|
|

Cornelius Castoriadis |
Cornelius Castoriadis /
Anexo 01 / Anexo 02
Contenidos disponibles en
español y en inglés - Availables resources
in spanish and english -
Compilador
Jorge T Colombo
Philosopher of the social imagination,
co-founder of the legendary group and journal Socialisme ou
Barbarie, seminal social and political thinker credited with
inspiring the May 1968 events in France, professional economist at
the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development,
practicing psychoanalyst, distinguished Sovietologist, and critical
conscience of the international Left, Cornelius Castoriadis died
December 26, 1997, in Paris at age 75 from complications following
heart surgery. He is survived by his wife Zoé, their daughter Cybèle,
and an elder daughter, Sparta.
Praise now flows in. Le Monde's
obituary, written by long-time friend Edgar Morin with whom he
coauthored a book on May '68, bore the title "Titan of the Spirit."
C. L. R. James scholar Kent Worcester spoke for many left
libertarians when he called Castoriadis "our Isaiah," referring to
another recently deceased freethinker, Isaiah Berlin. Even the
French Communist Party newspaper, L'Humanité, acknowledged
the significance of this radical anti-Communist opponent, labeling
him "an essential dissident."
And yet Castoriadis's ideas long
remained better known than his name. To avoid deportation from
France, he had to write under pseudonyms. Beginning in the 1960s
Socialisme ou Barbarie's sister organization London Solidarity--and
later Philadelphia Solidarity--circulated "Chaulieu" and "Cardan"
translations with a certain success.(1) Only in the
1970s did Castoriadis gain French citizenship and begin to publish
under his own name so that student radicals moved by his ideas might
discover who had inspired them. A first English translation appeared
in 1984. 1997 marked a watershed year with the appearance of a new
collection of writings, World in Fragments, a retrospective
Castoriadis Reader, the paperback edition of his magnum
opus The Imaginary Institution of Society, a special
Thesis Eleven issue, and a webpage (http://www.agorainternational.org/).
Castoriadis avoided the intellectual
fashions of his day. Such French trends as fellow-traveling,
existentialism, structuralism, poststructuralism, deconstruction,
and postmodernism (the latter championed by former S. ou B. member
Jean-François Lyotard) were among the targets of his fierce and
withering, yet often humorous, criticisms. Nor did he fit the mold
of German Critical Theorists, from Max Horkheimer, Theodor Adorno,
and Herbert Marcuse to Jürgen Habermas, all notoriously weak in
their criticism of "Soviet" Marxism. He thought for himself and with
a small band of workers and intellectuals who refused to give in to
fads or to countenance oppression of any sort. His journal was
active in the fight against the French Algerian War, but Castoriadis
never indulged in "Third World" rhetoric or offered "critical
support" to "left-wing" dictators.
This steadfast, clear-eyed
independence won him and his group admiration and helped to build a
radical non-Communist Left in postwar France. Though critical of
himself as well as others, Castoriadis never renounced his belief
that ordinary people can run their lives and institute self-governance
without bosses, managers, professional politicians, "leading parties,"
priests, experts, therapists, or gurus. There was no "God that
failed," for there was no God, no "Reason of History," no
"inevitable dialectical process" to guarantee success or to save
people from self-created folly, or from tragedy.
Castoriadis was born March 11, 1922,
in Constantinople. His family emigrated a few months later to avoid
Greco-Turkish strife. He grew up in a prewar Athens marked by
dictatorship, world war, occupation, and liberation. A member of the
Greek Communist Youth at fifteen, he soon formed an opposition
group. In the extremely polarized atmosphere of wartime Greece, most
members returned to Communist ranks. Castoriadis joined the most
left-wing Greek Trotskyist faction, a decision that placed him under
threat of death from both fascists and communists.
The defining political moment of
Castoriadis's adult life occurred in December 1944, when the Greek
CP attempted a coup d'état. Even fellow Trotskyists, who were hoping
that the event would drive the CP leftward, thought it presaged
revolutionary changes. Castoriadis disputed their optimism. With a
prescience that would become characteristic, he predicted that the
putsch, if successful, would have resulted not in the revolutionary
creation of a classless society but in the installation of a regime
similar to Russia's. What ultimately determined the course of events
was the presence of British troops in Athens and prior Big Power
arrangements. But the subsequent establishment of totalitarian
regimes throughout Eastern Europe and the rest of the
Balkans--including Yugoslavia, which was not "liberated" by
the Red Army--amply confirmed this prognosis.
