Daniel Conway
Prior to the publication of The Antichrist, Nietzsche described it as “the most independent” book ever presented to humankind (TI “Skirmishes” 51). In his letter of October 4, 1888, to Malwida von Meysenbug, he praised The Antichrist as “the greatest philosophical event of all time, with which the history of humankind will be broken into two opposing halves” (KSB 8: 447). Two months later, in a draft of a letter to the Danish critic Georg Brandes, Nietzsche boasted that The Antichrist is “actually a judgment on the world [Weltgericht],” in part because it delivers a “deathblow” (Vernichtungsschlag) to Christianity, whose collapse will create the geopolitical power vacuum he planned to exploit (KSB 8: 500).1
Nietzsche’s general sense of his accomplishment in The Antichrist is conveyed most clearly (and most ominously) in its intended companion book and prelude, Ecce Homo.2 He begins Ecce Homo by explaining that it is now incumbent upon him to introduce himself to those who, by all rights, already should know who he is and what he is about:
Seeing that before long I must confront humanity with the most difficult demand ever made of it, it seems indispensable to me to say who I am. (EH P1)
Although he does not identify the grave “demand” (Forderung) with which he very soon will confront humankind as a whole, or the “task” (Aufgabe) whose eminence outstrips the diminished faculties of his contemporary readers, we may conclude with some confidence that he has in mind the “revaluation of all values” (Umwerthung aller Werthe), which his recently completed book by the same name was meant to inaugurate (EH P1).
The book in question, which is known to us as The Antichrist, lies completed before him. (It is in fact one of the “gifts” (Geschenke) for which he expresses his gratitude in the interleaf epigraph of EH.)3 Indeed, he most likely has The Antichrist in mind when he claims that
one day my name will be associated with the memory of something tremendous—a crisis without equal on earth, the most profound collision of conscience, a decision that was conjured up against everything that had been believed, demanded, hallowed so far. (EH “Destiny” 1)
As this passage suggests, Nietzsche apparently intended Ecce Homo to provide potentially sympathetic readers with a favorable impression of the philosopher who soon would render the terrible “decision” to which he refers.
The production history of these two books further attests to the grandiosity of Nietzsche’s expectations for The Antichrist. Upon completing the envisioned First Book of The Revaluation of All Values on September 30, 1888, he promptly shelved this “explosive” manuscript, turning instead to begin work on the book that would become Ecce Homo. While the goal of Ecce Homo is, as he says, to introduce himself to potential readers of The Antichrist, he attests more candidly in his correspondence from the period to the strategic aim that motivates his efforts to introduce himself. In a letter to Heinrich Köselitz (aka Peter Gast) on October 30, 1888, he confides,
To be sure, I talk about myself with all possible psychological “cunning” and cheerfulness [Heiterkeit]—I do not want to present myself to people as a prophet, savage beast, or moral horror. In this sense, too, the book could be salutary: it will perhaps prevent people from confusing me with my opposite [Gegensatz]. (KSB 8: 462)4
In particular, as he explains in the Preface to Ecce Homo, he wishes to launch a preemptive strike against those who would be inclined to dismiss the author of The Antichrist as a “bogeyman” or “moral monster” (EH P2). Although he does not identify the potential critics whom he has in mind, his letter to Kö selitz provides the following explanation of the “audacity” on display in Ecce Homo:
Not only did I want to present myself before the entirely uncanny solitary act of revaluation, I would also like to test what risks I can take with the German ideas of freedom of speech. My suspicion is that the first book of the revaluation [i.e., The Antichrist] will be confiscated on the spot—legally and in all justice. (KSB 8: 462)5
The appearance of Ecce Homo, he thus hopes, will “make the question [of revaluation] so intensely serious, and such an object of curiosity” that the relevant authorities will be discouraged from censoring or confiscating The Antichrist (KSB 8: 462).6
In his correspondence from the autumn of 1888, Nietzsche reveals why he believes he must withhold The Antichrist from publication. In a letter to Paul Deussen on November 26, 1888, he writes,
My life is now reaching its culmination: a couple years more, and the earth will quake from a great lightning stroke. I swear to you that I have the power to alter the calculation of time. There is nothing in existence today that will not be toppled; I am more dynamite than human being. My “Revaluation of All Values,” with the main title The Antichrist, is finished. In the next two years, I have to accomplish having the work translated into seven languages, the first edition in each language circa one million copies.7
Later that year, in the draft letter to Brandes, Nietzsche confirms his understanding of how, and on whom, The Antichrist is supposed to produce its intended effect. Those readers who share in the “aristocratic” sensibilities that (supposedly) join Nietzsche and Brandes will understand that Christianity is now unworthy of their continued allegiance. The best among his contemporaries, including the military officers,8 will recoil instinctively from Christianity and seek the alternative guidance that he and his fellow “immoralists” will be quick to offer them.9 Similarly, he expects the Jews among his readers to be intrigued by, and perhaps grateful for, the opportunity to make their home in the post-Christian, philo-Semitic Europe he envisions on their behalf. Here, finally, we learn that his preferred imagery for this supposed contribution to the era of “great politics,” typically involving the disposition of artillery, dynamite, and other concussive materiel, is actually meant to suggest a relatively quiet explosion of light and truth. The noise and heat of actual detonations, he believed, would come later.
