THE QUESTION OF THE UNIVERSAL SO CONSTANTLY RECURS throughout the philosophical tradition that one might be tempted to think of it as being a perplexity, more or less universal. The quest of the universal is also deeply intimate to that long tradition, though that intimacy is not often, if at all, made a theme for reflection. Why are the intimate quest and the universal question not held together? Can we wed the intimacy of the quest with the universality of the question? Can we speak of the intimate universal? What is this intimate universal? Why speak of it at all? How can we speak of the intimate universal? Does this universal withdraw from our grasp with a transcendence of which we are not the measure? Does it elude us in an intimacy verging on the inarticulate? Or is the intimate the space wherein the universal comes to articulation? Do we need a plurality of lines of approach to do justice to its significance? The different explorations of this work will suggest how we might respond to such questions, and do so diversely. Can we, how can we, do justice to the intimate universal? This will be our concern.
One is struck by contradictory attitudes toward the universal in the history of thought. There is no doubt that a preferential option for the universal throughout the long history of philosophy is echoed in religious and theological reflection. This preferential option mutates into new forms with modern developments of scientific theory, now being implemented on larger scales by means of practical and technological applications. It also seeps into a multitude of political arrangements or formations, even granting that the universal is sometimes hindered by, or counterfeited by, these formations. Yet one would be deaf to contrary currents if one did not hear loud shouts that counter the universal in recent post-Enlightenment, indeed anti-Enlightenment thinking. I want to dwell on some of these contrary attitudes here by way of introducing the intimate universal.
First, to the longer-standing practice of the honoring of the universal, how to speak of it? One notes how many thinkers breathe far more freely with the universal than the intimate. The universal, they hold, puts us out in the open, so to say. We are not locked up in ourselves, or to be locked up. We enter the space of what is more than ourselves. The universal offers us a public space for thought, so the philosophers will insist; or a communal forum moderating antagonism for the practice of a religion, as a variety of theologians will concur; or a neutral or unbiased intermedium for scientific theory, as those practicing science without particular frontiers will claim. The universal is corrective to wayward selving, be it religious, philosophical, or scientific. It disciplines that waywardness in the direction of the socially or institutionally approved line. It is therapeutic in releasing us from obsession with our small selves. It is elevating in lifting us to a higher level of the real. It is redemptive of our solitudes, since in and through it we are no longer alone and find our place within the larger whole.
To illustrate: one thinks of the overriding tendency in recent philosophy to reject subjectivisms or “privacies” in favor of linguistically meditated responses, be these on the Continental or analytical side of philosophy. One thinks of religious movements in which it is the community of believers, not to say millennial traditions with their sanctioned public rituals and liturgies that receive the accolades. One thinks also of the internationalism that is immanent in the scientific quest of the universal. This preferential option for the universal is especially evident in the suspicion that any predilection for the intimate will end in something smacking of mere “mysticism.” At the mention of mysticism the response will be like someone with a sweet tooth being forced to suck lemons—the smile on the face vanishes as the mouth puckers in sour distress. This is evident among the philosophers, and while scientific theorists might not give the matter much thought, one would undoubtedly find the same face of sour distress at claims not completely containable within the public universal. One notes too how institutionally based practices of religion often look with suspicion on mystical claims: these claims skirt the edges of orthodoxy in their often highly paradoxical modes of expression, if not sometimes idiosyncratic practices of devotion.
What then of the second contrary current? Recently, it is notable that there is a more antagonistic attitude to the universal that we find in critics of the Enlightenment project. This is a complex business, but one important aspect of the matter is the imputation of pretense to the rational universal. This pretense communicates the pretension to speak on behalf of all rational beings, indifferently, neutrally, homogeneously, fairly; but the pretension is pretense in that the speaking hides the elevation of a particular way of thinking, or indeed way of life, in the paradigm of universality, and in the masking of its incorrigible particularity. What is to be decried is the failure to be universal of the pretense to the universal. And in this instance, the lesson to be drawn is that the pretense to the universal can only be that, pretense: the recessed particularity is always more ultimately constitutive of our situation as such. Now our task is not to rally to the defense of the universal but to advance the recovery of the recessed, even subjugated particularity. Reversing decamping from the particular to the universal, we pitch our tents on the plain of particularity and fly there the colors of singularity, never to be surpassed by mere generality.
