Johannes A. Niederhauser

Johannes A. Niederhauser

Philomythical musings halkyon.substack.com

  1. Aug 12

    Hegel's "Aesthetics": Spirit Begins in Ancient Egypt

    Trace the beginnings of the human Spirit in Egypt with my colleague Carla Berenice’s course The Egyptian Mind «Egypt is the Land of the Symbol» Hegel In his lectures on the «Philosophy of Art», or rather on how Spirit fulfils itself and comes to itself in and through art and how we can trace this coming-to-be in artworks, Hegel writes that Ancient «Egypt is the land of the symbol.» Egypt is where human spirit truly marks its beginning. We shall see why and how and it has everything to do with a magic power of the human spirit, which the Egyptians first developed. We know Hegel’s lecture series today rather unfortunately under the title «Aesthetics» suggesting his thought here addresses issues of contemporary aesthetic theory to do with perception or standards of tase and superficial beauty. The public title of Hegel’s lectures are a deflection from their true scope. For what Hegel is here after is how spirit unfolds, yonder of ordinary consciousness, historically and how it comes to itself precisely through Kunst, through art, through that which is artifice, not of nature but dirempted from it, self-split from nature. Before we turn to Egypt’s symbolism and what Hegel sees in it, a very brief detour through Geist, through spirit as Hegel outlines its unfolding in the Preface to his Phenomenology of Spirit, should help us understand better how spirit begins to come into its in Egypt. Vice versa Hegel’s thoughts on Egypt should help elucidate his perhaps more abstract passages in the Preface. At the risk of oversimplifying matters spirit comes into itself, and you can observe this with yourself, with your own self-consciousness and self-awareness, precisely in moments of negation, or negativity. It is when you say «no» to a situation that you begin to take yourself out of the immediately given. This need not be but may very well be a moment of freedom, of earning for yourself your own existence. Consider the following passage on death from the Preface which already leads us deep into Egypt’s unique accomplishment: «Beauty, powerless and helpless, hates understanding, because the latter exacts from it what it cannot perform. But the life of spirit is not one that shuns death, and keeps clear of destruction; it endures death and in death maintains its being. It only wins to its truth when it finds itself utterly torn asunder. It is this mighty power, not by being a positive which turns away from the negative, as when we say of anything it is nothing or it is false, and, being then done with it, pass off to something else: on the contrary, spirit, Geist, is this power only by looking the negative in the face, and dwelling with it. This dwelling beside it is the magic power that converts the negative into being.» Do we not understand Egypt symbolically the land of death? With its mortuary practices and cult surrounding the mummy, that sacred vessel that binds afterlife and this life? For Hegel, the life of spirit, the life in which spirit begins to come into itself, from simple consciousness, i.e., awareness of oneself as separate from the world, as subject as opposed to object, is the life that through dwelling with the most radical negativity, which we know in the form of death, comes to see the world not as alien but as product of itself. Subject and object are one. Society, history, culture are the products of spirit and mind, of Geist. Consciousness is a more immediate step, a part. Spirit comprises the whole. And Hegel sees precisely in Ancient Egypt and its art the significant first step on the trajectory of spirit’s totality. What, then, is it that Egypt accomplished? And how is Egypt the land of the symbol? We think of the pyramid and of course the hieroglyphs. What does Hegel see in Egypt? Hegel sees in it the culture that gave itself «the geistige, the spiritual task or the task of the mind, of the self-deciphering of spirit without however actually ever arriving at that deciphering.» Thus, spirit here awakens to itself, gives itself the task to decipher itself, but does not yet, given the monumental task this is, fully arrive at self-decoding, at making itself transparent to itself, as recognising the world as a product of itself. According to Hegel we today have the historical task, we as humans of spirit, of intellect, or mind if you prefer, to decipher that which has remained un-deciphered by spirit in Egyptian art and symbolism. But how does spirit arrive at that moment here in the first place? By negating the immediacy of everyday existence. The task for the men of intellect, or for the humans of the age of Spirit, hence is to follow the negativity of Spirit itself which already in Ancient Egypt concretised for itself the absolute in its freedom as negativity. In doing so, Spirit recognises itself and completes itself further and finds in Ancient Egypt’s art and symbolism an