Castoriadis escaped what soon turned
into the bloody Greek Civil War when he received a French
scholarship. He left Piraeus in December 1945 on the Mataroa, a New
Zealand troop ship since become famous for bringing a generation of
Greek intellectuals, including Kostas Axelos and Kostas Papaioannou,
to France. In Paris he joined the Trotskyists and began to develop
the consequences of his radical libertarian anti-Stalinism. Years
before ousted Yugoslavian CP leader Milovan Djilas became famous for
characterizing Communist bosses as a "new class," Castoriadis
analyzed "bureaucratic capitalism" East and West. He distinguished a
"fragmented" form in the West--where, in the wake of the Depression,
the New Deal, world war, and the rise of a welfare State, a stratum
of state and private managers, accompanied by the bosses of business
unionism, began replacing private owners of capital as principal
director of production and the economy and main antagonist of
workers--from a "total and totalitarian" form reaching demented
heights of terror under Stalin's regime of apparatchiks.
The first to have translated Max Weber into Greek, Castoriadis was
aided in this original, if highly unorthodox, extension of Marxian
theory by this sociologist's writings on bureaucracy.
It was on the question of the
Trotskyists' "unconditional defense of the USSR" that Castoriadis
first opposed the Fourth International. In 1948, French Trotskyists
proposed an alliance with Tito's police State, then on the outs with
Stalin's Cominform. Socialisme ou Barbarie, the group he had formed
with like-minded internal opposition forces, transformed itself into
a separate organization. Around that time, Detroit radicals centered
around Raya Dunayevskya (Leon Trotsky's secretary in Mexico), C. L.
R. James (the Trinidad-born Pan-Africanist, literary critic, cricket
writer, and Trotsky's interlocutor on the "Negro Question" in his
adopted America), and Grace Lee Boggs (a Chinese-American woman who
had studied philosophy in prewar France) broke with American
Trotskyism and co-operated with S. ou B. during the 1950s. What
distinguished S. ou B. from many other revolutionary groups was its
idea that socialism meant not rule by a "leading party" versed in
Marxist theory but workers' management of production and
society.
In Socialisme ou Barbarie's
1949 inaugural issue, Castoriadis predicted that the working-class
response to Stalin's takeover of East Europe would be a revolt
against "its" new bureaucracy. Workers' councils set up during the
1956 Hungarian Revolution strikingly confirmed his prediction even
as this workers' revolt against "Communism" threw much of the Left
into disarray. Along with S. ou B.'s cofounder Claude Lefort,
Castoriadis and his review challenged the fellow-traveling of such
prominent French intellectuals as Jean-Paul Sartre. (Lefort had
studied with French philosopher Maurice Merleau-Ponty, who
eventually resigned as political editor of Sartre's journal, Les
Temps Modernes.) Sartre was later heard to say, "Castoriadis
was right, but at the wrong time." Castoriadis quipped that Sartre
had the honor of being wrong at the right time.
Developing his concept of
"bureaucratic capitalism," Castoriadis asserted that the main
struggle had become that between "executants," or "order-takers,"
and "directors," or "order-givers." What distinguishes
capitalism--especially in its bureaucratic stage of giant factories,
huge geographically-dispersed corporations, and complex technical
apparatuses--from earlier class societies based on slavery or
feudalism is that workers now keep the system operating not by
obeying orders (slave revolts or Jacqueries serving as
counterexamples from previous societies) but by resisting
and contraveningthe irrational and often absurd orders
given by managerial strata cut off from the everyday reality of
production (the sure proof being the devastating effect of "working
to rule"). This resistance, expressed initially in cooperation among
"informal groups" at work, also encouraged a tendency toward
autonomous action that could serve as a basis for the transformation
of society, he argued. With a managerial bureaucracy in state-run
enterprises, private businesses, and top-down, integrated unions
replacing capital ownership as the distinguishing feature of
capitalism, those who perform the tasks of production had to be
encouraged to participate and to show initiative. At the same time,
however, management found that it must combat independent
decision-making on their part.
Out of the experience of the
Hungarian Revolution Castoriadis composed his classic statement of
how a self-managed society might work. Still today, "On the Content
of Socialism" serves as a reference point for libertarian
socialists. But the uncontested ascension of De Gaulle in 1958
brought another phenomenon to his attention. For S. ou B., Gaullism
represented modernization for France, not incipient fascism. With
the collapse of the revolutionary movement and the advent of "modern
capitalism," bureaucracy both encouraged and fed upon mass
privatization and depoliticization. Apathy becomes the norm when
people's drive for participation is systematically thwarted.