There are signs in relation to this second current that the universal is now receiving more respectful treatment, not least in reaction to the overreaction of the anti-Enlightenment scourgers of the universal. Is this to the good in relation to the intimate universal? I would say that my suggestion of the intimate universal does not find itself fully at home in either of the two contrary currents. The meaning of this is to be seen in the working out of the suggestion. Yet one can see that if there is an intimate universal it must address something of what appears justified in both of these contrary currents. This too must be addressed in the sequel.
In respect of what is to come, and at the risk of appearing to be too abstract and not concrete enough, I think it would be helpful to distinguish a number of senses of the universal, whether we take flight into the universal or away from it. I will just briefly mention four prominent senses in the philosophical tradition (there are more, and they will be touched upon in the body of the work). First, there is the
Platonic universal: the Idea as transcendent to the instances in becoming. Second, there is the
Aristotelian universal: the universal is immanent in the process of becoming. Third there is the
nominalist universal: the universal is nothing ontologically beyond, and nothing ontologically immanent, but merely a sound of the voice, a
flatus vocis, affixed to a particular idea that tries to insinuate a more general range of reference. Fourth, there is the
idealist universal: this is said to be the concrete universal, not simply beyond the particular, and certainly not just a sound of the voice, but a universal that concretizes itself in immanent becoming. The idealist universal might seem the most promising in that it is seen as overcoming the “beyond” as a mere indefinite abstraction, as particularizing itself in response to the nominalist “this,” and as being immanent like the Aristotelian universal but as actively self-realizing itself over the whole range of the actual. Is there a further sense of the universal? I want to say there is. This is what I call the intimate universal and it might be contrasted with these other senses of the universal thus.
I would say, first, that the intimate universal is not the Platonic Idea to the extent that this Idea stresses a transcendence under the sign of dualism, thus making it problematically related to immanence. There is a transcendence at work but the universal as intimate is not transcendent in the form of a dualistic opposite. That said, there is a side to the Platonic quest for the universal that returns us to the singularity of those seeking the universal. We see this most especially in the singular person of Socrates. A saturated sense of singularity is of importance for the intimate universal. The Platonic quest of the universal shows itself mindful of the metaxu, the space between the intimacy of the singular soul and the universality of the forms, not to mention the daimonic hyperbole (daimonias huperbolēs) of the Good (see Republic, 509c1–2).
Second, the intimate universal is not the Aristotelian universal, if it should be held that the becoming of immanence leaves
no room for transcendence as such. There is indeed an intimate immanence calling for our acknowledgment and exploration; but this is an intimacy that opens beyond immanence as such. In the intimacy of immanence the promise of a universal togetherness or community is at work, one that is not exhausted by the more organic or biological becoming that often serves as the basis of the immanence of the Aristotelian universal. In due course, I will suggest that the religious community is a truer and more ultimate articulation of what this intimate universal is all about, and such a community is inseparable from both a robust sense of transcendence and a deeply engaged sense of immanence, and indeed an irreducible sense of human freedom, singular and communal.
Third, the intimate universal is not the nominalist’s generality either, since the latter risks reducing all beings to particulars and collections of particulars. The particular as intimate might be understood rather as an opening to the universal that is immanently at work in it. Something of this is at stake in the saturated singularity I just mentioned. One might say to the nominalist: the particular words the universal. The nominalist is right to stress the word (flatus vocis), and the wording, but the universal is not just our wording, attached extrinsically to external particulars. The particular words itself, and in this wording reveals its being as participating in the universal, reveals it as being worded. The nominalist, one worries, does not understand the true ontological depth of the particular wording the universal, of the particular as itself a being worded. Hence the nominalist not only has no adequate sense of the intimate universal, but tends to lose the thread with any true universal, and indeed the promise of the name.
Finally, and fourth, the intimate universal is not quite the concrete universal of the idealist. For even though in this view there is an immanent universal as particularized, there is not enough of robust transcendence as other and of the wording of this transcendence in true signs. There is also not a rich enough appreciation of the ontological depths of the intimate, which, as a result, tends to be portrayed privatively as a mere private indeterminacy, ultimately of no real philosophical significance. The sense of the togetherness of intimate and universal, in turn, tends to be ceded to an inclusive totality that is the encompassing universal that subsumes the particular in itself. By contrast, in the intimate universal there is togetherness at work from the origin, but the origin is not a lacking indeterminacy but an overdeterminacy of too much. This has to do with the ontological surplus of being at work in the most intimate immanence and in solidarity with the most unconstrained transcendence. And, as we shall see more fully, the community that the intimate universal comes to realize is not an inclusive totality but an openly intermediating gathering of others, the most richly concrete and intimate embodiment of which is perhaps to be named as the religious community.
This last suggestion will awaken the worry of the more rationalist philosopher: Is this all not too redolent of an equivocal “mysticism”—the fated end of the pathway of the intimate, fatal to the universal? The question of communication and communicability has much to do with the issue. Indeed, there is something intimate about the mystical, whether in relation to the nocturnal depths in the soul or the divine heights beyond the soul. And one can see the tension with the universal, which as most often understood is
diurnal to reason, and nothing but diurnal (Dante: “Reason’s wings are short”).
1 Elsewhere I connect the intimate with what I call the idiocy of being,
2 and there does seem to be something idiotic about the mystical—it is at the boundary of, perhaps beyond the boundary of, the more neutrally available and public generalities. But the question is whether it is
merely idiotic, in the respect of being outside all rational communication. One could say that this is not incommunicable tout court. The idiotic intimacy is rather at the source of communication, or closer to the sources, instead of being an autistic retraction out of communication.
To illustrate: we speak of an “idiom” of a people or a person, and in the “idiomatic” we can see a connection with the “idiotic.” But an “idiom” is not some autistic retraction from the shared space of diurnal reason but a singular way of communication. And qua communication it is not neutral, not indifferent; it is stressed and inflected with its own singularity. Thus an idiom might communicate a singularity that might indeed express the idiosyncrasy of an individual; but it might also manifest the peculiar character or linguistic style of a particular people. The contrast of the merely private and the generally public will not do justice to this idiotic complexity of living communication. The intimate universal does more justice. I want to explore how that justice of the intimate universal offers much: how it can help one appreciate the ontological and political worry about the totalizing universal; how it can aid one to see the point of being existentially true to given immanence; how it can religiously share in the recuperation of unclosing transcendence; how it can indeed endorse a certain poetic voicing of the particular.
The Intimate Universal: Exoteric Reflections
An overview of the whole will be of help. I offer it even though I worry that a too curt summary of the chapters will create a too cut-and-dried impression, rather than communicating the seeking and sometimes secret interrogatory nature of the exploration as a whole. I divide the work into two parts, the first part being engaged more with what I term
exoteric reflections, the second part with
systematic thoughts about the intimate universal. When I speak of exoteric reflections, I do not mean to suggest, by implied contrast, an esotericism of the universal accessible only to intimate circles of elites. Exploring the intimate universal is not easy, but it is also not impossible, and if one gives one’s patient and dedicated thought over to the matter itself it is available for communication. Some modes of its communication may be more readily to hand in terms of already-laid-down forms of significance, diversely available for reflective thought. This is what I intend by focusing in part 1 on religion, art, philosophy itself, and politics. Our human being is constituted by being religious, being aesthetic, being political, and by our reflective power to become mindful of their meaning. Exoteric reflections do not begin with some stipulated technical language but in the midst of things. By thinking in and out of the midst of things, a more refined wording of our being in the between can emerge, indeed must emerge, to do justice to what is coming to manifestation there. While my own work has attempted to define such a wording, and in due course some of the more distinctive vocabulary of that wording will come into play, I think we can reflect in the midst of things on our being religious, artistic, philosophical, and political in light of the intimate universal. Each is a crucial space where the significance of the intimate universal comes to articulation.
I gave thought to beginning more coaxingly with art and the intimate universal rather than with religion. The latter might strike some as more abrupt than coaxing, given certain currents of our Zeitgeist uneasy with, even hostile to, religion. In
chapter 1, I do begin with religion because I consider our being religious to be closest to the fecund matrix of significance in relation to what is often called our sense of the “whole,” or (as I would prefer to put it) our being in the between. In some developments, it is true, religion was presented as one specific sphere of engagement within the whole, but this occludes its power to reveal the most primal and elemental sense of the intimate universal. I also begin with our being religious because it is the
most idiotic, idiotic in the sense above noted. True, it can come from and open onto madness, but my question is whether also it can show an
idiot wisdom.
I address the issue in terms of the contrast of cosmopolis and ghetto as two possibilities reflecting responses to the frequently posed question as to what comes after modernity. Cosmopolis and ghetto might be taken as emblematic of two fundamental orientations to the universal and the intimate, the first suggesting a universality beyond particularity, the second a particularity intractable to subsumption into the universal. I argue against an “either-or” between the universal and the intimate, as seems suggested by this contrast. In connection with a certain understanding of our being religious, the intimate universal can be held to address the rightful claims of singularity and universality. Something about being religious does not yield its fullest meaning to the neutral universal of traditional philosophers, not yet the concrete universal of Hegel. At the same time, it asks that we avoid the sheer assertion of singularity, outside all universals, as advocated, now religiously, now antiphilosophically, by some post-Hegelians. My search will bear on how the event of monotheistic religion, and especially Christianity, points us in the direction of the intimate universal. There are implications for “political theology,” especially the unavoidability of the theological qua theological and the irreducibility of religion to politics. There is something transpolitical about the intimate universal that yet is saturated with implications for the practices of politics. One has to step away from the tendency of the political to absolutize its claim to sovereignty, generating thereby in immanent time a mortal pantheon of counterfeit doubles of the divine.
