Does Enlightenment Cause Revolutions?
Johann Adam Bergk (1769-1834) was a private scholar in Leipzig who published widely, both under his own name and under a variety of pseudonyms, in the areas of psychology, legal philosophy, and philosophy of religion. An energetic popularizer of Kant's work, his subsequent writings included studies of Kant's Doctrine of Right and Doctrine of Virtue as well as a discussion of the new French constitution in which this essay was reprinted with a new title that left no doubt as to Bergk's position: “Enlightenment Is the Source of All Political Revolutions.”
Complaints that enlightenment brings about revolutions are so vehement and so common that it does not seem useless to undertake an investigation of their truth and legitimacy. Some writers absolve the enlightenment of these accusations and believe that they must defend its innocence. Others, on the contrary, attack it more and more angrily, and scream and rage against every use of reason which is characterized by autonomy and independence in knowledge, belief, and opinion. One will see from the outcome which of the two parties is right or if both are wrong in their assertions.
The first thing we must do is to explore and define the concept of enlightenment. Its distinguishing characteristic is autonomy and freedom from every alien opinion. All of our knowledge and belief is our property through our own inquiries and our own efforts and is adapted to the form of our spirit. Enlightenment is thus the free, independent use of all of our predispositions and powers in thought and action.l Since every activity of our spirit expresses itself through representation [Vorstellen] as the basis of every thought and action, and since every representation consists of matter and form, there is thus a double enlightenment: a material enlightenment and a formal enlightenment.
What, then, is formal enlightenment? It is the fitness and readiness of all powers for every autonomous use insofar as this has been acquired by means of the development and training of all human predispositions in accordance with their natural ends. Culture and enlightenment are here equivalent. Enlightenment is as various as the differing original predispositions and differing types of activities of the human spirit. Now, man has three predispositions.2 The first predisposition is toward animality, which restricts itself to sensory pleasure. What is most enlightened here is the seeking out and enjoyment of the most enduring, most complex, and most agreeable pleasures. At this level of culture, man is totally passive, for he awaits and receives all of the material of pleasure from (inner and outer) nature through involuntary impressions. The second predisposition is toward reason, a predisposition which expresses itself through thought. This predisposition, whose receptivity to materiality sometimes binds it to animality and sometimes gives itself its own material, always produces itself autonomously and freely. Reason is not compelled, nor does it have obscure impressions. Rather, it conducts its affairs with self-consciousness, it commands as a ruler, and it impresses on everything that it touches the character of its own nature—unconditioned unity and completeness. The man who has the courage and the power to use his own understanding everywhere has reached the highest level of enlightenment in this regard. He therefore genuinely thinks for himself: he has liberated himself from every certainty that has not been freely accepted by the form of intellect [Geist] peculiar to him. The third predisposition is the predisposition toward personality. It tears man completely away from the realm of natural necessity and places him in the realm of freedom. This predisposition manifests itself in two autonomous acts, first as practical reason, second as free will. Independently of all inner and outer compulsion, it determines itself for itself and through its own pure activity. It gives itself a law, which it follows or transgresses through its own freedom. The most enlightened person in this respect is he who, in all his commissions and omissions, acts with consciousness of the law. Such a person has removed all contingency from his life and no longer relates passively to the play of outer or inner impressions. Rather, he possesses a character, that is, the power and prudence always to take up the same maxim through his free action and to subordinate everything to his own autonomy.
Material enlightenment refers to a particular object and is thus as various as the countless objects of sensible and supersensible nature for which men strive and which they can fashion as resting within the boundaries of their knowledge and action. As a result, a man is often reasonable and free of prejudice in one science, yet bigoted and superstitious in others, for example, one who dares to think for himself in everything, only to give up all free use of his reason in theological and religious matters.
Now we can draw closer to our problem of whether enlightenment causes revolutions. By a revolution I understand here neither a sensory (physical) nor an intellectual revolution, but rather a moral one—and indeed not a moral one in the sense of belonging to the domain of the conscience, but a political and legal one, standing under the domain of external laws. I distinguish revolution from insurrection [Aufruhr] and rebellion [Aufstand]. It is not the resistance of an individual against the authorities, or the disobedience of the majority against sundry powers, but rather a violent and total change in the basic principles of a constitution. What, then, is the cause of such an upheaval? It appears to me to have a double aspect: (1) an occasioning (external) cause and (2) a producing (internal) cause. The presence of external causes will never bring about a revolution so long as internal causes are not simultaneously present. External causes strike lifeless bodies that, at most, alter their positions but are then left at rest. Every external and internal cause is related to sensory pleasure or to thought or to law.
A nation whose needs reach only to the sensory neither can nor ever will undertake a revolution, no matter how extremely oppressed it is and how spare and miserable its pleasures, no matter how stifled its cogitative powers and how wounded its conscience. Insurrections can break out within it, but as soon as force appears against them, the nation will sink back into its lethargy and dishonorable patience. Its entire existence is limited to mere sensibility: fear and hope are the sole motives that reign supreme over it. It is therefore cowardly, lazy, accustomed to oppression and despotism, and it fears the loss of its life on this earth in every gentle breeze that its guardian angel arouses in it as a resistance against injustice. But since all of its influencing causes are transitory and changeable, it immediately forgets all of its suffering and seeks to stupefy and to stifle present sufferings in indolence and intoxication of the senses. History still gives us examples of peoples who suffer everything so long as they still can live and clothe themselves. The Turks and all Asiatic and African peoples stand on this level of culture, where every offense against the inalienable rights of intelligible nature will be patiently borne so long as their sensory life is not totally endangered and their demise is not at hand. Revolutions in favor of external rights are impossible for them, even though insurrections often break out and one despot can dethrone another with the help of his slaves.
The second inducement to revolution is the suppression of the expression of cogitative powers. Can their repression bring about an upheaval? Since these activities limit themselves to objects of speculation that always operate in the inner life of man and that can elude all force; and since a nation at this level of intellectual enlightenment feels no moral indignation over interference in the external operation of thought; and since it is affected by neither higher moral indignation nor disdain for physical force or even for death, it will—regardless of how unjustly the use of its powers may be oppressed—never rebel on account of duty and right. It is, to be sure practiced in thinking; however, it does not yet see the commandments of moral nature in their solemn strength, fearful holiness, and judicial seriousness. Nearly all the peoples of Europe stood at this level of enlightenment prior to the French Revolution. However, since this epoch, more peoples have taken powerful strides toward a culture that is of an eternal and unalterable nature, that gives life and courage, that forms greatness of character, and that is sternly bound to right. On every side one asks,”Is this act or that practice just or unjust?'' or “What right does this or that one have?” Just as powerful as the French Revolution is the effect in Germany of the great convulsion that a German man brought about in the realms of knowledge, belief, and opinion, and that will cause incalculable alterations for the betterment of humanity in all that people think and do.3 A nation that possesses merely speculative enlightenment is, at most, cunning, clever, refined, selfish, and still cowardly. Out of a fear of physical violence and the loss of its life, it quietly endures all insults to its inalienable rights and is never in the position to establish a condition of public right [äussere Recht] through a rebellion against injustice.
When, however, the third predisposition is finally developed in a nation, and it has won force, strength, and endurance through practice, it declares courageously and undauntedly that every violation of the rights of man is contrary to duty. The life of the senses is only worthwhile for it because it is the condition for fulfilling the duties of men on earth. If the exercise of their perfect rights are still hindered, they sacrifice their lives as a duty. No other limitation of sensory pleasure, no other commands that seek to place limitations on the cogitative power will be tolerated, except for those within the limits of external laws—of independence, freedom, and equality.4 If a nation stands on the level of moral enlightenment and fearlessly judges right and wrong according to universally valid laws, then continual offenses against human rights will result in a revolution. The nation is acquainted with its duties and rights, it knows what it should and may demand. And even if the greater part of the nation takes no account of its moral indignation at these illegal infringements and even if its feelings are still not raised into concepts which have been illuminated through reflection, such a nation—whose sensitivity to right and wrong has been sharpened and even enlivened by unjust suffering—will require only a slight offense to be placed in a revolutionary condition.
One sees, therefore, that moral enlightenment must precede every revolution, with all its external sufferings and burdens, in order to make a nation eager, strong, courageous, indefatigable, fearless, and unanimous. In epochs of enjoyment and speculation, courage and intrepidity are lacking, and as great a diversity of opinion rules as there are objects for the sensibility and cogitative power. Thus no unanimity or general cooperation is to be expected when oppression curtails enjoyment and tyranny oppresses thought. From the perspective of right, in contrast, we can expect to find unity (since right is contained in the mere form of reason), strength and courage (since right rises above the world of the senses), and disdain for all dangers (since an infinitely persisting enthusiasm constantly invigorates the intent). The foundation of every revolution is therefore external oppression and moral culture. If the external arrangements do not correspond with the pronouncements of conscience, if the nation recognizes or senses the injustices that burden it and mock its humanity, then a revolution is unavoidable. It can be avoided, however, if the constitution keeps equal pace with moral enlightenment, if the government always respects the general will of the nation and executes it, if it does not insolently and rashly continue its offenses against justice, but rather knows the spirit of the time, and how to guide and use it.
So long as a merely sensible and intellectual culture flourishes in a nation, there will arise no thoughts about an alteration of the principles of the constitution. As soon, however, as moral nature develops through the various relationships of men and their conflict with one another, and thus moral sentiments are sharpened and activated, revolutions can only be hindered by bettering the constitution and by introducing a form that administers external law. Material enlightenment has no connection to political transformations. Man is often totally ignored by such enlightened people. What, for example, do our naturalists, astronomers, theologians, jurists, and so forth, care about a just constitution among human beings? Only the impulse toward self-interest is awake and active in them, all their thoughts are either concerned with acquisitiveness or with the improvement of their individual discipline. What does man matter to them? Haven't they repressed or even cut off all the noble activity of humanity in themselves? If one speaks with them about the duties and rights of mankind, they believe that they are listening to a being from another world, our thoughts are strange to them and our demands appear to them to be at best charming fictions and lovable fantasies [Schwärmereien]. And why?—because they are not men themselves. For man first cultivates all of his predispositions and, not defying nature, subordinates none of them to any standard other than that of following their worth and thus the goal of nature. To him everything that concerns man is valuable and precious, and he takes an interest in it as his own affair. He sharpens, exercises, and enlivens his moral sentiments not only to comprehend the just [das Recht] but also to act in accord with its law [Gesetz] and to realize it in the world. With what object, however, are these enlightened ones less acquainted than with themselves? Is not human nature and its effects a totally foreign world to them?
One could now raise the question: May such a (formal) enlightenment be prevented? If I am not mistaken, this means the same as: May man be man? The moral law commands that this be without exception, in that man ought to develop and make useful all of his predispositions and powers since this eases compliance with the moral commandments and promotes obedience to the conscience.5 But can one hinder this enlightenment? So long as men live next to one another and together with one another, their powers will conflict with one another through the intersection of their interests, and thus they attain facility and obtain an ever greater and persistent skillfulness.6 Nature compels man to enlighten himself: and once enlightenment spreads its roots in a nation, it is easier to exterminate mankind than to exterminate enlightenment.
But who now disseminates the most enlightenment among men? Events of the day that have justice [Recht] as their exclusive concern, and the writer. Writers take up this office out of duty, out of a concern for the development of the human species, and for the easing and hastening of its culture. Irrationality, prejudice, lust for power, ignorance, and immorality have risen up against every honest writer, have slandered his intentions, blackened his character, and sought to corrupt his conscientiousness. Writers take up this office out of a duty of conscience, for this reason they are defamed as harmful, and in fact they are. But whom do they threaten with destruction? Not truth or virtue: for the former is what they seek and the latter is what they practice with all their powers so that its dominion may be broadened. Rather, they oppose errors of every sort, they have declared war on all prejudices and vices, and in that they do nothing more or less than a human duty. Hence writers promote revolutions out of a sense of duty: for they ought to illuminate the understanding, enliven the moral sentiments, enlighten the human race about its duties and rights, and benevolently nurture and enrich the minds and hearts of their readers. In doing so, they alter and broaden views on things and inscribe in the hearts of men the demands that they ought and may make. Out of necessity they prepare for revolutions and, when there is a persistence of the tension which consists in citizens' understanding something as unjust since it does not correspond with their claims as men, they cause revolutions. For man has an impulse toward truth and toward justice and concerns himself with making all human arrangements adequate to the laws of truth and justice. Now when one of the representations of that which is subordinated to the free choice of men still bears an alien characteristic, man forces and impels all that is dependent on his freedom to be given a new form, analogous to his insights and his enlightenment. Thus men who hold the arrangement of their state to be unjust or inexpedient can find neither rest nor repose until they have given it a new shape. Why should we therefore falsely absolve writers of the honorable reproach that they cause and promote revolutions? We do not, of course, wish them to act without duty or conscience, to distort the truth, and, timidly and, basely, to leave its service. Is this not to say to them: Depart from human nature and become—Heaven knows what! Each such defense is an insult to reason and a disdain for mankind and can only appeal to the craven, selfish, and immature. Enlightenment is justly accused as the cause of revolutions; and writers, who nurture and bolster culture and contribute to this transformation, share the guilt. But cannot the state prosecute and banish and silence writers if they disturb the peace and bring harm and unhappiness to society? Would you rather perform an injustice than suffer harm, and rather be without conscience than be unhappy? What do you call harm and unhappiness for society? That which conflicts with your prejudices and your self-interest? Your happiness, however, makes for injustice. But what about the whole? Do not worry about the welfare of the world; you do not know what you want. One thing is demanded of you: to do what is right. Let writers make their way, they are the salt of mankind since they guard against stupidity and lethargy. If they act unjustly, they will have to answer to their consciences. As writers, they perform their duty to express their opinion and conviction. If you wish to prevent them from doing this, you overstep your duty, for you injure a right of man in them. Therefore, do you dare to appear before the Holy One with your offering in your heart? Give an account of your actions before Him and be a man!
NOTES
1. Cf. Kant’s definition of enlightenment as “the courage to use your own understanding” in “An Answer to the Question: What is Enlightenment?” (translated above, p. 58)
2. The discussion of these three “predispositions” roughly parallels that of Kant’s Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der bloßen Vernunft AA VI:26-28 (Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, trans. T. M. Greene and H. 13. Hudson [New York, 1960], 21-23). The section of the book that elaborates these predispositions was initially published in the Berlinische Monatsschrijl of April 1792.—TRANS.
3. The “German man” in question is Immanuel Kant.—TRANS.
4. See Kant’s discussion of “freedom, equality, and independence” as the a priori principles on which the “civil state” rests, in “On the Common Saying: ‘This May Be True in Theory, but It Does Not Apply in Practice’” (AA VIII:290-297), an essay that initially appeared in the Berlinische Monatsschnt in September 1793.—TRANS.
5. In lectures on ethics delivered between 1775 and 1780, Kant argued that among the duties to oneself was a “universal duty which devolves upon man of so ordering his life as to be fit for the performance of all moral duties” (Lectures on Ethics, trans. Lewis Infield [London, 19791, 125). Kant made the same point in $51 9 22 of his Metaphysik der Sitten, published two years after Bergk’s essay.—TRANS.
6. Cf. the “Fourth Proposition” in Kant’s “Idea for a Universal History with a Cosmopolitan Intent,” AA VIII:20-22 (Kant, Political Writings, pp. 44-45).—TRANS
Originally published as “Bewirkt die Aufklärung Revolutionen?” Deutsche Monatsschrift (1795): 268–279. Bergk attached a note to the title characterizing this essay as “a sketch for further contributions of political, legal, and psychological content, which will shortly appear.” The essay was republished in his 1796 book Untersuchungen aus dem Natur-, Staats- und Völkerrecht mit einer Kritik der neuesten Konstitution der französischen Republik.