Yet by the very early sixties
Castoriadis also noticed countervailing trends. Before many others,
he recognized that the shop stewards' movement in England, the
nascent youth, women's, and antiwar movements, and the struggles of
racial and cultural minorities offered prospects for revolt against
modern society that might give rise to unpredictable and
unprecedented expressions of autonomy, alternative ways of living.
The logical conclusion of Russian
Communism's bankruptcy and the rise of modern capitalism--with its
simultaneous encouragement and exclusion of people's participation
and the resulting new forms of contestation--was that Marxism itself
had become a deadening ideology of oppression, out of touch with new
movements and aspirations for change. In the final issues of S.
ou B., Castoriadis posed the new alternative in stark terms:
one had to decide between remaining a Marxist and remaining a
revolutionary. He chose the latter option. "Marxism and
Revolutionary Theory" (1964-5) challenged structuralist as well as
functionalist explanations of society and history while Paris was
still in the midst of a Lévi-Strauss-Althusser-Foucault
structuralist craze.
In 1967 Socialisme ou Barbarie
disbanded. But its key ideas continued to gain ground. The older
brother of May 1968 student leader Daniel Cohn-Bendit had attended
the group's meetings, and "Dany" himself proudly proclaimed his
"plagiarism" of Castoriadis and S. ou B. Still a foreign national
working for OECD and so restricted from engaging in politics,
Castoriadis maintained a low profile during the student-worker
rebellion. But he and other S. ou B.-ers helped students turn May
'68 into the largest strike France had ever known. Calls for
"autogestion" (self-management) in universities and factories echoed
his 1949 manifesto, "Socialism or Barbarism," and appeals to the
"power of the imagination" recalled his final S. ou B.
text.
Castoriadis spent the last thirty
years of his life overseeing publication of his S. ou B.
texts (Political and Social Writings in three volumes) and
ceaselessly developing, out of his last S. ou B. essay, a
highly original conception of history as imaginary
creation--irreducible to any predetermined plan, whether natural,
rational, or divine. In Imaginary Institution and an
ongoing collection of writings (translated as Crossroads in the
Labyrinth, Philosophy, Politics, Autonomy, and
World in Fragments), he elaborated his views without ever
disavowing his original conception of "workers' management" and
expanded that germ of an idea into a "project of autonomy"
stretching from ancient Greece to the present day.
Castoriadis retired in 1970 from his
OECD position as Director of Statistics, National Accounts, and
Growth Studies, a job that had enabled him to study in depth the
major developed capitalist economies. He became a practicing
psychoanalyst in 1974 and was elected a Director of Studies at
Paris's École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales in 1979. As an
analyst and in lectures and books, he developed a distinctive
renewal of Freudian theory based on an original "psychical monad"
that must be socialized by force and that never fully accepts the
social individual into which it is fashioned. Dreams (overtly sexual
or not), slips, "acting out," transgression, and even subversion
testify to the persistence of this ineliminable asocial core of the
psyche--which, when partially socialized, can serve as an
inexhaustible source for imaginative social change.
For Castoriadis, reports by Jacques
Lacan, Michel Foucault, and others concerning the "death of the
subject" and the "death of man" were, like Mark Twain's death,
"slightly exaggerated." With his wife at the time, Piera Aulagnier,
Castoriadis challenged the reigning Lacanianism in French
psychoanalytic circles, instigating a break with Lacan's "Third
Group" in 1968. He opposed this rhetoric with the idea that
psychoanalysis--like pedagogy and politics, though in different
ways--seeks human autonomy. The goal of psychoanalysis is to
establish "another relation" with one's unconscious, one
characterized by lucid self-reflection and deliberation, a clearer
recognition and acceptance of one's unconscious imaginary creations.
The Freudian restatement of the ancient Greek injunction, "Know
Thyself," received a powerful new articulation quite out of step
with today's faddish therapeutic, drug-dependent, and
antipsychoanalytic trends.
