Let your yes mean yes, and your no mean no.
The rest comes from the devil.
(Mt 5:37)
"For from the greatness and beauty of created things, their Author is discerned through analogy." (Wisdom 13:5)
The Strange Correspondence Between Two Words
No one typically considers associating dialectics with the devil. In a treatise on the devil, you will never find a chapter dedicated to dialectics. Conversely, philosophers who engage with dialectics often do not even believe in the devil's existence.
Yet, the etymology of the two words—dialectics and the devil—proves highly significant and offers a pathway to uncover the connection between dialectical activity, particularly Hegelian dialectics, and the devil's deeds.
The meaning of these two words becomes enriched and illuminated when juxtaposed with a third term of similar etymology: analogy, from which the term analectics is derived. In two of these terms, the particle dià appears, indicating division; in one, the particle anà, signifying conjunction. Two involve logos, reason, or discourse; one features the verb diaballo, a composite of dià and ballo. Ballo means “to throw, strike, or hurl,” while dià functions as an intensifier. Thus, diaballo means “to sow discord between two parties, to disunite, to slander, to discredit, or to make hateful.” The noun diabolè refers to false accusation, slander, and denigration—activities characteristic of the devil, so it becomes clear why he is referred to in this way. Indeed, Scripture calls him the Accuser, while Jesus names him the Liar.
One might also mention a fourth term, widely used today: dialogue. This beautiful word suggests friendship, mutual trust, humility, loyalty, listening, exchange, conversation, discussion, debate, confrontation, and reciprocity. Yet, undisciplined dialogue can degenerate into sophistry, equivocation, fraud, disputation, controversy, or outright quarrel. Here we find a connection to the dialectics I aim to discuss.
However, dialogue as such, with its neutrality between encounter and conflict, holds less relevance for our purpose. What I wish to emphasize instead is a form of unhealthy and captious dialectics, which Aristotle, in his critique of Protagoras, labeled sophistry. This sophistry is an art that masquerades as supreme intelligence and hypercritical acumen, presenting itself as a revealer of deeply entrenched errors, a guide to ultimate wisdom, and an opener of eyes to the naive. Yet, it is, in essence, the art of making others believe what is false, of making the false appear true, of offering spurious demonstrations, of casting doubt on certainties, and of obscuring evident truths.
As is well known, Protagoras declared that "man is the measure of all things: of those that are, that they are; and of those that are not, that they are not." Plato countered this claim, asserting that it is not man but God who is the measure of all things. For man to know the truth, he must adhere to this divine measure, for it is God, not man, who is the Author of creation.
Aristotle, for his part, essentially agreed with Plato but displayed greater magnanimity. He conceded that if by "measuring" one means "calculating," as a geometer measures the dimensions of a house, then in that sense, it is permissible to say that man measures things.
Nonetheless, Aristotle recognized the dishonesty underlying Protagoras's principle. Specifically, it denied the principle of non-contradiction, a self-evident truth that, for Aristotle, cannot be rejected except through a form of obstinacy (apaideusía, or lack of discipline). St. Thomas Aquinas, in his commentary on Aristotle, sharpened the critique by describing it as protervía—a perverse stubbornness.
As St. Thomas explains in his commentary on Aristotle, dialectics is a standard procedure of reason employed either in conversation with an interlocutor or in the personal search for truth.
Thomas contrasts dialectics with philosophy and sophistry as follows:
“Dialecticians and sophists take on the semblance of the philosopher, almost as if they bear some resemblance to him. … Dialecticians and philosophers agree in that they consider all things. … Now, since all things are united in being, it is evident that the subject matter of dialectics is being and the properties of being. … However, they differ: the philosopher and the dialectician differ in power. For the philosopher’s consideration requires greater virtue than that of the dialectician. The philosopher proceeds demonstratively with common principles. Hence, he possesses scientific knowledge of those principles with certainty. In fact, certain knowledge, or science, is the result of demonstration.
The dialectician, by contrast, proceeds regarding these matters using probable arguments, which do not produce science but rather opinion. This occurs because being is twofold: the being of reason and the being of nature. Being of reason refers specifically to those intentions that reason discerns in things, such as the intentions of genus, species, and the like. These are not found in the nature of things but follow from the rational consideration of them. Such entities, like the being of reason, are properly the subject of logic.
Now, these intelligible intentions are analogous to natural beings insofar as all natural beings fall under the consideration of reason. Therefore, the subject of logic extends to all that is predicated of natural beings. For this reason, Aristotle concludes that the subject of logic is analogous to the subject of philosophy, which is being.
Thus, the philosopher, by means of his principles, proceeds to demonstrate the properties of being. The dialectician, however, considers things through the intentions of reason, which are extrinsic to the nature of things. Hence, it is said that dialectics is approximate (tentative), for to attempt is characteristic of one who proceeds from external principles.” [1]
Hegelian dialectics diverges from Aristotelian dialectics because, whereas the latter is grounded in realism, Hegelian dialectics is idealist. Aristotle did not disdain the value of appearance (doxa), recognizing that appearances could be true or false. This is why, for Aristotle, dialectics does not produce certain and objective knowledge but only opinions, which are always subject to change.