In
chapter 2 I ask if and how art throws light on the intimate universal, or if and how the intimate universal might light up art. Unlike Hegel in his doctrine of absolute spirit, I do not treat of art first, since the religious is the more primal, as I said, though the permeability of art and the sacred will not be far from the thoughts tried out here. Aristotle famously said that poetry was more philosophical than history because it more implicates the universal, but what sense of universality is at stake? Is there not something ineluctably singular about the work of art? My question will concern if and how in the singularity of the work we find the communication of the universal. If we do, what does this say about both the singular and the universal? The often sterile opposition of universal and particular must be questioned. I think we cannot deny something that touches us intimately in art, and yet the intimacy is not closed into isolated singularity or subjectivity. Quite the opposite—something is communicated in the aesthetic intimacy that radiates beyond such closure. One point of continuity with the exploration of religion and the intimate universal relates to exploring the immanent sources of creativity and the communicative impulse that carries us beyond closed immanence.
A still not adequately understood matter is the migration (in post-Enlightenment times) of a sense of ultimate significance from religion to art, and the yet continuing familial relation of these two.
3 The notion of the intimate universal helps us more deeply understand what is at play in art, while not forcing us into an aestheticism that takes art out of the fuller flow of life. Likewise, it does not make of art such an other to (philosophical) thought that the quest for universality is to be rejected in the name of inarticulate singularity. There is a concentrated power to art that helps us become mindful of the catholic fermenting of the intimate universal, without our having to make it only a particular illustration of some general concept. Along the way, the intimate universal throws new light on the aesthetic reflections of thinkers like Kant, Hegel, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, and others. Our own era sometimes seems to be in revolt against the universal, but there is a sheltering of the universal in the intimacy of being in which art, even in revolt, always participates. This is not least because of the primordial communicative field in which art participates. (In part 2 this field or intermedium in a wider sense is explored in the idiotics and aesthetics of the intimate universal.)
In
chapter 3 I ask how the intimate universal might have a significant bearing on the practice of philosophy itself. We immediately think of philosophers as the high priests of the universal, but these high priests do not always convince nonphilosophers, be they artists or religious believers, that their service of the universal deserves the ultimate devotion. If sometimes the philosophers demand from the intimacies of religion and art that they prove themselves in connection with the universal, here the call is directed to philosophy itself, as a practice of truth, to prove that its service of the universal is in the spirit of the most intimate truthfulness. To this end, I connect the philosophical service of the universal with a more intimate sense of “doing justice” that is prior to the more usual juxtaposition of theory and practice. There is a connection with issues of social justice here, though my stress on this prior sense of “doing justice” turns us to giving an accounting of an ontological vulnerability that is prior to both social power and social vulnerability. The relevant sense of “doing justice” connects philosophy to a service of “being true” that implicates an elemental fidelity to truth that we neither possess nor construct, and that precedes all efforts to enact justice in a more normal ethical or political sense. This elemental charge to be just precedes any just act. The philosophical participation in the intimate universal means that there is a patience of being or a receiving of being before acting, which we must take up reflectively and actively.
All this has implications for the practices of philosophy in regard to political engagements. Most significantly, access to this prior sense of doing justice cannot be a matter of will to power; it entails a discipline of truthfulness that transcends will to power. The practice of the philosopher, under fidelity to the intimate universal, asks for a standing back from the foreground fluctuations of political will to power. We reenter the void space of the intimate soul, which is ontologically vulnerable, hence both open to be terrorized and capable of terrorizing. This intimate void is a porosity of the soul rather than a pure nothingness. Though it is not a particular project or activity, this porosity allows all openness, receiving, and self-transcendence; out of it come all the practical energies that feed diverse activities. This poverty of philosophy means the relinquishing of those (ultimately) meaningless activities of construction that we sometimes see as our defiant rejoinder to a purposeless universe. The defiance of this hyperactive nihilism is entirely misplaced if the ethos of given being is the intermedium of the intimate universal. Also misplaced is the hyperactive frenzy of (ultimately) meaningless construction. There is a release in our willing to be nothing, as we participate in a graced patience of being that is before all servility and all sovereignty, and that witnesses to the justice that is beyond them.
