
To this extent, the use of ethnic names and the corresponding self-identi-
fication are important insofar as they help establish self-meaning and
direction. Otherwise, the use of ethnic names and the definition of the
conditions of the group’s identity can do more harm than good. It is my
claim [here] that the name I propose for Hispanics/Latinos and the way I
conceive our identity are beneficial if measured by the requirements
noted.

THE ARGUMENT FOR HISPANIC IDENTITY

In order to support my thesis, I need to [bring out into the open] an

assumption that [is] behind the discussion of [identity]. According to this
assumption, the effective use of a common name requires the identifica-
tion of an essence, that is, a property or set of properties which charac-
terizes the things called by the name. If there is no essence that can be
292 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

identified, the name is meaningless, merely a sound without substance,

and therefore must be abandoned lest it should cause confusion.
Joined to this is another assumption frequently made by those who
discuss identity. This is that a proper identity corresponding to a name
should involve both consistency and purity. To have an identity requires
properties which constitute a coherent whole and are themselves unmixed.
The view that the effective use of names requires a property, or a set
of properties, that can be identified has been effectively challenged in con-
temporary philosophy. This does not mean that there are no names whose
use is justified by an essence. It means only that not all names are of the
same sort and, therefore, their use need not be justified in this way. Some
names are such that they can be effectively used even when there is no
property, or set of properties, they connote. Wittgenstein gave the example
of “game.” This term is effectively used in English and yet, when we try
to identify even one common property to all games that also distinguishes
them from other things, we can never find it. Some games use balls, some
do not; some games give pleasure, some do not; some games take a long
time, some do not; some games require concentration, some do not; some
games involve physical effort, some do not; and so on.
We can grant, then, that there are no common properties to all those
people whom we wish to call Hispanics, and yet that does not mean that
the use of the term is unjustified or meaningless. In general, my point is
that there is a way to understand the concept of Hispanic that allows us
to speak meaningfully of, and refer effectively to, Hispanics, even when
the people named by it do not share any property in common at all times
and places. More particularly, my thesis is that the concept of Hispanic
should be understood historically, that is, as a concept that involves his-
torical relations. Hispanics are the group of people comprised by the
inhabitants of the countries of the Iberian peninsula after 1492 and what
were to become the colonies of those countries after the encounter
between Iberia and America took place, and by descendants of these
people who live in other countries (e.g., the United States) but preserve
some link to those people. It excludes the population of other countries in
the world and the inhabitants of Iberia and Latin America before 1492
because, beginning in the year of the encounter, the Iberian countries and
their colonies in America developed a web of historical connections which
continues to this day and which separates these people from others.
This group of people must be understood as forming a unit which
goes beyond political, territorial, linguistic, cultural, racial, or genetic fron-
tiers. It is not even necessary that the members of the group name them-
selves in any particular way or have a consciousness of their identity.
Some of them may in fact consider themselves Hispanic and even have a
consciousness of their identity as a group, but it is not necessary that all
 Jorge J. E. Gracta 293

of them do. Knowledge does not determine being. What ties them
together, and separates them from others, is history and the particular
events of that history rather than the consciousness of that history; a
unique web of changing historical relations supplies their unity.
Obviously, historical relations tend to generate common properties,
but such properties might not go beyond certain periods, regions, or sub-
groups of people. There can be unity without community. A may follow
B, and B may follow C, and C may follow D, implying a connection
between A and D even when A has nothing in common with D. Let me
explain this further. Consider the case of A, B, C, and D. A has a relation
(aRb) with B; B has a relation (bRc) with C; and C has a relation (cRd)
with D. But there are no direct relations between A and C or D, or between
B and D. (In order to simplify matters I assume that the relation between
A and B is the same as the relation between B and A, and so on with the
others.) Now, the mentioned relations allow us to group A, B, C, and D
even though there is no property common to all of them, not even a rela-
tion that unites them directly. There is, however, a relation between A and
B, another between B and C, and another between C and D. At the same
time, these relations allow us to separate the group ABCD from other
groups, say MNOP, because none of the members of ABCD has relations
with the members of MNOP, or because the relations between A, B, C, and
D are different from the relations between M, N, O, and P. To group
implies to unite and separate, and to unite and separate are made easy
when it is done in terms of properties common to all the members of a
group, but it is not necessary that it be done on the basis of such proper-
ties. It can be done on the basis of properties or relations that are not
common to all the members of the group as long as there are relations or
properties that tie each member of the group with at least one other
member of the group.
This is the kind of unity that I submit justifies the notion of Hispanic.
We are speaking here of a group of people who have no common elements
considered as a whole. Their unity is not a unity of commonality; it is a
historical unity founded on relations. King John I of Portugal has nothing
in common with me, but both of us are tied by a series of events that
relate us and separate us from Queen Elizabeth II and Martin Luther King.
There is no need to find properties common to all Hispanics in order to
classify them as Hispanics. What ties us is the same kind of thing that ties
the members of a family, as Wittgenstein would say. There may not be any
common properties to all of us, but nonetheless we belong to the same
group because we are historically related, as a father is to a daughter, an
aunt to a nephew, and grandparents to grandchildren. Wittgenstein’s
metaphor of family resemblance is particularly appropriate in this case,
for the history of Hispanics is a history of a group of people, a community
294 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

united by historical events. But the metaphor of the family must be taken
broadly to avoid any understanding of it as requiring genetic ties. One
does not need to be tied genetically to the other members of a family to
be a member of the family. Indeed, the very foundation of a family, mar-
riage, takes place between people who are added to a family through con-
tract, not genesis. And in-laws become members of families indirectly,
again not through genesis. This means that the very notion of resemblance
used by Wittgenstein is misleading insofar as it appears to require a
genetic connection which in fact is not required at all. It also means that
any requirements of coherence and purity do not apply. Families are not
coherent wholes composed of pure elements. They include contradictory
elements and involve mixing. Indeed, contradiction and mixing seem to
be of the essence, for a living unity is impossible without contradiction
and heterogeneity. We are related clusters of persons with different, and
sometimes incompatible, characteristics, and purity of any kind is not one
of our necessary conditions. This is why families are in a constant process
of change and adaptation. My claim is that this is how we should under-
stand ourselves as Hispanics.
Now, families are formed by marriages. So we are entitled to ask: Is
there a point in history where our Hispanic family came to be? Since our
community includes not only the inhabitants of the Iberian peninsula, but
also those of the parts of America appropriated by Iberian countries, we
must find a point in history when we came together, and this, I propose,
is the encounter of Iberia and America. It makes no sense to speak of His-
panics before the encounter in 1492. Our family first came into being pre-
cisely because of the events which the encounter unleashed.
In spite of all that has been said, one can still question the need or
advantage of using the category “Hispanic.” If there are no common prop-
erties to all Hispanics, what can we get out of an account of Hispanics that
is not already present in accounts of the countries and the peoples that are
gathered under this category? In short, by using this term can we get to
know anything that we do not already know through the study of, say, the
Spanish, Catalan, Mexican, Argentinian, and Hispanic American peoples?
My answer to this question is that in this way we understand better a his-
torical reality which otherwise would escape us.
The study of people involves the study of their relations, how they
influence each other. In particular, a historical account must pay careful
attention to the events and figures that played important roles in history,
avoiding artificial divisions in the account. Keeping this in mind, I submit
that the notion of Hispanic represents, better than any other, the people of
the Iberian nations and of Latin American countries that were former
Iberian colonies, as well as the descendants of these people who live else-
where but maintain close ties to them, because it emphasizes the fact that
 JorgeJ. E. Gracia 295

there is a historical reality that unites us. To divide Hispanics in terms of

political, territorial, racial, linguistic, ethnic, genetic, or cultural criteria
results in the loss of many dimensions of this historical reality.
The concept of Hispanic allows us to see aspects of our reality that
would otherwise be missed. They would be missed to a great extent
because the conceptual frameworks used would be either too broad or too
narrow to allow us to see them. Earlier I pointed out that concepts are
windows to reality. The concept of Hispanic is indeed a window to the his-
tory of a chapter in universal human history, our history. In the vast
panorama of humankind, it introduces a frame that directs the attention
of the observer toward something that, under different conditions, would
be given little attention, or missed altogether, because of the vastness of
the view. Thanks to it, we see more of less. “Hispanic” opens for us a
window to ourselves which yields knowledge we would otherwise not
have. At the same time, it allows us to notice things which we would miss
if we used narrower concepts such as Mexican, Argentinian, Spanish, and
so on. These are also windows, but like any window, they reveal some-
thing by excluding something else. By using these narrower categories, we
would be losing a larger view. The use of “Hispanics,” then, reveals some-
thing unique by narrowing and widening our view at the same time.
This does not mean that the use of the term should be exclusionary.
To speak and think about Hispanics should not prevent us from speaking
and thinking in other ways as well, that is, from using other principles of
organization, and therefore from including the consideration of other uni-
ties. For these other organizations and unities will surely explain, empha-
size, and reveal other facts which, under different arrangements, would go
unnoticed. We need not look out only through one window. My point is
that the perspective based on the notion I have proposed explains, empha-
sizes, and reveals aspects of our reality which would otherwise be
neglected. I do not mean to exclude other arrangements. Indeed, there are
many other enlightening ways of thinking about the reality comprised
under the term “Hispanic.” We could think in regional terms, such as
Latin American, Iberian, Central American, and South American; in lin-
guistic terms, such as Quechua, Castilian, and Basque; in political terms,
such as Brazilian or Mexican; and so on. And all these would, if the
notions are historically warranted, reveal to us aspects of the Hispanic
reality which, under different conceptions, would be overlooked.
In short, my proposal is to adopt “Hispanic” to refer to us: the people
of Iberia, Latin America, and some segments of the population in the
United States, after 1492, and to the descendants of these peoples any-
where in the world as long as they preserve close ties to them. Moreover,
I have argued that the use of this term does not imply that there are any
properties common to all of us throughout history. Its use is justified
296 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

rather by a web of concrete historical relations that ties us together, and

simultaneously separates us from other peoples.
Note, moreover, that the use of “Hispanic” is not intended to reflect
just that some persons choose to call themselves Hispanics. Applying a
contemporary name theory to ethnic names, it is sometimes argued that
self-naming (or self-identification, as it is often put) is both a necessary
and sufficient condition of the appropriate use of an ethnic name. If I
choose to call myself Hispanic, others should call me so. But, in fact, self-
naming is neither necessary nor sufficient in this way. It is not sufficient
because the use of a name calls for a rationale of its use. There must be a
reason why I choose to call myself Hispanic. And it is not necessary
because, even if I do not choose to call myself Hispanic, it may be appro-
priate to call me so. Indeed, there are names we reject even though we
deserve them. Not many criminals, for example, would be willing to call
themselves criminals even though the epithet may be appropriate. The
theory I have proposed does not face these objections for, although it does
not accept that there are common properties to all Hispanics at all times
and in all places, it allows for common properties at certain times and
places arising from particular historical relations. My view, then, does not
suffer from emptiness or circularity.
Now we must go back to the question of identity and see the impli-
cations of what has been said concerning the use and understanding of
“Hispanic” for this question. . . . [I]dentity and identification [have] to do
with sets of necessary and sufficient conditions which could be under-
stood achronically, synchronically, or diachronically. Achronically, the set
of conditions in question would make explicit why something is whatever
it is irrespective of time; synchronically, the set of conditions would reveal
why something is whatever it is at a particular time; and diachronically,
the set of conditions would specify what makes something whatever it is
at two or more different times. The achronic identity of Hispanics, then,
involves the properties which make Hispanics who we are, apart from any
consideration of time; synchronic identity involves such properties at a
particular time; and diachronic identity has to do with such properties at
two (or more) different times.
The question is: Are there such conditions? Does it make sense to talk
about an achronic Hispanic identity, a synchronic Hispanic identity, or a
diachronic Hispanic identity? It should be clear that, achronically and
strictly, it makes no sense to speak of any set of necessary and sufficient
conditions which apply to all Hispanics, for as I have argued, Hispanics
do not share any properties in common which they must have and which
distinguish them from others. Nonetheless, it does make sense to speak of
an achronic Hispanic identity in the sense mentioned earlier, based on his-
torical, familial relations, rather than on relations of commonality.
 Jorge J. E. Gracia 297

Synchronically, again, the issue is not simple. There is no reason why,

in principle, all Hispanics could not have some properties in common
which tie them together and distinguish them from others at some partic-
ular time. But the reality appears different. For Hispanic ties, even at a par-
ticular time, tend to be familial and historical rather than across the board.
Every Hispanic group is tied to some other Hispanic group, but no His-
panic group is tied to all other Hispanic groups in the same way.
Finally, diachronically, a similar phenomenon occurs. There are easily
discernible resemblances among those we count as Hispanics at different
times, but those resemblances tend to be historical and familial, rather
than based on common properties. Throughout our history, Hispanics dis-
play the kind of unity characteristic of families rather than the unity char-
acteristic of sets or classes based on shared properties.
In this, Hispanics appear to be different from Asians and Asian Amer-
icans, Africans and African Americans, and Amerindians and Native
Americans. Asians are, like Hispanics, divided into many subgroups—
Koreans, Chinese, Japanese, Malaysians, and so on—but unlike Hispanics,
these groups do not easily form a historical family in the way Hispanics
do. Indeed, rather than one family, they appear to be clusters of families
only occasionally related to each other. And the same can be said about
Africans and Amerindians. Apart from superficial and controversial uni-
fying factors, such as territory and race, Africans and Amerindians seem
to constitute clusters of largely independent groups.
The situation of Hispanics is also different from the situation of Asian
Americans, African Americans, and Native Americans. Asian Americans
generally reflect the diversity of their origins and cultures without a strong
historical tie to unite them. In this case, then, a common name is partic-
ularly artificial. The situation with African Americans is just the reverse.
The Africans who were brought into the United States were as diverse as
the Asians; they came from different parts of Africa, from different
nations, and from different cultures. But here they were forced to homog-
enize. Culturally, they were beaten into a pulp to such an extent that some
of their most idiosyncratic characteristics were obliterated, or nearly oblit-
erated: their language, values, religion, and so on. The case of Native
Americans resembles that of Asians, for this group is composed of sub-
groups which have very little to do with each other except in a remote
origin. What do Seminoles, Mohicans, Apaches, and Pueblos have to do
with each other? The lumping together of all these under the label “Native
Americans” is just as artificial as the lumping of Vietnamese, Chinese,
Koreans, and other groups who live in the United States, under the label
“Asian Americans.”
In contrast with Asian Americans and Native Americans, Hispanics
have a historical tie that unites them and, in contrast with African Amer-
298 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

icans, they lack the homogenization that characterizes them to a large

extent. History ties Hispanics together in a way that is missing in the cases
of Asians, Asian Americans, Africans, Amerindians, and Native Ameri-
cans. There is a sense in which Hispanics all over the world belong
together that does not apply to Asians, Africans, and Amerindians. There
are perhaps stronger physical ties between all Africans, including African
Americans, and between all Asians, including Asian Americans, and
between all Amerindians, including Native Americans, than between His-
panics, including Hispanic Americans. But there is a historical and familial
element which is absent in Asians, Africans, and Amerindians which is
strongly evident among all Hispanics.

TWO INITIAL OBJECTIONS

There are at least two serious objections to the view I have proposed that
I must take up. The first attacks my view by arguing that it does not do
justice to the fact that Hispanics are, indeed, different from other groups,
and that this difference cannot be explained merely in terms of historical
connections. Hispanics are different from the Chinese, the French, and
certainly Anglo-Saxon Americans, so the argument goes. We can tell who
is and who is not Hispanic and we are quite aware of the differences that
separate us from other groups. A good explanation of these differences
must refer to deep ways of thinking and acting. It will not do to argue, as
I have done, that there are actually no properties that Hispanics have in
common, for if this were the case, then it would not be possible, as it in
fact is, to tell us apart from others. Of course, uncovering such common
properties might be difficult, or even factually impossible at times, but
that does not entail that such properties do not exist. That those which
have been suggested thus far do not work does not entail that the task is
logically impossible.
The answer to this objection is that I do not claim that there are no
common properties to Hispanics and, therefore, that we can never in fact
tell Hispanics apart from other groups. Rather, I have argued that there are
no properties common to all Hispanics at all times and in all places that are
discernible. This view does not prevent one from holding that there are
properties common to some Hispanics at all times and in all places, at all
times and in some places, or at some times and in all places; or properties
common to all Hispanics at all times and in some places, or at some times
and in all places. Nor can my position be construed as implying even that
there are no common properties to Hispanics at all times and places. My
point is only that there are no properties which can be shown to be
common to all Hispanics at all times and in all places. Indeed, I believe
 JorgeJ. E. Gracia 299

there are properties common to Hispanics at some times and in some

places and it is precisely such properties that serve to identify us at those
times and in those places. At every time and in every period, some His-
panics have properties that tie them among themselves and distinguish
them from other groups, but these properties do not necessarily extend
beyond those times and places and, indeed, they do not need to extend
beyond them to account for our identity and distinction from other groups.
At any particular time and place, there are familial relations that His-
panics share and which both distinguish us from non-Hispanics and are
the source of properties which also can be used to distinguish us from
non-Hispanics. Particular physical characteristics, cultural traits, language,
and so on, can serve to distinguish Hispanics in certain contexts, although
they cannot function as criteria of distinction and identification every-
where and at all times. In a place where all and only Hispanics speak
Spanish, for example, the language can function as a sufficient criterion of
Hispanic identification even if, in other places, it does not. Likewise, in a
society or region where all and only Hispanics have a certain skin color,
or a certain religion, and so on, these properties can be used to pick out
Hispanics, even if elsewhere there are Hispanics who do not share these
properties. Even though Hispanics do not constitute a homogeneous
group, then, particular properties can be used to determine who counts as
Hispanic in particular contexts. Hispanic identity does not entail a set of
common properties which constitutes an essence, but this does not stand
in the way of identification. We can determine who counts as Hispanic in
context. Just as we generally and easily can tell a game from something
that is not a game, we can tell a Hispanic from a non-Hispanic in most
instances. But there will be, as with games, borderline cases and cases
which overlap.
In the case of Hispanics in the United States in particular, there are
added reasons that facilitate an answer to the question, Who counts as
Hispanic? Two of these may be considered. First, we are treated as a
homogeneous group by European Americans and African Americans; and
second, even though Hispanics do not constitute a homogeneous group,
we are easily contrasted with European and African Americans because
we do not share many of the features commonly associated with these
groups. Our identification in the United States, then, is not just possible,
but relatively unproblematic.
This clarification of my position serves also to answer the second
objection mentioned earlier. This objection argues that the criterion for
Hispanic identity I have proposed is too weak because it could describe a
situation in which only a single property is shared by any two individuals,
and that would not be enough to set the group apart from other groups.
Consider two groups of, say, six individuals each which we wish to dis-
300 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

tinguish from each other: Group 1 is composed of members A, B, C, D, E,

and F. And group 2 is composed of members G, H, I, J, K, and L. Now,
according to the view I have proposed, there would be nothing wrong
with a situation in which each of the members of each group had only two
properties. For the first group the properties would be as follows (in paren-
theses): A(a, b), B(b, c), C(c, d), D(d, e), E(e, f), and F(f, g). For the
second group the properties would be as follows: G(g, h), H(h, 0, 1% 7),
J(j, kK), K(k, D, and L(l, m). Now, the point to note is that the last member
of the first group has one property in common with the first member of
the second group. The significance of this fact is that this makes the break
between the two groups arbitrary. That is, there is no more reason to end
the first group with F and to begin the second group with G than to end
the first group with B and begin the second group with C. True, the set of
properties of the first group (a, b, c, d, e, f, and g) is different from the set
of properties (g, h, i, j, k, and J) of the second. But the fact that there is at
least one common property (g) between the first and the second group
makes the break into the two groups arbitrary, for we could say that the
first group, rather than being composed of A, B, C, D, E, and F, is com-
posed of A, B, C, D, and E; and the second group, rather than being com-
posed of G, H, I, J, K, and L, is composed of F, G, H, I, J, K, and L. And,
of course, other combinations and breakdowns would also be possible.
The situation is even more serious when one considers that in reality
the members of any group, and certainly the members of a group such as
Hispanics, share not one, but more than one property with members of
other groups that presumably we want to distinguish, as groups, from the
group of Hispanics. In short, the view I have presented, so the objection
goes, is too weak.
One way to answer this second objection is to modify the view I have
proposed as follows. Instead of speaking of members of a group, each of
which shares at least one property with at least one other member of the
group, propose a set of properties several of which are shared by each
member of the group. We could call this position the Common-Bundle
View. Say that we identify a group with six members: A, B, C, D, E, and
F. And let us propose a set of six properties also: a, b, c, d, e, and f.
According to this view each member of the group would have several of
these properties as, for instance: A (a, b), B(a, b, e, f), C(c, d, f), D(b, c,
d, e, f), E(a, e), and F(b, e, f). The advantages of this answer should be
obvious. Here we have a stronger position and one that can solve the
weaknesses pointed out earlier. Clearly, now we have a tighter bond
between the members of the group we want to distinguish, and we can
also easily set the group apart from other groups by simply showing how
individuals who are not members of the group do not have any, or a suf-
ficient number, of the set of properties used to define the group.
 Jorge J. E. Gracia 301

Now let us apply the Common-Bundle View to Hispanics and say that
there is a set of twelve properties several of which all Hispanics have (the
selection presented here is purely arbitrary and should be given no signif-
icance): speaker of Iberian language, Iberian descent, born in Iberia, born
in Latin America, Amerindian descent, African descent, citizen of Iberian
country, citizen of Latin American country, resident in Iberian country,
resident in Latin American country, Iberian surname, lover of Latin Amer-
ican music. Using this criterion, Juan de los Palostes qualifies as Hispanic
because he is of Iberian descent, was born in Latin America, and speaks
Spanish. His daughters also qualify because they speak Spanish, are of
Iberian descent, have Spanish surnames, and love Latin music, although
they were not born and do not reside in an Iberian or a Latin American
country. And some children from Anglo-American fathers and Latin Amer-
ican mothers who do not speak Spanish and were born in the United
States can also be considered Hispanic because of their partial Latin Amer-
ican descent and their love of Latin American music. At the same time we
can distinguish this group from those who might have one of these prop-
erties, say that they speak an Iberian language or were born in Latin
America, but do not have any other. Moreover, it would exclude, for
example, children of Anglo-Saxon missionaries in Latin America and
African Americans who have learned Portuguese in school.
Clearly, adopting the Common-Bundle View is a promising way of
answering the objection against my original position, the Historical-Family
View. And there is in fact no reason why it cannot be integrated into my
view, except that, upon further reflection, there are problems with it. I see
three difficulties in particular that make me hesitate. First, there is the
problem of determining the particular set of properties we should identify
as pertinent. How and on what bases do we decide on the set of proper-
ties which Hispanics share? Indeed, even in the rather innocuous list I pro-
vided as an illustration, there are some properties that are bound to create
difficulties. For example, why should the child of Anglo-Saxon American
missionaries who was born in Colombia, holds Colombian citizenship,
and speaks some Spanish, not be considered Hispanic? And we might
keep in mind the problems raised earlier concerning political, territorial,
cultural, racial, and other such properties.
A second problem with this way of answering the objection that
should also be obvious from the example is that, even if we were able to
settle on a satisfactory list of properties some of which all Hispanics share,
we have no easy way of determining the number of these properties
required for someone to qualify as Hispanic. Two? Three? Four? Twenty?
And does it make a difference which properties are involved? In the ear-
lier example, does it make a difference whether we include love of Latin
American music and Amerindian descent or not? Indeed, are two of some
302 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

kinds of properties sufficient (e.g., lover of Latin American music and

Amerindian descent), whereas of other kinds three or four are needed?
Obviously, this complicates matters tremendously, and it is not clear on
what basis a decision can be reached.
The third problem is still more vexing. It has to do with the fact that,
even if we were able to settle on a set of properties and on the number
that need to be shared, this could turn out to be of use only for the past
and the present and not the future. We do not know what properties will
be pertinent for Hispanic identity in the future. The set of properties which
Hispanics share could change, and so could the proportion of properties
necessary for qualification. After all, we are speaking of a historical
reality, and historical realities are in a constant process of change. Our
identity is flexible and subject to evolution and transformation. We can
easily illustrate this point with a reference to language. Suffice it to say
that the English spoken in the Middle Ages would be unintelligible to an
American today, and yet we still consider it to be English. So, whatever
we think pertinent for Hispanic identity in the past and present could in
time change. If tigers can be bred to lose their stripes, there is no reason
why Hispanics could not become quite different than they are today or
were in the past.
In short, the view we have been discussing as an answer to the second
objection is simply too unhistorical and inflexible. There cannot be a fixed
list of properties in which Hispanics share. There can be, of course, a list
at any time, but the list must always remain open-ended. This is why it is
still better to think in terms of history and family ties rather than in terms
of a list of properties. Hispanics are part of a historical reality and, there-
fore, the criteria to identify them must take cognizance of that fact. Note
that I began by allowing the possibility that in principle there could be
such a list of properties even if we cannot identify it. Now, however, it
should be clear that I am not willing to allow the possibility of such a list
even in principle. This does not mean, however, that Hispanics cannot be
identified as such in particular contexts. Even though there are no essen-
tial properties, there can be criteria in context. Consider, for example, that
knowing how to swim is not an indication of being human. But in a place
where only humans know how to swim and all humans know how to
swim, knowing how to swim can function effectively as a criterion of
being human.

ANSWERS TO [OTHER] OBJECTIONS

The view I have presented here takes care, I believe, of [many commonly
voiced] objections against the use of “Hispanic”... but it does not
 Jorge J. E, Gracia 303

answer all the objections [that have been] raised. Indeed, it does not deal
with [one of] the most serious objections that [has been] presented
against it: “Hispanic” is repugnant because of what Iberians, and particu-
larly Spaniards, did to Amerindian populations, and it is particularly
repugnant to Hispanic Americans from the southwest of the United States
because it is the term used by an ethnocentric and racist group to distin-
guish itself from mestizos and Mexican Americans; “Hispanic” unfairly
privileges Spanish, Iberian, and European elements to the detriment of
Amerindian and African ones; “Hispanic” perpetuates or tends to perpet-
uate the submission of America to Europe, and particularly of Latin
America to Spain; and, finally, “Hispanic” is a deprecatory term whose
use serves only to degrade us in the eyes of others and to put obstacles in
the way of our social acceptance and development.
These objections, although appearing very powerful prima facie,
when examined more carefully reveal that they are based in part on mis-
information, prejudice, and ignorance. Moreover, they result in the same
sort of bias and discrimination they are aimed to prevent, although those
who suffer such bias and discrimination are not the same people. Indeed,
these objections presuppose the same totalizing and exclusionary princi-
ples against which they are formulated.
Consider, for example, that these objections reject “Hispanic” because
they identify everything that is Hispanic with racial purity, Eurocentrism,
exploitation, and oppression. But Hispania has been from the very begin-
ning a place where Europe and other parts of the world meet. The Iberian
peninsula is eminently mestiza, both racially and culturally. From its ear-
liest history this piece of European land has been the place where Africa,
Europe, and the Middle East have met and mingled in every possible way.
Indeed, some have gone so far as to say that Spain is a part of Africa rather
than Europe. It is a misconception to think of anything Hispanic as exclu-
sively European or exclusively Caucasian, even if “Hispanic” is restricted
to what is Iberian. A short trip through certain parts of Spain and Portugal
should quickly disabuse anyone, who has eyes to see, from this prejudice.
So much then for the connotation of racial purity or Eurocentrism. After
1492, it makes little sense to speak of Iberian purity, a culture separate
and distinct from that of Latin America.
As far as the identification of “Hispanic” with oppression and
exploitation, again this charge is partly based on both ignorance and prej-
udice. Mind you, I do not agree with the fallacious argument that we
should not blame the conquistadors for the atrocities they committed
because others did it too. This kind of reasoning is not only fallacious, but
pernicious, even though it seems to carry quite a bit of weight in some
quarters. My argument is rather that to blame all Iberians for the crimes
of a few is as unjustified as saying that all Mexicans are lazy because a
304 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

few are, that all Colombians are drug traffickers because a few are, or that
no Cuban is serious because there are some who are not. These general-
izations are false, and not only that, they are malicious and nefarious. But
just as malicious and nefarious is the one that lumps all Iberians together
into one group of monsters. Atrocities were committed in the encounter,
but many of these atrocities were denounced from the very beginning by
Iberians themselves. Indeed, the great names of Bartolomé de Las Casas,
Juan de Zumdrraga, and Vasco de Quiroga should be sufficient to show
that not all Iberians were monsters and that many prominent ones took
up the cause of the natives and the oppressed. Nor can it be said with
impunity that even the Iberian governments were completely biased and
generally silenced dissenters. The famous disputation between Las Casas
and Septilveda shows that there was concern among some members of the
Spanish government to do the right thing, or at least to provide a forum
for dissenters. Indeed, at a time when the world in general had little
awareness of the rights of conquered and oppressed peoples, some laws
were enacted in Spain and Portugal for the protection of Amerindians and
of African slaves, indicating that at least some Iberians were concerned
about their welfare. Moreover, philosophers like Vitoria and Suarez openly
and unambiguously tried to think through all the issues that the encounter
with America brought up without considerations of profit or power.
So, no, not all Iberians are to be blamed and regarded as evil. There-
fore, “Hispanics” need not denote only bad guys and connote only what
was evil about some Iberians. Indeed, the selfless sacrifices of many who
tried to mitigate the effects of what was, without a doubt, a tragic catas-
trophe of epic proportions, cannot, because of that, be ignored or disre-
garded. Most identities have been forged in blood, but it is not the blood
alone that counts. Besides, there are countless cases, both in Latin
America and the United States, where Iberians have been key players in
the advancement of non-Iberian Hispanics. It makes no sense to demonize
all Iberians because of the sins of some of them.
But this is not all, for what are we going to do with the many residents
of the Iberian peninsula who had nothing to do with the conquest of
America? What about the farmers, the members of the small bourgeoisie,
the maids and servants? What about the Catalans, who, because of an
agreement between Isabella and Ferdinand, were largely kept out of
America? And what about the descendants of those people who now live
in Spain or Portugal and never had anything to do with the conquest and
colonization of America? Are they also to be rejected, repelled, and
blamed? They are as Hispanic as the conquistadors and yet they have
nothing to do with the atrocities committed by them. So why should “His-
panic” be rejected simply because of what some Iberians did between
1500 and 1900? We certainly do not change our last name every time a
 Jorge J. E. Gracta 305

member of our family does something reprehensible. And few, if any,

Americans today would reject the term “American” merely because some
Americans committed atrocities against some segments of the American
population at some point in the history of the United States. There is
something drastically wrong with judgments based on faulty logic, and
the faulty logic in this case is the understanding of the connotation of a
term based on properties which apply only to some of the members of the
set the term names.
Moreover, why should “Hispanic” be associated only with Iberia, or
even more narrowly, Spain or Castile? That Castilians appropriated the
name for themselves because of their aggressive and imperialistic
behavior should not force others to surrender their rights to bear the
name. I refuse to give up what is mine by right, even if others can be
easily convinced to do so. I am Hispanic, but not Castilian or Spanish. I
speak Castilian, not Spanish, but with a Cuban accent. And in being His-
panic I share with Catalans, Basques, Galicians, Portuguese, Andalucians,
Mayans, Aztecs, Argentinians, Brazilians, and some Africans, among
many others, a history which ties us together in a plurality of ways.
That certain ethnocentric and racist groups in the southwest of the
United States appropriated the term “Hispanics” and used it to distance
themselves from mestizos and Mexican Americans, out of racist concerns,
and that other groups elsewhere also do so for similar reasons, should not
be sufficient reason for us to acquiesce. First of all, ethnic and racial purity
is a myth when it comes to Hispanics of any kind. We are not pure in any
meaningful sense of the word. So it makes very little sense to use “His-
panic,” or any other term for that matter, to indicate the purity of any of
our groups. Second, if not absolute purity, but merely Spanish purity is
involved, namely, pure unmixed Spanish ancestry, then “Hispanic” is the
wrong term to use. The right term is “Spanish” or “of Spanish descent.”
“Hispanic” connotes mixture and derivation, as we saw in one of the other
objections voiced earlier. “Hispanic” in this sense is like “Hellenistic,” not
like “Greek.” Third, although there is considerable racism among Latin
Americans, Iberians, and Hispanic Americans, this has never reached the
levels it reached among Anglo-Saxons in the United States. After all, it was
after and because of the annexation of the Mexican southwest by the
United States, and the immigration of Anglo Americans into the newly
acquired territories, that an attempt was made by certain groups to dis-
tinguish themselves from mestizos and Mexicans, precisely because Anglo
Americans made Mexican Americans feel inferior.
As I said, there is considerable racism in Latin America. Generally, the
darker one is, the worse one is. But there is not a great deal of favoritism
toward Iberians either. Spaniards in particular are often regarded as
uncouth, ignorant, provincial, and inflexible by Latin Americans. To be
306 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

Spanish or Iberian is not a status symbol, but quite the contrary. White-
ness that comes from English, German, and French origins is more cov-
eted, however. So we find the common custom of tacking some English,
German, or French name from a distant ancestor to the Spanish last name
in order to emphasize the non-Iberian, European connection. To have Eng-
lish, German, or French blood really counts.
Even more significant is that there is no distinction between Hispanics
and mestizos in Latin America. Latin Americans have made distinctions
between whites, blacks, Indians, mestizos, castizos, mulattos, criollos, and
various other labels at various times in history, but some of these terms
are more cultural than racial, and to my knowledge the term hispano has
never been used to distinguish upper-class pure descendants of Spaniards
from mestizos, Indians, blacks, or mulattos. This phenomenon is Amer-
ican, and a result of Anglo-American racism.
My thesis can also be used to answer the third objection, namely, that
the use of “Hispanic” should help perpetuate a sense of cultural sub-
servience in America toward Europe in general and Spain in particular. If
the notion of Hispanic does not connote a particular set of properties, it
cannot be argued that it necessarily connotes anything European or
Spanish. True, some may understand it so, but this is inaccurate, and
should not deter us from using a name which can otherwise be useful and
whose justification is rooted in history. African Americans should not
cease to call themselves so because some, or even many, think “African”
means racially or culturally inferior; Jews should not cease to call them-
selves so because some, or even many, associate that term with negative
qualities; and we should not surrender “Hispanic” because some, or even
many, mistakenly think it means Spanish.
This leads me to the last objection, that the use of “Hispanics” is
counterproductive because it is associated with negative traits. Again, that
some people put the wrong spin on certain terms should not make us
avoid them if those terms reflect something historically important about
us. Indeed, I am not sure that name changes are a good thing. Are we
going to change our name every time someone decides to use it nega-
tively? And is not something important lost every time a name is changed?
Doesn’t a name change often create unnecessary division and dissension
in the community whose name is being changed? Should we not rather
concentrate on defending the historical bases of the term? A term like
“Hispanics,” which makes historical sense, should be kept even if some
people choose to interpret it negatively. Rather than dropping it, we
should wear it with a certain defiance and assertion; this will eventually
do more for our image than a change of name. We need to change people’s
attitudes toward us rather than acquiesce to the rules of a game they
impose on us; and a name can be an effective tool in this task.
 JorgeJ. E. Gracta 307

This does not mean that the community to which I refer as Hispanics
is here to stay forever, or that it is a closed community which allows no
one to leave or enter it. We cannot deny the past. If we have been part of
that community, we will always have been part of it—this should not need
to be stated—but to be part of it, or to have been part of it, does not entail
continuing being part of it in the future. And not to have been part of it in
the past does not preclude the possibility of joining it in the future. Com-
munities are fluid, open, forever changing; members come and go, enter
and leave, as they forge new relations with others. I am no historicist. We
are not trapped in our history, albeit history cannot be denied. Nor am I
proposing a kind of neo-essentialism. There is no essence here; there is
only a complex historical reality. Only a misguided sense of identity, based
on notions of coherence and purity, leads to essentialistic conceptions of
ethnicity.

CONCLUSION

In conclusion, the category “Hispanic” is useful to describe and under-

stand ourselves. It also serves to describe much of what we produce and
do, for this product and these actions are precisely the results of who we
are, and we are in turn the result of our history. “Hispanic” is a term that
serves a purpose today, and will continue to serve a purpose in the study
of our past. It is possible, however, that at some future time it could cease
to be useful for the description of a reality current at the time. The term
is justified now because of a historical reality, that is, the relations among
us; if those relations should diminish considerably or cease altogether,
then the term could become obsolete. The extension of the term should
not be understood to be hard and fast, for human relations are anything
but that. There is constant regrouping, and our understanding of these
relations requires the constant realignment of our conceptual framework.
For the moment, however, there is use for “Hispanic.”
The strength of the position I have presented here lies precisely in that
it allows us to speak of a common identity to all Hispanic/Latinos without
imposing a homogeneous conception of who or what we are. It is an open-
ended, historically based conception of our identity which permits multi-
plicity and development. It recognizes our diversity; it respects our differ-
ences; it acknowledges our past; and it prevents totalizing, homogenizing
attitudes that could be used to oppress and dominate all or some of us. It
is meant to provide understanding in the recognition of both the strength
and weakness of our ties.
Part of my task has been to do a bit of conceptual analysis to clear the
way for a more precise understanding of a notion that I think can be used
308 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

to refer to all of us. Moreover, I have tried to show how there are histor-
ical grounds for accepting my conclusions. My argument has been in fact,
contrary to what some believe, that the use of “Hispanic,” as I have under-
stood it here, does not strip us of our historical identity, reduce us to
imputed common traits, or imply our false homogenization. Indeed, |
have argued just the reverse, for it is my position that the use of “His-
panic,” rightly understood, helps us respect diversity, is faithful to our his-
torical reality, and leaves the doors open to development in many direc-
tions. Moreover, the lack of a homogeneous conception should be suffi-
cient to preclude oppressive and discriminatory uses of “Hispanic.” My
most powerful answer to the objection against the use of “Hispanic,” or
any other ethnic name, to refer to us, is that “Hispanic” works by helping
us understand the bases for the identity of our ethnic family.
Note also that I have stayed away from the political argument some
use in support of a single name for all Hispanics in the American context.
According to this argument, Hispanic Americans need a common name to
strengthen our political clout. A large group has more muscle than a small
one. The overarching notion of Hispanic (or Latino, for that matter)
should make the rest of the United States take us seriously.
This is, indeed, a strong argument that has been routinely voiced by
those who favor a single name for Hispanic Americans. The problem with
it is that it does not properly take into account the diverse character and
needs of the various groups which are covered by the name. Politically, the
name does not produce the right results and may in fact be counterpro-
ductive. Puerto Ricans do not have the same needs as Chicanos, or Argen-
tinians as Venezuelans, for example. Whether we speak of international or
national politics, the use of one name need not be a good thing if the
proper emphasis on the diversity among Hispanic groups is not main-
tained. The justification for one name should not be based on politics, but
on historical fact, and should recognize that a common name for all His-
panics does not arise from common properties or political needs, but from
a historical reality which is founded on diversity and mestizaje. This leads
us directly to the consideration of the origins of our identity. .. .
Note that the objections [often] raised against the use of “Hispanic”
work also against some labels proposed by those who oppose it. Terms
such as “Latin American” and “Latin America” are very problematic, and
if this is the case, so is “Latino/a.” Indeed, even more restrictive terms
based on national origins, favored by some groups opposed to “Hispanic,”
are questionable. For the countries of Latin America, like other countries
of the world, are to a large extent artificially created. Even a brief trip
through the territories of various Latin American countries should con-
vince anyone who is not ideologically blind that in terms of identity other
than political identity, these nations do not have much to do with many
 Jorge J. E. Gracia 309

of the peoples who are considered part of them. This means that the use
of terms based on national origins for Hispanic groups in the United States
is even more artificial, for most of these Americans are not politically
related to these countries today. The case of recent immigrants is different,
of course, but that does not change the situation for others. Keep in mind
also that, historically, the territorial integrity of many of these countries
has more to do with how Spain and Portugal divided and governed their
empires in America than with the identity of the current or past inhabi-
tants of those countries. This makes the use of terms of national origin for
Hispanic Americans, by those who want to avoid anything Spanish or
Iberian, particularly paradoxical.
Of course, the reason why some Hispanic Americans want to empha-
size their ties to particular countries of Latin America is quite under-
standable. After all, repeated attempts have been made to strip them of
their values, dignity, culture, language, political power, and social status.
Naturally, they need to fight these attempts, and the idea of a country of
origin, with a great past and potential for the future, appears to be just the
right tool to counteract ethnic discrimination and racism. Just as African
Americans find a source of strength in Africa, so Hispanics find it in
Mexico, Brazil, or Peru. All this is very well, as long as it is based on a
realistic understanding of the situation and is not used to encourage mis-
guided nationalism, ethnic strife, and unrealistic expectations. .. .
Finally, let me point out two major positive advantages of the use of
“Hispanic” and the conception of Hispanic identity I have proposed. First,
they allow us to participate fully in the cultural diversity of Hispanics
without losing our more particular identities. The diversity, variety, and
mixture which characterize Hispanics are enormous. It is probably not an
overstatement to say that Hispanics are more diverse and varied than any
other group in the world. Think of African Hispanics, Catalans, Tarahu-
maras, and so many others who are part of our historical family. Indeed,
think of Sephardic Jews, who, after centuries living outside Hispanic ter-
ritories, are still closely tied in many ways to the rest of us. Conceiving our
identity in the terms I have outlined helps us understand this phenom-
enon, and allows us to share in each other’s cultural riches: Paraca cloth,
Maya architecture, African rhythms, Spanish literature, and Portuguese
pottery, to name a few examples.
The second major advantage of the conception of Hispanic identity I
have proposed is that it is not hegemonic; it does not rule out other iden-
tities, for it does not conceive Hispanics as sharing a set of properties
which actually conflict, or can potentially conflict, with other properties
shared by members of Hispanic subgroups. This conception of who we are
is open and pluralistic, allowing the coexistence of other, multiple, and
variegated identities. Its social and political implications are substantial
310 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

then, for this way of conceiving Hispanic identity undermines intolerance

and any totalizing and hegemonic attempts at imposing on others narrow
conceptions of who we are.
Linda Martin Alcoff
(b. 19——)

ifsinda Martin Alcoff was born in Panama to a Panamanian father of

Spanish, Indian, and African descent and a white, Anglo-Irish
mother from the United States. She describes her family as “postcolonial
and postmodernist,” with “an open-ended set of indeterminate national,
cultural, racial, and even linguistic allegiances.” Her firsthand experience
with the issues of mixed identity has informed some of her recent work in
race theory and the problem of Latina/o identity in the United States.
Alcoff was raised in central Florida and studied philosophy at Georgia
State University, receiving her BA in 1980 and her MA in 1983. She was
awarded a PhD from Brown University in 1987 under the supervision of
Ernest Sosa and Martha Nussbaum.
Alcoff has held teaching positions at Kalamazoo College, Florida
Atlantic University, and Brown University. She is currently a professor of
philosophy at Syracuse University, where she has worked since 1988. Her
main areas of research and publication are in continental philosophy, epis-
temology, feminist theory, and race theory. In her work she combines
these areas to open new paths in the field of philosophy. Her innovative
work has been acclaimed. Feminist Epistemologies (1993), a volume that
Alcoff coedited, was named a Critic’s Choice Book by the American Edu-
cational Studies Association. Two other volumes on epistemology, Real
Knowing: New Versions of Coherence Epistemology (1996) and Episte-
mology: The Big Questions (1998), as well as numerous articles in this area
have made her a leading figure in the field of epistemology.
Alcoff’s recent work has been directed to race theory and the problem
of identity. She has coedited two volumes on these topics: Thinking from
thé-Underside of History: Enrique Dussel’s Philosophy of Liberation (2000)
and Identities: Race, Class, Gender, and Nationality (2003). She has con-

Sid
312 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

tributed to many journals, including Philosophy Today, Hypatia, and the

Philosophical Forum, among others, both as guest editor and as author.
Two articles representative of her contributions to the field of Latin Amer-
ican philosophy are “Mestizo Identity” and “Latina/o Identity Politics.”
In the article included here, Alcoff explores the problem of Latina/o
identity within the context of the current political and social realities of
the United States. She begins by pointing to the limitations of the con-
ventional categories of race in the United States, claiming that these
“racialized identities have long connoted homogeneity, easily visible iden-
tifying features and biographical heredity.” The mestizo identity of many
Latinas/os defies the notion that racial identity is a straightforward matter,
bound up with presumptions of purity as having intrinsic value. Within
the context of the United States, the highly heterogeneous Latina/o popu-
lation complicates the discussion of identity understood in terms of race.
This leads Alcoff into an investigation of Latina/o identity as a problem of
social ontology: that is, to the question of whether Latina/o is an ethnic
category, a racial category, neither, or both.
Alcoff analyzes various political and metaphysical arguments that
have been given in favor of abandoning an understanding of Latina/o
identity in terms of race, and of accepting in its stead an understanding of
identity in terms of ethnicity. The move to dislodge race and understand
Latina/o identity in terms of ethnicity faces many difficulties and so Alcoff
favors instead a move toward shifting the meaning of race and under-
standing identity in terms of both race and ethnicity (ethnorace). Alcoff
concludes with a reminder that even within the context of an ethnorace
understanding of identity, race must be de-essentialized, that is, it must be
understood as a function of history, social location, and forms of cultural
expression.
Is Latina/o Identity a
Racial Identity?

|:Latina/o identity a racial identity? Given the social basis of racializing

categories and the dynamic nature of identities, there is no decontex-
tual, final, or essential answer to this question. However, I would describe
my concern in this paper as being in the realm of social ontology in the
sense that I seek the truth about how Latina/o identity is configured as
well as livediin the context of North America today. pas guestion then can

Although I am interested here inithe Poitier ofsdeahiy. that is, the polit-
ical effects of various accounts of identity in and on popular conscious-
ness, both among Latinas/os and among Anglos, my principal concern is
at the level of ther than the attendant
political rights that may be associated with identity.
As will be seen, much of the debates over Latinas/os and race weave
together strategic considerations (a concern with political effects) and
metaphysical considerations (a concern with the most apt description). It
is not clear to me that these concerns can, in fact, be disentangled. There
are two reasons for this. One is that strategic proposals for the way a com-
munity should represent itself cannot work if there is no connection what-
soever to lived experience or to the common meanings that are prominent
in the relevant discourses and practices. Thus, the strategic efficacy of
political proposals are dependent on correct assessments of metaphysical

Copyright © 2000 from Hispanic/Latinos in the United States: Ethnicity, Race, and Rights, pp.
23-44, by Jorge J. E. Gracia and Pablo DeGreiff, editors. Reproduced by permission of Rout-
ledge/Taylor & Francis Books, Inc.

313
314 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

realities. But, second, the question of what is the most apt description of
those metaphysical realities is not as clear-cut as some philosophers might
suppose. And this is because the concepts of “race,” “Latina/o,” and even
“identity” admit of different meanings and have complicated histories,
such that it is not possible to simply say, “This is the meaning. ” Thus, we
must make a judgment about meaning, a judgment that will be underde-
termined by usage, history, science, or phenomenological description of
experience. And in making these judgments, we must look to the future
and not just the past. In other words, given that we are participating in
the construction of meanings in making such judgments, we must take
responsibility for our actions, which will require carefully considering
their likely real-world effects.

The question of Latina/o identity’s relationship to the conventional cate-

gories of race that have been historically dominant in the United States is
a particularly vexing one. To put it straightforwardly, we simply don’t fit.
Racialized identities in the United States have long connoted homogeneity,
easily visible identifying features, and biological heredity, but none of
these characteristics apply to Latinas/os in the United States, nor even to
any one national subset, such as Cuban Americans or Puerto Ricans. We
are not homogeneous by “race,” we are often not identifiable by visible
features or even by names, and such issues as disease heredity that are
often cited as the biologically relevant sign of race are inapplicable to such
a heterogeneous group.
Moreover, the corresponding practices of racialization in the United
States—such as racial border control, legal sanctions on cross-racial mar-
riage, and the multitudinous demands for racial self-identification on
nearly every application form from day care to college admissions—are
also relatively unfamiliar south of the border. Angel R. Oquendo recounts
that before he could even take the SAT in Puerto Rico he was asked to iden-
tify himself racially. “I was caught off guard,” he says. “I had never thought
of myself in terms of race.”! Fortunately, the SAT included “Puerto Rican”
among the choices of “race” and Oquendo was spared what he called a
“profound existential dilemma.” Even while many Latinas/os consider
color a relevant factor for marriage, and antiblack racism persists in Latin
America along with a condescension toward indigenous peoples, the insti-
tutional and ideological forms that racism has taken in Latin America are
generally not analogous to those in the North. And these differences are
why many of us find our identity as well as our social status changing as
(we step off the plane or cross the river: race suddenly becomes an all-
‘important aspect of our identity, and sometimes our racial identity dra-
matically changes in ways over which it feels as if we have no control.
In the face of this transcontinental experiential dissonance, there are
 Linda Martin Alcoff 315

at least three general options possible as a way of characterizing the rela-

tionship between Latina/o identity and race. One option is to refuse a
racialized designation and use the concept of “ethnicity” instead. This
would avoid the problem of racial diversity within Latina/o communities
and yet recognize the cultural links among Latinas/os " the North. The

times religion, and so on. One might also be ee eaneae ne option

as a way of resisting the imposition of a pan-Latina/o ethnicity, in order
to insist that the only meaningful identities for Latinas/os are Cuban
American, Puerto Rican, Mexican American, and so on.2
A second option would resist the ethnic paradigm on the grounds
that, whatever the historical basis of Latina/o identity, living in the con-
text of North America means that we have become a racialized population
and need a self-understanding that will accurately assess our portrayal
here. A third option, adopted by many neoconservatives, is to attempt to
assimilate to the individualist ideology of the United States both in body
and in mind, and a
priori. -
None of these responses seems fully RTS though some have
more problems than others. It is hard to see how the diversity among
Latinas/os could be fairly represented in any concept of race. And it is
doubtful that many Latinas/os, especially those who are darker-skinned,
will be able to succeed in presenting themselves as simply individuals:
they will still be seen by many as instantiations of a group whose charac-
teristics are considered both universally shared within the group and
largely inferior, even if they do not see themselves this way. On the face
of it, the first option—an account of Latina/o identity as an ethnic iden-
tity—seems to make the most sense, for a variety of reasons that I will
explore in this paper. This option could recognize the salience of social
identity, allow for more internal heterogeneity, and resist the racializing
that so often mischaracterizes our own sense of self. However, I will ulti-
mately argue that the “ethnic option” is not fully adequate to the con-
temporary social realities we face, and may inhibit the development of
useful political strategies for our diverse communities.My argument in
this paper primarily will take the form of a negative: that
Developing a fully adequate alternative is beyond my
scope or ambitions here, but the very failure of the ethnic option will
establish some of the necessary criteria for such an alternative.
My argument will take the following steps. First, I will explain briefly
the context of these debates over identity, which will go some way toward
refuting the individualist option. Next, I will go over some of the relevant
facts about our populations to provide the necessary cultural context.
Then I will zero in on the ethnicity argument, assess its advantages and
disadvantages, and conclude
by posing the outline of an alternative.
316 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

WHY CARE ABOUT IDENTITY?

If I may be permitted a gross overgeneralization, European Americans are

afraid of strongly felt ethnic and racial identities. Not all, to be sure. The
Irish and Italian communities, as well as some other European American
nationalities, have organized cultural events on the basis of their identi-
ties at least since the 1960s, with the cooperation of police and city coun-
cils across the country. The genealogy of this movement among the Irish
and the Italians has been precisely motivated by their discrimination and
vilification in U.S. history, a vilification that has sometimes taken racial-
ized forms.
But there is a different attitude among whites in general toward
“white ethnic” celebrations of identity and toward those of others, that is,
those of nonwhites. And this is, I suspect, because it is one thing to say
to the dominant culture, “You have been unfairly prejudiced against me,”
as southern European ethnicities might say, and quite another to say, “You
have stolen my lands and enslaved my people and through these means
created the wealth of your country,” as African Americans, Latinas/os,
and Native Americans might say. The latter message is harder to hear; it
challenges the basic legitimizing narratives of this country’s formation
and global status, and it understandably elicits the worry, “What will be
the full extent of their demands?” Of course, all of the cultural programs
that celebrate African, indigenous, or Latina/o heritage do not make these
explicit claims. But in a sense, the claims do not need to be explicit: any
reference to slavery, indigenous peoples, or Chicano or Puerto Rican his-
tory implies challenges to the legitimizing narrative of the United States,
and any expression of solidarity among such groups consciously or uncon-
sciously elicits concern about the political and economic demands such
groups may eventually make, even if they are not made now.
This is surely part of what is going on when European Americans
express puzzlement about the importance attached to identity by
non-European Americans, when young whites complain about African
Americans sitting together in the cafeteria, or when both leftist and liberal
political theorists, such as Todd Gitlin and Arthur Schlesinger, jump to the
conclusion that a strong sense of group solidarity and its resultant “iden-
tity politics” among people of color in this country will fracture the body
politic and disable our democracy.3
A prominent explanation given for these attachments to identi
attachments that are considered otherwise inexplicable, is that there is
opportunism at work, among leaders if not among the rank and file, to
secure government handouts and claim special rights. However, the
demand for cultural recognition does not entail a demand for special polit-
 Linda Martin Alcoff 317

ical rights. The assumption in so much of contemporary political philos-

ophy that a politics of recognition—or identity-based political move-
ments—leads automatically to demands for special rights is grounded, I
suspect, in the mystification some feel in regard to the politics of cultural
identity in the first place. Given this mystification and feeling of amor-
phous threat, assumptions of opportunism and strategic reasoning
become plausible.
Assumptions about the opportunism behind identity politics seem to
work on the basis of the following understanding of the recent historical
past: in the 1960s, some groups began to clamor for the recognition of
their identities, began to resist and critique the cultural assimilationism of
liberal politics, and argued that state institutions should give these identi-
ties public recognition. Thus, on this scenario, first we had identity poli-
tics asserting the political importance of these identities, and then we had
(coerced) state recognition of them. But denigrated identity designations,
particularly racial ones, have originated with and been enforced by the
state in U.S. history, not vice versa. Obviously, it is the U.S. state and U.S.
courts that initially insisted on the overwhelming salience of some racial
and ethnic identities, to the exclusion of rights to suffrage, education,
property, marrying whomever one wanted, and so on. Denigrated groups
are trying to reverse this process; they are not the initiators of it. It seems
to me that they have two aims: (1) to valorize previously derided identi-
ties, and (2) to have their own hand at constructing the representations of
identities.
The U.S. pan-Latina/o identity is perhaps the newest and most impor-
tant identity that has emerged in the recent period. The concept of a pan-
Latina/o identity is not new in Latin America: Simon Bolivar called for it
nearly two hundred years ago as a strategy for anticolonialism, but also
because it provided a name for the “new peoples” that had emerged from
the conquest. And influential leaders such as Jose Marti and Che Guevara
also promoted Latin American solidarity. It is important to note that pop-
ulations “on the ground” have not often resonated with these grand
visions, and that national political and economic leaders continue to
obstruct regional accords and trade agreements that might enhance soli-
darity. But the point remains that the invocation of a pan-Latina/o iden-
tity does not actually originate in the North.
Only much more recently is it the case that some Latina/o political
groups in the North have organized on a pan-Latina/o basis, although
most Latina/o politics here has been organized along national lines, for
example, as Puerto Ricans or Chicanos. But what is especially new, and
what is being largely foisted on us from the outside, is the representation
of a pan-Latina/o identity in the dominant North American media, and it
is this representation we want to have a hand in shaping. Marketing agen-
A ETON cx
318 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

cies have discovered/created a marketing niche for the “generic” Latina/o.

And Latina/o-owned marketing agencies and advertising agencies are
working on the construction of this identity as much as anyone, though of
course in ways dominated by strategic interests or what Habermas calls
purposive rationality. There are also more and more cultural representa-
tions of Latinas/os in the dominant media and in government productions
such as the census. Thus, the concern that U.S. Latinas/os have with our
identity is not spontaneous or originating entirely or even mostly from
within our communities; neither is the ongoing representation of our iden-
tity something we can easily just ignore.*

WHAT WE ARE DEPENDS ON WHERE WE ARE

Social identities, whether racial or ethnic, are dynamic. In Omi and

Winant’s study of what they call “racial formations” in the United States
between the 1960s and the 1980s, they argued, “Racial categories and the
meanings of race are given concrete expression by the specific social rela-
tions and historical context in which they are embedded.”> Moreover,
these categories are constantly facing forms of resistance and contestation
that transform both their impact and their effective meaning. Clearly this
is the case with ethnic as well as racial identities. As social constructions
imposed on variable experiential facts, they exist with no stable referent
or essential, nonnegotiable core. And because such identities are often
also the site of conflict over political power and economic resources, they
are especially volatile. Any analysis of Latina/o identity, then, must chart
historical trends and contextual influences, which themselves will vary
across different parts of the country.
Since the passage of the 1965 immigration law that ended the quotas
on immigration from South and Central America and the Caribbean, mil-
lions of Latinas/os have entered the United States from various countries,
causing a great diversification of the previously dominant Chicano, Puerto
Rican, and Cuban communities. Thus today, Dominicans are vying with
Puerto Ricans in New York City to be the largest Latina/o population, and
even Cubans no longer outnumber other Latinas/os in Miami. As |the
immigrant communities settle in, younger generations develop different
identities than their parents, adapting to their cultural surroundings.
Young people also tend to experience similar problems across the national
divisions, such as Dominican and Puerto Rican, and this promotes a sense
of common identity. So in one sense diversity has increased as new immi-
grations continue and new generations of younger Latinos depart from
some aspects of their parents’ cultural identity, such as being Spanish-
dominant or being practicing Catholics, while in another sense diversity
 Linda Martin Alcoff 319

has decreased as Latinas/os experience common forms of discrimination

and chauvinism in the United States and an increasingly common cultural
interpellation.
In the 1960s, U.S. state agencies began to disseminate the ethnic label
“Hispanic” as the proper term for identifying all people of Latin American
and even Spanish descent.° So today we have a population of thirty mil-
lion or so “Hispanics” in the United States. The mass media, entertain-
ment, and advertising industries have increasingly addressed this large
population as if it were a coherent community.” As Suzanne Oboler’s
study reveals, this generic identity category feels especially socially con-
structed to many of the people named by it, given that it is not how they
self-identified previously.8 Oboler asks, somewhat rhetorically:

Are marketers merely taking advantage of an existing “group” as a poten-

tially lucrative target population? Or are their advertising strategies in fact
helping to “design” the group, “invent” its traditions, and hence “create”
this homogeneous ethnic group??

One might well be concerned that adapting to any such pan-Latina/o iden-
tity as constructed by dominant institutions—whether economic or polit-
ical ones—represents a capitulation or is simply the inevitable effect of
what Foucault might call governmentality.
However, much of the debate over this interpellation among those
named by it does not so much critique the fact of its social construction
or even the fact that its genesis lies in government and marketing agen-
cies, but focuses instead on its pglitical implications and its coherence
with lived experience, for example, the way in which it disallows multi-
plicity or the way in which it . In this way, the
debate shifts to a more productive set of concerns, it seems to me. | wit-
nessed an interesting exchange on some of these points at the “Hispanics:
Cultural Locations” conference held at the University of San Francisco, in
1997. Ofelia Schutte, a leading Latina philosopher, presented a paper
arguing that a pan-U.S. Latina/o identity may be a means to disaffiliate us
from our nations of birth or ancestry, nations that have been invaded or
otherwise harmed by the U.S. government. Thus, thinking of ourselves
primarily as U.S. Latinas/os rather than, say, Panamanians or Salvadorans
may work to dislodge or weaken feelings of loyalty to countries outside
the U.S. borders. In the discussion period after her paper, one member of
the audience argued strongly that as a half-Spanish, half-Puerto Rican
woman who grew up among Chicanos in California, she had found the
emergence of a pan-Latina/o identity a welcome relief. Although she rec-
ognized the dangers that Schutte was describing, identifying herself
simply as Latina allowed her to avoid having to make complicated choices
320 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

between the various aspects of her identity, and it helpfully named her
experience of connection with a multiplicity of Latina/o communities. 10
Another political concern I have heard voiced against overhomoge-
nizing Latina/o identities is that it could allow those members of the
group who are themselves less disadvantaged to reap the benefits of affir-
mative action and other forms of economic redress that have mainly been
created for (and often mainly fought for by) Chicanos and Puerto Ricans,
that is, the more disadvantaged members. We are already seeing this
happen because of the label “Hispanic.” It is unclear how to effectively
police this problem other than to rely on people’s own moral conscience
(which is not terribly effective). In some cases, targeted groups are desig-
nated with specificity as Mexican Americans or Puerto Ricans in order to
avoid, for example, giving scholarships to Argentinians of recent European
extraction. However, the problem here is that one cannot_assume that no
Argentinians in the United States have suffered discrimination, given their
particular Tacialized identity, skin tone, the way their accent may be medi-
ated by their class background, and so forth. Given the racial hetero-
geneity of every Latin American and Caribbean country, one cannot
exclude an entire country from measures aimed at redressing discrimina-
tion without excluding many who are racially marked as inferior north of
the border.
The resistance to a pan-Latina/o identity is most likely a losing battle,
moreover, as both government and marketing agencies are increasingly
winning hegemony in their public interpellations. Moreover, as both
Arlene Davila and Daniel Mato have argued in separate studies, the mar-
keting and advertising agencies are not simply forcing us to use labels that
have no real purchase on our lives, but participating in a new subject con-
struction that affects how Latinas/os think about and experience our iden-
tity and our interrelatednessto other Latinas/os with whom we may have
felt little kinship before.!! Mato points out that the television corporation
Univision, which is jointly owned by U.S. and Latin American companies,
is exposing its viewers to a wide array of programming such that viewers
are becoming familiar with a diversity of communities, in both the South
and the North, and in this way “Univision is participating in the social

reality, but that what it refers to is a contingent product of social negotia-

tions rather than a natural kind. And the exchange I described above at
the “Hispanics: Cultural Locations” conference indicates that the pan-
Latina/o identity does in fact correspond at least to some contemporary
Latina/os’ lived experience.
Latin America itself is probably the most diverse area in the world,
producing extreme racial and ethnic diversity within Latina/o communi-
; Linda Martin Alcoff a2

ties. By U.S. categories, there are black, brown, white, Asian, and Native
American Latinas/os. There are many Latinas/os from the Southern Cone
whose families are of recent European origin, a large number of
Latinas/os from the western coastal areas whose families came from Asia,
and of course a large number of Latinas/os whose Uae is pee
indigenous to the Americas or entirely African. The majority of Latina
nd South America are no doubt
the product of a mix of two or
And being mixed is true, as Jorge Greta catnee
us, even of the so-called Hispanics who are direct descendants of Spain
and Portugal. And it is true as well of many or ‘most of the people identi-
fied as black or moreno, as is the case in the United States. Latin Ameri-
cans are thus generally categorized “racially” in the following way: white
(which often involves a double deceit: a claim to pure Spanish descent,
very rare, and a claim that pure Spanish descent is purely white or Euro-
pean, also very rare); black (meaning wholly or mostly of African descent,
usually sub-Saharan); Indian (meaning being some or mostly of pre-
Columbian or Amerindian descent); and mixed (which is sometimes
divided into subcategories, mestizo, mulatto, cholito, and so on), with the
mixed category always enjoying a majority. Asians are often entirely left
off the list, even though their numbers in several countries are significant.
Different countries vary these main racial designations, however.
During a recent weekend festival for Latino Heritage Month in Syracuse,
Latinas/os of different nationalities provided information about their
countries for passersby, information that included statistics, culled from
government sources, on what in every case was called the country’s
“ethnic makeup.” Racial categories of identity were given within this
larger rubric of ethnic makeup, suggesting an equation between ethnicity
and race. For example, in the Dominican Republic the ethnic makeup is
said to consist of 73 percent “mixed people,” 16 percent “white,” 11 per-
cent “black.” In Ecuador the categories are listed as “mestizo,” “Indian,”
“Spanish,” and “black.” In Chile there is a single category called “Euro-
pean and mestizo,” which makes up 95 percent of the population. In Cuba
we get categories of “mulatto,” which is 51 percent of the population, and
we also get categories of “white,” “black,” and “Chinese.” In Bolivia the
breakdown is between “Quechua,” “Aymara,” “mestizo,” and “white.”
2?

One is reminded of the encyclopedia invented by Borges, which

divides dogs into such categories as “(a) belonging to the Emperor. . . (b)
tame... (c) drawn with a very fine camel hair brush. . . and (d) having
just broken the water pitcher.”!3 There is no internally consistent or
coherent theory of ethnic or racial identity underlying the diversity of cat-
egorizations. Under the rubric of ethnicity are included a mix of cultural,
national, and racial groups, from Spanish to Quechua to white. The sole
point that seems to be consistent throughout is that the category “black”
 322 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

is the only one that is invariably racialized, that is, presented as black or
mulatto and never presented as “West Indian” or “African.” Interestingly,
the category “white” is also often racialized, though it is sometimes
replaced with “European” or “Spanish.” I would suggest that there is a
(Strong relationship between these two facts. That is, it becomes important
' to use the category “white,” and to self-identify as “white,” when the cat-
Legory “black” is present, in order to establish one’s clear demarcation, and
out of concern that a category such as “mestizo” might be allowed to
include black people. “White” is also used to distinguish oneself from
“Indian,” a category that bears racialized meanings in Latin America and
negative as
associations similar to the associations with African Americans
in the United Ste
States.
Blackness does, of course, signify differently in Latin America; thus it
is not likely that a typical white American landing in Santo Domingo
would look around and think only 11 percent of the population is black.
However, it seems clear that the striking use of the category “black” for
all people of African descent, rather than cultural and national markers, is
an indication of antiblack racism. The people sodesignated are reduced
to.skin color as if this were their primary
ry_Characterist ic rather than some
self-created marker such as nationality, language, or culture. One may
have been born into a culture and language not of one’s own choosing,
but these are still more indicative of human agency than is any classifica-
tion by phenotype. From this, one might argue that replacing “black” with
another ethnicity category, such as “West Indian” or “African,” might help
equalize and dignify the identities.
The category “Indian,” however, even though it might initially look to
be more of an ethnicity. than a race (since it is not merely the name of a
color), has primarily a racial meaning, given that the term does not say
anything about language, mode of life, religion, or specific origin. Also, in
nonindigenous communities of discourse, the term often carries associa-
tions as negative as “black” does. Here one might argue that disaggre-
gating the category “Indian” would be helpful. If the main meaning of
“Indian” is a kind of racial meaning, then the use of “Quechua,”
“Aymara,” and so on reduces the significance of the racialized connota-
tions of the identity, subordinating those to the specificity of linguistic and
cultural markers.
Despite all this variety and heterogeneity, when Latinas/os enter the
United States, we are often homogenized into one overarching “Hispanic”
‘identity. This generic Hispanicity is not, as Jorge Gracia reminds us, actu-
ally homogeneous. That is, in European American eyes, “Hispanic” iden-
tity does not carry the same connotations in every part of the United
States. Gracia explains:
 Linda Martin Alcoff 324

In Miami it means Cuban; in New York City it means Puerto Rican; and
in the southwest it means Mexican. So in California | am supposed to
have as my native food tacos, in New York City, arroz con gandules, and
in Miami, arroz con frijoles negros!}4

I, too, cannot even count the times it has been assumed that I must natu-
rally like hot and spicy food, even though the typical food in Panama is
extremely mild.
Still, there is one feature at least that persists across this variety of
“generic” Hispanic identities, and that is that our identity
in the United
States,. whether or not it is homogenized, is quite often presented”a8”a
racial identity. In a recent report in the Chronicle of Higher Education, just
to give one example, differences in average SAT scores were reported in
the following way:

The average verbal scores by race were: white, 526; black, 434; Asian
American, 498; American Indian, 480; Mexican American, 453; Puerto
Rican, 452; and other Hispanic students, 461.15

So again, like Angel Oquendo, we find that “Puerto Rican” is a racial iden-
tity, and a different one at that from the “race” of Mexican Americans.
Whereas in the categorizations I just analyzed from Latin America, racial
categories are subsumed within an overall account of “ethnic makeup,” in
this example from the United States, ethnic categories are subsumed
within an overall account of racial difference. But in both cases, race and
ethnicity are all but equated.

THE ETHNICITY PARADIGM

Latinas/os in the United States have responded

to racialization in a variety
of ways. One response, still ongoing, has been to deny vigorously any
racial interpellation as other-than-white. Thus some Latinos have literally
campaigned to be called white, apparently thinking that if they are going
to have to be racialized, whiteness is the one they want. Anita Allen
reported in 1994 that the largest petitioning group that had thus far
requested changes to the year 2000 U.S. census was the Association of
White Hispanics, who were agitating for that designation to be on the
census form.!¢ In the self-interested scramble for social status, this group
perceived correctly where the advantages lay.
Another response, especially among groups of young people, has been
to use the discourse of racialization as it exists in the United States to self-_
identify, but in positive rather than derogatory ways. Thus Chicanos in the
 324 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

August Twenty-Ninth Movement and in Mecha, as well as the primarily

Puertorrigueno Young Lords in the Northeast, at times adopted and
adapted the concept of a brown racial identity, such as the “Brown
Berets,” as if Latinas/os in these communities shared a visible phenotype.
One relevant causal factor for this among Puerto Ricans may be their long
experiential history of U.S. colonization, which imposed racialization even
before they ever entered the United States. Latinas/os from countries
without this experience of intensive colonization are more surprised by
being racially designated when they come here.!?
“whit
Butneither “brown” works for a pan-Latina/o identity (or
nore”
even for the specific nationalities they want to represent). What better
unites Latinas/os both across and even within our specific national cul-
tures is not race or phenotype but precisely those features associated with
“culture: language, religious traditions, cultural values, characteristics of
comportment. Thus, another response to forced racialization that has
existed for a long time among some Latina/o communities and which has
enjoyed a recent resurgence is to deny that race applies in any way to
Latinas/os and to argue for, and self-identify as, an ethnic group that
encompasses different nationalities and races within it.18 The U.S. census
has adopted this approach at times, in having no Latina/o identity listed
under possible racial categories and including it only under the list of
. Let us look at the main arguments in favor of this
approach, both the political as well as the metaphysical arguments.
1. There is powerful sentiment among Latinas/os toward resisting the
imposition of U.S. racializations and U.S. categories of identity. It is not as
if the system of racial classification here has benefited anyone except the
white majority. As Jorge Klor de Alva provocatively put it to Cornel West
in a conversation in Harper’s, “What advantage has it been, Cornel, for
blacks to identify as blacks?”!9 Oquendo argues against the use of such
racial terms as “Black Hispanics” and “White Hispanics” on the grounds
that these categories “project onto the Latino/a community a divisive
racial dualism that, much as it may per U.S.5 SOCIEL is alien to that
community. ”29 identity is a and n race: for
example, as Clara pedtenes has shown, aes Te of all colors self
identify first as Puerto Rican.?!
But in the United States, cultural, national, ethnic, religious, and other
forms of identification are constantly subordinated to race. So Afro-
Cubans, English-speaking West Indians, and
Afro-Brazilians are grouped
as “black,” in ways that often counter people’s own felt sense of identity
or primary group alliances. Race trumps culture, and culture is sometimes
even seen as a simple outgrowth of race. Shouldn’t this ridiculous biolog-
ical essentialism be opposed and the use of race as an identity or as an
all-important category of identity be diminished?
 Linda Martin Alcoff 325

2. Within the United States itself, many African Americans have been
opting out of racial categories ever since Jesse Jackson started pushing for
the use of the term “African American” in the late 1980s. This was a self-
conscious strategy to encourage analogies between African Americans and
other hyphenated ethnic groups—to, in a sense, normalize African Amer-
ican identity by no longer having it set apart from everyone else. Shouldn’t
Latinas/os unite with and support this trend?
3. The strategy of using ethnic terms rather than racial ones will have
the effect of generally. This was clearly
Jackson’s thinking. A representation by ethnic terms rather than racial
ones confers agency on a people; it invokes historical experience as well
as cultural and linguistic practices, all of which are associations with
human subjectivity, not objectivity. In contrast, race is often said to be
something one has no control over, something one “can’t help.” This
surely perpetuates the ‘association between denigrated racial categories
and victimhood, animal-driven natures, inherent inferiority and superi-
ority, and so on. For whites, racial essentialism confers superiority
whether or not they’ve done anything to deserve it; superior intelligence
is just in their genes. These beliefs may be more unconscious than con-
scious, but given the historically sedimented and persistent layers of the
ideology of race as an essential determinant, no matter what one intends
by use of a word, its historical meanings will be brought into play when
it is in use. Naomi Zack, Anthony Appiah, Klor de Alva, and many others
today argue that any use of racial terms will be inevitably embedded with
biological essentialism and historically persistent hierarchies of moral and
cognitive competence.?2 Luis Angel Toro calls on us to “abandon the out-
dated racial ideology embodied in [the Office of Management and
Budget’s Statistical] Directive no. 15 and replace it with questions
designed to determine an individual’s membership in a socially con-
structed, cultural subgroup.”23 The goal here, of course, is not only to
change whites’ assumptions about racialized groups, but also to help alter
the self-image of people in those groups themselves toward a more
affirming identity, an identity in which one can take justifiable pride.
~ Some also point to the relative success of Jamaican immigrants in the
United States as an example here. Grosfoguel and Georas write, “The
(Jamaican’s s}community’s
| strategy was to emphasize ethnic over racial
identity. ‘The fact that Jamaicans were not subsumed under the catego-
rization ‘African American’ avoided offsetting the positive impact of their
skilled background. Thus Jamaicans were successfully incorporated into
the host labor market in well-paid public and private service jobs...
{and] are currently portrayed by the white establishment in New York as
a model minority.”24
These are strong arguments. To summarize them, the political argu-
326 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

(thents are that (1) the use of ethnicity will reduce racism because it refers
‘to self-created features rather than merely physiological ones, and (2) this
‘will also resist the imposition of U.S. forms of identifying people, thus dis-
‘abusing North Americans of their tendency to naturalize and universalize
‘the predominant categories used here in the United States. The meta-
are that (3) ethnicity more accurately identifies what
aueleeeermumnag ove fat and how they self-identify, and (4) ethnicity
‘is simply closer to the truth of Latina/o identity, given its racial hetero-
geneity. All of these arguments are, in my view, good ones. But the
\problem is that there are other considerations, and once they are put on
ithe table, the picture unfortunately becomes more complicated.

RACIAL REALITIES

Let us look at the case of Cuban Americans. By all measures, they have
fared very well in this country in terms of both economic success and
political power. They have largely run both politics and the press in Miami
for some time, and presidential candidates neglect Cuban issues at their
peril. Of course, one cannot argue, as some do in the case of Jamaicans,
that Cubans’ strong ethnic identification is the main reason for their suc-
cess; most important has been their ability to play an ideological (and at
times military) role for the United States in the cold war. The enormous
government assistance provided to the Cubans who fled the Cuban revo-
lution was simply unprecedented in U.S. immigration history: they
received language training, educational and business loans, job placement
assistance, and housing allocations, and their professional degrees from
Cuban institutions were legally recognized to an extent other Third World
immigrants still envy. In 1965, when President Johnson began his Great
Society programs, the amount of assistance they received from the gov-
ernment actually increased.25
But one may legitimately wonder whether the Cubans’ status as
refugees from Communism was all that was at work here, or even the
overriding factor. The Cubans who came in the 1960s were overwhelm-
ingly white light-skinned.
or They were generally from the top strata of
Cuban society. It is an interesting question whether Haitians would ever
have been treated the same way. The Cubans who left Cuba after 1980,
known as the Marielitos, were from lower strata of Cuban society, and a
large number were Afro-Cubans and mulattos.2° These Cubans found a
decidedly colder welcome. THey were left penned in refugee camps for
months on end, and those who were not sent back to Cuba were released
into U.S. society with little or no assistance, joining the labor ranks at the
level of Puerto Ricans and Dominicans.
 Linda Martin Alcoff Baz

There are no doubt many factors at work in these disparate experi-

ences of Cuban immigration, having to do, for example, with the geopo-
litical climate. But surely one of these important factors is race, or racial-
ized identity. Perceived racial identity often does trump ethnic or cultural
identity.
Look again at the passage about Jamaicans quoted earlier from Gros-
foguel and Georas, with certain words emphasized: “The Jamaican com-
munity’s strategy was to emphasize ethnic over racial identity. The fact
that Jamaicans were not subsumed under the categorization ‘African
American’ avoided offsetting the positive impact of their skilled back-
ground.” Grosfoguel and Georas contrast the ethnic Jamaican identity
with what they revealingly take to be a racial African American identity,
even though the term “African American” was Jackson’s attempt to
replace race with ethnicity. This again suggests that the racialization of
black Americans will overpower any ethnic or cultural marker. It may also
be the case that the category “African” is overly inclusive, since under its
umbrella huge cultural and linguistic differences would be subsumed, and
thus it is incapable of signifying a unified ethnic identity. But that may be
assuming more knowledge about Africa among white Americans or even
among Latinas/os than one reasonably should. More likely is the fact that
“African American” is still understood primarily as a racial designation, in
a way that terms such as “German American” or “Irish American” never
are. Thus it is questionable whether the strategy of using an ethnic term
for a currently racialized group will have the effect of reducing racism if it
continues to simply signify race.
And after all, the first meaning given for the word ethnic in Webster’s
Unabridged Dictionary is “heathen, pagan.” The concept of ethnicity is
closely associated with the concept of race, emerging at the same moment
in global history, as this meaning indicates. The common usage of the cat-
egory “white ethnic” indicates that unless otherwise identified, “ethnics”
are assumed to be nonwhite and thus they are racialized. For many people
in the United States, “ethnic” connotes not only nonwhite
n but also the typ-
ical negative associations of nonwhite racial|identity. Meanings given for
the word heathen in the same dictionary include “rude, illiterate, bar-
barous, and irreligious.” In this list, it is striking that “irreligious” comes
last.
Like “African American,” the Ho is thanein ihe United States the cat-
egory “Latina/o” « es as a lized category. Grosfoguel and
Georas aces argue that * ‘no matter Pet Dione or blue-eyed’ a
person may be, and no matter how successfully he can ‘pass’ as white, the
moment a person self-identifies as Puerto Rican, he enters the labyrinth of
racial Otherness.”2” Virginia Dominguez even makes this case in regard
not only to ethnicity but to cultural identity as well. She suggests that case
 328 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

studies from Canada to Brazil reveal that “people may speak culture but
continu race. Whether in the form of cultural pluralism or of the
to think e
current idiom of multiculturalism, the concept of culture is used in ways
that naturalize and essentialize difference.”?8
My suspicion is that this works for some Latina/o identities, such as
Puerto Rican, Dominican, and Mexican, but not always for others, such as
Chilean or Argentinian or perhaps South Americans in general, depending
on their features. And as mentioned earlier, some of these groups—Puerto
Ricans and Mexicans in particular—have a long history of seeing their
identities interpellated1
through dominant U.S. schemas. In terms of the
: pan-Latina/o. identity, tthis would mean that when Mexicans or Puerto
oe are called “Latina/o,” the latter category will connote racial mean-
ings, whereas Argentinians who are called “Latina/o” in the North may
_ escape these connotations. Identity terms, as Omi and Winant argue, gain
_their meaning from their context. Just as Gracia said “Latino” means tacos
‘in California and arroz con gandules in New York, it will mean race in Cal-
ifornia, Texas, New York, and Florida, and perhaps ethnicity only in a few
locations. Thus, moving from race to ethnicity is not necessarily moving
away from race.
Surely, an optimist might want to interject here, the persistence of
racial connotations evoked by ethnic categories is not insurmountable.
After all, the Irish did transform in wide popular consciousness from a
race to an ethnicity, and Jews are making the same transition, at least in
the United States. Is it truly the case that only light-skinned people can
enjoy this transformation, and that darker-skinned people will never be
able to?
In order to answer this question, we need to ask another one: What
are the obstacles to deracializing people of color in general?29 Is it really
the mere fact of skin tone?
I would make two suggestions. First, race, unlike ethnicity, has his-
torically worked through visible markers on the body that trump dress,
speech, and cultural practices. In Mississippi, a Jamaican is generally still
a black person, no matter how skilled. Race demarcates groups visually,
which is why racist institutions have been so upset about nonvisible mem-
bers of “races” and why they have taken such trouble in these cases to
enforce racial identifications. What I am suggesting is that in popular con-
sciousness—in the implicit perceptual practices we use in everyday life to
discern how to relate to each other—ethnicity does not “replace” race.
When ethnic identities are used instead of racial ones, the perceptual prac-
tices of visual demarcation by which we slot people into racial categories
continue to operate because ethnic categories offer no substituting per-
ceptual practice. In other words, the fact that race and ethnicity do not
map onto the same kinds of identifying practices will make race harder to
 Linda Martin Alcoff 329

dislodge. This was not the case for the Irish or for at least some Jewish
people, who could blend into the European American melting pot without
noticeable distinctiveness. For them, ethnicity could replace race, because
their racial identity as Irish and Jewish did not operate exclusively or pri-
marily through visible markers on the body so much as through contex-
tual factors such as neighborhood and accent. So their identity could shift
to white race plus Jewish or Irish ethnicity without troubling the dominant
perceptual practices of racial identification. However, for those who are
visibly identified by such dominant practices as nonwhite, as “raced,” the
shift to a primary ethnic identity would require eradicating these practices.
It is unlikely that the use of new terms alone will have that effect. At best,
for people of color, ethnic identities will operate alongside racial ones in
everyday interactions. At worst, ethnic identities, perhaps like “African
American,” will operate simply as a racial identity.
Although this is a fact about the visible features of the body, it is not
an immutable fact: the meanings of the visible are of course subject to
change. However, the phenomenology of perception is such that change
will be neither quick nor easy, and that word usage will be nowhere near
sufficient to make this change.39 The transformation of perceptual habits
will require a more active and a more practical intervention.
The second/obstacle to the deracialization of (at least most) people of
color has nothing to with perception or bodily features. This obstacle
refers back to a claim I made at the beginning, that assertions of group
solidarity among African Americans, Native Americans, and Latinas/os in
the United States provoke resistance among many whites because they
invoke the history of colonialism, slavery, and genocide. Thus, their
acceptance as full players within U.S. society comes at much greater cost
than the acceptance of previously vilified groups such as the Irish and
Jews—groups that suffered terrible discrimination and violence including
genocide but whose history is not a thorn in the side of “pilgrim’s
progress,” “manifest destiny,” “leader of the free world,” and other such
mythic narratives that legitimize U.S. world dominance and provide white
Americans with a strong sense of pride. The Irish and Jews were (are) col-
onized peoples in Europe, and there they are reminders of colonization
and genocide. But they do not play this role in the legitimizing narratives
of the U.S. state. Thus, the line between European ethnicities and people
ofcolor isnot merely orperhaps even
primarily
about skin tone but about
history and power and the narratives
by which currently existing power
pooch tc
So what are we to do? If the move from race to ethnicity is not as easy
as some have thought, what is a more realistic strategy, one that will also
resist being fatalistic about racialization? How can we avoid both fatalism
and naiveté? Are we to accept, then, that Latina/o identity is a racial iden-
330 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

tity, despite all the facts I have reviewed about our heterogeneity and dif-
ferent methods of self-identification, and all the pernicious effects of racial-
ized identity? In conclusion, I can only sketch the outlines of an answer.
Although racial ideology and practices of racialization seem to always
carry within them some commitment to biological essentialism, perhaps
the meaning of race is transformable. If race is going to be with us for
some time to come, it might still be the case that race itself will alter in
meaning, even before the perceptual practices of racialization can be done
away with. It seems to me that this change in meaning is exactly what
Paul Gilroy is attempting to chart, as well as to promote, in The Black
Atlantic, as well as what some other African American theorists are doing,
such as Robert Gooding-Williams, bell hooks, Lewis Gordon, and Patricia
Willlliams.3! You will notice in their works an intentional use of the term
black rather than African American; I think this is meant as a way to “be
real” about the social reality we live in, and also as a way to suggest a
linked fate between all black people across nationalities, at least in the
diaspora. But in their works, blackness has been decidedly de-essential-
ized and given a meaning that consists of historical experience, collective
memory, and forms of cultural expression. For Gilroy, there is a “black-
ness” that transcends and survives the differences of UK, Caribbean, and
U.S. nationalities, a blackness that can be seen in culture and narrative
focus. Blackness is social location, shared history, and a shared perception
about the world. For Gooding-Williams, black identity requires a certain
self-consciousness about creating the meaning of blackness. It requires, in
other words, not only that one is treated as a black person, or that one is
“objectively” black, but that one is “subjectively” black as well, and thus
that one exercises some agency in regard to their identity. His argument is
not simply that this is how we should begin to use the term black, but it
is how the term is actually used in common parlance, as in “Is Clarence
Thomas really black?”
Whether such an approach can be used for Latinas/os, I am not sure.
There is probably even greater diversity among Latinas/os in relation to
history, social location, and forms of cultural expression than there is
among black people across the diaspora. And the question of where black
Latinas/os “fit” is still unresolved, even when we make racial identity a
matter of self-creation. This is a serious weakness in Gilroy’s broad con-
ceptualization of a “black Atlantic”: Brazil, as large a country as it is, is
nowhere to be found.
But I believe that we can take an important lesson from this body of
work because it suggests that, even while we must remember the persis-
tent power of racialization and the inability of ethnicity to easily take its
place, the meanings of race are subject to some movement. Only a
semantic essentialist could argue that race can mean nothing but biolog-
 Linda Martin Alcoff Sia

ical essentialism; in reality, this is not the way meaning works. Let me be
clear about my position here: I don’t believe, a la some postmodernists,
that signifiers are slippery items whose meanings and associations can be
easily transformed. Like Michelle Moody-Adams, I would argue that some
can be (as in “black is beautiful”) and some cannot be (as in “spic”).32
Meaning works through iterability, that is, the invocation of prior mean-
ings. When those prior meanings are centuries old and globally spread,
they are going to be hard to dislodge. On the other hand, words do not
simply pick out things that exist prior to their being picked out, and thus
reference is mutable.
So the first point 1am making is this: despite our hopes that the influx
of Latinas/os on the North American continent, in all of our beautiful
diversity, would transform and annihilate the binaries and purist racial
ideologies prevalent in the United States, this is not likely, at least not very
soon. Existing systems of meaning will absorb and transform our own
self-identifying terms in ways that may not be immediately obvious but
which we need to become aware of. However, although we may be stuck
with racial categories for longer than some of us would wish, it may be
easier to help “race” slowly evolve than to try to do away with it as a first
step.
i United States have without a doubt been racialized.
And I would argue that the history, and even the contemporary socioeco-
nomic situation, of Latinas/os in the United States simply cannot be
understood using ethnicity categories alone; we have been shut out of the
melting pot because we have been seen as racial and not merely cultural
“others.”
However, this has not been true to the same degree for all of us. It has
been true of Mexicans, Puerto Ricans, and Dominicans most of all, much
less so of some others. So what are we to do in the face of this diversity
of historical experience and social location? Is race perhaps a way to
understand some Latina/o identities but not all? For a pan-Latina/o
moniker, shouldn’t we refer to ethnicity?
My argument has been that given the way in which our ethnicity has
been racialized, this is a doubtful solution. Moreover, we are in almost all
cases racially different from Anglos, in the commonly used sense of race.
That is—even for Spaniards, as Jorge Gracia is arguing—we are not
“purely European,” claims of white Hispanicity notwithstanding. In the
very name of antiracism and solidarity with other racialized people of
color, shouldn’t we acknowledge this, and not go the route of those who
would seek to better their social status by differentiating themselves from
the vilified racial others? Perhaps we can help lift the meaning of race out
of its status as an insult by uniting with the efforts of those such as Gilroy
and Gooding-Williams, who seek to give it a cultural meaning.
332 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

Of course, it does not make sense to say simply that Latinas/os con-
stitute a “race,” either by the commonsense meaning or by more nuanced
references to historical narrative and cultural production. I (still) believe
that if the concept of “mestizo” enters into U.S. culture, it can have some
good effects against the presumption of purity as having an intrinsic
value. Still, the concept of mestizo when applied to Latinas/os in general,
as if all Latinas/os or the essence of being Latina/o is to be mestizo, has
the effect of subordinating all Latinas/os, both North and South, whose
descendants are entirely African, Indian, or Asian. Mestizos then become
the cornerstone of the culture, with others pushed off to the side. This is
clearly intolerable.
A concept that might be helpful here has been coined by David Theo
Goldberg: ethnorace. Unlike race, ethnorace does not imply a common
descent, which is precisely what tends to embroil race in notions of bio-
logical determinism and natural and heritable characteristics. Ethnorace
might have the advantage of bringing into play the elements of both
human agency and subjectivity involved in ethnicity—that is, an identity
that is the product of self-creation—at the same time that it acknowledges
the uncontrolled racializing aspects associated with the visible body. And
the term would remind us that there are at least two concepts, rather than
one, that are vitally necessary to the understanding of Latina/o identity in
the United States: ethnicity and race. Using only ethnicity belies the reality
of most Latinas/os’ everyday experiences, as well as obscures our own
awareness about how ethnic identifications often do the work of race
while seeming to be theoretically correct and politically advanced. Race
dogs our steps; let us not run from it lest we cause it to increase its deter-
mination.

NOTES

Jorge Gracia gave me substantive help with this paper at all stages, for which I am
extremely grateful. | am also very grateful to Pablo De Greiff, Eduardo Mendieta,
Paula Moya, Angelo Corlett, and an anonymous reviewer for their helpful com-
ments.
1. See Angel R. Oquendo, “Re-imagining the Latino/a Race,” in The Latino/a
Condition: A Critical Reader, ed. Richard Delgado and Jean Stefancic (New York:
New York University Press, 1998), p. 61.
2. | do not mean to imply here that the recent marketing construction of a
pan-Latina/o U.S. identity is the first or only time such an identity has been imag-
ined. I will discuss this further on.
3. See Todd Gitlin, The Twilight of Common Dreams: Why America Is
Wracked by Culture Wars (New York: Henry Holt, 1995), and Arthur M.
Schlesinger Jr., The Disuniting of America: Reflections on a Multicultural Society
 Linda Martin Alcoff 333

(New York: W. W. Norton, 1992). Also see Jennifer L. Hochschild, Facing Up to the
American Dream (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996), and Jean Bethke
Elshtain, Democracy on Trial (New York: HarperCollins, 1997).
4. See Daniel Mato, “Problems in the Making of Representations of All-
Encompassing U.S. Latina/o—‘Latin’ American Transitional Identities,” Latino
Review of Books 3, nos. 1-2 (1997): 2-7; Arlene Davila, “Advertising and Latino
Cultural Fictions,” in Mambo Montage: The Latinization of New York, ed. Arlene
Davila and Agustin Lao-Montes (New York: Columbia University Press, 2001);
Juan Flores and George Yudice, “Buscando América: Languages of Latino Self-For-
mation,” Social Text 24 (1990): 57-84.
5. Michael Omi and Howard Winant, Racial Formations in the United States:
From the 1960s to the 1980s (New York: Routledge, 1986), p. 60.
6. Suzanne Oboler, Ethnic Labels, Latino Lives: Identity and the Politics of
(Re)Presentation in the United States (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press,
1995), p. xiii.
7. Mato, “Problems in the Making of Representations,” p. 2.
8. Oboler, Ethnic Labels, Latino Lives, see esp. chap. 1.
9. Ibid., p) 13:
10. As a Panamanian American who vividly remembers the 1989 U.S. inva-
sion but who has lived most of my life in the United States, growing up especially
around Cubans, | found both arguments persuasive.
11. See Davila, “Advertising and Latino Cultural Fictions”; Mato, “Problems
in the Making of Representations.”
12. Mato, “Problems in the Making of Representations,” p. 2.
13. Cited in Michel Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the
Human Sciences (New York: Random House, 1970), p. xv.
14. Jorge Gracia, personal communication, December 1998.
15. “Disparities Grow in SAT Scores of Ethnic and Racial Groups,” Chronicle
of Higher Education, September 11, 1998, p. A42. Emphasis added.
16. Anita Allen, “Recent Racial Constructions in the U.S. Census,” paper pre-
sented at the “Race: Its Meaning and Significance” conference, Rutgers University,
November 1994.
17. Ramon Grosfoguel and Chloe S. Georas, “The Racialization of Latino
Caribbean Migrants in the New York Metropolitan Area,” CENTRO Journal of the
Center for Puerto Rican Studies 8, nos. 1-2 (1996): 199.
18. See, for example, Jorge Klor de Alva’s arguments (against Cornel West)
on this point in “Our Next Race Question: The Uneasiness between Blacks and
Latinos,” Harper’s, April 1996, pp. 55-63.
19. Klor de Alva, “Our Next Race Question,” p. 56.
20. Oquendo, “Re-imaging the Latino/a Race,” p. 60.
21. Clara E. Rodriguez, Puerto Ricans Born in the U.S.A. (Boston: Unwin
Hyman, 1989).
22. Anthony Appiah, In My Father’s House: Africa in the Philosophy of Cul-
ture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992); Naomi Zack, Race and Mixed Race
(Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1993).
23. Luis Angel Toro, “Race, Identity, and ‘Box Checking’: The Hispanic Clas-
sification in OMB Directive No. 15,” in The Latino/a Condition, ed. Richard Del-
334 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

gado and Jean Stefanic (New York: New York University Press, 1998), p. 58.
Emphasis in original.
24. Grosfoguel and Georas, “The Racialization of Latino Caribbean
Migrants,” p. 197.
25. IbidapH los:
26. Ibid., p. 199.
27, abide py. 195:
28. Virginia Dominguez, “Editor’s Foreword: The Dialectics of Race and Cul-
ture,” Identities: Global Studies in Culture and Power 1, no. 4 (1998): 297-300.
29. I am very aware of the paradoxical way this question is raised (since in a
project of deracialization one shouldn’t refer to people by their color), and of other
paradoxes with the categories I’ve used at times in this paper (e.g., the use of the
category “black” when I have argued that it is oppressive). It is impossible to avoid
all such paradoxes while maintaining clarity about which groups one is trying to
pick out. All I can hope to have done is to problematize all such categories, and
increase our self-reflectiveness about them.
30. I make these arguments in more depth in my paper “The Phenomenology
ofRacial Embodiment,” Radical Philosophy 95 (May/June 1999): 15-26.
31. See Paul Gilroy, The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993); Robert Gooding-Williams, “Race,
Multiculturalism, and Justice,” Constellations 5, no. 1 (1998): 18-41; Patricia
Williams, Seeing a Color Blind Future: The Paradox of Race (New York: Farrar,
Straus, and Giroux, 1997); Lewis Gordon, Bad Faith and Antiblack Racism
(Atlantic Highlands, NJ: Humanities Press, 1995).
32. Michele Moody-Adams, “Excitable Speech: A Politics of the Performa-
tive,” Women’s Review of Books 15, no. 1 (October 1997): 13-14. And I would sug-
gest that even John Leguizamo’s brilliant comic use of terms like “Spic-o-rama”
plays off the negative connotations of the term rather than transforming it into a
positive term.
Ofelia Schutte
(b. 1945)

Oe Schutte is a native of Havana, Cuba. In 1960 she immigrated

to the United States, along with her parents. She received her BA
in English literature from Barry College in Miami, Florida. Schutte then
devoted herself to philosophy and received her MA in philosophy from
Miami University of Ohio. She earned her PhD in philosophy from Yale
University in 1978, with a thesis on Nietzsche. A leading Nietzsche
scholar, Schutte is the author of Beyond Nihilism: Nietzsche without Masks
(1984), which offers a feminist reading of Nietzsche, as well as several
articles on other aspects of Nietzsche’s thought.
In addition to her work on Nietzsche, Schutte has published widely
on contemporary Latin American philosophy, with a special emphasis on
the problem of cultural identity and feminism in Latin America. In her
book Cultural Identity and Social Liberation in Latin American Thought
(1993), Schutte critically assesses many of the thinkers included in Part IV
of this anthology (e.g., Mariategui, Ramos, Vasconcelos, Dussel, and Zea).
She was one of the first philosophers in the United States to treat Latin
American philosophy in a serious and systematic way. Her path-breaking
book brought together a decade of her work in the field, building on sem-
inal articles such as “Toward an Understanding of Latin American Philos-
ophy: Reflection on the Formation of Cultural Identity” (1987) and “Phi-
losophy and Feminism in Latin America: Perspectives on Gender Identity
and Culture” (1989).
Schutte spent a considerable part of her teaching career as a professor
of philosophy at the University of Florida, Gainesville. She is currently a
professor of women’s studies and philosophy at the University of South
Florida at Tampa. She has been the recipient of several prestigious awards,
including a Fulbright scholarship for research at the Universidad Nacional

335
336 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

Auténoma de México (1985-86) and a Mary Ingraham Bunting Institute

Fellowship at the Radcliffe Research and Study Center in Cambridge,
Massachusetts (1993).
The article included here analyzes the problem of cultural identity
within a feminist perspective. Schutte discusses the various aspects of
Latina identities and their construction by referencing her own experience
as a Cuban Latina in the multicultural United States, discussing the limi-
tations and freedoms associated with membership in each of these groups
and the resulting hybrid identities that form. She then turns to a discus-
sion of how individuals, while bound to certain identities not “primarily
directed by [them],” are free to negotiate certain aspects of these group
identities and so are not bound to them in an oppressive way.
Considering the problem of group rights from an aesthetic-political
standpoint, Schutte “tend[s] to look at group differences as products of a
vital way of affirming the plurality of cultures, rather than as a conserva-
tive apparatus used to demarcate, discipline, and police the boundaries
and identities of groups.” Schutte shows that checking a box marked “His-
panic” need not condemn one to a static identity formed of stereotypical
images. The category “Hispanic” ties one to a shared cultural history,
which one can negotiate in individual ways. Schutte’s meditation on how
Latina identity is negotiated is guided by autobiographical reflections and
rich references to both Gloria Anzaldtia’s innovative work in exploring
Chicana identity and José Marti’s vision of Cuban culture. Schutte argues
against giving in to collective identities “already predefined for us and
where we are thought to belong by virtue of our race, gender, ethnicity,
class, nation, or religion,” while “retaining our commitment to the defense
of our cultural history.”
Negotiating Latina Identities

his [essay] first calls attention to the problem of representing

indi-
viduals as members
of groups, taking the construction of Latino
identities as a social process not primarily directed by individuals them-
selves, and therefore making them respond to larger interests. In the
second part and as a way of , the individual as agent in the defi-
nition of her own identifications is highlighted, and the analysis moves to
the subjective question of negotiating Latina identities in a complexly con-
structed multicultural world.!

THE INDIVIDUAL AND THE GROUP

If we look at individuals from the standpoint of social relations, one could

say that the “I” is always already a part of a “we.” Even in cases of a type
of socialization that leads to the exclusion of persons from the group, the
excluded may be seen in relation to the group or groups that exclude
them. Broadly sD eaeie, the idenaication of individuals as members of a
group may be self-c imposed by others, and the qualities associ-
ated with group eset maypie Hpi aan or negative. One ques-
tion that emerges in the consideration of group rights is the metastructure
providing an umbrella for understanding the activity of multiple groups
and the interactions among them. For a normative model of the healthy
interaction among groups one would probably need to turn to social psy-
chology, ethics, or a theory of justice. This is not the aim of my [essay].

Copyright © 2000 from Hispanics/Latinos in the United States: Ethnicity, Race, and Rights, pp.
61-76, by Jorge J. E. Gracia and Pablo De Greiff, editors. Reproduced by permission of Rout-
ledge/Taylor & Francis Books, Inc.

337
338 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

What concerns me is thecae ES the civil and the group

(or groups), 1e role o
the
inclusion in some groups or OEE from others.
The civil
iptleuts movement and ue struggle gees: racism mas eee

pean fnon Oshermer nee ie ATS well when he noted that racism
did not mean that he was disliked by one of his relatives or by a couple of
neighbors across the street—situations that approximate the concept of
individual rejection—but that the rejection
is group-derived: “Look, a
Negro!” anyone would say as he walked by.? The rejection had nothing to
do with his individual characteristics, that is, with traits pertaining to his
individual person; it had everything to do with his being identified as a
member of the black race. Group membership, in normal conditions, is
something that brings people social recognition—such as to be a member
of a guild, of a profession, of a civic group. For this reason it is important
that group membership does not turn into a condition of adversity for some
and privilege for others. This is why, at the level of policymaking, our
society needs to be concerned with the balance of group representation,
and to make sure that leadership positions in civil society and the state are
not only open to, but also filled by, members of “underrepresented groups.”
Racial discrimination and prejudice, just like ethnic discrimination
and prejudice, are group-related forms bf discrimination. Individuals
caught in the web of ramapicestiead have at least
it: (1) try to disassociate as much as possible fr
from the discriminated
group, by adopting the values and norms of the dominant group, some-
times (though not necessarily) by |marrying a member of the dominant
group, or by assimilating “upward” into the dominant power; the cost of
this option could be the separation from relatives and friends who remain
trapped in the discriminated group, or the rejection of qualities in oneself
that “mark” one as a member of the discriminated group; (2) migrate
(translocate) to.a more congenial environment, which could signify a
more positive and less alienated form of assimilation; again, this is not
always a possible option, and there may not be environments sufficiently
free from prejudice to which one may migrate successfully; (3) work to
change the group status and to reconstitute group rights along a model of
fairness aimed at transforming the dominant society. The first two consti-
tute individual solutions; the third involves a social solution.
The work of Hispanic intellectuals engaged in Latino/Latin American
studies may constitute an intersection of (2) and (3). That is, we have
become sufficiently assimilated to work in the U.S. academy and do so
successfully. At the same time, we use our position, at least in part, to help
 Ofelia Schutte 339

sustain the recognition of Hispanic studies and, insofar as possible, sup-

port the inclusion of marginalized groups in various spheres of citizenship
activities, including higher education. This is tricky conceptually, because
even as we may refer to group rights or to the need for inclusion of mem-
bers of underrepresented groups in higher education, for example, what
we are actually doing is promoting conditions for the assimilation of mem-
bers of the underrepresented groups into the mainstream. The main dif-
ference between today and yesteryear, however, is that in the past the con-
ceptual framework marking the assimilation referred to persons gaining
inclusion in terms of their individual merits, whereas today the framework
is given, more often than not, by identifying persons as members of a
group deserving special attention.
If I am not mistaken, we seem to be living in an era whose cul-
tural-political profile is the assimilation of groups into one national and,
ultimately, global agenda. The inclusion of multiple perspectives one
hopes to promote by extending leadership positions to persons of differ-
ently constituted groups (by sex, race, or ethnicity) remains subordinate
to the goals of an impersonal “system” whose task is continually to
increase its performance through the incorporation of differences and the
delivery of new products for ever more extensive markets of consumption.
In other words, group segregation is giving way to group assimilation as
capitalism expands throughout the world without opposition, while in the
United States a percentage of individuals from economically marginalized
minorities joins the middle class. What we may be learning, however,
from the current global crisis in capitalist markets is that where assimila-
tion fails, the phenomenon that describes the position of the nonassimi-
lated is more one of “dropping off” than one of outright exclusion. Whole
nations, we are told, will simply drop off the global network of invest-
ments if they cannot adjust to the requirements and constraints estab-
lished by the International Monetary Fund. Charity toward the needy is
being ruled out. I suspect that somehow, in an analogous vein, the exten-
sion of entitlements to minority populations is predicated on the assump-
tion that these populations (or influential parts of them) will become a
highly productive part of the current socioeconomic system and will
indeed extend the market value of the system and its products to “devel-
oping” regions and populations.
Seen in this context, affirmative action initiatives are fundamentally
strategies of economic and cultural integration wherein previously mar-
ginalized or alienated populations (or segments thereof) are brought into
the mainstream of socioeconomic mores, work habits, and productive
activities. Affirmative action should be neither romanticized as the happy
path to fame and fortune for women and minorities, nor vilified as the tool
of special interests. One might look at it as a process of adjustment and
340 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

balancing for stimulating a nation’s economic indicators, much like what

happens when the Federal Reserve raises or lowers interest rates by a frac-
tion of a percent. Affirmative action involves the bet that the individuals
recruited by the system—a fraction of its minority populations—will stim-
ulate its growth and act as catalysts for the stability of the system. It is a
process that accommodates some cultural and political interests that may
otherwise be excluded and marginalized, in exchange for the revitalization
and increased efficacy of an excessively homogeneous system dominated
by whites, males, and the upper class. Of course, one has to believe one
wants a diversified cultural elite (by gender, race, economic background,
and ethnicity) in order for affirmative action programs to work. In a racist
and masculine-dominant environment, affirmative action will not be
taken seriously, and the leaders chosen will all look, think, and dress more
or less alike.
If we follow the logic that the goal of affirmative action is the integra-
tion of the marginalized into the mainstream, then looking further into the
future, it may be posited that in the long run this may lead to an indiffer-
ence toward the preservation of diversity as constituted by ethnic or racial
group membership. This is due to the fact that as groups become more
assimilated into the global system, what will become more valued is the
mobility of members across groups rather than their permanence or settle-
ment within them. This is why territorial enclaves with a large predomi-
nance of (homogeneously defined) group members, who form part of a
nation’s racial and ethnic minorities, are vulnerable to being targeted for
disfavor by the dominant economic establishment. The displacement of
community populations from old-time neighborhoods, for example, shows
that even the social structures of old barrios can be disbanded as upwardly
mobile property owners move in, rezone a neighborhood, and expel the
previous occupants toward ever more marginalized urban peripheries.
In the transitional phase in which we are living, a challenge for His-
panics is how to negotiate the tensions in our identities, taking into
account our drive to succeed in the midst of adverse conditions, our
interest in maintaining a meaningful degree of identification and solidarity
with other Hispanics and with Hispanic communities even as we are
assimilated into positions previously unoccupied by members of our
ethnic group, and the knowledge that full assimilation calls for the era-
sure, abolition, and/or further marginalization and displacement of our
groups. For example, in much popular (antidiversity) political rhetoric
today, it is argued that it is against (not for) the benefit of Latino children
to have Spanish taught in the schools, or that it is against (not for) the
interest of minorities to have programs of affirmative action. In other
words, one sees the trend today, except in enclaves where ethnic or racial
minority status is politically and economically quite strong, as in south
 Ofelia Schutte 341

Florida, toward the erosion of minority group rights in the name of

national unity and global citizenship.
My view is that, contrary to these indicators, it is in the best interest
of Hispanics to retain our ethnic/cultural identifications and insist on
some form of political representation based on group classifications. I say
this, however, with some important reservations, for, like technology,
which can either heal or kill, group classifications may be used for the
good, but also for great evil—as in holocausts, genocides, ethnic
cleansing, and massive discrimination. The classification of individuals
into groups for purposes of social policy control is subject to a number of
significant objections, including the fact that group identifications are vul-
nerable to manipulation, are subject to easy stereotyping, and in fact can
do violence to individuals who differ substantially from the mainstream
members of their groups. A different kind of objection with which I sym-
pathize is that if one classifies people according to their membership in
groups, in a racist society this will result in dividing people racially. There
may be nothing more abusive than to classify individuals according to
their racial features, especially if such features have had a long history of
being used to privilege some and oppress others.
In view of these qualifications and objections, I think the argument for
group rights should be derived from a broader principle of social justice,
and not from an appeal to the intrinsic property of groups. I say this ten-
tatively. But clearly, my tendency is to fortify not the concept of group
properties as such, but a different and broader principle that looks at cul-
tures in a broad scope, and then defends the concept of having a substrate
of differentiating elements in cultures, such as the plurality of languages,
the affirmation of historical-cultural precedents for individuals’ current
identifications, the extension of leadership positions to new constituencies
that challenge the narrow-mindedness of patterns of behavior inherited
from the past, and so on. In other words, the argument for “group rights”
would not be derived (at least principally) from (1) the existence of groups
or (2) the duty to preserve them (as, say, conservationists defend the
preservation of endangered species—an approach that, in the case of bio-
logical groups, or species rights, I take to be fully justified). Rather, the
argument would be derived from a conception guided by the principles of
a culturally pluralist, democratic society. Such a conception recognizes
that to deprive human beings of favorable conditions by which they can
be recognized for their specific linguistic and historical-cultural achieve-
ments and contributions is to inflict a degree of violence on them. From
an aesthetic-political standpoint, I tend to look at group differences as
products of a vital way of affirming the plurality of cultures, rather than
as a conservative apparatus used to demarcate, discipline, and police the
boundaries and identities of groups. This is an important distinction, some
342 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

of whose constitutive elements will be illustrated in the remaining part of

this [essay].

FROM BICULTURALITY TO HYBRID IDENTITIES

When my family moved to this country over thirty-five years ago, the term
used to refer to the successful integration of immigrants into U.S. society
was bicultural. Times have changed. The speed at which the mobility
across and the interaction among cultures, so as to reach multiple sites of
intersection among them, is taking place today has led to a paradigm
change from the concept of biculturality to that of hybrid identities. The
objective is no longer to master one, two, or more cultures as wholes, or
totalities, that one must integrate or else juxtapose to each other in a neat,
symmetrical fashion. The model is no longer to become a specimen of a
cultural kind, which is conceived as an integral whole, but rather to “shop
around” and become individuated by selecting from various aspects of
cultural practices and options we can participate in, as citizens of a
dynamic and changing multicultural society. This paradigm change from
a bicultural identity to a hybrid one, however,
applicable to the experiences of each and every Hispanic because of the
vast differences in the U.S. Latino population. This population includes,
among others, recently arrived immigrants, older immigrants (now U.S.
citizens), U.S.-born children of immigrants, descendants of residents of
Hispanic territories occupied by the United States in the Southwest/Pacific
area and Puerto Rico, children of unions between Latinos and other Amer-
icans of various races and ethnicities, and so on. The U.S. Latino today is
situated in a cultural space apt for the negotiation of identities. These
identities, as I classify them initially and somewhat freely, are: the assim-
ilationist identity, the culture-of-origin identity (whether applied to the
primary site of Hispanic identification within the United States—such as
Miami or New Jersey for Cuban Americans—or to the country of origin),
and the Latino identity. Clearly, it could be argued that at this point in his-
tory the Latino identity might function as a mediator of the other two.
This is its power but also its weakness, since the Latino identity is doubly
marginal: in one respect, it is marginal vis-a-vis the community/country/
culture of origin, be it Cuba or “Little Havana” in Miami, for example;
nevertheless, it is also marginal vis-a-vis the mainstream identity of the
Anglo-American U.S. citizen.
The const
of identity
ructi is so problematic
on that even as one
attempts to articulate and defend something one cares deeply about, one
is simultaneously “written,” or scripted, as something one is not—in the
sense of the limits and borders placed on identities, the media represen-
 Ofelia Schutte 343

tations that codify and distribute such identities, the consumer/marketing

demands that reproduce and expand them in the economic sector, and the
political platforms and interest groups organized to “represent” them. The
result is the construction of blocks of political and economic interests that
are no longer defined by individuals, but that rather define and limit the
identities the “Latino” may represent.
For this reason Hispanics
some are genuinely skeptical that the
promotion of Hispanic “identity” does them any good, given the vulnera-
bility these “identities” have to being manipulated by big business, polliti-
cians, and the corporate media. They see the commercialization of the
term Hispanic in the same way | might see the commercialization of the
term woman, realizing that under this label the markets are trying to sell
me something—a hairdo, an outfit, a way of life—that does not neces-
sarily fit my personal taste. I understand what this view is pointing to,
which is definitely a part of our reality in the contemporary world. But the
fact that the words woman and Hispanic may be politicized or commer-
cialized well beyond my taste, and even contrary to it, does not lead me
to stop describing myself with these terms. It does not lead me to reject
these categories even though I know that their stereotypes can offend me
or that I can feel very differently from what poses as the norm for each.
What it leads me to do is to adopt the principle of recognizing the internal
differences among women, Hispanics, Cuban Americans, or what have
you. This principle allows one to identify as a member of a group without
being coerced into compliance with the group’s image of its normative
type. For example, in some sectors of Hispanic culture one is expected to
approve of bullfights and cockfights, to enjoy eating the entrails of ani-
mals, or not to use birth control. I deplore bullfights and cockfights, I
follow a semivegetarian diet, and as a feminist, I believe a woman has a
right to the full control of her body in sexual and reproductive matters. Do
my views make me less of a Hispanic? I don’t think so. I share a cultural
history with many other Hispanic people, even if we may disagree about
some particular opinions. It is the sharing of the cultural history and my
investment in continuing the narrative of that cultural history, adding my
own modifications to it, that makes me a Hispanic. And yet I agree that
since the first time I filled out a form and marked the little box saying
“Hispanic,” and even prior to checking that box, the signifier “Hispanic”
and i tations have
marking
been me, no doubt.
Where this leaves me politically is with the awareness that with respect to
ethnicity, as with respect to gender or national origin, I must constantly
negotiate my identifications (my identity) in relation to the representation
and the political forces that mark me. In the concluding part of the [essay]
I offer a description of some of the tensions this negotiation entails.
344 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

IDENTITIES IN TENSION

In her now-classic work Borderlands/La Frontera, Gloria Anzaldua pro-

vides an illustration of the multifaceted identity of a Chicana feminist.
Anzaldua reflects on growing up in south Texas, where the Iegacies of dif-
ferent cultures intersect. She mentions how easy it is to be torn apart by
the variable and sometimes conflicting demands of a multicultural back-
ground composed of Indian, Mexican, and North American elements.
“Like all people,” she says, “we perceive the version of reality that our cul-
ture communicates. Like others having or living in more than one culture,
we get multiple, even opposing messages.” There is, above all, the pain
of realizing that domiia RA UAtA i dldasieneorrenobsiantead
the Mexican has oppressed the Indian, and the North American has
oppressed the other two. It is important for her to overcome the anger and
the resentment that can build up when she sees the ways Chicanos are
discriminated against. Anzaldua realizes one must be strong to fight and
overcome the effects of discrimination on one’s people and on one’s self.
In her own self, however, she has to bring together her complex identifi-
cations, and not let one or more of them exploit another. She has to create
a healing relationship between the Indian, the Chicana, and the North
American aspects of her self. I think that, apart from her psychological
attitude of inclusiveness and respect for all the different elements that
make up her self, she succeeds in creating this balance through the use of
language, alternating between English and Spanish in much of her prose,
from time to time using indigenous imagery to ground her thoughts. In
other words, in her writing and choice of how to define the topics she
writes about, mais 12S BRManoRetlrcmuamniecinn trseiitsanwetemonts
of her self. “The possibilities are numerous,” she writes, “once we decide
to act and not to react.”4 Yet she adds a warning in a mixed tongue: “Pero
es dificil differentiating between lo heredado, lo adquirido, lo impuesto”
(yet_it is difficult_to ale SLU between what is inherited, what is
-acquired, and what is
is imposed).>
Anzaldua’s example shows one creative way to approach the hetero-
geneity and mixture of elements in a person’s multicultural background.
In fact, she describes her consciousness as one that speaks up for “la
nueva mestiza” (the new mestiza), where the word mestiza already indi-
cates the concept of mixture. In referring to her position as that of “la
nueva mestiza” (emphasis added), a new cultural horizon is opened—one
that allows us to move to a larger category than “Chicana/Tejana.” The
concept of “mestiza” is transferable to the category “Latina,” which, like
“mestiza,” encompasses far more than a reference to Chicana feminists.
Since the 1980s “Latina” has been used increasingly to describe women of
 Ofelia Schutte 345

all Hispanic American backgrounds residing in the United States. It allows

Hispanic American women the use of a common designator, surpassing
the more specific designators of “Chicana,” “puertoriquena,” “Cubana-
Americana,” and so on. One question I raise regarding this new identity
category in terms of which we are often asked to speak and write as mem-
bers of the designated group is: What are we gaining and losing with the
use of the ethnic terms? What difference does it make, for example, if | ]
speak as a Cuban American or as a Latina in various contexts?
The answer to this question is not a simple one. To start the discus-
sion, let me raise another question: Is it the case that “Latina” references
our identity in terms of a minority population in the United States (that is,
taking the United States as a national entity), whereas a category such as
“Chicana,” “puertoriquena,” or “Cubana-Americana” references us in
terms of our home region or homeland (whether inside or outside the offi-
cial United States)? For example, is it the case that “puertoriquena” would
reference one with respect to the island culture or its diaspora, whereas
“Latina,” used to refer to the same person, would mark her as a minority
of Latin origin in the United States? And what are the connotations of
meaning taken by these signifiers of difference (since both signify a dif-
ference vis-a-vis the Anglo Americans in the United States)? What are the
social expectations accompanying one term or another? In my own case,
as a Cuban American, I ask: Is it the case that “Latina” functions as a
mark of difference with respect to the dominant sectors of North Amer-
ican society, whereas “cubanqg” functions as something that gives me his-
torical roots and the mark of a freedom-loving people? As these terms
apply to my life, “Latina” is a signifier of the demand for inclusion;
“‘cubana” is a signifier of the demand for freedom. As the representation
of these two ethnic identities intersect in my life, sometimes they are in
agreement, yet they can also be in conflict, for it is easy to see that the
demand for inclusion could lead to a loss of freedom, and the demand for
freedom to a loss of inclusion. In this context, one may note that both the
socialist and the anti-Communist Cubans (despite their disparate objec-
tives) have preferred to take the consequences of exclusion rather than
accept inclusion into a dominant order where they do not feel free.
Cubans in the island and those “in exile” have responded, however dif-
ferently, to the political heritage of José Marti, whose vision of culture was
essentially linked to the exercise of freedom.® Marti believed that a people
should be educated for the practice of freedom. One could push this
thought to the limit, raising this question: If the order of representation
into which one is likely to be included does not permit one’s freedom (or
one’s freedom as grounded in citizen participation in a sovereign nation,
as Marti believed), what sense does it make to demand inclusion in it?
The conflict or tension between one’s homeland heritage and one’s
346 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

“minority” condition in the translocated environment does not end here

for Hispanic women. As in the case of all women living in masculine-dom-
inant societies, whether these be of Hispanic or some other cultural her-
itage, the body of woman is overdetermined by a masculine orientation in
social symbolism. For example, the cubana’s body is free but it is also a
symbol of service to the patria, the fatherland. When subordinated to
North American values, in contrast, the Latina’s body is represented as
undergoing liberation through assimilation in North American culture and
its more individualistic values, yet it is also represented as a racialized
(nonwhite) body, as an exotically sexual body, or as an impoverished,
health-risk body in need of special assistance from the public health ser-
vices. As Latina women, we have to negotiate our identity constantly in
the midst of a complex of stereotypes that include masculine-dominant
expectations (both Hispanic and non-Hispanic) as to what a woman
should do with her body, in addition to undertaking another whole set of
negotiations with respect to what a woman will do with her mind and
how she will apply her intelligence.
In the imagined and existential horizons of Latino as well as Anglo-
American moral expectations, ethical concepts such as freedom and jus-
tice can easily acquire one standard meaning for males, another for
females. The moral virtues, such as prudence, love, and fairness, are
engendered in their social codification, just as their social meaning also
reflects a class stratification. Patriarchal gender ideology has understood
sexual difference primarily through the symbolism of gender complemen-
tarity. The masculine and the feminine are viewed essentially as comple-
mentary, just as the feminine is essentially tied to the maternal. These
views reinforce the view that heterosexuality and the woman's body as
destined for motherhood are necessary requirements for a woman to be in
good standing before the cultural community. It isn’t until a culture pro-
vides alternative ways of constructing personal identity and gender identi-
ties—usually by introducing another principle of legitimization women
can appeal to in order to justify new gender behaviors—that the old-fash-
ioned gender requirements begin to get broken. This means that alterna-
tive gender cultures must be built and established that will break the hege-
mony, at the national or local level, of the body of woman serving to illus-
trate the unspoken myths of the nation or the community.” The body of
woman needs to be disconnected from its instrumental role in the pursuit
of national or ethnic objectives and given back to the women themselves.
Thus the positions of reproductive choice, the right to pursue a person’s
sexual orientation, the rights to divorce, remarriage, and so on, constitute
important developments in democratic culture, for a free person cannot
exist without the right to regulate freely the affairs of her own sexuality
and her own body. The traditionalists’ appeal to culture in order to counter
 Ofelia Schutte 347

a woman’s right to these freedoms is just as inappropriate as the appeal to

culture to limit a subaltern race from receiving rights to full personhood.

LATINAS AND RACE

With respect to the body of the Latina, some feminist writers have
reported a racialized objectification of their bodies and persons.8 As a par-
tial answer to this problem, feminists in the United States have set forth
the category “women of color” as a positive, empowering term to desig-
nate women whose backgrounds are Asian, African, Indo-American, and
Hispanic.
The degree to which the category “women of color” has been
embraced by a large number of Latinas in the United States appears to
indicate that this category works well for many people. Still, for Latinas
who are white, thiscategory may represent_a problem, at least “Initially.
Much more clarification and discussion are needed to determine what
meaning those of us who are directly affected by the use of these terms
want to give this category. Here I address two concerns. The first is to rec-
ommend that the category {women of color,’ be_used critically. It should
not rest on a binary opposition between white and nonwhite, wherein it
is assumed that unless a woman is white, she is a woman of color. To
maintain this binary, where white is also hierarchized over nonwhite, is
to reproduce the ideology that white is the norm and brown, yellow, red,
black, and mixed race are the marks of difference. This way of thinking,
which reproduces the vestiges of racism, limits the Latina’s voice to the
repeated demand for inclusion in an order of representation marking her
s “other.” Instead, the meaning of “women of color” needs to assume a
political significance, as it generally does in feminist theory, with respect
to the agency of women in racially and ethnically marginalized groups
who actively oppose racism, sexism, cultural imperialism, heterosexism,
and so on.?
The second concern is addressed to the tendency to reduce “women
of color” to “nonwhite women,” the result of which is to identify Latinas
as nonwhite. Unless it is stipulated by definition that all Latinas are non-
white, it will be observed that some Latinas are white. Why is this so?
“Latina,” which signifies one’s cultural heritage, refers to people of a great
many racial configurations and mixtures. The caution here would be not
to collapse all ethnic or cultural categories into racial categories (as when
a cultural category, “Latina,” is collapsed into the racial category “non-
white”). Moreover, it is important to keep in mind that features associated
with groups are not necessarily distributed evenly among individuals per-
taining to such groups. This principle applies when making generaliza-
348 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

tions about culture, race, and geography. For instance, just as it would be
inappropriate to say that New Yorkers (as individuals) are not white
because the group “New Yorkers” contains people of many different races,
so it is inappropriate to say that Latin Americans (as individuals) are not
is multiracial. We need to be
Americans”
white, because the group “Latin
cauti ous
about generalizations that fail to take into account the internal
differences within groups, just as we need to be watchful regarding how
various groups in different parts of the world exercise and reproduce their
own forms of racism against vulnerable populations.
But what if “Latina” (in the United States) should come to be under-
stood only in the sense of “woman of color”? Could “color” refer to a cer-
tain way of relating to people and to a culture, without a direct correlation
to the “color” of one’s skin? Should white Latinas in the United States be
excluded from the category “Latina”? I do not think so, because we come
from a mestizo culture, and this culture is profoundly infectious (in the pos-
itive sense), that is, it is deep in our psyches. At least those of us who are
committed to celebrating the inclusion of indigenous, Afro-Latin, and mes-
tizo elements of Latino cultures will continue speaking from the Latina
position. In my case, I cannot pretend to speak as a nonwhite person
because I have not suffered in my body the kind of racialized discrimina-
tion routinely affecting many other Hispanics. Still, 1know what it is to feel
ethnic discrimination in terms of my cultural differences and particularly as
an immigrant. There is a part of me that would like to say I am nonwhite
in solidarity with all the Hispanics—as well as women, men, and children
of other ethnic, national, and racial groups—who have definitely suffered
the profound effects of racial discrimination. Yet I stop myself from going
so far because I write from my own lived experience, and with respect to
race I have a relative privilege many others have not enjoyed. Each one of
us has a different history of assimilation and discrimination. If we follow
the recognition of internal differences I mentioned earlier, this principle will
allow us to speak as Latinas and Latinos, though not all our experiences
are identical. The differences among us are important in the degree to
which they make us strong. The consciousness of the differences in the
way we have been discriminated against—by class, color, gender, sexual
orientation, accent, migration status, national origin, and so on—make us
stronger as a collective when it comes to denouncing injustice than if we
limited the Latino identity only to those who were most down-and-out, pri-
marily the poverty-stricken, non-English-speaking population. In fact, it is
a strategy of hegemonic power to try to limit the acceptable categories of
what counts as discrimination to the minimum of instances and to the most
extreme and dire cases of need, precisely so that the multiple forms of dis-
crimination currently existing in our daily lives, and not fitting the extreme
category of the supra-oppressed, remain unredressed and invisible.
 Ofelta Schutte 349

RECONCILING DIFFERENCES

Finally, and speaking about the heterogeneity of Latino voices, as a

Cuban-American individual I confess I have spent’a good part of the last
fifteen years of my life simply negotiating the meaning of this small
hyphen that stands between my Cuban and U.S. identities. I have often
thought of the political/ideological relation between these two terms &, ¢ geet
(Cuba and the United States) as the greatest binary, something con-
structed as a hard political opposition where a person must choose one or
the other but not both. In the eyes of the self-identified “exile,” even a
family visit to a relative in Cuba or a visit to the island for personal rea-
sons may qualify as collaboration with “Communism” and the island’s
political regime. This interpretation of Cuban Americans’
An reality, however,
denies the differences existing both within the Cuban-American popula-
tion and within the population of Cubans living in Cuba.!° It represents a
construct projecting an inflexible reading on the meaning of individuals’
variously motivated activities and desires, including the desire to travel to
hard-to-reach places and see things firsthand, in terms of one’s on-site,
concrete, embodied experience.!! These activities and desires have a per-
sonal meaning for each individual and cannot be legislated for individuals
by a political group.
My views on Cuba resemble the mainstream views of Canadians,
Mexicans, and Europeans (to choose only some examples). It should be
up to individuals themselves whether or not they choose to travel to Cuba,
including how often they want to travel. The control of information on
Cuba for propaganda purposes is much more likely to take place when
travel is restricted than when travel is open and free. I want to have a
normal relationship to my country of birth and to the people who live
there, which also includes some family members. One of the hardest ele-
ments in the negotiation of my Latina identity was getting my relatives in
Miami to accept the fact that I was going to travel to Cuba, visit relatives,
revisit the sites of my childhood, and participate in international confer-
ences there (all acceptable though not necessarily recommended activities
as far as the U.S. government is concerned). In this context, I have found
the Hispanic-Latina identity very comforting, because it allows me to
speak as a Latina in terms of a broader group whose political views are
not homogeneous and whose conception of culture recognizes the diver-
sity of Latino/a experiences.!4 The Latina identification encourages me to
recover my early childhood roots in my culture of origin, without forcing
me, as a Cuban American, to split my cultural legacy, in terms of national
origin, into two irreconcilable political halves. In this case, the Latina
identity has provided me with a freedom and an opportunity that the polit-
350 Part IV: The Search for Identity-A. The Nation and the People

ical pressures on the expression of my Cuban-American identity made

very difficult, if not impossible.

CONCLUSION

The concept of negotiating identities is one that feminists have employed

in discussions of the politics of location. Insofar as movements such as
identity politics have become part of the political discourse in the United
States, so have feminists’ efforts to maintain a healthy distance from what
I could call “essentialized locations.” We have learned to look at identities
through the lenses of historical, cultural, economic, and other character-
istics. Thanks to women of different sexual orientations, to women of dif-
ferent racial and ethnic backgrounds, to young and aging women, we have
learned to look at the differences within groups and not just at the
external differences among groups. If identities are products of history and
culture and if one is not born with an essential identity written up in
heaven and destined to be carried out for the term of one’s life, then,
given the right historical circumstances, a person can negotiate her way
through the different pressures, conflicts, and tensions that bear on her
concept of self as well as on her ongoing understanding of her social and
political identity. Opportunities for transformative experiences where one
fights one’s way through the many trappings of ideology are needed if
there is to be personal growth. In particular, I have tried to argue that it is
important to resist the pressure to fit into collective identities already pre-
defined for us and where we are thought to belong by virtue of our race,
gender, ethnicity, class, nation, or religion. Without losing sight of the role
of these variables and, in the case of Hispanics, while retaining our com-
mitment to the defense of our cultural history and the continued relevance
of the Spanish language in a multicultural, multiethnic, and multiracial
society, the critique of essentialism has taught us to be suspicious of
orthodoxy and to consider the full political implications—as well as
opportunities for personal fulfillment—associated with the
identities-in-the-making we ascribe to ourselves.

NOTES
1. In this essay, Latino and Hispanic have been used interchangeably.
Throughout the paper, | am taking identity in the sense of the specificity of a
person’s self-image and values, rather than in a metaphysical sense of a oneness
that exists in the midst of change and variations. The types of identities that are
the focus of this paper are in fact identities in tension, unresolved identities. It is
 Ofelia Schutte 351

only because a human being occupies multiple social roles and because there can
be an imperfect fit between these roles or between the individual and the roles she
is forced to occupy that the question arises, how do I negotiate my way through
these different expectations? Moreover, how does one establish priorities among
potentially conflicting expectations and roles?
2. Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks (New York: Grove, 1967), pp.
111-14.
3. Gloria Anzaldua, Borderlands/La Frontera (San Francisco: Aunt Lute,
1987), p. 78.
4. Ibid., p. 79.
5. Ibid., p. 82.
6. Marti’s political speeches and articles were often very pedagogical,
insofar as he held that if others, including and especially North Americans, learned
about the Cuban people’s love of freedom, they would support and respect the
Cubans’struggle against colonialism. For example, see the letter to the New York
Herald dated May 2, 1895, signed by José Marti and Maximo Gomez, in their
respective roles as the delegate of the Cuban Revolutionary Party and the chief of
the Liberatory Army in the Cuban war of independence against Spain. José Marti,
Politica de Nuestra América (Mexico: Siglo XXI, 1979), pp. 284-92.
7. Compare Norma Alarcon, “Traddutora, Traditora: A Paradigmatic Figure
of Chicana Feminism,” in Scattered Hegemonies, ed. Inderpal Grewal and Caren
Kaplan (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), pp. 110-33.
8. See particularly Maria Lugones and Elizabeth V. Spelman, “Have We Got
a Theory for You! Feminist Theory, Cultural Imperialism and the Demand for ‘the
Woman’s Voice,” Women’s Studies International Forum 6, no. 6 (1983): 573-81;
Marta Lugones, “Playfulness, ‘World-Travelling, and Loving Perception,” Hypatia:
A Journal of Feminist Philosophy 2, no. 2 (1987): 3-19.
9. The oppositional sense is used by Lugones in the article coauthored with
Spelman. But note that even here the Hispana’s chief or primary concern is the
“complaint of exclusion” (Lugones and Spelman, “Have We Got a Theory for
You!” p. 575). Thus the Latina voice comes to symbolize what I note both here
and above as the demand for inclusion (with recognition of specific differences).
The oppositional sense of “woman of color” can also be extended further to sig-
nify opposition to a racist “heteropatriarchy.” This latter meaning can elicit the
cooperation of politically progressive people across racial categories and sexual
orientations. Nevertheless, it may alienate members of minority groups who do
not identify primarily as feminist, queer, gay, or lesbian.
10. For an example of the diversification of points of view among Cubans and
Cuban Americans, see Ruth Behar, ed., Bridges to Cuba/Puentes a Cuba (Ann
Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1995).
11. It is insufficient to relate to a place of origin relying only on personal
memories, photographs, videos and movies, radio reports, newsprint, or narratives
of others who recently have lived in that place, though this is not to say that the
former are not helpful. As long as human beings are embodied beings, full contact
with a geographical site involves the ability to visit it at least on occasion.
12. There are in fact many internal differences among Cuban Americans, though
on the issue of U.S. policy toward Cuba the predominant view is conservative.
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Leopoldo Zea
(b. 1912)

[coo Zea was born in Mexico City, where he studied with

Antonio Caso, Samuel Ramos, and later with the Spanish exile José
Gaos. He is currently a professor at the Universidad Nacional Aut6énoma
de Mexico. In 2000 he was awarded the Belisario Dominguez medal from
the Mexican government. He has also received honorary degrees from the
Universidad de Santiago (Chile), the Universidad de la Habana (Cuba),
and the National University of Athens (Greece), as well as recognition
from the Venezuelan government for his contributions to Latin American
thought.
These awards come at the end of a life devoted to the cultivation of
intellectual life in Mexico and beyond. Zea was the organizer of the philo-
sophical group Hiperidn, which had as its aim the establishment of a phi-
losophy based on the examination of the Mexican man and his character-
istics. Among the thinkers who took part in this group and who followed
Zea’s direction are Emilio Uranda, Ricardo Guerra, Joaquin McGregor,
Jorge Portilla, Luis Villoro, and Fausto Vega.
The first of Zea’s important works was El positivismo en Mexico
(1943), which was his master’s thesis. In the next year, his doctoral thesis,
Apogeo y decadencia del positivismo en México (1944), appeared. He
wrote this under the supervision of the Spanish transterrado, José Gaos.
Through Gaos, the work of the Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset
had a strong influence on the development of Zea’s views. One of Ortega’s
most important insights was that in order to understand ourselves, we
must understand our circumstance. Zea developed this view while
studying the history of Mexican philosophy and reflecting upon the spe-
cific historical circumstances from which it emerged.
Among Zea’s most important books are En torno a una filosofia Amer-

aes
356 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

icana (1945), La filosofia como compromiso y otros ensayos (1952), Con-

ciencia y posibilidad del mexicano (1952), América como conciencia
(1953), La filosofia en Mexico (1955), La filosofia sin mds (1969), Lati-
noameérica: Tercer Mundo (1977), Discurso desde la marginacion y la bar-
barie (1988), and Descubrimiento e identidad latinoamericana (1990).
Many of his works have been translated into English, and he published
several articles early in his career in North American philosophical jour-
nals.
His thought focuses upon a very particular conception of philosophy.
Philosophy for him is not a system of abstract and theoretical proposi-
tions, but the product of “men of flesh and bones struggling in their own
circumstances.” Every philosophy, according to Zea, emerges from spe-
cific historical situations; this is why one must reflect upon such circum-
stances in order to understand reality.
Zea was one of the first Latin American thinkers explicitly concerned
with the search for the identity of Latin American thought. The first of the
two articles by him included here is one of the earliest he published on
the subject of the search for identity. It was groundbreaking. His position,
based on a culturalist point of view, categorically affirms the existence of
a Latin American philosophy. Zea argues that every form of thought
emerging in Latin America is Latin American philosophy. The reason is
that Latin American thought arises from specifically historical Latin Amer-
ican circumstances and addresses those circumstances.
The second article addresses specific moments in the history of Latin
American countries; the colonization and the fight for independence from
colonial powers, and the struggle to assert a cultural identity and to free
the countries of Latin America from dependence upon other powers. In
this article, Zea discusses a topic that is central to his thought, mestizaje.
The term mestizaje points to Zea’s interest in issues related to race and
culture, and Zea uses the term to open a philosophical discussion con-
cerning the identity of a person who is of both Spanish and indigenous
heritage. As issues of race have recently become more central in philos-
ophy, Zea’s contributions are more relevant than ever.
The Actual Function of
Philosophy in Latin America

S ome years ago, a young Mexican teacher published a book that caused
much sensation. This young teacher was Samuel Ramos and the book
was El perfil del hombre y la cultura en México. This book was the first
attempt at interpreting Mexican culture. In it Mexican culture became the
subject of philosophical interpretation. Philosophy came down from the
world of ideal entities to a world of concrete entities like Mexico, a symbol
of men who live and die in their cities and farms. This daring attempt was
derogatorily termed literature. Philosophy could not be anything other than
a clever game of words taken from an alien culture. These words of course
lacked meaning: the meaning they had for that alien culture.
Years later another teacher, this time the Argentinian Francisco
Romero, emphasized Ibero-America’s need to begin thinking about its
own issues, and the need to delve into the history of its culture in order
to take from it the issues needed for the development of a new type of
philosophical concern. This time, however, Romero’s call was based on a
series of cultural phenomena that he identified in an essay entitled “Sobre
la filosoffa en Iberoamerica.” In this article he showed how the interest in
philosophical issues in Latin America was increasing on a daily basis. The
public at large now follows and asks with interest for works of a philo-
sophical character and nature. This has resulted in numerous publica-
tions—books, journals, newspaper articles, etc.—and also in the creation
of institutes and centers for philosophical studies where philosophy is

From Leopoldo Zea, Ensayos sobre filosofta en la historia (Mexico City: Stylo, 1948), pp.
165-77. Originally published in Cuadernos Americanos (1942). Reprinted by permission of
the author.

27
358 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

practiced. This interest in philosophy stands in sharp contrast with

periods when such an activity was confined to a few misunderstood men.
Their activity did not transcend literary or academic circles. Today, we
have reached the level that Romero calls “the period of philosophical nor-
malcy,” that is, a period in which the practice of philosophy is seen as a
function of culture just as is the case with any other activity of a cultural
nature. The philosopher ceases to be an eccentric whom nobody cares to
understand and becomes a member of his country’s culture. There is what
one may call a “philosophical environment,” that is, a public opinion that
judges philosophical production, thus forcing it to address the issues that
concern those who are part of this so-called public opinion.
Now, there is one particular issue that concerns not only a few men
in our continent, but the Latin American man in general. This issue con-
cerns the possibility or impossibility. of Latin American culture, and, as an
aspect of the same issue, the possibility or impossibility of Latin American
philosophy. Latin American philosophy can exist if there is a Latin Amer-
ican culture from which this philosophy may take its issues. The existence
of Latin American philosophy depends on whether or not there is Latin
American culture. However, the formulation and attempt to solve this
problem, apart from the affirmative or negative character of the answer,
are already Latin American philosophy, since they are an attempt to
answer affirmatively or negatively a Latin American question. Hence, the
works of Ramos, Romero, and others on this issue, whatever their con-
clusions, are already Latin American philosophy.
The issue involved in the possibility of Latin American culture is one
demanded by our time and the historical circumstances in which we find
ourselves. The Latin American man had not thought much about this
issue before because it did not worry him. A Latin American culture, a cul-
ture proper to the Latin American man, was considered to be an irrelevant
issue; Latin America lived comfortably under the shadow of European cul-
ture. However, the latter culture has been shaken (or is in crisis) today,
and it seems to have disappeared from the entire European continent. The
Latin American man who had lived so comfortably found that the culture
that supported him fails him, that he has no future, and that the ideas in
which he believed have become useless artifacts, without sense, lacking
value even for their own authors. The man who had lived with so much
confidence under a tree he had not planted now finds himself in the open
when the planter cuts down the tree and throws it into the fire as useless.
The man now has to plant his own cultural tree, create his own ideas. But
a culture does not emerge miraculously; the seed of that culture must be
taken from somewhere, it must belong to someone. Now—and this is the
issue that concerns the Latin American man—where is he going to find
that seed? That is, what ideas is he going to develop? To what ideas is he
 Leopoldo Zea 359

going to give his faith? Will he continue to believe and develop the ideas
inherited from Europe? Or is there a group of ideas and issues to be devel-
oped that are proper to the Latin American circumstance? Or rather, will
he have to invent those ideas? In a word, the problem of the existence, or
lack of existence, of ideas that are proper to America, as well as the
problem of the acceptance or rejection of ideas belonging to European cul-
ture that is now in crisis, comes to the fore. Specifically, the problem of
the relationship between Latin America and European culture, and the
problem of the possibility for a genuinely Latin American ideology.

In light of what has been said it is clear that one of the primary issues
involved in Latin American philosophy concerns the relations between Latin
America and European culture. Now, the first thing that needs to be asked
has to do with the type of relations that Latin America has with that culture.
There are some who have compared this relationship to that between Asia
and European culture. It is said that Latin America, just as Asia, has assim-
ilated only technology from Europe. But if this is so, what would belong to
Latin American culture? For the Asian man, what he has adopted from Euro-
pean culture is regarded as something superimposed that he has had to
assimilate owing to the change in his own circumstance caused in turn by
European intervention. However, what he has adopted from European cul-
ture is not properly the culture, that is, a lifestyle, a worldview, but only its
instruments, its technology. Asians know that they have inherited an age-old
culture that has been transmitted from generation to generation; they know
that they have their own culture. Their view of the world is practically the
opposite of the European. From Europeans they have only adopted their
technology, and only because they have been forced to do so by the inter-
vention of Europeans and their technology in a circumstance that is prop-
erly Asian. Our present day shows what Asians can do with their own
worldview while using European technology. Asians have little concern for
the future of European culture, and they will try to destroy it if they feel that
it gets in their way or continues to intervene in what they regard as their
own culture. Now, can we Latin Americans think in a similar way about
European culture? To think so is to believe that we have our own culture,
but that this culture has not perhaps reached full expression yet because
Europe has prevented it. In light of this, one could think that this is a good
time to achieve cultural liberation. If that were the case, the crisis of Euro-
pean culture would not concern us. More than a problem, such a crisis
would be a solution. But this is not the case: we are deeply concerned about
the crisis of European culture; we experience it as our own crisis.
360 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

This is due to the fact that our relationship with European culture as
Latin Americans is different from that of the Asians. We do not feel, as
Asians do, the heirs of our own autochthonous culture. There was, yes, an
indigenous culture—Aztec, Maya, Inca, etc.—but this culture does not
represent, for us contemporary Latin Americans, the same thing that
ancient Oriental culture represents for contemporary Asians. While Asians
continue to view the world as their ancestors did, we Latin Americans do
not view the world as the Aztecs or the Mayans did. If we did, we would
have the same devotion for pre-Columbian temples and divinities that an
Oriental has for his very ancient gods and temples. A Mayan temple is as
alien and meaningless to us as a Hindu temple.
What belongs to us, what is properly Latin American, is not to be
found in pre-Columbian culture. Is it to be found in European culture?
Now, something strange happens to us in relation to European culture: we
use it but we do not consider it ours; we feel imitators of it. Our way of
thinking, our worldview, is similar to the European. European culture has
a meaning for us that we do not find in pre-Columbian culture. Still, we
do not feel it to be our own. We feel as bastards who profit from goods to
which they have no right. We feel as if we were wearing someone else’s
clothes: they are too big for our size. We assimilate their ideas but cannot
live up to them. We feel that we should realize the ideals of European cul-
ture, but we also feel incapable of carrying out the task: we are content
with admiring them and thinking that they are not made for us. This is the
knot of our problem: we do not feel heirs of an autochthonous culture,
because that culture has no meaning for us; and that which has meaning
for us, like the European, does not feel as our own. There is something
that makes us lean toward European culture while at the same time resists
becoming part of that culture. Our view of the world is European but we
perceive the achievements of that culture as alien. And when we try to
realize its ideals in Latin America we feel as imitators.
What is properly ours, what is Latin American, makes us lean toward
Europe and at the same time resists being Europe. Latin America leans
toward Europe as a son to his father, but at the same time it resists
becoming like his own father. This resistance is noticeable in that, despite
leaning toward European culture, Latin America still feels like an imitator
when it seeks to achieve what that culture does. It does not feel that it is
realizing what is proper to it but only what Europe alone can achieve.
That is why we feel inhibited by and inferior to Europeans. The malaise
resides in that we perceive what is Latin American, that is, what is ours,
as something inferior. The Latin American man’s resistance to being like
a European is felt as an incapacity. We think as Europeans, but we do not
feel that this is enough; we also want to achieve the same things that
Europe achieves. The malaise is that we want to adjust the Latin Amer-
 Leopoldo Zea 361

ican circumstance to a conception of the world inherited from Europe,

rather than adjusting that conception of the world to the Latin American
circumstance. Hence the divorce between ideas and reality. We need the
ideas of European culture, but when we bring them into our circumstance
we find them to be too big because we do not dare to fit them to this cir-
cumstance. We find them big and are afraid to cut them down; we prefer
to endure the ridicule of wearing an oversize suit. Indeed, until recently
the Latin American man wanted to forget what he is for the sake of
becoming another European. This is similar to the case of a son who
wants to forget being a son in order to be his own father: the result has to
be a gross imitation. This is what the Latin American man feels: that he
has tried to imitate rather than to realize his own personality.
Alfonso Reyes portrays the Latin American man’s resistance to being
Latin American with great humor. The Latin American man felt “in addi-
tion to the misfortune of being human and modern, the very specific mis-
fortune of being Latin American; that is, having been born and having
roots in a land that was not the center of civilization, but rather a branch
of it.”! To be a Latin American was until very recently a great misfortune,
because this did not allow us to be European. Today it is just the oppo-
site: the inability to become European, in spite of our great efforts, allows
us to have a personality; it allows us to learn, in this moment of crisis for
European culture, that there is something of our own that can give us sup-
port. What this something is should be one of the issues that a Latin
American philosophy must investigate.

Latin America is the daughter of European culture; it is the product of one

of its major crises. The discovery of America* was not a matter of chance,
but rather the product of necessity. Europe needed America: in every
European mind there was the idea of America, the idea of a promised
land. A land where the European man could place his ideas, since he
could no longer continue to place them in the highest places. He could no
longer place them in the heavens. Owing to the emergence of a new
physics, the heavens were no longer the home of ideals but rather became
something unlimited, a mechanical and therefore dead infinity. The idea
of an ideal world came down from heaven and landed in America. Hence
the European man came out in search of the land and he found it.
The European needed to rid himself of a worldview of which he was
tired. He needed to get rid of his past and begin a new life. He needed to
build a new history, one that would be well planned and calculated,
without excess or wanting. What the European was afraid of openly
362 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

proposing in his own land, he took for granted in this land called America.
America became the pretext for criticizing Europe. What he wanted
Europe to be became imaginarily fulfilled in America. Fantastic cities and
governments that corresponded to the ideals of the modern man were
imagined in America. America was presented as the idea of what Europe
should be. America became Europe’s utopia. It became the ideal world
that the old Western world was to follow to rebuild itself. In a word,
America was the ideal creation of Europe.
America was born to history as a land of projects, as a land of the
future, but of projects and a future that were not its own. Such projects
and such future were Europe’s. The European man who put his feet in this
America—becoming part of the Latin American circumstance and giving
rise to the Latin American man—has been unable to see what is properly
American. He has only seen what Europe wanted America to be. When he
did not find what European imagination had placed in the American con-
tinent, he was disappointed, and this produced the uprooting of the Latin
American man from his own circumstance. The Latin American man feels
European by origin, but he feels inferior to the European man by reason
of his circumstance. He feels inadequate because he regards himself as
superior to his circumstance, but inferior to the culture he comes from. He
feels contempt for things Latin American, and resentment toward Europe.
Rather than attempting to achieve what is proper to Latin America,
the Latin American man labors to achieve the European utopia and thus
stumbles, as it could be expected, into a Latin American reality that resists
being anything other than what it is: Latin America. This gives rise to the
feeling of inferiority about which we already have spoken. The Latin
American man considers his reality to be inferior to what he believes to
be his destiny. In Anglo-Saxon America this feeling expresses itself in the
desire to achieve what Europe has achieved in order to satisfy its own
needs. North America has strived to become a second Europe, a magni-
fied copy of it. Original creation does not matter, what matters is to
achieve the European models in a big way and with the greatest perfec-
tion. Everything is reduced to numbers: so many dollars or so many
meters. In the end, the only thing that is sought with this is to hide a
feeling of inferiority. The North American tries to show that he is as
capable as the European. And the way to show it is by doing the same
things that Europeans have done, on a bigger scale and with greater tech-
nical perfection. But this only demonstrates technical, not cultural ability,
because cultural ability is demonstrated in the solution one gives to the
problems of man’s existence, and not in the technical imitation of solu-
tions that other men found for their own problems.
The Latin American man, however, feels inferior not only to the Euro-
pean, but also to the North American man. Not only does he no longer try
 Leopoldo Zea 363

to hide his feeling of inferiority, but he also exhibits it through self-deni-

gration. The only thing that he has tried to do so far is to live comfortably
under the shadow of ideas he knows are not his own. To him, ideas do not
matter as much as the way to benefit from them. That is why our politics
have turned into bureaucracy. Politics is no longer an end but an instru-
ment to get a job in the bureaucracy. Banners and ideals do not matter any-
more; what matters is how these banners and ideals can help us get the job
we want. Hence the miraculous and quick change of banners; whence also
that we always plan and project but we never achieve definitive results. We
are continually experimenting and projecting with always-changing ideolo-
gies. There is no single national plan because there is no sense of nation.
And there is no sense of nation for the same reason that there is no sense
of what is Latin American. He who feels inferior as Latin American also
feels inferior as a national, that is, as a member of one of the Latin Amer-
ican nations. This is not to say that the fanatic nationalist who talks about
a Mexican, Argentinian, Chilean, or any other Latin American nation’s cul-
ture, to the exclusion of anything that smacks of foreign, has any better
sense of what a nation is. No, in the end he would only try to eliminate
what makes him feel inferior. This is the case of those who say that this is
the appropriate time to eliminate everything European from our culture.
This position is wrong because, whether we want it or not, we are the
children of European culture. From Europe we have received our cultural
framework, what could be called our structure: language, religion, customs;
in a word, our conception of life and world is European. To become disen-
gaged from it would be to become disengaged from the heart of our per-
sonality. We can no more deny that culture than we can deny our parents.
And just as we have a personality that makes us distinct from our parents
without having to deny them, we should also be able to have a cultural per-
sonality without having to deny the culture of which we are children. To be
aware of our true relations with European culture eliminates our sense of
inferiority and gives us instead a sense of responsibility. This is the feeling
that animates the Latin American man today. He feels that he has “come of
age,” and, as any other man who reaches maturity, he acknowledges that
he has a past that he does not need to deny, just as no one is ashamed of
having had a childhood. The Latin American man knows himself to be the
heir of Western culture and now demands a place in it. The place that he
demands is that of collaborator. As a son of that culture he no longer wants
to live off it but to work for it. Alfonso Reyes, speaking on behalf of a Latin
America that feels responsible, demanded from Europe “the right of uni-
versal citizenship that we have already conquered,” because already “we
have come of age.”3 Latin America is at a point in its history when it must
realize its cultural mission. To determine this mission constitutes another
issue that what we have called Latin American philosophy has to develop.
364 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

Once we know our cultural relations with Europe, another task for this
possible Latin American philosophy would be to continue to develop the
philosophical issues of that culture, but most especially the issues that
European philosophy regards as universal. That is, issues whose level of
abstraction allows them to be valid at any time and at any place. Among
such issues are those of being, knowledge, space, time, God, life, death,
etc. A Latin American philosophy can collaborate with Western culture by
attempting to resolve the problems posed by the issues that European phi-
losophy has not been able to resolve, or to which it has failed to find a
satisfactory solution. Now, it could be said—particularly by those who are
interested in building up a philosophy with a Latin American character—
that this cannot be of interest to a philosophy concerned with what is
properly Latin American. This is not true, however, because both the
issues that we have called universal and the issues that are peculiar to the
Latin American circumstance are very closely linked. When we discuss
the former we need also to discuss the latter. The abstract issues will have
to be seen from the Latin American man’s own circumstance. Each man
will see in such issues what is closest to his own circumstance. He will
look at these issues from the standpoint of his own interests, and those
interests will be determined by his way of life, his abilities and inabilities,
in a word, by his own circumstance. In the case of Latin America, his con-
tribution to the philosophy of such issues will be permeated by the Latin
American circumstance. Hence, when we address abstract issues, we shall
formulate them as issues of our own. Even though being, God, etc., are
issues appropriate for every man, the solution to them will be given from
a Latin American standpoint. We may not say what these issues mean for
every man, but we can say what they mean for us Latin Americans. Being,
God, death, etc., would be what these abstractions mean for us.
It should not be forgotten that all European philosophy has worked on
these issues on the assumption that their solutions would be universal.
However, the product has been an aggregate of philosophies very different
from each other. Despite their universalistic goals, the product has been a
Greek philosophy, a Christian philosophy, a French philosophy, a British
philosophy, and a German philosophy. Likewise, independently of our
attempts to realize a Latin American philosophy and despite our efforts to
provide universal solutions, our solutions will bear the mark of our own
circumstance.
Another type of issue to be addressed by our possible Latin American
philosophy is related to our own circumstance. That is, our possible phi-
losophy must try to resolve the problems posed by our circumstance. This
 Leopoldo Zea 365

point of view is as legitimate and valid a philosophical issue as the one

we have just discussed. As Latin Americans we have a series of problems
that arise only in the context of our circumstance and that therefore only
we can resolve. The posing of such problems does in no way diminish the
philosophical character of our philosophy, because philosophy attempts to
solve the problems that man encounters during his existence. Hence the
problems encountered by the Latin American man are the problems of the
circumstance in which he lives.
Among such issues is that of our history. History is part of man’s cir-
cumstance: it gives him a configuration and a profile, thus making him
capable of some endeavors and incapable of others. Hence we must take
our history into account, because it is there that we can find the source of
our abilities and inabilities. We cannot continue to ignore our past and our
experiences, because without knowing them we cannot claim to be mature.
Maturity, age, is experience. He who ignores his history lacks experience,
and he who lacks experience cannot be a mature, responsible man.
With respect to the history of our philosophy, one might think that
nothing could be found in it other than bad copies of European philosoph-
ical systems. In effect, that is what one will find if one is looking for Latin
American philosophical systems that have the same value as European
ones. But this is a shortsighted attempt: we must approach the history of
our philosophy from a different standpoint. This standpoint is provided by
our denials, our inability to do much besides bad copies of European
models. It is pertinent to ask the reason why we do not have our own phi-
losophy: perhaps the very answer will be a Latin American philosophy. This
may show us a way of thinking that is our own and that perhaps has not
needed to express itself through the formulae used by European philosophy.
It is also pertinent to ask why our philosophy is a bad copy of Euro-
pean philosophy. Because being a bad copy may very well be part of our
Latin American philosophy. To be a bad copy does not necessarily mean
to be bad, but simply different. Perhaps our feeling of inferiority has made
us consider bad anything that is our own just because it is not like, or
equal, to its model. To acknowledge that we cannot create the same Euro-
pean philosophical systems is not to acknowledge that we are inferior to
the authors of those philosophies, but simply that we are different. On the
basis of this assumption we will not view our philosophers’ production as
an aggregate of bad copies of European philosophy, but as Latin American
interpretations of that philosophy. The Latin American element will be
present in spite of our philosophers’ attempts at objectivity. It will be pres-
ent despite our thinkers’ attempt to depersonalize it.
366 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

“)
Philosophy in its universal character has been concerned with one of the
problems that has agitated men the most at all times: the problem of the
relations between man and society. This problem has been posed as polit-
ical, asking about the forms of organization of these relations, that is, the
organization of human interaction. Since the institution in charge of such
relations is the State, philosophy has asked by whom it should be estab-
lished and who should govern. The State must take care to maintain the
balance between individual and society; it must take care to avoid both
anarchy and totalitarianism. Now, in order to achieve this balance a moral
justification is necessary. Philosophy attempts to offer such a justification.
Hence, every metaphysical abstraction ultimately leads to ethics and pol-
itics. Every metaphysical idea provides the foundation for a concrete fact,
the justification for any proposed type of political organization.
There is a multitude of philosophical examples in which metaphysical
abstractions have provided the basis for a political construct. One example
is found in Plato’s philosophy, whose theory of ideas provides the basis
and the justification for The Republic. In Saint Augustine’s The City of God
we find another example: the Christian community, the Church, is sup-
ported by a metaphysical being that in this case is God. The Utopias of the
Renaissance constitute yet other examples where rationalism justifies the
forms of government that have given birth to our present democracy. One
thinker has said that the French Revolution finds its justification in
Descartes’s Discourse on Method. The Marxist revision of Hegel’s dialec-
tics has given way to such forms of government as communism. Even
totalitarianism has sought metaphysical justification in the ideas of Niet-
zsche, Sorel, and Pareto. Many other examples from the history of philos-
ophy can be cited where metaphysical abstraction provides the basis for
social and political practices.
What we have just discussed underlines how theory and practice
must go together. It is necessary that man’s material acts be justified by
ideas, because this is what makes him different from animals. But our
times are characterized by a schism between ideas and reality. European
culture is in crisis because of this schism. Man is now lacking a moral
theory to justify his acts and hence has been unable to resolve the prob-
lems of human interaction. All that he has achieved is the fall into the
extremes of anarchy and totalitarianism.
The various crises of Western culture have been produced by a lack
of ideas to justify human acts, man’s existence. When some ideas have no
longer justified this existence, it has been necessary to search for other
sets of ideas. The history of Western culture is the history of the crises that
 Leopoldo Zea 367

man has endured when the harmony that should exist between ideas and
reality has been broken. Western culture has gone from crisis to crisis,
finding salvation sometimes in ideas, sometimes in God, other times in
reason, up to the present time when it no longer has ideas, God, or reason.
Culture is now asking for new foundations of support. But this is, from
our point of view, practically impossible. However, this point of view
belongs to men who are in a situation of crisis, and this could not be oth-
erwise, since we would not be in a situation of crisis if the problem
seemed to us to have an easy solution. The fact that we are in a crisis, and
that we do not have the much-wanted solution, still does not mean that
the solution does not exist. Men who like us have been in situations of
crisis before have had a similar pessimism; however, a solution has always
been found. We do not know which values will replace those that we see
sinking, but what we do know for certain is that such values will emerge,
and it is our task as Latin Americans to contribute to this process.
From this we can infer yet another goal for a possible Latin American
philosophy. The Western culture of which we are children and heirs needs
new values on which to rest. These new values will have to be derived
from new human experiences, that is, from the experiences that result
from men being in the new circumstances of today. Because of its partic-
ular situation, Latin America can contribute to culture with the novelty of
untapped experiences. That is why it is necessary that it tell its truth to
the world. But it must be a truth without pretensions, a sincere truth.
Latin America should not pretend to be the director of Western culture;
what it must aspire to do is to produce culture purely and simply. And that
can be accomplished by attempting to resolve the problems that are posed
to the Latin American man by his own Latin American perspective.
Latin America and Europe will find themselves in a similar situation
after the crisis. Both will have to resolve the same problem: what will be the
new way of life that they will have to adopt to deal with the new circum-
stances? Both will have to continue ahead with the interrupted task of uni-
versal culture. But the difference is that Latin America will no longer be under
the shadow of Europe’s accomplishments, because there is neither a shadow
nor a place of support at this point. On the contrary, Latin America finds itself
at a vantage point in time—which may not last long—but that must be used
to initiate the task that belongs to it as an adult member of Western culture.
A Latin American philosophy must begin the task of searching for the
values that will provide the basis for a future type of culture. And this task
will be carried out with the purpose of safekeeping the human essence:
that which makes a man a man. Now, man is essentially an individual
who is at the same time engaged in interaction with others, and hence it
is necessary to maintain a balance between these two components of his
essence. This is the balance that has been upset to the point of leading
368 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

man to extremes: individualism to the point of anarchy, and social exis-

tence to the point of massification. Hence it is imperative to find values
that make social interaction possible without detriment to individuality.
This task, which is universal and not simply Latin American, will be
the supreme goal of our possible philosophy. This philosophy of ours
cannot be limited to purely Latin American problems, that is, the prob-
lems of Latin America’s circumstance. It must be concerned with the
larger circumstance called humanity, of which we are also a part. It is not
enough to attempt to reach a Latin American truth, but we must also
attempt to reach a truth that is valid for all men, even if this truth may not
in fact be accomplished. What is Latin American cannot be regarded as an
end in itself, but as a boundary of a larger goal. Hence the reason why
every attempt to make a Latin American philosophy, guided by the sole
purpose of being Latin American, is destined to fail. One must attempt to
do purely and simply philosophy, because what is Latin American will
arise by itself. Simply by being Latin American, philosophers will create a
Latin American philosophy in spite of their own efforts at depersonaliza-
tion. Any attempt to the contrary will be anything but philosophy.
When we attempt to resolve the problems of man in any spatiotem-
poral situation whatever, we will necessarily have to start with ourselves
because we are men; we will have to start with our own circumstances,
our limitations, and our being Latin Americans, just as the Greeks started
with their own circumstance called Greece. But, just like them, we cannot
limit ourselves to stay in our own circumstances. If we do that it will be
in spite of ourselves, and we will produce Latin American philosophy, just
as the Greeks produced Greek philosophy in spite of themselves.
It is only on the basis of these assumptions that we will accomplish our
mission within universal culture, and collaborate with it fully aware of our
abilities, and be aware also of our capacities as members of the cultural com-
munity called humanity, as well as of our limits as children of a circumstance
that is our own and to which we owe our personality: Latin America.

NOTES

1. Alfonso Reyes, “Notas sobre la inteligencia americana,” Sur, no. 24 (Sep-

tember 1936).
2. Zea consistently uses “America” and “Americanos” to refer to Latin
America and its inhabitants. I use “Latin America” and “Latin Americans” respec-
tively to render these terms throughout the [essay], except in the present case,
because here Zea is referring to the period of discovery, when there was no dis-
tinction between Anglo-Saxon and Latin America.—TRANS.
3. Reyes, “Notas.”
Identity: A Latin American
Philosophical Problem

it Philosophy, in the Strict Sense, and Ideology: In the history of phi-

e losophy, strictly speaking, there seems to be no room for problems
about identity, as raised by Latin American philosophy—more so when
they also fall within areas that seem not to be strictly philosophical, like
the political and the social. Apparently, philosophy raises only problems
considered universal, and because they are universal and abstract, they
are beyond what is everyday to man, his world, and his society. Philos-
ophy is concerned with problems that are general, universal, and because
they are universal, about the motley world of the concretely human. The
philosophy of values, fashionable in the recent past, is rooted in the phe-
nomenological method. As such, it exemplifies the detachment of the
ideal from the real, of what is considered strictly philosophical from what
is considered ideological, and thus alien to a genuine philosophy. Above
the ever-changing human world are the values that give it meaning, real-
ized or not, for they are situated in an abode unaffected by the ordinary.
Equally philosophical are the tools of knowledge that allow man to per-
ceive his reality and change it, yet at the same time, construe change as
alien to a philosophizing whose goal is only knowledge in the strict sense.
Within this philosophizing, problems like the ones Latin American
philosophy raises about its identity seem to be only parochial, that is,
regional, and because of that, limited to a relative point of view proper to
a concrete man, and thus, alien to what is truly universal. The demand for
a specific identity seems to be something limited in relation to what is
considered the questioning par excellence, a questioning about the whole.
This question about Being was what philosophy was asking from its

From the Philosophical Forum 20, nos. 1-2 (fall-winter 1988-89). Copyright © 1988 by the
Philosophical Forum, Inc.

369
370 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

beginnings in Greece, so we are told, about Being in general, not this or

that concrete being. It was a questioning about the whole.
But, the whole of what?—paradoxically, the whole of what the con-
crete man, the philosopher, pretended to encompass with his question; a
whole, whether one likes it or not, limited by the concrete capacity of
vision of the one who asks. Aware of this limitation, the Greeks used to
say that only God has eyes that see all, ears that hear all, and a reason
that knows all. From then on, philosophers, though never attaining it,
desired to be godlike, “the useless desire to be God,” as Jean Paul Sartre
used to say not long ago. In the past few years, philosophy has stressed
the limitations of philosophizing construed strictly. Historicism, perspec-
tivism, pragmatism, existentialism, and others, turning inward, have
reflected on the limitations of philosophical contributions, philosophy’s
circumstantiality and, concomitantly, the plurality of its expressions.
Many other interpretations, diverse in what they construe as strict, are
only expressions of the new conception of universality.
In this new conception of philosophy, great and trivial expressions of
a multifaceted philosophizing parade against a background that resembles
a gigantic mosaic in which its myriad pieces have to be fitted. In an essay,
The Dream, about Raphael’s “The Academy,” Wilhelm Dilthey showed the
oppositional philosophical world that tears apart whoever persists in
opting for this or that philosophical figure in the painting. Nowadays,
many distinguished philosophers, like Hans-Georg Gadamer and Karl-Otto
Apel, attest to a philosophical plurality and its unavoidable assumptions,
and try to reconcile philosophy in a strict sense with ideological philoso-
phizing. Apel, recalling his youth, tells us that he had to face even then
the problem of the relation between theory and praxis: Do honest thinkers
and radicals have to arrive at the conclusion, he asked, of the necessity of
changing an impotent and illusory community of philosophers for the real
community, truly united in the political compromise? But doesn’t this
imply an abandoning of theoretical discourse? At stake here is not a choice
but a reconstruction of problems that are inescapably linked among them-
selves because they have an origin in man. The philosopher does not have
to give up being a philosopher to face the many problems of a reality dif-
ferent from theory. Without ceasing to be a philosopher he can philo-
sophically, rationally, confront man’s daily problems and seek possible
solutions. Philosophy does not have to choose between a strict knowledge
of reality and one that allows actions to change that reality. For that
reason, contemporary European philosophy has seen in philosophical
labor the tool of knowledge capable of reconciling theory and practice,
formal knowledge and knowledge for action. Philosophy is considered an
attitude proper to man, and tries to solve many of the problems that ail
him, problems proper to his reality, including those of the community to
 Leopoldo Zea ark

which he belongs and the many men that originate it. This has been the
way of philosophy throughout its long history. Philosophy has not
emerged in enclaves of prosperity and freedom but in situations of social
inequality. Lack of freedom presents problems that philosophers had been
obliged to face in order to solve them. It has been so since Plato, through
Augustine, Aquinas, Descartes, Kant, Hegel, Marx, and up to the present.
2. The Question of Being: The first question that philosophy raised in
the remote days of classical Greece referred to the problem of Being. What
is Being? Being in general? This question was asked by the only concrete
entity capable of answering it—man—man as philosopher. Concrete man,
of flesh and bone, faces an ever-changing reality that drags and destroys
the limited expression of Being, that is man—man who refuses to be anni-
hilated, “nihilized,” annulled by a changing nature or manipulated by his
peers. Because of this, the philosopher undertakes a search for the princi-
ples that rule the natural order, and through these principles, the ones that
rule the social order. Whoever has knowledge of the order of the cosmos
also has knowledge of the order of the polis. Thus Plato’s words about the
necessity of philosophers being kings or kings philosophers, or Aristotle’s
saying that it was just for the wiser to rule over the less wise.
The question of Being in general, of its principles of order, is an onto-
logical question asked by the concrete entity that is the questioner, man,
in relation to himself. The concrete entity that is man, tries to take a posi-
tion, define himself within nature and in relation to his peers. This man
refuses to be the blind expression of nature or an instrument of others. He
wants to manipulate nature, not be its simple expression. But he also
resists being manipulated, as part of nature, by his peers. He is not a part
of nature that is to be manipulated. Man tries to manipulate other men,
not recognizing in them fellow men but useful or useless objects.
Such is the problem, an ancient problem for man and his philosophy,
raised as crucial by Latin American philosophy—the question of the con-
crete Being of men occupying a vast region of Earth and subjected to the
manipulations of others. They are the victims of a gigantic cover-up over
identity begun on October 12, 1492, whose importance and consequences
must be studied. A study of the Latin Americans who form part of this
region will unveil an identity that defines them as equal to the rest of
mankind. The British philosopher of history, Arnold Toynbee, spoke of
this cover-up of identity when he referred to the expansion of the so-called
Western over the rest of the world, and stumbled with other entities that
could not be regarded as fellow men but as a part of nature that had to be
used. “When we Westerners speak of ‘Natives,” wrote Toynbee, “we
implicitly take the cultural color out of our perception of them. We see
them as trees walking, or as wild animals infesting the country in which
we happen to come across them. In fact, we see them as part of the local
372 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

flora and fauna and not as men of like passions with ourselves; and seeing
them thus as something suprahuman, we feel entitled to treat them as
though they did not possess ordinary human rights.! According to this
vision, it is the “native” who, starting from his own and concrete experi-
ence, has to prove his own humanity before this judge. The Indian, the
native, as any native in any region of the earth beyond the centers of cul-
ture and civilization par excellence, is outside what is considered the only
expression of humanity. Native will be called in America anyone who is
born there, the Indian as much as the creole or the mestizo.
3. Bargaining and Assertion of Identity: The problem of the identity of
the men of this region, with a special emphasis on that America which
will be called Latin, was raised by its conquistadores and colonizers.
Christopher Columbus, who, by sailing westward, expected to arrive more
quickly in the distant lands of the Great Khan, began to wonder about
these strange and docile entities, manlike but very different from the war-
like Mongols of which Marco Polo spoke and from the ferocious inhabi-
tants of Cipango. They were good people, naked and cowardly, and also
easily deceived, and thus, easy to dominate, the opposite of the ferocious
subjects of the powerful lord of the Chinese and the Tartars with whom
he had hoped to meet. “These people,” Columbus writes, “are very gentle
and fearful, naked, as I have said, without weapons or laws. These lands
are very fertile.”* There are fertile lands and much gold, but in the hands
of people for whom it lacked the value it had for the Europeans. On his
First Voyage, Columbus already had realized that these people were very
different from the ones he was searching for and with whom he had
expected to negotiate in the name of his lords, the Catholic Kings of
Spain—people, he gathered, easy to conquer and own, who did not seem
to be the subjects of the Great Khan, and thus, awaited other lords. Hence,
Columbus’s negotiating mission was transformed into the first mission of
conquest for Spain and the Europe that was afterward to follow and chal-
lenge the new dominions. Columbus went on taking possession of lands,
riches, and men in the name of his lords. At the end of the First Voyage,
he advised his lords not to allow any strangers into those lands already
under dominion, except for Catholic ones, for, as he believed, this was, in
the end, the royal purpose of the voyage—to increase and glorify the
Christian religion. Incorporated into Christianity would be men, peoples,
and lands left out because of the devil, as the first missionaries who came
to these strange lands proposed. These were people of good understanding
and could, for that reason, become good Christians, but they had to be
subdued first. These were kinds of people inferior to their discoverers,
people over whose supposed humanity there were doubts. That was the
position, almost from the beginning of the conquest, concerning the iden-
tity of the men found in this region—the humanity or bestiality of the
 Leopoldo Zea Rye)

Indians, as shown in the polemics between Septilveda and Las Casas. This
identity the men of the “New World” was to be put on trial and judged by
the jury of its conquerors. So it was to be the dominators who ultimately
decided this supposed humanity.
To this haggling over humanity were subjected not only the Indians,
but anyone born in this land, making their own and concrete identity the
main concern of the men of the region. On this identity, on this knowl-
edge of what one is, hinged all claims against the metropolis for any treat-
ment other than that of manipulation to which they were subjected—a
preoccupation that was important to the Americas under Saxon domina-
tion, but in an America under Iberian domination, reached even greater
dimensions. This dimension was the result of the degree of mestizaje that
colonization reached in the so-called Latin America. As a consequence,
not only was one inferior by virtue of being born into the region, but even
more, because of a mixture of races of a purported inferior quality, one
was inferior culturally and racially; a depreciation, not only cultural as
represented by Spain’s dominance, but also natural as represented by the
idea of a civilization that spoke of superior and inferior races. The racial
mestizaje that did not bother the Iberian conquerors and colonizers was
to disturb greatly the creators of the new empires of America, Asia, and
Africa. Christianity blessed the unity of men and cultures regardless of
race, more a function of their ability to be Christian. But modern civiliza-
tion stressed racial purity, the having or lacking of particular habits and
customs proper to a specific type of racial and cultural humanity. This was
the concern that deeply worried the men of Latin America upon breaking
with the old dominator and preparing to participate in the world order cre-
ated by European civilization. The question of Being, of being concretely,
of the men of this region will be more dramatic. Who am I? What is my
identity?
4. The Question of Identity: The concern over the identity of men and
peoples of the region was palpable in two thinkers and men of action from
an America that was breaking with Iberian colonialism: the Venezuelan
Simon Bolivar and the Argentinian Domingo Faustino Sarmiento. The first
raised it at the outset of the struggle against Iberian colonialism; the
second asked himself about the future of an American region that had just
attained its freedom from the colonialism imposed by Iberia. Who are we?
asks the Liberator, Siméon Bolivar: “... we are not Europeans, we are not
Indians, but a species in between the aborigines and the Spaniards. Amer-
icans by birth and Europeans by right, we find ourselves in the difficult
position of challenging the natives for title of possession, and of upholding
the country that saw us born against the opposition of the invaders. Thus,
our case is all the more extraordinary and complicated.” Further on he
adds: “We must bear in mind that our own country is not Europe nor the
374 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

America of the North, it is more a composite of Africa and America, an

emanation from Europe, since even Spain stops being European because
of its African blood, its institutions, and its character. It is impossible to
identify correctly to what human family we belong. Most of the Indians
have been annihilated, Europeans have mixed with Americans and
Africans, and the result has mixed with Indians and Europeans. Born all
of the same mother, our fathers, different in origin and blood, are aliens
and all show it in their skins. This dissimilarity implies an obligation of
the greatest transcendence.” Years later, Domingo F. Sarmiento was to ask
himself, “What are we? Europeans? So many copper faces contradict us!
Indigenous? The disdainful smiles of our blond ladies perhaps answer us.
Mestizos? No one wants to be that and there are thousands that would not
want to be called American or Argentinian. Nation? A nation without a
blending of accumulated materials; without agreements or bases?”4
Paradoxically, the conflicting and opposing expression of the identity
that Latin Americans find, is to be considered the denial of any possible
and authentic identity—a conflict that Sarmiento and his generation for-
mulated in the disjunction “Civilization or Barbarism.” For them, civiliza-
tion is everything that one has to be but is not; barbarism everything one
is but does not want to be. The disjunction between what one is and what
one wants to be, the terrible and useless desire of the men of this region
to be something else, is an identity conflict that lasted throughout the
nineteenth century. Let us be Europe, let us be like France, England, or the
United States! Let us be the United States of South America! Let us be the
Yankees of South America! demanded both the Mexican Justo Sierra and
the Argentinian Juan Bautista Alberdi. Out of this conflict arose, during
the second half of the nineteenth century, the civilizing and positivist proj-
ect that became widespread in an America that had broken the Iberian
yoke. This conflict was to be resolved more or less harshly with either
brainwashing, and the adoption of philosophies that supposedly caused
the greatness of western Europe and the United States, or through the
extraordinary blood-washing of an immigration policy adopted by the
southern part of the continent, where the density of Indian population did
not reach the volume of the altiplanos. There must be a break with the
colonial past; a break with the fruit of that colonization; a repeal of the
racial crossbreeding with inferior forms and of cultures already outside the
history expressed by Iberia.
5. Assertion of Identity: At the end of the nineteenth century, an event
shook the conscience of the men who began to call themselves Latin
Americans: the 1898 war between the United States and Spain. This was
to show Iberoamericans the impossibility of being something other than
what they were—the impossibility of making of this region another United
States or another Europe. The triumph of the United States over Spain
 Leopoldo Zea 375

began the expansion of a new empire over the old empires, like the
Spanish. The United States began its move to fill the “power vacuum” that
old European empires had left—a project that extended the one begun
with the war against Mexico, in 1847, and the presence in Central
America, in 1856, of the American pirate William Walker. A new colo-
nialism threatened the identity of the region. One cannot be anything but
what one is, and the problem of identity was reformulated with greater
strength. The Uruguayan José Enrique Rodo wrote his Ariel, assuming
Latinity as an expression of the identity of the region. The United States,
says Rodo, is “carrying out among ourselves a kind of moral conquest.
Admiration for its greatness and its strength is a feeling that is making
great strides in the spirit of our leaders . . . and we can pass through a
transition from admiring to imitating them.”® And imitation leads, in turn,
to dependency, but a dependency freely accepted now. “It is, thus,” he
continues, “how the vision of a de-Latinized America, by its own free will,
without the inconvenience of a conquest, and regenerated later on in the
image and likeness of the Northern archetype, appears in the dreams of
many sincere people interested in our future.” This new subordination
must be avoided and our own and ineluctable identity must be regained.
“We have our nordomania. It is necessary to draw the boundaries that
reason and the sentiments clearly show.” With Rod, there is the voice of
the Cuban José Marti, who died fighting against Spanish colonialism, yet
warned Latin Americans of a new colonialism. A particular identity of
which Bolivar had already spoken must be assumed—an identity that
must be strengthened, possessed, and not rejected. Made out of Latinity
(which has nothing to do with the project of Napoleon III), it is the expres-
sion of the search for identity. Through this Latinity, we will regain Spain,
not the imperial Spain, but the Spain that with its blood and culture has
made this a mestizo America, and because of this, a Spain open to all of
man’s expressions. America is Latin because of mestizaje, as mestizo was
the Latinity with which Rome united the peoples who, like Spain,
emerged from her. This America made possible the identity of that partic-
ular type of human being with which Bolivar would answer his questions
about the region’s identity—a particular type of human being, open to
every expression of man, a humanity open and plural. Of this conception
of the human being, Bolivar would say, “In the march of the centuries,
only one nation will be found covering the universe.” Like Bolivar, Andrés
Bello struggled to join what should not be separated; there are also the
Colombian José Maria Torres Caicedo and the Chilean Francisco Bilbao,
who already spoke of a Latin as opposed to the Saxon America that had
wrestled from Mexico half of its territory, and sent the pirate William
Walker to dominate Central America.
With the twentieth century, the region’s intelligentsia, who had
376 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

adopted the adjective “Latin,” raised the question of their own identity. A
constellation of intellectuals, among whom shine the Mexicans José Vas-
concelos, Alfonso Reyes, and Antonio Caso; the Dominican Pedro Hen-
riquez Urefia; the Peruvian Manuel Gonzalez Prada; the Argentinian
Manual Ugarte; and the Venezuelan César Zumeta, made their own the
concern over the Latin American identity question that stemmed from
Bolivar, Bello, Bilbao, Torres Caicedo, Rod6é, and Marti. That concern,
already raised during the nineteenth century over the existence and pos-
sibility of a Latin American literature and culture, is reformulated and
given other answers. The response comes from an intelligentsia that
assumed with assuredness its own peculiar identity as the source of a hor-
izontal relation of identity and not of a vertical one of dependency. No
more are there greater or lesser men; there are concrete men, and because
they are concrete, they are different among themselves. Equals, precisely
because they are different, that is, particular, concrete; but not so different
and particular as to make some more or less men than others. And no
longer is there any doubt about the identity of the men of the region that
has adopted the adjective “Latin.” This is the region proper to a group of
men that are different from other men and regions, but without this dif-
ference lessening their concrete humanity. Affirmed of the man of region
is the unarguable identity, which was doubted from the moment they
entered into the history of its discoverers, conquerors, and colonizers.
Affirmed is the identity, over and again, fraudulently hidden by the dis-
coverers, conquerors, and colonizers, an identity that is raised as the cen-
tral concern of a Latin American philosophy. This is the same concern we
already found in the history of philosophy, a questioning about Being in
general in order to assert one’s own and concrete Being; the same meta-
physical question about God in order to save one’s own weak existence in
Him; the question about reason made by a few men, for whom God is no
longer on the horizon; the anguishing question of present-day man to
assert an identity alienated by his own creations.
6. History of Ideas, Philosophy of History, and Ontology: The concern
of Latin American thought over the identity of the region and its men crys-
tallized in the twentieth century as a strictly philosophical concern, a con-
cern that Euro-western philosophy was clarifying from a broader and
more plural conception of reality. Latin American philosophy, moved by
this concern, was to raise the problems of identity in a series of steps. The
first was expressed in what has been called the history of ideas, a history
that would allow the delimitation between the supposed imitation of other
philosophies and the ways in which these would be received by or
adapted to that reality object of its adoption. Of extraordinary importance
in this first step was the presence of some distinguished Spanish philoso-
phers who had come to Mexico, and elsewhere in Latin America, as a con-
 Leopoldo Zea 377

sequence of the Spanish Civil War, begun in 1936. One of these men was
José Gaos, who was to call himself transterrado, and who would stimu-
late this study among his many students.
What would these studies show? Hegel, in his Philosophy of History,
said that America had been up to then but “echo and shadow” of Europe
and its culture. America, especially Spanish America, had originated
nothing but bad copies of the emulated culture. In philosophy, one could
speak only of Thomism, Enlightenment, Positivism, and relativism in
Latin America. The presence of these currents was odd and barely repre-
sented “bad copies,” caricatures, false formulations of the adopted
models. The history of ideas—that is, the history of how, why, and for
what purposes these philosophies had been adapted and the ways in
which this adoption had been represented—showed something different
from what had been asserted. Even though it was not their intention,
those who adopted these philosophies transformed them according to the
reality and problems for which they had been adopted. They were bar-
barized; that is, they were made to say something that was not the inten-
tion of their creators. The Latin American, upon adopting specific philos-
ophizings and philosophies to face the problems raised by his reality, gave
to what was adopted a different meaning from the one it had for its cre-
ators. Even in imitation, there was creation and re-creation. The philoso-
phizing adopted took thus another sense which, compared to the models,
resulted in “bad copies of the originals” but were originals with respect to
the problems that they tried to solve, thus resulting in different philo-
sophical utterances than those of the adopted models. In this adoption,
adaptation, and utterances, a peculiar mode of expression would be evi-
dent in those who had used philosophies alien to their experiences.
This history of ideas would show an interpretation of history different
from that philosophy of history so masterfully expressed by Hegel. José
Gaos, on reviewing one of the studies that had been made about the his-
tory of Latin American ideas, would speak of its peculiar interpretation of
history. The secular position of the region’s dependency and its con-
sciousness raising, would originate a conception of history which, far
from seeking the assimilation or assumption of history—the Hegelian
Aufhebung—juxtaposes over and again its experiences. Spain tried to jux-
tapose its own Christian culture over the indigenous one it had stumbled
on and considered demoniacal. Liberalism and positivism, in turn, tried to
erase the imposed colonial past, superimposing on what was inherited the
fruits of another culture alien to their experiences, and from then on con-
tinued to juxtapose expressions of cultures alien to their own. This fact is
revealed by the history of ideas of the region. All of this is manifest in the
peculiar philosophy of Latin American history, different from the philos-
ophy of history of Europe and of the world called Western: juxtaposing
378 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

instead of assimilating, trying to be something else in the most useless

way. “The effort to break with the past and rebuild according to an alien
present,” Gaos said, “cannot be believed precisely because it is an effort
no less utopian than any other. Because if the rebuilding according to an
alien present seems possible, the ridding of one’s own past, instead,
isn’t.” This is what the history of ideas of the region showed, and in doing
so, it also showed the need for another philosophizing proper to the his-
tory of the region, of Latin America. “Rather than getting rid of the past,”
Gaos said, “one should try an Aufhebung with it...and rather than
rebuild according to an alien present, rebuild according to a past and pre-
sent more like ours and with an eye to a future more like ours.” Assim-
ilate our history and experience, no matter how negative they might seem,
and departing from this assimilation or assumption, project our own
unique future.
From this expression we would pass on to a third and final one of this
philosophizing, the one referring strictly to the concrete identity of the
being who asks about himself, about his own and peculiar identity. This
question about Being is an ontological stage, like that of philosophy in a
strict sense at its inception. It is about a being which, in fact, is the one
that asks and can answer, man—not man the abstract but man the con-
crete, of flesh and bone, with his own particular problems, yet not partic-
ular that they do not cease being proper to man. Through these particular
problems, and precisely because they are particular, other men can be
acknowledged as peers, an acknowledgment and respect for what is
acknowledged in a search for a horizontal relation of solidarity of peers
among peers and not the vertical one of dependency which had originated
that unique problem of philosophy in Latin America.

NOTES

1. Arnold Toynbee, A Study of History (Oxford: Oxford University Press,

1934), 1:152.
2. Columbus, Letters, First Voyage.
3. Sim6n Bolivar, “Cartas de Jamaica.”
4. Ibid.
5. J. E. Rod6, Ariel, trans. F. J. Stimson (Boston, 1922).
Augusto Salazar Bondy
(1927-1974)

Sa Bondy was born and educated in Lima, Peru. At the time of

his death he was full professor at the Universidad Nacional Mayor de
San Marcos and director of the Biblioteca Filosdfica, a publication series
of the mentioned university. Salazar Bondy was a prolific and active
philosopher who traveled extensively throughout the American continent,
giving lectures in Latin American and North American universities and
attending many congresses of philosophy. The impact of his thought was
strongly felt in Peru and in several other Latin American countries.
Among his many works we may mention: La filosofia en el Peru
(1954), Irrealidad e idealidad (1958), Tendencias contempordneas de la
filosofta moral britdnica (1962), Historia de las ideas en el Peru contem-
pordneo (1965), Breve antologia filosdfica (1967), Existe una filosofia de
nuestra América? (1968), Sentido y problema del pensamiento filosdfico
hispanoamericano (1969), and Para una filosofia del valor (1971).
Salazar Bondy began his philosophical career from a phenomenolog-
ical perspective inspired by Hartmann and Heidegger. Later he became
interested in some Marxist ideas and in the last few years of his life
adopted a more analytic approach, particularly with respect to value
theory. This lack of rigid ideology was a direct result of his view of phi-
losophy as a broad and integrating discipline.
As is clear from the titles of the works cited above, from the very
beginning of his philosophical career this author was interested in the phi-
losophy of his country and later in the philosophy of Latin America in gen-
eral. His knowledge of Latin American philosophy and his contributions
as critic and historian of it led him to an examination of the problem of
philosophical identity in Latin America. The position he adopted is crit-
ical. According to him, the type of philosophy practiced in Latin America

379
380 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

has been the product of the efforts of intellectual elites that, having no
originality of their own, imitated the different philosophical currents fash-
ionable in Europe. The result has been a nonauthentic philosop
hy,
divorced from Latin American society and its needs; Latin American
phi-
losophy is a direct product of the alienation of Latin American
society.
The Meaning and Problem of
Hispanic American
Philosophic Thought

his [essay] assumes that Hispanic American philosophical thought

began with the discovery of America and the Spanish Conquest; and
that it is now possible to trace its development, to classify its distinctive
epochs, and to define its characteristic traits. The assumption arbitrarily
casts aside the rich pre-Columbian cultural past for a variety of reasons.
First, there are no data sufficiently precise and trustworthy concerning the
thought of the indigenous peoples. Second, there was no integration, nor
even sufficient sociopolitical and cultural interaction among the pre-Con-
quest peoples. The historic community which we customarily call Hispanic
America did not exist before the sixteenth century, and it is only beginning
with this century that we can find cultural products that are definitely philo-
sophical. These considerations explain, at least methodologically, the point
of departure and the thematic focus and limitation of my presentation.
The process of Hispanic American philosophical thought begins with
the introduction of the dominant Spanish currents of the period within the
framework of the official political and ecclesiastical system of education.
The principal goal was to form the subjects of the New World according
to the ideas and values sanctioned by the Spanish State and Church.
Those doctrines harmonious with the political and spiritual domination
pursued by the temporal and religious organs of Spain were brought to
America and propagated in our countries. In this way, Hispanic Americans

From Augusto Salazar Bondy, The Meaning and Problem of Hispanic American Thought, ed.
John P. Augelli (Lawrence: Center of Latin American Studies of the University of Kansas,
1969). Reprinted by permission.

381
382 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

learned as a first philosophy or mode of thought, a system of ideas that

responded to the motivations of men of the Old World.
Except for the sporadic and, at times, heroic appearance of philoso-
phies with a greater critical edge and fewer ideological-political compro-
mises with the established power (such as renaissance platonism and
erasmist humanism), the doctrine officially disseminated and protected is
the scholastic in its late Spanish version. Although it certainly was not
lacking in some high points, such as Suarez, it was following paths very
different from those of the modern spirit. Thus, besides being official and
centered on European interests, the first Hispanic American philosophy
was conservative and antimodern in thought.
American themes did not, however, fail to make themselves felt as a
new element in the theoretical concern. There is a wealth of philosophic-
theological meditations on the humanity of the Indian, on the right to
make war on the aborigines, and on the justification to dominate America,
which constitutes the most valuable thought of the sixteenth and seven-
teenth centuries. Because of it, scholasticism momentarily achieved a live
and creative tone, precisely when it touched on the problems of existence
in this area which had been recently conquered and was in the process of
colonization. But, apart from those few outstanding Hispanic American
teachers and disseminators of philosophy in this period, much of the
philosophical theorizing, including that which dealt with specifically
American themes, was done from the Spanish perspective. There was not,
and perhaps could not have been, at least at the beginning of the Spanish
period, anything like an original American approach to a doctrine that
would respond to the motivations of men of this continent.
The predominance of scholasticism lasted until the eighteenth cen-
tury. Then, America began to feel the impact of ideas and currents that
were contrary to scholasticism and very representative of the new direc-
tion that European thought took beginning with the Renaissance. This was
due in part to factors operating in Spain itself, such as the liberalizing
policy of the ministers of Charles III and the work of writers of a reform
spirit, like Father Feijoo. It was also due to such factors as travelers and
scientific expeditions that were operating within the territories under
Spanish domination. Descartes, Leibniz, Locke, and Hugo Grotino, as well
as Galileo and Newton, were among the first authors who had a revolu-
tionary effect among us, even though the phenomenon, measured against
European chronology, is clearly late.
The number of foreign books and magazines and of commentaries
and readers of modern taste increased hurriedly as the eighteenth century
advanced, and resounding names of powerful progressive influence
appeared on the intellectual horizon of the Hispanic Americans. Some of
the principal ones are Condillac, Rousseau, Adam Smith, and Benjamin
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 383

Constant. At the same time, educational and cultural institutions were ren-
ovated in those cities that served as viceregal capitals or seats of the audi-
encia; the so-called Caroline colleges and the “Friends of the Country”
societies appeared; and cultural reviews of unquestionable value were
published. An awakening of critical awareness and a first hint of national
and American consciousness are perceptible in the period. This cultural
atmosphere is equivalent, at least on the exterior, to what is known in
Europe as the period of the Enlightenment. And the doctrinary link is
clear, for the enlightened Hispanic American ideology is nothing other
than the transplantation of the philosophy of the European, especially the
French, Enlightenment. Like France, this epoch in Hispanic America was
also a period of important political changes, which was garbed in modern
philosophical thought: the changes of the emancipating revolution which
by 1824 was to cancel out Spanish power in the majority of our countries.
The new political plateau achieved with political independence in His-
panic America was paralleled in philosophic thought. Subsequently, this
thought developed freely, without the hindrance of monarchical censor-
ship. On the other hand, it had to develop within the precariousness
imposed by the sociopolitical crisis confronted by nearly all the brand-new
republics in this part of the hemisphere during the nineteenth century. Let
us consider briefly this later development.
There is an initial, well-defined period of evolution that extends from
the revolution of independence until approximately 1870. Because it coin-
cides with Romanticism, it is customarily designated as romantic. It was
dominated successively by the so-called philosophy of ideology—that is,
the last form of French sensualism—, the doctrines of the Scottish school
of common sense, and finally, the eclectic spiritualism of French deriva-
tion and the Krausist version of German idealism. These doctrines consti-
tuted the philosophic sustenance not only of academicians, but also of
publicists and the politicians of the time. The latter generally adhered to
two principal parties, one of a liberal tendency, and the other conserva-
tive. Their bitter disputes were often concerned more with pragmatic and
political differences than with the ultimate philosophical bases of their
thought. They were not always opposed, for example, in metaphysics and
esthetics, and it is not unusual to find the same European philosophers
accepted as doctrinary mentors by both liberal and conservative writers.
Perhaps it would be more exact to say that the same philosophies were
selectively accepted by both groups and applied according to their own
orientation. Also in this period Hispanic America felt, albeit weakly, the
influence of utopic socialism and anarchism.
In the final decades of the century the tendency of the Hispanic American
intelligentsia was to turn toward another doctrine, or complex of doctrines,
formed by the positivism of Auguste Comte in France, and various other con-
384 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

temporary currents of thought, such as Naturalism, Materialism, Experimen-

talism, and Evolutionism. From all these ideological elements was gleaned the
so-called positivist creed that the intellectual sectors of practically all Hispanic
American countries, in varying intensity and amplitude, adopted and
defended for nearly four decades, until the early years of this century.
In this period, the popularity of Comte was equaled, if not exceeded,
by that of Spencer. Through his teachings, evolution was imposed as a
universal explanatory principle, applied to realms of both physical nature
and society. In the latter case, it was used equally to justify the predomi-
nance of the bourgeoisie and the claims of the proletariat. Nevertheless,
Positivism was fundamentally a philosophical doctrine adopted by the
upper classes of Hispanic America in the period of establishment and con-
solidation of international capitalism in our countries.
In the midst of the Positivist movement itself, there arose surpassing ten-
dencies which, when amplified and strengthened, were to mark a new stage
in Hispanic American thought. This phenomenon was, above all, a reflection
of the changes in European philosophic conscience, but it must also be
explained in part by the movement’s doctrinary heterogeneity, in which the
most laic and even irreligious convictions were tolerated alongside the most
frank professions of Christian faith. Some individuals characterized as repre-
sentatives of the Positivist philosophy were, indeed, the first to criticize their
earlier convictions. They were convinced not only of the necessity of recti-
fying the errors and raising the barriers of Positivist thought, but they also
felt that there already were figures and systems in the philosophic market of
the period capable of replacing the old doctrine advantageously.
Added to these impulses of self-criticism was the decisive action of a
group of dynamic university professors. At the time they were dedicating
their best efforts both to disposing Positivist philosophy and to the devel-
opment of a serious university philosophical movement. For this reason
they have been called the founders. Outstanding among them were the
Argentine Alejandro Korn, the Uruguayan Carlos Vaz Ferreira, the Chilean
Enrique Molina, the Peruvian Alejandro Deustua, and the Mexicans José
Vasconcelos and Antonio Caso. They are certainly not the only ones, but
are indeed the principal ones in the strictly academic dominion of philos-
ophy. They acted in harmony with other intellectual figures dedicated to
giving a new meaning and a profounder and more authentic basis to the
culture of our countries. Of the latter, Pedro Henriquez Urefa and Alfonso
Reyes are representative. (Let us add parenthetically that it is not by chance
that until now we have not felt obliged to mention a single Hispanic Amer-
ican philosopher while tracing the history of our thought. As we shall see,
there is reason for it. There were figures worthy of mention as teachers of
valuable work, comparable to that of the founders, although generally pos-
sessed of less critical conscience and historical maturity than the latter. The
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 385

Mexican Antonio Rubio, the Peruvian Diego de Avendajio, the Venezuelan

Agustin de Quevedo y Villegas, and the Chilean Alfonso de Bricefio are
scholastics of importance. The Mexican Benito Dias de Gamarra is a very
representative and distinguished, enlightened thinker. José de la Luz y
Caballero, in Cuba, Andrés Bello, from Venezuela, José Vitoriano Lastarria
of Chile, and the Argentine hero Juan Bautista Alberdi stand out in the first
period of the nineteenth century. Some notable names of the Positivist
movement are Gonzdlez Prada of Peru, the Mexican Justo Sierra, Eugenio
Maria de Hostos from Puerto Rico, the Cuban Enrique José Varona, and the
Argentine José Ingenieros. Let us content ourselves with this brief list,
because we do not propose to depict in detail the development of our philo-
sophical ideas, but rather to understand its character and meaning.)
The founders, whose work covers the first decades of this century, coin-
cided not only in the rejection of Positivism, but also in the type of orienta-
tion that they wished to give philosophical thought and the Western men-
tors that they sought for this undertaking. They were fundamentally anti-
naturalists, with marked idealistic or vitalistic sympathies (positions which
are not always easily distinguished one from the other). They had a prefer-
ence for dynamic concepts and intuitive thought that was not rigidly logical
and consequently, they acquiesced generally with metaphysical speculation.
Hence, their admiration for such authors as Boutroux, Croce, James, and
above all, Bergson. The last became for the intellectuals the oracle that
Spencer had once been. Bergsonism, with its concept of duration, of con-
crete and qualitative becoming, was consulted for all explanations, and was
embraced and exalted not only by conservative sectors, but also by liberals.
It was even accepted by the Marxists, who at this time were beginning to
represent a definite current of thought in Hispanic America.
With Marxism and other orientations of social thought related or
opposed to it, we reach the contemporary stage of Hispanic American phi-
losophy, which extends approximately from the third decade of this century
to the present. In the consideration of contemporary currents, it must be said
of Marxism that, although it has had important political repercussions in
recent years (such as the establishment of the socialist regime in Cuba) it is
not the most influential philosophy in the universities, nor even among wide
sectors of writers and intellectuals. It is, however, along with Catholic phi-
losophy, the one that has received the greatest effort toward popularization.
In addition to Catholic philosophy, especially the neo-Thomist,
favored by the Church in Hispanic America and generally concentrated in
the confessional universities, other currents should be mentioned, for
their impact on the university movement has been greater. These are, in
the first place, phenomenology, both in Husserl’s original form and in its
ethical, esthetic, and ontological derivations developed by such thinkers
as Max Scheler, Moritz Geiger, Alexander Pfaender, and Nicolai Hartmann.
386 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

The phenomenological current is related to the existentialism of Heidegger

(who was associated initially with Husserl), the Christian existential
thought of Jaspers, and the atheistic existentialism of Sartre.
The diffusion of these and like philosophies, such as those of Eucken,
Klages, and Keiserling, took place mainly from the end of the twenties until
the Second World War. Viewed from a complementary perspective, this
represents the influence of Germanic thought in Hispanic America, con-
temporary with the political and economic expansion of Germany that con-
cluded with the slaughter of the war. Symptomatically, in the latter part of
the forties, French philosophy began to penetrate and achieve great diffu-
sion. In the main, it was the new existentialist trend represented by Sartre,
as well as Camus, Marcel, and Merleau-Ponty. Sartrian penetration was
facilitated by the use of literature as a means of expressing ideas, which
made the themes and problems of contemporary philosophy accessible to
a wider public than the strictly academic. The literary works of Camus
have had an analogous effect. On the other hand, French existentialism is
a thought directly connected with social and political problems, through
doctrinary principles and the personal vocation of its creators. The com-
mitted intellectual (éngagé) according to this philosophy, is the paradigm
of the man of thought and letters. Hence, in spite of its technical complex-
ities as a philosophy, it is welcomed among political spirits and the socially
committed. This does not mean that French existentialism, especially that
of Sartre, has not likewise penetrated Hispanic American academic circles.
There, however, Sartre shares the favor of the professional public with Mer-
leau-Ponty, and frequently with Heidegger, who continues to be considered
the greatest theorist of the philosophy of existence.
Other themes and problems solicit the attention of those who have a
serious philosophic concern, above all in centers of higher education.
Logic, epistemology, and the investigation of language find ever-
increasing numbers of cultivators. By the nature of their theoretical
interest, they are prone to a more rigorous and objective—more technical,
if you will—focus on the content of knowledge, and receive different influ-
ences from others mentioned above. One might insert here the influence
of currents such as logical positivism, the analytic and linguistic school,
or the Zurich school, associated with the names of Bertrand Russell,
Rudolf Carnap, Gaston Bachelard, Ferdinand Gonseth, G. E. Moore, and
Ludwig Wittgenstein. This type of philosophy has become noticeably
more important in Hispanic America during recent years as a consequence
of the worldwide development of science and technology, and also the
predominance of Anglo-American culture.
In the course of the process outlined here, philosophy has achieved in
Hispanic America a level of acceptance and considerable expansion. Univer-
sity departments and professorships, societies and associations of specialists,
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 387

periodicals, books, and international connections are found today in practi-

cally all nations of Hispanic America. All of these factors, according to the
most common critics of our time, are manifestations of a normal philosoph-
ical activity, and determine in large part the character and orientation of con-
temporary philosophical development. What used to be a sporadic exercise
and an ephemeral product of very limited repercussions, is today a stable
activity that can count on the necessary social means to assure its survival
and progress, and increase its penetration in the life of the community.
But precisely to the degree that this regularization of philosophic prac-
tice (or normalization, as Francisco Romero called it) has been achieved, a
profound interest has been aroused in the evolution of our ideas, and in the
meaning and scope of our thought. Systematic studies of the history of
ideas, reviews and organized schemes of philosophy in Hispanic America,
supported by a proven scientific methodology, have sprung up, and have
been disseminated and increased in the most recent decades. Likewise, a
very serious and profound discussion has begun concerning the character
and potential of philosophy in Hispanic America. This means that, as a
result of all previous history, about which we know much more today than
in the past, we are conscious (perhaps for the first time fully conscious) of
the problems that affect our thought, or, better said, the radical problem of
the authenticity and justification for our philosophizing.

Following this direction of current Hispanic American thought, let us

inquire about the quality and scope of the intellectual products of the phi-
losophizing whose four-hundred-year evolution we have briefly reviewed.
Our balance cannot fail to be negative, as has been that of practically all
historians and interpreters of ideas in Hispanic America. In fact, it is
impossible to extract clearly from this process an articulation of ideas, a
well-structured dialectic of reflections and expositions, and of concepts
and solutions nurtured by its historical and cultural circumstance. On the
contrary, what we find in all our countries is a succession of imported doc-
trines, a procession of systems which follows European, or, in general, for-
eign unrest. It is almost a succession of intellectual fashions without roots
in our spiritual life and, for this very reason, lacking the virtue of fertility.
Just as scholastic colonial thought, as we saw, was imposed by the inter-
ests of the mother country, so also the systems that replaced it responded
to [a] historical logic that was foreign to the conscience of our peoples.
For this reason these systems were abandoned as quickly and easily as
they were embraced, having been chosen by the upper class and the intel-
lectual sectors of Hispanic Americans according to their immediate pref-
388 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

erences and momentary affinities. To review the process of Hispanic

American philosophy is to relate the passing of Western philosophy
through our countries, or to narrate European philosophy in Hispanic
America. It is not to tell the history of a natural philosophy of Hispanic
America. In our historical process there are Cartesians, Krausists, Spence-
rians, Bergsonians, and other European “isms.” But this is all; there are no
creative figures to found and nurture their own peculiar tradition, nor a
ea
.oA
—

native philosophic “isms.” We search for the original contributions of our

countries in answer to the Western challenge—or to that of other cul-
tures—and we do not find it. At least we find nothing substantial, worthy
of a positive historical appraisal. No one, I believe, can give testimony to
its existence if he is moderately strict in his judgment.
The characteristics which, according to this balance, stand out in
boldest relief in Hispanic American thought are the following:
1. Imitative sense of thought. Thinking is done according to theoret-
ical molds already shaped in the pattern of Western thought—mainly
European—, imported in the form of currents, schools, and systems totally
defined in their content and orientation. To philosophize is to adopt a pre-
existent foreign “ism,” to incorporate into one’s thought theses adopted
during the process of reading, and to repeat more or less faithfully the
works of the most resounding figures of the period.
2. Universal receptivity. An indiscriminate disposition to accept all
manner of theoretical product coming from the most diverse schools and
national traditions, with extremely varied styles and spiritual purposes.
This, of course, always providing that they will have obtained a certain
reputation, a perceptible ascendancy in some important country of
Europe. This receptivity, which betrays a lack of substance in ideas and
convictions, has often been taken for [a] Hispanic American virtue.
3. Absence of a characteristic, definitive tendency, and of an ideolog-
ical, conceptual proclivity capable of founding a tradition of thought, of
sketching a profile in an intellectual manner. Notice the “empiricist” seal
that Britannic thought has, perceptible even in the work of its speculative
idealists. There is no solid basis upon which to define a similar style in
Hispanic American philosophy. At times one speaks of a practical inclina-
tion in the Hispanic American, at others, of a speculative vein. Apart from
the fact that these two traits are contradictory, their manifestations—weak
and confusing—have disappeared rapidly and almost completely each
time that contrary influences have prevailed. The only alternative is to
count as a distinctive character precisely the absence of definition and the
nebulous state of conceptions, which is merely to confirm the thesis.
4. Correlative absence of original contributions, capable of being
incorporated into the tradition of world thought. There is no philosophic
system of Hispanic American roots, or doctrine with meaning in the
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 389

entirety of universal thought. Neither are there polemic reactions to the

affirmations of our thinkers, nor sequels and doctrinary effects of them in
other philosophies. All of this is an additional proof of the inexistence of
our own ideas and theses. The most relevant philosophical figures of His-
panic America have been commentators or professors, but, no matter how
fruitful their action in this field may have been for the educational process
of our countries, it has not had an effect beyond our own cultural circle.
5. Existence of a strong sense of intellectual frustration among cultiva-
tors of philosophy. It is symptomatic that, throughout the history of our cul-
ture, its most lucid interpreters have planted time and again the question of
the existence of their own philosophic thought. Responding to it, as we said,
almost unanimously with a complete negation, they have formulated pro-
jects for the future construction of such thought. Significantly, this unrest
and reflection are not found, or are rarely found, among those nations that
have made fundamental contributions to the development of philosophy.
They are, so to speak, well installed in the territory of philosophic theory
and move within it as in their own dominion. Hispanic Americans, on the
other hand, have always, in this regard, felt themselves to be in alien terri-
tory, as one who makes furtive and clandestine incursions, for they have
had a vivid consciousness of their lack of speculative originality.
6. There has existed permanently in Hispanic America a great distance
between those who practice philosophy and the whole of the community.
There is no way to consider our philosophies as national thought, with a
differential seal, as one speaks of a German, French, English, or Greek phi-
losophy. It is also impossible for the community to recognize itself in these
philosophies, precisely because we are dealing with transplanted thought,
the spiritual products of other men and other cultures, which a refined
minority makes an effort to understand and to share. We do not deny that
there is a universal factor in philosophy, nor do we think that philosophy
has to be popular. However, when an elaborate intellectual creation is gen-
uine, it reflects the conscience of a community finding in it profound res-
onance especially through its ethical and political derivations.
7. The same scheme of historic development and the same constella-
tion of traits—although negative-are suitable to the activity unfolded during
more than four centuries by the men dedicated to philosophy in a plurality
of countries, often far removed physically and socially from each other as
is the case of Hispanic America. Not only does it permit a general judg-
ment of Hispanic American thought—without ignoring the existence of
special cases and regional variants resulting from divergent influences
within the common framework—it also demonstrates that in order to com-
prehend the thought of our countries it is necessary to define the basic
cultural-historical reality that links them beneath their nearly always arti-
ficial confrontations and political separations.
390 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

Ul

In his Lectures on the History of Philosophy, Hegel wrote: “Philosophy is the

philosophy of its time, a link in the great chain of universal evolution; from
whence it derives that it can only satisfy the peculiar interests of its time.”
In another place, confronted with the existence of systems that pretend to
reproduce doctrines of the past, that is, to make a kind of transfer from one
mode of thinking to another, he formulated this bitter disqualification:
“These attempts are simple translations, not original creations; and the spirit
only finds satisfaction in the knowledge of its own and genuine originality.”
With this the great master of the history of philosophy underscored a very
important fact in the dominion of thought. To wit, philosophy as such
expresses the life of the community, but it can fail in this function, and,
instead of manifesting its uniqueness, it can detract from it or conceal it.
Accordingly, an unauthentic philosophy, or a mystified thought may develop.
To what extent a philosophy can be unauthentic will be made clear in
an attempt to specify the purpose and meaning of philosophic thought. As
we understand it, a philosophy is many things, but among them it cannot
fail to be the manifestation of the rational conscience of a community. It
is the conception that expresses the mode in which the community reacts
before the whole of reality and the course of existence, and its peculiar
manner of illuminating and interpreting the being in which it finds itself
installed. Because it comprises the whole of reality, it deals with that
which is essential to man, with his vital commitment. In this respect it dif-
fers from science which does not commit the whole man. On the other
hand, to the extent that philosophy is a rational conscience, an attempt to
make the world and life intelligible, it is not confused with religious faith
which operates through feeling and suggestion. Thus, philosophy deals
with the total truth of a rationally clarified existence, that appeals to the
totality of the personal human being and its full lucidity. The latter are the
two means of referring to that which is most unique in each man.
But philosophy can be unauthentic, as we have seen. How does this
happen? Man constructs his self image as an individual and as a social
entity; he is, in the words of Ortega, the novelist of himself. But he may
be that as an original writer or as a plagiarist; as someone who portrays
himself, outlining his genuine idea, or as someone who is self-deluding,
“getting ideas” about himself, and takes another’s as his own image. And
so, thinking that he knows himself, he remains ignorant. A philosophy
can be this illusory image of itself, the mystified representation of a com-
munity, through which the community “gets ideas”—real ideas—about
itself and loses itself as a truthful conscience. This happens when philos-
ophy is constructed as an imitated thought, as a superficial and episodic
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 391

transference of ideas and principles motivated by the existential projects

of other men, by attitudes toward the world that cannot be repeated or
shared. At times they may even be contrary to the values of other com-
munities. He who assumes this imitated thought thinks he sees himself
expressed in it and in fact makes an effort to live it as his own, but he
almost never finds himself in it. The illusion and unauthenticity that pre-
vail in this case are paid for with sterility, and sterility, which betrays a
vital defect, is always a risk for collective and individual life.
This anthropological illusion has, nevertheless, a truthful side. The
man of mystified conscience expresses through this conscience his own
defects and deficiencies. If a community adopts foreign ideas and values,
if it cannot give them life and empower them, but instead imitates them
in their foreign character, it is because alienating and deficient elements
prevail in its being. An illusory self-concept is only possible to the degree
that there is no self-fulfillment, at least in certain very important sectors
of historical existence. On this point it is, then, inexact—although not
false—to deny the veracity of unauthentic philosophies. It is more exact to
say that they lie about the being that assumes them, but by lying they
reveal their defective existence. They fail in not offering a proper image of
reality as it ought to be, but they succeed, unwittingly, as an expression
of the lack of a complete and original being.
Because of scientific demands of precision and objectivity, when one
speaks of culture in social science, one usually means by the term a
unique and neutral concept. Although this use has permitted the empir-
ical manipulation of social life and the generalization of explanations, it
is, nevertheless, insufficient. I believe that this science is now in a posi-
tion to consider as positive data and to elaborate theoretically the facts
concerning the unauthenticity and alienation of society and culture.
Marxism and psychoanalysis, empirically controlled, can make very valu-
able suggestions in this respect. I say this because to me it seems impos-
sible to comprehend human life without distinguishing historical defi-
ciencies and plenitudes, the accomplishments and alienations of commu-
nities and the individuals that constitute them, all of which obliges us to
diversity concepts. In this respect, I think that it behooves us to wield a
strong and unique concept of culture as the organic articulation of the
original and differentiating manifestations of a community—susceptible to
serving as a guide to contrast the historic work of peoples—. We reserve
other meanings and other concepts, such as those of mode of working,
mode of proceedings, or manner of reacting to other parallel phenomena.
These concepts, unlike that of culture, would be applicable to any social
group, even if such a group did not achieve cultural originality and matu-
rity in the strict sense of the word. It then is necessary to include in
anthropological terminology, at the social and cultural level, the concepts
392 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

of frustration, alienation, authenticity, and mystification, without which

the multiple variety of historical existence cannot be comprehended, as
we are proving in the case of Hispanic American philosophy.

IV

In Hispanic America a defect of culture may be observed. Hispanic Amer-

ican philosophic thought—and all other thought of similar explanatory
purposes—offers that stamp of negativity to which we have been referring
in speaking of philosophies as illusory self-conscience. Because of its imi-
tative nature across the centuries, until today it has been an alienated and
alienating conscience that has given a superficial image of the world and
life to man in our national communities. It has not truly responded to
motivations felt by this man, but rather has responded to the goals and
vital interests of other men. It has been a plagiarized novel and not the
truthful chronicle of our human adventure.
As we have indicated earlier, there is a consensus among the inter-
preters of Hispanic American thought and culture regarding the existence
of a problem that affects its meaning and function. The demonstration of
this problematic situation in its applicability to philosophy has suggested
various attempts at explanation that should be recalled and examined,
even if it is only by way of a very brief résumé.
1. A first reaction is to evaluate Hispanic American thought, such as
it is, positively, while disregarding its negative aspects or interpreting
them by a kind of sublimation as original forms, different from ordinary
philosophic thought, but valuable in themselves as spiritual creations.
One may exalt, for example, the universalism of our thought, which is the
optimistic reverse of the limitless receptivity that we mentioned earlier, or
the disguise that conceals a weakness of theoretical reflection. A kind of
autochthonism joins hands here with a conformist conscience in order to
see in deficiency or weakness an original mode of philosophizing. It for-
gets that our thought has proved that it cannot live without external sus-
tenance, and that it is incapable of making its personality felt, for example,
by provoking polemic reactions or determining influences that might pro-
long and enrich it, in the course of world thought.
2. Although close to the preceding, a second attitude has a rather neg-
ative cast. Those who adopt it recognize that there is no vigorous and cre-
ative philosophy in Hispanic America, and they explain this fact appealing
generally to ethnic causes. It is said, for example, that this situation is the
effect of our mentality, that our race does not have a philosophic disposition.
It is held that philosophy does not harmonize with the genius of our people,
which is better endowed for other spiritual creations. The thesis generally
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 393

presupposes the existence of a vigorous body of values and genuine cultural

products different from the philosophic, of which there is, of course, no
proof. This opinion cannot long resist the confrontation with well-known
facts that demonstrate that deficiencies and unauthenticity reach other very
important fields, and even cover the entire gambit of culture.
3. A third explanation appeals to the historical cultural youth of our
peoples. It is thought that four hundred years of evolution, without
counting the process of previous civilizations, are not sufficient to accli-
mate philosophy, and that one should reasonably expect a perceptible
change in this aspect when the Hispanic American community achieves
the maturity that it is lacking today. It is forgotten in this context that
other “younger” peoples with a less-aged intellectual tradition, as is
patently the case with the United States, have indeed managed to create a
philosophic thought of their own.
4. Another explanation approaches a position of greater historical
realism, although in my opinion it does not touch the most decisive fac-
tors. It appeals to the precariousness of institutional conditions and of the
necessary social means for the development and advance of genuine the-
oretical thought. In this case we are considering mainly the coordinated
professional and academic organization that encourages the cultivation of
philosophy as a university specialty, along with the varied professional
activities of Hispanic American thinkers. This allows for the hope of a
favorable evolution in view of the fact that in our time a normality has
been achieved in the academic status of philosophic studies. At the base
of this explanation there is a very limited and partial idea of the conditions
in which philosophy prospers. The latter is regarded as a standardized
activity and it is taken for granted that the university atmosphere is rather
the natural abode of thought. Aside from the fact that such an idea risks
confusing creative philosophers with mere professors of philosophy, it
passes over the very significant fact that many of the greatest thinkers did
not enjoy the facilities mentioned, nor were they—and more than once
they did not wish to be—university professors. Take for example
Descartes, Locke, Spinoza, Leibniz, Hume, to mention only a few famous
names who were dedicated to activities very distinct from that of teaching.
If the explanations that I have reviewed are insufficient or erroneous,
as it seems to me that they are, it is necessary to turn to another type of
explanatory causes and factors. Broader and more profound, they operate
in that sphere of fundamental realities that, in spite of disconnections and
separations, lead to a coincidence in their characters and a common evo-
lution of philosophic thought in Hispanic American nations. One must
recognize the necessity of seeking in the mode of living of our nations, as
social organisms and historical-cultural entities, the causes of the problem
that concerns us. A defective and illusory philosophic conscience causes
394 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

one to suspect the existence of a defective and unauthentic social being,

the lack of a culture in the strong and proper sense of the term as previ-
ously defined. This is the case in Hispanic America.

Commenting on a book of mine about the history of contemporary ideas

in Peru, the young French historian Jean Piel asked, in a paraphrase of
Montesquieu’s famous sentence, “How can one be Peruvian?” The ques-
tion is equally applicable to all of Hispanic America, because there is a
problem of authenticity in man in this part of the world. Certainly, on the
level of simple, natural facts, the question offers no difficulty, and perhaps
it is not worth posing. One can be anything from the moment that one is.
But when one takes into account all that a historical being as such entails,
all that it implies by way of aspirations, plans, norms, and values, besides
natural realities, then the question acquires full meaning. It is equivalent
to asking about the potential and destiny of an unauthentic existence.
Because the truth is that Hispanic Americans live behind a feigned being.
Hence it is that in our communities mystification and fiction prevail.
Many institutions have a different design from what they declare, while
the majority of ideas acquire a sense that is different from and, as often
as not, opposite from the original meaning that they officially possessed.
The most varied forms of conduct and interpersonal relationships coincide
in functioning and being motivated in a manner contrary to what sup-
posedly corresponds to them. Reflect, for example, on Hispanic American
democracy or free enterprise, justice, religion, the University, morality,
and it will be seen to what an inversion of being my considerations point.
In the last analysis, we live on the conscious level according to models of
culture that have no roots in our condition of existence. In the raw mate-
rial of this historical reality, imitative conduct yields a deformed product
which passes itself off as the original model. This model operates as a
myth that impedes our recognizing our situation and laying the bases for
a genuine building of ourselves. The same kind of mystified awareness
leads us, for example, to define ourselves as Westerners, Latins, moderns,
democrats, or Catholics. We imply in each one of these cases—through
the work of the disguising myths that enjoy free rein in our collective con-
science—something different from what in truth exists.
This use of foreign and inadequate patterns, ideas, and values that do
not jibe with reality, and reflect a partial or falsified image of our mode of
being is what, in the last analysis, Hispanic American philosophy sanc-
tions. Because of the ambivalence of our existence, it sanctions it in a
double sense: (a) as the conscious assumption of concepts and norms
 Augusto Salazar Bondy 395

without roots in our historical-existential concern; (b) as an imitation of

foreign thought, with neither originality nor force. Hispanic American phi-
losophy sanctions unauthenticity in our culture by presenting itself in its
ideas and values—whose purpose is to illuminate life—as a product that
ignores reality and alienates the spirit.
It is not strange that a community which is disintegrated and lacking
in potential should produce a mystified philosophic awareness. Philos-
ophy, which in an integral culture is the highest form of consciousness,
cannot help but be an artificial and insubstantial expression in a defective
culture. It cannot help but be a thought alien to the living body of history,
foreign and alienating in principle to the destiny of the men in whose com-
munity it is nourished.

VI

Where is the cause, the determining complex of this condition of Hispanic

America as an entity and also of each of its constituent nations? If we are
aware that this condition is not peculiar to Hispanic American countries,
but is largely similar to that of other communities and regional groups of
nations, belonging to what today is called the Third World, then it is clear
that, to explain it, we must utilize the concept of underdevelopment, with
the correlative concept of domination. In fact, underdeveloped countries
present an aggregate of basically negative characteristics which, one way
or the other, are related to dependent bonds with other centers of eco-
nomic and political power. These centers of power—which direct the
activities of the dependent countries according to their own interests—are
situated in the developed nations, in the mother countries, or in great
industrial powers. And these negative characteristics correspond to factors
which easily explain the phenomena of a culture like that of Hispanic
America. It was not by accident that our countries were first subject to
Spanish power and that they evolved from this situation as Spanish polit-
ical colonies to that of factories and supply centers or markets of the
British Empire, subject to their economic control. The United States inher-
ited this empire, with a closer and more effective network of power. As
dependents of Spain, England, or the United States, we have been and
continue to be underdeveloped—if I may use the expression—under these
powers, and, consequently, countries with a culture of domination.
I am giving here the broader traits of the conditions and global refer-
ences to the phenomenon of the underdevelopment and domination of
Hispanic America. I prefer to remain on this level so as better to call atten-
tion to the basic fact of our culture. One could object, no doubt, to the
simplicity of the explanation. I believe that it could be shaded consider-
396 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

ably without varying the substance of the thesis: but I fear that the trees
of the shading might not permit us to see the forest of the basic cause; I
fear that the refined pluralism of the explanation might distract us from
the original comprehension. Therefore, I insist that the decisive factor in
our Hispanic American case is underdevelopment, the dependency and
bonds of domination, with the peculiar qualities that allow us to define it
as [a] historical phenomenon.
The sociocultural effect of this state of things is that misshapen society
and defective culture that philosophy reveals. Let us remember that our
philosophy was originally a thought imposed by the European conqueror
in accord with the interests of the Spanish Crown and Church. It has since
been a thought of the upper class or of a refined oligarchical elite, when it
has not corresponded openly to waves of foreign economic and political
influence. In all these cases underdevelopment and domination are influ-
ential. On the other hand, the qualities that we indicated in describing our
thought not only fail to contradict this explanation through underdevelop-
ment, but instead harmonize fully with it. The dominated countries live
with a view to the outside, depending in their existence upon the decisions
of the dominant powers, that cover all fields. This trait is not alien to the
receptivity and the imitative character of the philosophy—and not only the
philosophy—that is typical of Hispanic America. Likewise, these countries
lack vigor and dynamism because of their depressed economy and
because of the lack of cohesion in their society that underdevelopment cre-
ates. Thus, there is no distinctive cast of thought that could neutralize this
receptivity and this tendency toward imitation. Nor can the entirety of spir-
itual products achieve the necessary vigor to inject themselves as original
contributions in the worldwide advance of civilization. The distance
between those who practice philosophy and the community at large is in
this case—unlike the normal relationship between the specialist and the
public—the abyss between the enlightened elite who live according to a
foreign model, and the illiterate, poverty-stricken masses, trapped in the
framework of remote and sclerotic traditions. And the frustration is rooted
in the impossibility of living according to foreign cultural patterns, while
experiencing the simultaneous incapacity to make the life of the commu-
nity fruitful in thought. As we have seen, this situation is common to His-
panic America in the same measure that underdevelopment is common,
and with it, dependence and domination.

Vil

Our thought is defective and unauthentic owing to our society and our
culture. Must it necessarily remain so? Is there no alternative to this
 Augusto Salazar BondyChapter Title 397

prospect? That is to say, is there no way of giving it originality and authen-

ticity? Indeed there is, because man, in certain circumstances rises above
his present condition, and transcends in reality toward new forms of life,
toward unheard-of manifestations. These will endure or will bear fruit to
the degree that the initiated movement can expand and provoke a general
dialectic and totalization of development. In the sociopolitical field this is
what constitutes revolutions. This means that that part of man which rises
above his circumstances cannot do so fruitfully and in a lasting manner
unless the movement is capable of articulating itself with the rest of reality
and provoking in it an overall change. If this is valid for society and cul-
ture in general, it is also true of philosophy, for the latter, being the focus
of man’s total awareness, could, better than other spiritual creations, be
that part of humanity that rises above itself, and overcomes the negativity
of the present as it moves toward new and superior forms of reality. But,
to achieve this, it must possess certain valences capable of turning theory
into live reality. It must operate in such a way that, through an effective
and prudent utilization of historical resources, it will produce the most
fruitful dialectical reactions in the proper areas of social life. Hegel said
that the owl of Minerva took flight at dusk, thus giving philosophy the
character of a theory that elucidates the meaning of facts already accom-
plished. It is not always so. Contrary to what Hegel thought, we feel that
philosophy can be, and on more than one historic occasion has had to be,
the messenger of the dawn, the beginning of historic change through a
radical awareness of existence projected toward the future.
Philosophy in Hispanic America has a possibility of being authentic in
the midst of the unauthenticity that surrounds and consumes it, and to
convert itself into the lucid awareness of this condition and into the
thought capable of unleashing the process to overcome it. It must be a
meditation about our anthropological status and from our own negative
status, with a view to its cancellation. Consequently, Hispanic American
philosophy has before it—as a possibility of its own recuperation—a
destructive task that, in the long run, will be destructive to its current
form. It must be an awareness that cancels prejudice, myths, idols; an
awareness that will awaken us to our subjection as peoples and our
depression as men. In consequence, it must be an awareness that liberates
us from the obstacles that impede our anthropological expansion, which
is also the anthropological expansion of the world. It must be, in addition,
a critical and analytical awareness of the potentialities and demands of
our affirmation as humanity. All of which requires a thought that from the
beginning will cast aside every deceptive illusion and, delving into the his-
torical substance of our community, will search for the qualities and
values that could express it positively. These qualities and values must be
precisely those capable of finding resonance in the entirety of Hispanic
398 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

America, and, along with other convergent forces, unleashing a progres-

sive movement that will eliminate underdevelopment and domination.
I believe it necessary to call attention to the fact that I am not postu-
lating the necessity of practical, applied, or sociological philosophy, as has
been proposed more than once as a model of Hispanic American thought.
It has been suggested, even by outstanding figures of our culture, that in
the distribution of philosophical tasks, theory should belong to Europe
and application to Hispanic America. I am convinced also, however, that
the strict theoretical character, which is the highest contemplative require-
ment indispensable to all fruitful philosophy, is merely another way of
condemning ourselves to dependency and subjection. In philosophy, as in
science, only he who has the key to theory can appropriate the advances
and powers of civilization. Our philosophy should be, then, both theory
and application, conceived and executed in our own fashion, according to
our own standards and qualities. Just as science, which in spite of its
declared objectivity, tolerates, particularly in the social disciplines, an
ingredient of interpretation and ideology, so too should philosophy be
elaborated by us as theory according to our own standards and applied in
accord with our own ends.
Consequently, those who heed the call of reflexive thought in Hispanic
America cannot dispense with the acquisition of the techniques developed
by philosophy in its long history, nor can they cast aside all those concepts
capable of serving as support for a rigorous theory. At the cost of laborious
efforts they must appropriate all these products, all the more difficult to
acquire without the support of a solid national cultural base. But all the
while they must keep in mind their provisional and instrumental character,
and not take them as models and contents to be imitated and repeated as
if they were absolute. Rather, they must be taken as tools to be utilized as
long as there are no others more effective and more adequate to the dis-
covery and expression of our anthropological essence.
This is the task that we have ahead of us. In some cases it would be
impossible to fulfill its goals completely, but we must aim toward them
with the awareness that the difficulty increases daily through the
dynamics of world history. In the great field of international competition,
the differences between the underdeveloped and developed countries, the
proletarian and industrialized countries, are ever more pronounced. The
subjection of the former to the latter is, therefore, increasingly stronger
and more permanent. Likewise, the alienation of being becomes more
serious in the dominated nations, among which the Hispanic American
countries must be counted. But there is still the possibility of liberation.
While this is so, we are obligated to choose a line of action that will mate-
rialize this possibility. Philosophy also has this option.
Arturo Andrés Roig
fio. 1922)

Re was born in Mendoza, Argentina. Having graduated from the

Universidad Nacional de Cuyo (1949), he did postgraduate work in
the history of ancient philosophy, under the direction of Pierre-Maxime
Schuhl, at the Sorbonne (France) between 1953 and 1954. Before his polit-
ically motivated discharge from the post he held at the Universidad
Nacional de Cuyo in 1974, he had taught there for thirty years. In 1984 he
was allowed to return to his former position, from which he has recently
retired. In addition he has had visiting appointments in France, Mexico,
and Ecuador.
He has published numerous articles in professional journals in Latin
America, Europe, and the United States, as well as many books. Among
the representative book titles are: La filosofia de las luces en la ciudad
agricola (1968), Los krausistas argentinos (1969), Platon o la filosofia
como libertad y expectativa (1972), El espiritualismo argentino entre 1850
y 1900 (1972), Esquemas para una historia de la filosofta ecuatoriana
(1977 and 1982), Filosofia, universidad y fildsofos en América Latina
(1981), Andrés Bello y los origenes de la semidtica en América Latina
(1982), El humanismo ecuatoriano de la segunda mitad del siglo XVIII
(1984), Bolivarismo y filosofia latinoamericana (1984), Rostro y filosofia
de América Latina (1993), El pensamiento latinoamericano y su aventura
(1994). Recently, Roig has published books on pedagogy and the univer-
sity in Latin America. He has also edited important collections, such as
Proceso civilizatorio y ejercicio utdpico en nuestra América (1995).
As the titles of his books and articles indicate, Roig has specialized in
the study of classical Greek as well as Latin American thought. In addi-
tion he has attempted to develop a philosophical position that could be
characterized as a “historical empiricism.” This view is rooted in an

399
400_Part IV: The Search e
e for Identity-B. The Thought
eS and sO
Philosophy ee

ontology based on the description of the human being. This philosophy,

which is also described as a “philosophy of liberation,” aims to supersede
the various dichotomies which have traditionally prevailed in Western
philosophy, such as subject and object, body and soul, barbaric and civi-
lized. For Roig, it is most important to return philosophy to a study of the
relation of humans and society, with a clear understanding that humans
have a unique capacity to create new spaces within society and to lift the
restraints that keep certain groups oppressed.
Essays on Philosophy
in History

THE ACTUAL FUNCTION OF PHILOSOPHY IN

LATIN AMERICA

[A PHILOSOPHY OF LIBERATION]

QO: present time is characterized by an attitude of commitment that

is strongly felt by great nuclei of intellectuals throughout our con-
tinent. We could say that that commitment has a twofold aspect: on the
one hand it is a commitment to knowledge itself in a strict sense, and on
the other it is clearly a commitment to knowledge qua social function.
The second aspect is possibly the one that more strongly characterizes
our human attitude. Its existence presupposes a form of positioning with
respect to the very concrete reality of our peoples. If we had to identify
the most obvious feature of that taking of a position we would say that it
is connoted by the conviction that social structures, considered in them-
selves, are unjust insofar as they are based on the dominating-dominated
relationship—a fact that becomes more acute because of our dependént
cultural state. From this origin, the task that arises from this commitment
has been characterized throughout the continent as a social and national
liberation, and insofar as the liberating action required a cojoined realiza-
tion of all the social groups who suffered dependency, it has been postu-
lated with the character of integration as well.
Within this framework philosophy keeps alive some of the principles
that guide contemporary European idealism, but most assuredly with a
From Arturo Andrés Roig, “Funcion de la filosofia en América Latina,” in La filosofta actual
en América Latina (Mexico City: Grijalbo, 1976), pp. 135-54.

401
402 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

new sense of direction. We demand that philosophical thought move

“toward things-in-themselves” and we also demand that the knowledge of
those things be a “knowledge without presuppositions”; but between this
idealism of the essences and us has intervened the existential crisis that
has the virtue of rendering bankrupt every form of Platonism, in the pejo-
rative sense of that term, and has opened us toward the search for an
ontology in whose field the foundation of our thinking is today disputed.
At bottom, we live the bankruptcy of every philosophy of conscience on
whose foundation Western rationalism has been founded during the nine-

denunciation, among which are principally Marxism and Freudianism,

have provided the bases of assumptions, elements without which that
commitment to knowledge qua social function would again run the risk of
remaining behind the masked attitudes that would, finally, reduce the task
of the philosopher to what it generally was among our “founders.”
It is obvious, moreover, that the social function of knowledge and, par-
allel to it, the philosopher’s mission, have for us anew meaning. The social,
national, and continental liberation, as well as the integration of the Latin
American peoples, is not the exclusive work of the intelligentsia, even if the
latter may propose a change in mental attitude. Philosophy must become
conscious of its task within the framework of the system of connections of
its times, and it must be discussed whether if, within it, it will be added to
those processes that move toward what is historically new or if, in the matu-
rity of times, it will play a mere role of justification. This issue necessarily
takes us to the reformulation of ontological knowledge within which the
theme of the historicity of the [Latin] American man is fundamental, as it
also takes us to a reformulation of our history of philosophy.
From the postulation of the forms and modes of integration, under-
stood as condition of liberation, depends likewise the wholeof philos-
ophy. Every philosophy begins with the assumption that it is a mode of
universal knowledge and because of that integrating, but the history of
that claim has demonstrated and still demonstrates how integration has
implied and still implies forms of rupture and marginalization. This fact,
presented succinctly, takes them to the issue of the value, as much of con-
science, as of the concept qua proper instrument of philosophical thought.
It is appropriate that we ask ourselves how the philosophy of liberation
must be organized in order not to fall into a new philosophy of depen-
dence. Without exception, all of our “founders” spoke of “freedom” and
their philosophy could be characterized for the whole continent as a
“theory of freedom.” Korn, Deustua, and Caso posit freedom as a basic
category of their thought, but this message has turned out to be
ambiguous and, if at some point present Latin American philosophy must
supersede all ambiguity, it is purely in this regard. Integration requires,
 Arturo Andrés Roig 403

then, the elaboration of a doctrine that may provide us with adequate con-
ceptual tools with which thinking man could, without treason, join the
cause that is the cause of the people.
We know the epistemological difficulties that control our present-day
philosophy in Latin America. Rationalism imposed the requirement of
arriving at a strict philosophy from the point of departure of immediate
and apodictic evidence. Our modern impulse for philosophizing is also
immediate, but assertoric; it has to do with factual, not necessary truths
that are inscribed in existence itself. Could we say that our beginning is
given by facticity? We necessarily have to say it, but only as long as we do
not understand by it a brute fact or a pure facticity, for there is no facticity
except insofar as it is inscribed in an understanding and evaluation. Per-
haps it might be necessary to say that it has to do with an enveloping fac-
ticity within which are given simultaneously the thinking subject and the
object of thought. In other words, it has to do with an existential situation
grasped with what we could call, along with Michel Foucault, a certain
historical a priori, in spite of the risks it implies, and while pointing out
that for us that concept ought to be redefined insofar as what is a priori
is not so with regard to what is historical, as something that determines
what is temporal from the outside, but that it is likewise historical. It is a
determinate and determining historical structure in which social con-
science plays, in our judgment, a preponderant causality and where a
priori-ness is posited in a nonnecessary way beginning in experience and
is, for that reason, also an a posteriori-ness in respect to its origin in the
moments of formation of an epoch or of a generation. From what has been
said, moreover, the historical a priori is not only constituted by intellec-
tual categories, but also by states of mind that give sense as much to the
discourse in which knowledge is expressed as it does to the conduct of
those who develop that knowledge in relation to the medium in which
they perform.
Neither does philosophy as we understand it fit in with the old clas-
sical category of contemplative and disinterested knowledge, or with the
notion of objectivity that accompanied it and pretends to fulfill a social
function from a critical consciousness with a new direction. At the same
time, this philosophy claims to develop its discourse rigorously, but the
requirement of rigor departs as well from the modalities with which it was
understood within the vast ranges of modern and contemporary ratio-
nalism.
The}*founders” also started off from a certain historical a priori from
which théy§gave ‘their
t own philosophical |answers to their own facticity.
The theory a objects “and the theory of values—common themes to
almost all of them—constitute an answer to a certain unconscious order
proper to a cultural state on the basis of which they developed the classi-
404 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

fications and on which experiences were judged. From that a priori that
functions in them as a condition of the possibility of the hierarchical forms
of entities and values, they were placed in a discourse from which they
understood that they fulfilled, in their own fashion, the double require-
ment of rigorous knowledge and commitment. This fact permits the con-
sideration of the “normalization” of the philosophical task in Latin
America that began precisely with them, from the ideological point of
view. The typically conservative discourse with which that was begun
caused the Brazilian philosopher Luis Washington Vita to denounce as
reactionary the philosophy of Bergsonian inspiration with which it
expressed itself. The ideology of “normalization,” inherited in our time by
ontologists, phenomenologists, logical positivists, and structuralists,
undoubtedly constituted a very special way of understanding the require-
ment of philosophical rigor.
Hence, that notion of “philosophy as such” has acquired for us a new
meaning—for Risieri Frondizi it meant to do philosophy and immunize it
against nonphilosophical activities (and politics in particular), since, as
this author tells us, European thought had lost philosophical character in
Latin America. Philosophy, Leopoldo Zea has said, does not only have to
pay attention to “how it is done,” but also to “for what it is done”; in other
words, it must be something more than rigorous science, i.e., it must cer-
tainly also be consciously adopted ideology.
“Philosophy as such” cannot avoid substance and take refuge, as hap-
pens in some cases, in the mere sign or in mere structures, developing a
formalist discourse that ignores the historical process. The strong influ-
ence of linguistic doctrines has precisely cut through the philosophical
task and fractured it down to its very core. The requirement of rigor proper
to “normalization” has dangerously led the way within the field of struc-
turalist epistemology to an attempt at the analysis of the pure form of
philosophical discourse, emptying it of its contents while earlier having
eliminated the referential function of language, which is what ties it to the
historically concrete. Having emptied the discourse of its substantial con-
tent, and therefore the human project it embraces, it has degenerated into
a totalization of concepts through which the will to power is easily devel-
oped. In this way the rigor of academic philosophy has not only been con-
tent in some cases with the reduction of philosophical subject matter to
essences, based on the teachings of Husserl, but by advancing further
toward that requirement it has ended up altogether avoiding conscious-
ness as a subject.
We have stated that “philosophy as such” cannot avoid substance, but
neither can it lapse into another form of evasion of thought, the same one
into which ontologism lapses. The assertion that being as well as the ten-
dency to inquiry about being is lived or livable within the immediate expe-
 Arturo Andrés Roig 405

rience of consciousness, is the essential characteristic of ontologism in our

opinion. Consciousness ends up being understood as the place where
what is real is revealed, whether as a result of eidetic intuition or as the
fruit of the existential frame of mind that found an opening to being, and
parallel to it, the task of man is to give himself to an alienating inquiry
urged by the need to give an explanation to “entity,” breaks asunder every
dignity and ends up by nullifying man as the builder of his own world. As
Agoglia has appropriately stated with regard to existentialism, its pro-
posed substitution of the question of entity for the question of being is an
evasion of philosophy at the ontological level, for what gives philosoph-
ical authenticity to the question concerning being is not an assumed or
implied relation of being to man, but rather an inquiry about being in
terms of man. Ontologism asserts, moreover, on the basis of the founda-
tion of the claimed revelatory power of immediate consciousness, a per-
manent distinction between doxa and episteme from which it would be
possible only to arrive at rigorous knowledge. [This is the dilemma into]
which one falls with the condemnation of thought qua thought of the
world, understanding [by] this the infinite web of entities and entitative
relationships within which we move and have our being, such as is
assumed in the realism of the common man and expressed in everyday
speech. The need to erect the foundations of an ontology that does not fall
into ontologism, therefore, implies the acknowledgement that conscious-
ness is object before it is subject; that it is a social entity before it is an
individual reality; that there is no transparent consciousness, which, for
this reason, not every episteme need be developed on the basis of a criti-
cism alone, but necessarily also on the basis of a self-criticism; that intu-
ition does not take the place of the concept and that this concept is a rep-
resentation; that the preeminence of being and of man as such is the
inescapable point of departure and the terminus of every question about
being; and, finally, that an ontology is also necessarily an anthropology.
Formalism and ontologism in all their diverse forms overlook two
aspects that have significant importance if we give heed to the attitude of
commitment that we referred to at the outset: the historicity of man and
the relationship of man to technology. At bottom one sees in many
instances the position evident within the aestheticism of our “founders,”
which was a predominant characteristic of nearly all of them, that in addi-
tion it included an ontologism and on its foundations an axiology in which
what is economic, confused with what is crudely utilitarian, was pre-
sented as a pseudo-value. The case of Alejandro Detstua is typical in that
sense. The line that proceeds from Bergsonian influence to Heideggeri-
anism, as philosophy of consciousness and as intuition, has been a prime

denounced so vehemently by Augusto Salazar Bondy.

406 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

This fact is even more serious in our own time given the ignorance of
the American man’s historicity hidden beneath a profusion of investigation
of that same historicity. The concrete case [of this profuse investigation] is
found in the philosophy of “existential disposition” and in particular in one
of its formulations developed by the Venezuelan philosopher Mayz Valle-
nilla, for whom the “disposition” that characterizes the Latin American
man would be “expectation,” which, as such, is subjected “to the most
absolute contingency in relation to the content of what comes near and is
convenient.” This would be the reason why technology appears to us as
something alien and as coming from the outside. It is in this manner that
our dependency comes to be justified ontologically at the same time that
the possibility of our man making himself in the act of his labor is denied.
We have already pointed to the close relationship that exists between
the jaestheticism of our “founders’} and the\ontologism of the present, But
there is yet another fact that Cuts negatively through to the historicity of
our man: the continuation of a certain kind of ethicism expounded by Ale-
jandro Korn and Antonio Caso. Undoubtedly, this ethicism is watered
down nowadays and in some cases even apparently lost completely
beneath the development of formalist philosophy; it is not for that reason
less present. Ethicism is a consubstantial attitude with the mental struc-
ture imposed by liberalism on the whole continent, and it can only be
explained within the framework of the “order” that arises out of the his-
torical a priori within the scope we have assigned to this concept—this a
priori serves as a substratum for all of our intellectuals, and makes their
thought an expression of a determinate social class. Ethicism is a response
that tries to maintain the integrating formula imposed by an age on a
given society, resorting to a hierarchy of values that is above doubt, but is
reinforced and even ontologically founded insofar as every social problem
is reducible, on this view, to a moral program. Also, in its own way, ethi-
cism reinforces the ahistorical view of our man insofar as the moral for-
mulae of integration assert the roles of dominating and dominated groups,
preventing in this way the rise of proper historicity, of the proper self-
making that man, as such, deserves since it proposes no change of social
structures and with them no new integrating formulae.
We face, in addition, the problem concerning the discourse in which
we ought to locate ourselves, in other words, in what way ought we to act
with respect to that a priori from which every discourse tends to develop.
The single fact of denouncing its existence presupposes for Latin American
philosophy a new and innovative attitude and leads, among other things,
to the need to analyze its structure in those that preceded us. Thus arises
once more the need to reexamine the thought of our “founders” from our
present perspective and with our current methodological principles.
It is appropriate that we ask ourselves about the meaning of the fact
 Arturo Andrés Roig 407

in which they placed themselves with an almost generational sense within

the framework of Bergsonian discourse and would continue to elaborate
Rodo’s discourse again. The symbol of Ariel and philosophy of the spirit
appropriate to immediate consciousness were not incompatible. But we
could say, moreover, that Arielism continued and was reinforced under
the generalized influence of Bergsonian thought in that stage after the
1900s, and Ariel continued being the symbol of a task that those intellec-
tuals from whom we are descended imposed upon themselves. To these
influences must be added, without any doubt, the authority exerted by
Ortguian philosophy, also a thought of enlightened elites. Though Rodd’s
spiritualism developed as an answer to the question concerning what our
thought qua Hispanic American should be, and as a consequence of
Ortega y Gasset’s circumstantialism, there was an attempt to adopt the
facticity that we spoke of at the beginning. With these tools our
“founders” undoubtedly gave an answer to the pressing problem of cul-
tural dependency, and they forcefully pointed out—and particularly in the
case of Rodéd—the presence of imperialism as one of the negative factors
that integrated the facticity from which they, and we, begin. This was pos-
sible to the degree that the discourse of the “founders”—especially some
of them such as José Vasconcelos—continued being, in spite of its ambi-
guity, a response to the problems of liberation and integration and for that
very reason had not become emptied of content.
But this message requires that it be taken from a new beginning of our
philosophy and the symbols in which it felt itself to be incarnated required
a decodification, and to the degree that the symbol has an inner force that
goes beyond a mere intellectual posturing of what is symbolized, our age
needs, as Abelardo Villegas has indicated while commenting on Roberto
Fernandez Retamar, a new symbolism for Latin American culture. Let us
not forget that “the old and reserved teacher, who was usually called Pros-
pero, in reference to the wise teacher of Shakespeare’s The Tempest,”
according to the initial words of Ariel, ends up in Roberto Arlt’s short
story by hanging himself in an outhouse. This hard and cruel image rep-
resents the end of the presuppositions from which those very elites devel-
oped their philosophical discourse.
The categories with which spiritualism tried to fulfill an integrating
function undoubtedly find themselves in a crisis. Caliban, who is not an
abject being, is our most direct symbol in the same way that we stopped
believing in the “Civilization” that the liberal bourgeoisie in the nine-
teenth century placed in opposition to the “barbarism,” which is the name
Caliban is given in Sarmiento’s framework. And in the same way we have
lost our horror of the “masses,” the sociological pseudoconcept with
which Ortega y Gasset crippled his own circumstantialism and with which
he in turn pointed out the presence of Caliban.
 408 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy
46
» The mission of current Latin American philosophy essentially lies,
Citen in the search for new integrating concepts, whether or not they are
expressedin new symbols. And because of that we feel the need of an
ontology that may|separate us/from every formalism and may not fall, in
turn, into a new ontologism: In other words, [we require] an ontology that
insures the preeminence of the object with respect to consciousness, that
may not flow into new forms of Platonism, and that may lay bare the his-
toricity of man as a given reality in everyday experience, but beginning not
with a singular and unique experience understood under a pretense as
revealing the historicity of the privileged consciousness of the philosopher.
Philosophy is concerned with{entity and being,| but whether it is
erected as an ontology of entity or an ontology of being, in the sense that
it is beyond entity, or as an attempt at the dialectical integration of both,
the inescapable point of departure is always given in entity. Man has no
other access to being except through the way it is given to us qua entity,
and it is realized in our own ontic nature. For this reason we may say with
Miguel Angel Virasoro, that for us being does not speak with its own voice
nor does it have its own sense and that its sense is built in entities so that
being for man is primarily a pure availability that threshes itself out in the
infinite world of entities and their relations. Now, although in any way that
we may construe philosophy, there is always the risk of its being developed
as a system of the oppression of life as exercised from the objective totality
of the concept and orchestrated by the will to power, in other words, of
falling into a Platonism such as the one Nietzsche denounced in his own
times, something that appears to us unquestionable is only beginning from
a strong preeminence of entity, captured in its otherness and in its novelty,
we will be able to develop an open dialectical thought.
The fact that what is truly in an act is given for men in entity and for
entity opens up to us the sense of his own historicity and his task as cre-
ator and transformer of his world. The struggle for the unmasking of the
objective, oppressive totalities and the elaboration of the integrating cate-
gories that may not detract from his historical presence, but rather allow
him to reintegrate himself with himself, is undoubtedly the principal
undertaking of a philosophy of liberation. And every eschatological
answer to the problem of being, that ignores this real and crude insertion
of man within entity, cannot be but negative.
That facticity from which we begin is not, as we had said, a pure fac-
ticity without signification, for when man is found placed within his world
he receives a “from where” and a “to where” that prescribe his destiny
and from which he does not escape by denouncing everydayness as a
form of alienation and by trying to separate himself from it by a singular
and unique abstract experience, but rather it is within that very every-
dayness and in terms of it that he must assume his origin and his destiny.
 Arturo Andrés Roig 409

In that same sense it is undoubtedly highly valuable to point out the

affective relation to the world, conditioned by our social consciousness
and on whose foundation we are disposed with respect to entities. An
analysis of the historical a priori undoubtedly cannot avoid the existence
of those states of mind that do not constitute a mythical opening with
respect to an ontological reality, but a very concrete way that directs our
evaluating activities in our relational life and is later projected in philo-
sophical discourse.
If we had to mention the state of mind from which many of our intel-
lectuals have opened up to their world, we would venture to say that it is
one of fear. This affective attitude is the one that most obviously regulates
and conditions behavior in a society in which the figures of master and
slave, oppressor and oppressed, continue to exist. Dread runs through our
continent in the face of the “revolt of the masses,” “social revolution,”
“loss of order and hierarchies,” “social decomposition,” “changes of struc-
tures,” “doctrines foreign to national interest,” or “forgetfulness of our
most treasured traditions.” Oppressive political discourse offers, in this
sense, a Clear reading and a state of mind that conditions and has condi-
tioned the theories of even those who believed themselves saved from the
very facticity in which they began, and on which they confer an inevitably
ideological content.
The “theory of freedom” that fills the discourse of our “founders”
must, no doubt, be replaced by the “theory of liberation” that should have
as its fundamental task the elaboration of new integrating categories
beginning with a redemption of the historical sense of man. History, the
occurrence, Carlos Astrada has stated, has to derive its meaning from
existing man, whose fundamental ontological structure is already his-
toricity. Meaning is not to be extracted from history as if man were an
ahistorical subject that depends on it, as integrating categorical founda-
tion alien to him, as hypostatic reality. History is history of man’s realiza-
tion in accordance with a historical repertoire of ends. The assuming of
one’s own ends presupposes a self-making, a self-happening, as act of
freedom. As Oward Ferrari has said, “Finality means an ongoing task of
man, it implies a Geschehen, a self-begetting, a self-making, because of
which the thought of man’s will leads directly to the Geschichtlichkeit.”
Because of that, history is an ontological vocation of manthatis to be
fulfilled and is fulfilled completely when the improper modes of self-
making or self-begetting are denounced, modes that generally claim to
make of history a tautology, a repetition of the same. In this was the self-
making or the self-begetting that in history is developed theoretically over
a justifying dialectic, that closes the doors to the rushing in of the other or
that at least ignores it. But that self-begetting or self-making presupposes,
as a constitutive note of man’s being, an other-ness that, by its single pres-
410 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

ence, breaks the successive dialectic totalities with which the attempt was
made to put a brake on the historical process of man’s liberation.
The oppressed, the man who suffers pain, poverty, hunger, torture,
persecution, and death, is the one who presents himself to us as the
“other” with respect to our “self-ness” and of the integrating categories
with which we attempt to support that self-ness, and it is the one that
takes charge of the humanizing mission of imposing otherness as an
essential condition of man. Undoubtedly, Caliban is the symbol of the
latent or explicit force that begets what is new within the historical
process. It is the Indian, the black, the mestizo face-to-face with the white,
the humble man from the fields and the proletariat from the cities face-to-
face with the oligarchies and diverse power groups; the old gaucho and
the contemporary black head, in short, the man who came to be called
anonymous and whose anonymity was consummated from the claimed
integrating categories called “Civilization” or “Spirit” or “Christian
Western World” and so many other similar types.
In relation to the self-begetting and self-making, an answer to the
problem of technology must be given. Without a doubt our contemporary
world has led to a loss of man that has given form to the vast theme of
\alienation.\ But technology, leaving aside whether man can attain or lose
happiness through it, cannot be thought of as something alien to human
nature,
since it constitutes a fundamental part of self-begetting and self-
making, which is precisely where freedom is gambled. For that reason, the
problem of technology will find its adequate answer when the relation
between man and production is formulated correctly, in other words,
when labor is a function in which and through which man is able to make
his humanity by himself.
Labor and technology, then, are two issues that must be understood
on the basisof an ontology that affirms in a conclusive way the historicity
on the basis of which is developed the self-realization or the self-destruc-
tion of man. It is certainly necessary to be on guard in order not to fall
into ontologism insofar as this is a risk incurred in every type of answer.
Abelardo Villegas has shown how it is present in the economic formula-
tion of alienation, which in some cases would repeat, with modifications,
the doctrine of the “natural state” to which we would have to return in
order to be saved from the alienating situation. This supposedly natural
man that originally was to be one with the products of his activity, turns
out to be in this way an ahistorical being. Faced with this formulation one
cannot but assert, as Villegas does, that there is no original ontological
structure undone later by events that would turn out to be foreign to it,
but that man is a developing being, immersed in social and historical con-
ditions within which ab initio his possibilities of realization or frustration
have been given,
 Arturo Andrés Roig 411

The need that man reach his own humanity in his own self-making,
through nonalienated labor, undoubtedly displaces the metaphysical need
to inquire after being, and above all inhibits that inquiry to the degree that
_ through it one runs the risk of deteriorating the liberating imperative. The
problem of transcendence must be recognized from the perspective of that
imperative. In that sense, the assumption of the “death of God” within
theological thought, and particularly within our Latin American liberation
theology, is an answer to the problem of the determination of new inte-
grating categories, and has the heavy burden of finding the way to
assume, for the believing man, the historicity of the self-making and the
self-begetting, joining with this the vast liberating movement of peoples.
The great revolution of our age consists in the discovery ofthistoricity,
which is the fundamental key to every task concerned with decoding
oppressive discourse. This one, we knew, has been essentially character-
ized by having interpreted as natural the relations among men, that is to
say, as foreign to self-happening and self-making and the force with which
dialectical totalities have been imposed over this base is directly related to
fear and the will to power. In this sense the history of philosophies and
the history of ideologies can be subjected to the same type of question and
are not, in fact, two0 histories) but one: the history of thought and its mul-
tiple expressions. ‘Undoubtedly, our our times are not satisfied with a history
of philosophy concerned exclusively with academic knowledge or knowl-
edge expressed formally as philosophical discourse, but rather to the
degree that that discourse has an epistemological status in terms of which
we can declare it to be within the category of the particular discourse of
the social sciences, or simply the spontaneous political discourse declared
by the common man.
On the basis of everything that has been said there is no doubt that
the function to be fulfilled by the historian of thought in Latin America
requires him to redirect his task in a new orientation. The discovery that
between a “philosophical discourse” and a “political discourse” it is pos-
sible to determine a common epistemological structure through which
both can be understood as oppressive or liberating discourses—in other
words, that it is possible to analyze them from common ideological points
of view in close relationship to the historical a priori from which both
arise—opens the door for an extension of the field of research. Method-
ologically what we propose is simply to accept a truth that has been enun-
ciated many times, but that has not always been possible to incorporate
into the historian’s task, which is to assert the necessary relation that
there is between philosophical discourse and the system of connections of
a given age. If philosophy is the expression of a determined culture it is
because it is integrated in it and what has to be looked for is how in its
very root that relation is given. One of the unfocusings has been perhaps
412 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

to think that within that system of connections “philosophical discourse”

played a directing role from a level claimed to be purely theoretical, and
the presence of factors that place that discourse at the same level as others
has been neglected, causing the philosopher’s metalanguage, once its pre-
suppositions have been indicated to have ontologically neither more nor
less value than the language of the common man. This is then part of the
task: to reduce in that sense the metalanguages of language. For the con-
struction of a philosophy of liberation there is nothing more important
than to recognize that many times what is new, what truly shows man’s
historicity and his struggle to make his otherness explicit in its context, is
not to be found in academic philosophies, but in the “political discourse”
of marginal and exploited elements and that through it proceeds precisely
a thought that would have had to have been adopted in the formally philo-
sophical task. Thus we are far from the historiographic categories that
were imposed as a consequence of the requirement of “normalization”
and of “rigor” that have ruled to this day. Our “rigor” has as a goal to dis-
cover truly if a “philosophical discourse” is properly philosophy, above all,
if we still harbor the belief that philosophical knowledge points to truth
and in that sense to an unconcealment to the degree that we exercise the
function of hiding, consciously or unconsciously, from a bad conscience.
Certainly we do not wish with this to reduce philosophical historiography
to the investigation of ideological presuppositions, for we know that phi-
losophy, although containing what is ideological, also transcends it. There
is a reason why philosophy claims to establish itself as critical and self-
critical knowledge, located not beyond what is ideological, but rather
adopting it openly and within the categories of a liberating thought.
Because of what we have been saying, a historiography of Latin American
philosophy could not be accomplished without undertaking the study of
the development and the modes of social consciousness with all the the-
matic ramifications involved in this problem.
In order to finish, we should say a few words concerning the so-called
“ontologies of the national being” and also something about what is
utopian within the liberating discourse.
The horizon from which we intend to give an answer to the ontological
question claims to consider the problems of the historicity of man qua man.
This is to say that, properly speaking, there is neither an “ontology of the
[Latin] American man” nor an “ontology of the national being” as it has
been postulated, in some cases resulting in the bankruptcy of both ratio-
nality and universality. Precisely this requirement is among those listed by
Leopoldo Zea in his meditation concerning our philosophy of history.
In that sense we do not accept the presupposition in which “pop-
ulism” is founded, to the degree that within this doctrine the integrating
categories of “people” and of “national being” deny, in our case, other-
 Arturo Andrés Roig 413

ness, or deform it when they interpret it as an absolute cultural specificity.

The notion of “people” is used to hide a real heterogeneity, on the basis
of a claimed homogeneity, unreal, within which is disguised the class
struggle, and social liberation is postponed with the pretext that it must
be preceded by national liberation. The notion of “national being,” in
turn, is thus founded on an unreal heterogeneity. And that unreal hetero-
geneity, in its turn, hides a real homogeneity, that is to say, where(national
differences _are_emphasized_until irrationalityis_ reached) In this way
“people” and “national being” appear as typical categories of “integra-
tion” proper to contemporary oppressing discourse. An ontology that
claims to serve as basis for a philosophy of liberation should then neither
ignore the presence of the diverse modes of otherness, nor deform it
obscuring entity’s rationality, something that makes impossible its under-
standing in relation to other beings before which it is “other.” Without a
doubt, “populism” has Caliban as its symbol, but it is a Caliban newly
shackled and bound.
The problem of utopia is the problem of the regulating power of ideas.
The issue concerns the question as to which is its function within the lib-
erating discourse and whether its presence as a creative force is to be
rejected. We understand that what is utopian is a natural ingredient of this
discourse, just as the antiutopian attitude is proper to oppressive dis-
course, above all if we do not understand by utopian the return to the
past, but to be open to the future as the place for what is new. This last
is and will always be an answer given as a result of the preeminence of
entity, without whose acknowledgment a philosophy of liberation is not
possible. Our own discourse in which we have decided to situate our-
selves cannot ignore the risks and benefits of what is utopian. A praxis
that does not belong to the philosopher, but upon which philosophy must
be developed, is giving the superseding formulae of the dialectical road
that moves between the will to reality and reality itself.
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Enrique Dussel
(b. 1934)

Be in La Paz, a small village in Argentina, in 1934, Enrique D.

Dussel became part of the Catholic Action Movement at a young
age. The son of a doctor, Dussel also became active in student politics at
the Universidad Nacional de Cuyo in Mendoza, Argentina. In 1957 Dussel
completed a licentiate thesis on the treatment of the common good from
the pre-Socratics to Aristotle.
Dussel pursued his study of philosophy in Spain, where he wrote a
doctoral dissertation on the common good in authors Charles de Konick
and Jacques Maritain. In Spain, Dussel was influenced by the Madrid
School of philosophy, that is, by thinkers such as Xavier Zubiri and José
Ortega y Gasset. After successfully defending his dissertation, Dussel
moved to Israel to live on a kibbutz from 1959 to 1961. There, Dussel
explored Jewish and Christian religious traditions and learned Hebrew. He
also began work on his first books, Semitic Humanism (1961), Hellenic
Humanism (1963), and Dualism in Anthropology of Christendom (1968).
Upon his return to Europe in 1964, Dussel wrote Hypotheses of the Church
in Latin America, a work which marked his role as a leader in the field of
liberation theology and his ensuing dedication to Latin American problems.
In 1967 Dussel returned to Argentina and became a member of the
faculty of the Universidad Nacional de Cuyo as a professor of philosoph-
ical anthropology and ethics. He became familiar with the debates in Latin
America concerning dependency theories, and also kept up with the most
contemporary work by Continental European philosophers such as
Emmanuel Levinas and Karl Otto Apel. In Argentina, Dussel, together
with Arturo Andrés Roig, Osvaldo Ardiles, Horacio Cerutti-Guldberg, and
others, developed the principles for a philosophy (rather than a theology)
of liberation. This was intended as a tool of social change and was intrin-

415
416 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

sically tied to the political and social reality. The political climate of
Argentina in the 1960s and 1970s did not prove to be hospitable for these
views. Even after the death of Juan Perén in 1974, right-wing politics
determined the political climate of Argentina, and the military worked
with the government to rid universities of voices of dissent. Dussel was
one of many intellectuals forced to leave Argentina in 1975. He sought
exile in Mexico, where he remains to this day.
In Mexico, Dussel became a professor at the Universidad Nacional
Auténoma de México. He published Philosophy of Liberation in 1975. This
work is arguably the most detailed and systematic treatment of the basic
tenets of his theories. Dussel’s other works in English include: Ethics and
Theology of Liberation (1964), History of the Church in Latin America
(1972), History and the Theology of Liberation (1975), and Ethics of Lib-
eration (1998). He is the author of many books and articles in Spanish
which concentrate on the past and present role of the Catholic Church in
Latin America as well as on dependency and liberation. Dussel’s contri-
butions continue to be important to current thinking in liberation the-
ology, both in Latin America and abroad.
Philosophy of Liberation

HISTORY

he following .. . chapter serves simply as an example of how one

essential phase of a philosophy of liberation can be developed. A
philosophy of liberation must always begin by presenting the historico-
ideological genesis of what it attempts to think through, giving priority to
its spatial, worldly setting.

1.1 Geopolitics and Philosophy

1.1.1 Status Questionis

1.1.1.1 From Heraclitus to Karl von Clausewitz and Henry

Kissinger, “war is the origin of everything,” if by “everything” one under-
stands the order or system that world dominators control by their power
and armies. We are at war—a cold war for those who wage it, a hot war
for those who suffer it, a peaceful coexistence for those who manufacture
arms, a bloody existence for those obliged to buy and use them.
Space as a battlefield, as a geography studied to destroy an enemy, as
a territory with fixed frontiers, is very different from the abstract idealiza-
tion of empty space of Newton’s physics or the existential space of phe-
nomenology. Abstract spaces are naive, nonconflictual unrealities. The
space of a world within the ontological horizon is the space of a world
center, of the organic, self-conscious state that brooks no contradictions—
From Philosophy of Liberation, trans. Aquilina Martinez and Christine Morkovsky (Mary-
knoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1985), pp. 1-15. Reprint of English translation by permission of
Orbis Books.

417
418 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

because it is an imperialist state. I am not speaking of the space of the

claustrophobic or the agoraphobic. I am speaking of political space, which
includes all existentially real spaces within the parameters of an economic
system in which power is exercised in tandem with military control.
Unnoticed, philosophy was born in this political space. In more creative
periods, it was born in peripheral spaces. But little by little it gravitated
toward the center in its classic periods, in the great ontologies, until it degen-
erated into the “bad conscience” of moral—or rather, moralistic—times.
1.1.1.2 I am trying, then, to take space, geopolitical space, seri-
ously. To be born at the North Pole or in Chiapas is not the same thing as
to be born in New York City.

capitalisms |t socialisms
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.
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Latin
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: NONALIGNED '
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1.1.2 Oppression of the Colonial and Neocolonial Periphery

1.1.2.1 The claim that philosophy of liberation is postmodern is

grounded in the following thesis: modern European philosophy, even
before the ego cogito but certainly from then on, situated all men and all
cultures—and with them their women and children—within its own
boundaries as manipulable tools, instruments. Ontology understood them
as interpretable beings, as known ideas, as mediations or internal possi-
bilities within the horizon of the comprehension of Being.
 Enrique Dussel 419

Spatially central, the ego cogito constituted the periphery and asked
itself, along with Fernandez de Oviedo, “Are the Amerindians human
beings?” that is, Are they Europeans, and therefore rational animals? The
theoretical response was of little importance. We are still suffering from
the practical response. The Amerindians were suited to forced labor; if not
irrational, then at least they were brutish, wild, underdeveloped, uncul-
tured—because they did not have the culture of the center.
1.1.2.2. That ontology did not come from nowhere. It arose from a
previous experience of domination over other persons, of cultural oppres-
sion over other worlds. Before the ego cogito there is an ego conquiro; “I
conquer” is the practical foundation of “I think.” The center has imposed
itself on the periphery for more than five centuries. But for how much
longer? Will the geopolitical preponderance of the center come to an end?
Can we glimpse a process of liberation growing from the peoples of the
periphery?

1.1.3 Geopolitical Space and the History of Philosophy

1.1.3.1 Philosophy, when it is really philosophy and not sophistry

or ideology, does not ponder philosophy. It does not ponder philosophical
texts, except as a pedagogical propaedeutic to provide itself with interpre-
tive categories. Philosophy ponders the nonphilosophical; the reality. But
because it involves reflection on its own reality, it sets out from what
already is, from its own world, its own system, its own space. The phi-
losophy that has emerged from a periphery has always done so in
response to a need to situate itself with regard to a center—in total exte-
riority.
1.1.3.2 | Pre-Socratic thought appeared not in Greece but in Turkey
and southern Italy, from a political periphery (they were dominated), from
an economic periphery (they were colonies), and from a geopolitical
periphery (they were threatened by the armies of the center). Medieval
thought emerged from the frontiers of the empire; the Greek fathers were
peripheral, as were the Latin fathers. Even in the Carolingian renaissance,
renewal came from the peripheral Ireland. From peripheral France arose a
Descartes, and Kant burst in from distant Konigsberg.
Distant thinkers, those who had a perspective of the center from the
periphery, those who had to define themselves in the presence of an
already established image of the human person and in the presence of
uncivilized fellow humans, the newcomers, the ones who hope because
they are always outside, these are the ones who have a clear mind for pon-
dering reality. They have nothing to hide. How could they hide domina-
tion if they undergo it? How would their philosophy be an ideological
ontology if their praxis is one of liberation from the center they are
420 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

opposing? Philosophical intelligence is never so truthful, clean, and pre-

cise as when it starts from oppression and does not have to defend any
privileges, because it has none.

1.1.4 The Center, Classic Ontology, and the System

1.1.4.1. Critical thought that arises from the periphery—including

the social periphery, the oppressed classes, the /umpen—always ends by
directing itself toward the center. It is its death as critical philosophy; it is
its birth as an ontology and ideology. Thought that takes refuge in the
center ends by thinking it to be the only reality. Outside its frontiers is
nonbeing, nothing, barbarity, non-sense. Being* is the very foundation of
the system, the totality of the sense of a culture, the macho world of the
man of the center.
1.1.4.2 For Aristotle, the great philosopher of the classical period,
reared to accept slavery and pursue self-centeredness, the Greek was
human. The European barbarians were not human, because they were
unskilled; nor were Asians human, because they lacked strength and char-
acter; slaves were not human either; women were halfway human and
children were only potentially human. The human being par excellence is
the free man of the polis of Hellas. For Thomas Aquinas the feudal lord
exercised his jus dominativum over the servant of his fiefdom, and the
man did the same over the woman (Eve, even though she had sinned,
could not transmit original sin, because the mother only supplies the
matter, but the man gives Being to the child). For Hegel the state that
bears the Spirit is the “dominator of the world,” before which all other
states are “devoid of rights (rechtlos).” For this reason Europe appointed
itself “the missionary of civilization” to the world.
1.1.4.3 Ontology, the thinking that expresses Being—the Being of
the reigning and central system—is the ideology of ideologies, the foun-
dation of the ideologies of the empires, of the center. Classic philosophy
of all ages is the theoretical consummation of the practical oppression of
peripheries.
1.1.4.4 Thus philosophy of domination, at the center of the ideo-
logical hegemony of the dominant classes, plays an essential role in Euro-
pean history. Nonetheless, one could trace throughout all that history a
critical thinking that is in some way a philosophy of liberation insofar as
it articulates the ideological formation of dominated classes.

*] differentiate between Being (Latin, esse; German, Sein) and being(s) (Latin, ers,
entia; German, das Seiende).
 Enrique Dussel 421

1.1.5 Greek Philosophy

1.1.5.1 Parmenides, from the periphery of Magna Graecia, pro-

claimed the radical beginning of philosophy as ontology: “Being is; non-
Being is not.” What is Being if not the foundation of the world, the
horizon that encompasses the totality within which we live, the frontier
that our armies control? Being coincides with the world; it is like the light
(phos) that illumines an area but is not itself seen. Being is not seen; what
it illuminates is seen—things (onta), tools, instruments (pragmata).
Being is that which is Greek, the light of Greek culture. Being extends
as far as the frontiers of Hellenism. Over the horizon is non-Being, unciv-
ilization, Europe and Asia. This sense of ontology is found in the political
thought of Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, and the Stoics.
1.1.5.2 From the poor colonist who like Heraclitus experienced Being
as the logos that walls the city (defending it from barbarians), to the
Alexandrine or Roman cosmopolitan who confused the city with the
cosmos, the Greco-Roman city was divinized and identified with nature
itself. Thus did ontology end up affirming that Being, the divine, the polit-
ical, and the eternal are “one and the same thing.” Power, domination,
and the center are identical, above the colonies with other cultures, above
slaves of other skin colors. The center is; the periphery is not. Where
Being reigns, there reign and control the armies of Caesar, the emperor.
Being is; beings are what are seen and controlled.
1.1.5.3 Classic Greco-Roman philosophies, with some exceptions, in
fact articulated the interests of the dominant proslavery classes and justi-
fied their domination from the horizon of Being itself. It is easy to under-
stand Aristotle’s “The slave is a slave by nature” or the inclination of
Stoics and Epicureans to extend deliverance to all the citizens of the
empire, so as to ensure a “good conscience” in all its members, on the one
hand, and to sanctify the empire, finite manifestation of the gods of cos-
mopolitanism, on the other.

1.1.6 Mediterranean Thought between Ancient and Modern Times

1.1.6.1 The peripheral humans of this transition were the poor

Bedouin of the Arabian desert, not the Indo-Europeans who, crossing the
Eurasian steppes with their horses, one day invaded Greece, Rome, and
India. The Bedouin and shepherds of the desert did not experience Being
as light but as proximity, face-to-face encounter with a brother or sister of
the same ethnos or a stranger to whom hospitality was offered. One day
the Bedouin comprised the kingdoms of Akkad, Assyria, and Babylonia;
they will depart in exile to Egypt. They will be liberated with Moses. They
will be the origin of the vision of the world that Maimonides will be able
422 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

to define centuries later as “the philosophy of creation,” a theoretical

metaphysics that justifies the practico-political revolution of slaves and the
oppressed (3.4.4).
1.1.6.2 From the periphery, the Being that strikes the ear of the atten-
tive listener as freedom will also triumph in its classic epochs: in Con-
stantinople after the fourth century, in Rome after the sixth century, in
Baghdad after the ninth century, in Cordoba after the tenth century, in
Paris after the thirteenth century. The Semitic world (Christian, Muslim,
and Jewish) will also have its ontology, its expressed fundamental ide-
ology. After having begun by stating “Blessed are the poor,” and after
having understood that Abel never built his city as Augustine prescribed
in the City of God, they ended by again identifying Being with the ruling
system, the earthly city (of the medievals or of the caliphs) with the city
of God. Creation—which permitted the understanding of things, profits,
systems, and kingdoms as contingent and possible (not necessary) and
therefore changeable (3.4.5.2)—came to justify the medieval Mediter-
ranean system: God wanted things this way. The ideologizing of the sub-
versive and political metaphysics of creation was the beginning of its end,
of its fossilization, of the modern centro-European revolution.
1.1.6.3 In the same way methodical Semitic-Christian thought, first
articulated by the nomadic and austere tribes of the desert, ended by jus-
tifying the dominating class, the world of medieval feudalism. Critics of
the mode of feudal production and the structure of prescribed tribute were
not lacking, but they frequently ended up in the hands of the Holy Office,
the Inquisition.

1.1.7 Modern European Philosophy

1.1.7.1. The modern age began when the Mediterranean millen-

nium crumbled. For Cretans and Phoenicians as well as Arabs and Vene-
tians, the Mediterranean was the central sea (medi-terra), the center of
world history. Nevertheless, Germano-Latin Europe enclosed by the
Turko-Arabic world (which extended, after the fall of Constantinople, from
Andalusia in southern Spain to the gates of Vienna) could not expand into
the wider world. The medieval Crusades were the first European expan-
sionist attempts, but the Arabs were sufficiently powerful to return the
frontiers to their former positions. Beginning with the fourteenth century,
the Portuguese and then the Spanish began to control the North Atlantic
(which from the end of the fifteenth century until today will be the center
of history). Spain and Portugal opened Europe to the west; Russia will do
it to the east. In the sixteenth century Spain discovered the Pacific to the
west and Russia did the same to the east. Now the Arab world is enclosed
and loses the centrality it had exercised for almost a thousand years. Later
 Enrique Dussel 423

Spain and Portugal will give way to the British empire. Now Europe is the
center. From the experience of this centrality gained by the sword and by
power, Europe begins to consider itself the archetypal foundational “I.”
1.1.7.2. From the “I conquer” applied to the Aztec and Inca world
and all America, from the “I enslave” applied to Africans sold for the gold
and silver acquired at the cost of the death of Amerindians working in the
depths of the earth, from the “I vanquish” of the wars of India and China
to the shameful “opium war’—from this “I” appears the Cartesian ego
cogito. This ego will be the unique substance, divine in Spinoza. In Hegel
the ich denke of Kant will recover perfect divinity in the absolutes Wissen,
absolute knowledge, which is the very act of totality as such: God on
earth. If faith, the perfect cult of absolute religion in Hegel’s Philosophy of
Religion, is the certitude that the representation of the understanding is
the absolute Idea, such certitude is that which world dominators have:
they are the manifestation on earth of the divinity. The empires of the
center—England and France as colonial powers, Nazi Germany, and later
the United States with its Central Intelligence Agency (CIA)—thus once
more possess an ontology that justifies them, a subtle ideology that gives
them a “good conscience.”
What is Nietzsche if not an apology for the human conqueror and
warrior? What are phenomenology and existentialism if not the descrip-
tion of an “I” or a Dasein from which opens a world, always one’s own?
What are all the critical schools, or even those that launch themselves in
search of a utopia, but the affirmation of the center as the future possi-
bility of “the same”? What is structuralism but the affirmation of totality—
though not leading to a politico-economic resolution in real liberation?
1.1.7.3. “God is dead”—that is to say, Europe is dead because it dei-
fied itself. At least the fetish has died for us and with it the United States
as its quantitative extension. The death of the fetish is important, for just
as “all criticism begins with the critique of (fetishist) religion,” so libera-
tion is possible only when one has the courage to be atheistic vis-a-vis an
empire of the center, thus incurring the risk of suffering from its power, its
economic boycotts, its armies, and its agents who are experts at corrup-
tion, violence, and assassination.
1.1.7.4 Homo homini lupus is the real—that is, political—definition
of the ego cogito and of modern and contemporary European philosophy.
It is the ontological expression of the ideology of the bourgeois class, tri-
umphant in the British revolution, which will dominate the capitalist
world. Philosophy again becomes the center of the ideological hegemony
of the dominating class.
424 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

1.2 Philosophy of Liberation of the Periphery

1.2.1 Critique of the Conquest

1.2.1.1 Philosophy of liberation is recent. Nevertheless, its

antecedents are older than modern European philosophy. Bartolomé de
Las Casas (1484-1566) wrote that “they have used two ways to extirpate
these pitiable nations from the face of the earth,” referring to the two ways
Europeans used to dominate the periphery. “One is by unjust, cruel,
bloody, and tyrannical wars”—that is, the Europeans assassinated the
inhabitants of the periphery. “The other way is that after they have assas-
sinated all those, such as adult males, who can yearn for freedom—usu-
ally they do not leave any survivors of war except children and women—
they then oppress survivors with the most violent, horrible, and hateful
slavery.” They assassinated the Amerindians; if they left any alive, they
debased them, oppressing them with servitude. They spared women, to
live in concubinage (sexual domination) and children, to be educated in
European culture (pedagogical domination). And thus in the name of the
“new god” (gold, silver, money, pounds sterling, or the dollar) there have
been immolated to the god of nascent mercantilism, the god of economic
imperialism, and the contemporary imperialism of the multinational cor-
porations, millions more human beings of the periphery than those the
Aztecs immolated to their god Huitzilopochtli—to the horror of civilized,
religious-minded Europeans!
1.2.1.2 |The philosophy that knows how to ponder this reality, the
de facto world reality, not from the perspective of the center of political,
economic, or military power but from beyond the frontiers of that world,
from the periphery—this philosophy will not be ideological. Its reality is
the whole earth; for it the “wretched of the earth” (who are not nonbeing)
are also real.

1.2.2 Colonial Mercantile Philosophy

1.2.2.1. I call colonial philosophy that which was exported to Latin

America, Africa, and Asia beginning with the sixteenth century (the uni-
versities of Mexico and Lima were founded in 1552 with the same aca-
demic ranking as those of Alcala and Salamanca), and especially the spirit
of pure imitation or repetition in the periphery of the philosophy pre-
vailing in the imperialist center.
1.2.2.2 Latin American colonial philosophy was cultivated in the
Hispanic periphery. Spain, like no other metropolitan power (through the
influence of the Renaissance and the Iberian “Golden Age”), founded in
its American colonies more than thirty centers of higher studies that
 Enrique Dussel 425

granted licentiates and doctorates in philosophy (the majority with a view

to ecclesiastical studies). The most famous faculties of philosophy were
those of Mexico and Lima. Their professors published their works in Lou-
vain, Leipzig, Venice, and other prestigious publishing centers of Europe,
as in the case of the Logica mexicana by Antonio Rubio (1548-1615),
which was used as a textbook in the University of Alcala (one of its ten
editions was the 1605 edition of Cologne). The Peruvian Juan Espinoza
Medrano (1632-1688) published in Cuzco his famous Cursus philosoph-
icus in 1688. The faculties in Bogota, Guatemala City, Quito, Santiago de
Chile, Cordoba del Tucuman, and others, can also be named. Neverthe-
less, all this was, although partly creative, a reflection of the neoscholas-
ticism of Spain.
In the eighteenth century, the Baroque Jesuit educational program,
with its reducciones—settlements of Amerindians converted to Chris-
tianity (the most famous were in Paraguay)—made important advances in
philosophy, physics, mathematics, and politics. However, it never went
beyond imitation, and it was doubly ideological: repeating in the
periphery (and concealing the domination suffered there) an ideological
process initiated in Europe.
1.2.2.3. The colonial mercantile stage in the Portuguese and first Eng-
lish colonies did not envision the foundation of philosophical centers in the
periphery. Colonial elites were formed in Coimbra and London. This was
the beginning of a cultural domination that would be perfected later on.

1.2.3 Colonial Mercantile Emancipation

1.2.3.1 Two centuries ago, in 1776 to be exact, the process of eman-

cipation from colonial mercantilism began. In New England a group of
valiant colonists arose against the British homeland and began a war of
national emancipation. This process will continue in Luso-Hispanic
America from 1810 to 1898—from the emancipation of Argentina and Peru
to that of Mexico, and thence to the Caribbean. Puerto Ricc, from being a
Spanish colony, becomes an estado libre asociado (a “free associated
state,” a contradiction in terms) of the United States, which a half-century
before had annexed Texas, New Mexico, and California, lopping them off
from Mexico.
From Washington to Hidalgo, Bolivar and San Martin ignited the
thought of emancipation, which did not become an explicit philosophy.
Bentham sights it at the end of the eighteenth century, and Hegel
describes it in his Philosophy of Right in 1821: “England understood that
emancipating the colonies was more useful than keeping them depen-
dent.” The English empire had learned that it cost less to withdraw its
bureaucracy and armies from its colonies. The emancipator heroes did not
426 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

fathom the full impact of their deeds. The liberation of which the philos-
ophy of liberation speaks was still an unsuspected future horizon. From
them, nevertheless, present-day philosophers can imbibe a deep yearning
for freedom.

1.2.4 Imperialist Recolonization

1.2.4.1. As soon as the first crisis of the industrial revolution could

be overcome in England and France, principally around 1850—that is,
when sufficient accumulation of capital was in place—the imperialist
center began a second colonial age (in the second half of the nineteenth
century). Now the Arab world, black Africa, India, Southeast Asia, and
China are to undergo the impetuous onslaught of what will quickly
become monopolistic economic imperialism.
1.2.4.2 Colonial elites were now systematically trained in the impe-
rialist center. Oxford, Cambridge, and Paris were transformed into theaters
of “reeducation,” of brainwashing, until well into the twentieth century.
The colonial oligarchies were brown, black, or yellow, and they aped the
philosophy they had learned abroad. True puppets, they repeated in the
periphery what their eminent professors of the great metropolitan univer-
sities had propounded. In Cairo, Dakkar, Saigon, and Peking—as in
Buenos Aires and Lima—they taught their pupils the ego cogito in which
they themselves remained constituted as an idea or thought, entities at the
disposal of the “will to power,” impotent, dominated wills, castrated
teachers who castrated their pupils.
1.2.4.3. These colonized philosophers had forgotten their past. The
Arab world did not return to its own splendid philosophy dating back to
the ninth century. India was ashamed of its sages and so was China,
though both nations had produced treasures of thought for more than
three millennia. The past did not withstand the attack of modern imperi-
alist metropolitan thinking, at least in its most progressive, modernizing,
and developmentalist forms.
1.2.4.4 Modern European philosophers ponder the reality that con-
fronts them; they interpret the periphery from the center. But the colonial
philosophers of the periphery gaze at a vision foreign to them, one that is
not their own. From the center they see themselves as nonbeing, noth-
ingness; and they teach their pupils, who are something (although illit-
erate in the alphabets imposed on them), that really they are nothing, that
they are like nothings walking through history. When they have finished
their studies they, like their colonial teachers, disappear from the map—
geopolitically and philosophically, they do not exist. This pathetic ide-
ology given the name of philosophy is the one still taught in the majority
of philosophy schools of the periphery by the majority of its professors.
 Enrique Dussel 427

1.2.5 Neocolonial Imperialist Emancipation

1.2.5.1 With the coming of World War II a new world power

emerged. The United States took the lead in reapportioning the world at
Yalta (1945). The colonies of the British empire and what remained of
French and other European colonies were redistributed. The heroes of
neocolonial emancipation worked in an ambiguous political sphere.
Mahatma Gandhi in India, Abdel Nasser in Egypt, and Patrice Lumumba
in the Congo dream of emancipation but are not aware that their nations
will pass from the hands of England, France, or Belgium into the hands of
the United States.
As in the first stage of colonization (1.2.2), philosophy has rich mate-
rial to apply itself to. Freedom is a distant utopia, not a foreseeable
prospect. Nevertheless, a substantive, explicit philosophy of national anti-
colonial emancipation has never been elaborated. There have been only
manifestos, pamphlets, and political works (which implicitly include a
philosophy but are not philosophy in the strict sense). The thinking
reflected in them was the most polished of peripheral thinking in the
modern world. Its thinkers situated themselves in an appropriate
hermeneutical space, in the correct perspective. But it was not yet philos-
ophy, even though the work of Frantz Fanon was already a beginning.
1.2.5.2 The new imperialism is the fruit of the third industrial rev-
olution. (If the first was mechanistic and the second monopolistic, the
third is the international effort of the transnationals, which structure their
neocolonies from within.)
The transnationals do not occupy territories with armies or create
bureaucracies. They are owners, directly or indirectly, of the key enter-
prises—production of raw materials, process industries, and services—of
the periphery. Furthermore, the new imperialism exercises political con-
trol over its neocolonies and their armies. One utterly new feature is that
the empire pursues a policy of cultivating desires, needs (4.3.3). This
empowers it, through mass media advertising, to dominate peripheral
peoples and their own national oligarchies. An ideological imperialism
(4.2.7 and 5.7) is also at work here.
$239.3 Progressivist philosophy of the center, when simply
repeated in the periphery, becomes an obscurantist ideology. I am not
thinking only of phenomenology or existentialism, or of functionalism or
critical theory, of science that becomes scientism, but also of a Marxism
that does not redefine its principles from the viewpoint of dependency
(5.9.1.2-5). Ontology and nonradical criticism (such as that which thinks
science cannot be ideology, because of its presuppositions or its real but
unacknowledged goal) are thus the last ideological underpinnings of
imperialist ideology (3.3.6).
428 Part IV: The Search for Identity-B. The Thought and Philosophy

1.2.6 Philosophy of Liberation

1.2.6.1. What is at stake is neocolonial liberation from the last and

most advanced degree of imperialism, North American imperialism, the
imperialism that weighs down part of Asia and almost all of Africa and
Latin America. Only China and Vietnam in Asia, Cuba and Nicaragua in
Latin America, and Mozambique, Angola, and Ethiopia in Africa have a
certain modicum of freedom, certainly much more than other peripheral
nations. Clearly they must know how to use the geopolitical division
established in Yalta, must know how to rely on the politico-military power
that controls the sphere outside the “partitioned” world, within whose
frontiers they have achieved relative freedom. Thus China relies on the
United States to safeguard its freedom from the nearby USSR, and Cuba
relies on Russia to safeguard its freedom from the nearby United States.
Far be it from me to trivialize the content of their politico-economic
models. I want only to point out a geopolitical factor that peripheral
nations can never forget or they will be lost. The cat can make a mistake;
it is only toying with its prey. But the mouse cannot make a mistake; it
will be its death. If the mouse lives, it is because it is smarter than the cat.
1.2.6.2 Against the classic ontology of the center, from Hegel to
Marcuse—to name the most brilliant from Europe and North America—a
philosophy of liberation is rising from the periphery, from the oppressed,
from the shadow that the light of Being has not been able to illumine. Our
thought sets out from non-Being, nothingness, otherness, exteriority, the
mystery of non-sense. It is, then, a “barbarian” philosophy.
1.2.6.3 Philosophy of liberation tries to formulate a metaphysics
(2.4.9.2)—not an ontology (2.4.9.1)—demanded by revolutionary praxis
(3.1.7-8) and technologico-design poiesis (4.3) against the background of
peripheral social formations. To do this it is necessary to deprive Being of
its alleged eternal and divine foundation; to negate fetishist religion in
order to expose ontology as the ideology of ideologies; to unmask func-
tionalisms—whether structuralist, logico-scientific, or mathematical
(claiming that reason cannot criticize the whole dialectically, they affirm
it the more they analytically criticize or operationalize its parts); and to
delineate the sense of liberation praxis. Post-Hegelian critics of the Euro-
pean left have explained it to some extent. Only the praxis of oppressed
peoples of the periphery, of the woman violated by masculine ideology, of
the subjugated child, can fully reveal it to us (5.9).
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 his excellent collection is the most complete anthology of Latin American
philosophers in English available today. Updated and revised, Latin Amer-
ican Philosophy combines the richness, the diversity, and the intensity of
twenty-three great minds—the result of which is a testament to the philosophical
power that is uniquely Latin American. Though the main focus is upon the rich
contemporary period, several key texts from the colonial and independentist period
are included to provide the reader with some historical background. Dividing the
work into four major sections—Colonial Beginnings and Independence, Philosoph-
ical Anthropology, Values, and The Search for Identity—the editors complement
their selections with introductions to the themes covered in each section and brief
biographies of each author. An up-to-date bibliography provides the reader with
information on the latest work done in the field, both in English and Spanish.
This outstanding compilation is accessible enough to serve as an introduction
to the field, while at the same time it is sufficiently sophisticated to be of use
even to advanced scholars specializing in Latin American philosophy. It will serve
as an important resource for students and teachers dedicated to a more pluralistic
canon of philosophical texts.

JORGE J. E. GRACIA is the Samuel P. Capen and SUNY Distinguished Professor

of Philosophy at the State University of New York at Buffalo. He has written and
edited more than thirty books and two hundred articles on philosophy, including
Hispanic/Latino Identity: A Philosophical Perspective, Philosophy and Literature
in Latin America: A Critical Assessment of the Current Situation (with Mireya Ca-
murati); and Hispanics/Latinos in the United States: Ethnicity, Race, and Rights
(with Pablo De Greiff).

ELIZABETH MILLAN-ZAIBERT is assistant professor of philosophy at DePaul

University. She is the translator of Mexican Colonial Philosophy by Mauricio
Beuchot and the editor (with Arleen Salles) of The Role of History in Latin Amer-
ican Philosophy: Contemporary Perspectives. She has also published several arti-
cles on the history of Latin American thought and on the issue of special rights
for Hispanics/Latinos.

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