However, dialectics's ideological character attracts the admiration of the idealist. In idealism, dialectics gains a decisive importance absent in Aristotelianism because, for the idealist, dialectics is not rooted in reality but in appearance. It replaces what, in realism, is considered science, thus claiming to be science itself instead of the realist framework.
For the idealist, the idea—as appearance or as thought-being—is itself reality. This is because, for the idealist, there is no being beyond, apart from, or outside thought. Being is its self-consciousness (Descartes), the phenomenon (Kant), the thought-being (Berkeley), the thinking-being (Hegel), or the act of thinking itself (Gentile), immanent to thought (Bontadini), or a correlate of thought (Husserl). The idealist cares little whether there is a reality behind his ideas. What matters is subjective experience—what appears to his mind or consciousness, i.e., his concepts and ideas, whether his own or those of others.
The realist, in contrast, is concerned with the external reality—whether it be his self, other persons, or God—beyond the flux and fallibility of his and others’ ideas. The realist clings to ideas only when they are certain but remains detached when they are merely speculative.
Hegel's Soul
The first person who, with a few incisive words, helped me grasp the essence of Hegel was my beloved religion teacher at the classical high school, Don (Father) Giovanni Buzzoni, back in 1959. A man of great wisdom and a Thomist influenced by Maritain, he introduced me to metaphysics and planted the first seed of my Dominican vocation, which I would eventually embrace in 1971.
One day, Don Giovanni told me, “Saint Thomas and Hegel converge on the question of being. But then a chasm arises between them, for while Thomas distinguishes being from thought, Hegel equates the two.” That said it all. With those few words, he gave me the key to unlock the fascinating yet often perplexing labyrinth of Hegelian philosophy. He allowed me to discover Hegel’s soul in its deepest intentions, for my great desire, besides my longing for God, has always been—and today, more than ever, as a priest—to understand the soul of my fellow human beings. Every soul is a unique mystery. I have always embraced St. John Bosco’s motto: “Da mihi animas, caetera tolle” (“Give me souls, take away the rest”). And what greater pleasure is there than understanding the soul of philosophers?
So, after sixty years of reading Hegel and following the thread given to me by Don Buzzoni, I have concluded that Hegel’s soul can be found in a passage from The Phenomenology of Spirit. Here we see how he conceives philosophy, what his dialectic is, and in what sense he denies the principle of non-contradiction. Hegel writes:
"The activity of separating is the force and labor of the intellect, of the most marvelous and greatest power—or rather, of absolute power. The circle that rests enclosed in itself and which holds, as substance, its moments, is the immediate relation, which thus does not arouse any wonder.
But that the accidental ut sic, separated from its domain, that what is linked and real only in its connection with something else, gains a determined existence of its own and its distinct freedom, all of this is the immense power of the negative; it is the energy of thinking, of the pure 'I.'
Death, if we wish to call that unreality by its name, is the most terrifying thing; and holding fast to what is dead (mortuum) requires the greatest strength. Beauty without strength hates the intellect because the intellect imposes tasks that beauty cannot accomplish. But not that life which recoils in horror before death, shunning destruction; rather, life that endures death and maintains itself within it is the life of the spirit.
Spirit attains its truth only by finding itself in absolute desolation. It is this power, but not in the manner of a positive entity that ignores the negative, as when we casually dismiss something as nothing or false and quickly move on to something else. On the contrary, spirit is this power precisely because it knows how to confront the negative and linger with it. Lingering is the magical[2] force that transforms the negative into being…
Thus, the task is not so much to cleanse the individual from the mode of immediate sensibility and elevate them to the level of thought and thinking substance, but rather the opposite: to actualize the universal, to infuse it with spirit, and to dissolve determinate, solidified thoughts, thereby rendering sensuous existence fluid…Through this movement, pure thoughts become concepts and only then are they truly what they are: self-moving, self-circulating entities, spiritual essences that correspond to their substance.
Since, therefore, the system of the experience of Spirit¹ encompasses only its appearance, the process leading from this to the science of the true, as it exists in the form of truth, may seem merely negative. One might argue that it deals with the negative only as false and aim to arrive at the truth without bothering with the false. But why bother with the false? ...
Truth and falsehood belong to those determinate thoughts that, devoid of movement, wish to stand as particular essences, with one on this side and the other on that, rigidly isolated and without mutual communion. ... There is as much falsehood as there is evil. Falsehood and evil are not wicked like the devil [3]; indeed, in trying to regard them as devils, one would make them into particular subjects, whereas they, as false and evil, are only universals, despite having their own nature relative to one another.