In
chapter 4 I consider the intimate universal in relation to politics, for some the space of the public par excellence. Does ontology or metaphysics have relevance for how we understand that relation? I believe that we need to ask as much about a political metaphysics (ontology) as about a political theology, or a political aesthetic. If the intimate universal has metaphysical significance, this has relevance for our political orientations, not least in relation to the meaning of freedom, here explored with reference to something beyond servility and sovereignty, the slave and the master. This significance, in both its intimacy and its universality, may not be immediately evident. The secularization of politics has not only privatized religion; it has privatized metaphysics, as indeed it has aesthetically tended to privatize art. We can look at privatization in at least a double perspective: the exclusion of the privatized from the public space of politics; or accession to the space of the more intimate where the universal asks to be elementally rethought, both in the midst of things and from the origin up. In this second perspective, the one adhered to here, a proper ontology of this more elemental intimacy of our being will show its communicative power, even unto a variety of formations of political order. The ethical is often granted this mediated effect, but how we understand the “to be,” as well as the good of the “to be,” percolates into political forms. How we think intimately of the good of being or the evil of being will manifest itself here too.
If there are different participations in the intimate universal, one must say that there can be a sense of metaphysics that is also intimate to politics. For even though the intimate universal may be incognito, in actuality the public space of the political is still re-sourced by enabling sources of being. If metaphysics makes an approach to the intimate universal, it is more often than not recessed in the space of the political, but it is not inactive there just because it is recessed. This is not only true with regard to the potential for universal norms and the diverse sources of ethical value informing the space of the political, but also true of the percolation of the intimate universal into daily life, apart from all efforts to privatize this completely. We have tried to make religion and metaphysics private, having nothing to do with the political universe; but if this privatization is no longer credible in politics, perhaps also the intimacy of “political metaphysics” deserves some consideration (on the analogy with political theology).
This has to be considered, if
to be (at all) is to participate in the intimate universal. Let politics be more local (even ghetto-like) or more universal (even international or cosmopolitan); there is no reason why it too does not participate in the intimate universal, especially in regard to the sourcing of diverse forms of power, political or other. These forms can hinder or enable. If they hinder metaphysical mindfulness, or religious porosity, or aesthetic finesse, it will be all the more difficult to be open to the intimate universal. That there is something transpolitical here is signaled by the agapeic service that is neither servility nor sovereignty. Blindness to the “political metaphysics” of the intimate universal can breed counterfeits of the intimate universal. The intermedium of being is warped into a breeding ground of corruptions of power. One thinks of monstrous forms of (say) the erotics of sovereignty that mutate into tyrannical species of will to power. One worries too that “globalization,” as seemingly a project of the universal, functions by an exploitation of the intimate; its all-consuming universality reconfigures, economically and cybernetically, this intimacy of being in terms of counterfeit doubles of desire, circulating via the media of the dominion of serviceable disposability. And it will not do to say we are all now denizens of a “postmetaphysical” time. If to be human is to be, and if to be is to participate in the intimate universal, then metaphysics sticks with us. Being “postmetaphysical” is being metaphysical in a way that wants to make an impossible exception of itself. It is best to know what abides (with) us.
The Intimate Universal: Systematic Thoughts
By contrast with part 1, where religion, art, philosophy, and politics are explored as determinate spheres of human significance, part 2 considers the intimate universal in a more systematic frame, focusing on what it means for being human as such, how it is manifested in all the ontological dimensions of our being. The more exoteric side of part 1 deals with these determinate spheres as perhaps more familiarly known apart from systematic considerations. But because part 2 concerns the being of the human, with as much stress on the being as on the human, we must invoke ontological considerations in a form more systematic than the reflective explorations of part 1 need.
To offer systematic thoughts, again apropos of exoteric reflections, is not to hold to something simply esoteric. Every search for the true does entail an engagement with the hidden, and even when the hidden comes to light, universal access to it entails qualitative discrimination, not quantitative neutrality. Finesse for the intimate universal calls for qualitative discrimination. To be thus discerning is aided by the power to think the systematic connections of a matter under consideration. To think of one thing is to think of another, and connections emerge intimately from dwelling mindfully with the thing itself. In being led on from one thing to another, an open systematic network of connections comes to emerge, sometimes from sources otherwise secret. Our task as philosophers is to be systematic in this open, searching and connecting sense.
Being thus systematic is not to make claims to possess
the system. It is not systematic in any deductive or transcendental or speculative sense. Moreover, it is quite compatible with mindfulness of what is before system and beyond system.
4 We must delve into original (re)sources before and beyond the religious, the artistic, and the philosophical as more determinately formed. This holds true also of the political, and so we must do justice to the prepolitical and the transpolitical. These diverse determinations of our being are to be seen as derivative from something prior and something outliving the determinacy and the self-determination. They point to a prior overdeterminacy of enabling (re)sources that both companions and outlives the determinate formations of being religious, aesthetic, philosophical, and political.
An outline scheme might describe the matter thus (always remembering that every scheme is a determination, hence not true to the fullness of what is in play): the idiotics deals with (re)sources closer to indeterminacy, the aesthetics with rich, surplus determinacy, and the erotics with the passionate nisus toward self-determinacy, while the agapeics is communion in love with the overdeterminacy. I would add the important proviso that the idiotics, aesthetics, and erotics are each involved in unfolding the promise of the agapeic overdeterminacy. They each are participating in this overdeterminacy and in the intimate universal but qualifying this in a particular direction. Our thinking need not be an “either-or”: not a matter of saying that one alone instantiates it, and the others lack it, and hence the latter having to be excluded. This “either-or” thinking is very prevalent—it reveals a kind of univocalizing in which one form is said to be the thing, and that is that, and hence the others are not the thing. A philosophy friendly to the amplitude of the universal cannot be narrowly partisan—but it should also court the intimacy of the intimate universal. The kingdom of thought offers a communication of welcome in both its intimacy and its universality. The univocalizing can breed a contestable “essentialism.” We say that the essence is here and nowhere else, then construct a picture based on a univocal “either-or.” But metaxological thinking as openly systematic is dialectical and transdialectical. The “either-or” is not the last word, or even the first. A univocal “either-or” is to be dialectically dissolved as a fixation, in order to reveal the promise concealed in the fixation. This promise is transdialectical and points toward a metaxology of the intimate universal.
In
chapter 5 we start with the idiotics, addressing first the predeterminate
intimacy of the intimate universal, an intimacy very difficult to address directly, since all our addresses are already more determinately articulated in a more or less public space than the idiotics of the intimate as such. Here I explore what lies at the deepest ontological intimacy of our being, what I call the porosity of being, the patience of being, the endeavor to be, the love of being as good and its mutation into evil and will to power, the piety of the family. Because it names a threshold of communication and more determinate articulation, the idiotics tends to become hidden as we move through the aesthetics, erotics, and agapeics, wherein something takes over that seems more graspable in terms of universality. This is potentially deceptive, however, since
already in the intimacy the universal is at work, though not known as such, even when lived most fully in the agapeics of communication. Equally in the aesthetics, erotics, and agapeics, seemingly out in more public space, the idiotics is
always the secret companion. We need to be mindful of the recessed as well as the expressed, and mindful of the secret power of the intimate, even when more public modes of communication seem to recess it. Once again, there is no need of a dualistic opposition or “either-or” between the intimate and the universal. There is the
incognito working of the intimate good, even in evil, in the idiocy of the monstrous. The inviting smiles of the public men may at times be fake, but faking intimacy is still an intimate faking. The universal does not quash the intimate if it is truly the universal, just as the intimate must be more than an autistic idiocy. This universality is not of the rational concept but constitutive of our being, intimate to it. Likewise, the idiocy is not autistic but constitutes ontologically the first (silent) source of communicative being. This will be more fully explored.
In
chapter 6 we see that in the aesthetic there is an intimacy that is elemental and bound up with our
being embodied participants in the field of being as itself an aesthetic happening. In that aesthetic intermedium, something of the metaxological promise of the universal is at play. We will have already seen this in relation to art in part 1, but here the stress is more on the universality of aesthetic happening as the embodiment of the intimacy. We can remain true to this, we can reconfigure it, we can mutilate it, we can communicate the secret of its promise more out in the open. More than the idiotics, the aesthetics of the intimate universal is out in the open in this more determinate embodied sense. This is at issue here: the intermedium of the aesthetic between, and our own being as aesthetic in that between. While aesthetic happening is more determinate than the idiotic, there is the carry-over into it of the intimacy that communicates itself. We see this in the self-surpassing that marks sensuous flesh itself. The idiotic, it turns out, is overdeterminate, not merely indeterminate, and aesthetic determinacy comes to be in that original overdeterminacy, begins to take on form, forms itself. Here we are dealing not with a solitary subject reaching out but with an embodiment of the intimate universal, incarnating a porosity of being that finds its home not only in our fleshed porosity to what is other, but in the very porosity of being itself, as an intermedium of potentially unrestricted interplay. This is not indeterminate but determinate and more than determinate, and not just self-determining but overdeterminate.
In
chapter 7 we turn to the erotics of the intimate universal, aware that there are those who would divorce erotics from the universal. If the universal is the preserve of reason, we sometimes think eros precedes or exceeds reason. Then we tend to foster a dualism of eros and reason, but this is too simple, and untrue to both eros and reason. As rooted in the flesh of the aesthetic body, the erotics does bring further to the fore the self-surpassing of the human being that, while particularized, is not merely particularistic. That the intimate universal is at work in this self-surpassing and that it is in excess of our sober self-determination constitute no arguments against the universal but are signs we must think of the universal differently. I see the intimate universal rather as charging the field of intermediation as a matter of “being with”—
sunousia. Sunousia relativizes the abstract universal, surprises and breaks through the confines of self-enclosed particularity. The erotics of the intimate universal implicates our wording the between: the coming of logos, our coming to logos, out of inconstant fluctuations of desire. Adventuring out beyond, surpassing, the
conatus, our being “born with” out of the original porosity, finds the received
passio essendi turning into a seeking, infinitely restless, in quest of the intimate universal. We find our longing for its more express actuality or for the actualization of its promise in ourselves. Our longing is its belonging with us (
sun-ousia) before our belonging with it. In line with the idiotics and aesthetics, the erotics of the universal is its actualizing intimacy, actualized in light of this primordial “being with” (
sunousia).
Already from the origin, the primordiality of being at all is a “being with,” a
sunousia. I connect erotics with the aesthetics of happening, with nature naturing, with the generation and perpetuation of life, with the love of life, with life itself as love of life. I mean a secret love of being and a universal love—potentially of all being—high and low, particular and universal. As we will see, the
directionality of the love is crucial. There is the question of the intimate love, in relation to its dark origin, as well as in relation to the beyond of itself, with others and with the divine. The intermedium of intercourse is saturated: intensely intimate and extensively related; selfish and ecstatic; energizing selving beyond selving, and yet lost in the other beyond selving, and tortured with loss, when the beloved other is not—all these. There is a difference of directions between a going up and a going down. There is a vertical energy in being ecstatic; there is also a going down into depths of intimacy. There is a going out to ranges of extended community, and this not always to the cost of the intimacy. Erotics is a crossing, crisscrossing, of the between where intimate participation in partnership unfolds our being in community, embodying and touching the universal. Among other things, we must note those contemporary understandings of erotics that accentuate the going down prior to universal reason into depths of darkness in our most intimate desiring. The matter of transcending up, say, in the Platonic way, becomes perplexing. Not a few have grown uncertain about the power of eros to elevate. The origin is more intimate to erotic desire than desire to itself, but this intimacy now seems horrifying—an abysmal, bottomless chaos. This is one of the reasons we have understandably shunned it, covered it over, have reacted with dread at the prospect of facing its horror. But horror is not the first word or the last. The two directionalities have to be acknowledged and traversed: we must go down into the darkness, we must climb again into the light above us. In all this, there is reversion to the idiocy; there is extroversion to the others of love; there is superversion to the superior in our introversion and coming to the boundary of the intimate; there is the companion who is one’s friend in the labyrinth.
Finally in
chapter 8 we turn to the agapeics of the intimate universal. The promise of this is immanent from the outset. The agapeics of the intimate universal communicates a surplus generosity that was secretly enabling in the idiotics, aesthetics, and erotics. It is also prepared with the friend, the trusted companion in the labyrinth. The promise in the intimate universal is more than symmetrical relations between friends. Mindfulness of this surplus generosity offers a different picture from much of modern political thought, where the underlying motivation of all human association is our lack, interiorized in anguish before death, extroverted in will to power, enacted in aggression against the other as a potential enemy. In the face of the threat of what is other, we secure ourselves, and the porosity is closed with a security border. Thus in Hobbes and others after him, fear of death rather than love of life moves all associative relations. In truth, and to the contrary, we only fear death because we love life. The love is more primordial.
The surplus of the agapeics moves us into a space of communication beyond that which envisages the other as a potential enemy. This space is not the condition of life as war, when eros becomes the bad Eris (there is a good Eris, as the Greeks knew). The bad Eris is always on the verge of falling out of the affirming “to be” of eros and into the destructive course of death. The intimate universal tells against this reduction of generosity. The incognito generosity shows a surplus of affirmative “to be” as good that is always at work, though it be driven out of the foreground of our picture of things. This is the truer manifestation of the intimate universal promised in the idiotics, the aesthetics, and the erotics. Beyond servility and sovereignty it is not the sovereign who is the exception but the agapeic servant. This is the exception to the economy of will to power. This is the exception not by defining political sovereignty but by being prior to and beyond politics—prior to and beyond political servility and sovereignty. This is the exception by being beyond the law differently, being a good that endows law, doing this through agapeic generosity, not through imposing will to power. At issue is not quite political religion, not even religious politics—though both can be informed by the agapeics of the intimate universal. The agapeic servant is the life, the way, the truth of the intimate universal. The agapeic servant incarnates the living promise of the intimate universal and redeems it.
The Intimate Universal: The Allowance of Thought
The division of the work into two parts might seem to reflect, as I said, a distinction between more exoteric and esoteric considerations, but while there are secret sources to be explored, I mean nothing secretive about the second part. Quite the opposite. Exploring the intimate universal in the open systematic manner in part 2 reveals this double requirement: receptivity to the often recessed (re)sources of intelligibility, secret in that sense; and the struggle for intelligible articulation, nonsecretive in being potentially open to all who are receptive to the wording of the intimate universal. The point extends to hospitality to the “trans-systematic,” that is, to what cannot be included entirely in a system of determinate concepts. Normally considered, the universal seems to lend itself to systematic articulation, the intimate to exceed such articulation. But the sense of systematic thought operative in this work implicates rather how we have to do special justice to the
thresholds between the systematic and the trans-systematic, between what diurnally appears more determinable in conceptual form and what more nocturnally enables determination and determinability, yet exceeding exhaustive self-determination.
Religion, art, philosophy, and politics are not to be sealed off from one another. There are permeabilities between them that are surprising. They are often in clandestine communication because each in distinctive ways is communicative of the intimate universal. They manifest the intimate universal in a plurivocal and not univocal way. In quest of their hidden porosity, the impossibility of sealing them off from one another does not mean they collapse into one another. In their differences there is something more like a metaxological community of significances.
I do fear that in this introduction I have started too abstractly and not intimately enough, but if so, the work overall will try to do better concrete justice to both the universality and the intimacy. I do not think it is enough to stipulate a universal and then proceed to apply it. Such a pathway would be a bit like Kant’s determinative judgment: we already know the universal and then subsume the particular under it, or apply it to the particular, with results then closer to the logical universal or the scientific. Rather, the way here is a bit more like what Kant calls reflective judgment: here we are more familiar with the particular but something about the surplus of givenness sends us in search of the universal appropriate to it. The matter is one of allowing this other sense of the universal to emerge from the intimacy itself, allowing our thought to be in quest of it, in search of it. This quest is not to be exhausted in a determinate universal, or a universal project of self-determination. Nor is it a matter of the merely indeterminate. There is something overdeterminate about the intimate universal, reflected in the emergence of a “more” that always exceeds our determination, and that yet invites us on to efforts at truthful articulation. What is more about it awakens the self-surpassing of our thinking, though what is to be thought exceeds our every self-surpassing.
One could argue that this is most appropriate with metaxological thought about religion, art, and philosophy: in the intimacy of being, to let the universal show itself. I am also put in mind of Kant’s aesthetic ideas (a theme to which I will return), which entail representations or images that draw us into a quest of the unconditioned, awakening much thought to which no determinate thought is entirely adequate. There is always more. What I mean by the religious is closer to this, but something of the aesthetic in the requisite respect informs us about how we might think on the threshold between the determinate and the overdeterminate. On the threshold, thought is in quest of the more, though this goes into the idiocy before the aesthetic and goes beyond the aesthetic into the erotic and the agapeic. There is a teasing of and by the intimate universal; there is a kind of wooing, and tracing, and a coaxing kind of reflection. Between system and poetics I would venture that a kind of aesthetic construction guides this work, though aesthetic with qualifications. Both system and poetics differently participate in the intimate universal. Each chapter is a kind of aesthetic whole—an open whole, that is to say, a
metaxu, poised on the permeable threshold between living participation and reflective articulation. There is permeability between these wholes, permeability perhaps more evident in part 2. There is the porosity of these wholes to their own beyond. In the between spaces, and on the emergent thresholds of these open wholes, the intimate universal comes to wording.