Castoriadis's most original and
enduring contribution, however, is as the philosopher of the social
imagination. The true opposition is not "the individual versus
society," mediated by "intersubjectivity," but psyche and society as
mutually irreducible poles, for the original psychical monad cannot
by itself produce social signification. In creating "social
imaginary significations" that cannot be deduced from rational or
real elements or forces, each society institutes itself--though
usually without knowing that it is doing so and in most cases
preventing itself, by heteronomous means, from recognizing its own
self-institution. Castoriadis's concept of the "radical social
instituting imaginary"--with its enduring difference, and mutual
inherence, between "instituting society" and "instituted
society"--breaks with both functionalism and structuralism while
providing the key to understanding an original form of being, "the
social-historical," a self-instituting and self-altering unity that
is irreducible to the physical, the biological, or the psychical.
Two key themes are worked out in his
later writings. The first involves Castoriadis's rediscovery of the
imagination. The imagination, Castoriadis found, unsettles the
entire edifice of our "inherited philosophy." In On the Soul,
Aristotle provided what became the standard view of the imagination,
one marked by irreality, mimicry, an impotent negativity. Although
apparently settling things there, Aristotle took up phantasia
again at the end of his treatise in a way that violated his
canonical separation of sensation from intellection. Conversely, as
twentieth-century German philosopher Martin Heidegger had noticed,
Immanuel Kant granted the "Transcendental Imagination" a central
position in his Critique of Pure Reason (1781) but then
dislodged it a few years later in the second edition. Heidegger
describes this turnaround as Kant's "recoil" from the consequences
of a powerful and unbridled imagination. Curiously, Heidegger
himself then dropped all mention of it. Castoriadis also observed
that, while Sigmund Freud spoke of "phantasies" all the time, the
founder of modern psychoanalysis refrained from naming, let alone
examining, this strange power to bring the imaginary, the
non-existent, into being.
A second major theme is the
"co-birth," in ancient Greece, of philosophy and politics. As the
conscious questioning of society's instituted representations,
philosophy develops hand in hand with politics, which Castoriadis
described as society's lucid attempt to alter its own institutions.
Both are associated with the autonomy project, which Castoriadis saw
as later expressed in early burgher challenges to Church
and King, the American and French Revolutions, and workers',
women's, and youth movements of Western societies, as well as in
modern attempts to pursue philosophy beyond theological confines.
Castoriadis devoted particular attention to the advent of citizen
democracy in fifth-century B.C. Athens. He examined its
direct-democratic institutions in order to contrast them with
"representative" ones that establish permanent place-holders
divorced from average citizens in today's "democracies." Castoriadis
preferred the term liberal oligarchy to describe current
Western political arrangements.
Castoriadis never stopped working. He
was to lecture in the United States against recent fads in
psychoanalysis. "We have to keep trying," he wrote me in a note, "to
spread across the Atlantic" that "plague" of self-knowledge Freud
said he was bringing with himself when he visited America. And
Castoriadis had completed an article on "The 'Rationality' of
Capitalism" shortly before the recent global market collapse. He
wondered how far capitalism could--according to, but also against,
its own "logic"--go toward turning the world into a "planetary
casino" of currency and finance speculation. Every few days, he
noted, sums greater than the entire US GNP are electronically
gambled worldwide via leveraged bets of no productive utility.
Castoriadis's work will be remembered
for its remarkable continuity and coherence as well as for its
extraordinary breadth. It was "encyclopaedic" in the original Greek
sense, Morin noted, for it offered us a "paideia," or education,
that brought full circle our cycle of otherwise compartmentalized
knowledge in the arts and sciences. Castoriadis wrote
ground-breaking and trail-blazing essays on physics, biology,
anthropology, psychoanalysis, linguistics, society, economics,
politics, philosophy, and art, never claiming a spurious "expertise"
conferred by specialization or losing sight of the overall picture.
Autonomy appears as a key theme in his early postwar writings. Not
until his death did he stop elaborating on its meaning,
applications, ramifications, and limits.
Death itself, it happens, was a
recurring theme. We require an "ethic of mortality" to counter
heteronomous promises of eternity. This ethic was an integral part
of the Greek view that an afterlife, should such a thing exist, is
worse than life on Earth. As a democratic institution, tragedy--a
public performance of a play that ends in death--reminded the
Athenians of the ultimate meaninglessness of one's thoughts and
actions as well as of the need for self-limitation to keep
hubris in check:
The sole genuine limitation that
democracy can bear is self-limitation, which in the last analysis
can only be the task and the work of individuals (of citizens)
educated through and for democracy. Such an education is impossible
without acceptance of the fact that the institutions we give
ourselves are neither absolutely necessary in their content nor
totally contingent. This signifies that no meaning is given to us as
a gift, any more than there is any guarantor or guarantee of meaning;
it signifies that there is no other meaning than the one we create
in and through history. And this amounts to saying that democracy,
like philosophy, necessarily sets aside the sacred. In still other
terms, democracy requires that human beings accept in their actual
behavior what until now they almost never have truly wanted to
accept (and what, in our utmost depths, we practically never accept),
namely, that they are mortal. It is only starting from this
unsurpassable--and almost impossible--conviction of the mortality of
each one of us and of all that we do, that people can live as
autonomous beings, see in others autonomous beings, and render
possible an autonomous society.