The false (for it alone is here under discussion) would be the other, the negative of substance, which, as the content of knowledge, is the true. But substance itself is essentially negative, whether as distinction and determination of the content or as simple differentiation, that is, as self and knowing in general."[4] (Phenomenology of Spirit)
¹ Note: In Hegelian philosophy, the term "Spirit" (Geist) is always capitalized in the original German, as it functions as a substantive. It refers to the self-realizing, dynamic principle of thought and reality. This term encompasses not just individual consciousness but also collective and historical development. While the exact nature of this "Spirit" is not always clear, it is not necessarily a benevolent or divine force, and its implications can range from the highest ideals of human development to more ambiguous or even troubling manifestations. This note is my addition as the translator and should not be interpreted as part of the original author's commentary.
Which "Spirit" Does Hegel Speak Of?
Translator's note: This title is my addition, though the sentence itself is part of the original text.
The spirit Hegel refers to is, paradoxically, both the self and God. Yet, one remains perplexed, for this "spirit" appears solitary; it never speaks of a multiplicity of spirits. Furthermore, this spirit—termed by Hegel as the "World Spirit" (Weltgeist) [5] —seems entirely and perpetually dedicated to systematic, methodical, and irresolvable conflict, under the pretext of "progress" and in the name of "reconciliation." Notably, though Hegel professed to be a Christian Lutheran, he never attributes the quality of "holy" to this Spirit.
Now, as we Christians especially understand, the spirit in itself is nothing other than a subsistent immaterial substance or form, endowed with intellect and will. But there exists a good spirit—divine, angelic, and saintly—that belongs to the blessed souls in heaven and the men and women living in grace on earth, who are God's children. Conversely, there is an evil or malign spirit—manifested as the devil, the spirits of the damned in hell, or the wicked men and women on this earth, whom St. John calls "children of the devil" (1 John 3:20).
For Hegel, dialectical activity establishes a positive that does not reject the negative but "holds fast" to it, ensuring that the negative, through its conflict with the positive, generates a superior positive that surpasses the initial negated positive. The negative, in Hegel's view, is not productive on its own but only insofar as it is dominated by the positive. The positive must not ignore the negative but integrate it.
Thus, in Hegel, the negative negates the negative of the positive, overcomes the previous positive, and reaffirms it in its positivity. This method of progression in Hegel does not seem to deny Aristotle's principle of non-contradiction, which prohibits affirming and denying the same thing simultaneously of the same subject. In Hegel's framework, negation is not a total negation but only of that which must be denied to facilitate progress in knowledge. This point is commendable. Thus, the contradiction is resolved, and reconciliation occurs.
However, if the positive rejects the negative, according to Hegel, it succumbs to the negative, leaving the contradiction unresolved. This might imply that if one confronts an adversary, one may prevail; but if one retreats, one is defeated. These observations are valid. Yet, Hegel confuses this method of acquiring knowledge and virtue with a process that entails duplicity and servitude to two masters. Indeed, he seems to argue that science, in its assertions on a given topic, must not only affirm what appears true but also embrace what appears false, claiming that truth is the synthesis of these two appearances.
Nonetheless, the impression left by Hegelian dialectic is that it remains a dialectic with all the limitations Aristotle already identified. It fails in its ambition to attain the dignity of science, for it cannot deliver a truth that is certain, demonstrated, and irrefutable—a truth capable of reducing the opponent's thesis to absurdity. It operates only on the level of appearances and constructs of reason, and due to its professed reduction of the ontological to the logical, it cannot function on the plane of reality.
According to Hegel, the theses of science are always revisable, debatable, and never definitive—true for some and false for others. Yet such notions are unworthy of true knowledge. Genuine progress in knowledge is not achieved by questioning everything and perpetually starting anew but through coherent development based on solid, immutable, and self-evident foundations, ensuring continuity and the perennial identity of the same truth and its meaning. Concepts must not be fluidified but consolidated. This is the essence of true science.
End of Part One (1/4)
P. Giovanni Cavalcoli OP
Fontanellato, November 2, 2024
source:
https://padrecavalcoli.blogspot.com/p/dialettica-e-diabolica-il-progetto-di.html
References
[1] In XII libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis expositio, Edizioni Marietti, Torino-Roma 1964, Book IV, Chapter II, Lecture IV, n.574, pp.160–261.
[2] A highly significant term Hegel lets slip, offering a glimpse into a background that cannot but arouse concern.
[3] This reference to the devil is noteworthy. Christ tells us instead that, apart from what lies within our responsibility, falsehood, and malice come from the devil. From what follows, it becomes evident how Hegel diverts the discussion in an attempt to dissuade us from thinking about the devil.
[4] Fenomenologia dello Spirito, I, Edizioni La Nuova Italia, Florence 1989, pp.25–31.
[5] Let us remember that St. Paul tells us we do not have the spirit of the world but the Holy Spirit that God has given us.