expression of itself. The notion of Egypt as the land of the symbol means that here art is not yet fully objective. Objectivity for Hegel means independence from the elements that make up an object. The stone used for a statue or temple is sublated. The marble used for a statue of Athena or the Veiled Christ in Sansevero disappears in the statue. It also means that inner spiritual idea and outer physical form match, which is not the case in Egypt. Its art remains symbolic as spirit tries to emerge from nature but remains to itself a riddle or enigma. Even though Spirit here begins to come into its own, it does not yet express itself with clarity, remains to some extent concealed from itself, which is why the symbolism of Egypt is an eternal riddle, and remained so even to the Ancient Egyptians themselves. By symbol Hegel means a sign that has as its meaning not what it immediately depicts but that portrays a generality related to it. A symbol however remains somewhat confused, as just outlined. There remains a distinction between visible image and intellectual content. A symbol always points at some more concrete meaning but as it remains external it strives beyond itself. As we shall see, the Sphinx is emblematic of this. The contents of the divine and the human are still conceived abstractly and thus no ideal human form can be made visible in their artworks and indeed gods are not depicted in ideal human form, as are Greek gods and Jesus Christ. Another form of beauty for Hegel is the depiction of free human life, also lacking in Ancient Egypt. Thus, Egypt is not a case of ideal beauty or indeed beauty in the first place. Egypt remains even to itself an enigma, because spirit is still confused about itself despite its achievements. Hence, there is a kind of unclarity in the language, as Hegel attests, which is in turn an expression of their unclarity about themselves. We look at them through a mirror brightly, for Hegel, through the mirror of fully self-recognised Spirit, and thus we are in the position to decipher how Spirit here begins. The Egyptians are, argues Hegel, the first true artistic people. In all senses of the word. They produce artworks and they also negate nature, sublate nature, in doing so, hence erect an artificial landscape. The Egyptian Spirit, or rather Spirit in Egypt, produces for visual intuition or perception, for Anschauung, for that which can be looked at. But not for thought. Even though Spirit here sets in, its own true inner life remains concealed for it. Instead, Spirit looks for clarification about itself in expressions of art, in the visual and sensual, but fails to do so in thought. Which, of course, the Greeks will accomplish first in philosophy, the thinking of thinking. The monuments we are familiar with, the pyramids, temples, statues, the artificial channels of the Nile, the artificial lakes even, are for Hegel ultimately a product of a creating spirit that does not becomes fully transparent to itself. Yet, through its violent erection of monuments and through its «infinite variety» this spirit attempted to advance to itself and reach itself. Despite these only apparent shortcomings, Spirit here takes a decisive step, a necessary step and no one should expect to come to itself fully in only one culture. As opposed to Indian culture here «the interior is held fast against the immediacy of existence.» More precisely: «The inner as the negative of vitality, as the dead;» To spell this out: the inner is the dead, that which negates life. Hegel continues: the negative is here understood not as evil or pernicious hence «not as [merely] the abstract negation … but in concrete gestalt itself.» The inner is Spirit awakening to itself, understanding itself as negation to life, hence as what is dead; this is more concrete for Hegel, because it is a starker difference, than assuming an abstract good versus evil in the form of two opponents for example. More concrete because it requires an affirmation of the negation, as it were. Spirit splits itself from the outer, and brings forth for itself an interiority that is dead for the outside. This is why Egyptian symbolism of death is not vain abstraction or sheer nothingness, as we encounter in the Nirvana for example. Instead, it is «content of what is alive» as continuous negation of the immediate of life, thus this depicts Spirit’s self-acquisition, even if not yet in its full concrete freedom. «Knowing oneself, however, is the principle of freedom,» Hegel argues. This self-knowing is still foreign to the Egyptian spirit, but we can witness Spirit here being on the way there. The Egyptians had not yet penetrated «to the concept of the free Spirit». Still, they dwell with the utmost negative that is death and thus bring about the separation of spirit from world. This very separation must of course ultimately also again be overcome so that we arrive at a mediated immediacy, or spirit recognising culture, society, art as its product through differentiation. The separation between this li