In his work and in his life,
Cornelius Castoriadis lived this democratic ethic of mortality until
the very end.
|

Cornelius Castoriadis |
Bibliography of Cornelius
Castoriadis Books in English
-
Crossroads in the Labyrinth,
trans. Martin H. Ryle and Kate Soper (Brighton, England:
Harvester and Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1984).
-
The Imaginary Institution of
Society, trans. Kathleen Blamey (Cambridge,
England: Polity Press and Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press,
1987; paperback edition Polity Press, 1997).
-
Political and Social Writings,
trans. and ed. David Ames Curtis, 3 vols (Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 1988, 1988, 1993).
-
Philosophy, Politics,
Autonomy, ed. David Ames Curtis (New
York: Oxford University Press, 1991).
-
World in Fragments,
ed. and trans. David Ames Curtis (Stanford, California: Stanford
University Press, 1997).
-
The Castoriadis Reader,
ed. David Ames Curtis (Oxford, England and Cambridge,
Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 1997).
N.B.: A more complete bibliography of
writings by and about Castoriadis, as well as additional news and
information about the author, may be found elsewhere on the
Cornelius Castoriadis/Agora International Website.
1. Berkeley Free Speech activist
Mario Savio subscribed. London Solidarity, which smuggled
translations into pre-Solidarnosc Poland, also produced some
classics of libertarian socialism: Maurice Brinton's The
Irrational in Politics, on the authoritarian personality, and
his Bolsheviks & Workers' Control, on Bolshevik hostility
to workers' management. Rev. 14 iv 2006.
La sabiduría
revolucionaria de Castoriadis - Ximo
Brotons
A raíz de la reciente publicación de El siglo de Sartre, de
Henri-Lévy, el suplemento de libros del diario Le Monde dedicaba una
página entera a glosar la figura de Sartre como gran intelectual del
siglo, contraponiéndola por su magnitud y audiencia a varios
intelectuales franceses mucho más minoritarios y marginales y por
tanto no tan imprescindibles, entre los que sobresalía por encima
del resto Cornelius Castoriadis.
Pero la actual y encomiable rehabilitación de Sartre no puede recaer
de nuevo, tal como apuntaba no hace mucho Ramoneda en las páginas de
Babelia, en una suerte de reinado sartreano que conduciría al resto
de intelectuales franceses al limbo de la especialización o de la
literatura. Y esto tanto menos cuanto que en la gran tesitura del
siglo, es decir, en el momento de enfrentarse con las armas de la
pluma al horror nazi y estalinista, ninguno de todos estos
intelectuales fue tan claro y tan preciso en la denuncia sin
condiciones de ambos totalitarismos como Cornelius Castoriadis
(griego de nacimiento y escritor en francés, primero en la revista
Socialismo o barbarie que fundara junto a otros personajes como
Lyotard o Lefort, y luego en los libros que fue publicando a partir
de los años 70), mucho más próximo en este punto a los pensadores
judíos alemanes de la Escuela de Frankfurt o de una filósofa como
Hanna Arendt que del glamour parisino de la bohemia y los cafés.
En este sentido Castoriadis (1922-1997) está siendo hoy publicitado
sobre todo como el gran debelador tanto de los regímenes comunistas
del Este como del capitalismo occidental, ambos definidos según su
pensamiento por la estructura jerárquica y burocratizada de dichas
sociedades. Sólo que siendo la burocracia capitalista una burocracia
fragmentada que sigue dejando algún que otro resquicio a la
libertad, la burocracia soviética se regía por un capitalismo
burocrático total. Mientras que el totalitarismo soviético lo
inundaba todo, el totalitarismo capitalista no habría conseguido
totalmente aún su propósito de someter la vida al puro imperio del
dominio irracional e ilimitado de la técnica...