Inasmuch as he intended Ecce Homo as a safeguard against the confiscation of The Antichrist, Nietzsche sheds some clarifying light on the relative importance he attaches to these two books. Whereas the value of Ecce Homo is largely (though by no means exclusively) instrumental, that is, as a preemptive deflection of the threat of censorship, The Antichrist comprises the culmination of his philosophy, namely, in his achievement of what he immodestly calls the “revaluation of all values.” The Antichrist was to be sufficiently controversial, apparently, that he felt the need to rush Ecce Homo into print, as a hedge against the censorship that he believed to be fully warranted. Alas, Nietzsche’s clever plan was foiled by his breakdown and collapse in January 1889. The Antichrist appeared for the first time in 1895, and Ecce Homo was finally published in 1908.
As I have claimed elsewhere (1997: 215–38), Nietzsche clearly intended The Antichrist as a singular accomplishment, achievable only by him, and only in the historical period marked by his dawning recognition of the “death of God.” Owing to the recent convergence of morality and science—both now take their direction from a potent “will to truth”—Nietzsche believed that a disclosure of the truth of Christian morality would have an immediate and permanent impact on the future development of European history. In light of the unique historical conditions of his enterprise, he believed, a seemingly simple act of truth telling on his part would have the effect of a “hundredfold declaration of war,” as he puts it in a letter of October 18, 1888, to Franz Overbeck (KSB 8: 453).
To be sure, Nietzsche’s esteem for The Antichrist has not been uniformly shared by his readers. The book has received relatively little critical attention, especially in comparison to the scholarship devoted to his more influential writings (e.g., BT, Z, and GM). It is safe to say, in fact, that The Antichrist remains something of an outlier, an enigma perhaps, even to Nietzsche’s most sympathetic readers. Part of the problem here concerns the grandiose aims of the book itself: Nietzsche is certainly not the first critic of Christian morality to take aim at the warrant for its continued cultural authority. What unique insight or allegation does The Antichrist contribute to a growing body of secular and humanistic criticism? If Nietzsche meant for The Antichrist simply to herald the coming “day of decision,” on which the “revaluation of all values” will take place, then it might be seen to add little to an oeuvre that is already overstocked with promissory notes and prophetic pronouncements (Conway 1988: 178–86). If Nietzsche meant for The Antichrist to begin (or even complete) the proposed “revaluation of all values,” as he often suggests, it is difficult to see how this might be the case, especially now that a full century has passed since the time of his intended “declaration of war” (Conway 1988: 252–59).