    Hegel's "Aesthetics": Spirit Begins in Ancient Egypt
  2. Aug 10

    Jean Baudrillard on Simulated History

    In his lectures on Aesthetics Hegel famously states that Ancient «Egypt is the land of the symbol.» In our age, the land of the symbol has been reduced to a repository of signs, of empty signifiers like the Mummy that must serve as some sort of simulated past that guarantees us that we indeed have history, serve as an anchor for some sort of imagined mythic origin and past. Hence the mummy, a sacred anchor between this world and the afterlife, intricately interwoven into the fabric of cosmic meaning, of Ma’at, can also be reduced to a pop-cultural signifier in horror movies, entirely bereft of its sacred symbolic significance. In his seminal work Simulacra & Simulation Jean Baudrillard sees in the rotting mummy of Ramses II several layers of hyperreality at work. Before I address these, let me mention for context that in 1975 French researchers at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo noticed that the mummy had begun to decay from making it available to the public in a museum. Hence in September 1976 the mummy was flown to Paris to save it from parasitic fungal infection. Only by advanced technology, beginning with the aeroplane, continuing with specific simulations, could the mummy be saved. In fact, because of its delicate condition the French scientists could not not risk experimenting on the Ramses’ actual body. To ensure the treatment would be safe, they used material simulations, microbiological models, and diagnostic mock-ups. To save the «real» king, to save the object, science had to create clones, mock-ups, and statistical models of Ramses’ skin, hair and pathogens making entirely transparent the condition of the mummy as a mere specimen. But this removes the mummy, the actual mummification of the body of the Pharaoh. «In order for ethnology to live, its object must die», Baudrillard writes. The publicly displayed mummy now is prey to worms and science alike. To stress this again as Baudrillard does, the mummy of Ramses II started decaying because it was presented in a museum. Hence, what we can witness here is something peculiar about our age: We are stockpiling the past and history because we sense that both truth and the past are disappearing for us. In our relentless effort to make accessible all past events, through science and its various methods, to make visible and transparent, hence to enwrap in our order of the sign, that which is hidden, enigmatic and mysterious, reserved only for a few mortals and for the gods, a desertification of the truth of the symbolic order sets in. «The West is seized with panic,» writes Baudrillard, and it is significant that the West seems more concerned with this than the Egyptians at the time, «at the thought of not being able to save what the symbolic order had been able to conserve for forty centuries, but out of sight and far from the light of day.» The irony is that the mummy of Ramses II begins to rot precisely only when it is torn from its secretive hidden order, an order that we cannot grasp with our scientific methods, the mummy which should not rot at all, because our way of preserving is a different kind of preserving, a clinical preserving for the sake of maintaining not the mystery of the cosmos, but our order of empty signifiers. What we see in the museum, even though the ‘real’ mummy of Ramses II, is in fact a simulation of history. By frantically trying to make visible the invisible, our age tries to hide the fact that we have lost any genuine relationship with the past. We go to the museum to reassure us that we have a past. But the mummy removed from its symbolic order loses its essence, it loses its sacredness and is transmuted into a mere biological specimen, to be preserved as such, hence transmuted into a signifier for a past that never was but that is purely an imaginary anchor for us. «When the real is no longer what it was, nostalgia assumes its full meaning», and so does a sort of longing for authenticity, as Baudrillard says. A nostalgia for an origin that never was. But in our crazed not mummification of the past, but its musealisation, we kill the very objects we want to preserve by preserving them. We are like Orpheus forever killing what we long for the most. Ramses II means nothing for us, he cannot mean anything for us, because his world is not our world. «Only the mummy is of an inestimable worth because it is what guarantees that accumulation has meaning», Baudrillard continues. The mummy must be preserved not as a sacred vessel binding together different spheres of the cosmos, but to guarantee continued access to the past as a sort of warehouse that soothes our anxiety over our lost access to history. Making available the mummy for the general public and for science secures its decay. It decays even without the scientific definition thereof. Its public display is its decay. «Only absolute secrecy assured [the mummy] this millennial power», as Baudrillard sees with incredible clarity. He continues to point out that the Egyptian had «mastery over putrefaction that signified the mastery of the complete cycle of exchanges with death», which is to say, the Ancient Egyptians upheld a symbolic order in which the intense negativity of death was pulled into being completely, mastered to such a degree that the Egyptians could maintain sacred permanence for millennia, upholding in this way the cosmos. We today however, to quote Baudrillard, «only know how to place our science in service of repairing the mummy, that is to say restoring a visible order, whereas embalming was a mythical effort that strove to immortalise a hidden dimension.» This hidden dimension remains hidden and must remain so. It is its hiddenness. It may very well be that the mummy has for us deteriorated into an object of horror because there still lingers about it that sacred forever hidden dimension that entirely withdraws from any access or availability and it is that very hiddenness of which the mummy is testimony that scares us so fundamentally because all we know is «a visible continuum». And even though all we seem to able to do is pull into visibility the result is a sort of simulated visibility. The truly hidden cannot become visible. Hence science makes visible what is not the mummy: measurements about its state, its composition, its precise age, etc. We desire this faux visibility not for the sake of the mummy, the object has already been killed; but for our own sake, to imagine an origin that never was. We dream, says Baudrillard, of an order that is not ours and of which we cannot make sense. By exhuming the symbolic order of Egypt, by trying to make it accessible to us but on our terms and as our own past we deny this symbolic order its rightful place. Museumification ensure extermination. «Because mummies don’t die from worms: they die,» writes Baudrillard, «from being transplanted from a slow order of the symbolic, master over putrefaction and death, to an order of history, science, and museums, our oder which no longer masters anything, which only knows how to condemn what preceded it to decay and death and subsequently to try to revive it with science.» Ancient Egypt was the land of the symbol, of a symbolic order that incorporated death to such a degree that this most terrifying immediate negativity became its core so that a sacred permanence could uphold itself. Our order, an order of disarray, searches for a kind of permanence, but as it does not master death, our order brings with it decay and death. By placing death at the core, the Egyptians mastered death and produced stability. Ours, as we deny death and the hidden as that which cannot be made available and transparent, bring forth decay and corruption, without sacredness. «Irreparable violence toward all secrets, the violence of a civilisation without secrets, hatred of a whole civilisation for its own foundation,» as Baudrillard concludes his musings about the mummy of Ramses II. Our hatred for mystery, for that which cannot be explained and made available and controllable, hence our fascination with Egypt is based on a thinly veiled hatred for it, for its true dimension, that dimension of the hidden, of the secret. The mummy of Ramses II, even though historically determined to be his, measured, evaluated, and accounted for, with all the apparent precision our machines grant secured by the most advanced means of technological preservation against decay, a decay which only set in because it was removed from its sacred symbolic hidden order, which, as anyone who can read will appreciate Baudrillard implies was real, or even is real, and is real as long as it is left to its own devices and outside our hyperreal operations, this very mummy even though verifiably of Ramses II has itself become a mere simulacrum, a copy without original because it has been torn from its interrelatedness with the symbolic order of which it is. It’s been torn from its relationality and so it no longer is what it has always been. Hence the mummy has lost its ontological status, its being, and has been transmuted, mutilated, into a copy of and for the scientific models that attack it and are pulled over it, a copy without however an original as the original disappeared the minute the mummy was torn from its symbolic order and the hidden dimension. What remains is a simulacrum of it which we perceive through our hyperreality, made up of scientific models, simulations, evaluations, measurements, media stories, and never shall we see the mummy for what it was, because that very dimension of hiddenness, of the truly sacred, is hidden from us and our only way to see, which is not a seeing at all, but a constant measuring and estimating. If you’re interested in Egyptian thinking and ways of being, take a look at Carla Berenice’s course The Egyptian Mind. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, v

    Jean Baudrillard on Simulated History

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