Por todo ello reviste un gran interés la reciente publicación de La
exigencia revolucionaria (Acuarela), obra escrita en los años que
según el lúcido prólogo de Amador Fernández-Savater fueron los más
fecundos en la trayectoria intelectual de Castoriadis: los 70. Poco
después de esta obra el pensador griego acometió la gestación de su
trabajo más importante, La institución imaginaria de la sociedad, en
la que además de una crítica radical del marxismo el autor realiza
un análisis de los entresijos del movimiento revolucionario
democrático que pone en radical tela de juicio, asimismo, al actual
capitalismo que nos gobierna. Hoy, una década después de que el
neoliberalismo (“última baratija lanzada por la publicidad de la
industria de las ideas al mercado”, dice de él Castoriadis,
descalificándolo además por pseudo-“religioso”) decretase el final
de la historia y el triunfo irreversible del capitalismo mercantil y
de la democracia representativa, la furibunda crítica que de este
sistema realizó Castoriadis a lo largo de toda su vida sigue en pie
con más vigor que nunca, dada la evidente iniquidad del rumbo que ha
tomado tal celebrado triunfo después de la caída del muro de Berlín
en 1989.
Sociedad autónoma
A mi modo de ver, la propuesta principal de Castoriadis puede
resumirse así: no hay que conformarse con una democracia como mero
mal menor (idea básicamente aristotélica que el orondo Churchill
hiciera célebre a mitades del siglo XX), sino que se trata de luchar
por la realización de una democracia radical, esto es, de una
sociedad en la que el origen de la ley resida en la autonomía
individual y colectiva de todos los seres humanos. Las leyes
revocables que éstos instituyesen promoverían a su vez la autonomía
individual y colectiva de todo el conjunto de la sociedad.
Políticamente, pues, la crítica de Castoriadis se dirige a la
heteronomía que gobierna nuestras sociedades, en las que casi
siempre el origen de las leyes es extra-social (natural, “racional”
o trascendente). La díada “sociedad instituyente-sociedad
instituida” le sirve al autor para afirmar que dicha diferencia,
incluso en una democracia radical, no puede ser borrada. No teman,
entonces, aquellos que al hablar de democracia directa en seguida
ven llegar los fantasmas de la anarquía o de otras utopías
perniciosas; abolir la heteronomía y apostar por la auto-institución
explícita y consciente de la sociedad no significa abolir la
diferencia entre lo instituyente y lo instituido, sino “abolir el
avasallamiento de lo primero por lo segundo” tal como sucede en
nuestras democracias representativas y mercantiles.
¿Qué entiende Castoriadis por auto-institución explícita de la
sociedad, “conocedora de sí misma y dilucidada en la medida de lo
posible”? Una palabra de viejo sabor izquierdista (señores, ¿será en
estos tiempos de imbecilismo derechista disfrazado de progresismo
demasiado pedir el volver a alimentarse en serio de la única
tradición que debemos conservar quienes no queremos democracias
clónicas y demás sucedáneos pseudo-sociales?) le sirve a Castoriadis
como idea-fuerza de su apuesta intelectual y práctica: la
autogestión. La autogestión individual y colectiva no es imposible,
y según cómo se mire resulta mucho más factible que hacer turismo
por la Luna o montarse un chalet en el planeta rojo, o mucho más
verosímil que el hecho de que cada día mueran miles de personas por
inanición física o decapitados por hordas salvajes armadas hasta los
dientes de machetes y fusiles.
Quizás es cuestión, en efecto, de imaginárselo. Para prevenirse de
tentaciones anarquistas (a las que Debord planteó críticas muy
precisas en La sociedad del espectáculo), Castoriadis señala que la
autogestión o auto-organización lo es asimismo “de las condiciones
social e históricamente heredadas en las que ésta se desarrolla”.
Este dato parecería aproximar a nuestro autor a la ortodoxia más
puramente marxista, pero del mismo modo que Debord rehuyó
eficazmente las limitaciones anarquistas, gran parte de la obra de
Castoriadis estuvo dedicada exclusivamente a plantear críticas muy
severas y muy bien fundadas a Marx y al marxismo. No es éste el
lugar para analizar en detalle el contenido de este desmarque claro
y rotundo de las tesis marxianas; digamos únicamente que la
transformación de la realidad exigida por Marx pasa efectivamente
por el establecimiento de condiciones distintas (por un cambio en la
infraestructura, para entendernos), sólo que Castoriadis va más allá
y señala con tino que incluso la infraestructura no es más que otra
institución que, aunque toda ella material, requiere para su
transformación de la intervención humana, de tal modo que la primera
exigencia para cambiar el mundo debe ser de índole intelectual: así
evita por su parte Castoriadis las tentaciones “provisionalmente”
heterónomas de los marxistas como Debord evitaba las tentaciones
puramente éticas del anarquismo.
Filosofía y democracia
A causa de este matiz y observando la trayectoria final de sus
libros, se le ha criticado a Castoriadis la deriva filosófica,
teórica o puramente abstracta de sus últimos años. Pero esta crítica
olvida que precisamente la institución de una democracia radical
empieza por la actividad filosófica, actividad en este sentido tan o
más concreta que la institución de las bases prácticas de la
libertad o que los hipotéticos debates y decisión en torno a los
asuntos cotidianos de la comunidad. Sobre la relación entre
filosofía y democracia hay un largo párrafo en La exigencia
revolucionaria que no me resisto a transcribir: “El individuo, tal y
como lo conocemos a partir de algunos ejemplos y tal y como lo
queremos para todos; el individuo autónomo, que sabiéndose envuelto
en un orden-desorden carente de sentido en el mundo, se quiere y se
hace responsable de lo que es, de lo que dice, de lo que hace, nace
simultáneamente y del mismo movimiento en que emerge la ciudad, la
polis, como colectividad autónoma que no recibe sus leyes de una
instancia exterior y superior, sino que las instituye ella misma
para sí misma. La ruptura de las heteronomías mítica o religiosa, la
contestación como significaciones imaginarias sociales instituidas,
el reconocimiento del carácter históricamente creado de la
institución –de la ley, del nomos- es, en un grado deslumbrante,
inseparable del nacimiento de la filosofía, de la interrogación
ilimitada que no conoce autoridad ni intra, ni extra-mundana –como
el nacimiento de la filosofía es imposible e inconcebible fuera de
la democracia”. Lejos de resultar abstracta o irreal o anecdótica,
la filosofía, al menos una filosofía que revista todas las
características aquí apuntadas, resultaría en cambio la primera
praxis democrática al alcance de todo el mundo y la primera crisis
abierta en el entramado de la sociedad alienante. Casi me atrevería
a decir que la teoría filosófica puede ser la primera base práctica
de las libertades reales y efectivas.
Un filósofo judío-holandés de origen hispano, Spinoza, escribió que
“el hombre no nace sino que se hace”. Esto significa que la
fabricación de hombres y de mujeres corre a cargo de la sociedad, y
que en la orientación y manera como esta fabricación se realice
radica toda o gran parte de la cuestión ético-política de la
sociedad humana. La educación en sentido amplio, o la cultura
(universal y no compartimentada, se entiende): éste es el asunto.
Por eso las querellas sobre lo abstracto de la filosofía carecen de
fecundidad cuando la filosofía no se agota en la Razón y se expande,
en cambio, como esa interrogación ilimitada que funda no sólo la
ruptura del orden establecido de la sociedad sino también las bases
prácticas y reales de la revolución entendida justamente como
auto-institución explícita de la sociedad. Más humanamente explícito
que la filosofía no hay nada, y si a Castoriadis se le puede achacar
que dice siempre lo mismo hasta el aburrimiento, es porque quizás ha
sido el intelectual más explícito y más completo del siglo. En su
reivindicación de la historia como creación ex nihilo (es decir,
como creación cuyos efectos exceden a las causas, o sea, como exceso
del efecto sobre la causa) y no como repetición de lo dado, en su
idea de la revolución como “apertura repentina de la historia”, en
su demolición de la división social del trabajo y de la política
profesional entre dirigentes y dirigidos, en su rechazo de la
homogeneización que el principio de identidad opera en la sociedad,
en su exigencia de la igualdad total de los salarios (reivindicación
que, en negativo, está siendo hoy planteada como renta básica), en
su crítica del “trabajo para el beneficio” y en su apuesta inversa
por el trabajo creador y dotado de sentido humano, etcétera, en
todos estos frentes la profundidad y amplitud del pensamiento y de
las declaraciones de Castoriadis nunca dejan de hacernos pensar que
la exigencia revolucionaria de la institución autónoma de una
democracia radical no es sólo imposible sino que resultaría desde
ahora mismo, a poco que lo pensemos, mucho más beneficiosa para los
fines verdaderamente humanos de la libertad y la igualdad que el
“progreso” depredador que nos vende la nueva barbarie económica.
Libertad sobre el abismo
En su espléndido libro El miedo a la libertad, Erich Fromm distingue
entre la “libertad de” los vínculos tradicionales y la “libertad
para” vivir mejor. Uno de los efectos positivos de las sociedades
capitalistas modernas surgidas a partir de la baja Edad Media fue
promover como nunca hasta entonces en la historia (o como en la
Grecia solar y trágica que dio nacimiento a la filosofía y a la
democracia) la primera de estas dos libertades. En el mismo sentido
Deleuze y Guattari subrayaron en ¿Qué es la filosofía? los
paralelismos entre la Grecia clásica y la sociedad moderna: “El
vínculo de la filosofía moderna con el capitalismo es por lo tanto
de la misma índole que el que une la filosofía de la antigüedad con
Grecia: la conexión de un plano de inmanencia absoluto con un medio
social relativo que también procede por inmanencia”.
Dada esta inmanencia que ha favorecido la “libertad de” en muchas
partes del planeta, la cuestión principal estriba ahora en qué hacer
con la libertad para, libertad actualmente empequeñecida por las
cotizaciones bursátiles que pueden hacer del capitalismo (y el
nazismo y el estalinismo valen como pruebas indelebles) un sistema
económico promotor de fascismos limpiamente liberticidas. Y es que
para dar alimento y cobijo, cualquier dictadura puede resultar
incluso más eficiente que la mejor de las democracias
representativas, como ha quedado demostrado en Chile con Pinochet o,
en cierto modo, en Cuba con Fidel Castro.
En La exigencia revolucionaria y en otros libros, Castoriadis no se
cansa de repetir la misma pregunta que se hacían Fromm o Deleuze:
“libertad, ¿para hacer qué?”. En su liberador repudio de nuestras
sociedades de hobbies y lobbies intenta teóricamente y con ejemplos
prácticos acabar con esta separación entre el “hombre privado” y el
“hombre público” que fundamenta el resto de las separaciones
jerárquicas y burocráticas. Su apuesta por la unión de lo
ético-político tiene la fuerza de las ideas que surgen de lo que
podríamos llamar, en contraposición a ese miedo analizado por Erich
Fromm, el amor a la libertad. Un amor libre, activo y social, que
danza en el abismo que nuestro destino humano de seres mortales nos
abre bajo nuestros pies y en nuestras cabezas. Sigue estando en
juego aquí la cuestión del saber qué, pero nunca fue tan sabia la
“sabiduría revolucionaria” de Castoriadis cuando a la pregunta de
qué tipo de sociedad revolucionaria propondría, contesta diciendo:
“Eso no me corresponde a mí formularlo si la sociedad quiere ser
verdaderamente revolucionaria, esto es, autónoma”.
Podemos tener algunas pistas. En los movimientos feministas o en las
revueltas juveniles Castoriadis vio un movimiento de mayor calado
aún que el movimiento obrero del XIX, pues estos movimientos atacan
a estructuras antropológicamente más profundas y anteriores que la
explotación económica, como la familia o la herencia. Habla también
a favor de la ecología urbana y no es difícil imaginarlo metido en
el meollo de los actuales movimientos contestatarios de la
mundialización econócrata (si se me permite el neologismo). Savater,
utilizándolo para despojar al cosmopolitismo kantiano de toda unción
providencial, planteaba en su libro Despierta y lee la posibilidad
de un caopolitismo que una universalmente esas libertades que bailan
sobre el abismo. Etcétera.
Libertad para hacer qué del caos, una vez liberados del orden
heterónomo: éste sería acaso el primer punto a discutir en las
asambleas democráticas de las sociedades post-revolucionarias. En
todo caso, la respuesta al qué depende de nosotros, sabiendo -no
como excusa para la resignación sino como acicate para seguir
luchando- que la ignorancia en torno al quid de la cuestión sigue y
sigue dando vueltas en el aire, alejando así la tentación
totalitaria de la verdad única, eterna y definitiva.
Lo escribió García Calvo en su hermoso poema Sermón de ser y no ser:
“y queda en alto
sólo la moneda de oro de lo que no sabemos”.
Así es: si sigue en alto esa moneda de oro es porque amamos la
libertad, y si esa moneda de lo que no sabemos nos causa desasosiego
eso es debido a que nuestro amor a la libertad brota de nuestro amor
a la vida.
Cornelius Castoriadis /
Anexo 01 / Anexo
02
|