Still, there is much in The Antichrist that merits philosophical scrutiny. Nietzsche offers a sophisticated account of how the valorization of pity allows the Christian priests to manipulate and mold their dependent clientele. He develops important and insightful observations on religions other than Christianity, including Judaism, Indian Buddhism, and Islam. Borrowing from Dostoevsky, he develops a fascinating psychological profile of “the Redeemer type,” of which he proposes Jesus as exemplary, and he defends this profile as the product of his superior understanding of the limits of Christological interpretation. He also provides welcome support for his controversial assertion that Paul—the original anti-Christian—falsified the life and death of Jesus for the purpose of gaining his revenge on the peoples and nations of the Roman Empire. Recapitulating the general narrative of the “slave revolt in morality,” he provides additional details and background context—including a brief “history of Israel”—in support of his interpretation of the triumph of Christian morality. Confirming his account of the convergence of science and religion in the aftermath of the “death of God,” he exposes the Christian priest as the enemy par excellence of science, probity, and truth. Finally, The Antichrist offers an important valedictory statement of Nietzsche’s understanding of his own philosophical project. Even if we reject his account of the unique historical position that authorizes the claims essayed in The Antichrist, a serious study of this book will provide us with a clearer sense of his envisioned contribution to the inception of a new, post-moral epoch in Western history.
The German title of the book—Der Antichrist—is ambiguous, and perhaps deliberately so. (For this reason, in fact, several of the contributors to this volume prefer alternative and/or multiple translations of the title.) Der Antichrist may designate either the particular individual who will fulfill the eschatological prophecies recorded in the Book of Revelation, or, less sensationally, an impassioned critic of Christian faith and/or practice. While Nietzsche clearly intended the latter meaning, scholars are divided on the question of whether he also meant for his confrontation with Christian morality to invoke the former meaning (Sommer 2013: 19–22). At the very least, or so it would seem, he imagined himself standing in a position of finality vis-à -vis Christianity. One way or the other, he believed, Christianity would not survive his assault on its moral and cultural authority (Conway 1988: 216–25).
This collection of original essays is intended both to reflect and contribute to the recent surge of philosophical interest in Nietzsche and The Antichrist. Themes treated in the proposed volume include the following: Nietzsche’s attempt to construct historically faithful psychological profiles of Jesus and Paul; Nietzsche’s “economic” critique of Christianity, as a religion that beggars the future in order to prop up the ideal of the “good man”; the moral standing of Nietzsche’s “immoralism”; Nietzsche’s understanding of the philosophical and political opportunities available to him and his fellow “free spirits” in the aftermath of the “death of God”; Nietzsche’s analysis and denunciation of the supposed virtue of pity; Nietzsche’s theory and diagnosis of European decadence; Nietzsche’s envisioned contribution to the era of “great politics”; the prospects for morality and religion in the post-modern, post-moral epoch; the future of European exceptionalism; the relative merits of Buddhism and Islam; Nietzsche’s case against the priests and the priestly class; and the convergence of science and morality as complementary expressions of the “will to truth.”
Notes
1 Translation by Whitlock in Montinari 2003: 109.
2 In his letter to Brandes on November 20, 1888, Nietzsche describes Ecce Homo as the “prelude” (Vorspiel) to The Antichrist (KSB 8: 482). See also Middleton 1969: 326–27.
3 For an account of Nietzsche’s realization that The Antichrist would comprise the whole of the Revaluation of All Values, see Montinari 2003: 117–18.
4 Translation by Middleton 1969: 318–20.
5 Translation by Middleton 1969: 318–20.
6 Translation by Middleton 1969: 318–20.
7 Translation by Whitlock in Montinari 2003: 109.
8 Nietzsche also refers to his anticipated influence on Prussian officers in BGE 251.
9 A notebook entry bears witness to similar delusions of geopolitical grandeur: “The princes of Europe should consider carefully whether they can do without our support. We immoralists—we are today the only power that needs no allies in order to conquer: thus we are by far the strongest of the strong” (WP 749).
Works cited
Conway, D. (1988), Nietzsche’s Dangerous Game: Philosophy in the Twilight of the Idols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Middleton, C. (1969), Selected Letters of Friedrich Nietzsche. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Montinari, M. (2003), Reading Nietzsche, G. Whitlock (trans.). Champaign-Urbana: University of Illinois Press.
Sommer, A. (2013), Kommentar zu Nietzsches Der Antichrist, Ecce Homo, Dionysus-Dithyramben, Nietzsche contra Wagner. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter.